by Kerri Ann
She cracks her neck. “Just give me whatcha got. I’ll see if I can fill in the blank spots.”
Fine. Taking a seat beside her, I try out the CliffsNotes version. “Lucius and Cody are brothers. Grim or Hector is their dad, and he seems to be the leader of a cartel from Mexico. Got me so far?”
“Yep, I had that, but who’s the other guy? Rap?”
“I’m at a loss too. I have the feeling he’s known them since they were kids, though.”
“And that Code. I’d rate him on the same level as Trigger, but without the angst.”
“Who are you rating against that Trigger guy?” A dark voice rings out.
“Trigger?” Looking around the space, I don’t see him. “Where the hell are you?”
“Over here,” he groans. Lifting a metal grate on the floor, his head is visible as he pokes it through. Running over to help, Jazzy and I hold the heavy lid as high as we can so that he and another guy can rise through it.
Why didn’t I see it last time? Shit. If I’d known it was here, would I have had enough strength to hold it open? Probably not.
“What’s goin’ on, girls?” Trigger asks as he hops through, finally standing upright. Continuing to hold the lid, we watch as the second man passes through.
Jazzy quips sarcastically, “Oh, you know. Guns, bows drawn, knives, family squabble and dead DEA. Just a lovely day in paradise.”
“Well, bows I get, guns—sure, and a family squabble is always expected. But who’s having fun with knives without me?” With a monster smile, the newcomer seems giddy to get in on the action. “Pop the door. Let me go have some fun.”
“Who’s this guy again?” Jazzy asks Trigger.
“Jasmine, Sinner. Sinner, Oubliette. Sinner’s with Heartless, recently appointed to the position of president.”
“Recently?” I ask.
“Soulless is downstairs. Two to the chest.” His voice is devoid of emotion, but you can’t miss that he’s trying to act tough. I can see that he’s upset. He’s sad. With a throat clearing sound, he palms a blade. “So, who’s going to open the door for me? I’m not staying in here like a bitch.”
“I will,” I tell him. I haven’t heard gunshot or scuffling sounds, but it’s not like they’re having a tea party, which means the danger is still out there.
I move to the door. “You comin’?” he asks Trigger.
“Fuck yeah. Like you can do this alone, pussy.”
Well that’s a first. Not only because Trigger is talking, more than one or two words, but the last man I heard call him a pussy had a week in traction for their troubles.
“Lead on,” Sinner says, laughing.
I can’t believe they both willingly want to go out there. But if they want it, who am I to stop them. Opening the door, I peer out. Flanking each other, Lucius, Cody, Bennett, and Miss each have a weapon drawn. As the two men join the others, I look at Lucius’s father. He’s calm. His whole demeanor shows that he believes he has the upper hand against well-armed men.
Closing the door quick, I lock it once more. “How’s it going out there?” Jaz asks.
“Hard to say. They have the upper hand.”
“How is it hard to say if they have the upper hand?”
“Something tells me that man has a trick or two up his sleeve. If not, do you think Bennett and Lucius would still be standing there staring at him?”
“Shit.”
Laughing, I pat the edge of the bed as I take a seat. “Come on. I have the feeling we’ll be here a while.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Busta
If wishes were Harleys, I’d need a garage full to fulfill what I need out of life. To fix the wrongs against us and to make things right.
As the side door opened, I was ready to tell Obi to shut the fucking thing and hide as far away as she could. Seeing Trigger and Sinner walk out, though, with guns and knives at the ready, I think it finally put everything into perspective with my father.
“There’s no good way out of this.”
He’s outnumbered.
Swinging the cuffs, twirling them on my finger, I watch as Hector sees that the odds are no longer in his favor.
Pushing off the bar, taking a walk to the railing, he looks over. “You know, this building was state-of-the-art. The puta and guera that came through here were of the finest quality. I never worried if what you sent me would perform or sell well.” He turns back to face me. “So now you want me to give in? You think I’ll turn myself over to you?”
He pauses.
