Wrecked (Devil's Horsemen MC Book 1)

by Brook Wilder

  Zack’s voice broke through my thoughts, and I gripped the steering wheel, forcing myself back to the present.

  “I really don’t know. We can’t go in guns blazing.”

  Zack chuckled.

  “You know I have my own gun, right?”

  I looked over at him.

  “Why didn’t you use yours then?”

  He winked at me.

  “I enjoyed holding yours far better.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Are you serious? I bet you don’t even have a permit for yours.”

  “Does that mean you will arrest me again, Syd?”

  “Shut up,” I growled, focusing on the road. We didn’t have time to be flirting with each other. “What do you think the plan should be?”

  He blew out a breath.

  “I think we should scope it out. If it is Hayley, then we will have to improvise. I don’t want you to get caught in a crossfire.”

  I noted he didn’t speak about himself. The sudden thought of Zack covered in blood made me sick to my stomach. I didn’t want to be leading him to his death either. Though I had thought about torturing him more than once during our time apart, I didn’t truly want to do him harm. I would be stupid to think I didn’t care about him. Zack had taken everything from me; my first kiss, my first sexual experience, my first love. There was always going to be a part of me that held some affection for him.

  Oh, how I hated it!

  “We will just see what we find then,” I finally said, pressing my foot to the gas, urging the jeep on.

  Neither of us were getting hurt today.

  Chapter Ten

  Zack

  I tried to ignore the smell of Sydney’s perfume as we lay next to each other in the dirt, watching the action below. Despite what I should be feeling, I was enjoying every moment with her. She was completely different to me, like a completely new woman, but there were moments that I saw the old Sydney in her. Like right then, as she nibbled on her bottom lip as she looked through the binoculars. There were many times during the time we had been together that she had done that, especially when she was nervous.

  Hell, I was nervous. How she did this on a regular basis was beyond me.

  “I see two men,” she said softly, her voice barely audible over the wind. “I don’t recognize them.”

  “Let me see,” I said, reaching for the binoculars.

  She handed them over without a word, and I slid them over my eyes, frowning as I recognized one of the men. Shit. It was El Pajaro. That was not good. El Pajaro was one of the chief human traffickers, at the top of the DHMC’s hit list if we ever got a shot at him. I imagined he would be number one for the police department as well. The man was legendary in Cibolo and beyond, and rumor was that he had killed over one hundred men in his lifetime, though it was unknown how many of his human bargains had died as a result of being picked up by his men.

  If he was taken down, the trafficking business would take a major blow.

  “It’s El Pajaro,” I whispered, handing back the binoculars.

  “The El Pajaro?” she hissed back. “Are you sure?”

  I nodded, feeling the adrenaline start to build in my bones. Fighting El Pajaro was not going to be easy, as he was always accompanied by five armed guards.

  “Crap,” she said with a sigh. “If he has Hayley...”

  Sydney’s words died in her throat, and I swallowed hard, understanding what she couldn’t say. Hayley could be long gone, traded multiple times by now. Her name, her connections, would mean nothing to her captors after she had left Pajaro’s hands.

  That was, unless he was planning on using her as leverage against Grant. Grant was going to be pissed to know that his daughter might be with this psycho.

  “What’s the plan?” I asked softly, my eyes on the man standing near the SUV.

  The windows were dark, keeping us from seeing the cargo inside, and it appeared they were waiting on something.

  Or someone.

  “I don’t know,” Sydney said with a frown. “I don’t want to engage unless we are sure he has her. As much as I would like to haul him in, I don’t have the manpower.”

  I didn’t take offense. Knowing Sydney, she would want this one done by the book, in case El Pajaro attempted to use a loophole to get out.

  But if he had Hayley, I wasn’t going to show him any mercy . I would shoot him where he stood and walk away with a grin on my face. This wasn’t about taking out the cartel mercenary, this was about getting back Travis’s daughter.

  The sound of another vehicle approaching the site drew my eye, and I watched as the truck came into the picture, two men jumping out of the cab and carefully approaching the SUV.

  “Here we go,” Sydney muttered, pulling her gun.

  I did the same, the weight of the butt comforting in my palm. The Glock had gotten me out of more than one skirmish in my adult life, and I rarely travelled without it.

  Well, except the other day in the bar. I was glad that I hadn’t had it on my person, or Sydney would likely have confiscated it.

  We watched as the figures approached each other, their conversation in Spanish as they spoke back and forth about something. Were they bargaining for Hayley? My finger hovered over the trigger as Pajaro motioned at the SUV, his men walking back to open the door to the back.

  This was it.

