Rough and Ready

by Cathleen Ross

  “I’ll get my jacket.” He strode into the spare bedroom.

  She knew that was code for arming himself. At least he wasn’t stupid. She raced to her bedroom to change into jeans and a top. There was no way that she was letting Daddy get Hugo to himself. When she returned, her father blocked her way.

  “You’re not coming, Alice,” Glass said.

  “Hugo is a decorated veteran. I don’t want him going to the clubhouse,” she said.

  “This is men’s business. I will fix this,” Glass said, handing her his empty bottle. She smashed it back down on the coffee table.

  “Alice, stay out of this,” Hugo said. “I need to eyeball the men. It’s time I worked out who and what I’m protecting you from. If Mad Dog’s a danger to you, I want to deal with him on his own turf with his president there.”

  “Couldn’t have said it better myself.” Glass nodded.

  She rounded on Hugo, furious at him taking her father’s side. How could he do that to her after what they’d shared? “This is my business, too. Mad Dog came at me. I’m going to make it clear to him that I am not interested.”

  “Sounds like you already did that and it didn’t work,” he said.

  “Go to bed, Alice,” Glass said. “Hugo works for me, and he does what I need him to do.” He strode to the door with Hugo behind him, his duffel bag over his shoulder, heavy with weapons.

  Glass opened the door, and she followed them before Hugo turned and put his hands on her shoulders. She stumbled from the weight of him. “Lock the door behind me and don’t leave the apartment,” he said.

  “You fucking lump of obedient lead. Why won’t you listen to me?” she cried out in frustration. “I can look after my own shit.”

  “Her mother raised her to be a lady,” Glass said to Hugo.

  Hugo’s gaze swept over her, and she could tell he was trying not to smile. “She must have taken after you then, Glass.” He gently propelled her back, shut the door in her face, and locked it on her.

  By the time she’d realized he’d used her keys to lock her inside her own apartment, and she’d located her second set of keys, Hugo and her father were gone.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Hugo jumped into his truck and followed Glass’s black Harley down to the Lower Ninth precinct. Dirt poor, the place had been hit so badly by Hurricane Katrina, there were still empty blocks where houses had been. While much of New Orleans had recovered, the lack of investment showed in the bumpy, unrepaired roads and the tiny, lopsided, ramshackle houses that hadn’t washed away. Infrastructure had a hard time returning to the least vibrant area of New Orleans.

  Hugo drove down a long driveway with no street lighting, stopping at a fortified gate. A barbed wire fence with cameras attached to metal posts at various intervals surrounded the complex. The gate slid open, as silent as a serpent. Once inside, he drove on for a quarter of a mile until coming upon the Banderos clubhouse. The clubhouse was brand spanking new. It was built of solid concrete on seven-foot risers, with slit-like windows in the front that reminded Hugo of a modern castle. He followed Glass and drove around the back, which looked onto a small canal in the distance. There were no close neighbors, and fields surrounded the clubhouse. Glass had built an impenetrable fortress.

  Hugo slipped another knife into the holster under his trouser leg on his calf before climbing out of his truck. He hoisted his duffel bag onto his shoulder and strode over to join Glass. Might as well show the president what he was capable of.

  “What’s in the bag?” Glass asked.

  “Weapons.”

  “Open it,” Glass ordered.

  Hugo put his duffel bag on the ground, unzipped and opened it.

  “Holy fuckin’ hell. You always carry that around? What are you, the fucking Terminator?”

  “Don’t feel comfortable without it.”

  “You’ve got a semi-automatic in there.”

  Hugo smirked. “Got one on my hip, too.”

  Glass moved some of the weapons away to look underneath. “What the fuck are you planning to do with a crossbow?”

  “It’s quiet. It can shoot up to five hundred yards, kills the victim silently if you hit the throat.”

  “You that accurate?” Glass asked.

  “Want to stand with an apple on your head?”

  “Funny guy. What else can you do?”

  Hugo knew Glass was sizing him up. He needed him to take the bait. “My specialty is explosives.”

  “That right?”

  “Bombs. You name it, I can make it. I can also disarm it.”

  “You’re a fucking dangerous bastard.”