Staring me in the eye, then looking to Code and Rap, he says, “What if I offer you more profit? What if I gave you more control? Would that entice you to keep up our arrangements?”
“I think I speak for all of us—no.” Stepping toward him, I know that my brother and these men have my back, but I still don’t trust Hector.
“Fine. Lucius, you’ve done me proud, niño. You’re more than I imagined you could be. I’ll relent.” With me close enough to clip the first bracelet on, I slap it to his outstretched wrist. As I move to link the second, with a move faster than I anticipated, he slips under my arm and holds his clipped arm to my neck. What a stupid fucking move.
He speaks low and close. “I never wanted this, remember that. I always loved you.”
“Funny way to show it,” I state through a strained and exposed throat. With gritted teeth, Hector turns me to face those that stand against him.
Switching tactics, looking for them to switch sides, Hector makes a try for my brother. “Cap, Raptor, I’ll give you control over San Bern if you let me go.” Bold move. Cap and I haven’t been close, so it’s a smart approach.
Raising his eyes to meet mine, Code almost looks like he’ll give in. “Nah, I’m good. We have enough with the legal shit. We don’t need someone else’s problems.”
“I can make you fucking rich! No more dime-store operations. You’d be a fucking king.” Hector is grasping at straws as he turns to Sinner.
He twirls a butterfly knife back and forth. “I’m good. Thanks, but fuck you.”
Hector’s running out of options. He may have me in a precarious position with the cuff pressed against my throat, but I’m not afraid. He’s learning that loyalty is the currency—not fear with excessive stacks of bullshit.
Knowing he’s losing, knowing that his chance at keeping the clubs in his pocket is waning, my father digs the cuff end in deeper. The edge isn’t sharp, but he’s pushing it deep enough to cause pain. I don’t mind, though, as I know I still have the advantage.
Miss.
His bow is drawn, and all it would take is a quick nod from me for him to let loose.
But I don’t want that. At least, not yet. I want Hector desperate.
“How long had you known?” I ask.
“Known?” He pushes the link harder, making it difficult to swallow. “I’d known that King had you hidden and out of my grasp for years. But I knew that the taste for club life would be too hard for you both to pass up. You’d turn up sooner or later.”
Stepping forward, gun drawn with a deadliness in his expression, Code is beyond pissed off. “Why did it matter where we were if you weren’t even in the country? You were leading the Mexican underground. You had no use for us. We weren’t important. Otherwise, you’d have contacted us earlier. Don’t lie, it’s not a good look on you.” Lowering his gun, Code fires. Shooting the ground by our father’s feet, he smiles. “Shit, I missed. I need to work on my aim it seems.”
I can’t see his face, but Hector stiffens. He didn’t expect that.
“You won’t have a second chance, child. Don’t fuck up next time or someone could get hurt.” With a swift move, Hector draws the gun from my side. Firing, he shoots Raptor between the eyes.
Without a second thought, Miss let’s his arrow fly. I feel the breeze of it as the flight nicks my cheek. The strength behind the shot is so forceful that Hector’s body flies back, taking me with him in the process. The cuff catches in my
neck, sticking in as I fall backward onto Hector’s now slumped and lifeless body.
I can’t move. The weight of his arm and the cuff in the position it is. If I shift, I have the ability to cause myself more damage.
“Shit!” I hear Miss yell as he runs over. “Fuck, man, I didn’t think that was gonna happen.” Inspecting my neck, turning his head slightly to peer around the edge of the cuff and where it’s stuck, he says, “Dude, I need the key to uncuff his ass first. Someone root through that dead ass and find the key.”
I open my mouth to speak, but the way the cuff sits it’s pressing on my Adam’s apple too tightly.
“Shut up, dumbass. Let us get the cuffs off before you try to speak,” Code snaps, bending down beside me. Looking above me, he fixes his eyes on our sperm donor. “Fuckin’ wicked shot. Damn near perfect,” he states loudly, knowing that Miss will hear him.
Miss returns with the key. “It was perfect,” he states. Reaching around my head, grabbing the dead hand, he releases it from the cuff. “Let’s not take it out yet. Stand up first so we can see the damage.”
