The stool scraped the floor next to him. Crash took a sip of his beer and looked at the man who sat down. Shit, he should have known Tuck had put a watchdog on his ass to make sure he didn’t go off the rails. One thing about his President, the fucker knew his boys. Taking another drink, he put down the bottle.
“Why aren’t you home with your family, Jinx?”
“I could ask you the same thing, brother. Heard the two of you gave quite a show for the boys a couple of hours ago. Didn’t expect to see you down here tonight. Must be losing your mojo, man, if she kicked you out of bed that quick.”
“Fuck you, man, my mojo is just fine,” Crash laughed. “Braya is sleeping like a well-fucked woman. Just got shit on my mind.” Crash took another drink of the beer he didn’t want before he said, “I take it Tuck is acting like a mother hen again, assigning you to watch my ass so I don’t go off rogue and gun down Stewart?”
“Got it in one. Consider me your permanent babysitter until all this shit blows over. For the record, take more time with your woman, they like it, and it will keep me from having to drag my ass over here,” Jinx said as he held up a finger for Blade to bring him a beer.
Crash leaned back, stretching his back.
“I could just shoot you, save us both the trouble.”
Blade handed Jinx his beer and walked away. Jinx tilted it Crash’s way.
“You could, but Joey would kick your ass. My Ol’ Lady is fond of the holes I already have in my body, but she doesn’t appreciate it when I come back with more unless there’s jewelry attached, and bullets don’t count as far as she is concerned. She’s particular that way, what can I say?”
“Yeah, I can see that.”
He and Jinx drank in silence for a while. This was them. He knew damn well Jinx was just waiting for him to talk out what was bothering him. The man would wait him out until Crash spilled it all. They had been friends for more years than he could count. Served together, rode together and he was one person Crash considered more than just a brother. He was a friend and knew him well.
“Dude, this shit isn’t adding up in my head.” he said, finally giving up the silence.
“You got that feeling too? Doesn’t matter, I have your back, ust like you've always had mine. You ride, I ride beside you. If you decide to go after Duncan, I’m there man, guarding your six, regardless of what Tuck says or wants. I told him as much when he assigned me to your ass. Just so you know, he has you too, the whole club does.”
Crash appreciated the words, fuck he knew them; the RBMC stuck together. They were more like a family. Shaking his head at the thought for the first time, Crash realized that he had been laying those roots all along even if he hadn’t realized. Shit.
Going for broke, he said, “I still feel like I’m being played.”
“By the chick? Dude I’ve been watching her, and she looks at your ugly ass like you hung all the stars in the sky just for her. No way anyone is that good of an actress; you’re kind of an ass. That kind of devotion comes from one thing only, and it isn’t an act.”
Crash raised an eyebrow and smiled, “I’m just special that way. But no, not Braya, that shit is solid. It’s all the other shit bothering me.”
“Well, brother, I don’t have to tell you, but it’s always best to go with your gut. Bad shit happens when you ignore those feelings.”
Crash turned and looked at the other man. “How can I just walk away from this, Jinx? The fucker ordered my sister’s abduction and murder. He had his own daughter tortured and raped!”
“Did he?” Jinx questioned, pissing Crash off.
“Listen,” Jinx said, holding up his hands, “I don’t doubt the seedy fucker had something to do with all of it. Crash, you already said someone is playing with you, has been since the fucking start. Kayla, the boys in blue, and Talon played you and your girl like fucking puppets. They knew, orchestrated, and anticipated every move you would make. Even this one. The question is, why? Axel told me Braya compared this whole thing to psychological warfare, man. I think your chick hit it right on the button, and to be honest, that shit scares the fuck out of me.”
Yeah, Crash thought, that shit was fucking with his head too, but maybe that was the point.
“How much do you think this is connected to Perez?”
Jinx ran his hand over his face, then crossed his arms over his chest before answering.
