Devil's Vengeance: Sydney Storm MC

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Devil's Vengeance: Sydney Storm MC Page 2

by Nina Levine


  “Devil, you’re with me, today,” Hyde said, taking a step away from King. The tense body language between the two of them told me everything I needed to know—things weren’t good between our club president and VP.

  Hyde had been late for Church yesterday, angering King. That anger remained, and I wondered when it would ease. Hyde’s mood was worse than ever, and King’s patience with him had disappeared.

  I gave Hyde a nod. “Whatever you need.”

  Nitro and Kick entered the bar and made their way to us. One look at Nitro and I knew something was up. He eyed King. “Dragon’s not answering his phone. I don’t have a good feeling about this, King. You want us to head over to their clubhouse and check things out?”

  Before King could answer, his phone rang. “What?” he barked when he answered it. Silence for a moment, and then—“Bring him in.” Ending the call, he looked at us with a frown. “There’s a guy at the front gate who claims to be a fucking cop with info I need to hear about the Gambarro plans.” Raking his fingers through his hair, he roared, “Fuck! This is the last fucking thing we need.”

  “Shit,” I muttered. “Bronze said for you to call him and that he didn’t have time to call you this morning because of family stuff he had going on. He knew something was going down.”

  “Christ.” King scowled as he processed my words and then turned at the sound of men entering the clubhouse.

  A moment later, Jacko stood in front of us with a guy who looked anything but a cop. Jerking his chin at the guy, Jacko said, “Says he’s a fed. Showed me his badge, but I don’t know if it’s legit.”

  At first glance, I wouldn’t have assumed the guy was a cop. Tattoos covered one of his arms, a scruffy beard filled half his face, and his clothes would have allowed him to fit in at any of the pubs we frequented. But when I looked closer and noticed his clean fingernails and expensive looking shoes that I’d never seen anyone I knew wear, I figured he could well be a pig.

  He pulled out his badge and showed it to King. “Detective Ryland. I’m here to discuss your plans for Angelo Gambarro.”

  King inspected the badge. “What plans?”

  Ryland shoved his badge in his pocket. “The plans you’ve been making with Silver Hell to take down Gambarro’s organisation and kill him. The plans you are going to walk away from in order to avoid me investigating your club and generally making your life hell.”

  King’s jaw clenched and his shoulders squared. “I don’t know how the hell you know this shit, but I’m going to make it my mission to find out.”

  Ryland had some fucking balls. He stepped closer to King, invading his space, and pushed his face towards Kings. “You’re going to leave it be, King. I’m not a man you want to fuck with. We’ve been watching you and your boys for some time now, and the shit we know about Storm would be enough to put you away for a long fucking time.” He cocked his head. “But maybe you want to spend time with Ghost. How long’s it been since you’ve seen him?”

  King’s whole body tensed and his face contorted with anger. “Leave him the fuck out of it.”

  “Yeah, ten years behind bars for your club is enough to fuck with a man, so I’m guessing you and Ghost aren’t on good terms these days.”

  “You’ve got no fucking idea what you’re talking about,” King spat. “And as far as putting any of my men behind bars, I’d like to see you prove a fucking thing in court. You’re full of shit. Nothing we do is traceable and we sure as fuck don’t leave evidence behind that you motherfuckers can use against us.”

  Ryland stepped away from King. “You go near Gambarro and we’ll test that theory. But hear me when I say that we do have proof and we won’t hesitate to use it.” He took a few steps towards the door before pausing. “Also know that we’re watching you 24/7 at the moment. There’s no way for you to do anything without us knowing about it.” With that, he exited the room. Jacko followed him to ensure he left the property.

  King slammed his hand down on the bar. “Motherfucker!” Turning to Hyde, he ordered, “Call Dragon and see if they’ve had a visit from the feds, too. I’m calling Bronze.”

  Hyde nodded and pulled his phone out as he walked away in search of a quiet place to make the call. King did the same, heading to a corner of the bar. I watched as his face and body language changed during the call. Whatever Bronze told him, angered him more than Ryland had.

