by KB Winters
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Epilogue
Roddick
CAOS MC
By KB Winters
Copyright © 2017 BookBoyfriends Publishing LLC
Published By: BookBoyfriends Publishing LLC
Copyright and Disclaimer
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 BookBoyfriends Publishing LLC
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of the trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Contents
Roddick
Copyright and Disclaimer
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Epilogue
Free Book!
Acknowledgements
About The Author
Prologue
Roddick
“What the hell am I doing here?” I knew it was pointless to ask the question since I was clearly inside an interrogation room with one of those mirrors we’re supposed to pretend doesn’t have a shit ton of agents on the other side of it, uncomfortable metal chairs, and even the fucking swinging light bulb overhead. I was sitting inside a fucking stereotype. But I asked anyway because I hadn’t done shit wrong. “If you don’t have shit to say, I’m requesting a lawyer and invoking my right to remain silent.” Assholes thought they could bully me, but they would soon learn I was no chump.
The door finally opened and two suits walked in to the dimly lit room, the yellow tinged bulb flickering. Suit number one was a chick with red hair pulled into a ponytail, big green eyes, and freckles that made her look all of fifteen. The other dude might as well have been Captain fucking America with his slicked back blond hair and sharp blue eyes. They both wore ill-fitting suits that marked them as government agents rather than corporate types. “You’re in no position to make demands,” the redhead said.
I stared at her as though she hadn’t said a word. I was off fighting for Uncle Sam before she was even born, and I didn’t intimidate easily. Too bad for her. “Am I leaving, or is somebody gonna tell me what the fuck I’m doing here?”
The man took the seat across from me and pulled out a manila folder, a move I’d seen more than a few cops make over the years. In the movies. “I’m Agent Jack Brockton and that’s Molly Johnson. We’re part of a new task force assembled to deal with the cartels.” He laid out several photos of a truck burning in the desert. “This truck was found just outside of San Diego. Inside we found twenty people, still being identified. We’re pretty sure this truck belongs to the Mexican Devils.”
It wouldn’t surprise me if it did. The cartel’s main business was drugs, mostly heroin, but they also had houses of girls and women all over the country. “What does this have to do with me? I’m doing my part to keep this shit from crossing the border, you Feds are the ones falling down on the job.” Arms crossed, I waited for them to deny it and pretend they gave a damn.
Agent Pollyanna, I meant Molly, leaned forward with what was supposed to be a scowl on her face. “You’re not exactly on the right side of the law, are you?”
I leaned back and gave her my most charming grin. “If that was true, sweetheart, you’d have me in bracelets and trying to leverage some type of compromise, so cut the shit and tell me what you want.” I could tell she didn’t like my tone, but I didn’t give a damn. I didn’t like her tone either.
Brockton laughed and leaned back, kicking up his feet and crossing them at the ankles. He laid out photos of two more trucks burned to a crisp and photos of CAOS carrying Minx from that warehouse while some Devils took care of the trash that used to belong to our club, Wagman and Rocky. “We know what your club has been up to which is why we leave you alone. But now we need you boys to help us out, because this shit has gotten too big.”
“I’m listening.” Captain America was right about one thing, the Mexican Devils had been sending more drugs into the U.S. and more people into Mexico.
“We need your club to start taking shipments of drugs from the cartel so we can trace the drugs, but more importantly, we need to trace the cash. See where it turns up.”
I heard what he wasn’t saying loud and clear. “You think Lazarus has a boss.” Cash thought the same thing after meeting Lazarus, but I’d keep that info to myself. For now.
Agent Johnson sighed and got in my face. Again. “Don’t worry about what we think.”
“Call off your girl, Brockton.” She was seriously testing my patience with her Chihuahua routine. I didn’t believe in punching women, but this was no woman—she was a cop—a cop getting on my last nerve.
“We do,” Brockton answered, hardly sparing her a glance. “But we don’t know who it is, so we need to see where the money ends up. That’s where you come in.”
“And the club will be immune from anything done to help your task force?”
“Yep.”
“Maybe,” answered Pollyanna.
I stood and towered over the fiery redhead. “If that’s the case, I’ll take my chance with whatever dirt you think you have on me and my club.” I didn’t need this shit seeing as my guys were doing what the fucking Feds should be doing in the first place. “Good luck.”
“Wait!” Brockton stood and glared at Johnson before turning back to me. “Full immunity. Just do some deals and get us what we need.”
“I need to talk to the club first but yeah, okay.” Brockton held out his hand, and I took it. Dealing with him would be easier than the girl because guys like Brockton shot straight and only cared about getting the bad guys. “Get the paperwork drawn up. You’ll hear from me soon.”
“Make us wait too long and we’ll find a reason to do this with handcuffs.” Johnson was a real ballbuster but not even in a good way. One of those women who thought acting like a man was the best way. She probably had a set of cojones under that suit.
