Devil's Vengeance: Sydney Storm MC

by Nina Levine

  “I can go home? You think you’re staying or something?”

  “Jesus, Bronze—”

  A scream from inside drew our attention back to the job at hand, and Bronze banged hard on the front door. “Police! Open up!”

  Silence.

  And then the front door was yanked open and a pissed off guy stood glaring at us. “Yeah?”

  Bronze pushed his way inside and I followed behind while the asshole protested after slamming the door shut.

  We found a woman cowering in the corner of the kitchen with a bloody nose and bruises on her face. Bronze went to her and crouched while saying, “He hit you again, Maria?”

  She stared at him through fearful eyes that darted between Bronze and the asshole who’d hit her. She didn’t appear to want to tell Bronze what had happened, and when the asshole started yelling at us, she ducked her head and covered it with her hands.

  “We don’t fucking need your help,” the asshole yelled.

  Bronze stood. “Yeah, see I’m thinking you do. Just like every other fucking time you get your drink on and lose your shit with her.”

  The asshole snarled. “What you need to do is mind your own damn business. She’s fine, and I just want to watch the fucking television in peace without any of you fucking interrupting me.”

  My carefully controlled temper snapped, and I stepped forward to get in the guy’s face. “She interrupt your peace, did she, asshole? Is that why you punched the fuck out of her?”

  His eyes glinted with hate. “Yeah, matter of fact she did. What’s it to you?”

  Without a second thought, I swung my fist straight into his face, knocking him flat on his ass on the hard tiles of the kitchen.

  “Fucking hell, Devil, I told you to keep your goddam shit together,” Bronze roared.

  I ignored him and stepped over the guy so I could grab his shirt and reef him up. Once I had him standing, I spun him around and slammed him hard against the pantry door, taking care to smash his head hard against it. I then punched his face again. Twice. When he hit the floor for the second time that day, I crouched down next to him and said, “That’s what it is to me, motherfucker. I’m practically living next door to you now. If I so much as think you’re taking to her with your fists, I’ll be over here. And what you’re feeling now? It’s fucking nothing compared to what you’ll get off me next time.”

  I left him and stalked outside, barely able to stomach being inside his house. When I was almost back to Hailee’s front door, I stopped and bent, resting my hands on my knees. Taking some long deep breaths, I attempted to get myself back under control. I didn’t want to go back inside while in this state of anger.

  “What the fuck was that shit?” Bronze yelled.

  “I was just doing what you can’t,” I yelled back. “And besides, that kind of cunt only responds to fists and threats. He’s hardly gonna listen to anything you have to say.”

  Hailee ran outside. “Did everything go okay?”

  Ignoring her, he looked at me and said, “As far as you practically living here, you know where I stand on that, so I suggest you reassess that statement.”

  He left us alone, stalking back inside.

  Hailee looked up at me with a frown. “What did he mean by that?”

  Fuck.

  I hadn’t told her how I knew her brother, and I sure as fuck hadn’t told her about his ultimatum. I wasn’t about to, either. Snaking my arm around her waist, I said, “Nothing, darlin’. We’ll sort our shit out soon.”

  Shaking her head, she said, “Devil, don’t lie to me. I know he’s got a problem with me dating you. Has he said something to you about it?”

  “He’s made it clear he doesn’t want us to date, yes. But, Hailee”—I strengthened my hold on her—“I’m not walking away, okay? Your brother will have to either come around or learn to live with us being together.”

  She nodded like she believed me, but I saw the doubt in her eyes. I resolved to do whatever it took to get Bronze on side. No fucking way was he coming between me and the woman I wanted by my side in life.

  Monday rolled around and so did Storm’s problems.

  “Got a job for you and Hyde,” King said, coming out of his office when I hit the clubhouse first thing Monday morning. He looked as tired as I felt.

  “What?” I said as I yawned.

  His forehead crinkled in a frown. “You get any sleep last night, Devil?”

