Blade: A Steel Paragons MC Novel (The Coast: Book 11)

by Hart, Eve R.

  I let out a shocked laugh, after taking in his words and replaying them in my head to make sure I’d heard him correctly. I wasn’t proud of it, but it came out a little flirty and breathless.

  “Sup, Cherry Pie?” that Sketch guy said as he walked out of his room and finally noticed me.

  “No,” Blade growled and looked as if he was about to harm the guy.

  “What?” Sketch asked as if he couldn’t figure out what he’d done wrong. But there was something in his eyes that told me he knew he was pushing some kind of button. And he didn’t look like he was going to stop. “Hottie comes in here and I can’t greet her? Maybe she’s got a thing for skinny white guys instead of bulky assholes like you.”

  I tried not to laugh, going as far as sinking my teeth into my bottom lip to keep it contained.

  “Uh,” I told him, scrunching up my nose. “I’m good, thanks.”

  Blade barked out a laugh, fully capturing my attention and I was sure I had this look on my face like I was seeing a strange new form of life. It sure felt that way.

  “Damn, baby, that hurts.” Sketch grabbed his heart playfully but didn’t look offended by my words. “I’m going to get food.”

  Then he was moving along, a certain kind of swagger in his walk that seemed to just work for him.

  “Is he always like that?” I asked not really wanting to talk about Sketch anymore but I couldn’t think of anything else to talk about.

  “Yep,” Blade said, the shortness back in his tone and I hated that it instantly felt like we’d taken a few steps back again.

  “I just wanted to come over here and say thank you for the treats. They were a big hit. And so yummy.”

  “You already said thank you,” he reminded me like I had somehow forgotten.

  I didn’t understand why he wasn’t getting this.

  This was a very woman thing to do after all. Show up with a lame excuse and try to get something going.

  But it wasn’t going. We were very much stuck.

  Something caught his attention out the front of the shop.

  I watched as his eyes narrowed and tracked the movement of whatever it was. Then his body went even stiffer than it normally was and I didn’t even know that was possible.

  “What?” I asked, turning my head to look out at the street. “Oh, shit. What is he doing here?” I mumbled the question mostly to myself. I was sure Blade wouldn’t have a clue on any of it.

  “You know him?” he asked, not an ounce of happiness in his tone.

  “Yeah,” I tossed out, my feet already carrying me to the front of the shop. “Gotta jet, sorry.”

  Feeling a little frustrated and embarrassed at how big of a flop that had turned out to be, I didn’t bother turning around. My hand made some sort of wave motion over my shoulder and I was sure that only made things worse.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked my uncle as I did my best to jog and catch him before he entered my shop. “Is everything alright?”

  The look on his face told me it wasn’t.

  Not even close.

  “Come on,” I told him, grabbing his arm and pulling him around the building.

  If this was what I thought it was about, I didn’t want anyone to hear.

  “What were you doing over there?” He sounded like an unhappy father and I wasn’t thrilled about the tone.

  “Just being nice,” I told him, smile plastered on my face.

  “Stay away from them,” he warned me but said nothing as to why I should. Then again, I knew it had something to do with the fact that most of them belonged to a motorcycle club. Something I’d picked up on but hadn’t really thought about. “I told you not to pick this location.”

  “This location is perfect. And there’s nothing wrong with them across the way.”

  I walked on, doing my best not to stomp up the stairs to my apartment. Yes, he was probably only looking out for me. And yes, I knew his past and mine were both coming into play here causing him to be overprotective. I couldn’t blame him and I loved him for it, but that didn’t mean that I wanted to get into it with him.

  “I have some news,” he told me as I unlocked my door.

  Bad news.

  That much was easy enough to tell.

  He was here to deliver the one thing I’d been holding my breath for. The moment I’d been waiting to come.

  The fear gripped me tightly but I tried to shove it down.

  “He’s been released,” he said and all the air rushed out of my lungs.

