Steel Cobras MC Complete Box Set: Books 1-6

by Evie Monroe

  The prospects for our phone call were looking bleaker by the moment. “Yeah? So when you were on that side . . .what were your dealings with him?”

  “Didn’t have much interaction with him at all. You know, never around much but when he was around he was too important to associate with any of us new or potential Fury. Just heard from everyone he was a bad bitch, and to stay away. You didn’t want to piss in his Cheerios, that’s for sure.”

  I scrubbed a hand over my face. “Sounds great.”

  “Yeah. Like there was this one time. He came in, all quiet, like it was just another day. Then he grabbed a pool cue and fucked up another Fury. I mean, left him bleeding on the fucking floor in pieces. Punctured his lung, broke nearly all his ribs, just went off on him for like twenty minutes straight, and no one dared stop him. Guy nearly died.” He shook his head and exhaled. “Come to find out Slade’s girl was fucking around with him, and he’d done worse to her, at home. Practically killed her.”

  Reasonable fucker. I sucked in a breath. Yeah. This little talk was not going to go over well. But I still had to try. I’d promised Hart and Zain I would give them the chance, and I still wasn’t convinced we needed to launch into an all-out war.

  I checked my phone and slipped off the stool. Shit, I was going to be a lot later than I told Grace. I’d said only an hour, but I’d spent more than an hour shooting the shit with Zain.

  She knew me. She knew I was never on time for anything.

  Though I had to be out of my mind. I had her waiting at home for me. Sexy, fucking beautiful, everything I could possibly want. In my bed. I didn’t know how I managed to stay away.

  “Going to the clubhouse now,” I told Zain, pulling out my wallet and dropping a couple twenties on the bar. “Thought I’d see what was going on and make the call from there. You coming?”

  He grabbed his helmet. “Yeah.”

  The two of us went outside, got on our bikes, and set out toward the pier. When we got to the warehouse, I saw Hart’s bike there, as well as a few bikes of some of the other guys. As I climbed off my bike, there was a stiff wind coming off the ocean, and what looked like a storm blowing in. Just as we were opening the door to the clubhouse, lightning lit up the sky.

  The clubhouse was, as usual, hazy with cigarette smoke. Led Zeppelin wafted from the speakers, almost drowning out the sound of pool balls clacking together.

  “Hey!” Hart called to me, looking up from his game of pool as I fist-bumped the other guys inside. I’d been here only a few days before, but it felt like I’d been gone forever. Before Grace, I used to come to the clubhouse every day. This place was probably more my home than the mansion ever was.

  Hart pointed a finger toward the kitchen. I peeked into the small room and noted the package he’d mentioned on the phone, which he’d left on the counter for me. It was about the size of a helmet and wrapped in craft paper. Probably some parts I’d ordered for the cars. I had other business to deal with first and lit up a cigarette.

  We had a landline attached to a pole in the kitchen area and I headed for it to make my call. Zain and Hart came up close, wanting to hear the conversation. Hart gave me a piece of paper, with the number written on it. I dialed, dragging on my smoke as I waited for someone to pick up.

  On the fourth ring, when I thought it was going to voicemail, someone said, “Talk to me.”

  I squeezed my opposite ear closed so I wouldn’t hear Robert Plant’s screeching “Whole Lotta Love.” I shot Zain a look and he turned down the music. I traded a glance with Hart as I said, “Hey. This Slade?”

  “Yep. Who am I talking to?” His voice was smooth. Deep. In control.

  “Cullen.”

  “Cullen.” He said it like one would say Herpes. “I’ve heard about you. Bastard who killed Blaze and four of my men. Am I right?”

  “You got your information wrong, Slade,” I said, straddling a stool in front of a 70’s orange laminate kitchen counter and pulling an ashtray over. “Blaze wasn’t playing by the rules. Kidnapping an innocent girl? We couldn’t let that slide. You gotta know that.”

  He snorted. “I’ll give you that. He didn’t get much in the brains department, ol’ Blaze. I was just listening to a little bit of The Fritz on the radio. Your daddy sure could play, man. I’m a guitar man myself. You got any of that talent?”

