UnCage me (Savage Beast MC Book 8)

by Hayley Faiman

  Turning to my side, I finally force my eyes to open and I smile at the small piece of paper on the pillow next to mine.

  Dylan may not have told me that he loves me yet, but he shows me daily. He leaves me sweet notes when he’s gone before I wake up. He brings me lunch when he can, and even a milkshake if he makes a trip to town, knowing that I have been craving sweets like crazy.

  Sunny,

  Have to work all day. Won’t be around. Don’t worry. Be back later. Modular gets delivered this weekend. Can’t wait to move in together.

  -D

  I shiver as if a blast of cold has rushed through me. Something doesn’t sit well with me, instantly. I just have that gut feeling that something isn’t right. Sitting up, I throw my legs over the side of the bed and rush to the bathroom.

  Immediately I’m sick. As I am every morning. Once I’ve cleaned up, showered, and dressed, I attempt to go down to the bar.

  Another wave of nausea stops me and I have to brush my teeth again. Trying to keep myself from doing it again, I stand with my eyes closed and take a few calming deep breaths. When I finally feel like my stomach is calm enough that I can leave the room, I start to head toward the bar again.

  I make it on the third attempt.

  Pinkie isn’t in her usual place behind the bar, she’s also not in her second normal place, which is the kitchen. I can’t even begin to call her Alyssa, that is the past and I think we both need the future, so she’ll be Pinkie and I’m good with that.

  The entire place is oddly empty and I frown as I look around for a friendly face, anyone would do really, even a clubwhore.

  Licking my lips, I sink my teeth into my bottom lip as I look around the room. Slowly, I make my way toward the back door, holding my breath the entire way. There are only a couple bikes in the lot and I find that just as strange as the bar being empty.

  Deciding that I can’t stand around here and wonder a second longer, I head toward Gisele and Coyote’s place. I know I haven’t really talked to her much since Dylan got angry with me about hanging out with her, but I can’t stay away, not when I’m freaking the hell out.

  Lifting my hand, I start to knock, but the door swings open and I’m met with Gisele. Her hair is as wild as her eyes. I blink a few times, but I don’t even get a chance to open my mouth to ask her what is going on when she reaches out, wraps her fingers around my wrist, and tugs me inside of the house before slamming and locking the door behind me.

  “What is happening?” I demand.

  She shakes her head, her eyes wide. “I don’t know, but it’s not good. The guys went flying out of here like a bat out of hell,” she snaps. “I saw you on my security camera.”

  “What the hell is going on? Do you know anything? Where is Pinkie?” I demand, my entire body trembling in fear.

  I can’t have just gotten her back to have her ripped away from me. We haven’t even had a chance to connect as friends, yet, not nearly enough.

  She shakes her head. “I don’t know anything. Coen ran out of here like he was on fire, told me to lock up. I’ve been keeping my phone close, but he hasn’t texted and I don’t want to bother him and distract him.”

  “I thought war was all said and done, that everything was good,” I breathe.

  She chuckles. “War is never done. There is always someone else ready to come after you, if you have something worth taking and we do, babe. Right here, this entire place, these men, they have something everyone wants.”

  “What’s that?” I whisper.

  Her lips curve up into a grin. “They have happiness, babe. They have a good income, they have respect, good women, and loyalty. People kill for a lot less.”

  “I’m scared,” I whisper.

  The smile dies on her lips and she nods her head. “I am too. But we have one another, so let’s just focus on that. Have you eaten?”

  JAGUAR

  It’s supposed to be a quick and easy job. We’re supposed to ride to the Sinister Skulls clubhouse and provide protection for a shipment of guns going to Albuquerque.

  It’s not something any of us would normally do, but it’s a favor that we’re doing. A marker of sorts. The club is a friendly one, and they’ve promised a clear ride from Quemado to the clubhouse in Albuquerque.

  I don’t have a good gut feeling about any of this.

