Demons

by J. L. Drake

  “Yeah.”

  “You piss her off again?”

  I smirked. “Turns out the girl can shoot, along with a few other hidden talents.”

  “Really?”

  “Mmm.” I threaded her helmet through the handlebar. “She needs a moment to come down, and so do we.” I headed over to his fire pit, grabbed a beer, and set it on the stone. I opened another and eased into the metal contraption he called a chair.

  Gus hobbled over and pulled back the tab. He always drank shit beer, even if I brought the good stuff.

  “Stripe Backs. They had the advantage, and they could have taken Tess out, but they didn’t. They tried to take her.”

  Gus set his beer down and rubbed his bottom lip as he thought. “She did overhear them in the desert, and they did try to attack her after Tiago. Maybe they just want to shut her up?”

  “Maybe they have orders to take her.” I played the Devil’s advocate.

  “You think Allen is behind this?”

  “I think a lot of things.”

  He spat and took another swig. The sound of crickets filled the air, and I strained to hear Tess.

  “How was the house?”

  I shrugged. “Eye-opening.”

  “Meaning?”

  “A lot of shit there.” Gus knew about Tess and Bret, but I would deal with that later.

  “Any part of it you can’t get past?”

  I tossed the beer in the rusty trashcan and grabbed another. “Getting past it would mean I cared.”

  “Cut the shit, Trigger. I saw your face that night in the trailer when we got her back.”

  I felt uncomfortable showing emotions, even with Gus.

  His chuckle broke down into a nasty cough as he reached for another beer. “If Brick’s sister was in trouble, you wouldn’t have gone to the extent you did to get her back like you did Tess.” He laughed again and nodded at the woods. “You’re pissing me off. Just go get her.”

  “Whatever.” I pushed to my feet and headed into the woods. It didn’t take me long to find her at Gus’s hideout near the brook. She was bent over the railing with her hands to her mouth in an attempt to warm them. She seemed to be restless and struggling over the day.

  “Come on up. You’re freezing.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “I wasn’t asking.”

  “I know.”

  She just about drove me to the edge with all I had already going on inside me.

  “Tess.”

  “Trigger.”

  “Why do you have to fight me on everything?” I bit out.

  “Why do you have to be so demanding on everything?”

  I rubbed my head and cursed.

  “Trigger,” she sighed, “I just had my ex play mind games with me, found out he killed my best friend, killed his lover, said goodbye again to an old friend, shot someone, was nearly yanked off a bike by what I assume was rival gang member, and am here with nothing but a backpack and a few belongings.” She stopped to catch her breath. “I think I deserve a moment to stop my head from spinning.”

  “I get that—”

  “No, you don’t,” she tossed back at me angrily. “You have a home, a family, and a sense of belonging. People would genuinely care if something happened to you. I don’t know where the hell I belong. I’m just some girl who walks in and out of people’s lives.”

  I stepped closer, and she held up her hand.

  I grabbed it and pulled her to me. She looked pissed and shoved me, but I didn’t move. She tried to do it again, and I wrapped my arms around her to pin her and backed her up against the railing.

  “You are not just some girl, Tess. You belong with me at my club, and not with that mind fuck of an ex.” I freed my hand and held her chin to look at me. Her eyes were wild, but there was a sadness behind it. I hated how it made me feel. I hated that it made me feel at all. “Let that shit go, or I’ll make you.”

  “Try.” Her face was flushed, and I saw what she wanted—no, what she needed. I also knew what it felt like to have all that adrenaline inside. We were both still riding the high from what we had experienced.

  I unzipped her pants and split her folds to find her hot wetness. When she started to speak, I flipped her around and planted her hands on the rail.

  “You might think you’re in control, Tess.” I shoved up her shirt and undid my pants. My heavy erection twitched with need at her opening. “You might even think you want it.” I leaned down and licked the entire length of her spine. “But I can assure you, when you’re with me,” I lined up and broke her opening with my tip, “you will give in to me.” I eased in steadily, determined that this time we would finish.