  “I get the job I’m assigned to done.” Blood, guts, and killing seemed normal to him, but he needed it to seem aberrant now he was home.

  “Yeah, I got that. You think you can do that here?” Glass asked.

  “I can protect Alice.”

  “She’s a great girl like her mother. Good with sewing up the men if she’s of a mind to be helpful. Keeps the brothers out of hospital and the cops off our backs.” Glass looked down at the duffel bag on the ground. “Put this shit in your truck. You’ll make the men uneasy. And lose the gun, too.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Glass’s phone rang, and he answered it.

  Hugo could hear Alice’s voice crying out at her father.

  “I order you to stay at home. The fucker deserves to die. He broke the code. No one touches my women without permission.”

  So death was on the table. The old familiar thrill zinged up his spine. Fuck. He stamped it down. This was not a government-sanctioned hit. He had to draw the line now he was home, or he had no future in his own beloved country.

  It was dark at the back of the clubhouse, and in the distance, the sound of water lapped at the edge of the small canal. He’d parked his truck next to Glass’s bike. Although the club had surveillance cameras, there was only so much an infrared camera could catch. He dropped his still-open duffel bag onto the ground between his truck and Glass’s bike. With deft precision, he bent and slapped on the magnetic tracker, complete with audio capabilities, under the metal wheel rim, while Glass stood nearby arguing with Alice.

  He’d contact Troy deLance tonight to tell him the device was in place.

  Glass put his cell phone away and turned to him. “Alice is going crazy. Said she’s coming here straight away to fix her own problems.”

  He shrugged. “I saw what went down at the market. She had a drug-addled biker about to pull her around like she was his property. She won’t be able to solve that problem with words.”

  “It’s the ice. Makes Mad Dog vicious as a rattler,” Glass said.

  “And difficult to control. Mad Dog your VP?” Hugo added.

  “Not for much longer.” Glass unlocked the back door, and Hugo followed him up the stairs and down a long hallway, past several bedrooms, into a large common room. A well-stocked bar was on the left side of the room. Several men lounged around smoking weed, the aroma, mixed with leather, tobacco, and sweat, pungent in the air. They straightened up when Glass entered the room with Hugo behind him.

  “Look alive. I want you to meet Hugo Boudreaux. I’ve employed him as Alice’s bodyguard. Introduce yourselves. Prospect?”

  A young man stood.

  “Bring over two beers,” Glass ordered.

  The young man raced over to the bar.

  Hugo nodded at the men who said their names until he came to Mad Dog, who regarded him with suspicion. He counted ten in all, noting that Alice had said the club had lost members. They ranged in age from their twenties to forty-five, a ratty bunch of men with long, dirty hair, wearing jeans, T-shirts, and their cuts.

  Some looked like they’d never seen sunshine and had been hitting the booze and drugs for too long. Bunch of trailer trash compared to Troy DeLance’s brothers. Still he sat next to Glass on a hard seat, sizing up the room. The club had thick concrete walls. It wasn’t going to be easy for DeLance to take out like the last one, not with
the gates, the cameras, and the distance from the road and the water.

  “You aiming to join us?” Mad Dog asked, his intonation implying he’d make it hell for him if he had plans.

  “I’m here to guard the president’s daughter until he no longer requires my services,” he said.

  Glass slammed his hand down on the coffee table, making a sharp crack. “I brought Boudreaux to the club because there was an incident with you, Mad Dog, in the French Quarter.” Glass looked around at his men. “I’m not taking any chances with Alice after what happened to her mother. One thing I want to make clear is that Boudreaux is here on my say so. He is to be treated with respect.”

  “That goes both ways,” Mad Dog protested.

  The men murmured, the air sharp with interest.

  The prospect returned with the beers. Hugo took one from the young man. Careful not to take his eyes off Mad Dog, he leaned forward and placed the beer on the coffee table.

  “Mad Dog, explain the incident to me again, so that all the brothers can hear it. Alice told me you accosted her on the street, refused to let her go. She had bruises on her wrist,” Glass said.

  “I didn’t know she had a bodyguard. I saw this asshole following her and thought she was in trouble.”