“All of it. I don’t doubt Kayla thought she was protecting her sister, man. The woman underneath it all is good to the core. She helped my kid and woman, and for that, I will always be grateful. But come on, shit like this doesn’t happen. Wiretap recordings that you, that we, couldn’t find suddenly end up in your woman’s hands? Then all the shit after? Pieces never fall in place like that... ever.”
“Think about it. One event after the other, each member getting thrown off-kilter but also making them vulnerable. Crank and Cathy? Tuck’s ordeal, taken but not killed by the vultures. Talon accused of rape, only to have the case thrown out. Creed and Tessa having a price put on their heads, only to have it so generously removed. Brass, Jada, and Maddie? My shit alone, dude, nothing about it makes sense. We are fucking trained professionals; it’s our job to anticipate our target’s next move. None of this shit should have happened, but each and every situation has involved extreme emotion.”
“One thing does. Whoever it is knows us well. Fuck, we both know I’m the most unemotional mother fucker in the group, no ties besides the patch on my back, no family, no kids.”
“You could have said that a while ago dude, but that description no longer applies. Your tie is Braya and your loyalty, man. What better way to play you?”
Crash hated to admit it, but it was the fucking truth. He would kill anyone who dared lay a finger on Braya. She was his in every sense of the word now, and Crash protected what was his. But there was no way anyone could have predicted that shit.
“There’s no way Kayla and Talon are working with Perez. Kayla used what she knew to get what she wanted, not denying that shit for one minute. But she isn’t a psychic, man. She played all her cards, and they fell into place.”
“Never said they were. I think for every move made, a counter has been done by either Cinny or Talon. I also think the Perez boys are getting sick of the old man and want him out, so they put their hands into the ring. Think about our contract, hell our contacts, each one coming up shady after all these years of business as usual.”
“Fuck, man, I don’t doubt you, but I can’t let this go.”
A file folder landed on the bar top.
“I don’t think you have a choice man, Duncan Stewart was found dead in his office an hour ago,” Tuck said. “Reports suggest a man at least six and a half feet in height, distinctive scar on the side of his face, wearing a leather jacket and dark clothing was seen leaving the premises before PD arrived at the scene. Took off on a motorcycle. How is that for a nice clean setup? Already fielded two calls from the boys in blue and one from our contacts, asking about your whereabouts.”
A part of him wanted to rejoice in the fact Duncan Stewart was dead. Another part was pissed because he had wanted that piece of shit to die at his hands, but it was too late for that shit now. Another piece of the puzzle fell on the floor with all the others. Fuck, what weren’t they getting about all of this?
Turning, he looked at Tuck and asked, “The bounty?”
Tuck was a matter of fact, “Removed two hours ago.”
“So, they want me isolated. The question is why?” Crash asked no one in particular.
Tuck sat down. “I don’t think so. I think Perez is cleaning up loose ends. It wouldn’t be the first time he used a club to achieve that shit. The real question is which one? The Vultures are gone, dismantled and dismembered for lack of a better word. The assailant looking similar to you? That’s the first thing I actually think is an honest coincidence.”
Crash sat there, dumbfounded. He didn’t have another move to make, and he couldn’t get the reven
ge he wanted, but at least the price on Braya’s head was removed.
“So, it’s done?” Crash stated. None of this shit helped the shit in his head. He was relieved to know Braya wasn’t a target, but all of it seemed so staged, and the purpose of the set up eluded him.
“Fuck, brother, your guess is as good as mine. Every brother has paid a hefty price in this battle. That being said, I think the end game is coming. All we can do is sit back and wait for it to happen.”
“Like fuck,” Crash said. “We’re the RBMC. We make shit happen, we don’t wait for it.”
Tuck stood up. “Damn straight, brother. I think it’s time we changed this shit up, and instead of defense, waiting for the whatever shit is going to happen next, we need to attack back, harder and faster than that little fucker ever thought we could.”