  Everyone is on edge, the club is rolling to New Mexico in full force. I think about Pamela and hope that she’s getting some rest. Maybe I’ll even be home before she wakes up.

  This trip should be a quick one. Three hours there and back, since we left at five in the morning, we should be home by lunch.

  When we arrived to Quemado, we don’t even get off of our bikes. Dragon lifts his hand to Bones and he does the same before they roll out in front of us. We follow behind since we have no fucking idea how to get to where we’re going.

  First stop is the guns. Bones has his own system here. Although the Beasts have full control and get a cut of the business Bones does, Dragon lets him operate pretty solo, considering they’ve been trustworthy thus far. I don’t blame him, but at the same time, I don’t think I could ever fully trust a Skull.

  The ride to their storage unit is only a few minutes and this time we do disengage from our bikes as he opens up the rolling door to the metal building. I’m taken aback by the sheer volume of firepower that he has lining the walls, and the tables that he has set up and covered in gun after gun, after gun.

  “Brother, I think you haven’t been telling me exactly what you’ve been up to around here,” Dragon says after whistling at the sight.

  Bones only laughs. “My accounting has been on point. Not a number out of place. But I’m here to build an empire, not fuck around.”

  “Apparently not,” Dragon grunts as he walks around the building and surveys the equipment. “Seems you’ve been making good contacts, and doing good sales.”

  “Only because we have the Savage Beast name backing us, and you know that.”

  It’s Dragon’s turn to chuckle and he looks back over his shoulder at Bones. “And that’s the way it’ll stay.”

  “Business is too fucking good not to.”

  “Good.”

  “This club is sketchy,” Bones begins. “They’ve been hounding me for this deal for months. I’m relenting only because the money is so goddamn good.”

  “You’re just telling us this now?” Silver asks, rubbing the still fresh bullet wound he has from the Punchers.

  Bones grins. “Yeah, but that’s why I needed you guys along with me. They won’t fuck with us, not in these numbers. They’re a smaller club, fairly new. Veterans, or so they claim.”

  “Don’t they all?” Mountain grumbles.

  Dragon growls. “Bones, we could have had Worm check them out, vet them. What the fuck, man? This is not cool, sending us in there goddamn blind.”

  “Had a couple brothers on them for weeks, Dragon. They’ve been watching them, day in and day out. Not a second without eyes on them. It’s the only reason I’ve finally agreed to this sale.”

  “I hope you don’t fuck us, and neither do they,” Mountain barks.

  Nobody says anything else, the truck is loaded down with firepower and we surround it as we head the fuck toward Albuquerque. We have no goddamn clue what we’re heading into, but we’re going in balls deep.

  I just hope this doesn’t fuck us in the end. I think we’ve had enough of that shit lately. We need a goddamn break. I just want this weekend to come. I want to be able to move into the modular with my pregnant woman.

  Then in a few weeks, she’ll be my wife, she just doesn’t know it yet. Worm has been working on documentation for her, getting her a license and birth certificate. If it wasn’t for him, I’d probably never be able to marry her.

  I told her she could probably go down to the courthouse and get a copy of her birth certificate, but she told me she didn’t even want to see the real thing, not ever. I didn’t push her, I hate my father with a goddamn passion
, but he wasn’t nearly as vile as Riot. I couldn’t imagine if he was and how I would feel about that.

  So, Worm offered to throw some fake names on there and create a new one, a whole new fucking identity for her. She’s got no credit cards, no school records, nothing to prove she even exists so this way she can be whoever the fuck she wants to be.

  We’re just a few miles outside of the clubhouse when all of the guys pull off to the side with jerks. A couple guys even have to lay down their bikes. I turn and almost have to do the same.

  Looking ahead, I blink at what I see.

  Holy fucking shit.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  PAMELA

  Gisele and I bake.

  Yes, we bake.

  “It’s what I do when I can’t do anything else,” she exclaims as she takes butter and eggs out of the fridge.