  “That’s not how it happened,” Hugo said.

  “Alice said you told her you were going to ‘fuck her,’” Glass said, his voice like ice. “Do I need to remind you my daughter’s a nurse, not a whore?”

  “Alice was dressed like a whore, and the bodyguard was sniffing after her like a dawg in heat,” Mad Dog drawled.

  Hugo leapt to his feet, barely able to contain the urge to rip Mad Dog apart. “Since when do you get to judge her?”

  Mad Dog stood, too. “Since I wanted her to be my ol’ lady.”

  “She doesn’t want you.” He leaned forward so that he was an arm’s length from taking Mad Dog by the throat.

  Mad Dog snarled and pointed his finger at him. “She should have a man from the club instead of being fucked by you.”

  “That true, Hugo?” Glass asked, his expression turning mean. “I don’t pay you to fuck her.”

  “Not talking about Alice,” he said, keeping his gaze on Mad Dog. There were ten men here. This could get rough if Glass gave the call to attack him.

  “Because you don’t want to tell the president the truth,” Mad Dog said. “I saw you enter the Voodoo Club. Clean little Alice in a sex bar. Ain’t that nice?”

  The president stood. “You took Alice to the Voodoo Club?”

  “I took her out for dinner. The rest is none of your business,” he growled at the president.

  There was a buzz of danger, then the men went silent. Watching. Waiting.

  “Alice might not be a whore, but he’ll make her one, Glass,” Mad Dog accused. “This stranger you hired will fuck her and hurt her.”

  “You’re the one who left bruises,” Hugo said.

  Fear. He could smell it. In a moment Mad Dog would lose control, and he wanted to feel his fist meet flesh. It made everything real for him. Hate was hate. He couldn’t stand the thought of this grub touching Alice. Dragging her around.

  Glass strode between Hugo and Mad Dog. “You want to fight this out, you fight, but you use fists. What happens in the club stays in the club. You get injured, you’ll make alligator bait before you see a hospital. No weapons. You accept a weapon’s check. Agreed?” Glass asked.

  Mad Dog grunted.

  Hugo nodded.

  Glass signaled to his men to disarm Hugo and Mad Dog.

  Hugo put his arms out to the side, allowing two brothers to search him. One had SGT at Arms on his patch. The other brother’s patch read Enforcer.

  “You gonna tear each other apart,” the Sergeant at Arms said while he patted him down.

  “One of you’s gonna end up dead,” the Enforcer added, finding the knife holster on his calf, “and I don’t think the president cares which one.”

  “Isn’t going to be me,” Hugo said.

  The Enforcer put his stinking mouth close to Hugo’s ear. “Don’t be so sure, bodyguard. Glass warned that doctor off. You don’t look the type to listen. You fucked Alice. You gonna die tonight.”

  “If I do, I’ll take you with me,” he said, menace dripping from his voice. The two brothers backed away. Alice would never have a normal life with these pricks. No wonder she was so anxious to distance herself from them. He ached to break heads.

  Hugo pulled off his T-shirt, wanting to feel the raw contact on his skin. Mad Dog had ripped at his underbelly, making what he had with Alice cheap and tawdry. He wanted to kill him. He knew he couldn’t, but it didn’t stop the hunger to take the bastard down.

  “Move into the middle of the room,” Glass said, eyes gleaming as he looked from Mad Dog to Hugo.

  The brothers formed a wide circle between the bar and the lounge area, moving any extra chairs away. Hugo strode with Mad Dog into the circle.

  “Get ready,” Glass said.

  Hugo raised his fists, every raw cell in him ready to fight.

  Mad Dog, his mouth pulled back in a grimace, did the same.

  The president held his hand up in the air, bringing it down with a triumphant swoosh.

  Thank fuck Alice wasn’t here. He didn’t want her to see the animal in him erupt.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Alice shoved her key in the back door of the clubhouse, ran up the stairs and down the corridor. She could hear jeers and grunts, the sound of men enjoying sport. Human sport. She stopped at the entry of the large room. The miasma of male sweat, smoke, and beer hit her, making her gag.