Blinking to show I agree, Code helps me rise. As Miss holds the cuff in place, Code pulls out a chair, close enough that I can sit.
“Okay, man, let’s look at this.”
Calming my breathing, staying as still as I can, the cold steel shifts as Miss tries to find the best way to remove it. “Can someone grab that gauze?” Turning his head this way and that, I wish it didn’t hurt to speak or I’d joke that his ass isn’t my type. He’s fuckin’ close enough to kiss that his breath is moving my beard.
When he’s finally satisfied with how to take it out, he breathes, “Okay. Busta, I need to pull it back in one move. Take a deep breath then swallow. I’ll take it out as you swallow.”
With a blink, I respond that I got it.
“One, two...three.”
Feeling the hard metal as it pulls back, the final suck noise as it pops free is the last thing I feel before he places the gauze against the wound.
“Well, that went easier than I thought,” Miss states as he holds it tight to the wound. With it packed tight, wrapping it around my throat and tucking in the end, he steps back to inspect his handiwork. “That was a perfect shot.”
I try my voice. “Yep.” It hurts a bit, but it’s tolerable. Looking behind me at the deadened eyes of my father and King, I find it freeing. It means the end of an era for us. We’re released from their rule. The Alta Noche. The DEA. The power they held over us. We can start the way we want without their intervention.
As I sit there, contemplating the future, the door to the bedroom opens.
“Lucius!” Obi screams, running across the space. Tucking her under my arm, it feels perfect. Nothing is wrong in this moment, everything is right.
When her friend Jazzy shifts to help Death, giving him an arm to lean on and bringing him back to the couch, her eyes go to the dead body. Raptor, who has been my brother’s best friend for as long as I can remember, is the one man I didn’t think we’d lose today.
“Code?” I call out.
Clearing his throat, swallowing back the tears that threaten to take control, Code works to contain his distress. “Yeah. What do ya need, Lu?”
“We’ll help take care of him. He deserves it and more.” I may not have seen Raptor or Cap in years, but Rap was as close to me as a brother could be when we were young.
Crossing his friend’s arms and rising off the floor, Cap pulls in his emotions. “How do you figure we play this out?”
“I have an idea on that,” Miss says with a grin. “But I think we need more booze for this.”
When Miss has an idea, I know it’s a good one.
“Run it down,” I say before we all quiet and listen to his plan.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Busta
“So, you’re telling me that this—” he huffs, swinging his arms wide, “is because of a Homeland Security agent on the take, a dirty DEA team, and the Alta Noche cartel? And that you, the law-abiding outlaw biker clubs, cleaned up the city of L.A. for us? Out of the goodness of your civic duty to the law? Does that about sum it up?”
“Pretty much,” I tell him.
Deputy Director of the FBI in the Los Angeles District, John Curry, sits outside the warehouse in a makeshift command post, going over the details of the fight, the deaths, and the moments that led to this. My voice is still hoarse but giving my details—right down to the part where I’ve been an agent for years—under deep cover, I gave up everything I had on Johnathan Hart, Magnus King, and my father, Hector Alonso Guierra. I explained the location of my intel that is stored on databases, the details of the various logs regarding the flesh trade, contacts, and any other pertinent information that can help keep us out of the line of fire.
After we’d devised the plan and set out about enacting it, Sinner and Miss left with the body of Raptor and Soulless, as they didn’t need to be a part of this. Trigger and Cap stuck around with me, and the girls took Death to their repairman to fix up his leg. The less here to question, the less to fuck up the story. And with Trigger’s track record, and Cap’s credentials—which I quickly found out—we had verified accounts from real life, all-American heroes. It was airtight, substantiated information on the biggest cartel boss and who he was in league with.
“Well, we’ll have to verify it all. We’ll need to give agent King and his deceased team the benefit of the doubt until I can further confirm it all.” Sipping at his fifth coffee since sitting with us, agent Curry processes it all. “I don’t have anything to charge you with directly—yet. But I’m sure there’s something we’ll find in the future.” Standing up, pacing the space that the four of us and a few of his agents occupy, you’d swear that he’s hoping to find a reason to arrest us all. We are a motley bunch after all.
