Sinful Haven

by Brook Wilder

  I couldn’t let her go.

  Punching at the bag again, I tried to concentrate on something else. Hard to, of course, since Elisa’s scent was all I smelled. God, now I understood how Crankshaft, Chains, and Ironsides had fallen victim to their women. It wasn’t that damn hard, or we were weaker than we thought we were.

  A grin spread over my face. This was fucking crazy, me and Elisa. I hadn’t lied to her about the cap or about how I had noticed her for the first time after her graduation. I remember the party her parents had thrown for her and I’d gone, because, well, I practically lived at their house most of the time anyway.

  But when she had walked in, wearing that tight white dress, it had been like a sucker punch to my gut. She was beautiful and that was the moment I knew I was in deep shit.

  Thank God Will never knew or he would have killed me for thinking about his sister in that way. Us being deployed waylaid my nearly daily contact with Elisa, but she hadn’t been far from my thoughts. The cute letters she’d sent, the boxes of goodies that included both our favorites hadn’t gone unnoticed.

  And it had reminded me of who was waiting back home. Right before the accident, I had thought about telling Will, breaking the unspoken code between us when it came to his baby sister. One day, I had vowed, we were gonna cross paths and something was gonna happen.

  Will’s death had changed all that.

  Grabbing the bag, I pressed my forehead to it, drawing in a breath. God, I hoped Will was approving this from upstairs. We’d had one conversation right before his death about Elisa, one that was forever imprinted in my memory.

  “Dude, what I wouldn’t give for a cold beer right now.”

  I wiped the sweat off my forehead, cringing at the feel of the sand grating across my skin. Even under the cover of night, it was fucking hot in the desert and we’d been stationed in the sand for the last four hours, watching the northern road that led toward the town in case the rebels attempted to take it at night. Same assignment every night for the last week and I was getting sick and tired of looking through the high-powered binoculars.

  “Hey,” Will said after a while. “If I don’t make it out of here, can I count on you to do something for me?”

  I looked at my best friend, chuckled. “Dude, you think I’ll get out of here if you don’t?”

  He gave a shrug, a pensive look on his face. “I don’t know, man. I got this feeling I won’t ever set foot on American soil alive.”

  I sobered, his words haunting. “Listen, if you go, I go, alright? We are gonna get home and then you can finally man up and ask Ashley out. She loves a man in uniform.”

  Will chuckled then, shaking his head. “I’m serious. I need you to take care of Elisa.”

  Her name froze the blood in my veins. Shit. Will’s younger sister was no longer the skinny, all knees girl I had watched grown up. Now, man, she was hot. Even after two months out here in the desert, I could still feel her lips on mine.

  Thank God she was going to college and I was across the fucking country right now. “You can take care of her yourself,” I forced out.

  “But if I can’t,” he continued, his eyes staring out into the darkness. “Tell me you will keep her safe from the assholes and make sure she has a good life. She’ll need someone, Damian, and I want to make sure you will be there for her.”

  He sounded so fucking serious that I swallowed my joking retort. “Alright,” I said against my better judgement. “I’ll make sure she’s okay.”

  Will clapped me on the shoulder. “You’re a good man, Damian. I knew I could count on you.”

  I shook out of the memory, my heart hammering in my ears. I hadn’t followed through with my word. I had abandoned Elisa when she needed me most, unable to handle my own shit to help her through Will’s death.

  And now I was sleeping with her, dragging her into an uncertain and dangerous world.

  Will would be kicking my ass right about now if he was still alive.

  “There you are.”

  I turned, glowering at Voodoo as he strolled into the gym, a cigarette in his mouth. “What the hell do you want now?”

  “I need another favor.”

  I immediately started shaking my head. “Your favors are shit. I did what you wanted, and I am done.”

  Voodoo’s smile faded. “You are done when I say you’re done, Private Gibson. I own your ass right now. Don’t forget it.”

  I pushed away from the bag and grabbed the towel from the rack, wiping my face with it. “You gonna hold the same old shit over my head, Voodoo?”

  “Oh no, not this time,” he grinned, a small sliver of fear snaking down my spine at the sight. “I got something new this time and it has to do with your girlfriend. Sleeping with your dead best friend’s sister, are you?”

  Shit. This was exactly what I thought would happen. “That’s none of your fucking business. If you touch a hair on her head-”

  Voodoo held up his hand. “Yeah, yeah, I know the routine. Do the job and you don’t have to worry about it, alright? Don’t do the job and I will throw her into the lot with the rest of you when the CIA rounds you up. She will go down and you will have to spend the rest of your days knowing she’s in prison too. Seems like a decent girl. I would hate for that to happen.”

  I clenched my fists inside my gloves, wishing I could punch the shit out of him. Maybe throw him into one of our hovels and walk away, allowing him to starve to death.

  The problem was, he was CIA and the moment he disappeared, we would be hot on their radar either way.

