Blade: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Devil's Fangs MC) (Bad Boy Bikers Club Book 5)

by Naomi West

“I’m so very sorry.”

  The voice at her shoulder startled Venus, who’d been so focused on Vixen that she hadn’t even realized one of the nurses was standing next to her. She had kindly gray eyes and dark hair, and she looked far too young to be in this profession. “What?”

  “I’m afraid she’s passed,” the nurse said. “Her heart just couldn’t hold up anymore. We did everything we could. We don’t like for anyone to have to see that, which is why I was trying to get you out of the room. Would you like a few minutes alone?”

  Venus gasped, unable to quite understand what had just happened. She’d seen and heard it, and there was no denying it, and yet she still couldn’t wrap her mind around the idea that Vixen was truly gone. She’d been holding onto so much hope that she might pull through, and it had all been for nothing.

  At the very least, she knew she’d said what she wanted to say. Vixen had known, before she died, just how much Venus had loved and appreciated her. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough, but Venus had learned a long time ago that life didn’t go the way she wanted it to. In fact, things always seemed to be the opposite.

  When she stepped outside into the sunshine, which seemed such a deep contrast to the way she felt in her heart, Venus found that even the early afternoon rays couldn’t warm her. She was chilled to the bone, knowing that she was once again alone in the world. She’d been a fool to think it would ever be otherwise, and yet she hadn’t been able to help herself. The only good it had really done her was to put her in between her father and this Blade who wanted to threaten him, and it had put her even further from being in Jet’s good graces.

  “Good job, Venus,” she muttered to herself as she stood on the sidewalk in front of the hospital, feeling lost. “You’ve done a really good job this time.”

  A row of taxis waited near the curb for anyone who might want a ride. Venus got in the back of one, feeling numb and not knowing what else to do.

  The driver grinned at her in the mirror. “Where can I take you, pretty lady?”

  She lifted her shoulders in the beginning of a shrug, ready to give up and go home to Jet. He’d just love to hear that Vixen was dead. He’d probably rub it in her face and remind her that her vigil at the hospital hadn’t done any good. Then he’d remind her what a useless piece of shit she was and how she didn’t deserve all that he’d given her. “The Grungy Mug,” she finally answered.

  The cabbie put the car in gear, but he turned to glance at her over his shoulder. “Are you sure? Pardon me for saying so, but that’s not really the kind of place for ladies.”

  A sardonic snort of laughter escaped her lips. “I don’t think it matters.”

  “If you say so.” He shot away from the curb and into traffic.

  The Grungy Mug was, as the driver had said, not exactly a place for ladies. Even in the daylight, it looked just as dirty as its name, with nondescript wooden siding that was colored more from age and dirt than from any paint or stain. The neon sign over the door was barely working, flickering meekly to compete with the sun, and the windows had been painted black. It might have seemed strange to Venus to visit a place like this during the day, even though she’d been dragged her plenty at night. But when she stepped through the door, she found that the clock didn’t matter.

  It was incredibly dark inside, with only a few neon signs and pool table lighting keeping the patrons from stumbling over each other. Still, she could feel their gazes turn to rest on her as soon as she entered. Venus didn’t look around to see if there were other women here or who might see her. She didn’t care. She plopped herself down on a barstool and leaned heavily on the worn wood.

  The bartender walked quickly to her place and leaned forward, talking quietly. “Are you lost, honey? I can call you a cab.”

  She glared up at him, turning her face toward the light from an old Budweiser sign. “It’s me, Wolf.”

  The man behind the bar widened his eyes in surprise. “What are you doing here in the middle of the day? Only the true drunks are here at this time.”

  “Hey!” called a slurred voice from down the bar.

  “Yes, you know you’re one of them,” Wolf called back. “Does your dad know you’re here?” he asked Venus.

  “It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. Now please, just give me something strong. I don’t care what it is.”

  He studied her face for another long moment before nodding. “Okay. But I sure hope you’re not going to get me into more trouble than I can handle.” He set a glass on the counter and poured a generous shot of whiskey, leaving the bottle.

