Devil's Own

by Megan Crane

  Chaser had never trusted anyone to keep Kaylee safe before. To care about her, and not just because of their own self-interest or because they thought it was a way to curry favor with him. Her own mother had used her as a bargaining tool, stolen her out of spite, and then abandoned her. Liz was her companion because Chaser paid for her life. Chaser had gotten used to being the only thing Kaylee really had.

  But now there was Lara, who’d taken him on because she thought his parenting needed work and Kaylee needed help. And she hadn’t backed down on that, not even when he’d fucked her on her own desk.

  Which meant she was pretty much perfect. Chaser figured he’d give her a little time and space to get used to the idea, then slap a property patch on her. Preferably in place of that fucking gorilla on her ass. Just so there was no mistake who she belonged to.

  He greeted Pony and Uptown, his gaze scanning the darkness at the edges of his yard.

  “I didn’t realize I was throwing a party,” he said.

  “There’s a rumor going around that my name keeps coming up,” Uptown replied darkly. “Straight out of Digger’s mouth. Like he’s looking for a little payback for all the shit he can’t ask about directly.”

  Pony proved himself for about the nine millionth time by muttering that he’d patrol the perimeter and taking off to do that, putting some distance between him and a conversation that wasn’t for a prospect’s ears.

  “Now that Digger’s home we need to vote Pony in,” Chaser muttered, watching him go. “He’s a brother in every way but that.”

  “He’s got my vote,” Uptown agreed. “He always has.” He shoved his hands through his dirty-blond hair, pretty bastard that he was. “He told me there’s some Black Dog bullshit on top of everything else?”

  And Chaser didn’t have to ask why Pony had told Uptown, because he already knew Pony was observant. It was one of the reasons Chaser liked him so much. He knew the prospect would have noticed who Chaser spent the most time talking to, and he knew that no way would Pony have told anyone but their VP, Greeley, or Uptown what was happening. It was one more reason Pony needed a full patch, so he could support them and the club as a brother.

  He shifted so he could keep scanning the street out in front of the house and filled Uptown in on Lara, her connection to the Brothers of Goliath, and how he’d leveraged Digger into accepting a support club he clearly hadn’t wanted at all when it should have been obvious that a club no one cared about that close to the Mexican border could only be an asset. And then they talked a little bit about Pony’s far more worrying report of a Black Dog poking around Lagrange.

  Uptown shook his head. “None of this is good.”

  “Nope.”

  “It was all of three months ago we had that piece of shit mayor talking about Digger’s close personal relationship with the Black Dogs. Now we have one of those assholes running around here for no apparent reason.” He scowled. “It’s hard not to make a connection.”

  “Digger knew I was bringing Lara in tonight to call her uncle,” Chaser pointed out. “He had no idea she was anything but a piece of ass to me.” He saw the sudden gleam of interest in his brother’s gaze, but ignored it. “And he didn’t want anything to do with the Brothers of Goliath when he should have wanted to talk to them, at the very least. They’re less than an hour from the Mexican border, weak and poor.”

  “Ripe for a patch over.”

  “Which gives us another rendezvous point with the cartel,” Chaser agreed. “Since those assholes like to burn through one every five minutes.”

  Uptown shook his head. “Dicks.”

  It was the understatement of the century.

  “There’s only one reason I can think that Digger wouldn’t be all over the possibility of a new support club right there where they can be useful to us,” Chaser said.

  Uptown’s gaze was shrewd. “Maybe he knows you were trying to cover my ass.”

  Chaser scowled. “Having an in with a club that deserves a patch over, located right where they can ease a little cartel tension which we all know is always needed, is a great fucking idea. The fact it moved his attention from you is just a bonus.”

  Uptown eyed him for a moment. “I can’t argue with that.”

  Chaser nodded decisively. “And then Pony sees some asshole in a Black Dogs cut, nosing around on the same day Digger knows I’m bringing Lara in to talk to him about some shit I know he doesn’t want to do. Maybe it’s a coincidence.”

