Colt: Devil's Nightmare MC: Book 10
Page 7
“Here,” he finally says, handing me a green post-it note with a mobile phone number on it. “He didn’t give me his name, so it’s just a number.”
“That’s fine, I know his name,” I explain breathlessly, smiling, feeling like a crazy person for having this reaction in front of this pimply kid.
The velvet night covering the world outside as I power walk back to the room is no longer quiet, forbidding, or eerie. It’s alive with all the sounds and smells of rest and sleep, from street lights buzzing, cicadas chirping, owls hooting and cars driving by on their way home. The darkness caresses my skin like the warm waters of a sun-warmed pool on a summer evening.
But Colt’s phone just rings and rings and not even his voicemail comes on, so I could at least know that that pimply nerd receptionist got the number right.
I call five times before I realize that means he’s gonna have five missed calls from me and think I’m crazy. I probably will be soon, but he doesn’t need to know that yet.
The last bus to Vegas leaves at five past midnight, and there’s no way I’ll catch it since it’s ten to midnight now.
He’ll call back. And if he doesn’t, I’ll at least get another good night’s rest in the safety of this anonymous motel room. It’s been a while since I slept without keeping one eye open for danger.
9
Colt
The “word” Blaze heard that this job we’re on won’t take much work or effort on our part started trickling down from everyone I spoke to. By the time the scorching sun finally set over the distant mountains that was all everyone was talking about. No one had a clue how that’d be achieved, though.
I spent the rest of the day moving from spot to spot, the shade outside, the stifling heat in my small room, and the loudness of the few larger rooms in the bunker that act as a sort of lounge. There’s no air-conditioning here and while the thick concrete walls keep the worst of the heat at bay, it’s still far from cool and comfortable indoors.
“Stop complaining about the heat already,” Blaze snaps at me. “You sound like a little bitch.”
We’re standing by the front door, smoking, and I just got done commenting on how the sun may be gone, but the heat isn’t. A meeting is to take place soon and brothers are huddled around in groups.
“Oh, shut the fuck up,” I answer and check my phone for at least the thousandth time since I called the motel this morning. Still no missed calls notification.
“She’ll call,” Blaze says. “And if she doesn’t, she’s Ace’s woman’s friend, isn’t she? You’ll see her again.”
“Yeah, but that means I’ll have to wait for all that to happen. And I want her now,” I purposefully say it in a whiny voice, and it gets me the expected scoff from Blaze.
“I know you really mean that,” he says.
“Yeah, I really do.”
“Too bad you gave your word as a man, not a little bitch,” Blaze counters and I can’t argue with that either.
“All right, gather round,” Rook’s booming voice echoes from the cavernous room that dominates the bunker just by one the main entrance.
“Is it time?” Ink asks. He’s standing a few yards from us, talking to a couple of guys I don’t recognize.
“It’s time,” Blaze confirms and the message quickly travels to even the most remote of groups enjoying the fresh and cool evening breeze.
Knots start forming in my stomach and my blood seems to be flowing faster and hotter through my body, carrying an acid-like tang. It’s on. We’re about to go into action and get this job done.
Inside, Cross and Rook are standing in the center of the room and we file in, forming a half-circle around them. There’s about one hundred of us here. The Roadside Sinners MC has around 180 members. That math doesn’t sound right to me, but I trust that Cross knows what he’s doing. He hasn’t led us astray yet.
He clears his throat and silence falls.
“Here’s how it’s going down,” he says, his voice echoing off the walls. “We’re teaming up with Road Knights MC for the rest of the job.”
A few of the brothers exchange questioning glances, but no one grumbles or otherwise makes it know that they don’t agree with this turn of events. The level of absolute loyalty that Cross inspires among the Devils never ceases to amaze me, even after three years of riding with them.