  I watch her for a moment, then I help. I’ve never baked anything before, I’ve never cooked either. In fact, I haven’t done much in life. She doesn’t ask me, but she can sense that I have no clue what I’m doing as I kind of stand awkwardly to the side and watch her gather ingredients.

  “You’re going to do this and I’m going to supervise. Have you read a recipe before?”

  Shaking my head, I can’t even speak. She nods her head once, then flips over a package of chocolate chips and proceeds to tell me all about recipes. It isn’t rocket science, but I have a feeling that it is harder than it seems.

  Licking my lips, I begin, and I screw up more than once, but thankfully Gisele is standing right beside me to help. It keeps us busy for a while, it takes things off of our minds, which I’m grateful for. Once the cookies are in the oven and baking, everything comes rushing back.

  “Is there someone we can call?” I ask. “Where’s Pinkie and the others?”

  She clears her throat. “I think there is some kind of safe room somewhere in the clubhouse, or maybe they’re hiding out in Dragon’s office, I honestly don’t know much about what happens over there,” she says, her voice soft and barely above a whisper.

  “Is there anyone we can contact?”

  Gisele chews on her bottom lip. “Worm. He’s the only one that will most likely not be in the middle of whatever it is, and he’ll have all of the info. Though, I doubt he’ll tell us anything.”

  “Call him,” I plead.

  “Coen is going to be pissed off,” she whispers as she reaches for her phone. “But I’m sure I can persuade him to get over it… eventually.”

  Smiling, I try not to laugh at her words as she scrolls through her phone. When she finds the name that she’s looking for, instead of placing the phone at her ear, she puts it on speaker. I could kiss the woman.

  “You shouldn’t be calling,” he says as his greeting.

  Gisele laughs softly. “We just want to know what’s going on.”

  “We?”

  “I’m with her. It’s Pamela,” I offer so that he doesn’t think that there is a problem.

  “Doesn’t matter. You girls stay where you are.”

  We’re quiet for a moment, our eyes finding one another’s, and we both blink. “Do we need to be in the safe room?” Gisele asks, her soft sweetness now gone, and a determined, strong woman in charge takes its place.

  “Not yet,” he says ominously.

  “Worm,” she demands.

  “When I know more, I’ll have someone call you.”

  Something shifts in her gaze and I watch as her hands start to tremble. “Is Coen okay?” she asks on an exhale.

  “He’s fine.”

  The call ends with that and we’re left staring at one another with wide eyes. Gisele is trembling just as much as I am. Something happened, but he’s not telling us. That means it’s much bigger than we could probably even imagine let alone guess.

  “What the fuck?” I ask, unable to stay quiet and stare at Gisele a moment longer.

  She shakes her head and opens her mouth just as the kitchen timer goes off. “Cookies are done. Let’s get those out of the oven, then we’ll make some calls.”

  “Are you worried?” I ask.

  She nods her head but doesn’t verbally say anything. I decide not voicing our concerns and worries is the way to go. I stay quiet as well. Following her orders, I don’t even pay attention to what I’m doing. I take the cookies off of the heavy stone with a spatula and place them on the rack.

  “What now?” I ask, trying not to sound demanding, but knowing that I fail completely.

  Gisele’s torso jerks and she looks up to me, her phone clutched in her hand. She clears her throat, then shifts her attention back to her phone and I hear it ringing again. I don’t know who she’s calling, but whoever it is, she has faith that they’re going to know something.

  “Hello?” a female voice answers.

  “What is going on?” Gisele demands.

  There is a moment of silence, and I hold my breath waiting for whatever is going to happen next, whatever this person is going to say. Then whatever that news is going to do to me. I have a feeling that it’s going to affect all of us.

  Every single one of us.

  It’s just this gut-wrenching, churning, squeezing feeling inside of me.

  My body physically hurts.

  “I don’t know, but I was told to stay home, not go anywhere at all. I’m really worried. I’ve texted Silver a few times and there’s been no response. I looked at his location and he’s outside of Albuquerque.”

  “He lets you track him?” Gisele asks, her voice full of awe.

