Blended with Pain: Notorious Devils (Cash Bar Book 4)

by Hayley Faiman

  I don’t wait for him to respond. I’ve had enough talk. I feel like my granny when she would go to the church socials. Like I’m a goddamn gossipin’ old woman. Climbing onto my bike, I wait until Carson settles herself behind me.

  “Missed you,” she whispers against the shell of my ear.

  I grunt. I missed her too, but I’m not admitting it, yet. There’s part of me that wants to give her everything, give her all the fuckin’ good that I have inside of me, even what little of it there is there.

  The rest of me wants to test her. Test her strength. Test her willpower. Test her goddamn fucking loyalty. I feel like an asshole for it, but it’s the truth of it.

  Never claimed I was an easy man. Never claimed this road would be easy, and not just the journey of it, every fucking piece of it is going to be difficult. Any woman who wears my name on her skin, etched with permanent ink has to be willing to go through fucking hell and come out standing, and doing so at my fucking side. She’s already proven she’s strong, raising my kid all on her own. The rest of the shit, the willpower, and the loyalty. That is up for debate.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CARSON

  MONTANA IS BEAUTIFUL. It’s been so long since I’ve seen anything other than the hill country of Texas, I almost forgot how mesmerizing mountains could be. The snow caps are gorgeous, too. Snow. The thought alone makes me shiver. It’s been five years since I’ve seen snow, five years since I’ve touched it. I’m not sure that I’m prepared to live in it again.

  My ass begs for relief and I swear I weep a little when I see the gates to another compound in front of us. I don’t care if it’s a rowdy sex-filled building at this point, I just need to get off of this damn bike. One more full day, that’s all we have left. One more day of travel and then I don’t plan on sitting on a bike again, for at least a decade.

  A man appears once we’ve stopped in front of the gates. He’s around my age, fit, tall, and his russet beard covers most of his face and all of his neck. “Little far from home, ain’t you?” he asks, glancing down at Ace’s vest.

  “Your president is expecting me, kid,” Ace growls.

  He looks Ace up and down, then lifts his chin toward me. “She branded?”

  “None of your goddamn business. She’s on the back of my bike, therefore she don’t exist to you,” he rumbles, his voice lethal sounding.

  The man smirks, his eyes staying on me before he digs his phone out of his pocket. He doesn’t look away from me, his eyes glued and I feel Ace’s body go tight, rigid, and practically vibrate against me. I look toward his hands and notice they’re gripping his handlebars so tightly that his knuckles have turned white.

  The gates begin to open, Ace doesn’t say anything to the guy as he revs his bike and we ride past him into the clubhouse parking area. Once we’re parked, I scramble off of the back of the bike practically giddy with excitement not to have to be sitting for another minute.

  I try to take a step back toward the car that Roxanne is parking, but I don’t get far. Ace hooks his finger in my belt loop and yanks me back toward him and the bike. It should annoy me that he’s always pulling me around by my jean belt loops, but it doesn’t. I like it, more than I should.

  “Don’t go anywhere without me, not even to the fucking bathroom. You understand?” he mutters.

  I don’t question him. The guy at the gate, the way he was watching me, I already know what the answer would be if I did. So, I nod my understanding. Lowering my head, I brush my lips against the corner of his lips, I whisper. “I understand, Ace.”

  He grunts, releasing me and climbing off of his bike. The other men do the same. Roxie and Axe appear at our sides as well as we all just take in the clubhouse. It isn’t as nice as the last one in Henderson, but I try not to judge things by their outward appearance.

  The door flies open, slamming against the side of the building. I jump backward, my back pressing against Ace’s front. His hand slides around my hip and his fingers squeeze. “Let’s go introduce ourselves,” he rasps.

  I don’t want to. I want to go to a hotel. I’m getting nothing but creepy vibes from this place. The man in the doorway scowls at us. He has a thick gray beard, long hair and a round beer belly. His dark eyes meet mine and I can tell he’s been through some shit in his life. He is hardened—like steel.

  “We’re from Canada, on our way back home,” Baby announces once we’re close enough to talk to him.