  Venus hoped so too. Wolf might run one of the seediest bars in the city, but he’d never been anything but nice to her. She knew, as he did, that there was a chance her father would try to blame him for her presence here. It wouldn’t be to save her the punishment, because she’d get plenty of it, but merely because he liked having someplace to point the finger. Everything was always someone else’s fault, and Venus had to wonder if Vixen’s death was hers.

  She sipped the whiskey slowly, enjoying the burn it sent down her throat. After a glass or two, it was starting to make the dim lights and the dirty bar more appealing, and she managed to find a gleam of happiness in the way the booze had warmed her body.

  A man sat next to her. “Hey there, honey. I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”

  “Then you just haven’t been here at the right time before,” she said as she turned to him with a smile. Tears still threatened to spill over her lashes, but the burn of the whiskey had taken the sting out of them. She didn’t recognize him, and he looked like any other sleaze that might come to a place like this. But the way he smiled at her made her think maybe he wasn’t so bad.

  “I’d buy you a drink, but I see you’ve already got one.” He gestured at the nearly empty bottle of whiskey as Wolf slid a beer down the counter to him.

  She picked up the bottle and shook the amber liquid in the bottom, wishing there was more of it. Where had it all gone? “It was full just a minute ago,” she muttered.

  “Why don’t you come dance with me, honey? I could use a little company, and I think you could, too.” He reached out to take her by the arm.

  Venus slid off the barstool, trying to gauge the distance to the floor and nearly falling into the stranger. He caught her and they both laughed. She almost didn’t recognize the sound coming from her, and she liked it. She laughed again as he swung her out onto the dance floor.

  “There we go. What’s your name, honey?”

  She rested her head on his shoulder simply so she wouldn’t have to hold it up any longer. “I don’t like my name.”

  “I’m sure it’s a perfectly nice one. Just tell me.” He took hold of her hips and pressed her close. “I’ll bet it’s just as pretty as you are.”

  “Excuse me. I need to cut in.” A different set of hands pulled her away from the stranger and led her toward the front door. “You’ve had too much, Venus. I think we need to get you home.”

  She squinted up to see that Wolf was guiding her. She didn’t even feel her feet moving and wondered for a moment if he was carrying her. “What did I do? Did I start a fight or something?”

  “Nothing like that. But you’re going to get yourself in trouble if you’re that drunk in a place like this. I don’t want to see anything happening to you.” He smiled down at her with sympathy as he opened the front door.

  Venus put her hand up to shield her eyes from the sun, but it had disappeared. “When did it get dark?”

  “Quite some time ago.” Wolf raised his hand and made a cab magically appear. He poured Venus into the back and gave her address to the driver. “You get home and sleep it off, Venus. I’ll see you around.” He slapped the top of the car.

  The next thing Venus knew, she was waking up in her driveway. Her stomach churned uncomfortably as she stumbled out of the cab and toward the front door. The warm, happy feeling she’d had at the bar had somehow disappeared, and she was angry with W
olf for kicking her out. She hadn’t done anything wrong, and she was going to give that bastard a piece of her mind when she saw him again.

  Venus made it inside and to the kitchen, where she managed to fish a bottle of something out of the liquor cabinet. She didn’t even check the label as she tipped it into her mouth. Anything would do.

  The lights turned on, burning into her eyes. “What the hell are you doing? And where have you been?”

  Venus turned to see Jet standing in the doorway. He was dressed in a silk robe and matching pajama pants, and his dark hair was disheveled. He glared angrily at her, which only made her feel more agitated. “I’m fucking drinking. What are you doing?” She punctuated the sentence with another slosh from the bottle. Some of it missed and dribbled down her chin.

  “It’s three in the morning. The people at the hospital said you left over twelve hours ago. Where did you go, and why didn’t you check in with me?” Jet stepped forward and snatched the bottle out of her hands.