  Uptown’s gaze moved from Chaser to the house behind him. “And maybe you need to babysit what’s yours.”

  “If there’s a threat coming at anything that’s mine, I’m handling it,” Chaser growled.

  Uptown nodded, but he was already pulling out his phone. “Handle it all you want, brother. But maybe we can round up a little more firepower than one prospect and whatever the hell your scary-ass sister is packing.”

  Chaser waited while Uptown muttered a few terse words into his cellphone, then shoved it in his pocket.

  “Greeley’s on it. He said he’s gonna loop Butler and Tick in.” That wasn’t exactly a surprise. Butler and Tick were both solid brothers, about the club and not into kissing Digger’s ass for favors. “Roscoe’s still in with Dig.”

  Chaser only shook his head, trying to imagine the fine line their VP was walking. Digger wasn’t just his president. He was a man Roscoe had grown up calling uncle. A man his own father considered a brother in every way that mattered except blood. This whole situation had to be tearing Roscoe up, but if it was, he never let his fury at what Digger was doing to the club show.

  It was one more reason Chaser knew Roscoe would make a great president when the day came.

  “I hate this,” Uptown bit out into the silence. “I love our club, man. Not this fractured bullshit. And I hate knowing it’s on me. I did this.”

  “You did what you had to do,” Chaser said at once, gruffly. “There’s no doubt about that, brother. No doubt at all.” He held Uptown’s gaze. Hard. “If Digger wasn’t dirty he would have handled things differently from the start and this wouldn’t be a conversation, because you would have taken it to the table the minute it happened. We’re covering up what happened to Whale because we have no other option.”

  There was only one thing worse than killing another brother, and that was lying about it. Concealing it. The fact that no one missed Whale didn’t change the fact that lying about what had happened to him was wrong. Chaser didn’t like it, but he knew it was necessary. The club was what mattered. And he was willing to do anything to protect his club, even if that meant lying by omission while they figured out how to get rid of a dirty president who was selling them all out.

  “I appreciate that,” Uptown muttered. “But it doesn’t change the fact that there are a lot of asses on the line because I got trigger happy.”

  “That’s not the way I remember it.”

  “I don’t get any of this bullshit,” Uptown said then, fiercely. “If Dig wants more money, what the hell? We’re fucking outlaws. We have money coming out of our asses.”

  “I don’t think he wants money,” Chaser said quietly. “I’m pretty sure the man wants to be king.”

  Uptown sat with that a minute. Chaser could see him working it through in his head, figuring out the angles. It wasn’t hard to see how handing Lagrange—and its cartel connections—over to the Black Dogs made sense, if you were a two-faced traitor who no longer gave a shit about the vows stamped into your own skin. Just like it wasn’t hard to see how Digger, who had always chafed at what he saw as the insult of Luther taking the national presidency and keeping it to himself all these years, might think it was high time he got treated like the king for a change.

  “That fucking bastard,” Uptown growled. He shook himself. “But it doesn’t change the fact I made it all worse.”

  “If Digger wasn’t dirty, it wouldn’t have happened in the first place,” Chaser retorted, pissed. “Because Whale never would have been so full of himse
lf if he wasn’t in on Digger’s game. And he never would have tried to handle your woman if he didn’t think Digger would back him. If things had been the way they were supposed to be, Digger would have kicked Whale’s ass for getting involved in things that didn’t concern him. But, brother, you have to know none of this is coming down on you.” He held Uptown’s gaze again. He didn’t waver. “When it’s time to tell the brothers all the details about this shit, I’m standing right beside you. So are Greeley and Roscoe. You’re not taking the fall. Not as long as we’re alive.”

  They both stood with that a minute, giving that kind of vow the reverence it deserved. Because they both knew it could mean a death sentence, depending on how the rest of their brothers voted once they heard what had happened. What they’d done after Uptown had shot Whale. And the fact not one of them regretted a second of it. Hell, Chaser would do it again right now. But what happened to them after they confessed these things to the rest of the club would all be down to politics and loyalty.

