The car was his grandfather’s and he’s trying to bring it back to life. This is the only thing from his family he has left really. Yes, he currently lives in the camper he grew up in because it was just him and his Gramps. They didn’t need much space. Gramps had the tow behind camper and the El Camino. He died last year and this is Hawk’s life outside of the club a busted place to sleep and a car in dire need of repair.
Hawk’s fine with it so I’m good with it too. He said no need to waste his money on an apartment when the land is paid for. The utilities are shit because he lives in a camper.
Hawk was living the tiny house life long before the craze.
I don’t even get my hands washed when my phone starts ringing. Moving to the toolbox, I lift the phone and swipe the screen not recognizing the number, but going on alert seeing it as a Chicago area code. Did Yesnia get a new number is my instant thought?
“Yo,” I answer.
“Double,” he says my roadname with his thick Hispanic accent. “Javier Almanza, and I need you to come to Chicago immediately.”
I laugh. “I’m not big on takin’ orders from a Cartel boss. My loyalty is to my club.”
Which is the truth, but the other truth is if Yesnia was the one on this phone, I’d be packing a bag and hitting the road without hesitation. I don’t bother to tell Javier this though. Frankly, I don’t like the man. I don’t hate him, but he leaves me feeling uneasy.
His world is full of danger, uncontrollable variables, and too many moving parts. In the Cartel life, if the head of the Cartel is dead, the person committing the crime is respected.
Where is the loyalty in that?
In fact, depending on who puts out the hit or executes it, they may take over the Cartel.
What honor is there in that?
Where is the respect for your leader that in the blink of an eye with their last breath, it could be a complete shift in leadership?
No, that is not the life for me.
“I will get the approval from your President. I will cover the costs of your absence. I have a situation here that needs your attention,” he pauses.
I don’t take the bait. Therefore, I don’t reply.
We sit in awkward silence.
Two men waiting.
What does he want with me? Why is it always me?
I understand I know Yesnia because we have a connection, but really a man in his power sending for a biker … it doesn’t make sense.
“Personally. I’ll give you a marker. Whatever it takes, I need you here.” There is this hint of desperation in his tone.
Desperate men make mistakes.
“Yeah, what exactly is it that you need me for that would get my attention enough to come? You should know, Almanza, I don’t give a fuck about your money. Even more, I don’t give a fuck about your power, position, or any leverage you think you may or may not have over me or my club.”
He sighs. I feel the weight of whatever he’s going through come through the phone. “Yesnia has asked for you,” he tells me and that single sentences changes everything for me.
I don’t dare share this with him, though. “Yeah, well she has my number.”
He doesn’t respond quickly which surprises me. I’m baffled, but I’m now curious.
“She can’t.” Finally, he speaks even though I don’t like his words. His tone is laced in defeat.
Immediately, I go on alert. This doesn’t feel right. His energy, his tone, it all screams last resort. If Yesnia needs me, she can call herself. What is Javier playing at?
“She’s been injured.”
Fury hits me like a punch to the gut. “What do you fuckin’ mean injured?”
I don’t live the kind of life where a woman gets hurt under my care and I call an outsider for help. Maybe that’s Cartel life. Maybe that’s just Almanza. I don’t know and I don’t give a damn, but what I do know is that shit doesn’t happen in my world.
He chokes out the words, “She’s been shot. She’s stable, but it’s been touch and go. She’s in the hospital but we are moving her to a private place with staff for her needs. I need to go find Maricio and I need to know my daughter is safe in my absence. You are the one she is asking for. Every time she wakes up, she says your name and your name only.”
“You let her get shot and I haven’t even been gone two full days. Almanza, you fucked up.” The fury inside me is rising. The pain that she’s injured is building with every passing second.
“I’m going to seek vengeance, but first she is the priority. She’s asking for you.”
“Shut up,” I tell him. I don’t need to hear another word. His business is his business. His faults and shortcomings in keeping her safe are on him. There will be no absolution for his soul even if he finds his revenge. I don’t share this with him either. Frankly, I don’t need to know what the fuck he’s going to do. In fact, I don’t need to know one motherfucking thing about Javier Almanza. No, I simply need to get my ass to her. “I’ll be in touch.”
I end the call with him and immediately dial my father.
Looks like I’m going back to Chicago.
Part 2
Prologue
Axel
One Year Later
I was raised to take the road less traveled … only no one said it would lead to heartache and headaches the entire way.
In my teens, I thought I was invincible.
Through my twenties, I’ve learned even Super Man couldn’t withstand kryptonite. Everyone has a downfall. Only, the lesson my twenties gifted me with is my one true weakness.
One woman.
She has me wrapped in a way I can’t shake no matter how much I know I need to.
Yes, my weakness is a Spanish beauty with a fucked-up history I can’t seem to tear her away from.
It’s stupid really. Why I’m holding on even I can’t answer. Maybe it’s the need to heal a broken soul. Maybe it’s a hero complex.
They say your formative years mold you.
My formative years were spent watching my mom fight.
First, she fought to stand on her own two feet with me in tow. Back then, I didn’t see it but growing up, I learned.
