The Sinner Unleashed (L.A. Sinners MC Book 2)

by J. L. Leslie

  I expect Mackenzie to make a scene. Fuck, I almost want her to, but she counts out my fee and tosses it onto the table before depositing the money into her bag. She zips it before slinging it over her shoulder and exiting the office without another word to me.

  I follow her outside, taking my time to catch up with her because I know she’ll wait for me. She’s dying to give me a piece of her mind. She opens the door to the truck she’s driving, no doubt belonging to her boyfriend, and then tosses the bag inside.

  “I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but that was bullshit!” she says, her hand on the door, but she makes no move to get inside.

  “Just doing my job,” I tell her, walking past her toward my bike.

  “Oh, running errands?” she comments snidely.

  Despite having the cut on my back proving to her that I’m no longer a prospect, her comment hits me hard. It was a hard decision for me to come to L.A. instead of going to San Diego to join up with the Rykers’ chapter there. I knew I would be taking a position that I considered beneath me, starting all over from the bottom, and this bitch wants to remind of that every opportunity she gets.

  “Don’t be a bitch just because your club belongs to us now,” I shoot back, turning to face her.

  “We don’t belong to anyone,” she hisses, “And as for me being a bitch, you happen to bring out that side of me.”

  “Good to know I have that strong of an effect on you,” I reply dryly.

  “Yeah, on my gag reflex,” she rolls her eyes.

  I laugh at her poor attempt at an insult. “Really? If I recall you didn’t gag a bit.”

  And my cock inside your mouth was the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.

  Mackenzie

  I flip Warren the bird as he drives off with a good portion of my fucking money. I hate that the Sinners took out Jiminez. That they own us now.

  Fuck. That.

  I also hate that I sucked that motherfucker’s cock. Damn it, I moaned when I did it too. Like I actually enjoyed the taste of his velvety dick on my tongue. I lick my lips and then clench my jaw at my response to my thoughts.

  I pull my phone out of my pocket and call Donia, anything to distract me from my own treachery. She picks up on the first ring.

  “We have a serious fucking problem,” I tell her.

  “Did you have trouble picking up the food?” she asks me.

  “I didn’t get the complete order. Another customer decided he wanted some of our tacos.”

  “Shit.”

  “Donia, this isn’t what we agreed to.”

  She’s silent on the other line. I wasn’t present when she met with Lucien, the Sinners’ president, but I know she would never agree to these terms. We were supposed to stay out of their way, and they were supposed to stay out of ours. Instead, they’re practically swinging their dicks in our faces, showing us who’s boss.

  “It won’t be like this for long,” Donia assures me. “We will abide by their rules, for now, bide our time. We made a move on them before, and we can do it again. We’ll be smarter about it this time.”

  We will definitely have to be smarter. We had our plan all mapped out last time. We knew when to hit the trucks, how to get them into our possession, and we were successful too, but we lost one of our own.

  That loss and the fear after they took out our supplier is the only reason we negotiated terms to return the product. I hate that we gave in. That they will forever hold that over us. We never should have returned what we took from them. They took a lot more from us in return.

  “What about our pledge?” Donia asks. “Has she come to you with anything new?”

  “No, but I’ll hit her up. Ask if she knows anything else. Tell her we won’t accept her pledge as a prospect if she can’t bring me something.”

  “She knew about their attack on Jiminez, so that was something, but you’re right. We need more.”

  “Any word on the supplier? If we can find out who it is, we can possibly arrange a meeting.”

  “I tried, but believe it or not, they have rules and are loyal to the Sinners since they’re the crew who took out Jiminez. They will continue to supply them until someone takes them out. That’s the way this works.”

  “Fucking Harper,” I grumble. “She ruined everything. She doesn’t deserve to be part of our club.”

  “If we don’t find a use for her soon, we’ll remedy that,” Donia replies. “Same goes for the pledge.”

  I agree with Donia and hang up. Hopefully, when we meet on Tuesday, she’ll have a plan in place for what we’re going to do about the Sinners. We have to finish what we started.

  If Harper gets in the way or can’t find her place in our club, she can be eliminated. Nothing is going to stop me, not even her.

  Chapter Three

  Warren

  I tap on Lucien’s office door and wait for him to tell me to come in. Once I get the go-ahead, I open the door and walk in his office, placing the collection on his desk.

  “How’d it go?” he asks me.

  “Pretty much like expected,” I reply. “She was fucking pissed, but I’m pretty certain she’s always pissed.”