  So, I was stuck. Good and stuck. “What do you want me to do?”

  “That’s more like it,” Voodoo stated, a gleam in his eye. “There’s a new commander who needs to be eliminated. Justin Polanco. I’m sure you’ve heard about him.”

  Yeah, I had. Justin Polanco was a former Azteca commander, moving through the ranks of the Pacifica cartel when the Aztecas collapsed. He was a dangerous man, known for his brutality and to have him dead and gone would be another huge chink in the Cartel armor, another one down. “What do you want?”

  “Quick and easy,” Voodoo said. “That shit with the other one, that was bad for business. I need this to be more discreet. You’re not the only one with bosses breathing down your neck. Losing an entire fucking village is what the Russians do, not us. Do this right, and we will be on the up and up again.”

  “Until you come back,” I finished for him. I wasn’t stupid. This was a vicious cycle I had gotten into, but there was no way out. They had us over a barrel.

  Voodoo grinned. “Maybe. You’re a good man, Private Gibson, and you deserve to be happy with that woman of yours.”

  “You’re blowing smoke up my ass,” I growled, stripping off my gloves. “I’ll do it tonight.”

  “See that you do, Private.” Voodoo said as he walked out of the gym.

  I stared at the empty door for a moment before turning around and slamming my fist into the bag, pain bursting in my knuckles. This was not what I wanted to happen, but what else was I supposed to do? Voodoo had threatened not only the club, but also Elisa, and I was responsible for her.

  “Shit,” I muttered, sliding a hand through my hair. I would have to tell Chains and get some shit together so that I could be in and out as quick as possible.

  And I wasn’t going to tell Elisa. If I did, she would want to come along and I couldn’t have that sort of distraction again or have her in the line of fire. If something happened to me, Chains and Widow Maker would make sure Elisa was taken care of, that I knew.

  It was better if she didn’t know about this at all.

  Chapter 14

  Elisa

  It went to voicemail again, and I fought the urge to throw my phone across the room. I had been trying for the last six hours to reach Damian after his nonchalant text he’d sent and so far, I hadn’t been able to.

  His text simply stated he would be busy at the club and didn’t know when he would be back home. I hadn’t worried at firs
t, knowing he had things to do, so I watched some TV, cleaned up after myself, and explored the large house. It was interesting to guess what Damian had done with the place and what was his mom’s touch.

  But now, I was worried. This wasn’t like him to not at least answer his phone one time or send a text.

  Blowing out a breath, I knew I couldn’t sit here any longer. I wasn’t being one of those crazed women who needed to know where her man was at all times. I was truly worried that Damian was doing something. Something he didn’t want me knowing about.

  It made me sick to my stomach.

  Throwing on some clothes, I walked through the house with my cell clenched in my hand, and threw open the front door, scaring the two bikers who stood.

  “Something wrong?” one of them said after recovering.

  “I need to go to the club,” I stated, lifting my chin. “And if you don’t take me, I will drive myself.”

  One looked at the other. “Machine Gun told us not to let you leave the house.”

  “Of course he did,” I said tightly, filing that away for another time. “But he doesn’t own me. I need to see Chains and you can either chase me down the road or you can drive me there yourself. Your choice.”

  “Alright,” one of them finally said. “I got Machine Gun’s keys.”

  “Thank you,” I answered. I didn’t want to fight with anyone but Machine Gun himself at the moment.

  After I ensured that he was alright.

  The ride to the club was short and I thanked the bikers for escorting me before waiting for Rex to show up. I could feel it in my bones that something was off, that Damian wouldn’t put me through this worry unless he was doing something he didn’t want me to know about.

  That was a problem for me. I’d thought we had gotten past the whole having secrets.

  “Elisa.”

  I looked up to see Rex standing there, a curious look on his face. “Hey, um, I need to talk to you.”

  “Sure,” he said slowly, motioning me back. I followed him to an office, surprisingly clean given his line of work. “Have a seat. You want some coffee?”

  I lowered myself into the chair. “I want to know where Machine Gun is.” I didn’t know what the rules were about using their real first names, though I hated how his nickname tasted bitter on my tongue. He was Damian to me.

  Always had been, always would be.

  His eyes widened just a fraction of a second and I knew whatever he was going to tell me, I wasn’t going to like it. “I’m… hell Elisa, he asked me not to tell you.”

  I arched a brow. “He asked?”

  Rex had the grace to look embarrassed, nodding. “He didn’t want you to worry about him.”

  “And not being able to reach him for six hours doesn’t worry me?” I said, my voice rising a notch.

  “You can’t get him?” Rex asked suddenly, his brow furrowed.

  All the fight left me. “No,” I answered. “I can’t get him, and I’m worried something happened to him.” It was my worst fear, my thoughts being thrust back to the moment they had told us about my brother’s death. I couldn’t go through that with Damian, not when I had just found him again. “Please tell me you’ve talked to him recently.”