  When he came back to where I stood with Nitro and Kick, he said, “The cops have a guy undercover with Silver Hell. That’s how they know our shit. It seems that Gambarro is tied up with some counterfeiting operation and the feds are watching him to figure out who else is involved and who is running it. We kill him, they lose the one person they have who can lead them to more information.”

  Hyde joined us. “Dragon had the same visit we did. That’s why he wasn’t answering his phone this morning.”

  “What’s his plan now?” Nitro asked.

  “Says he can’t afford to piss the feds off, so he’s backing away from Gambarro for the moment. He did say, though, that he wants to move forward in the future, once this all dies down,” Hyde said.

  King turned silent, weighing up options by the look on his face. We all knew to stay silent while he thought it through. Finally, he said, “Gambarro goes on hold, but we keep eyes on him. Hyde, you and Kick stay on top of that and report back daily.” Eyeing Nitro, he said, “You and Devil pay a visit to Ghost. I want to know if the cops have anything there.”

  Nitro frowned. “Ghost wouldn’t talk.”

  King scowled. “Ghost is capable of anything, Nitro. Find out what we need to know.”

  I’d never met Ghost, but I’d heard the stories about him and King. No love was lost there. Not after Ghost made a play for King’s woman years ago.

  Nitro didn’t seem convinced, but he nodded. “Will do.”

  As I followed him outside, I said, “On a scale of one to ten, how bad is this likely to get if Ghost is involved?”

  He slowed so he could meet my gaze. “I’d say an eleven.”

  2

  Hailee

  “You nail that chick last night?”

  I glanced up from my phone and eyed my bandmate Hollis, who’d just asked one of my other bandmates that question. “Am I invisible?” I’d told him enough times lately to stop discussing the groupies they banged while I was in the room, yet, he continued to do it.

  “Fuck, Hailee, this is how we’ve always talked. Even with you in the room,” he muttered. Gesturing at our other bandmates, he said, “Back me up, fuckers.”

  Before either Dylan or Trent could say anything, I stood and said, “I know, but I’m over it. I don’t care that you do it, but I’d just rather you talk about your groupies when I’m not around.” Grabbing my bag, I said, “I’m gonna go grab a drink before our set.” The need to get out of this room was intense. My usually easy-going mood had disappeared, replaced with irritation I couldn’t shake. And I knew it wasn’t the guys causing it, but they were the ones who’d cop it if I didn’t leave.

  Dylan frowned. “We haven’t finalised our set list yet.”

  “Let’s just go with the same as last night.” I didn’t wait for anyone’s reply before exiting the room and heading towards the bar.

  God knew, I needed a drink. It’d been a long day with the animal protest and then work. An argument with my grandmother right before coming to the pub had put me on edge. We hardly ever argued, but when we did, I usually realised she was right. And fuck it, I didn’t want her to be right this time.

  “You look like you could murder someone,” Doug said as I leaned on the counter of the bar. He was my favourite Fling bartender, and Fling was my favourite pub. All of this caused me to smile for the first time in at least two hours.

  Sighing, I said, “Yeah, myself.”

  He placed a drink on the counter and slid it my way. “Saw you coming. Knew you needed this just by looking at you.”

  I glanced down at the French Martini he’d made me and the
n smiled up at him. Before I lifted it to my mouth, I said, “You’re an absolute star, Mr Gilbert.”

  He grinned the sexy grin that nearly caused me to sleep with him once ages ago. I’d come to my senses when I’d realised I didn’t want to chance ruining the awesome friendship we had. “And yet, she still refuses to sleep with me.”

  My smile morphed into a grin to match his. “And yet, he doesn’t care as much as he makes out he does, because he knows we’re better off as friends.”

  “I hope Wayne knows how lucky he is, Hailee.”

  My smile disappeared and my shoulders slumped a little. Placing my cocktail down, I said, “What do you really think of Wayne?”

  Many of our conversations revolved around my dating life. After a shitty relationship of mine ended two years ago, I’d spent the time since then trying to find love. Without much success. I’d been dating Wayne for almost a month, and I thought he was a great guy—thoughtful, stable, steady job, seemed settled in life—but my grandmother had told me that afternoon that he wasn’t the one for me. She said she saw no fire between the two of us.