  He lifts his chin, his eyes scanning all of us. Then he turns back to Baby. “Heard about you three. Heard about the bitches too and the kid. Know what you did for Hoss and his boy. Know what you did for the other kids. Church in five,” he announces.

  My eyes widen as he turns away and stomps back into the clubhouse. “Guess our reputation precedes us,” Houston chuckles.

  “You girls stay in the bar area, do not walk down any hallways, do not go into any rooms,” Ace instructs.

  Roxanne and I look at one another, and then toward Ace. “You don’t have to worry about us at all. I’m staying in plain view and plain sight,” she says. I nod my head in agreement.

  We all walk into the bar area and look around. It’s cleaner than I imagined, old and beat up, but at least it isn’t a disgusting mess. There’s a woman behind the bar and her eyes widen when she looks up at us. The rest of the room is eerily empty though.

  “Go sit at the bar, do not move your ass from there, do you understand me?” Ace growls against my ear.

  I nod, my eyes staying connected to the woman washing glasses. His hand slides down and grabs ahold of my ass before his lips touch my neck and then he, Baby, and Houston are gone.

  “Well, looks like it’s just us and her,” Roxanne whispers. “Here in the fucking twilight zone.”

  Axe moves from Roxie’s side to my own, his little hand wrapping around my own tightly. Even he can sense something is off here. Against my body’s screaming protests, I sit down at the bar and pull Axe into my lap.

  “Hey, I’m Roxanne, this is Carson and Axe,” Roxie says introducing us to the girl behind the bar.

  She smiles sadly, her eyes looking hollow and blank. “Billie,” she says softly. “Not really a clubhouse you guys should hang around for too long. Not unless you want to stay here,” she warns.

  “We have men,” Roxie halfway lies.

  Billie snorts. “They don’t care. This place used to be run by a man named Lucifer. Fucked his own daughter, took off with a girl from town who did not go willingly. Not the best place for a woman to hang out.”

  I shiver from her words. “Where’s that guy now?” Roxie whispers.

  Billie shrugs. “No clue, left and never came back, thank God. Then again, neither did his daughter or the girl,” she says, lifting her brow.

  “We’re only here passing through on our way back home,” I say, again halfway lying to her. She nods as she continues to wash and dry the shot glasses.

  I hear a loud commotion in the back and I jump. Billie lifts her head, her eyes focusing on a closed door, the closed door that all of our men walked through just moments ago. Roxie reaches for my leg and gives it a squeeze. Something is going down, and I’m ready to bolt at any second. Ace told me to stay put, but I’m scared, and I need to protect Axe.

  This place is not right.

  Roxanne and I sit on the edge of our seats, ready to flee at the first sight of danger.

  KEYS

  I SHOULD HAVE DONE a little research on this club before we rolled up. Assuming is the most foolish thing anyone can do. And I’ve just done it. I assumed that all charters of the Notorious Devils are like mine in North Dakota or my new one in Canada. I was fucking wrong. By the sounds of Baby and Houston’s low growls, they are feeling the same way as I am.

  “We’re not raiding the compound here,” Skull, the president announces.

  I open my mouth to object, but Baby is faster. “Why in the fuck not? They’ve taken Devils women, their kids, and they are sick motherfuckers,” he shouts.

/>   Skull shrugs. “You may think so. Fish didn’t. Fish has sent an order of protection. I know him, and I don’t know any of you. Snake thinks he has pull, he doesn’t, not here,” he states simply.

  Fish. Fucking Fish. I knew he was up to something. There is so much more to him, and I’m even more inclined to do some digging now than I was before. He isn’t just cagey, he’s a fucking traitor, I guarantee it.

  “Snake is just repeating the order, MadDog in Cali set it up. He wants all the US compounds destroyed,” Baby announces, speaking of the original charters’ President, MadDog. He has the ultimate pull if Skull wants to throw that around.

  Skull lifts his chin. “Don’t give a fuck. We’re in business with the compound, they leave us alone and we leave them alone, except for a few things. We have a good trade with them. There’s no reason to rock the boat.

  “What do they give you in this trade? I assume you’re supplying them with guns and ammo. What do they give you?” Houston asks.

