Talia sighed and relaxed into him. “I don’t need to blow off steam. I just don’t want you running around getting yourself killed.”
Running his fingers down the side of her arm, Tucker said, “You know me better than that, Talia. I’ve got years of training just like you. I don’t do anything without thinking it out first.”
“But you’re angry.”
“Hell yeah, I am. My friend just got shot, unprovoked. I have no idea who it was or why they did it or who they’re going to target next. There’s a real threat, to all of us,” he said, giving her shoulder a little squeeze so she knew just where his center of focus was, “and I want to get to the bottom of it before anyone else gets hurt.” Or worse. But he wasn’t going to say that out loud.
Her head fell back against his shoulder, and she closed her eyes. “I hate this. In that hospital…all I could think of was what if that had been you. And when I looked at Ginger…” She shook her head, and when she spoke again, her voice was thick with emotion. “That could have been me standing there.”
Chest constricting, Tucker pulled his woman against him and held her tight, trying his best to absorb all of her pain, worry, and fear. “That’ll never happen.”
“You don’t know that for sure. Shit happ—”
Grabbing her jaw, Tucker turned her face up to his. “It’ll never happen.” He’d see to it personally. No one was going to hurt his family ever again. He was going to use every resource at his disposal to track those bastards down and make them pay. When he found out who was behind this, he was going to be the last thing they saw coming.
Talia, staring up at him, searched his eyes—ever the analyzer. When she found what she was looking for, she gave him a faint nod. “Okay.”
And there was nothing else to say. She trusted him implicitly; Tucker had no doubt about that. It was a gift, one not freely given, and he intended to take care of it.
But the road to hell was always paved with good intentions.
TWENTY-FOUR
No matter how much time had passed, he could still taste the piss. No matter how many times he vomited, or how many times he brushed his teeth, or how much mouthwash he used. Frank hated himself for what he’d done, but he would be dead right now if he hadn’t.
Sick fucks. All of them. Sick and twisted and completely evil. Especially that woman—Luciana Cruiz. Holy shit. Not much got to him, but this one…? This one scared the hell out of him. He’d stared into the eyes of savages during his career with the FBI, but she trumped them all. If evil truly existed in the world, she was among the elite.
Cold-blooded, that’s what he’d seen in her eyes.
As he sat, knees to his chest and back to the wall, on the crumbling bathroom floor, Frank wondered how things had gotten so bad so fast.
Maybe he’d overplayed his hand. Or underestimated his enemy. He couldn’t be sure. So much had happened so fast. He’d spent years watching these degenerate criminals climb higher and higher up the food chain, always with no more than a slap on the wrist. All he’d wanted was his slice of the pie.
Cruiz had been a means to an end. Work some side jobs, deliver intel, get him closer to the Spartans. Get paid. It shouldn’t have ended this way, with him hiding out in a shit apartment, practically a prisoner, and fearing for his life at every turn.
He just wanted his money, his due, and he’d disappear. No one would ever hear from him again, and he could live a quiet, peaceful life again.
“You really screwed the pooch, you stupid fuck,” Frank cursed, hitting his forehead with closed fists.
He knew, there was no easy way out of this. No free pass. But it was the only scrap of hope he had left to hold onto.
Otherwise, he’d end up hanging himself by the ceiling fan with a bed sheet.
He needed to think smarter. This thing with Cruiz had played itself out. Now, Frank needed to dig himself out of the hole he’d fallen into.
And the only way to do that would be to go to the one place no one would expect him to go. Hell, he might get killed anyway, especially if they found out what he’d done.
But did he really have another choice?
Frank was pulling at strings here. Luciana and her brother’s men had him by the short hairs, and Frank didn’t like feeling powerless. He was going to take back control of his life, and they were going to help him.
Everything would work out just fine. He had one more trick up his sleeve, one last card to play. Hopefully, it didn’t get him killed, but he didn’t see where he had anything left to lose.
***
Church on a weekday should be criminal. Even more so? That Blake “Quick” Mahone, President of the Spartan Riders was busting Repo’s balls for daring to attend his little gala. Blake stared daggers at the man.
“You look like shit.”
“Thanks for the compliment, asshole,” Repo returned with a chuckle as he eased down into the chair on Blake’s left side.
“You weren’t supposed to be here. I told Red to tell your ass to stay in bed,” Blake informed him, his displeasure more than evident in his tone.
Repo didn’t give a fuck. He was done sitting at home like a lump. It was time to get back in the game. As he arranged himself into a comfortable position, Repo told him, “I’m fine, and Ginger doesn’t give me orders.”
“She didn’t. I did.”
“Then you should have talked to me yourself.” He passed him some semblance of a smirk that obviously pissed Blake off as much as it amused him.
“I’m sure you would have followed them to the T,” he said drolly. “You’re a real stubborn asshole, you know that?”
“Yep. But this stubborn asshole is ready to get down to business.”
And with that snappish reply, Blake understood he was finished with their conversation. Shaking his head, Blake looked to the rest of the table where the men had assembled.
