His Dirty Girl

by Faye Byrd

  She takes a deep breath and flops onto the sofa with an exhale. “Are they in danger?”

  “They’re either being kept against their will, or they’ve gotten themselves mixed up in some really bad shit.” He takes a seat beside her, his tone soft. “But whatever it is, I’m going to get to the bottom of it. I promise you.”

  Unexpectedly, she throws her arms around him and starts bawling. It’s enough to make even me tear up, but I suck that shit back in because something sinister is going down around here. If those kids are hurt in any way, there will be hell to pay.

  Enzo pulls her away so he can look her in the eye. “I need to go if I’m going to get to the bottom of this.”

  She nods. “Thank you for looking after my boy.”

  He smiles. “No problem. I like the little shit.”

  We’re both silent as we head for the bike, each lost in our own thoughts. Enzo places the helmet on my head and fastens the strap beneath my chin. “I’m worried about Joshua. It’s obvious something awful has happened.”

  “Then let’s get back to the clubhouse so we can brainstorm.” I motion to the bike. “We’ve spent too much time here already.”

  He sighs and tosses his leg over the bike. I climb on behind him like a thousand other times. But this time is different. The lives of two young people are suddenly in our hands, and we have no fucking idea where to start.

  As we rumble down the short dirt road, a familiar dirt bike appears up on the bank, the kid on it waving to get my attention. I tap Enzo’s side. “Stop,” I yell over the noise of the Harley, furiously motioning to Joshua’s bike. “That’s not the right kid, but maybe he knows something.”

  Enzo brings the bike to a halt, which is easy since we weren’t going very fast to begin with, and drops the kickstand. He’s off the Harley before I can register his movements and snatching the kid off Joshua’s bike, pulling his small form up to eye level.

  “The fuck you doing with this bike?” The kid’s obviously about to shit himself, so I hurry over. “Where’s Joshua?”

  “Enzo,” I admonish, pulling on his arm, hoping he’ll set the boy on his feet. “He’s obviously here to help or he wouldn’t have shown his face at all. Don’t act like a fucking dick.”

  The kid’s all wide-eyed and terrified, and my sexy Lion grunts and drops him to his feet. “Fine.” He crosses his arms, lifting a pierced brow. “The lady saved your ass, so now tell us what we want to know.”

  “My name’s Quincy,” he says, digging his iPhone from his pocket. “And Joshua told me if he disappeared that Enzo Stone is the only person I should trust.” He unlocks and shoves his phone toward Enzo with a string of texts on the screen. “See?”

  I scoot up next to Enzo so I can read the screen:

  Joshua: Remember that shit I told u yesterday? I need to know u got my back

  Quincy: U know I do

  Joshua: If anything happens to me, trust no one but Enzo Stone

  Quincy: That murdering lion???

  Joshua: Yes. Trust me. He’s the only person who can help

  Quincy: What about Sheriff Dawson? Ain’t he dating ya ma?

  Joshua: Don’t be stupid. Enzo only. U promise?

  Quincy: Fine.

  Joshua: Meet me at the clearing tomorrow at noon.

  Quincy: Will do

  “So what happened in the clearing?” Enzo asks, glaring at Quincy.

  He shakes his head, his eyes falling to the ground. “He wasn’t there. Only his bike.”

  “You mean to tell me,” Enzo starts, gearing up for a rant, “that Joshua asked you t—”

  “Stop it.” I glare at Enzo—sometimes he can be so obtuse—before turning to Quincy. “What exactly was the shit he told you yesterday?” I ask, motioning to the texts.

  He huffs out a breath, rolling his eyes. “He was talking about a disfigured guy in a cabin in the woods. When I tried to get more out of him, he clammed up, so I kinda blew him off.”

  I lift a brow, looking to Enzo, while still speaking to Quincy. “Do you know where this cabin is?”

  “Meh.” He wavers his hand in a so-so manner. “He said it was one of those abandoned ones in the woods near the Smith River.” He kicks rocks across the dirt road. “He didn’t tell me he was gonna go missing or anything.”

  “You don’t think telling you to get the murdering Lion was some kind of clue?” Enzo snaps, balling his fist.

