by A. J. Downey
Rush
We got the call about three hours later that Trig and Reave had located the dude watching the farm and had taken him to Point Nowhere. It was a bummer finding out it was an inside man. An even bigger bummer to find out it was Jorge.
I should have seen that one, honestly. The dude was a little too eager to step up when Renaldo had gone down for the count. Reave and Trig were gonna sit on him. See what they could do to get Jorge on board with our way of thinkin’ and flip him. Either way, Jorge was going to help us by feeding the fuckwits what we wanted while we moved shit around.
There wasn’t any telling if any of the other guys were on the douche’s payroll, so we had to wait until everyone had gone home to do anything. I’d taken on the responsibility of sleeping in the stables that night so no one had a reason to be around. It was a responsibility everyone had been keen on skipping out on in favor of a good night’s sleep, so that worked out well.
It was both a blessing and a surprise when Marion Cranston’s crew showed up at around eleven o’clock at night to help get things moved out. We worked all night, too. Right up ‘til dawn, and had no trouble at all, even when it came to Starry Eyed Dreamer, the super pregnant mare. It was a hell of a thing, moving all that horseflesh in one night. An even bigger thing that even as we were moving the thoroughbreds out, we had lesser bred but similar in appearance horse stock coming in to replace the five or so client horses we were boarding. We were fortunate that it was the time of year that it was and that anything that was racing was either on the circuit or with their owners. It wasn’t the right time of year for active breeding, which was a bonus.
Trig and Reave were calling in with regular updates on their progress on the burner. Jorge was swearing up and down that there wasn’t anyone else at the farm that was feeding information to the Giangiulio Development Group, the GDG for short, but we weren’t going to take any chances on this end.
Add to that, for once, we were actually working with the cops. Well, Bailey’s mom was. She went in with a pile of paperwork to the local sheriff’s department and demanded to speak with detectives. She brought a thumb drive with everything her ‘private investigator’ had uncovered to boot. She and Data had signed and backdated a bunch of contracts and paperwork so everything on that front was legit and above board. He had his PI’s license even though he didn’t much use it, and the backing of some big security firm that he worked for as a day job. Mostly as a ‘consultant’ read; hacker. Again, not all of what Data had dug up would stand up in court, but Bailey and her mom’s lawyers had it all and it was the lawyer’s job to make shit stick, not anyone else’s.
It’d been a long, long, day after that. Bailey and I couldn’t afford to sleep during the day and tip any of the guys coming in that we’d been up to anything. We’d managed to get through the day with Bailey runnin’ the show and the excuse that Jorge was out sick with some kind of summer cold. It hadn’t been pretty, but we powered through on coffee and I think even a prayer or two.
Finally, fuckin’ finally, the last of ‘em left. Now it was just us and the quiet of an empty house.
“I’m ordering a pizza,” Bailey said and I nodded, kicking back in a chair at the dining room table. She stared at me for a long minute and it took me forever to fuckin’ realize it wasn’t me she was staring at with that vacant look, but rather the place I was sitting at.
“Call for the pizza, baby.” I told her and she snapped out of whatever waking nightmare she’d been in.
“Then what?” she asked suspicious.
“Then I’m going to lay you on this tabletop and lick that sweet pussy. I wanna see if I can make you come in thirty minutes or less.”
She scoffed and laughed, her amused and incredulous expression melting away to total disbelief. “You’re serious,” she said finally and I nodded. “Why?”
“Replace the bad with the good,” I gave a shrug. “At least I’d like to try anyways.”
She came over to me then and straddled my lap, lowering herself into it. She pressed her mouth to mine and the kiss was everything and nothing I’d ever experienced before. I wrapped my arms around her and held her to me, tongues mingling, bodies pressed tight. She broke the kiss and I smiled, amused and said, “Call for that pizza then get your fuckin’ pants off.”
“Sausage and pepperoni okay?” she asked breathlessly.
“Don’t fuckin’ care,” I whispered.