Everyone was in attendance, including a couple of prospects, one being Moose’s nephew Tanner who’d recently taken on seeing to Repo’s needs. He was a good kid, and Repo had high hopes for him. He looked to each of the brothers. Their sorry mugs were drawn, everyone tense and alert after what had happened to him.
And he was sitting there as living proof of what they were facing.
It was a truly sobering effect.
With a deep sigh, Blake leaned back in his chair and looked around the table, meeting each of the men’s eyes. “What happened to Repo? It goes without saying that shit don’t fly.” He was met with murmurs of agreement. The anger flowing from the men was palpable. “What have we got so far?”
“Not a damn thing,” Moose said from the opposite end of the table. “We’re looking, but no one is talking.” He glanced over at Repo and said with deep respect, “By the way, it’s good to have you back, brother.”
Repo tipped his head in acknowledgment.
“Maybe they don’t know anything either,” Taco spoke up, drawing their attention. “Whoever these sick fucks are, they seemed to come out of nowhere.”
“You thinking a new crew on the streets?” Country asked, brows meeting in the middle.
Taco shook his head, rapping his knuckles once on the table as he glared at the slab of wood as if it’d said something offensive about his momma. Repo wondered what that was about, but it wasn’t his place to ask. “I’m not thinking shit. Just throwing it out there.”
“It’s possible. No one has heard anything? Nothing at all?” Blake looked around the table once more, but all he got was a bunch of shaking heads.
Well, shit.
“I’m looking into it,” Country announced. “I have a couple old friends I can contact and see what they can do to help too.”
“What about Talia?”
Country pulled a face, obviously not liking the idea of bringing his woman into such a volatile situation, and Repo fully understood that. If the tables were turned, the last thing he’d consider was putting Ginger in danger, but they had their asses to the wall, and he knew Blake w
as thinking the same thing. They needed every resource available.
“She might be able to do something. I’ll ask.” Country paused, clearly still thinking. “I don’t want her a part of this. If she gives us anything, it passes through me.”
Blake tipped his head. “Got it. We’ll be careful to keep her as far from this as possible. I don’t want any of the women and children mixed up in this,” he said, the warning clear as he looked once again at his men. “I don’t care how we make it happen, but they’re not to be caught up in anything.”
It was impossible to keep the families out of the mix. They knew that. But it was easier to pretend they had some control over the outcome. And hell, they’d all do their best to see that it ended that way, but no one could control variables, and there were just too many unknowns to be sure.
So they had to be careful, vigilant. It was the only way to ensure that everyone came out of this alive.
Repo would not have anything bad happen to Ginger, just as he knew Blake wouldn’t allow harm to come to his family. They would tread carefully.
“I have a dinner to get to,” Blake announced, “so unless anyone else has anything to add…?” Everyone exchanged looks, but no one was offering, so Blake stood. “Meeting is over then. We’ll do this again in a couple days, unless someone finds something worth mentioning before then.”
Repo was exhausted. He’d been losing sleep for days, and it was taking its toll, but he couldn’t afford to lay down his guard just yet. He needed answers and was determined to find them. He just wasn’t sure where to look.
***
Lingering until everyone passed through the door, Blake turned his focus on Repo who was making his way around the table.
“How you been?”
Garrick glanced up and read Blake’s concerned expression. “Just a scratch,” he grunted.
“You could have died.”
“So I’ve heard. Gonna take a lot more firepower to put me in the ground, though.” He fell into line with Blake and together they walked out into the clubhouse proper where everyone had gathered, drinks and music flowing as if it was just another normal day.
Across the way, Ginger was helping behind the bar, and Repo went straight for her. Blake was still a bit surprised that the man was so hung up on her. Not that she wasn’t worth being hung up over, but he’d never expected the guy to settle down after his failed marriage.
They’d all be witness to the carnage it had been. Blake thought the man would never place his trust in another woman, let alone stake a claim, but there he was. And if judging by the way Ginger’s eyes lit and her soft smile spread across her face when she noticed him approaching was any indication, she had finally come around to wanting the same.
It would be strange, Blake had to admit, seeing her focused on someone other than him. And that wasn’t his ego talking. He’d just grown accustomed to her attentions over the years. He never really thought of her looking at someone else that way, but she was.
Truth be told, he was happy for both of them. They deserved some happiness after what life had put them through—two crazy marriages and a host of problems. If there was ever a pair that could commiserate over common history, it’d be those two.
“You want a beer?” Repo asked him as he ambled up to the bar.
Blake looked around, spotting Gabby sitting across the room with Talia. She was animated, her hands going all over the place as she spoke, but always coming back to her swollen belly to give it a little rub.
His chest felt tight, and he could feel a smile forming. Damn, he loved that woman.
“No, man, I have other plans. Another time though.”
He couldn’t wait to take his wife—never thought he’d have one of those—home. They had plans to cook dinner together, then cuddle on the couch with Ash and watch a movie, and after the little man crashed for the night, he was going to take his woman to bed and show her how sexy he thought she was. Carrying his child? Hottest fucking thing he’d ever seen. Made him hard just looking at her.