Crash didn’t voice his thought. Which little fucker? Perez, that was a given, he needed to be taken down, but there was another little fucker playing with them. One who had ties so tight to the RBMC, it ran in their blood. One who could cause more damage than any club or cartel ever thought to—Talon. Looks like it was time to find out if blood was thicker than water.
Epilogue
Crash sat on his bike, looking at the little Cape Cod style house he and Braya moved into just last week, shaking his head. Damn, never once had he thought he would have this—roots and more. Fuck, he even had a damn white picket fence. Braya had seen the place and fell in love. Him, not so much, but it was better than his room at the clubhouse, and hell, whatever made Braya happy, made him happy.
That damn fence gave his brothers ammunition for days, and they used it, but he didn’t give a shit, and for once, he hadn’t beaten any of their asses for messing with him. He considered that growth. didn’t mean he hadn’t told Carri that Link was smoking again or Katie that Tuck had been drinking beer and eating burgers when he was supposed to be watching what he ate because of cholesterol or some shit. Pay back was a bitch.
There was just something about pulling into this fucking driveway that made him smile like a lunatic. He knew it wasn’t the driveway or hell, even the house or the fence. It was that he was coming home to his woman who was always warm, willing, and waiting. Putting his hand on his chest, the slight sting of his new ink made him smile wider. This was going to be fun.
Shit still wasn’t right with the club, but this part of his life was almost fucking perfect. At one time, he just wanted someone waiting for him. Now, he knew that was just bullshit. It was far more important to have someone he loved with his whole heart and loved him back waiting. It actually meant something more than just a quick fuck or a warm body.
Thinking about that, he thought about the disaster that would have happened if he and Jewell had actually gotten married. He was thankful he dodged that bullet. Life was so much better now. He had even seen her a couple of weeks back, and things hadn’t been, well, anything. She nodded at him, he did the same in return, and that was it. No angst, no anger, just nothing and it had felt good. Jewell, Callie, and Rave had even spoken to Braya for a while, and it was cool. He finally felt like he could close the door on that part of his life. He still mourned his sister, he always would, but knowing everyone who had a hand in her death had paid or would be paying soon gave him some much needed solace.
The club shit was calm right now. It seemed Perez switched gears, deciding to go after the BRMC full throttle. The RBMC was trying to help them out, but Perez was becoming unpredictable. Mickey Perez had reached out once, telling Tuck to back the fuck off. No one had heard a thing from Cinny, and Talon hadn’t reached out at all.
Tuck had finally filled in the rest of the Club on what was going on with Talon. To say Link and Whiskey didn’t take it well was an understatement. They refused to believe their own flesh and blood would go against them or anyone in the club. But all the lines were adding up to Talon doing just that. Crash knew the man's time of reckoning was coming soon, he could feel it in his bones. It was almost like a fucking live wire coursing through his body, telling him shit was about to hit the fan.
The boys in blue and Kayla, that was a different story altogether. None of them had heard shit from those guys for a while. Sadie, Kayla’s dog, was sent back to Cathy with a fucking note that said, ‘Please give her to someone who needs her.’ That was it.
Braya had been pissed, hell, he had been too as well as Cathy, but that wasn’t his problem anymore. Cathy ended up giving Sadie to Hunter, Jinx’s kid, who was still dealing with shit his mother had put him through. So, it was all good as far as he was concerned.
Crash had spent too many years trying to protect or save the woman, only for her to turn that shit on his ass. He had cut ties completely. If and when Braya decided to contact her sister again, he would support her, but it wasn’t looking like that time would come anytime soon. He knew Braya had checked up on her; old habits die hard. Hell, he knew all about that. Braya found one message in the chat room they used to use to leave messages for each other, but all it said was, ‘I’m sorry.’ Kayla’s profile had also been deleted.
Tuck was keeping an eye on Kayla and the boys in blue, but even he found things too quiet. One of the meetings he had today was about just that. The boys had gone deep cover and took Kayla with them. There were indications the operation with Perez was heating up. The bitch of it was, Crash knew that man would not be taken down by law enforcement. They were wasting their fucking time, regardless of how good their intentions were.