She stood up and tucked the phone between her chin and shoulder pulling off her boots while it rang. She fuckin’ strip teased the entire time she was ordering, all the while her voice innocent and her wide brown eyes full of mischief. As soon as she hung up the damn phone, I snatched her off her feet. She squealed, laughing and I set her on the edge of the table, nudging the dining room chair out of the way. I knelt between her legs, shoulders bracing her knees apart. Her chest rose and fell with heated breaths as I licked her, one long slow stroke of the flat of my tongue.
“Oh, god!” her voice deep with desire, she arched and I teased her opening with my fingertips. Oh yeah, she was wet, ready, this was going to be a snap. I wondered if I could make her come twice before the pizza guy got here and thrust two fingers inside her. She groaned, her hands sliding over her body, smoothing over the fabric encasing her torso provocatively.
I teased around inside of her, looking for that secret spot that if you were a dude and had half a fuckin’ brain when it came to sex, wasn’t a secret at all. She moaned, her hips arching when I found it and I couldn’t help but smile. I worked her up, stroking over that slightly more textured patch of skin just inside and on her roof. She sighed, and gripped the front of her blouse, knotting her fingers in the cotton.
I teased gently at her clit with my tongue and she let out a rush of breath and a soft, “Holy shit!” Which meant I was doin’ something right, so I kept at it. Her breathing steadily ramping up and becoming more labored, her pussy tensing down around my fingers, a sure sign I was definitely going to beat the delivery time and I was definitely going for doing it twice.
She arched and cried out sharply, her body going as taut as one of Archer’s bowstrings and I smiled, backing off so she didn’t clamp her legs around my head and suffocate me. Don’t laugh, it’s happened, usually with alcohol involved. Bailey finally went limp, spent and panting on the table.
“Oh, my god!” she gasped and I chuckled.
“Ride ain’t over yet, baby.”
“What?”
I didn’t answer, I just went back to work.
Her body arched, and she let out a long, low cry of passion just as the doorbell rang. I win, I thought to myself as I got up, wiping the back of my hand across my mouth. I opened the door to a wide eyed pizza delivery kid, took the box and handed him a fifty out of my wallet. All the while he tried to peek around the door that kept my woman hidden. I smiled and said, “Thanks kid,” and shut the door on his curious face.
Bailey lay breathing hard, sprawled on the table, eyes slightly unfocused and glazed, staring at the ceiling. I smiled and dropped the box at the head of the table and went around to the side, leaning over her.
“How you doing, baby?” I asked softly.
“Good,” she moaned, head lolling languidly on her neck to look at me.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, just give me a minute.”
“Oh no, no, you take your time.” She was floatin’ and I smiled, putting my hand under her shirt to caress her ribs. She closed her eyes and shivered at the little touch. I waited patiently until she went to sit up, then I helped her.
“That was hot,” she said and I laughed.
“What can I say? I like my dessert first.”
“Mm,” she gestured and I bent down to kiss her. She kissed me back and it was beautiful.
“I love you,” she whispered uncertainly against my mouth and it was music to my ears.
“I love you, too, babe.”
I considered her, sitting there, sex tousled, her eyes dilated with aft
erglow and lips swollen from my kiss and pulled off my tee. I helped her out of her blouse, little tank top thing, and bra and slid my shirt over her head.
“Sit right there, I’ll get plates.”
She nodded, swinging her feet a little and I brought over plates and the little bleach disinfecting wipes from under the sink to clean up. It was a good way to spend our evening. I had no complaints.
A long shower together to relax us both the rest of the way, and for once I was too tired to even try to get mine. We fell into bed and were both out like a traffic light inside two seconds. I think that’s why it took so long for me to come to. To realize something was even wrong. Bailey was shaking me, and the room was illuminated by the orange glow of fire.
I sat up, just as the next bottle crashed against the front of the house, and just like in the fuckin’ movies, it went up with a ‘fwoosh’ sound that was just fucking unbelievable. I leapt out of bed, Bailey already up and pulling on my discarded shirt, grabbing up her phone. I pulled on my pants and grabbed my gun off the nightstand. I looked around for a half a second, still a bit disoriented from sleep, and grabbed my cut off the wingback chair, swinging it on over my bare chest.