  “Some.” Hailee had kept me up half the night, so I couldn’t complain. But a later alarm would have been appreciated. She always set her alarm for six fucking a.m. to do her meditation. I needed to find a way to still get as much sex in as we did, but with more hours of sleep. Possibly getting her naked much fucking earlier would do it, but then again we’d probably just fuck for longer and still not get much sleep.

  “Devil! You fucking hearing a word I’m saying?”

  I blinked and yawned again. “No, but I was wondering how you went with Jen on Saturday night? Did you go home and talk to her?”

  “Yeah, she’s sorted.”

  “As in?” It felt like I cared more about her than he did at this point, and that was saying something because I cared almost nothing for her.

  “Fuck, Devil, what is this? Monday-fucking-sharing-circle?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I told her she can stay with me while she’s pregnant and then until she finds her feet. After that, I want her gone. Now, can we please get back to club shit?”

  “What’s on for today?” I was more than happy to get back to club shit.

  “I need you and Hyde to go collect cash off a few assholes today.”

  “Where’s Kick?” It was usually his job to do collections.

  “Evie’s in hospital. They’re having some complications with the pregnancy, so I’ve told him to take whatever time he needs with her.”

  I nodded. “Is Hyde in already?”

  “Yeah.” At my stunned expression, he said, “Surprised the fuck outta me, too, brother.”

  After months of Hyde being off the rails with his moods, and being MIA more often than not, he’d finally gotten his shit together over the last couple of weeks and was back to putting the club first.

  “You ready to go?” Hyde joined us, no sign of his usual morning grumpiness at all.

  “Be back by lunch. Devil, you’re with me for my visit with Ghost this afternoon,” King said.

  As Hyde and I walked out to our bikes, I wondered what the hell had happened with him to change his mood so drastically. In the end, I decided it had to be pussy. I couldn’t think of anything else that would change his asshole ways in such a short amount of time.

  I glared at the motherfucker standing in front of Hyde and me, giving us the fucking run around. My mood had turned foul as the morning progressed, and no fucking way did I have the patience to deal with his shit. On top of that, the heat had grown unbearable. We were dealing with fucking forty-plus degree heat, and we were doing that inside this motherfucker’s tiny tin shed of a fucking house.

  “Look,” I snapped, “have you got the cash or fucking not?”

  He grimaced, and I knew we weren’t going to get very far, very fucking fast. “Well, I do, but it—”

  Hyde had been patient up until that point, again surprising me, but he’d found his breaking point, too. Stepping forward, he scrunched a handful of the guy’s shirt in his hand. “There’s no room for any buts in all this, asshole. To be honest, I’m hoping you don’t have the cash, because I’m ready to give my fists a workout.”

  The guy continued to shake his head and plead his case. “I can get it for you, but not today.”

  Hyde grunted as he let the guy’s shirt go, and punched him hard in the face. His mouth spread out in a satisfied expression as he watched the asshole slump to the ground.

  Glancing at me, he said, “Best part of the fucking day so far.”

  “We need to hurry this along, Hyde. The heat in here is fucked.”

  Hyde looked back at the guy. �
�You want a finger or a whole hand, Devil?”

  The guy’s eyes just about popped out of his head. “What?”

  Hyde pulled out his knife and ran it down the asshole’s face. “You didn’t think we’d leave empty-handed, did you? We have to take something back to our president, and if it’s not cash, a body part will do for now.”

  Right as the guy was about to get into it with us, shots rang out and bullets sprayed the house, smashing through the front windows.

  Hyde and I ran towards the front door, ducking to avoid being shot. A car had screeched to a stop outside, and as we shot at it, the driver slammed his foot to the floor and took off.

  “Forget the asshole inside,” Hyde yelled. “I wanna know who the fuck that was.”

  I agreed with him, and a couple of minutes later we were in pursuit on our bikes.

  Weaving in and out of traffic, we quickly caught up to the car. Hot smoggy wind whipped around me while horns blared and brakes squealed as we disrupted the traffic.