  I knew this day was coming, still, it wasn’t something you could really prepare yourself for.

  I gave myself a moment to feel the crippling fear.

  Then I pushed it away and stood tall.

  “What do we do now?” I asked, feeling like I was gearing up to take on the devil.

  Truth was, it wasn’t far off from that.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Blade

  I heard his keys in the door, the lock turning over a second later. I didn’t move. Didn’t even fucking blink.

  I was cool as could fucking be, keeping my rage at bay for now.

  The room was pitch black. He didn’t bother turning on the light after he moved into the house. Dumb move on his part, but I wouldn’t have expected anything different. The porch light hit the frosted glass next to the door, turning it into a dull glow that didn’t highlight much of anything. Especially not me here sitting on his couch.

  The good ole detective seemed like one huge stupid ass motherfucker, constantly making one jackass move after the other.

  Now that I’d caught him messing with Harley, I wasn’t going to let it go.

  I’d wanted to do something about Detective Mullins months ago when he fucked with Abigail, but the club wouldn’t let me. Eventually, Petra handled it but that didn’t mean that I was going to let shit slide. I didn’t trust him. Not for nothin’. And I was here to put the fucker in his place.

  But first, I was going to find out why he was bothering my woman.

  His keys hit the porcelain bowl next to the door and I more so felt him stop short than saw him.

  “What the fuck,” he said low and under his breath as he unholstered his weapon. Again, I heard it and though I couldn’t see, I knew my eyes were right on the muzzle that was pointed my way.

  I reached over with a calm, steady hand and clicked on the light right beside me.

  “Not a-fucking-gain.” He took a step closer, his gun still trained on me. I blinked up from the weapon to look him dead in the eye. “What is with you bikers breaking into my place?”

  “Don’t got a clue what you’re spouting off about,” I told him with an edge just under my tone. “But I think you and me need to have a chat.”

  “Is that so?” he asked with a short laugh that said he thought this was anything but funny. He looked around as if expecting someone else to jump out and surprise him.

  “I’m alone. My weapons, as you saw, are right there on the table by the door.”

  “Why?” he asked, his head cocked a hair to the side as he studied me. I was going to play nice… for now.

  “Saw you talking to Harley, need to know why. Need to make sure you ain’t fucking with her to get to me or the club.”

  He scoffed and shook his head.

  “Not everything I do involves taking down your club. Believe it or not, I do have other things to do.”

  “Don’t seem like it,” I told him flatly. “Not when you’re coming around, fucking with a girl that just lost her brother. Digging up his body and putting her through hell all over again.”

  “I thought we were past that,” he said still aiming his gun at me. “And there wasn’t a body, as I remember.”

  I ignored his last comment.

  “You might be, but I’m not. I’m close to that girl, and she didn’t deserve any of that.”

  “I’m not the one that killed her brother.”

  “No one did, it was an accident,” I tossed out calmly.


  To that, he snorted.

  I said nothing else. I didn’t know what Petra had told him. Matter of fact, the only thing she said was that it had been handled. So what the fuck did I know? Regardless, I was going to stick to that story until the day I died.

  Not only for my club, but because I owed it to Dade. I owed it to Abigail.

  “I’m only going to ask once. What the fuck were you doing talking to Harley?”

  He must have seen something in my eyes because he was slowly lowering his arm. Then, keeping his sights on me, he jammed his gun into the holster and took a hesitant step closer.

  “I only see guns by the door,” he stated.

  I smirked but said nothing. I hadn’t put my blades there because I wasn’t completely sure if I would walk out of here without at least hurting him a little or not. That all depended on how hard he was going to make this and how irritated I got.

  “I know all about you,” he said, his feet working to get to a desk in the front corner of the room. He gave me his back as he rifled through one of the drawers. A minute later, he took the chair on the other side of the coffee table from me. “Blade Marcus.”