“Try it and I’ll tip off Lazarus.” With a whistle, I walked away.
Chapter One
Cherie
It wasn’t even midnight yet and the ER was already a madhouse—no, it was at least three steps up from a madhouse. And the worst part? It was only Thursday which meant it was too damn early for all the craziness. My shift started at ten since we were on twelve hour shifts to accommodate the fact that we were the only hospital around after two others had closed in the past decade. Already four gunshot wounds had come in from Ojo, a few drunks and a junkie who’d OD’d, most of whom we’d been able to save.
I had just finished stitching up the eyebrow of a woman whose boyfriend didn’t like the way she fried his chicken when another call came in. Domestic violence cases made up a bulk of m
y work as an ER nurse, and I hated it. But what I hated more was seeing the same women time and again who couldn’t stand up to their abusers and worse, who wouldn’t leave them. Those cases left me exhausted both mentally and physically, so as soon as I discharged her, I made my way to my favorite dark corner of the cafeteria with a salad and a cheeseburger. I knew this meal could end at any moment, it was the nature of ER work, so I ate fast while looking over job postings online.
It was time for me to leave Brently for good. Too much crap was going on in town and my brother Baz, along with his club, CAOS, were always in the middle of it. They weren’t bad guys, they were all veterans with massive hero complexes which meant they often found themselves playing the good guys to the worst bad guys of the world. So far Talon, the club’s Vice President’s new wife, had been assaulted and Minx, fiancée of the club Secretary, Cash, had been kidnapped and beaten badly. As Baz’s sister, I knew my luck wouldn’t hold out much longer so I worked hard, picking up as many extra shifts as I could to pay the hospital back for my RN degree.
Then, I’d be gone.
I tapped a job posting in Minnesota, ignoring the stinging in my chest as I thought about our mother. She was from St. Paul. Had grown up there and fled after the death of her twin brother. She’d left us not long after our dad died, leaving me all alone while nineteen-year-old Baz was in the Army. My brother’s friend, Torch, stepped in to care for me, a ten-year-old girl who’d been abandoned. I scratched that idea right away, Minnesota was off the table. Permanently.
I’d just taken the final bite of my burger when I was summoned to the ER for an EDP, because emotionally disturbed people were now my area of expertise. I trashed my food and put the tray on top, wiping my hands on my scrubs and shoving my phone into my hip pocket. “What do we have?” I asked as soon as I entered the exam room, but no answer could be heard over her shouting.
“They’re burning! You have to save them or they will all die!”
I walked over to her with a serene expression on my face and a calming voice that would settle her. “Who is burning, miss?”
“Los bebes! Las chicas! They are burning.”
The babies. The girls. I had a feeling she was more than a junkie, so I gave her half a dose of sedative hoping to get her more coherent. “I need you to calm down, ma’am, so I can treat your wounds.” She had burns, scratches, and cuts all over her body, but the soles of her feet and her hands seemed to have taken the brunt of the damage. “Calma por favor.”
Big brown eyes looked up at me and nodded. “Gracias.”
I smiled and got to work cleaning and bandaging her as the sedative kicked in and her breathing evened out, her heart rate returned to normal. “Now that you’re calm, perhaps you can tell me your name?”
“Monica.”
“Okay, Monica, can you tell me what happened to you?”
She looked terrified, and I swallowed the ball of fear that settled in my stomach. “They put us in a truck headed for the border,” she began in heavily accented English. “But something happened and it stopped. Then fire. Everywhere. We were trapped. I got out, and I ran. They will be coming for me.”
Before I could ask another question, she drifted off to sleep, which I was sure she needed after what she’d been through. I made a note in her chart to alert me when she woke up and went to take care of a double whammy, a junkie with a split lip, a swollen eye, and a cut wrist.
Fuck my life.
After dealing with that particular mess, I needed a breather and a change of clothes. I headed out to my car, scanning the parking lot because two in the morning was not a good time to be out alone. “Shit.” Two of my tires were flat, and though I knew the odds were slim it was just misfortune. I ignored the sliver of unease and texted my brother for a ride before reaching inside for my bag.
A pair of hands grabbed me from behind and slammed me against the trunk of my car. “Tell that puta to keep her fucking mouth shut or she’ll end up like the others.”
I closed my eyes and swallowed back the lump of fear that strangled my throat. I steadied my nerves and took note of what I could. Spanish accent. Short, probably five-six to my five-four, young based on the pitch of his voice. Kind of chubby. “You’ll have to be more specific. Which puta?” Even though I was terrified, I steeled my voice. It wasn’t the first time an angry boyfriend or husband showed up to threaten the staff.
“Get your fucking hands off her!” an enraged voice shouted from behind us, and I knew instantly who it was. A voice I’d heard many times growing up and now in my dreams as well. He pulled the man off of me, and I heard several blows before a groan of agony. “You okay, Cherie?”
