Man of the House: A Dark Bad Boy Romance

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Man of the House: A Dark Bad Boy Romance Page 50

by B. B. Hamel


  Only problem was, we were spaced weirdly. The deal wasn’t happening right in the middle of our loose ring. Worse, there were some guys directly across from me.

  But there was no time to rearrange.

  We started firing, and all hell broke loose.

  My gun felt like a hammer in my hand, summoning down death from the sky. I blasted the first Mezcal I saw, tearing his body into shreds. The other Mezcals standing around their bikes were torn to pieces by the others, and I quickly turned my fire onto the group in the middle.

  They scattered and tried to draw their weapons, but too slowly. I kept firing and lit them up, tearing their bodies into bloody shreds.

  Down toward the trucks, the dealers drew their weapons and actually started to return fire. I dropped to my stomach, getting down low, and fired at one of them, tearing up his leg. He dropped with a scream.

  The dealers fired back, but it was a slaughter. They weren’t ready for it at all, and we had automatic weapons. The number of bullets we were pumping into them more than made up for the difference in manpower.

  There was just nothing they could do. The scene was a bloody mess of screaming, dying men, and I felt my blood coursing through my body, excitement ripping through me. I lived for this, for the destruction of my enemies, the enemies of those I cared for.

  I couldn’t stop myself. I kept pulling that trigger, firing again and again, tearing into their bodies, killing them. They dropped one by one, and although a couple of the dealers tried to find cover behind their cars, we got them eventually.

  And as I fired, she came into my mind. Janine, her body, the way she looked at me earlier that morning, her shorts barely covering her amazing body, the sleep in her eyes. I was killing these men as much for her as I was for my club, maybe more. They were our enemies. They were the reason she was stuck in this fucking no-win situation, why I couldn’t have what I wanted.

  Again and again, bullets flying, bodies tearing apart.

  Finally, I heard another whistle, weak over the sound of guns blasting.

  I let go of the trigger, my weapon falling silent. The Mezcals and the dealers, they were all dead. The only sound was silence, the silence of death and destruction.

  “Fuck!” someone yelled. “Lavoy!”

  I stood up, scanning the area. Partially across the way from me was Lavoy. He was lying on his back, not moving.

  Burke was the one who had yelled, and he got to him fast, the rest of us just behind him. Lavoy was lying in his own blood, a bullet wound in his chest. He opened his mouth to gasp, to say something, but nothing came out.

  He was dead a minute later.

  “Shit,” Clinton said. “Fucking bastards.”

  “They’re all dead,” Larkin said. “He was a good solider.”

  “Fuck you,” Clinton said, getting in his face.

  I moved without thinking. I grabbed Clinton’s shoulder and slugged him in the jaw so hard that his head rocketed backward. He stumbled and dropped to the ground.

  Something tackled me then. It was Burke, the little ball of strength. He took both of us down to the ground, and he began to rain blows down at me. I blocked as many of them as I could, but he had blindsided me.

  Noble and Ford pulled him off me a second later, holding him back.

  “Calm down, fellas,” Larkin said. “We won this today.”

  “Bastard,” Clinton said, though his jaw sounded broken. “That bastard killed Lavoy.”

  “What’s that now?” Larkin asked.

  “I saw it. I saw him. He shot Lavoy.”

  I stared at Clinton as the man struggled to his feet.

  “I didn’t shoot your friend,” I said.

  “You fucking did,” Clinton said, moving toward me.

  “Careful,” Larkin warned, “or I’ll let Clutch finish the job.”

  I grinned as Clinton stopped.

  Burke, meanwhile, calmed down. Ford let him go, and he stepped toward Clinton. “Are you sure?” Burke asked.

  “I saw it,” he said again. “I saw him do it.”

  Burke looked at me. “Did you?”

  “No,” I said.

  Burke shook his head. “Fuck this, Larkin. Fuck you.”

