Not only was Lo some kind of psycho. He was some sort of prepper.
“Fucking hell,” I said, shaking my head as we pulled up to the front gates.
“Too late now,” Cash said, smiling, his thoughts aligned with mine.
Even as he said it, all eyes were turned on us, guns raised, dogs hauling ass to greet us with foaming mouths and snarls.
A few minutes later, a lone figure walked out from the door of the center shipping container. Tall. Bald head. Dark midnight skin. Strong build. The undeniable posture of ex military. He walked casually toward us, no guns. But he didn't need one when at least ten were aimed at us.
“Henchmen?” he asked, his brows drawing down.
“We got something to discuss with Lo,” I supplied.
“Got a death wish?” he asked, flashing white teeth.
“Got a situation,” I said, shrugging.
“And you want Lo to be involved?” he asked as if it was the craziest thing he had ever heard.
“Maybe. That's why we're here. To feel him out.”
To this, he smiled wider. “Alright,” he said, shrugging. Then he walked over to a booth, hitting some buttons until the gate started to open.
“Not even gonna ask if we're packing?” Cash asked and I glared at him. We were packing. Of course we were.
“You think it'd matter?” he asked, gesturing toward the men all around, a few more coming out of the wood works to watch us.
“Got a point,” Cash said, casual as ever. As if we weren't walking into a damn fortress run by a known madman.
We were led over to the shipping container the guy had first stepped out of, finding absolutely nothing inside but a bunch of boots and jackets. Then straight through a steel door to another room. Some kind of meeting area. Then into a living space. Open floor plan. Kitchen/ dining/ living in one. Small, but comfortable. No windows, but more than enough overhead, standing, and table lamps to make up for it. The light a little off and I wondered if it was UV lighting to make up for the lack of sun.
“Relax,” he said, gesturing toward the kitchen. “I'll let Lo know you're here.”
He left us. Alone. In the center of their weird fortress. But I had the distinct impression, though, that we weren't alone. That there were men already stationed where we had come in from. And men where our chaperon had disappeared to.
“Fuckin' weird,” Wolf said, looking around.
“Got that right,” Cash agreed. “They live like cave people.”
“Cash, we ain't got no windows either,” I reminded him with a smirk.
“Yeah, but this place is...”
“Greg says you're looking for me,” a voice called, making us all jump and turn.
“No fuckin' way,” Cash said, a disbelieving grin overtaking his face.
Because there standing just inside the doorway in front of Greg, was Lo.
And Lo was a fucking woman.
And not just a woman.
A good fucking looking woman.
Tall. At least five-nine with a strong, but slim build, wide hips, decent rack. Long ash blonde hair, a face that was all sharp edges with dark brown eyes. She had on worn jeans and a white tee. A gun was strapped to a band on her thigh, another at her hip.
“Are all the crime lords fucking women now?” Cash asked, wondering what we were all thinking.
At this, Lo smiled, a tinkling laugh escaping her lips. “Can't let you men have all the fun now can we?” she asked.
“How the fuck old are you?” Cash went on, making me roll my eyes.
She turned her eyes on Cash, a smirk toying at her lips. “Almost old enough for that question to be borderline offensive.”
“You're seriously Lo?” he asked, obviously not convinced. Because she was young. Not young like Summer. But somewhere along the line of our ages. Maybe more Wolf's than mine. Mid to late thirties.
“Yep, that's me. They call me Lo because I like to keep this,” she said, gesturing toward her tits, “on the down low.” She walked into the kitchen area, calm, casual, like it was nothing to have three hulking criminals in her personal space. Maybe it wasn't. “So,” she said, pouring cups of coffee, “what brings you here?”
“V,” I answered, taking the cup from her hands.
“That bitch?” she asked, rolling her eyes.
“You knew she was a bitch? How the fuck did everyone else know that but us?” Cash asked, shaking his head.
“Oh, honey,” she said, giving Cash a killer smile, “I know everything. Just like I know you have a cocaine kingpin up in your shed right as we speak. Like I know that same guy had half his men taken out the day before you nabbed him. Like I know you,” she said, turning to look at me, “had a woman staying at your house before taking her back to the compound. Care to fill in the missing pieces? It's been driving me nuts.”
I shared a look with Cash, then Wolf. Cash shrugged.
Wolf grunted. “Gone this far,” he said.
I guessed he was right.
“Alright, here's how it is. The guy in our shed is Richard Lyon who is married but estranged from his wife, Vanessa.”
“V,” she supplied.
“Yeah, V. The woman who was stayin' with me, she was their only kid. V wants control of Lyon's shipping containers to bring in new skin. Took the daughter to try to convince him. He wasn't giving in 'cause he thinks she needs someone to keep her in check. And that's his job. So he didn't give in no matter how much the girl got tortured. The girl got out, crashed a car. I found her. To her to my house. Then to the compound. Lyon took her from me. V took her from him. So here we are.”
“Quite the clusterfuck,” she said, sipping her coffee. “You men,” she said, smiling oddly. “Always making such a mess of situations.”
“The fuck were we supposed to do?” Cash asked, looking like he wanted to strangle her.