“Come on, let’s go!”
I grabbed her hand and we bolted out of the room for the front door. Flames were already licking on the other side of the glass window set high into it, so we turned tail and bolted for the back door, just as what looked like a flaming mason jar crashed through the fucking back window. It shattered on the hardwood and the flames lit up the inside of the house, effectively blocking our escape, the fire leaping up, the heat and adrenaline already having me break out in a sweat.
“The barn!” Bailey choked out between coughs and we ran for the door that adjoined the house to the smaller barn. I put my cut between my hand and the knob and gave it a twist, not knowing what to expect and hoping like hell it wasn’t on fucking fire out here too. My eyes watered and stung from the smoke pouring through the house. A mix of campfire and burning plastic assaulting my nose, overwhelming in its intensity.
I pulled open the door and nothing, smoke poured into the barn from the open door behind us, but it wasn’t on fire in here… yet.
“Get in the truck,” I ordered and Bailey went for the driver’s seat, already on her phone, talking fast, almost too fast, having to stop and repeat herself to the emergency operator on the other side. We’d parked one of the farm trucks in here, backing it in in case of emergency. I think this more than qualified.
“Yes, I already said that, we’re trapped inside!” Bailey cried into the phone and I went to the barn doors and unbolted them, just as the sound of breaking glass hit the other side. Again with that sound of flame catching on accelerant. I shook my head and went back to the truck and got in on the passenger side.
“Punch it, go through it; don’t stop, Bailey.”
She cried, aghast. “What!?”
“It’s on fire, now go through it!”
She pulled down on the shifter, putting the automatic in drive and popped the emergency brake.
“God, I hope this works!” she cried and romped on the gas. I hoped so too, the barn doors opened out, so it was a fair chance we’d make it out just fine but not so much if these assholes started shooting at us.
We hit the doors and they crashed outwards, the truck lumbering through and out into the night. A pop and a ping, and fuck me swinging, they were shooting at us.
“Just keep going, baby! Don’t stop!”
Bailey ducked low over the steering wheel and cried out when there was a loud explosion, the truck swerved in the gravel and she fought the wheel. They’d hit a tire, fuck…
“Ride it on the rim!” I cried, “Don’t stop!” The back window shattered and I turned around in my seat, knocking it out. The house and barn were in flames, and I mean roaring total loss flames. I finished knocking out a bigger hole in the back window’s safety glass and couldn’t see anything to shoot at but returned fire anyways, popping off two rounds, hoping the motherfuckers would dive for cover.
Bailey kept going, in the initial chaos, while we could still breathe, she’d called fire and rescue. Who the fuck knew if they would get here in time to mitigate any damage to the house and honestly, who the fuck cared? I was more concerned with keeping us alive long enough for the cavalry to arrive, be it fire and rescue or my brothers.
Another pop, and the driver’s side window, Bailey’s window, shattered, a bullet hole punching through the windshield. She screamed, overcorrected and we went into a skid on the gravel drive. I flung out an arm to pin her back against the seat as the truck careened into the ditch off the side of the driveway and went right into the goddamn split log fence of the second paddock. I pulled Bailey across the bench seat, toward me, the truck was leaning pretty heavy to my side and at an angle, providing some decent cover if we could get out and use it to our advantage. I needed to get Bailey to cover before something happened to her.
She slid out of the truck and into my arms and I ducked down, looking for our assailants. They were good, pro’s if I had to guess. Sirens were wailing in the distance and I peeked over the bed of the truck. Lights were flashing out on the highway, still a good distance from the mouth of the driveway. A shot rang out and I ducked. It pinged off the side of the truck and Bailey screamed, huddling in a tight ball against the back tire. I popped up and returned fire, but I still couldn’t see what the fuck I was supposed to be shooting at.