  “Calm down, Burke,” Larkin said. “The boy said he didn’t do it, so he didn’t. You see the way we were set up? Clinton probably thought it was Clutch since Lavoy was so close to him.”

  “It was him,” Clinton said again.

  “Talk again and I’ll fucking kill you,” Ford growled at the man, shutting him up.

  Burke shook his head again. “I didn’t like this from the fucking start. You had no goddamn plan. The only reason this worked at all was because of me.”

  “This happened last minute,” Larkin said, getting that dangerous look in his eye. “If you’re accusing me, say it.”

  Burke looked like he wanted to speak, but he bit his tongue instead.

  “Guys,” Dow called out. We all looked toward him. He was holding up a bag, a huge grin on his face. “Check this shit out.”

  We walked over and gathered around. Inside the bag Dow was holding was a bunch of heroine, the pure shit we hadn’t been able to get ahold of since the war had started.

  In the other bags was cash. Lots of fucking cash.

  Dow was grinning hugely. “Big fucking score,” he said, laughing.

  Burke nodded, but his face remained dark.

  “Load it up,” Larkin said. Dow and Noble grabbed the bags and began walking back toward our bikes. They were parked a good ways away, covered in brush.

  Larkin looked at Burke. “Get your boy under control,” he warned.

  “I’m not sure I want to.”

  “You think accusing us of killing your guy is a good idea?”

  “I’m not sure,” he said. “But if you did it, you’ll pay.”

  Larkin got in Burke’s face. “Listen to me, you little twat. We worked hard to set this up, and some dumb fucking monkey isn’t going to ruin it for us. You think we’d risk all this killing just one of your fucking dumb goons?”

  Burke didn’t back down. “I don’t know what you’re capable of, Larkin, but none of this was my idea.”

  “True. It was your fucking president’s, so respect his commands and stop being a stupid cunt.”

  Burke stared down Larkin for a second and then stepped away. He looked at me. “Better watch yourself, Clutch.”

  I smiled sweetly at him. “You know where to find me, cocksucker.”

  He walked away, back toward the bikes. Clinton followed him, and I gave Clinton a little wave.

  Ford and Larkin walked over to me.

  “Don’t antagonize them,” Larkin said.

  “Fuck it,” Ford broke in. “Fuck them. I never liked this.”

  Larkin looked at me. “Did you do it? Tell me honest.”

  “I didn’t,” I said. “The guy was practically across from me. If a stray shot hit him, it was a real mistake.” I paused and shook my head. “But it didn’t. I’m a good shot.”

  “I know,” Larkin said. “Come on.” He headed back toward the bikes.

  Ford clapped my shoulder. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “We’ll work it out.”

  “I’m not worried. I’m annoyed.”

  Ford laughed. “Yeah, that’s typical of you. Quick to get pissed, but you never know what’s good for you.”

  We walked back toward the bikes together.

  I didn’t know what the fuck was happening, but I hadn’t shot that dumb asshole. Maybe the whole thing was a setup from the start, just an excuse for something bad to happen. Maybe the Rebels wanted to force a little chaos in our midst.

  But I couldn’t imagine they’d kill their own guy for it. No, this was just a random, unfortunate, bullshit accident. I hadn’t killed Lavoy, but they were all willing to pin it on me.

  Didn’t matter. The bastards would say what they wanted. I welcomed it, frankly. It might give me a chance to fuck a few more of those assholes up in the long run
.

  I got to my bike, setting it right and cleaning it off. We got on and kicked our engines to life.

  There was suspicion between the clubs, but now it was only going to get a lot worse. With Janine in the position she was in, I was going to have to be extra careful. Now she might be in danger from the Rebels, too.

  We rode back toward the club, much richer, but in much more danger.

  23

  Janine

  I woke up for the second time that morning, and for a second, I forgot that Clutch had left. I got out of bed and was about to leave my room before I remembered his visit.