“We’ve cut off the snake’s head, the snitch is gone, and now we just gotta tie up the loose ends,” Cross continues. “As the Knights have suffered great injustices at the hands of the Sinners, it is only fitting that they take part in what needs to happen next,” he motions for someone to come forward. It’s the two guys who were talking to Ink earlier. One of them’s younger, about Ace’s age, and the other wiry and much older, though the family resemblance is there.
“This is the president of Road Knights MC,” Cross says, pointing at the old guy. “And this is the vice-president, Ink’s brother. We’re gonna go at the Sinners together, but they’re taking the lead. You’ll each be assigned a role, and I expect you all to be ready to ride by midnight tonight. As I know you will be. None of you have let me down in the past, and I know you won’t let me down now.”
Voices of assent and approval are raised, and I join them. Cross’ speech was short and to the point, as it always is. He’s not a man of words, but of action. And my blood is pure acid now. Midnight can’t come soon enough. I’m gonna prove to Cross that his trust in me is not misplaced.
By midnight I’m lying in the tall, dry grass of the field surrounding the Sinner’s compound. Flashes of the night I almost died saving Brenda are trying to overpower my mind, but I’m struggling to keep them out. I can literally feel Blaze’s indignation of the two of us being given this menial task of staking out the back wall of the compound and making sure none of the Sinners approach from this side. Or cops for that matter, since we can’t be sure that the president and the men who died with him were the only snitches talking to the feds in that club.
Pointing out the fact that ten more of our brothers have this exact same task tonight didn’t put him in a better mood. We’re lying near the only door in the back wall. There’s a narrow path leading from the door straight across the field. It’s about wide enough for a big man on a big chopper to ride comfortably, and it comes out ends along a country road that connects to a highway. Me and Blaze and hidden in the tall grass on either side of it nearest the door, just far enough to be out of sight, but close enough to jump out and get rid of anyone trying to exit or enter through that door.
The rest of the brothers are scattered in the grass surrounding the wall. Our orders are to stay close to give each other backup should the need arise. As far as I know, no one is watching the entrance to this path from the country road. It’s obviously an important target, so I don’t know what Blaze is so pissed off about.
So far, no cry’s been raised and there has not been any kind of heightened police presence that we’ve been able to detect. The whole time that Ace was inside, getting cozy with the Sinners, we’ve been out here following around any and everyone that their president came in contact with. We also kept a real close eye on the cops.
It’s as quiet as the grave back here, not even the hissing of the grass can be heard since the wind has died down and the air isn’t moving. I can smell the dried-up earth, the lone flower among these dried up weeds and I hope to hell there aren’t too many rattlesnakes around here. But there probably are.
Up high in the sky, I can hear a rumbling like thunder, but the sky is a uniform dark blue, stars so bright they’re blinding. Helicopter? But they don’t go that high, I’d be able to see the lights. Thunder? I sincerely doubt it’s rained here in the last decade or two. A plane? That’s most likely.
The Knights are setting bombs.
It made me nauseous hearing that plan. I hate bombs. The least you can do before you kill someone is to look them in the eye. I wanted to ask if they plan on killing all the club whores along with the guys, but Blaze was onto
me and gave me the death stare, which told me then and there that our long friendship would be over for good if I stuck my neck out on this. So I didn’t.
No harming women and children. That’s always been a rule in our club and as far as I know Cross has always enforced it. He wouldn’t make us a part of something that goes against it now. Right? I sure as fuck hope so.
The trouble with simple stakeouts like this one is that they’re boring as fuck and your mind wanders. Most of my jobs for the club so far have been stakeouts just like this, so I’ve gotten used to the boredom and learned how to keep it at bay. All my mental focus tricks, like keeping my mind clear of everything but the door I’m supposed to be watching, are failing me tonight.
The fact that my phone keeps buzzing with the motel’s number isn’t helping. It keeps lighting up in my pocket, and I want to pick up so bad I can taste it. The worst part is, I can’t turn off the phone because it’s the only way the others will be able to reach us as I’m the designated message relayer for our group. I don’t whether to call that an honor or punishment right now.