  “Hey!” She reached for it, but he held it easily out of her grasp. Giving up, Venus matched his scowl with one of her own. “I don’t need your permission to drink, you know. I’m twenty … twenty …”

  “Twenty-six,” Jet finished for her, putting the lid back on the bottle and returning it to the cabinet. “You’re twenty-six years old, and yet you act like you’re three. You say you don’t like it that I control your life, but I don’t see that you give me much choice.”

  Somewhere, in some small part of her mind that wasn’t thoroughly soaked in alcohol, Venus knew that wasn’t quite true. “You just like to be the big man. You think you can control everyone around you with your money and your power and your guns. But you’re a fraud. You’re just another asshole, and the world doesn’t need any more of those.”

  The smack of his hand across her cheek was a shock, but it didn’t do anything to sober her up. “You’re such a rotten little bitch! I don’t know why I put up with you at all!”

  “Then you don’t have to anymore!” She pushed past him toward the kitchen door. “I’ll pack my shit and I’ll get out of here. You won’t have to deal with me anymore, and I won’t have to deal with you. What a relief that’ll be!”

  He snatched her arm and yanked her backward. “You need me. You wouldn’t make it one second out there in the world, and your current condition only proves it.”

  Venus put her face close to his, wanting to make sure he heard her point. “I’d rather be living in a cardboard box on the street than here with you. At least then I’d know I’m my own person. Nobody would be bossing me around anymore or threatening to sell me off.”

  “I do what’s best for us!” he screamed. “You want to get all offended when I ask you to do your part, but it’s nothing more than business. It’s not my fault you want to be a whiney little bitch about it!”

  His fist came toward her so quickly. She had some small thought of ducking, but her body didn’t cooperate. Venus stumbled backward with the blow, taking two kitchen chairs with her before she finally hit the tile floor. The light from the fixture overhead was too much, but she was too dazed to do anything about it.

  It was dimmed significantly as Jet leaned over her, his face twisted in anger. “One of these days, you’re going to learn to listen to me.” He stepped over her and out of the room.

  Venus lay on the cold floor for a long time, but she thought of nothing. There were no thoughts left worth having, and for a moment she considered the gun in her nightstand. Of course she hadn’t brought it to the hospital with her, but every one of the Skulls was expected to be armed. Maybe she could just end it all for herself, and then she wouldn’t need to worry about it anymore.

  Eventually she rolled over and pushed herself up on her elbows. It hurt, pain blistering through her body with every move she made, but she got to her hands and knees and out of the kitchen. She wanted to get on her feet and walk proudly and indignantly to her room, even though nobody was there to see her, but it wasn’t going to happen. Her stomach threatened to break free of her body, and she couldn’t blame it. She’d had far too much to drink, and it was a miracle she was even conscious.

  Reaching the living room, Venus looked up the stairs. It would be like climbing a mountain to get to her room. Her eye throbbed with pain merely at the thought, but it would only continue to prove Jet right if he found her sprawled on the floor come morning. She fought the urge to retch as she headed up. Venus stopped to rest after only a few stairs, but there was no turning back now.

  When she finally reached the landing and turned toward her room, she felt a shiver of fear run down her spine. Jet’s room was just down the hall from hers. What if he heard her? What if he decided he wanted to come finish the job? It would be easy enough to shove her down the stairs and say it had been an accident. No, if she was going to die, then it would be on her own terms.

  Thankfully, she’d left her bedroom door open a crack. Venus crawled inside and to her bed, using the last of her effort to remove the gun from its place in the nightstand. Only moonlight illuminated her room, and it was enough to study the hard metallic lines of the weapon. It was a small thing, almost pretty with its custom wooden grips, and yet it was deadly.

  But Venus knew she couldn’t do it. If she killed herself, then what had Vixen died for? Her friend had sacrificed her life to save Venus, and it wasn’t right to throw it away like that. Grim determination settled over her as she carefully placed the pistol back in its place.