  I grabbed a robe and wrapped it around my body. I didn’t want the pledges to see me in just a tiny old T-shirt and short little shorts.

  TomTom looked up as I walked out into the main room.

  “Morning,” he said. “Clutch told you?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “He told me you’d be here.”

  He nodded. “They had a job to do this morning.”

  I walked into the kitchen and poured myself a mug of coffee. Slip nodded at me, sipping from his own mug. I leaned up against the counter.

  “Well,” I said, “where’d they go?”

  “Can’t say,” Slip answered.

  “Club business?”

  “You know the drill.”

  I sighed, sipping my coffee. I shouldn’t have been surprised that they couldn’t tell me, but it did annoy me more than I would have guessed. Normally I was used to them not telling me anything, but now it felt like I was involved. I was a part of this now, even if I wasn’t an actual Demons member.

  Still, it wasn’t their fault that they couldn’t tell me anything. They were just pledges after all. They had no power or anything to make decisions like that.

  “I’m going to shower,” I said, “and then you two are taking me over to the club.”

  “Why?” TomTom asked. “Most people will be gone.”

  I stared at him. “Is it your job to protect me or to ask questions?”

  He grinned. “You got it, boss.”

  I smiled back. “That’s more like it.”

  I walked off to get a shower and heard the two boys laughing as I left the room.

  Just like TomTom had predicted, the clubhouse was pretty empty. I wasn’t sure if that was because most of the guys were out on the job or if it was just too early.

  Still, despite that, there were a few guys I didn’t recognize sitting around at tables. I felt a knot tighten in my stomach, and I wondered what I was doing there without Clutch.

  “Janine!” I looked over, surprised to hear a familiar voice calling my name.

  Caralee was sitting at a table near the bar, waving me over. I walked over, feeling genuinely excited to see her.

  Caralee was probably my closet friend in the club. I first met her a while back when she stumbled into our lives, causing an uproar in the club. She ended up married to Ford and giving birth to his little, adorable babies.

  This morning Caralee was without babies. She smiled as I sat down across from her.

  “How are you doing, girl?” she asked.

  “I’m good. Haven’t seen you in here in awhile.”

  “I’ve had my hands full.”

  “How are the kids?”

  “Amazing,” she said. “And it feels even better now that I have a break from them.”

  I laughed. “Are you just hanging around here?”

  “Waiting for Ford to get back,” she said. “You know me. I always worry when he’s out.”

  “I hear you. It’s not an easy life.”

  “No, but it’s club above everything, right?”

  I laughed. “Right.”

  “What are you drinking?”

  “Coffee.”

  Caralee waved at the pledge working the bar, and he brought over a mug for me. I didn’t recognize him, but I didn’t have the brain space to learn his name just yet.

  “So, I’ve heard some things,” Caralee said, leaning toward me.

  I frowned. “Like what?”

  “Like you’re claimed, and there’s a new club getting patched over.”

  “That’s all true, yeah.”

  She nodded slowly. “And you’re not happy about it.”

  “No, I guess not.”

  “What’s his name again?”

  “Jetter,” I said. “You know him.”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “Listen, Caralee—”

  “You don’t have to explain,” she said quickly. I had forgotten that Caralee had a bad history with Jetter. “All of that was a long time ago.”

  “Still. I want you to understand.”

  “Okay. Make me understand then.”

  “It’s for the club. Because of this war, guys are dying. If we can get the Rebels on our side, well, we can win sooner. That’s what this marriage is about.”

  “Honey,” Caralee said softly, “I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

  I cocked my head. “Why do you say that?”

  “Haven’t you noticed?” she asked. “Just look around.”

  So I did. I looked around the room, and nothing seemed particularly strange. I shook my head as I turned back toward her. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

  “I know I haven’t been around much, but look at how the guys are sitting. The Rebels and the Demons, they’re not mixing. They hate each other, Janine. They don’t want to be near each other, let alone in the same club.”