  From what I could work out, there were two men in the car. Hyde was ahead of me and signaled for me to take the driver side while he took the passenger side. I sped up to do as he’d indicated, but as we approached, the car abruptly turned right into a side street, almost causing me to come off my bike.

  We adjusted course and followed them down a narrow street with bends all through it. Traffic was minimal, and the guy in the passenger side stuck his head out the window and shot at us.

  Fuck.

  I gripped the bike harder while doing my best to avoid getting fucking killed while also navigating around parked cars and bends in the street.

  The end of the street came into view, and I watched as the car took the corner too sharply. It smashed into an oncoming car, and I figured we would get the chance to find out who we were dealing with. However, as we drew closer, the driver revved the engine and sped away from the crash scene.

  We followed as best we could, but the traffic grew busier, making it difficult for us to weave in and out. Lunchtime foot traffic didn’t help either, slowing us, too. The dirty white car we followed soon became a speck in the distance. We didn’t give up easily, but when we found ourselves stuck at a red light in gridlocked traffic in the middle of Sydney, I knew we were done.

  Once we got through the city and out of the heavy traffic, I followed Hyde’s lead and pulled over to the side of the road.

  Ripping his helmet off, he muttered, “I’ve got no fucking idea who that was. You?”

  I shook my head. “No, but we’ve got a number plate we can run. I doubt it’ll do us any good, but it’s worth a shot.”

  “I’ll get onto that while you head out to see Ghost. I’m gonna make it my fucking mission to find out who those motherfuckers were.”

  Ghost’s eyes held more suspicion than I’d ever seen in any person before when he faced King and me that afternoon. He refused to sit. Rather, he stood and watched us with his arms folded across his chest.

  King’s lips curled up in annoyance. “For fucks sake, sit, Ghost,” he barked.

  Ghost’s body tensed. If we hadn’t been in a prison with guards’ eyes on us, I was fairly sure he’d take a swing at King. “I stopped listening to you a long fucking time ago. I’m hardly gonna start again.”

  “You will when you hear what I’ve got to say.”

  A flicker of interest flared in Ghost’s eyes. He attempted to hide it, but if I’d seen it, King wouldn’t have missed it. “How about you spit it out and then I’ll decide whether I sit or not?”

  King’s hands landed on the table and he stood. In a low, menacing voice, he said, “How about you fucking sit or else I’ll make sure your stay in this shithole is extended.”

  I had no doubt he would, too. King had that kind of power, and if someone pissed him off he didn’t hesitate to use it.

  Ghost scowled, but he sat.

  King followed suit before saying, “You seen the feds again?”

  Ghost’s stubborn side kicked in. “I’m not answering that until I know what’s on the table.”

  King leant forward and dropped his voice to speak quietly. “Your parole is coming up.”

  Ghost took in the full meaning of what King meant and blew out a pissed off breath. “You’re a fucking cunt, King.”

  “Yeah, that might be, but I do what I do for the club.” He stopped for a moment before adding, “Except when an asshole tries to step in on my territory. The shit I do to him for that is solely for my benefit.” Fuck, we were going to dredge up the Jen shit from years ago.

  “Jesus, are you ever gonna let that go? I was fucking drunk. And Jen wasn’t into it, anyway.”

  King’s eyes darkened as he shook his head. “I’m not talking about Jen.”

  I sat up straighter and looked at King. This was news to me.

  Ghost stared at King for a long silent few moments, recognition all over his face. He knew what King was talking about. “Fuck, man, that was a long fucking time ago. I was young and dumb as shit. And so was she.”

  King’s body snapped back as anger flooded his face. “Don’t ever fucking talk about her like that again.”

  I blinked. I’d seen King in a murderous rage many times, but this… this was off the fucking charts. The venom laced through his words revealed the level of hatred he had for Ghost. If I were sitting on the other side of the table being asked if I wanted parole, I’d say fuck no. Because the minute Ghost got out, he’d need to take cover from King. And there weren’t many places in this country that anyone could be safe from my president. His reach was that far and wide.