The hissing of the grass grows louder and louder, and there’s no accompanying wind to explain it. The sound is coming from the far end of the field, rolling towards us like a wave, and my first thought is that a bad storm is approaching. But it hardly ever rains here and there’s no wind. Yet the hissing keeps coming.
I crawl to the path and stick my head out from the grass to see what’s happening. Blaze is giving me a ‘what the fuck’ kind of look, but I ignore him. There’s no wind and besides, the hissing of the grass isn’t uniform like it would be if the wind was causing it.
Then I see them.
Black shapes, darker than the night, and therefore clearly visible. A whole sea of them, at least fifty. Ours? Theirs?
They all look the same. They’re all dressed the same. And in my experience, that can mean only one thing. Cops.
I pull out my phone and call Rook.
“We got company back here,” I whisper. “It might be cops. What do we do?”
I can hear Rook catch his breath. “Stay put. Wait for orders.”
I relay the message to Blaze, he passes it along to the guys behind him and I do the same on my side of the road. The hand gestures we use to communicate with each other on jobs are elaborate and practically a language of their own. It took me ages to learn the signs, and I’m still not sure I know them all.
My heart’s thumping hard and blood’s whooshing through my veins. The hissing of the grass it’s so loud it sounds like a herd of elephants is approaching.
Abort. Don’t be seen.
I relay the message and start crawling backward into deeper grass. I’m fairly confident any sound we’re making as we retreat is masked by the approaching cops. But I still don’t dare take a full breath until we’re in the nearly full darkness by the corner of the wall.
I stand up, confident none of those approaching can see me in the complete darkness. At least, I can no longer see them. I hope Blaze and the brothers on his side of the part reached safety too.
Then a strong gust of wind plasters my hair back against my scalp a split second before the sky explodes like the sun rose straight up from the ground yards from where I’m standing.
I hear nothing as I hit the ground again, my heart thumping in my throat and my vision seared away by the brightness of the explosion.
What the fuck happened?
Are Rook’s orders still standing?
I call him, but the ringing in my ears is louder than the ringing of the dial tone. So I text instead, asking what the orders are now. And spent a heart-thumping eternity during which screams and yells start breaking through the bells in my ears.
The dark shapes have reacted to the blast by going down too, and they’re now starting to stand up slowly, most of them staying crouched and looking around like a group of hens with no leader.
The screen of my phone finally lights up. Abort. Don’t return to HQ yet. I’ll contact you.
I forward the text to Blaze, tell the brothers with me, then take off at a run into the darkness, away from the path that’s now covered with cops and away from the walls. Seriously, this fucking place and me have some strange symbiotic energy going on. Three times I’ve been here with a task, and three times I’ve been exactly where I needed to be to prevent something no one foresaw. Except I doubt anyone foresaw any of what happened tonight, especially not that fucking explosion. I hope all my brothers are all right. I hope they all get out all right.
But I’m not exactly upset this job got so spectacularly railroaded.
I’ve been ordered away from HQ, so there’s only one place for me to go. The Lucky Star Motel and Brenda. I just hope my bike’s where I left it because otherwise, it’ll be one hell of a walk.
10
Brenda
In my dream, someone was calling my name softly, gently, like a heavenly creature whispering. But it was accompanied by loud tapping on the glass and that woke me before I could answer the call, before I could find out what wonders lay in store for the rest of that sweet, soft dream calling to me.
A man is standing by the window, a darker shape against the faintly lit parking lot, and now my heart is racing, and my breathing is fast and frenzied. Instead of a sweet dream, I woke up into a nightmare.
“It’s me, Colt,” the man says. “Open the door.”
I’m still breathing hard as I climb over the bed to do as he asks, getting so hopelessly tangled in the bedsheets I almost slam into the door head first in my haste to open it. I’m in a hurry to escape the nightmare that was just a couple of seconds ago and enter the living dream. The one I thought was gone from me forever.