  “I’ll have to tell Suggs he needs to lay the pipe more often,” Lucien jokes, and my jaw clenches in reflex.

  Not sure why that comment annoys me, but the thought of Christopher Suggs laying pipe to Mackenzie makes me want to scalp the baldheaded motherfucker.

  I don’t know him as well as Lucien does, but his reputation precedes him. He’s cold and ruthless, a hired hand who will take out anyone without prejudice. He may have helped us take down Jiminez, but I don’t like the asshole, regardless of the fact that he’s with Mackenzie.

  “How long do we want to play this game with them?” I ask him, and he knows exactly what I’m referring to.

  When we took Jiminez out, we took his money and product, having more than we knew what to do with. Lucien made contact with his supplier, Emilio Braga, but we haven’t had a face-to-face meeting, and that’s how he prefers it. Fine by me, but he made it clear that if there were any screw-ups, he would end us the way we ended Jiminez.

  He doesn’t do messy, and the attack on Jiminez was fairly messy. Several dead, although you won’t find any obituaries in the paper. The Sinners have to prove to him that we are worthy, able to move his product without issue.

  This is why Lucien decided on monitoring all of our shipments and deliveries made by Hell’s Fury. Before Jiminez’s untimely death, he had an exclusive contract with Hell’s Fury. Fuck, he even refused to sell to the Sinners.

  No one refuses us. He found that out the hard way.

  In order to keep the peace, Lucien agreed to allow Donia, the Hell’s Fury president, to sell the rest of the product and if all went well, we would continue to supply them the same as Jiminez did.

  This is one of those decisions I’m not in agreement with, but he’s the fucking president, and I understand that he’s trying to keep the peace. Stop the bloodshed between the two clubs. Perhaps he even believes this will right the wrongs that the former Sinners’ president, Ford Taylor, inflicted on the loved ones of Hell’s Fury. After all, that is why they came for us.

  “Until we see that they’re going to play by our fucking rules,” Lucien answers. “I trust Harper, but I don’t trust Donia one damn bit. I don’t even trust Mackenzie.”

  “They still want retaliation,” I assure him. “There’s no doubt about that. Probably even more so now that we’re in charge.”

  “They don’t cower easily,” Lucien agrees. “It’s somewhat respectable, but they will learn who’s in charge, one way or the other.”

  “And if they don’t? Harper going to be alright with you issuing the order to put an end to her club?”

  “Harper is with me first, her club second.”

  I don’t voice it, but I wonder if the same can be said for him. If he would ever turn his back on the Sinners for Harper. The club is always supposed to be first. Before family,
before old ladies, and definitely before yourself.

  Mackenzie

  I lie on my back, staring up at the ceiling while Suggs grunts on top of me, his release spurting onto my stomach. I look down, watching him stroke his dick until every last drop of his cum is expelled.

  I called him over to cheer me up after the delivery put me in a sour mood and normally, getting fucked good, would do exactly that.

  But not tonight.

  He collapses beside me, running a hand over his head and breathing deeply. His cock is deflating, and I didn’t even come. Damn.

  “What’s with you tonight?” he asks, noticing that something is wrong.

  “Nothing.”

  “Bullshit, Macks,” he replies. “You weren’t into that, and it was fucking obvious.”

  I get out of my bed and grab his t-shirt off the floor, using it to clean my stomach off as I head to the bathroom. I turn my shower on and step inside, praying that the hot water will do what Suggs couldn’t. Shake me out of this mood I’m in. Give me a clear head.

  Right now, our position seems hopeless. We are answering to our enemies, under their thumb. They fucking own us, and I hate that. I hate knowing that we go to the Sinners for our supply. That they take a cut of our profit.

  Shit, I can still see that asshole, Warren’s, smug face when he demanded their percentage. Hear his voice when he reminded me who the product belonged to.

  The one night we were together, the only time, he was different. He wasn’t cold and detached. He wasn’t aloof and alert.

  No, that night he was charismatic, playful even. There were also moments that we laughed while we fucked, changing positions numerous times and then falling into such passion that my boyfriend can’t get me off now.

  My pussy throbs at the memory and I reach down, rubbing my clit with my fingers. I press my forehead to the shower wall and moan, moving my hand faster, imagining it’s Warren there with me. The rough touch from his calloused hands, the scent of cigarettes and alcohol on his breath.

  “Let me help you,” Suggs says, stepping in behind me.

  I want to tell him not to, that I can’t allow him to touch me when my mind is on another man. I despise myself for thinking of Warren, for that memory being so etched into my brain that I can conjure it up as though he were standing in this shower with me.