  There was no use worrying about it now. Digger needed to be removed from the top slot. He needed to pay for betraying his brothers. Chaser needed to focus on that, because that was what was good for the club. That was what mattered. What might happen to him was secondary.

  “I don’t know what Roscoe is waiting for,” Uptown said in a low voice after a moment. His hard gaze met Chaser’s. “But I got a family to protect. If there’s a war coming, I need to be prepared.”

  “Roscoe’s waiting for proof.” Chaser folded his arms over his chest. “A loser mayor who cheated the club out of money and would say anything to get out of his corruption trial isn’t exactly proof.” He let the rest of what Uptown had said sink in. “Family?”

  Uptown’s chin rose a notch. “Holly’s pregnant.” Then he grinned that ridiculous grin of his that was probably why sweet things like the former mayor’s daughter lost their pretty little heads over him in the first place. “I’m pushing for barefoot and pregnant, but she assures me that’s unladylike.”

  Uptown had claimed his woman only a few months ago. She was young and cute and head over heels for the biker who’d saved her from her father’s crap and Whale’s determination to make her pay for it.

  “You don’t waste any time,” Chaser said with admiration. He reached over and bumped his fist to Uptown’s, then their shoulders. “Respect.”

  “I’m gonna wait to marry her,” Uptown said, looking even more pleased with himself than usual. “Keep her honest. Horrify her daddy. You know.”

  “Little Uptowns running around, causing trouble,” Chaser said with a mock shudder. “They’ll burn this town to the ground.”

  But he slapped his grinning brother on the shoulder, asked him about his woman’s health and potential baby names like the uncle he was going to be to Uptown’s child because the man was his family, and then they settled in to wait for their backup before they headed out to hunt down their enemy.

  And this time, make him talk.

  Chapter 11

  Lara decided she was so far out of her comfort zone that it was bordering on a psychotic break. There was no other reason she could possibly be so calm, surely. After what had happened in that warehouse, from the insane sex in public to the two short words Chaser had thrown out there that had changed everything.

  After her tacit agreement to trust him and go along with that madness out there in the dark of his yard.

  A psychotic break was the only explanation that made any sense of the fact that she was standing around in Chaser’s kitchen as if she was wholly at ease with one of her high school students and the only thing worse than a biker—a deeply unfriendly and potentially homicidal sister-to-the-club. All aggro and no code, if she was reading the other woman right.

  And she knew she was. She’d grown up with women like Liz. Becoming a woman like Liz had been one of the unpleasant futures Lara had rejected when she’d walked away from that godforsaken desert shithole. Faded tattoos of little to no artistic merit, overly tan flesh packed into clothes two sizes too small for her frame, and entirely too many of her personal disappointments stamped all over her face.

  “You know he fucks anything and everything that moves, right?” Liz demanded the moment the door closed behind Chaser. This pretty much guaranteed that she and Lara were never going to be friends.

  “Oh my god, Aunt Liz!” Kaylee sounded horrified. “Could you be any more disgusting?”

  “If you don’t know your father has a lot of sex with all those women who hang all over him everywhere he goes, Kaylee, I don’t know what to tell you,” Liz said with a sniff, indicating that emotionally scarring her niece did not appear to shame her at all. Did anything? “Except maybe it’s time to wake up and smell reality.”

  Lara studied Chaser’s sister for a moment, the other woman braced there against the refrigerator like she was ready to take on a battalion and Lara was nothing but an annoying afterthought. She was a tough-looking woman in the style of Lara’s own aunt Tammy, hard around the eyes and in the grooves on either side of her mouth, which could as easily be from self-pity as from cigarettes. Lara’s money was on both.

  “I appreciate the update,” she replied, making certain she sounded perfectly calm. Even chilly. The way she sounded when fractious, shifty teenagers were telling her appalling lies about why they hadn’t completed their homework assignments. “Because, of course, I assumed that he was a deacon in the church or possibly a living saint, given all those tattoos, the customized Harley, and, you know, the 1%-er patch he wears.”