  “No,” I muttered. My father had talent, but I’d known from a young age I wanted to be nothing like Brent McKnight. Never even picked up a guitar. “Wasn’t that lucky.”

  “Ah, too bad. So what is the leader of the goddamn Steel Cobras doing, calling me on this fine night?” he said. It sounded like he was chewing on something.

  Cocky asshole. I could just see him, sitting on his fucking throne.

  I took another drag, choosing my words carefully, thinking of all the intel Zain had given me on this crazy bitch. “I think now’s a good time for the two of our clubs to see if we can’t find some common ground. There’s plenty of Aveline Bay for all of us, and I want you and I to hash it out. See what we can do.”

  There was silence. Then, he laughed, long and hard. “You mean, peace and harmony, sixties hippie shit?”

  “Yeah.”

  He said, smoothly, “I like the way you think, man. You know. We lost some men last month with the business that went on, including Blaze. I was just telling the guys it was needless shit. It didn’t have to happen.”

  He sounded reasonable. I felt good about this. “Yeah, man. So name the time and place. I’ll be there.”

  Suddenly, thunder rumbled overhead, the walls of the warehouse shaking. “Just us two?”

  “Yeah. No need to involve anyone else. Let’s just sit down and have a few beers.”

  “All right. Then let’s do Rocky’s.” Rocky’s was a bar downtown, on neutral turf. “Say, tomorrow at eight?”

  “Sounds good.”

  “I’ll be there, Cullen my man. We lost five men, so I can’t promise you this’ll fix things. But, I can promise you the Fury ain’t going anywhere.”

  “Understood.” I cut the call and looked at the guys. They all had surprised looks on their faces, like they’d expected the call would erupt in a shouting match. I was pretty surprised myself. Hadn’t thought it’d go that smoothly. I thought I’d get a lot more shit than I had. Especially since we’d killed five of their guys.

  “We got a meeting,” I said, stubbing out the end of the cigarette. “Tomorrow at eight. Rocky’s.”

  Zain punched his palm. “Shit. I didn’t think he’d bite, truly. Can I go with?”

  I snorted at him. Of all the Cobras, they hated Zain most of all, since he was once almost one of them. “I’m going alone.”

  “You think that’s smart?” Hart asked, running a hand through his ruddy hair.

  “It’s fine. That’s what we agreed on. I ain’t worried.”

  Hart let out a short laugh. “Since when do the Fury ever play by the rules? Honor doesn’t mean nothing to them.”

  I threw up my hands. He was right. But just because it didn’t mean anything to them, it didn’t mean I was just going to let the Cobras code go. “I’m not going to worry about that until there’s something to worry about. Right now, we’re just two guys, going out for beers. That’s it.”

  Hart shot me a doubtful look and crossed his thick, tattooed arms. Fine. I’d let him and the others wait in a parking lot nearby, if it’d make them feel better.

  Then I looked at my phone. Seven o’clock. Hell, I’d now been gone for over four hours. I wasn’t scared of this Slade asshole who’d nearly impaled a guy on a pool cue because I’d seen what a livid Grace could do, and it wasn’t pretty.

  Shit shit shit. I’d go pick her up a really nice dinner. Then I’d take her into bed and by the end of the night she’d have screamed my name so much that she’d have forgotten I was late. “I got to go, guys,” I announced to them, pocketing my phone. “I got plans.”

  I grabbed my helmet and made toward the door, for the first time hearing
what sounded like armies marching across the corrugated metal roof. Fuck, the rain was coming down. Out the window, all I could see was a wall of gray.

  “Wow, man,” Hart breathed, peering out the window. “Look at it coming down. Never seen it rain this hard. You going out in that?”

  I couldn’t remember the last time it’d rained. The roads would be slick as hell, not to mention I probably wouldn’t be able to see shit. Yeah. I’d wait for the rain to slow. Grace would understand. She’d bitch, but eventually, she’d understand.

  Then I looked over on the counter and saw the package.

  Setting down my helmet, I walked toward the counter and picked it up. Tossed it in my hands. It was surprisingly heavy. Shook it a little. Something inside shifted.

  Our parts didn’t come in like this. They were clearly marked by the vendor. That set off alarm bells in my head. But like I said, I wasn’t going to worry until there was something to worry about.