  Rex swore and reached for his cell, firing off a flurry of text messages. “I’m checking if anyone else has heard from him. I just assumed, hell, I’m gonna kill him for this.”

  “Where is he?” I pressed on, my heart in my throat.

  Rex slumped in the chair. “He’s on a mission, to Mexico. It’s a one-man job.”

  “One-man job,” I said slowly, wanting to vomit. “You sent him in there alone?”

  “Elisa,” Rex stated, blowing out a breath. “Machine Gun has been doing this sort of shit for years. You have to understand he’s fully capable of taking care of himself.”

  I didn’t care. It wasn’t his heart out there, somewhere in the midst of enemy territory. Alone.

  “I know this is hard,” Rex continued, a sympathetic look on his face. “But Machine Gun is one of my best guys. He knows how to handle himself.”

  “That still doesn’t make it right,” I said quietly, pushing myself out of the chair. I didn’t know what to do, how to handle this. My heart was broken that he hadn’t trusted me enough to tell me about the mission, to give me a chance to at least wish him luck and kiss him one last time.

  Rex stood as well, grasping my arm lightly as I turned to go. “Hey, Damian cares about you a lot and it’s much more than you just being his best friend’s sister. We are idiots when it comes to feelings and all that shit, so don’t be too harsh with him, alright? He just wants to keep you safe.”

  Despite my anger and hurt, I nodded, knowing what he was saying was true. While it wasn’t going to excuse what he had done, I knew he didn’t want to make things difficult between us.

  Looking up at the president, I drew in a breath. “I just wish he would have trusted me.”

  Rex let me go. “Yeah, we are stubborn like that. If I hear anything, I will let you know.”

  His words didn’t make me feel any better. I walked out into the main room, relieved to see Sabrina amongst the people milling around.

  “Wow,” Sabrina said as she approached me. “Someone pissed you off.”

  “Damian,” I said with a heavy sigh.

  She tsked and drew me over to the bar, handing me a beer. “Here.”

  I took a long drawl, allowing the cool liquid to slide down my throat. “Why are men so pigheaded?”

  “Good question,” she laughed, pulling out a beer for herself as well. “Trust me. I have been there and whatever he did, just chalk it up to the club. They don’t think when it comes to club business.” She then eyed my attire. “And clearly he hasn’t thought about your comfort either. We have some clothes stashed here. Let’s go raid the closet for something that fits you better.”

  Carrying our beers down the hall, she led me to a room with a bunch of racks, most of them filled with vests. “This is where the prospects come to get their vests,” she explained, pulling open a door. “But we never know when we are going to get strays, so the girls stocked this closet a few months ago. I took some of the clothes when I was first brought here.”

  “Thanks,” I answered as I found a pair of jeans in my size and a grey top. Setting them aside, I rooted around in the bottom until I found a pair of slip on sneakers, feeling much better about myself. “Um, you wouldn’t happen to have any extra undies, would you?”

  Sabrina laughed, motioning to a drawer in the back. “Help yourself. I’ll step out and keep watch while you change.”

  As soon as she closed the door, I shucked Damian’s clothing, not even mourning the loss of how they had made me feel only hours before. I couldn’t wait until he returned so we could talk. If he couldn’t trust me to tell me where he was going, then I didn’t know how well this was going to work out between us.

  Once I was dressed, I drained my beer, feeling marginally better, at least. I felt more like myself in these clothes and not a bum having to scrounge around to find her own way.

  I wanted to go back to my life, but how was that going to work with Damian in it? Did he even want to be part of my life?

  Clearly not. He didn’t even want me to continue my own work and he sure as hell wasn’t involving me in his.

  Walking to the door, I opened it for Sabrina, who was waiting patiently. “Do you have any more beer?”

  She laughed, linking arms with me. “Yeah, I figured you ask that. Come on.”

  Chapter 15

  Damian

  Near Ciudad Juarez, Mexico

  I loaded the duffel bag on my back as I traipsed through the desert, the heat from the sun threatening to cook me from the inside. It wasn’t my ideal way to travel, but the gridlock of all the vehicles of roughly one million people attempting to enter the city had forced me to abandon the bike that Voodoo had conveniently dropped in with me hours before.

  I wasn’t going to lie. I hated
the fucker. Even with his smiles and joking ways, he was forcing me to do things I really didn’t want to do.

  Especially not now that Elisa had fallen back into my life.

  But I knew his threats were real and I couldn’t take the chance of her being caught up in the same shit the Jesters were in.

  Passing by abandoned houses that had been vacated during the drug violence of the early nineties, I finally located the spot on the map I had scoped out earlier, a good vantage point from where Polanco would be in an hour. This time it wasn’t in the middle of a diner.

  This time it was at an intersection he was known to frequent looking for prostitutes. Why a high-ranking member of the cartel felt the need to go looking for himself was beyond me, but I was glad that he did.