I didn’t know the extent of Trigger and Cap’s military involvement before, but now I have a newfound appreciation for their skills and years of service. They look the true part of regimented soldiers, while the FBI in their pristine dress shirts and vests seem more like pencil pushers than Federal police.
Trigger, I’ve found out, was Special Forces, and Cap was black ops—that’s all he’ll say.
It’s enough for me to know both are men you don’t mess with. Even as young as they are, the two of them command attention from the agents in our midst and their answers gather weight with the Special Agent Curry.
Receiving a call, Agent Curry answers. “Yeah...Of course, sir...No...No, I don’t believe there’s an immediate threat...Yes, I think it can be contained...Of course...Yes, but—” He pauses as he listens to the person on the other end, staring at me. “Yes, sir. Thank you.” With that, the other person hangs up. Pocketing his phone, he says to me, “Don’t go far.” Curry sets his newly emptied cup on the table and starts for the door of the tent. “We’ll be in touch—Agent Guierra.”
I still hate hearing that title. I’m thankful for it but despising it all the same.
With his two agents in tow, they leave us alone in the tent.
“That went better than I assumed it would. I thought for sure we’d have cuffs laid on us,” Cap states, uncapping a bottle of water.
I have to say that now, personally knowing a little more about what he’s done with his life, it’s put a few more pieces of the puzzle together.
“If it’s all right with you two,” Trigger pipes in, grabbing our attention, “I’d like to get back to your clubhouse and grab Radish. She has to be wondering where I am.”
I don’t know much about dogs and their love for their humans, but I can’t disagree that I have a girl waiting on me too. “Yeah. I’ll drive if you wanna wait a sec.”
“Yeah, I’ll wait outside then.” Turning to my brother, he holds out a hand. “Code, I hope we can work things out between the clubs.”
Taking the offered hand, they shake before he walks out, leaving us alone.
Sipping at his water, Code caps the bottle. “We good, Agent
Guierra?” he asks.
I scoff. “Yes, Staff Sergeant Guierra.”
“Best we don’t let on to the rest of the guys at the clubs that a DEA agent, military black op and Marine are in their midst. They may not understand.” Cap is serious, dead serious we shouldn’t tell others about his credentials. I have a different mind about it. If we want to make the clubs better, we need to give them the information to decide if the straight and narrow is how they wish to go. I won’t lie further.
But.
I understand his trepidation. Not everyone will agree. Not everyone will understand that we’re the government they’ve fought against.
“We’ll talk about it later,” I state calmly.
“Fine, we’ll talk, but don’t expect to have a club after. I think it will divide things pretty decisively. You’re the head of your club and I mine. We’ll work what’s best for us each.”
Uncapping the ninth bottle of water, I down it. The refreshing cool is perfect. My throat hurts from talking so much, and I’m grateful for the medic they had on hand, but I’m tired. I need to get out of here for a bit of rest. And sex. I want that woman wrapped around my cock.
Before leaving, I ask, “BBQ at my club tomorrow. Think you can make it?”
He smirks. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”
As I watch him walk out, I gather up my wallet and credentials and start for the door. Walking across the lot, staring at the carnage that’s brought out to the coroner’s vans, I’m glad that we survived. It sucks that Code has gone through everything he has, and that our dad is gone, but we both know it’s for the best.
Opening the door for the truck and hopping in, I find Trigger scrolling through his phone.
“Ready, man?” I ask, starting the truck.
He answers, not even taking his eyes from the screen. “Yeah.”
Chapter Forty
Oubliette
Jazzy, Death, and I left the warehouse before all the government stuff went down. Driving to Humble, the Four Horsemen’s repairman met us to fix up his leg. Bennett sucked back at least a bottle of Jack straight while they searched out the bullet. He passed out a few hours ago. Jazzy and I needed showers and a change of clothes, and more importantly, I need Lucius.