“For starters,” she went on, unphased. Probably because of the sheer amount of men on Hailstorm. She was likely used to testosterone driven outbursts. “You don't fall in love with the daughter of two of the biggest crime lords on the coast,” she said, turning her gaze to me.
The fuck?
No.
What.
The.
Fuck?
Fall in love with the daughter of two of the biggest crime lords on the coast?
Summer?
I wasn't in love with Summer.
“Oh, that's precious,” Lo said, laughing her tinkling laugh again. “You still haven't realized you love her yet, huh?”
Cash and Wolf's eyes turned to me.
Oh, fuck.
**
“Come on,” Summer pleaded, sticking out her bottom lip in an epic fucking pout.
“No,” I said for the third time.
“You know you want to,” she tried, throwing her leg over my waist and straddling me, wearing one of my old t-shirts, the neck pulled wide and exposing her shoulder. My hands went out, landing on the sides of her hips as I looked up at her. Her delicate face. Her soft red hair, bed messy. Her tiny body that had taken so much abuse. Her big gray eyes that had lost so much of their fear. “Reign...” she tried, her voice dipping low because she knew it drove me wild when she said my name.
I knifed up, sending her flying onto her back, my body crashing down on hers. “I said no, Summer,” I said, shaking my head.
She took a breath, looking away for a second. When she turned back, I didn't trust the look in her eyes. Then her eyes held mine as her teeth nipped into her lower lip. “For me?” she asked.
Fucking hell.
“For you?” I asked, looking down at her and she nodded.
There was a strange warm tightness in my chest as I realized that I would do it. I would probably do anything she asked.
“Fine,” I sighed, shaking my head at myself.
But then her face lit up and I forgot all about why I was supposed to be mad at myself for giving into her again.
**
“Oh, fuck,” I said, slammin
g down my coffee cup.
“You caught feelings,” Cash said, beaming at me.
“Good woman,” Wolf added.
Lo took a deep breath. “God, I'm a sucker for a good love story,” she said, shaking her head at herself. “So what do you need from me?”
“Your reputation,” I offered.
“You think that I am the big bad that can keep V in line?”
“Somethin' like that. We know your reputation.”
“What do you do?” Cash cut in, leaning on the counter toward Lo, looking fascinated.
Jesus fucking Christ. He wanted to stick his cock in her. Typical.
Lo shrugged. “I do a little bit of a lot of things. Chasing skips. Private security. The occasional extortion deal. Some hits. Not as many as we used to do though. I have a lot of men with a lot of varied talents. I like to put them to work.”
“Hits?” Cash asked.
“What? Never killed anyone?” she asked him, leaning across the island, getting close to his face. He had. Only one man. But he had. “Ah, there it is,” she said, nodding. “We ain't that different.”
“We kill to protect our chapter. Our brothers,” Cash countered.
“So you're better than me because I kill for money?”
“Hell fucking yeah,” Cash countered.
Alright. Maybe I read that wrong. He didn't want to fuck her. He wanted nothing to do with her.
“Yo, as much fun as it is to watch you two bicker like an old married couple,” I broke in, watching their faces snap to mine, “I got a woman being tortured as we speak. Are you gonna fucking help us or what?”
Lo exhaled a long breath, straightening.
“Oh what the hell? If for nothing else than to see how you look at her now that you know you love her.”
And that was how we got the craziest mother fucker on the East Coast in on our mission to get Summer back.
Twenty-six
Summer
Four days.
Two days at my father's.
Two days at my mother's.
So far, I was pretty sure I preferred my father's. With the unlimited access to the shower and bathroom and actual decent meals. With big, hulking, silent Lee keeping watch over me. Instead of Martin. Instead of the other new guy who sat outside my door at night singing some song I had never heard about killing a man. In a sick sort of way, I almost wished Deke was still around. At least I knew what I was in for with him. The new guy, well, he had eyes like Martin.
“Five minutes,” Martin growled, throwing me into the bathroom and slamming the door.
He was pissed. Probably because, for some reason, he wasn't able to get into my room the night before. Which I had a suspicion might have had something to do with Daniel intervening.
I was also uncuffed and then allowed to recuff in my front to give my shoulders a break. Again, thanks to Daniel.
I washed my hands, looking up into the mirror. If the day before was bad, this was worse. The bruises around my throat looked darker, my eye had yellow mingling with the blue and purple. And my eye was still full of blood. Apparently that didn't go away like I thought it would. It looked worse than it was though. It didn't even hurt. So at least there was that.
The door swung open.
Too soon.
I had been counting.
We were at three minutes.
Not good.
I barely had a chance to jerk my head in the direction of the door before my hips were slammed up against the sink hard enough for me to yelp and the side of my face collided with the mirror, a hand at the back of my neck holding me there. The glass cracked beneath the pressure and I felt the blood start to trickle down the side of my face. The pressure on my neck relaxed and I sucked in a deep breath, preparing. Because it wasn't over.
The hand moved up into my hair, grabbing it at the base of my neck and pulling viciously backward and turning me until my head jerked up and I was staring into the hollows that were Martin's eyes.
“Get on your knees,” he said quietly.