  But instead of a human being, the men removed a large box from the back, lugging it toward the men with some difficulty.

  “I bet it’s drugs,” Sydney said softly. “The hot package was drugs, not a person.”

  Relief flooded my veins. They didn’t have Hayley. This was not a trade.

  “Likely heroin.”

  That was the cartel’s drug of choice, because of the money it brought in.

  “We were so close,” Sydney responded, lowering her gun. “I thought this was it, I really did.”

  “Minor setback,” I said, looking at her. “Let’s go before we are spotted.”

  There was no reason to rile up this exchange today.

  She nodded and stood, brushing off her clothing. I rose to do the same, but before I could a shout went up and the rock next to Sydney exploded.

  “Get down!” I yelled at her, grabbing her hand as I fired back.

  She dropped next to me and joined in on the gunfire, her gun firing in rapid succession to mine. I had to get us out of here. We wouldn’t have enough ammo to take on what was waiting down there for us.

  “Get ready to run,” I shouted over the gunfire, firing at one of the Muertos that was hiding out beside the SUV.

  He yelped and went down, which opened up a very short window.

  “Run!”

  Sydney didn’t hesitate as I covered her, firing as we backed toward the jeep. I heard her gun the engine, and I turned, covering the distance left to the jeep, and jumped in.

  “Go!”

  She pressed the gas to the floor, and we shot off, the sound of the gunfire fading in the distance as we flew over the desert. I set my gun on my lap and blew out a breath, my heart pounding in my ears. That had been close. We had been damned lucky not to be killed.

  “Zack?”

  I turned toward her seeing her pale face.

  “Syd?”

  “I think I’ve been shot.”

  The floor fell out underneath me as I saw the blood spreading along her rib cage, her hand covering the wound.

  “Shit. Pull over.”

  She did so, and I hopped out, hurrying to the driver side, a thousand thoughts running through my mind. I couldn’t lose her now. There were so many damn things I needed to clear with her, so many things she needed to know. Tears were in her eyes as I reached her, sliding my hands under her legs to lift her up.

  “I-I think it’s a graze. Oh God, it burns.”

  “I got you,” I said, swallowing my emotion. “I’m going to put you in the passenger seat, so I can drive. Alright?”

  She nodded, and I did just that, pulling off my
shirt to hand to her.

  “Put this on the wound and hold pressure.”

  She took the shirt and did as I instructed, the sight of the amount of blood on her causing me to freak out internally. She was not going to die today.

  Hopping in the driver side, I tore off down the road.

  ***

  It didn’t take us long to reach my place, and I pulled the jeep in behind my truck, cutting the engine before retrieving Sydney from the passenger side. She didn’t protest as I lifted her into my arms. I could feel the stickiness of her blood on my chest as I walked to the door. I knew I should have taken her to the hospital, but there would have been too many questions that I was certain she didn’t want to answer right now. If it was just a graze, I could patch her up.

  Kicking open the back door and not caring as the door frame splintered, I strode to the bedroom, depositing her carefully on my bed.

  “Is this your place?” she whispered as I smoothed the hair from her face.

  “It is,” I said, keeping my cool. “Though I would like to have you in my bed for a far different reason.”

  Her eyes narrowed, and I knew that she wasn’t focusing on her wound right now but was thinking about how to kill me.

  “I’ll be back. Don’t move.”

  I strode to the bathroom, grabbing the supplies I kept under the sink. Dammit, why did Syd have to get hurt? My hands were shaking at the thought of her dying in that bedroom, though I knew she wouldn’t. What if it had been worse?

  I looked up and saw the blood smeared across my chest, the sight making me ill. That was Syd’s blood.

  “Shit,” I swore, grabbing a few towels before heading back to the bedroom.

  Sydney hadn’t moved from the spot.

  “I’ll ask you one time. Do you want to go to the hospital?”

  She looked at me, her eyes glazed with pain.

  “N-no.”

  I nodded.

  “Let’s get that shirt off you, then.”

  I removed my shirt from the spot she was holding, easing hers up over her bra and pulling it from her body, wincing as I looked at the angry red welt on her right side. While it had bled like the devil, there was no signs that the bullet had actually penetrated the skin.

  “It’s just a graze,” I forced myself to say, my tongue thick in my mouth. “It will hurt like hell for a few days, but I don’t think you need stitches.”

  “Thank God,” she whispered, looking up at the ceiling. “I’m a wimp when it comes to stitches.”

  I grabbed the gauze and placed some alcohol on it.

  “This is going to hurt like hell, Syd, and I’m sorry.”