  “You want the truth, babe? Or aren’t you ready for that yet?” Doug’s eyes held mine while he waited for my reply. There was so much kindness there that I knew he’d give it to me gently. And he’d only ever tell me the God’s honest truth as he saw it.

  I nodded. “Give it to me.”

  He rested his arms on the counter. “Wayne’s a good guy, no doubt about it, but I don’t see any chemistry between the two of you. He doesn’t light you up, and I don’t think he’s made you any happier than you already were.” He leaned towards me. “Hailee, when you’re with the right man, he’ll make you smile more than you ever have. You’ll feel more than you ever have. Hell, you might even argue more than you ever have with a guy. The point is, there’ll be passion. I don’t see that with Wayne.”

  “Have you been talking to my grandmother? She told me today that there’s no fire between the two of us.”

  He grinned again as he straightened. “Always did love Jean. That woman knows her shit. She coming to watch you sing tonight?”

  “No, it’s Monday.” At his frown, I added, “Monday nights are reserved for Law and Order reruns.”

  Doug’s attention shifted for a moment as he looked past me. Lifting his chin, he spoke to someone standing behind me. “Hey, man, the usual?”

  “Yeah.” The guy’s deep voice filtered through the air as he moved to stand next to me.

  “Tatum here tonight?” Doug asked as he poured two beers.

  I turned to look up at the guy. Jesus, he was built. And hot. I had to work hard to keep my tongue in my mouth.

  He shook his head. “Not yet, but she’s on her way.”

  “Billy got her working hard?”

  The guy’s jaw clenched, and I got the distinct impression from the way his lips pressed together that whoever Billy was, this man didn’t much like him. “When doesn’t he?”

  Doug nodded. “Yeah, it seems that way lately. She hasn’t been here as much, that’s for sure.”

  A redheaded woman interrupted us. “Nitro, where’s Tatum? I thought she’d be here by now.”

  “I thought she was coming with you.”

  “Nope, she rang to say she’d meet me here, and because I’m late, I assumed she’d be here already.” She checked her watch. “Fuck, Billy must have dumped more work on her. I swear I’m gonna have words with that man. It’s not fair how much shit he’s got her doing these days.”

  Nitro took the drinks Doug passed him. “Yeah, well if he doesn’t pull his head in soon, I’ll be having words with him. And I don’t give a fuck if Tatum doesn’t like what I have to say.”

  “Oh, fuck,” the woman muttered as Nitro left. Her eyes met Doug’s. “The last thing any of us need is Nitro having words with Billy.”

  “I can’t imagine anyone wanting to have words with Nitro,” Doug said. “You want your usual, Monroe?”

  Before I could stop it, my mouth opened and out gushed, “Oh, I love that name!”

  Monroe’s gaze met mine and she smiled, and when she smiled, she radiated the kind of warmth anyone would want to be next to. Her whole face lit up and I couldn’t help but be drawn to the beauty she wore like a second skin. She was all gorgeous curves, stunning long red hair, flawless skin made up perfectly, and sparkling eyes. If I was the kind of woman to feel jealousy, I’d feel it with this woman.

  “Thank you, honey,” she said. “What’s your name?”

  “Hailee.”

  “I love that, too.” Her gaze zeroed in on my cocktail when I drank some more of it. “Oooh, what is that? I need one of those.” She looked up at Doug. “You’ve been holding out on me.”

  He chuckled. “Babe, I haven’t been holding out. You’ve just been set on drinking Jägerbombs lately.”

  She pouted, her red lipstick catching my eye. I wondered if she was a make-up artist. Or maybe a hairdresser. Both her hair and make-up were amazing, so I figured she could be either. Clicking her fingers at him, she said, “Start me off with a Jägerbomb and then make me whatever that cocktail is.” She settled on a stool next to me as she issued her request.

  He arched a brow and she added, “Please,” with a grin. Then—“Wait,”—glancing at me, she asked, “Do you want a Jäger with me?”

  “Sure, I could do with one tonight. Or two.”