Cold night air envelops me whole, from my overheated face to my bare feet. It’s only then that I realize I didn’t wear anything to bed. The fire in his eyes is blazing, engulfing all of me, eating at the night’s coldness, chasing it away, and that’s my second clue. He’s grinning like all his dreams about this reunion and more just came true.
But on the wings of that realization comes the knowledge that if I give myself to him now, he’ll be gone again tomorrow morning. It’s a tried and tested knowledge on my part. More like a fact. And this time, he’ll be gone for good.
“Come in,” I say in my best off-putting voice, which somehow still sounds seductive and inviting. I don’t know what it is about this guy, but him wanting me this obviously, this completely, is so real, so pure, so different from the way any other guy in my life ever wanted me, that I want the same thing. With everything I am. Damn tomorrow. Right now is all there is, all that matters.
I step backward so he can enter, and he does, slamming the door shut without taking his eyes off me.
“Did you miss me this much?” he asks cockily as he advances.
I’m frozen to the spot by the lust and desire in his eyes, both so pure and burning hot, both just for me. A part of me is certain he’s never looked at any other woman like this, while another part is screaming at me to stop being such an idiot. It’s just lust.
“I thought you weren’t coming back, actually,” I say.
“What? And miss out on this?” His gaze takes in all of me, somehow growing even more blazing hot than it already was.
He’s earned it and I deserve it. Deserve to feel good. Deserve to bathe in the fires of passion his eyes promise, even if it’s just for one night. It’s been so long since I was treated well, since I’ve done exactly what I wanted and only what felt good.
“Come and take it then,” I say, turning up the heat up and up.
He wastes no time before closing the rest of the distance between us and pulling me into a kiss, one hand at the back of my neck, the other on the small of my back, but quickly traveling down to my ass as our lips meet and our tongues find each other in a shower of sparks so bright and so sweet I couldn’t have dreamed them any better. It’s like Christmas and Fourth of July come early, and my birthday and every other day when feeling good and
having fun is the priority.
His lips travel down my neck, tickling and pinching, sending hard and strong flashes of desire all through my body, and especially my clit. I’ve been without a man for so long, my whole body is shaking in anticipation, in need. When his lips find my nipple, I moan so loud it’s almost a scream.
He grins up at me and does it again, before straightening up and guiding me to the bed. The tangled up sheets are still warm from my body’s heat and they’re about to get even hotter.
He takes off his jacket, letting it slide down his back and fall with a thud to the floor. His boots follow. And as much as I want to help him rip his clothes off, so I can have him inside me, I lean back on my elbows to enjoy the show. He shakes his head and grins like he knows exactly what I’m thinking. And gives me the show I’m expecting.
I left the bathroom light on and the door cracked so I wouldn’t have to sleep in total darkness, and now his body is bathed in amber light as it emerges. His chest and arms are as developed as I knew they would be from touch. And his abs are a shapely six-pack I felt under my fingers as I held onto his waist on the bike ride over here.
He unbuckles his belt slowly, and I can’t help sighing in anticipation, which is not lost on him. He peels off his jeans and boxers together, too fast to be sensual, but when he straightens back up, the sight of his cock more than makes up for lack of grace. It’s thick and just long enough and not even half hard. My heart’s racing, each beat carrying a sweet chime of anticipation now. I bite my lower lip reflexively, picturing, no, more like already feeling how good he’s gonna feel inside me. No part of my reaction is lost on him as he chuckles and advances on me.
He lays his hands on my bent knees and pries them apart. I lay back, arching my back, ready to take his weight on top of me, his thick cock inside me.
So it’s a shock when his tongue meets my clit instead. A very welcome shock, the kind I’ve never gotten before. And it just keeps getting better and better as his tongue, mouth and even teeth get to work on my pussy.