  “He discards skanks like the trash they are,” Chaser’s sister continued in that same belligerent, warning tone. And there was more to it than that. There was an undertone that suggested she relished the opportunity to set Lara straight about her place in Chaser’s life. And his bed.

  “If I see any skanks I’ll be sure to pass that along,” Lara replied icily, refusing to give in to the dark side of her that wanted nothing more than to jump in and start a little name-calling of her own. But she couldn’t. Not with an impressionable teenager standing right there beside her, starved for some kind of decent female role model if this conversation was any indication. “I’m sure they’ll be grateful for the advance warning. As for me, I’m going to leave you to propping up the refrigerator or whatever it is you’re doing, and take a much-needed shower.”

  Liz laughed, a low sound that ended in a cough and was laced through with the sort of menace her brother threw around so effortlessly. And while Lara found hers significantly less impressive, she didn’t really want to test that.

  “Listen up, bitch,” Liz bit out, that same hard gleam in her gaze. “You aren’t shit. I take care of Kaylee. I take care of my brother, too. That’s my job. All a piece of disposable ass needs to do around here is suck his dick when he tells her to and keep her mouth shut otherwise, do you understand me?”

  What Lara understood was that there was more Ashburn in her blood than she wanted to admit, because it was boiling hot at the moment. Singing songs of mayhem as it shot through her, making her want nothing more than to do something rash and satisfying, like put her foot in Liz’s face. She had to remind herself that this was Chaser’s sister. Lara needed to deal with her, not try to beat her down—and especially not when the other woman was much bigger and meaner-looking than she was.

  But oh, the urge to do some damage. It burned through her. It made her understand things about her relatives and their version of problem-solving that she’d never quite gotten before. Not like this.

  “I’m going to stop you right there,” Lara said with an enormous calm she didn’t feel, moving closer to slide an arm around Kaylee’s back in a gesture that was equal parts comfort and solidarity. The girl was tall like her father and gaping at Liz as if she was already plotting her future therapy sessions to deal with the things that had been said tonight. “Let’s ignore the disturbing focus you seem to have on your brother’s sex life and agree that discussing it—or anything like it—in front o
f his adolescent daughter is deeply inappropriate. At best.”

  “I’ll talk about whatever the hell I want to talk about,” Liz snarled at her, straightening away from the refrigerator and vibrating a little as she did. “This is America.”

  Lara sighed. “No one is questioning your citizenship. Just your subject matter. And you misunderstand me. You can talk about whatever you want. Knock yourself out. But we are not going to stand around and listen to a parade of psychological issues on gruesome display.”

  She tugged Kaylee around with her and into the living room, only letting go of her when they left the kitchen and Liz behind. And made it to the other side of the house, just in case.

  “That’s right, bitch, run away,” came the other woman’s raspy voice from behind them in the kitchen.

  Lara wasn’t at all surprised she needed to get the last word. What did surprise her was that she had to bite her tongue to keep from saying something else to claim it for herself, as if really, she wanted to keep this squabble going.

  “Don’t mind my aunt,” Kaylee said then, sounding young and tired and a little scared, too. There was the sound of slamming drawers from the kitchen, like punctuation. And then the expression on the girl’s face shifted into something much too wise for her years. “My dad pays her rent and gives her a salary to hang around with me while he’s working, so she basically lives in fear that he’ll hook up with someone who would do that for free.” She rolled her eyes. “Please. I’m sixteen. At this point the only reason she’s even still here is because my dad feels sorry for her. I can take care of myself.”

  Lara studied her, taking in the dark circles below her eyes and the swollen look to her face, suggesting she’d been crying. Of course, she was a teenage girl. That could mean anything from hearing her favorite song to an impending apocalypse. But Kaylee noticed the scrutiny and didn’t like it. She stiffened, ducked her head so her hair obscured her face, and started for the stairs.