  He tossed out a folder. I kept my eyes on him as it plopped down onto the coffee table. I didn’t fall for his game. I wasn’t going to look at what that folder held. I imagined it wasn’t anything I needed to worry about because there was no way he had something on me. Not really. If he did, I’d be in a cell by now.

  “But that isn’t the name you were born with, was it?” he asked with a smug look on his face.

  I froze for a split second. Quick as it might have been, he noticed it.

  “Blade Marcus surfaced after you were born. Nearly ten years, I believe.” He paused, letting it sink in. I didn’t need a goddamn minute, I knew what the fuck he was saying. And I wondered how the hell he’d found that out when not even Cable, the club nerd, had been able to dig that shit up. “New name, new life, protection. They offered you the works for your testimony. Even a new family. Which, they kind of had to since you lost yours.”

  Fuck this guy.

  I was ready to pull my blade out and slice him from ear to ear. Then just before the light left his eyes, I’d spit on him for the fuck of it.

  “Blade was an interesting choice for a name considering what they did to your father,” he said with a damn twinkle in his eyes that said he had me.

  I pushed the memories away. He wasn’t going to get the better of me.

  “But you requested that as your new name because it gave you some kind of power, am I right?”

  “No,” I growled. That wasn’t it. I chose that name to remind me of the revenge I would get one day. As a constant reminder of what had happened and the way I would end the person that was responsible for taking my parents’ lives.

  A small smile tugged on my lips knowing that I had gotten justice for my family. It had been sweet, and also bitter. In the end, it didn’t bring them back. But at least I could sleep at night knowing that there wouldn’t be another little boy out there that would have to go through the pain that I did.

  “I’m going to assume you aren’t going to share how you got your information, so let’s move on then,” I said not playing his game.

  We stared each other down for a long moment before he finally huffed out a frustrated breath as he shook his head.

  “Why do you care?” he asked and if I wasn’t mistaken, there was genuine concern there.

  “Like I said, she’s got nothing to do with me or my club, so you don’t need to be hassling her or any of those girls over there.”

  “I’m not hassling them, but I’m starting to think that you might be watching Harley a little too closely.”

  Fuck. What was I supposed to say to that?

  “She works and lives right across from my shop. Not hard to miss shit that happens on the other side of the street.”

  “You stay away from her,” he warned me, his look cold, deadlier than I’d ever seen before.

  Something came over me then. Was he involved with her? There was no way. He wasn’t quite old enough to be her dad, but no, just fucking no. I refused to believe it. I replayed the brief exchange I’d seen before they walked around the building and out of my view. There was nothing about it that seemed even remotely romantic or sexual. But if he was interested and simply playing it cool, I might not have known.

  Then again, maybe the reason she’d been so put off by me was that she had feelings for the fucking detective.

  “I can’t do that,” I told him flatly.

  “Fuck,” he breathed out. His shoulders rounded and I took it to mean defeat. “Fuck,” he said again a little louder.

  He got up, walked back over to the desk, and a moment later, returned with another folder. This one he set down softly in front of me, covering up whatever secrets about me that the other one held.

  “Harley is my niece,” he told me as he sat back down. I blinked at him a little stunned. I hadn’t been expecting that. He motioned to the folder and I leaned over to open it. “Her ex—”

  “What the fuck!” I roared and my legs twitched, urging me to get to my feet and walk away from the images that were in front of me.

  “Her ex,” Mullins started again, “he did that to her two and a half years ago. None of us had any idea this shit was going on. Not until he beat her, sliced her up, and left her for dead.”

  I forced my fingers to pick up one of the images. There was no body, but the scene of the crime held so much of the story.

  There was blood everywhere. You could see the empty spot on the floor where her body had been. Blood spatter covered the walls and cabinets. The carpet was soaked. What got me was the clear signs that there had been a struggle. The handprint on the wall. The hole in the wood of the cabinet door. The huge blood trail as if she had crawled her way out of the kitchen and into the living room trying to get away from him. The torn clothing scattered about. Even the part where she lost the fight and stayed still.