  Glass grabbed her by the arm the moment she entered. “No, you don’t, missy.” Her father’s beer breath made her head jerk back.

  In front of her two men, one intense, waiting for his opportunity to strike, the other clumsy, circled each other. Blood streamed from Mad Dog’s nose onto his waist-length beard, his eyes were blackening and swollen, his lips split.

  Hugo hit Mad Dog in the nose, flattening it against his face.

  The brothers bellowed their approval.

  “Make them stop, Daddy,” she said, sickened, trying to shake off his grip.

  “No. They’re fighting this out. The brothers need to see what happens when someone disobeys me and hurts what’s mine.”

  “Daddy, please, they’ll kill each other.” She’d never seen her father so excited, utterly entranced by the barbaric display. Acrid sweat hit her nostrils as Hugo thumped Mad Dog, and he stumbled into the brothers in front of her, who shoved him back to Hugo. A spray of blood hit the floor.

  “Then so be it. You’re not welcome here, Alice. It’s men’s space.” He turned to watch the fight but didn’t let her go.

  Throat parched, stomach clenched, she couldn’t tear her eyes from Hugo. Despite the horror, he was a superb fighting machine, and her own yearning for him stirred. He wore low, tight jeans that molded to his hips, under the broad V of his torso. Light on his feet for such a big man, he jabbed at Mad Dog like a professional boxer, hitting him repeatedly in the face as if he were playing, choosing a different mark to strike each time.

  Mad Dog, unfit with a large stomach, would be pulp before he finished with him, obliterated. Annihilated.

  The men roared their approval at each well-placed punch, which sickened her further.

  Mad Dog lunged, punching Hugo in the stomach.

  Hugo barely seemed to register the hit; instead he struck Mad Dog with an uppercut, his perfectly muscled arms pistons, used with effect to torment his opposition, to weaken him.

  Mad Dog’s head jerked back with the blow until he roared and charged at Hugo, teeth bared. Latching his bull-like arms around Hugo’s waist, he drove him halfway across the room, right past her, toward the bar.

  The brothers scattered before the men plowed through them.

  She caught the expression on Hugo’s face, concentrated, merciless, his lips pulled back in a deadly grimace as he strained to regain hi
s balance.

  She knew what Hugo’s highly tuned body could do, how it could pleasure her, and now she saw how it could maim.

  With a grunt, he used his weight and height to advantage to lever himself forward against Mad Dog’s bulky force, then, grabbing his head, he wrenched it back to pry the biker’s teeth from his chest, where he had latched on like a dog.

  She had to stop this. Hugo might claim he knew the difference between fighting and killing, but if something went wrong, her father would own him. She wrenched herself free from her father’s grip and ran toward Hugo.

  “Stop, Hugo.” She leapt on his back, not knowing what else to do. “Don’t hurt him.”

  “Fuck,” he roared, veins straining, his body slick with sweat and blood. He released Mad Dog, who fell to the ground.

  Hugo pulled her off his back.

  For a terrifying moment when he held her in front of him, she thought he’d throw her to the ground like garbage. She clung to him, throwing her arms around the back of his neck, wrapping her legs around his waist. “Hugo, stop. I beg you, stop,” she urged, pressing her nose to his.

  “Alice?” Helpless bewilderment crossed his face.

  “Take me home. Take me away from this terrible place. I need you. Please. Hugo. Please.” The words spilled from her lips with her tears, mixing with his sweat. Oh dear God, she’d spent her life trying to get away from this evil, and now it was sucking him in, too.

  Glass closed in on them, tugging at Alice’s arm. “Get off him, Alice. It’s time to end the fight.”

  Alice’s head whipped around to face her father. “Get your hands off me, Daddy.”

  “You were ordered not to come here, Alice,” Glass said. “Do as you’re told.”

  “I’m not one of your men,” she said.

  “Take your hand off her,” Hugo said to Glass. “I don’t want her to see this.”

  “She made her choice when she broke my rules. Give her to me, soldier. You do what you’re trained to do. Finish the job.”

  The brothers hooted.

  Mad Dog lay on the ground groaning, eyes like slits, nose crushed so that bubbles of air and blood blew from his lips.