  Her insides squeezed me, and my fingers dug into her hips.

  “Do you understand me?” I wanted to drive my point home. “Answer me.” I slapped her ass, and she moaned loudly. I pulled out and waited for her to wiggle. When she backed up, I stepped back. I grabbed her neck, knowing she liked it rough, and tilted her head back. “Do-you-understand-me?”

  “Fuck me, flip your switch,” she snarled. “Make me scream.”

  I bent her over, plowed back in, and beat myself into her. She bucked, screamed, and begged for more. I didn’t care who heard us. I was inside this woman, and I needed it as much as she did. The silence that took over me was bliss in itself. My balls smacked her clit, and she fought to chase the climax that ripped through her. Her skin broke out in a sexy pink, and my handprints on her hips marked my ownership.

  Over and over again, I reminded her who was in charge, and with each thrust, I increased the speed. She could do nothing but hang on. Her hair was wild, and she jolted as she screamed my name. I loved that I could be me inside of her. No holding back, just pure, animal sex. We were meant to fuck this way.

  I picked up the pace, changed the angle, and let myself coat her insides after weeks of frustration. She started to fall forward, totally done, but I held her to my chest, still inside her. Her breathing slowed, and I bit down on her neck.

  “I will ground you next time. Now get dressed. Someone wants to see you.”

  I slipped out.

  We climbed the hill, and I gave her my seat and took an even shittier one. Gus handed her a plate of shredded meat, tortilla, and salsa.

  “So good to see you again, Tiger,” Gus grunted and urged a beer in her hand.

  She looked around for a moment and made the connection. “You live here?”

  “My rusty slice of paradise.” He grinned, and I huffed out a laugh.

  Tess studied my face before she set her beer down and started in on the food.

  “You here for good now?”

  She paused before she took her next bite. “I’m not really sure of that yet.”

  My glare should have burned her. She tried everything not to look at me, but she felt it.

  “Well,” he sighed, “I sure hope you do.”

  My phone vibrated, and I saw it was Big Joe. I moved to the tree line before I answered it.

  “Yeah?”

  “There’s a letter here for you.”

  “Open it.” I glanced at Gus, who looked to be telling Tess a story. She tossed her head back and laughed. My dick twitched again. Fuck, she turned me on.

  “Shit.” Big Joe’s tone brought me back to our conversation.

  “What?”

  “It’s a flyer for a fight in Las Vegas.”

  “Toss it.”

  “Trigger.” There was a pause, and before I could remind him how I hated long stories, he spat it out. “Your dad’s making his first public appearance and calling you out to fight.”

  So, I didn’t take the bait the first time, and now he’s insuring it.

  I felt my addiction for the cage surface for the first time in years. It was something I had buried for many reasons, the main one being that it changed me, turned me into an animal. I knew I would lose myself once the scent of blood in the ring freed the demons inside.

  “Toss it,” I repeated, feeling my
body come alive.

  When Big Joe didn’t respond, I sensed something was off.

  “No, brother, I don’t think I can.”

  “Why?”

  “If you don’t fight, he said he’ll come for her.”

  I glanced at Tess. She watched me, and I lowered my voice before I spoke.

  “This stays between you and me.”

  “Got it.”

  Chapter Ten

  Tess

  Something was wrong. I could tell by the way Trigger’s hands were clenched into fists, and when I added in his murderous expression, I had no doubt something big was up. Gus did everything to keep my attention on him, so I decided to use it to my advantage.

  “Gus,” I lowered my tone and traced the top of the beer can with my fingertip, “when I first arrived at the club, Brick told me the guys got their nicknames by the way they killed.”

  He nodded. “Yeah.”

  “I know Morgan isn’t as high up as Brick and Rail, but why hasn’t he gotten his nickname yet?”

  He laughed. “He has.”

  “But I thought…” I looked at him, confused. What was I not getting?