  I dropped it and reached for another one.

  Harley.

  A close up of her face, the ugly, thin hospital gown just barely visible at the bottom of the picture.

  I swallowed hard, trying my best to choke down the emotions and anger that were quickly rising.

  I couldn’t read the expression on her face mostly because it was so bruised and bloodied that it couldn’t be seen. I hardly recognized her and it made my blood boil.

  I kept going, taking in each of the pictures so I could gather the rage. I’d hold it in until the time was right. That was something I was really fucking good at doing.

  Her body was even worse.

  Stab wounds. Too many for me to even count.

  And her shape, I couldn’t even picture her like that. She looked nothing like the curvy, confident woman I knew. This wasn’t a look of someone happy or healthy. More likely months, if not years, of starving herself. It killed me. She shouldn’t have ever felt like she needed to do that to look beautiful. And fuck anyone that made her feel that way.

  There was a police report sitting behind the pile of pictures. I hesitated because I wasn’t sure I could take anymore.

  “He stabbed her over ten times,” Mullins said as if he sensed my internal struggle. “Beat her with a bat. Tried to strangle her. And…” I cut my eyes up to him knowing that whatever he was about to say would be the worst of it all. His eyes screwed closed tight and I saw him visibly swallow. “While she was laying there bleeding to death and fighting to stay conscious, he ripped her clothes off and tried to rape her. The only saving grace is that one of the neighbors heard the commotion and called the police. He heard the sirens and fled the scene.”

  “Fuck!” I roared as I jumped to my feet. It was all I could do to hold the rage inside at this point. Everything clicked into place then. The way she’d wanted my touch and then the fear in her eyes afterward. If I’d known I never would have touched her. “No!”

  “Yeah,” he said sounding exhausted.r />
  “Where is this fucker? Tell me they got him locked the fuck up or he’s six feet under.”

  His eyes fell downcast.

  “He got three years. But I was there today to tell her that he’d been released early on good behavior.” I could hear how much he disbelieved that was the reason he got out early. “I had to warn her.”

  “How the fuck did he only get three years for this?” I asked, my hand flying out in the direction of the pictures. The anger was rising to the surface and it was starting to show in my voice.

  “His dad’s a judge.”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “Fuck no.”

  “I only recently convinced her to move here. I did what I could to hide her, but it’s not exactly… witness protection.”

  The way he said that had me glaring at him.

  I knew exactly what the fuck he was saying with that statement.

  “I have a buddy back in Texas keeping tabs on him. So far, he hasn’t left the city.”

  That didn’t mean shit to me. How could Mullins trust anyone there when this fucker served less than three years behind bars for the shit he did?

  And by the sag in his shoulders, he wasn’t all that sure about it either.

  “He will never touch her again,” I said sounding calm and deadly at the same time.

  “You care for her?” he asked. His tone and his face both seemed conflicted.

  “Yeah, I fuckin’ do. She don’t want nothing to do with me, but I’m hoping I can show her I got good in me. I don’t deserve someone like her, but I also can’t walk away.”

  “Fucking hell,” he muttered under his breath.

  I was sure he wasn’t thrilled about it but I didn’t give a fuck.

  I sat back down and flipped the folder closed.

  “I wanted to end you. I told my club I’d do it if they just said the word.” I didn’t try to hide the fact that I was dead serious.

  “I’m still alive…”

  “Yeah, you are. Because they’re not like that,” I told him looking him dead in the eye. “Despite the shit you’ve put us through, even after we fucking helped you out, Prez doesn’t think you deserve to die. I stand by him because I believe in that man more than I believe in myself. I don’t like that you’re still out there, lurking around the damn corner just waiting for the moment you can take us down. But there isn’t a whole fuck of a lot I can do about it.”