  I studied the name on it. The name and mailing address had been hand-written in block lettering. No return address. No shipping information. So it hadn’t come from the post, or UPS, or FedEx. “Who dropped this off?” I asked Hart.

  He shrugged. “It was at the door when I got here.”

  Wiping at my eye, I went to get a knife to rip it open when I suddenly heard something. Beeping. Like a timer. Beep. Beep. Beep.

  Shit.

  I brought the package to my ear.

  The rhythmic sound was definitely coming from inside.

  And I doubted someone had sent me a timer as a gift.

  “Fuck,” I breathed, sliding the package onto the table and dropping the knife. I backed toward the door. “Everyone out! It’s a fucking bomb!”

  They all looked up at once, and then they began to stampede toward the door. I threw it open, into a wall of rain, just as another jagged slice of lightning lit up the sky and thunder began to rumble.

  A bomb. A fucking bomb. No wonder that asshole Slade was so agreeable. And I was playing right into his hands.

  I motioned for them all to hurry, shouting at them to get their asses moving, when I looked through the steady downpour to the parking lot and saw a taxi slowing to a stop at the end of the docks.

  Rain soaked my face, matting my hair against my eyes as I stood in the open door and watched Grace slip out of the taxi, holding Ella in one arm, a pink jacket tenting her head.

  Grace. Fuck. What the fuck was she doing here?

  She knew not to come to church. I’d told her to stay away.

  But since when did Grace ever do a fucking thing I told her to?

  My chest squeezed. I gritted my teeth as she bumped the door closed with her hip and started to run my way.

  I waved at her, but she had the jacket over her face, shielding me from her view. I shouted as loud as I could, but the rain raged around us, drowning out my voice.

  She kept coming.

  Fear knotted in my chest. Too close. This was bad.

  I let go of the door and broke into a run, waving both arms at her and shouting my fucking head off.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Grace

  We didn’t get much rain in Aveline Bay.

  But as I stepped out to the cab and placed Ella in the back seat, I could smell it coming, feel it in the wind. I looked up and saw dark, menacing clouds approaching from the ocean, just as thunder started to rumble in the distance.

  Barry was out in front, holding a stack of mail in her hands. “Looks like we’re going to get a whopper!” she called to me, pointing to the sky. “Stay dry and safe!”

  I waved to her. “I will! Thanks!”

  I slid into the car and said to the driver, a middle-aged bald man with dark skin, “Thanks for getting here so quickly,” and closed the door behind me.

  “Hey, sweetie,” he said to me, smiling at Ella. “Looks like we’re about to get a little rain. Let’s see if we can’t get you where you want to go before it starts to pour.”

  “That would be great.” I looked over at Ella as the driver pulled out of Cullen’s long drive, thinking a walk by the beach probably wasn’t the smartest idea ever, considering. I’d written the address of the clubhouse on my palm. “Can you take me to 121 Ocean Avenue instead?”

  He nodded, raising an eyebrow. “That’s on the pier. Bunch of warehouses there. Rough area. What you and your sweet baby want with going all the way out there?”

  I smiled. “Just meeting someone.”

  He shrugged and didn’t ask any more questions. Even put on a CD with songs like “Wheels on the Bus” and “Where is Thumbkin?” much to Ella’s glee and she sat on my lap and sang along. He was one of those cab drivers who rambled on, so by the time we got downtown, I’d found out he had four grandchildren of his own and had lived in the Bay all his life, just like me. He asked me all about Ella. Ella, fed and rested, wrapped her chubby arms around me and grinned happily.

  We drove past downtown Aveline Bay, past the homeless shelter, past the Best Western, and then he hung a left and steered us down the long pier, past dozens of vast buildings surrounded by shipping containers and machinery. And yes, a few tough-looking guys, milling about, but that didn’t faze me. Cullen was the king of tough guys. Around him, I wouldn’t have to worry.

  I held Ella up so she could look out the window, just as the first raindrops pinged against the glass, thinking about the one time Cullen and I had gone out to The Wall, the Cobras’ favorite watering hole. I’d met some of the Cobras for the first time; Hart and Nix and Drake . . . each one bigger and tougher and hotter than the next. But none could hold a candle to Cullen, and they all respected Cullen something fierce.