  Ghost’s face whitened. “Look, Ivy was—”

  King punched the table. “Don’t fucking say her name!”

  “Jesus, King,” I muttered, eyeing the guard watching us. “You’re drawing attention.”

  He ignored me. “You thought I’d never find out, Ghost? What I can’t figure out is why you even thought Ivy would be into you? And don’t try to feed me some bullshit about her saying yes to you. Jen told me everything you told her about that day.”

  Ghost looked down at his hands resting on the table. He didn’t answer King straight away, and I wondered where this would all end up. I joined the club a long time after Ivy left, so I didn’t know what had gone on. But I’d heard the stories about the love King had for her. Apparently when she’d left it had ripped him apart and he’d spent years getting over her. I was beginning to think he’d never gotten over her, because I’d never seen him like this over Jen or any other woman.

  When Ghost finally looked back up at King, the fight had gone out of him. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I saw guilt flash in his eyes when he spoke. “I was twenty-three then, King, and all I ever seemed to do was fuck shit up. I was drunk every damn day, and half the time I had no idea what I was doing.”

  “So that makes it okay to try and fuck someone else’s woman? The thing is, Ghost, it wasn’t just my woman you tried it on with. You screwed anyone who stepped on your path. And because of the power you had in the club, you got away with it. Over and fucking over. And when Ivy said no to you, you kept on fucking trying.”

  We all sat in silence after that. Ghost had nothing to come back with and it seemed that King had said all he would on the subject.

  Finally, King stood and said, “You keep your mouth shut when the feds visit, and move your sister back home so I know where she is, and I’ll help push your parole through. You don’t do any of those things, and we’re done for good. I’ll happily watch you rot in this hellhole.”

  On our way out to our bikes, after King had secured Ghost’s agreement, I said, “You didn’t strip him of VP because of Jen, did you?”

  King slowed, his eyes meeting mine. “No.” His gaze drifted off somewhere behind me for a beat, before coming back to me. “I didn’t fight hard enough for Ivy back then. The minute I could, I fucking did.”

  I didn’t understand his meaning, but that was the thing with King—most people often didn’t. He talked i
n riddles half the time, and his mind sometimes worked in ways that made no sense to me. But if you needed someone on your side who was loyal as fuck, King was your man. I couldn’t even begin to imagine a time when he wouldn’t fight hard for someone he cared about, and I wondered what had gone on back then for that to have happened.

  23

  Hailee

  I pulled my car into the driveway and killed the engine. Rummaging in my handbag, I found what I was looking for at the very bottom. Pulling a tissue from the packet, I wiped the tears from my eyes.

  No one needed to see me like this.

  It had been the Monday from hell, and I’d cancelled all plans for the night, including our usual Monday performance at Flirt. I’d also texted Devil to say I was going home to bed. I just wanted to curl into a ball and forget the world for the night.

  My phone buzzed with a text on the seat beside me.

  Dylan: You need me to go see that bitch and give her a piece of my mind.

  Me: Did Leona tell you what happened?

  I hadn’t told a soul. The only ones who knew were my workmates.

  The phone rang, and I answered it with a sigh. “I’m okay, Dylan. Really. I’m sorry I cancelled tonight’s gig, but I just don’t have it in me to smile and sing.”

  “Babe, I couldn’t give a fuck about the gig. Do you want me to come over? You could give me a massage, and I could tell you what a bitch Rachel is.”

  He never failed to make me laugh, even when I was down for the count. “I’m gonna have to find you a girlfriend who knows how to massage. Just so you quit begging me.”

  “Could be a good idea. I’m not thinking your boyfriend would be happy if your hands were always on me.”

  “Yeah, you might be on to something there.”

  “Okay, so I’m going to come over. No massage required.”

  The rumble of a bike distracted me, and I glanced out the window of the car to see Devil pulling his bike in behind me.