I nodded and looked up into clear silver blue eyes, crinkled with worry at the corners. Those eyes I’ve dreamed about looking at me with love since I was about thirteen-years-old. “Roddick? What are you doing here?”
“Are you okay?” he asked again, a little bit gruff and a little concerned.
I nodded again, taken off balance by his nearness, by the masculine scent I’d recognize anywhere. “I think so. I don’t know who he is. But I have a feeling I know exactly who he wanted.” I picked up my bag and started toward the hospital entrance. “Why are you here, anyway?”
“I was on my way here because Talon went into labor.”
“She did?” I gasped and cupped my hand over my mouth, because he gently took my hand in his and squeezed. “She’s fine, Cherie. I’m in my way up now.”
“I’ll come by Maternity and check on her when my shift is over.” I looked away from his gaze, feeling a surge of emotions overcoming me. “Wait. Why are you out here in the employee lot?” I asked, confused.
He smirked and rubbed a hand over his five o’clock shadow. “I got a text from Baz saying you needed a ride so I came out here to see where you’d parked.”
“Where is he?” My older brother apparently thought he could keep tabs on me while hiding his own life.
“Club business, sweetheart.”
I raised an eyebrow. I hated that answer. The club used it for fucking everything.
“Chill, Cherie. He’s loading up some bikes to take back east. He’ll be gone for a few.” I nodded and turned after grabbing my spare scrubs from the car. He walked beside me, his long, lazy strides made it look as though I was running just to keep up.
“What did that asshole want?”
“What?” I couldn’t concentrate with Roddick so close. He distracted me, made me want to throw all my good sense out the window and ravish the man. But, an experienced man two decades older than me wouldn’t want anything to do with this shy virgin with her nose constantly stuck in a book.
“You said you didn’t know who he was, but you obviously know what—or who—he wanted.”
Damn, he’d caught all that? I shook my head because of course he did. Roddick had been a soldier and a damn good one based on Baz’s estimation, some type of off the books operations leader. I never asked because I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know. I told him about Monica and what she’d said to me. “That’s it. I wasn’t sure if she was half delirious, but I believed her. I guess it’s a good thing I did.”
“Shit!” His huge hands curved around my shoulders to bring me to a stop. “Don’t come out here alone again. I’ll meet you in the cafeteria when your shift is over.” He winced, and instantly my hands went to his midsection.
I could have argued, but I didn’t. As much as I hated his bossiness, I knew he wanted me safe. And I couldn’t pass up a chance to spend more time with him. “Fine. Let me take a look at that wound and then I’ll come up to see Talon when I get a chance.”
“No need,” he said quickly.
“Then I’ll find my own way home. Good night.”
He growled and reached for my arm, wincing again. “Fine. Let’s go.”
I smiled to myself at his gruff tone. The only other person I’d miss as much as my brother when I left Brently, was Roddick.
***
Roddick
A few days later, I’d spoke to Mick as soon as Talon and the brand new baby girl were home. “Mick, I know you’d rather be with Talon and baby Megan, but some shit is going down and I need you.”
After what Cherie had told me, I knew the club had to help the task force. I gave Mick the rundown on what the agents wanted from the club, what Cherie had heard, and the burning bodies that kept turning up. “I hate to bring this to the table, Mick. What if the guys don’t want to let it go after this shit is over?”
Mick nodded. I knew he’d get it. “We have to do it, man. Any one of those burned bodies could have easily been Minx.”
“We have to do it anyway or else the Feds are gonna turn their attention to the club. Now, I don’t want to just give in to all their demands.” I’d been thinking about it for a while, and I knew what I had to do for CAOS. For Brently. “I don’t want the whole club involved in this shit, Mick.”
“I got it. Me, Cash, Dagger and Torch only.”
We spent an hour outlining plans for how this would work, and how we’d deal with the aftermath. “Now go on home to your family and I’ll touch base again soon.” We said our goodbyes, and I pulled out my phone. “Meet at Jade Dragon in an hour and do me a favor, try not to look so much like a fucking fed, yeah?” I ended the call without another word. I hated fucking cops more than anything, but I needed to let Sheriff Darlington know his town was in the eye of this shit storm.
After that stop, I went to Jade Dragon and ordered an appetizer platter so it wouldn’t look suspicious if anyone saw us together. When Brockton arrived, he slid into the middle of the booth. “I’m glad you left your girlfriend at home.”
“She’s new. Overeager, but Johnson’s all right.”
“I don’t trust her.”
“You don’t have to, because I do,” he said with more feeling than I’d seen from him since our first meeting.
“It’s your funeral. Now let’s just get to it.” I outlined my conditions for helping, and I could see he didn’t like some of them, but I didn’t give a shit. “We help you with this and the club gets the reward money on Lazarus’ head. All of it.”