My dad was a fucking asshole who thought more about his dick than paying attention to the things around him. Which is how my mom kept me hidden for six years while they were still fucking. She was waiting.
Busting her ass, working herself to the ground, all while she was waiting for him to wake up.
Only he didn’t.
Then my mom was hurt.
I watched that pain gnaw at her inside. Then I watched Shooter come in and heal her.
Save her.
And me too.
Maybe that’s why I want to hold onto Yesnia. I know the danger she’s in even if she doesn’t. I know how quickly things can go bad and I want to keep her from that pain.
Try as I may, she wouldn’t leave.
Fucked up part, I get it.
I absolutely, without a single argument, understand.
Family over everything. I have that shit tattooed on the right side of my chest close to my heart, not that I need the reminder, but it’s what I believe to my very core. Except her family is a special brand of fucked up.
Who would have thought the chick I met at a club on New Year’s Eve would end up a Cartel princess?
Hell, even she didn’t know it at the time. Fate is a funny bitch like that.
This is what I find myself wanting. The chick who loves me but not enough to walk away from the life she has. A woman who says she fears my world, but lives in one far less controlled.
Her father is Javier Almanza, kingpin of the Almanza Crime Family from Juarez, Mexico. Her mother is a woman who loved her father, hated him, and somehow fell in love all over again. Honestly, I don’t give a fuck about her parents. They put her in this shit-storm and didn’t shelter her from the elements. Their actions created the ripple effect that ended with more than tears being shed. The very blood of their only d
aughter pooling and absorbing into the cement on the driveway of their home didn’t wake them enough to know when they got their second chance, they should have let her be free.
If they had let go of their selfish needs to hold her close, they would have made sure she left with me. Even if they didn’t send her away, they could have encouraged what we shared. They didn’t, which only pisses me off more.
Is it selfish? Abso-fuckin-lutely. I want Yesnia here with me. I also know I can keep her safe in a way Javier cannot.
Yesnia Dominguez Almanza is a survivor of pain, betrayal, heartache, and deceit. She’s had enough bullshit; I want to give her a life on easy street. Only she won’t have it.
All for family … she says.
Even if I know it in my bones, her family is going to be her downfall, she’s having none of it.
She’s so strong, but she doesn’t see it. The fight in her eyes lures me in. There is a passion in her soul that keeps me in place. Even though she sent me home and told me to move on, I couldn’t and still can’t find a way to let go.
She’s got me hooked.
My mind goes back to New Year’s Eve at Bar Charlotte where it all began for us.
Channing “Hawk” Stevens and I leave to let off steam. We just got home from a four-day run where we had to remain alert and focused. Now it’s time for our release. That’s life in the Hellions Motorcycle Club.
We are two men in our mid-twenties, so pussy is a must on a regular basis. Our goal for the night is a bang. Hit it and quit it, as Hawk says. Hit it, get it, and go was my father’s motto. I don’t give a fuck how it’s put, bottom line I’m not in this shit for the long haul. I find I rather like this get it and move on lifestyle for myself as well. Either way, it’s spelled out, I am a one and done kind of man. I’m young and I don’t want to be tied down with an ol’ lady. I want to get laid and move on.
She catches my eye.
Wearing a barely-there, red, backless, halter dress with a deep V in the front, and heels, she catches my eye before my third shot.
Target acquired.
She’s ready to dance the night away with her friends. The music thumps and her hips sway. Typically, this night club shit isn’t our style. Nope, we find pussy at dive bars, or hell, even the gas station. That’s the thing about this cut I wear.
Sure, it’s responsibility.
It’s family.
It’s life.
It’s loyalty.
It’s everything.
Including death.
It’s also a free ticket to easy pussy.
Which I’m not complaining about, for damn sure.
Tonight, Hawk and I agreed, for the sake of our needy cocks, we would bump and grind until we could land a home run. We want a fresh taste, and that’s the goal tonight. New pussy. Hell, I’m even looking for that classy pussy just for tonight.
High maintenance broads aren’t my thing, but every once in a while, taking some chick that dresses to the nines and leaving her limp in a bed beside me is fun for my cock and my ego.
Fuck that broad like an animal, mess up her hair, her clothes, and her body. That’s what I crave tonight. Yes, I’m the fucker that wants to dirty the pretty one up.
My blond hair is back in a man bun. My worn jeans are comfortable and this black t-shirt fits like a glove, and my cut never leaves my body except when I sleep. Hawk and I toss back two more shots before I make my move to her group.
Coming up behind her I’m confident as I take my place at her back. I settle in, moving with her until her ass circles my crotch. She gives me a sideways glance, and I see the fire dancing in her brown eyes. Oh yeah, baby, tonight you are mine. With that thought, I grip her hips, pulling her hard to me so she can feel me.
Every fucking inch of me.
Her dark locks come down in waves, covering her exposed back. She whips her head around so her dark eyes meet my blue ones.
“What’s your name, sexy?” I ask.
“Yesnia,” she replies, and I swear I’m ready to come undone by her voice alone. Beautiful name for a beautiful woman.
Too much time on the road, I tell myself as she winks before she leans into me, giving me all the control.