  Presley laughs. “Only since he was shot. It’s a new thing, but I’m not mad about it at all. I’m happy I can ease my peace of mind and know where he is, at least I was.”

  “Shit,” I hiss. “I think something is wrong.”

  “Me too,” Presley says at the same time Gisele says the exact same thing.

  “What do we do?” Gisele asks.

  There is a long moment of silence, then Presley lets out a sigh. “Nothing,” she murmurs. “We wait. I have a feeling whatever is happening there, if we show up it would make everything ten times worse.”

  “I was afraid you would say that. I still want to know that Dylan is okay,” I mutter.

  “I know, babe,” she says softly and she means it.

  We end the call, then stare at the warm, freshly baked cookies and reach for one. Once the soft cookie hits my tongue, I can’t help but moan.

  A sense of pride fills me.

  I made this.

  For just a moment, I’m comforted and I realize that this is why people talk about comfort food. I’ve never understood it until this moment, mostly because nothing in my life has ever felt comfortable—not until now.

  JAGUAR

  Bullets fly.

  It’s a full-on fucking war zone. Except as I look around, I realize that we aren’t the target. Not the way I thought originally. I watch as everyone scrambles to take cover behind the truck. I’m the last to arrive. Silver is grinding his teeth together, holding his arm against his chest.

  “Probably gonna need the doc. I think I tore some shit on the inside. I’m not one hundred percent yet,” he announces.

  Fuck.

  Our bikes litter the highway and I wonder when the cops will get here to start shooting and arresting people. Because there is no way in fuck this shit is going to go down quietly without some type of law enforcement involvement.

  “They aren’t shooting at us,” I say, announcing the obvious.

  The sounds of the gunfire popping in the distance doesn’t even make me jump. However, I’m worried about what the fuck the Skulls brought us into. I don’t say anything though, it’s not my fucking business, not yet at least.

  “I don’t know that other group,” Bones states.

  Dragon growls. “You brought us into a literal fucking gunfight. Explain this shit,” he demands.

  Bones looks down at his shoes, spitting on the asphalt before he lifts his gaze to meet ours. “They wanted guns for a reason.”
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  He doesn’t elaborate and we all stare at him, waiting for him to continue. It takes him a few beats before he decides to enlighten us further.

  “This club has been trying to intimidate them into leaving and giving up their territory. They don’t want to do that.”

  “Who gives a fuck, why are we in the middle of a goddamn gunfight,” I shout, unable to stay quiet a second longer.

  Everyone looks over at me for a second, then shifts their attention back to Bones. “Not a bad question,” Dragon says, his voice eerily calm and I know he’s close to losing his own shit.

  “I don’t know about their shit. They wanted guns, I sent scouts to make sure their shit was tight. That’s all I fuckin’ got. Do you know the Zanetti’s business when you deliver shit to them?”

  Now Bones is pissed too, but his words make sense. I frown, unsure that I want to agree with anything Bones says. A Skull is a Skull, no matter if they’re patched over or not. They will never truly be Beasts.

  “I would hope that Gavino would let me know if he was in the middle of a war that could jeopardize my delivery and the safety of my men,” Dragon growls.

  Bones shakes his head, lifting his hand and runs his fingers through his hair. “He told me that a group was trying to get in on his shit. Just said that. Don’t know what you think it means, but he didn’t hide anything.”

  “But you did,” Silver points out. “We came into this shit blind, we trusted you.”

  We’re all quiet for another moment and even the gunfire ceases. That is, right before it starts up again. When it does, I jump because it’s fucking right in front of us. We all take our personal guns out of their holsters, at least those of us who hadn’t done it already.

  “Fuck this. I’m going out there shooting and I don’t give a fuck who I hit,” Mountain snaps.

  He starts to move from behind the truck when one of the men rounds the truck. We don’t know if he’s friend or foe. Bones is the only one who knows dick about this club. We all lift our weapons and Bones walks through us to get to him.