  “Trigger recruited Morgan from a biker bar in Palm Springs. Morgan smashed a bottle over a guy’s head, jammed the jagged glass into his throat. He used the same bottle on a few more. It was a real bloodbath.” He waited for me to make the connection.

  “A bottle of Captain Morgan.” I smiled. “That’s kind of funny.”

  “Yeah, he likes his nickname. Morgan doesn’t like too much attention on himself.”

  “Reminds me of someone else we know.”

  Gus took a drink from his beer. “Sure does.” He winked at me.

  “So, if everyone has a nickname, that means they had different names first.” I glanced at Trigger and back to Gus. “What’s Trigger’s real name?”

  “You’re going to get me in trouble, here, Tiger.”

  “Not my intent, Gus. Promise.”

  “I know.” He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Trigger was out of earshot. “Nolan was the name his mother gave him at birth.”

  Nolan. Seemed different enough to suit him. I really couldn’t picture a Scott or Eric.

  “Why do you say ‘at birth?’”

  Gus rubbed his weathered eyes. “His father preferred little shit until his ability to fight without a conscience kicked in. Then it was Trigger. It was supposed to be a stage name, but as you can see, it fits.”

  “And now his father is posing as a Father of the Church?”

  “Sick fucker will stop at nothing to become more powerful than his son. You need to be careful, Tess. Allen being back brings a whole new level of trouble to the club.”

  “You think he sent the Stripe Backs after us tonight?”

  “If you connect the dots, yeah, I think so.”

  “Dots?” I knew what he meant, but if he could offer some more detail, I’d be happy.

  “You overheard a familiar voice in the desert, that night you also got attacked by Tiago.”

  “But they said he was a Serpent, talking to the mole.”

  “Yeah, but it was all part of Allen’s twisted fuckery. He knew it was a matter of time before Carlos would make a deal with Trigger. He was getting worn down by the Devil’s Reach at every turn. I think they sent in a Stripe Back to talk to whoever is the fuckin’ mole, and he found out Devil’s Reach had a weak link.”

  He held my gaze a little longer to make his point. I shifted uneasily.

  “Before he could make his move, Tiago got to you first. Thus ending the Serpents’ contract, and now Trigger has all of Santa Monica. The one town Allen has always wanted.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s like this. Every city has a value. Santa Monica is one of the highest, next to Oakland.”

  “Okay.” I tried to follow.

  “So, by running the Serpents out of town, more clubs will be chopping at the city limits. Trigger has more ground to cover and will need more men. Meanwhile, Allen will have the Stripe Backs do his dirty work of fucking with the club. One day when Trigger’s not looking,” he made a Hannibal Lecter chop noise, and my stomach lunged into my throat, “he’ll take the one thing that will hurt the club the most.”

  “Which is…?” My nails bit into my skin.

  He leaned forward, and the crow’s feet around his eyes deepened as he become serious. “You.”

  My skin shivered as a gust of wind sent my hair all around me. “I wouldn’t hurt the whole club.”

  “If Trigger’s hurting, the club is hurting.”

  “Why?” I cleared my throat. “Why did he bring me back here if I’m the target? Why not leave me at the house?”

  “Because he can’t protect you if he can’t be near you.”

  Gus let out an ear-piercing cough, and a moment later, I saw why. Trigger was approaching, and he didn’t want him to hear us talking.

  “Good?” Gus asked. Trigger looked a million miles away.

  “Yeah.”

  I was so lost in my thoughts, I didn’t hear Trigger speak to me. His hand landed on my thigh and gave it a little squeeze.

  “We need to leave.”

  “Stay here if you like,” Gus chimed in, and I nodded. I liked that idea better. “The hideout has heat.”

  “I’d like that.” I smiled weakly at Gus and hoped he’d see I wasn’t ready to go back to the clubhouse yet.

  “Fine.” Trigger sent off a quick text and pulled me to my feet.

  We said goodnight and walked back down the hill to the little log cabin. He opened the door and started to make a fire while I stood in the doorway, unsure what to think.