  I sighed. “I know that. My marriage is supposed to help.”

  “What do they care about a marriage?”

  “They care about their president.”

  Caralee shrugged, a skeptical look on her face. “I guess. I’m sorry, Janine. I know I’m being such a jerk right now. I just want to see you happy.”

  I sighed, smiling softly. Caralee was just about the nicest person I knew, and it was hard to be angry with her, even when she was telling me something difficult that I didn’t want to hear.

  “I know,” I said. “I don’t think I’m unhappy.”

  “Why wouldn’t you be? You’re going to be married to that piece of shit.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “Probably. But I don’t know; I’m just not unhappy.”

  And that was a strange realization. As soon as I said it, I knew that I was only hanging on because I had Clutch.

  For as frustrating as he was, for the danger that put us in, I didn’t care. Being around Clutch made me feel things I could barely put into words.

  Caralee was looking at me. “Hello, Janine? I said, what’s keeping your spirits up?”

  “Can’t say,” I admitted. “It could get me and someone else in a lot of trouble.”

  She leaned back in her chair, grinning at me. “Oh. I see.”

  “I can’t say more than that.”

  “You don’t have to.” She leaned in toward me. “What are you going to do?”

  “About what?”

  “Don’t pretend like we both don’t know what’s going on now,” she said. “You’re having an affair with Clutch.”

  I nearly choked on my coffee. “I’m that obvious?”

  “Yeah, basically,” she said. “He’s your bodyguard, he’s hot, you two have always been friendly, and suddenly you’re happy, despite all this shit?” She shrugged. “Doesn’t take a genius to figure that out.”

  “Caralee, if you tell anyone, both of us could be killed.”

  “Relax,” she said. “I would never want to see my friends killed, or the guys they’re into.”

  “That’s the thing, I don’t even know if I’m into him. Things are complicated.”

  “They always are.”

  “It’s not like I can do anything about it.”

  “You’re not married yet, are you?”

  “No.”

  “Then you can do whatever you want.”

  “You know it doesn’t work like that,” I said with a sigh.

  “Because you’re ‘claimed’ or whatever
? Screw that,” she said. “I was claimed once. It’s bullshit.”

  I laughed, shaking my head. She was so strong, and it always amazed me. “You know it means something to them.”

  “Yeah, them.” She made a face. “Screw them and their rules.”

  “I wish.”

  “Listen, Janine. You know me. I’m in this club for life now.”

  I laughed. “Yeah. You had club babies.”

  “I’m a damn old lady. But, I think you should make a move before you’re really tied down. Before you’re married.”

  I frowned at that. “I can’t. I have to help this merger happen.”

  “Did your father tell you that?”

  “No,” I said quickly. “Larkin told me I can get out whenever I want.”

  “So get out,” she said softly, “before it’s too late.”

  I looked at her for a second but only shook my head. “Thanks for listening,” I said.

  “Of course. Tell me about your wild life anytime. I’m a boring, married girl now.”

  I laughed, and the conversation switched over to something a little more normal, like raising her children.

  As the morning wore on and we talked more and more, I kept feeling so conflicted over everything. I knew Caralee had my best interests at heart. Was she right that if I waited too long, it would be too late? Maybe I really was going to be trapped with Jetter, always wanting something else but never able to put my hands on it.

  And maybe this was going to fall apart anyway. If I thought about it, I’d never seen any Rebel or Demon spend any time together, except for maybe Clutch throwing guys out of the club. It had been all tension from day one, and it hadn’t broken up at all.

  Maybe the Rebels and the Demons really did hate each other too much for this to ever work out. If that was the case, then I really was wasting my time. I really was sacrificing myself for absolutely nothing.

  But no, I made a decision. I made a choice and I committed myself to it. My father didn’t force me into this, and all the reasons I started it still mattered.

  It felt good, talking with Caralee, trying to forget my problems, but I couldn’t run from them.

  I wasn’t going to run from them.

 

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