  “At least we have something now,” I say, giving him the stink eye as I pull a twenty from my pocket. It’s all I have on me. “Take this, Quincy. Thank you for hunting us down, and take care of Joshua’s bike. He’ll need it when he returns.”

  His eyes grow wide and he grabs the cash, shoving it into his pocket. “You really think you can find him?”

  I sigh, patting my Lion on the back. “If anyone can, it’s my murdering Lion.”

  THIRTEEN

  High Stakes

  Enzo

  “I need you both here tonight,” I say to Jameson, who’s still in Redding with Tank after the drug deal earlier this week. “We have some shit to take care of, and I don’t want to be short any men.”

  “We’ll be heading out in just a few,” he replies. “Should be there by midnight.”

  “See that you are.” I swipe off and toss my phone onto the meeting table, looking to Wyndall. “You find that map?”

  He passes it over. “Sure thing.”

  Mikey has his PC open at the opposite end. “I can do it all from my laptop.”

  “I know you can,” I say, sighing. “But I need to see it all laid out before me. We have no fucking idea what we’re walking into.”

  He shrugs, easy-going as hell. “We can do both.”

  I roll the map out on the table and use our phones to keep it from closing by itself. Running my finger over the area, I settle it on the blue line that represents the Smith River. Not being from around here, knowing where the cabins might be is a crap shoot for me, but my man Mikey grew up here.

  I tilt my head to my chair. “Bring that thing up here so I can see where we’re looking at.” I pull out the chair for him, and his eyes are wary as he takes the seat. “It’s cool.” I clap him on his shoulder. “Be president of the maps.”

  “You know where these cabins are?” Mad Dog asks, sliding in behind Mikey so he can see the screen.

  Mikey tilts his head. “I know where some cabins are, but they’re littered all down the river. It’s like finding a needle in a haystack.”

  I rub my jaw in agitation, my four-day scruff biting my palm. “Okay, so let’s start narrowing it down.” I start pacing as I think this shit through. “It’s not any cabins currently used as vacation spots or ones that are occupied year round. Can you single those out?”

  Mikey bobs his head. “It’ll take me a few, but I can definitely cross some off the list.”

  “Start there, then.” I glance to the clock on the wall and look to Wyndall. “Check in with Justice. I need to know when Randi’s shift is over and she’s on the way home.”

  “Sure thing.” He heads out of the room to grab the 2-way radio.

  “I keep thinking back to this disfigured part,” Mad Dog says, pulling out the VP chair and taking a seat. “It feels like it’s important.”

  “Right.” I allow my mind to take a trip in that direction, and the things it comes up with terrify me in some ways and enrage me in others, so I lock those fucking thoughts away. There’s just no goddamn way it’s possible. “Maybe once we narrow down the location, we can swipe some local gas station footage and go through it?”

  “Oh, hell yeah,” Mad Dog says, looking to Mikey. “Can we do that?”

  “Fuck yes.” I answer for Mikey. “You should know this. He’s never disappointed with his skills on that machine.”

  Mikey looks up, smiling at Mad Dog. “I tend to agree.”

  Mad Dog rubs his hands together. “It’d be awesome if we knew who we were up against.”

  “Don’t get too excited,” I warn, no
t wanting to get my fucking hopes up until we have more solid info. “It’s just a chance at the moment.”

  Wyndall steps into the room then, bobbing his head. “All’s well with a six-minute ETA.” He glances to the clock. “And that was two minutes ago.”

  Relief sweeps through me like a visceral fucking force. Not knowing what we’re dealing with here is scary as fuck. It all has to tie together somehow; there’s no fucking doubt about that. The question is how, and what do these poor kids have to do with it? How the fuck do they tie in to the shit that went down in Redding?

  But then it hits me. The man Randi shot was an associate of the Wolves and these kids are from Pacific Shores. It’s almost as if … a blast of ice moves through me, and I crumple into the nearest chair, shaking my head. The things I didn’t want to consider are now screaming too loudly to ignore.

  “Fuck!” I slam my fist onto the table. Again, again, and again. “It can’t fucking be.”