  As a prospect, Houston shouldn’t even be in this meeting, let alone ask any questions, but he’s been invaluable on this trip and I have a feeling his prospect status will be finished as soon as we walk back onto the Canadian clubhouse grounds.

  Skulls eyes darken, and he grins. “You don’t want to know the answer to that, just know, we ain’t complaining. Now, you all better get on the road before those tasty morsels you brought with you disappear,” he grins.

  Houston jumps on the table and lunges for Skull. Chairs go flying and both Baby and I reach for him, only catching his legs before we attempt to drag him back toward us. Skull has a gun out and pointed directly at Houston’s forehead.

  “Try me, boy,” he growls.

  Clearing my throat, Skull’s eyes shift to mine. “Okay, everyone is just on edge. We’ve been traveling for a really fucking long time. We’ll just gather our women and go,” I offer.

  Skull tilts his head to the side. “What if I said no, leave the bitches here. You can go though, all three of you and that snot-nosed kid you dragged in here with you,” he smirks.

  I shake my head. “I’m not leaving my woman anywhere. She’s mine, the kid is ours,” I state.

  “What about the other one.”

  Without hesitation, Baby speaks. “She’s mine. Claimed and owned. Touch her and I’ll bring hellfire down on you. Let us go without issue and you can do whatever the fuck you like,” he lies.

  “How do I know you won’t go crying to MadDog?”

  I shrug. “You don’t.”

  Skull narrows his gaze and his eyes meet each one of ours, his gun still resting against Houston’s forehead. I can tell he doesn’t know what to do. His brothers are all focused on him, not paying attention to me or Baby anymore.

  Lifting our guns out of our shoulder holsters, thanking fuck that we’re both wearing them, we point them ahead of us. I have one on the president, and one on the VP. Baby has one on each of the two other men of high rank.

  “We’re leaving. With our women,” I say, speaking slowly and taking a couple steps backward. “You got your own way of doing things here. It’s cool man, as long as nobody hurts anyone, we really don’t give a fuck,” I lie.

  I do just want the fuck out of here with Carson, Axe and Roxie. However, I really do give a fuck what they’re doing because it’s obviously something really fucked up.

  Skull lifts his hands in mock surrender. I don’t think that he’s done with us, not yet at least. However, if he kills us right now not only does Snake know this was one of our stops, so does Hoss and the entire crew in Henderson. At least if we all die, they’ll be brought down, eventually, as well.

  Houston scrambles off of the table. “Get the women and my son in the car,” I murmur to him once he reaches my side.

  Baby and I don’t lower our weapons. Skull’s eyes are practically sparkling, and I know this will not go down without some kind of fight. This sick fuck has some kind of deal with the compound, and I know it has to do with women. Pussy for guns, seems like a fair trade, at least in their eyes. To the rest of us, that’s trading with the enemy, and those women they most likely belong to their own Devils brothers. Sick fucks.

  We back away, out the door, and then continue through the bar. I don’t hear the women and hope that Houston got them out and in the car in time like I asked.

  “You know this isn’t over, Keys,” Skull calls out with a smile.

  He’s walking toward us, one step forward for every two we take backward. He’s taunting us, playing with us, and we’re outnumbered. If he wanted to take us down right here and now, he would. He doesn’t though, which means he likes to play games.

  Maybe he thinks he’ll get us before we leave the gate, then take the girls. Maybe he’s going to come for us later. Maybe he’s just fucking crazy and he wants us to always feel like we have to keep an eye on our backs. Who the fuck knows what he’s thinking, but I don’t plan on waiting around to find out, or dropping my guard.

  Once we’re outside, we both straddle our bikes. I shove one of my guns in its holster but keep the other firmly in my grip. Glancing in front of us I’m glad to see that the car and Houston are at the gate, waiting for us. Starting the bikes, we start to take off and that’s when it begins. Bullets fly, the fuck tries to shoot us in the fucking back.

  Reaching behind me, I squeeze out a few rounds, thankful that I kept one piece out. I don’t know if I’ve hit anyone, my only goal is to get the fuck out. When we reach the gate, the same guard is standing there, a grin on his face.