Braya stepping out onto the porch, smiling, giving him a tentative wave. Damn, he loved that woman. Crash got off his bike, no longer willing to think about anything other than her. When he got up to her on the porch, just like that first day, he herded her into the house, using his body to guide her. Braya started laughing and allowed it. Once they cleared the door, he slammed it shut with his foo, and turned Braya, pushing her up against the door.
“I’m going to fuck you so hard, princess, the grooves of the door will be tattooed on your ass, right along with my mark.”
Braya looked at him, her eyes dilated, cheeks pink, and licked her lips, setting him off even more. Taking her lips, Crash devoured her mouth, making a promise with his body instead of words. Lifting her leg over his hip, he ground himself into her core, showing her just how turned on he was, how much he needed her. Braya didn’t disappoint, moaning his name and begging for more. Lifting her other leg, he bent his legs slightly to balance her on his thighs, freeing his hands. It only took seconds before he had her shirt off and over her head.
His gaze dropped to her tits, and fuck him, she wasn’t wearing a bra, much to his delight. Cupping them both, he took his time, paying homage to the beauties—licking, biting sucking, squeezing, pinching—he did it all until she was writhing against him, thrusting her pussy into his dick, her incoherent murmurs driving him crazy. He loved Braya all the time, but Braya out of control with lust for him was a sight to behold. Her moans and grip on his head only made him harder.
Reluctantly removing one hand, he released the button on his jeans, quickly undoing his pants, pushing them down, just enough to free his cock. Thanking the good lord above or anyone else in the universe, she had decided to wear loose shorts today. Crash didn’t bother with taking them off, only moving aside the gusset of her shorts and panties, and with one smooth thrust, he was buried in her, her heat engulfing him, making his knees weak.
“Oh my god Ryker again!” Braya screamed out.
If her words hadn’t clued him in his abrupt entry was wanted and needed, the wetness coating his cock clued him in big time. She wanted this as much as he did. Slamming into her over and over again, Braya met him thrust for thrust, her hands sliding into his hair grabbing handfuls, her nails digging into his skull, pulling him to meet her lips in a hungry, out of control kiss. This was them, balls to the wall, wild and crazy. It was as if neither of them could ever get enough. He had been a damn fool thinking otherwise, that random pussy would be good enough. Every time he fucked Braya, it onl
y got better.
When her cunt tightened on him, he started to thrust harder, feeling the cum bubbling in his balls. He wasn’t going to last much longer, but he was determined that she would go first. Bringing his hand down between them, Crash rubbed her clit. The more he rubbed, the faster she moved with him, pumping her hips until she stilled, then screamed out his name.
The walls of her pussy squeezed him, over and over again until they clamped down on him like a vice, forcing his own orgasm to explode. Crash grunted through his orgasm, hard breaths coming quick and fast. Shit, the things this woman did to him, he came so hard, his balls ached. Pulling back slightly, he looked at her slitted eyes. This was his favorite look on her face, the one of a woman who had been completely satisfied by her man. Crash kissed her and she livened up a little.
“Damn, baby, did you miss me today?” Braya joked, still breathing hard. Crash was still catching his breath but kissed her.
“Maybe just a little bit.”
“Well, anytime you want to greet me like that in the future, I’m all for it.”
Crash kissed her forehead once more, not sure if he could actually move, but he had to laugh at Braya’s next statement.
“But, babe, you’re going to have to move both our asses to the bedroom because I’m pretty sure you did exactly as promised and tattooed the slats of the door on my ass, plus blew my mind. I don’t think I can move,” Braya groaned.
Shit, Crash was barely standing himself, if his knee’s hadn’t been locked he would be on his ass. Deciding the hell with it, he let them both go to the floor, maneuvering his body until he was sitting next to her before pulling her into his lap. He didn’t even give a shit he was still dressed with his dick hanging out.
Crash: Ruthless Bastards (RBMC Book 9) Page 17