Pussy is pussy, and I’ve had plenty. Never have I been this twisted without even a kiss or a touch. I push back the carnal drive to claim her right here in front of the whole club. The only reason I’m having such a reaction to her is because I’ve been doing Hellions shit without a release for too long.
She’s not special, I keep lying to myself. But there is something inside me that I can’t deny has me stuck on her. I can’t explain it, but she’s like a drug and I can’t get enough, even though I don’t fucking know a damn thing about her.
She’s another pussy, I tell my mind. She’s not some magical creature to lure me in and never let me go. Again, I lie to myself because it is absurd to think this is more than a hookup.
The music plays on and for the next hour, I dance with her, only taking a moment to toss back a shot here and there.
“Got me a hot biker,” she seductively says, turning to face me. She wraps one leg around me as her hands settle at my neck. I imagine her wrapped around me, naked. Fuck, she’s going to be a woman who gets more than one round with me. I can feel it.
Dropping my head, my lips hit hers, and electricity jolts through me. She moans, opening as my tongue presses on finding hers. Our bodies melt together, and she grinds against my crotch, making me need to be inside her more than I need to breathe. We find a rhythm as the vibrations of the bass move through the crowd.
My hands roam her body. Running up her thigh, I tease the edge of her dress. Moving up more, I cup her ass. Continuing to explore, I seek the string of a thong. When I don’t find the edge of panties, I stop breathing for a moment. No fucking way. I keep searching, only to find the woman in my arms devouring my mouth isn’t wearing any undergarments at all. My cock begs to sink inside her. With my free hand, I tease her tits through the deep V-neck of the front of her dress. She doesn’t have a bra on, and I tweak her nipples as she shamelessly grinds against me and I massage her ass.
My hand at the cup of her ass moves lower, and I slide a finger down to find her wet, dripping wet at that. With two fingers, I plunge into her heat with her leg wrapped high around my hip. She grabs my hair, releasing the band holding it back, before breaking from our kiss to cry out as her pleasure builds.
We grind in tune to the music playing. With the club so crowded no one is the wiser to the way I’m working her body against me.
Inhibitions gone, I finger fuck her to an orgasm all over my digits. Just when I’m ready to take her to a corner and fuck her senseless, she drops her leg and gives me a wink before bolting to the bathroom.
She left me hanging with a raging hard on, the most painful blue balls I’ve had in my life, and an emptiness that settled on my soul. In my teens when girls were scared to have sex and wanted to stop before things got that far, never had I been as turned on as Yesnia got me. That was all on the first night, and here we are two years later, same feelings, but the situation is completely different.
I’ve had a taste of her now. Spent months with her, getting to know her, watching her heal, and fucking tasting her. Like a drug I crave her. The withdrawals feel never ending. The need to be inside her once again, the feel of her skin against mine, the way she laughs, it all gets to me. Even her tears. I miss everything.
What kills me most? She thinks I don’t understand or I can’t understand.
Loyalty.
I more than comprehend the depths of the word. That shit pumps through my veins.
Passion.
I know the power in the depths of the emotion.
My loyalty and passion are tangled in her even when she sends me away time and again. Yesnia Dominguez Almanza is my kryptonite.
She and I had these precious few months together. Months where she healed from her gunshot wound and she learned who she really was. I stood by her si
de every step of the way as she took in her parents’ history. I loved her through her pain and her triumphs. I watched her overcome what should have been a fatal wound and come out stronger than before. She’s the most beautiful woman I know inside and out.
Yesnia is my distraction.
She is my downfall.
The problem? She knows it as much as I accept it. Except, she isn’t afraid to continue making me crumble time and time again.
1
Axel
The darkness of my mind threatens to swallow me whole sometimes.
Sitting on the stool, I lift the longneck bottle to my lips before I take a long pull of ice-cold Bud Light. The liquid rolls down my throat and settles deep in my belly.
“Fuck her outta your system, brother,” Hawk says from beside me.
If only it really was possible to simply fuck her away. To be honest, I haven’t tried. My dick doesn’t care to have pussy that’s not hers.
He doesn’t understand, no one does. “Not so simple,” I tell him taking another drink. Rock music plays in the background while the place fills with more Hellions. I block out all the noise wishing I was anywhere but here.
“Look, man, hate seeing you like this,” Hawk presses on.
He may be one of my closest friends and a brother to me in the Hellions Motorcycle Club, but right now, if he keeps this shit up, I might knock him the fuck out. I’m in no mood for more pep talks and half-assed attempts to be my wingman. I don’t want any of it.
I twist my torso to look at him. “Like what, exactly? I’m rock solid. So, tell me what is it you hate seeing me like?”
“Numb,” he states on a sigh, “you’re numb, Double.”
I give a half grunt. He is not wrong. I am numb. It’s not what he thinks though. It’s not what anyone thinks. Everyone assumes it’s about a broken heart.
Yes, it’s about her.
Moreover, it’s about me.
That’s what they don’t seem to get. She didn’t choose me. With everything screaming I was the right turn to make in her life, she sent me away … alone.
Bleed for It: Hellions Motorcycle Club (Hellions Ride On Book 3) Page 2