  Holding my gun out I yell, “Open the fucking gate.” He doesn’t make a move and I hear Skull and his crew getting closer behind us.

  Without delay, I pull my trigger shooting him in the forehead. Kicking my stand down, I reach inside of the small guard shack and press the gate’s electronic button. It groans, moving too fucking slowly on its wheels as it opens.

  “Fuck,” I hiss as a bullet whizzes past my head. “They’re getting closer.”

  Once there’s enough room for the car, Houston slams his fist on the hood and it lurches forward. I buzz past them as the leader of our crew and thankfully Skull and his men aren’t smart enough to get on their bikes and follow us immediately.

  However, this is their territory, I have no concept of where to hide, where they wouldn’t find us. The only thing I can think of is to continue on our journey, except I decide to make a detour. Instead of driving straight north I turn us northwest. We can take refuge in about seven and a half hours at a safe clubhouse, the Idaho chapter.

  Fuck.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CARSON

  GUNS.

  Bullets.

  That haunted girl.

  My heart races with each mile we drive away from that wretched clubhouse. Roxanne and I don’t speak. I can’t stop myself from looking in the backseat every five minutes to ensure that Axe is safe. He is asleep now. He thought we were just having fun when we ran, I tried to make it a game, and thankfully since he’s four, he bought it.

  “What the hell happened?” Roxanne whispers after about an hour of driving. We’re following behind Ace’s bike, sticking far closer to his back tire than we probably should.

  I shake my head. “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out. That was the scariest moment of my life,” I whisper.

  She snorts but doesn’t respond. I have a feeling since she was in an abusive relationship what we just experienced is probably up in her top five, but may not be the scariest thing to have ever happened to her. That thought alone makes my chest ache for my friend.

  Another hour of silence goes by before Ace lifts his hand and signals for us to take the next exit. I let out a sigh of relief. I need to talk to him. I need to find out exactly what just happened.

  Axe is awake and whining because he’s hungry. I don’t blame him, I am too, and fucking tired. So damn tired. We pull into a gas station and quickly exit the car. Ace jogs toward me, wrapping his arms around my back as he pulls me in for a hug.


  “You’re good?” he murmurs, burying his face against my neck.

  I nod, afraid to speak. I refuse to break down even though I’m still shaking from two hours ago. Whatever happened, I’m so confused and scared, I don’t know what to think. Ace lifts his head from my neck and searches my eyes with his own.

  “You’re shook the fuck up, Sweet Pea,” he rasps.

  “I’ve never, not ever,” I whimper. “And Axe.” My bottom lip trembles and tears fill my eyes, without my fucking permission, they start to fall.

  Ace gives me a sad smile. “I know, Carson. I got you. Won’t let anything happen to you or my son. Believe that fuckin’ shit,” he growls.

  I nod, trying to keep my tears from falling even more, but I fail. I completely fail. Ace lets me too, he holds me close, his warmth surrounding me. I hear his voice murmur, but I can’t make out the words. I just press my face against his chest, and I sob, my body jerking with each cry.

  “All right, Sweet Pea, you need to calm down now,” he cajoles softly, his hand gently gliding up and down my spine. “We’re going to go get some food, then we need to hit the road again. We have another five hours before we can safely stop for the night,” he explains.

  Lifting my face from his chest, my brows furrow. “Will we be safe, Ace? Really, will we be?” I ask in almost a pleading tone.

  He lifts one of his hands, cupping my cheek. “Carson, you’re always safe with me. Always. Never forget it.”

  I want to believe him, but a week ago I was actually safe going to and from my predictable, albeit boring, job. Taking care of my nephew, and just living a mundane life. Now, I’m driving across the country, getting shot at, and having copious amounts of sex with my sister’s ex-boyfriend.

  None of this feels safe. No matter what he says.

  “I’ll take care of you, of Axe, swear to fuck, I will,” he says just loud enough for only me to hear.

  I nod, still not quite believing him. I want to believe him, but I just don’t. Not yet anyway. We load back into the car and the men on the bikes as we follow them to a small diner. Axe lets out a long dramatic sigh as soon as he sees the restaurant.