  “What is it, man?” Mad Dog asks. “What’s up.”

  “Jackson,” I snarl, lifting my eyes to my VP. “What if he somehow made it out of there?”

  “That’s not possible,” comes a voice from the door, and my eyes snap to hers. “That’s not fucking possible.” Her voice is stronger now as she approaches me. “Right, Enzo? There’s no way.”

  My eyes fall closed because you’d think fucking not, but this shit is playing out too much like the last time. Not much rhyme or reason to his actions, no coordination, but ending with a bang. And then there’s the whole disfiguration bullshit.

  “Babe,” I say softly, holding out my arm so she’ll come to me. “As much as I hate to say it, any-fucking-thing is possible.”

  “But you told me he’d die.” Her voice is high-pitched and a little frantic. “You said that the metal would melt down on top of him. How could he have escaped that?” I get up and go to her, but she shrugs me off. “How?”

  My usually calm, badass chick is having a meltdown, and I don’t know how to help her, so I do what has always worked in the past. I lift her up and toss her over my shoulder. She’s too surprised to react, and that fucking works for me.

  “You know what needs to be done,” I toss over my shoulder on the way through the door. “We’ll be back.” Those fuckers catcall at our backs, but they’re just jealous.

  I kick our bedroom door shut behind me and bring Randi down, sliding the fronts of our bodies together in one slow, torturous movement. I hold her as close as physically possible and look into her stormy eyes.

  “I need you to breathe, babe,” I say, referring to her upset over the whole Jackson possibility. “Let’s try to make sense of what we know.”

  “Fuck that,” she says, attacking my lips.

  It’s been a long few days, and my goddamn cock jumps to attention. She’s right. Fuck talk. I need to inhale her luscious taste and absorb her fucking soul. She’s the only goddamn thing in this world that matters, and I’ll use every weapon at my disposal to soothe her worries.

  Our tongues twirl like a tornado while my hands reach for her scrub top, yanking it over her head only to find a tank underneath. I grunt, frustrated, and she yanks my curls to admonish me. My lids pop open to find her staring at me with a naughty twinkle. I hold her gaze as I rip the motherfucking tank from her body.

  “Dammit,” she says, nipping my chin. “I liked that one.”

  “I’ll buy you another,” I reply, working the clasp on her bra. “Ten more if you’d like.”

  “I’d like to be fucked, Enzo.” She pushes her bare chest against me. “Make me forget that bastard might still be alive.”

  “Done.”

  I lift her ass and she jumps, wrapping her long legs around my waist. We fall onto our bed in a tangle of limbs, and clothes fade away like the setting sun. It’s just me and her, while the rest of the world outside our door is forgotten for a brief period of time.

  Naked and pliant beneath me, she slips into another dimension, one filled with all the pleasures I can give her. Teeth scrape skin and tongue soothes, while wandering hands explore and delight in every new plane. My mouth descends down, down, down, until I can taste her very essence. With perfectly practiced licks, laps, finger-thrusts, and tugs, I send her flying. She’s breathless and sated when I hover over her with my cock in hand. Taking advantage of her blissed state, I thrust inside, intent on reigniting the flames that have already consumed her once.

  My hips pivot, and I angle my cock so that our pelvises create friction on each stroke. Her moans travel through my skin and seep into my bones. She’s part of me now, and I’ll never let her go. She cries out after only a minute, tightening her fists in my waves. The tugging brings about unspeakable pleasure, but I hold back my orgasm, intent on delivering at least one more.

  My girl begged me to make her forget, and a Dirty Lion always keeps his word. She’s writhing beneath me, her arms anchored around my neck as I drive into her over and over. Her orgasm wanes, but I don’t let up, even when she no longer has control of her limbs. I thrust and pump and pivot, driving my cock in and out until she’s clamping again.

  “Enzo,” she chants in between bouts of “please.”

  I speed my movements, no longer able to keep a steady pace as my groin twists tighter and tighter. Her unending pleasure drains my resolve until I’m exploding inside her with a heady groan. But I don’t stop. I can’t. Because she needs me to see this through, to continue the climb until she goes limp beneath me.