  She didn’t say anything as I pressed the gauze to the wound, hearing her hiss in return. To her credit, she stayed perfectly still.

  “Where else have you had stitches?”

  “Busted my head open on the course during training,” she answered, rubbing a hand over her face. “A dozen stitches along my hairline. It hurt like hell, but I didn’t cry.”

  Hell, she was tough. This was not the young girl I had been so infatuated with all those years ago. There had been an innocence to Sydney that had kept me coming back for more, and I had stolen that innocence, hoping that some part of her would cleanse me of my bad upbringing.

  Clearing my throat, I removed the gauze and applied a fresh one, using the medical tape to tape it in place.

  “Do you want some painkillers?”

  She shook her head, wincing as she rose to a seated position.

  “Not right now. Thanks.”

  I looked at the now doctored side, the way her porcelain skin stood out in sharp contrast to the blood that covered it. She looked like she had been in a war, and it was all my damn fault.

  “Syd.”

  She looked at me.

  “What?”

  It was now the perfect time to tell her how damn sorry I was. About everything.

  “I’m an asshole.”

  The side of her mouth lifted.

  “I know.”

  I chuckled, running a hand over my hair.

  “I mean it. What I did to you… it was all wrong and I can’t apologize for what happened.”

  There were no words, no amount of groveling that would fix what I had done to her, to the one person who had believed in me and seen something that everyone else hadn’t. She had been the best part of me, and I had pushed her away.

  Her grin faded, and I saw the emotions churning in her eyes.

  “I’m not that girl anymore, Zack,” she said softly. “And I haven’t been for a long, long time.”

  “I know, and it’s my damn fault,” I interrupted, taking her hands in mine.

  A jolt of electricity shot through me, but I ignored it. I didn’t know what this was about, whether it was driven purely by the fact that Syd could have died today or because it was all finally coming to a head, but I had to tell her.

  “Dammit, Syd, I took you virginity.”

  She flushed.

  “I gave it to you, Zack. There’s a difference. I… well, I was in love with you.”

  Hell, I knew that. She had told me that night, making what we did all the more special. I had never thought someone could love me, but she had, freely and willingly, without any thought to the bastard that I truly was.

  “But,” she continued, pulling her hands from my grasp and reaching for her shirt, “the club meant more to you, and you got what you wanted, didn’t you?”

  “Syd…” I started, not sure what more to say.

  She was right, and it sounded fucking horrible coming out of her mouth. I had wanted badly to be part of the DHMC and had told her numerous times about it.

  I just hadn’t expected it to go down like it had.

  She shrugged on her shirt, and I frowned as I saw the blood that raced across it.

  “Let me give you one of mine,” I offered pushing away from the bed. “You look like you lost a bad fight.”

  “It’s nothing,” she stated as I crossed the room and pulled one of my t-shirts from the drawer.

  I turned back to her, my cock twitching as I looked at her sitting in my bed. How many times had I wanted to see that? How many times had I dreamed about her under me as I buried my cock in her warmth?

  “What?”

  I shook my head and walked back to her, handing her the shirt.

  “Put it on. I’ll take you home.”

  She eased the shirt on and pulled her hair out of the collar, letting it fall around her shoulders.

  “This brings back memories.”

  I grinned.

  “You wore my clothes more than I wore them.”

  A soft smile came to her lips as she fingered the hem of the shirt.

  “Your clothes were always so comfortable.”

  I remembered; oh, how I remembered. I would pick her up down the road, so her parents wouldn’t see the trash she was hanging around with, and we would go riding. Many, many times I would coax her into swimming in the lake, desperate to get my hands on her body.

  She would shyly agree, but not before I gave her my shirt.

  As if that had been enough to hide her body from my eyes.

  And her wearing that shirt now… it brought back those feelings, the ones I had desperately tried to fight right up until that fateful night with the DHMC.

  I took a step toward her, and she scrambled off the bed, wincing as she grabbed her side.

  “I’m going to go home and clean up. Meet you back at the clubhouse?”

  I hesitated.

  “You need to go home and rest. This can wait.”

  “No, it can’t,” she fired back, her eyes blazing. “I’m fine. I will be fine, Zack. I’ll meet you in two hours.”

  I didn’t reply, and she left the bedroom, the sound of her footsteps echoing through my house, before her jeep started up and I knew she was gone. Hell. She wasn’t going to listen to me.

  I sat down on the bed, picking the remnants of my doctoring off the floor. I h
ad patched myself up more than I cared to admit but patching up Sydney had been an entirely different feeling. That, and she clearly didn’t want me to coddle her.

  Or protect her.