No.
No fucking way in hell.
No.
But the choice was taken away a few seconds later when Martin's boot swung forward and, full force, landed against my shin, sending me downward on a hiss. The hand stayed in my hair, slipping down toward the ends and pulling harder. His other hand went to the front of his jeans, popping the button and reaching for the zip.
No.
No no no no no.
That couldn't happen.
I could get over the pain. My cuts would heal. My bruises would fade. I could move on from that. But I couldn't, I knew somewhere deep down in my soul, that I wouldn't be able to recover from being forced to have his dick in my mouth.
I . Just. Couldn't.
Unbidden, an image of Reign popped into my head. Of him coming back from some kind of meeting with the rest of his men. He sat down at the foot of the bed, his back tight, his elbows resting on his thighs, facing away from me. And he just seemed so stressed out. I climbed out of bed, quietly padding across the floor and moving in front of him, sliding one of my arms around his shoulders, one slipping into his hair. And just like that, his arms went around my center, pulling me close, holding me tight. I held on for a long couple minutes, enjoying the feel of him holding onto me like I was precious. Like I was a bright spot in his dark day. Then I slowly pulled backward until his arms loosened and lowered myself down between his legs, looking up into his eyes as I reached to unfasten his jeans. His eyes stayed on mine, mine on his, as I reached inside and started stroking him. His hand went out, his knuckles brushing down my jaw before I tilted my head and took him in my mouth.
That was the last memory I wanted to have about that particular act.
Not being forced to do it with Martin.
Happily, lovingly doing it for Reign.
I couldn't let them take anything else from me.
Martin had his pants undone and was reaching inside.
I twisted my body, bringing my boot up, and swinging my arms over to reach inside.
If ever there was a good time to do it, to grab the gun, turn it on yourself, and pull the trigger. If there was a good reason to do it, it was to keep yourself from being violated in a new and awful way.
My hands weren't even shaking as my fingers slid over the gun that was warm from being pressed against my skin.
“What's taking so long?” Daniel's voice yelled from down the stairs and I felt my heart skip in my chest.
“Mother fuck,” Martin hissed, readjusting himself in his pants, dropping my hair and closing back up.
My hand slipped from my boot, my opportunity lost, and I slowly tried to get back onto my feet.
Martin quickened this by dragging me up by my hair, pulling me against his body, “This isn't over,” he said in a voice full of warning and promise before I was shoved out into the hallway and made my way down the stairs.
Daniel's eyes fell on me as I got closer, a fire burning behind them. But he just clamped his jaw tight and led me into the kitchen, Martin following close behind me.
“Summer,” my mother greeted, looking over my face. Showing no reaction whatsoever. “Won't you join me for a chat?”
“Like I have a choice,” I countered, somewhat below my breath but she heard, her brow lifting.
Daniel moved over toward my mother, leaning against the counter, looking at his watch. Martin moved toward my side as I sat down on the stool, keeping a good four feet between us.
“We seem to have a problem,” she started, watching me.
“Oh, yeah?” I asked, putting my elbows up on the island, rubbing between my eyes at the headache building. Likely from my face colliding with a mirror.
“Your father is missing.”
My head snapped up, my brows drawing together. “Missing?” I asked, finding that I actually cared. Despite him lying to me my whole life. Despite him kidnapping me. I cared.
V nodded, her eyes getting hard. “I'm sure you un
derstand that this is a rather big deal.”
“Because you can't guilt him into giving you access to the containers by torturing me anymore,” I guessed.
“I had men on him, watching his every move. Watching him scramble without eighty percent of his army alive to do his bidding. No one saw anything. He was just gone. Any idea who might have wanted him?”
I knew exactly who had him.
Don't ask me how I knew. But I knew.
Reign had him.
And, again, don't ask me how I knew...
But I knew that Wolf was the one who got him.
I felt my shoulder shrug, “I imagine he has a lot of enemies, you know... being in the drug trade. Someone saw he was weak and moved in.”
V's eyes went hot, like she somehow knew I was lying to her.
But before she could open her mouth, one of her men came rushing in. “V, someone is here for you.”
“I have no meetings today,” she countered, dismissing him.
“V...” he went on, looking uncomfortable for having to keep pressing the issue, “Says it's Lo.”
V's head snapped up, her eyes going active. What they were thinking, I had no idea, but they were definitely thinking something. “Lo?”
“Yeah, and three Henchmen.”
“Well, well,” she said, smiling, her eyes falling to me. Like she knew. Of course she knew. “This should be fun.” She turned her attention back to the man who had rushed in. “Check them for weapons and then send them in.” She looked over my face with a smirk. “This could get very interesting.”
I felt a cold pit settle in my belly.
No.
This was not good.
I didn't know who the hell Lo was, but I knew which Henchmen they were talking about.
The three that meant the most to me.
Wolf.
Cash.
And Reign.
At the thought of his name, a slicing feeling went across my chest and I dropped my eyes to the counter, sure my eyes would give me away as I worked to draw up a mask of indifference.
Shit.
Whatever was about to happen, I was sure it wasn't good.
Reign (The Henchmen MC Book 1) Page 19