  And then I still, pulling out my cock and settling beside her to catch my breath. I throw one thigh across her midsection and an arm across her chest as I place feather-light kisses along her neck and shoulder between heavy breaths.

  “I love you, Randi,” I murmur, licking along the pulse thundering in her neck. “Please don’t forget that.”

  “Why did you say that?” She stiffens, fisting my hair and pulling my head back so she can look into my eyes. “What are you planning in that thick head of yours?”

  “I’m not planning anything,” I reply, preparing myself for her response. “But you can’t be a part of this. When we go to this cabin.”

  She shoves me away from her and sits up, her perky tits catching me off guard. “The fuck I can’t.”

  I sit up beside her, shaking my head. “Usually, I’d welcome your back-up, but not this time.” My teeth clench. “If it is that bastard, I don’t want you anywhere near the scene.”

  “Fuck that.” She jumps off the bed, all her perky parts jiggling. It’s a fucking distraction I don’t need. “I’ll stay in the van with Mikey if necessary.”

  I get up and stand before her, my voice soft. “We’re not going until the morning, provided Mikey nails down a location, and you have work.” I lift her chin. “Please, Randi. This once, I need you safe at the hospital and away from the danger.”

  “What if something happens to you?” She tears up.

  “It won’t.” I wipe the corner of her eye as a lone tear slips out. “I promise I’ll make it back to you.”

  “If you don’t, the Crescent City Charter of the Dirty Lions won’t exist anymore,” she says, defiance flashing in her eyes. “Because I’ll slaughter them all.”

  I can’t help it. I lean down and smash my lips to hers in an affirmation of everything I feel for her. Her love and protective nature lift me up as a man. They don’t bring me down like some might think. She’s the embodiment of my dream woman, and I’m one lucky fucker to have found her.

  Just as my bare cock twitches to life between us, my cell rings from wherever my pants are, and I break the kiss with a sigh. Pressing our foreheads together, I whisper, “Thank you, babe. For … everything.”

  “I love you,” she responds, motioning to where my phone has stopped and started again. “Get that. I’m going to take a quick shower, and I’ll see you in the meeting room. I’m sure it’s them.”

  I smack her ass as she turns to leave, and she pauses, glancing over her shoulder. “Don’t start things you can�
��t finish.”

  “I’ll finish that shit, all right.” I smirk, eyeing her luscious ass. “It’ll just be later tonight.”

  “Promises, promises,” she breathes, and it’s so fucking hard to watch her naked ass walk away, but I do in favor of grabbing my pants.

  This is the third time my phone has played Bad to the Bone, which means it’s Mad Dog calling me from the other room. Instead of bothering to answer, I throw on my jeans and a fresh T-shirt before padding my way up the hall and into the meeting room, where the rest of the MC is still gathered.

  They all look up as soon as I enter the room. “Mikey’s located the cabin, and we have some obscure footage from a store about five miles away.”

  I stand stock still, a knot forming in my gut. “Is it Jackson?”

  “His face is too fucked up to tell,” Justice says, smashing his cigarette into the ashtray. “But Mikey was able to zero in on something else. Come take a look.”

  My approach is wary. I don’t want it to be him. It can’t be him. I’m the one who stopped Randi from blowing his fucking brains out, so if it is, it’s all on me. I’m the fucking idiot who put not only her but Joshua and Lois in danger as well.

  I take a deep breath and step behind Mikey. “Show me.”

  When the image first pops onto the screen, I have no fucking clue what I’m looking at. But the longer I stare, the more things start to take shape. It’s twisted and marred by scars, but between the lines, it’s obvious there was once a tattoo there. And that tattoo has a couple of obvious features.

  A distorted set of eyes.

  A long snout.

  Two pointy ears.

  “A wolf,” I whisper.

  Mikey clicks a few keys and the image transforms, removing all the scarring. “Definitely a wolf.”

  “Where is it located?”

  “On the underside of his forearm.”

  “What are you guys looking at?” Randi asks, breezing into the room.

  I look up. “Does Jackson have a wolf tattoo?”

  She stops, her face going pale. “Yes. They all do.”