  She crawled into bed, too exhausted to even take off her clothes. Her body and her heart ached with more pain than she’d ever felt in her life. It would’ve been easy to just end it, but she knew she was tougher than that. As she drifted off, she felt the beginnings of a new plan formulating in her mind.

  6

  Sunlight filtered through the curtains and into Blade’s eyes. He sighed and rolled over, turning away from the light. But as comfortable as he was in bed, he knew he couldn’t stay there. He had business to take care of.

  That was one downside of running the Fangs. He had just about everything a man could want: plenty of money, a woman at hand when he needed it, and a custom motorcycle. He even had his brothers at his back whenever things went bad. But the price he paid for all of that was knowing the responsibility for all these people rested on his shoulders. He often didn’t get enough sleep or had to be pulled away from parties just to handle the massive amount of business that came along with a big organization like this.

  Sighing, Blade flicked back the covers and ducked into his private bathroom. He had his own house, a huge affair that was ridiculous for a bachelor, but most of the time he preferred to stay at the clubhouse. It was easier to stay where he was needed, and he liked knowing he was no different than the other men in that regard.

  He splashed water on his face and ran wet fingers through his hair to wake himself up. He stretched as he turned back toward the bedroom to pull on a pair of sweats and an old T-shirt before heading downstairs for breakfast.

  Several others were in the common area that served as a dining room for the men and the club girls, even though most of the women usually took off to eat in the kitchen. The cook had already laid out platters of fried eggs, bacon, toast, biscuits, and sausage along with bowls of gravy and fruit. A steaming coffee carafe sat directly in front of his place at the head of the table, and he reached for it eagerly. “What’s the news this morning? Only good stuff, I hope?”

  But the look exchanged between Champ and Gator told him otherwise. The big bald man cleared his throat. “It can wait until after you’ve eaten.”

  Blade gave him a look over his cup of black coffee. “Doesn’t sound like it can.”

  “Okay, but just remember, you asked for it. The Savage Skulls are working in our territory again.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Blade cursed. Fury flooded his veins, eliminating any sleepiness he’d still felt on his way down to breakfast. How dare that asshole keep right on using his territory? Blade wanted
nothing more than to wrap his hands around Jet’s throat and show him just how he dealt with men who crossed him. It pissed him off, but it didn’t abate his hunger. He picked up a plate and began serving himself from the platters of food. He was going to need plenty of fuel to handle the day, he was sure. “What’d they do this time?”

  “Nothing quite as extreme as before,” Champ assured him. As his second, he had been informed of the woman who was shot and Gator’s mission to find out more about it. “But several of their members were spotted boosting cars down on Alexander Street.”

  Blade shook his head. “You’d think they’d at least go for a neighborhood where they’d find a vehicle that was worth something. They’re stubborn and stupid, and I can’t just stand around and let this happen.” He dug into his eggs, barely tasting them as he began thinking of what he was going to do.”

  “Um, there’s a little bit more news,” Gator said. He picked up a newspaper, flipped it around to the right page, and passed it to his boss, tapping his finger on the corner. “That woman they shot died in the hospital. Of course, they didn’t print any details as to what really happened, but that’s the right name and everything.”

  Blade skimmed it over before turning back to his breakfast with a sigh. These Skulls were turning into quite the pain in the ass. “I guess I’m going to have to find a better way to convince them to stay on their own territory than just warning them. I just haven’t decided how I want to do it yet.”

  “I say we go in full-force,” Champ suggested, his knuckles whitening as he curled his hands into fists. “Guys like Jet don’t listen to reason, and he’s made it pretty obvious that he doesn’t care what anyone else thinks. This is probably a ploy to slowly take over our territory, and he thinks we won’t notice. Gather up the men, ride out, and take them down.”

  “I think we should be a little more subtle, at least at first,” came Gator’s advice. “Let him think he’s getting away with it. We’ll carry out a few special missions of our own on Skull territory and hurt their business. Or maybe we can start some rumors that’ll stop the local dealers from wanting to do business with them. If they can’t source their drugs or sell car parts, it’ll really affect their income.”