“Another time then,” Repo said, clapping him on the shoulder.
“Yeah, man. Take it easy, yeah?”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” Repo said with a smirk.
Blake shook his head. The man was old school badass. He was probably planning some bedroom acrobatics as they spoke, but that was his prerogative. Blake wasn’t about to tell a grown man what to do. If he wanted to aggravate his injuries just to get his dick wet, then so be it.
Hell, he’d probably do the same damn thing if the roles were reversed.
Catching Ginger’s eye, he flipped her a wave and headed for Gabby.
Like her name, she was gabbing away as he approached. Talia saw him first and lifted her chin, offering him a friendly smile, which had Gabby turning to look over her shoulder.
The grin she had for him melted Blake’s heart on the spot. He would never get used to the way she looked at him, as if he hung the moon and stars just for her. Brushing her hair off her neck, he leaned down and kissed her bare shoulder exposed by her skimpy little yellow flowered sundress.
“Hey, teach.”
“Hey, honey. All done?”
“Yep. You ready to get out of here?”
She sighed contentedly. “I suppose.”
Blake frowned. “We can stay longer if you want to talk some more. I’ll find something to do until you’re ready.”
“No, it’s okay. Talia and I weren’t talking about anything important anyway.”
He looked to Talia in askance.
“Honest, we were just chatting about babies and school and work. Nothing worth keeping you for, especially with that amazing dinner you have planned.” She rolled her eyes back as if in pleasure. “I haven’t had a good steak in forever.”
Country chose that moment to walk up and immediately picked up the conversation. “If you wanted some meat to chew on, all you had to do was say so.”
Talia rolled her eyes in feigned exasperation as he came around to her side of the table and leaned down for a kiss. “Not that kind of meat,” she lightly scolded.
“Again, all you had to do was ask. We can stop and pick something up on the way home if you want and I’ll fire up the grill.”
“You don’t have to go through all that trouble,” she protested, but he cut her off with a finger pressed against her lips.
“Nothing is too much trouble for you, sugar.”
As they started murmuring to each other, Blake took Gabby’s hand and helped her to her feet. She wasn’t so big that she should have any trouble getting around, but he liked to make sure. He just needed to be there, every step of the way, to make sure she was well taken care off.
“Catch you two later,” he told Country and Talia.
Country flipped up his hand in goodbye without taking his attention away from his woman, which made Blake laugh and Gabby giggle.
“They’re so cute together,” she said.
“They’re sickening,” Blake joked. Truth be told, he and Gabby probably weren’t much better. He was more than okay with that.
“Did you know Talia wants a motorcycle for her birthday? She’s going to ask him tonight.”
Blake frowned, imagining Talia ridding around beside Country rather than behind him. “I doubt that’s going to happen.” Tucker was too macho to allow it. Blake would pay to be a fly on the wall during that conversation.
“You don’t think he’d get her one?”
“Doubtful, teach. Country is old school that way.”
Her pretty face scrunched in thought, and Blake kissed the side of her head. “What would you say if I asked for one?” she asked him, catching him by surprise.
“Do you?”
“No, but if I did…?”
“Then I’d buy one in every color, baby.”
Her answering smile suggested he’d just made her day, which was great for him, especially since he knew he’d never have to worry about delivering on it.
Slinging h
is arm over her shoulders, Blake nodded to people as he led the way out to the truck, thinking how, even though he was enjoying this time watching Gabby grow fat with their child, he couldn’t wait to have her on the back of his bike again.
TWENTY-FIVE
As soon as the meeting was over, Taco blazed a trail straight to her apartment.
Only to find the place empty.
Son of a bitch.
He’d known what he was going to find before he even opened the door. The ominous feeling had settled on his chest like a boulder, crushing the air from his lungs. Sometimes, you just knew when things weren’t right. And he’d felt it as soon as he pulled into the parking lot. There was an emptiness in his gut, and the way the overcast sky seemed to loom above seemed to foreshadow what he was seeing now.
Taco stood in the doorway, keys in hand, staring at the empty space. The carpet was several shades lighter in places, marking where furniture had been, and the scent of pine sol still hung in the air, though faint.
She’d left? Just like that, without a word, she’d up and fucking left.
What the actual fuck. Taco balled his fists, livid. He’d never—never—seen something so fucked up, and he’d seen some fucked-up shit in his life. Of all the things women had done over the years, he’d thought she was different.
Passionate and a little headstrong, sure. Even a touch crazy at times, but she had been remarkable too. Caught and held his attention like no one before her. Yes, she’d been screwed up when he’d found her, and yes, he knew he shouldn’t have gotten involved—you never got involved with a brother’s ol’ lady—but he had and there was nothing to do about it now.
He had been prepared to stand at the frontline and defend their relationship…and she’d left him.
No word, no message, not even a fucking text? That was some harsh shit, and Taco was having trouble digesting it.
Was this what they referred to as karma? Had all the shit he’d done—no call backs, no texts, just dead silence—finally come back on him?
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