  Her grin spread further across her face. “Awesome. Two please, Doug.”

  My phone sounded with a text as he started on our drinks.

  Dylan: You good?

  Me: I will be.

  Dylan: You reckon that’ll kick in tonight? Or should I warn the guys to strap on some armour?

  Me: You a funny guy *said in best foreign accent*

  Dylan: Just looking out for my girl.

  Me: Love you, D. Now leave me be. I’m getting wasted.

  Dylan: Jesus. We’ve got music to play. Hold off on the turps.

  Me: Just fucking with you. I’m only having two drinks.

  Dylan: Famous last fucking words. I’m coming now.

  “Girl, you are smiling like a loon,” Monroe said. Lifting her chin at my phone, she added, “That your man?”

  I placed my phone on the counter and reached for one of the drinks Doug had made us. “No, it’s my bandmate.”

  “You two aren’t together?”

  “No. He’s one of my closest friends.” Now that Tricia was gone. I lifted my Jägerbomb up. “Cheers.”

  We threw the drinks down our throats and I remembered why I didn’t drink Jäger often.

  “You don’t love it so much?” Monroe asked as she took in the face I pulled.

  “It’s not my favourite, no.” I caught Doug’s eye and raised my empty Martini glass while indicating that I’d like another.

  She laughed. “We need to drink together more often. You just need to drink more of it and then you’ll start to like it.”

  “Oh, God, is my cousin trying to make you drink Jäger?”

  I turned to find a blonde woman standing behind us, a look of amusement on her face.

  Monroe turned also. “Oh, hush, Tatum. I need to find at least one person who wants to drink it with me.”

  Tatum was gorgeous, but in a completely different way to her cousin. Where Monroe was ample curves, Tatum was slender; where Monroe was mostly clean skin, Tatum was inked all over; and where Monroe’s eyes held warmth, Tatum’s held hesitation.

  Her eyes met mine, narrowing. “Have we met before?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “You’re so familiar to me.”

  Monroe’s face washed over with recognition. “I’ve been sitting here thinking the same thing, and I’ve just figured it out. You’re the singer in Cherry Vivid, aren’t you? The band that plays here a couple of times most weeks.”

  “Yes, that’s me.” I’d never seen them here before, but that didn’t mean much, because usually I was either working the stage or dancing. I didn’t spend a lot of ti
me socialising unless you counted the time I spent with my bandmates or with Doug.

  “Tatum!” A guy’s voice cut through the air, and a sense of having heard that voice hit me.

  Tatum turned at the same time I looked past her at the man walking our way. My tummy did flips like it was a freaking Olympic gymnast, and my legs threatened to give way when I saw who the deep rumble belonged to.

  The guy I’d met in the back of Aaron’s car that morning.

  Devil.

  Everything about him was sexy, from his chiselled jaw, to his muscular arms, to the scruff on his face, to the ink that covered his skin, to the way he sauntered my way with a knowing expression on his face. It was the kind of expression that told me he wasn’t a man who hid his attraction to a woman, but I should have remembered that from when I’d met him earlier. He sure hadn’t hidden it then. He’d looked at me like he wanted to devour me. Pretty much the same way he looked at me now.

  Blue eyes met mine as he came closer, and his lips curled up into a smile that could wipe all thoughts from a woman’s mind. All thoughts except those about him. “It’s my animal protest girl.” The way he said my only caused more Olympic-worthy somersaults in my belly.

  “And it’s my protector,” I bantered back, wanting him to never stop talking. Guilty thoughts about Wayne swam through my mind for at least a moment, and I did my best to turn them off. We aren’t serious. We’ve made no commitments to each other. He said just the other day that it was a bit of fun to see where it went. Surely it’s okay to flirt with another guy while we’re seeing…

  “You two know each other?” Tatum asked.

  Devil’s eyes held mine. “No, I don’t even know her name.”

  “Hailee,” I said, not letting his eyes go either.

  “Hailee,” he murmured, my name sliding through his lips so damn huskily that I wanted to ask him to say it again. And again.

  “And you’re Devil?” It was what Aaron had called him that morning, but it seemed more like a nickname than a real name.

 

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