I pulled Bailey into my arms and held her as the sirens drew nearer and the hidden threat melted back further into the dark. I pressed the gun into Bailey’s hands and said, “My brother, Nox, lent this to you because of the threats. You got it?”
She nodded dumbly and I pressed her close, holding onto her tight as gravel pinged the other side of the truck, the fire truck lumbering past to set up and start working on the blaze. We were saved, after a fashion, but the motherfuckers that’d done this? They best be afraid. I was coming for them, and I was bringing hell with me.
Chapter 26
Bailey
The sheriff’s deputy and a paramedic found us crouched behind the truck and once again they tried to put Rush in handcuffs, simply judging him by his vest. I started screaming at them to leave him alone and clung to him and that seemed to settle things down. My house, along with the attached smaller barn were burning in the near distance and I was helpless, forced to watch as my life, livelihood, and sense of safety burned to cinders with it.
I was sitting on the back step of an ambulance, Rush curled around me, wrapped in one of those Mylar blankets and shivering despite the warmth of the evening. Rush tightened his hold around me as Uncle Dragon, Dray, and a few of the other men of the Sacred Hearts pulled up. Nox was the first to reach us, crushing both me and Rush into a hug.
“You okay, man?” he demanded and looked so relieved I thought there might be tears.
“Yeah, fine.”
“Do you mind?” the paramedic asked. Nox backed off and she went back to work, dabbing at a cut in my hairline from flying glass from the truck.
“She alright?” Dragon called and the paramedic turned with a scowl.
“He’s my uncle,” I said by way of explanation and she looked perplexed for a second.
“You don’t look Mexican,” she said, and I didn’t even have it in me to feel outraged.
I rolled my eyes and added, “By marriage.”
“Oh,” she was turning bright pink under the glare of the lights from the back of the truck and the incendiary look she was getting from my uncle and cousin. We ignored her pretty much completely after that.
“I’m fine, Uncle Dragon, just really shook up. Can someone check on the horses we have here?”
Archer grunted, “I’m on it,” and Rush unfurled from where he’d wrapped himself around me.
“I’ll go with him if you’re good.”
“I’m good, I’m good, just go check on them, please.” They may not have been the thoroughbreds wor
th hundreds of thousands of dollars, but they were real, living creatures and were probably terrified by the smoke. Guilt swamped me that I was using them the way I was.
Dray sat down next to me and grabbed my hand, squeezing. “You okay?” he asked low and controlled and I shook my head, staring past the paramedic tending my small cuts at my burning house.
“No, Dray-dray. I’m really not okay,” I confessed, if only to get them to stop asking.
“It’s just a house, sweetheart. We’ll rebuild it, it ain’t nothing compared to you or Rush. Our people, we can’t replace.”
“What am I going to do?” I whispered and my cousin put his arm around my shoulders. I leaned my head on his and took the comfort for what it was, remembering when we were kids, before my mother’s true colors had the chance to affect us and start the divide.
“You ain’t gotta do nothing except hold firm. We’ve got this now.” The look on my uncle’s face was terrifying. I don’t think I had ever seen it before. What was more terrifying was the look on my cousin’s face, one that mirrored his father’s near exactly. Both of them had the flames of the house reflected in their glittering black eyes and for a moment, I could believe it wasn’t a reflection so much as the hell of wrath projected from within themselves. I shuddered and Reaver came up.
“I got Hayden bringing a cage to take you back to the club,” he said. I shook my head.
“I have my truck.”
“Honey, your truck is sitting in the ditch over there, the front end pushed in by the fence.” It was a redheaded man who’d spoken. He raised a Bic lighter to the cigarette dangling from his lips and cupping the flame, lit the end taking a strong pull off of it.
“That’s the farm truck. My truck is in the garage,” I told him.
“Well excuse the fuck out of me,” he said.
“Cell,” Dragon’s tone held a note of warning and the guy turned neutral brown eyes on him but didn’t comment any further.
“Impressive,” I muttered to my uncle, and the man said, “Ain’t got nothin’ to do with obedience. Don’t get it twisted. I just really want to be tagged in on this.”