  “What?” he muttered over his shoulder.

  “Just thinking.”

  “About?” He took out his lighter and lit the paper.

  “Just some things.”

  He stood and scowled at me. “Why did you want to stay here?”

  I looked around and covered one arm with the other. “I like it here. Feels safe, I guess.”

  “You don’t feel safe at the club?”

  “I do. I guess I just…” I fumbled for my words.

  “Just what?”

  “I think I’m just tired.” I wished I hadn’t said anything.

  “Well, there’s the bed.” He pointed to a queen size bed up against a wall under a window. “Bathroom is over there.”

  I washed my face and brushed my teeth, my reflection showing the past twelve hours. Stress and a murder would do that to you.

  I stripped down to my tank top and panties and crawled under the old quilt. It was beautiful, with light and dark blue threading that created pretty little flowers and swirls. Not at all something I would think Gus would own.

  Trigger pulled up a seat next to the fire and nursed a glass of something brown. My guess would be more whiskey. There seemed to be an endless supply of it with this guy.

  I rolled to my side and watched him study the flames. His profile was that of a man who had seen and done too much, but at the same time, there was this incredibly sexy sense of strength surrounding him.

  “Trigger,” I whispered, and he looked over at me. One side of his face glowed from the flickering flames, and the other was cloaked in shadow. Funny how true that seemed right now.

  “Why did you come back for me?”

  I could see he was mulling the answer. His jaw ticked, and his head bowed. I swallowed hard and wished I hadn’t asked. I was fishing for some kind of warmth from him. I should’ve known better.

  “You were in a bad place, and we thought it would be better to get you out of there.”

  I gave a little nod and looked away. I hated that my emotions were so close to the surface. Darkness started to eat away at my thoughts, and I fought back my insecurities, trying to pull on the inner strength I always managed to find.

  My eyes grew hot with tears, so I gave up and flipped over and let them tumble down and hide in my pillow.

  This was what happened whenever I
stepped foot in that goddamned house. My entire body folded inward, and I lost my backbone. My mother had always undermined my confidence, and I still felt the control Clark had over me for so long. I really needed to pull my shit together.

  The bed dipped, and Trigger lifted the covers and let in a rush of cold air.

  “Tess,” he grunted. “Roll over.”

  Afraid he would see my tears, I pretended I was asleep. He sighed heavily before he shifted and spooned me from behind. His arm slipped under my neck to cradle my head.

  “Why are you crying?”

  I dried my cheeks and shook my head. He shifted to reach above me, and I caught a whiff of a strong scent.

  He reached down and took my hand and fiddled with the cuff, then undid the three snaps to reveal my scar.

  My hand slapped down to stop him, but he moved it out of the way.

  “Never hide yourself from me,” he warned, but there was a softness to it.

  I bit back my normal urge to pull away, but it was difficult.

  Something wet touched my skin. I jumped, and he grunted, “Stay still.”

  He skimmed over my scar with a black Sharpie. I watched in fascination as his huge hand drew such delicate lines. He threaded some ivy through the scar and embedded a tiny lily toward the bottom. My eyes blurred when I realized he remembered my story. I wondered if Brick told him who she was. Lily was Mags’s daughter, the only piece I had left of my best friend.

  When I thought he was done, he started to draw something else. I sniffed, and he leaned over me. His weight felt good, and I relaxed and emptied my head of all but what he was doing. Soon, a skeleton key appeared and became entangled in the ivy, but it was at a strange angle. He continued to draw vines and left the key alone like a hidden secret among it all.

  “It’s beautiful,” I barely whispered. “I didn’t know you could draw.”

  “I have a guy who can do this. I’ll make you an appointment.”

  “The key?” I questioned, curious.

  But he didn’t say anything else. He went still, and I guessed he drifted off. The more I studied his work, the more I realized it was Trigger’s way of comforting me. I pulled his hand to my lips and kissed his fingers softly then wiggled closer to him and closed my eyes.