  It was easy to see why they’d choose him to be their president.

  That night, I’d had a little too much to drink and grabbed a shot of tequila off the bar, downing it, when a huge tough guy, with arms the size of tree trunks, spun on the bar. “Hey, that was my drink, bitch!”

  I’d started to apologize when Cullen nudged me behind him and confrontationally pushed his chest out. “Who the fuck are you calling a bitch, motherfucker?”

  Cullen didn’t give a shit that the guy had five inches on him. He shoved him square in the chest, and the man stumbled back against his stool, stunned.

  Cullen got right in his face. “Apologize to her. It’s a fucking honor to buy her a drink, asshole. Now thank her for letting you,” he growled, pulling him up by the shirt and forcing him to look at me.

  The guy blinked, confused. He looked more at the ground than at me, face reddening. “Hey, um, thanks for letting me buy you a drink . . .”

  “See? That wasn’t so hard.” Cullen slammed a bill onto the counter. “But that one was actually on me.”

  Then he patted the guy’s cheek, took me by the elbow, and led me out of the bar. I’d only gone to the bar with him once, but from the way the men were grinning at him and the women’s tongues were wagging as their eyes followed him out of the place, this was a regular occurrence.

  I’d never been so proud to be with him then at that moment. Or turned on. The sex we’d had that night? Fan-fucking-tastic.

  I blinked out of the memory when the sky opened, like God just dumped a massive bucket of water over all of Aveline Bay.

  “Wow.” The driver slowed and turned his windshield wipers way up. “Sorry, dear. Looks like you’re going to be getting a little wet.”

  His headlights cut through the rain, but steam was rising from the overheated streets, cutting visibility way down. I could barely see a thing. He inched along as lightning lit up the sky around us. “That’s okay. Geez. It’s really coming down, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, boy.” He tightened his hands on the steering wheel. “Tell you what. We get to your address and you stay in here as long as you like. I won’t leave the meter running.”

  I smiled gratefully at him. “Thank you. But your time is just as valuable as mine. I’m sure you have other places to be. And I’ll only be a few minutes. I’ll want you to stay
, anyway, because I think I’ll need a ride back.”

  I looked at what I’d brought with me and gauged the situation. I had a new diaper bag that Cullen had bought, and it didn’t have much in it but diapers. No raincoats. No umbrella. I’d packed Ella’s pink changing pad. Maybe that could serve as a little something to keep us from getting drenched? I pulled it out and unrolled it. It was pretty big. It was worth a shot.

  I peered through the gray rain as we continued down to the harbor until I saw about ten motorcycles, all lined up against the side of a one-story white building. There was a silhouette of what might have been an old company sign on the wall, but right now the only words I could make out was the address. 121 Ocean Avenue.

  The door opened and I saw someone with a leather motorcycle jacket and helmet under his arm jogging out. Definitely the right place.

  I scooped Ella into my arms and held the changing pad over our heads. “Thank you!” I said, jumping out into an ankle-deep puddle in the driving rain and wishing I hadn’t worn such a tight, short dress.

  It quickly became clear the pad wasn’t doing shit. The rain was whipping in sideways, pelting us both, loud as a drumbeat in my ears. Ella squealed, delighted by the feeling.

  Head down, I hugged Ella close to me and raced to the entrance, vaguely aware that the door was open for me. Maybe Cullen saw me and was coming out to help.

  When I got closer, though, I heard noise. Shouts. I looked up, blinking away raindrops to see men out there. The Cobras. They were running out. Where were they going?

  I slowed when I saw Cullen, standing at the door of the warehouse, his mouth opened in a scream.

  What the hell was going on?

  When I slowed to a stop and strained to hear, I heard him shout two things: Get and back.

  He started to race for me. I froze. “What?” I called. Ella looked up at me, her chubby, rain-spattered face growing frightened. Dropping the changing pad, I cupped her head and rested her against my chest. “What’s going on?”

  I’d never seen his face as urgent and downright determined as it had been right then. He reached for me, spun me around, and yelled, “Run! Get out of here!”