  I want to rip that memory from my mind, especially when Suggs drives two fingers inside me, and I tell myself they belong to another. When he turns my head, capturing my lips, and I taste someone else.

  I shudder my release, managing to clamp my mouth shut to keep from saying the wrong name. Suggs gently kisses my shoulder, an act so out of character for such a violent man.

  He isn’t aware that I know exactly who he is, what he does. What he’s capable of. When he’s with me, he’s a loving and devoted boyfriend. Not the ruthless hired hand he has a reputation of being.

  “Better?” he questions me, smiling against my cheek.

  “Much.”

  I turn the water off and step out, handing him a towel before I grab one myself. His fingers might have helped me, but as far as I’m concerned, it wasn’t him that took me over the edge.

  “I have to go run some errands,” I tell him. “You can stay as long as you need to. Not sure when I’ll be back.”

  I don’t waste any time getting dressed and going into the kitchen to grab my keys. Suggs offers me the use of his truck again, but I decline and leave him in my house.

  I head out back to my garage and climb on my bike. I strap my helmet on and open the garage door. I start the engine, loving the way the bike rumbles between my legs as I pull out.

  After I talked with Donia, I sent a message to the pledge that we needed to meet. She was all too eager, mentioning that she might have some intel for me. Now that my body is satisfied, I need my curiosity taken care of.

  Chapter Four

  Warren

  Wiggie, our vice president, rides lead, and I follow behind with Reid. We’re scoping out another location to store our product since our warehouse was recently hit by the Sicarios.

  Granted, they didn’t get a damn thing from us, but that was only because we didn’t have any product at the time. We caught one of them, and as punishment, carved our brand in his chest and strung him up at one of their hangouts.

  Our war with them has been brewing quietly since Lucien took over as president. Although they don’t deal in the cocaine trade, which is what our product is, if they find out Jiminez is out, they might want a piece of our empire. I have already lost one club; I’ll be damned if I lose another.

  Wiggie slows and comes to a stop at a building with a “For Sale” sign outside the front. I come to a halt, killing my engine, frowning at the building I’m looking at. This is not a damn warehouse, not even close.

  “What the fuck is this?” Reid asks, practically reading my mind.

  “This is the address Lucien gave me,” Wiggie explained. “Said he wanted a legit storefront for us to move our product through and launder the money. Makes sense.”

  “No the fuck it doesn’t,” Reid argues, never being one to hold his tongue.

  “Let’s take a look inside,” I suggest before Reid gets his ass handed to him by our VP.

  Wiggie has the keys, so he unlocks the door and pushes it open. I follow him inside, Reid right behind me. It was an auto parts store, and most of the items are still on the shelves. Appears to have recently closed.

  “This could work,” Wiggie muses. “We can sell the parts and the product, launder the money right here in the store instead of using an outside source.”

  “Since when do we bother laundering our fucking money?” Reid complains.

  “Since we’re selling on a much larger scale now,” I reply. “We don’t know where our buyers are getting their money from. It’s safer if we launder it to ensure none of their dirty deeds come back on us.”

  “Don’t worry, Reid,” Wiggie tells him. “You’ll make a good stock boy here at the store.”

  “Fuck that!” Reid smarts. “I’ll be the damn manager.”

  I roll my eyes as the two of them bicker back and forth over what position they will hold here. Hopefully, Lucien will leave that job to our newest prospects. I’ve done my share of the shit jobs for this club, for both Ford and Lucien. The one I did for Ford still haunts me.

  Death is part of club life. I have seen more lifeless bodies than I care to admit, some of whose lives ended at my hand. I prefer not to torture my victims if I can help it and I truly dislike taking a woman’s life unless it’s absolutely necessary. They are the weaker sex, unable to defend themselves against a man, especially a man like me. If the decision is made to kill another woman, it will be mine.

  “I think we should make the purchase,” Wiggie says, on the phone with Lucien.

  I let the two of them talk and head outside for a smoke. I take my pack from my back pocket and place a cigarette between my lips. As I light it, a familiar flash of black and pink catches my attention.

  The car is gone so fast it’s difficult for me to be sure that it was Sabrina, but I’d bet my left nut that it was. I exhale the smoke, wondering what the fuck she was doing here. What game is she playing now?

  Mackenzie

  I survey the room, noting the disconnect between the members. How no one is talking and chatting the way we used to do. The children are in their usual area with the television and electronics, still behaving as they usually do. I see Layla there, Harper’s niece, and walk over to give her a quick hug.

  Although I’m not on speaking terms with Harper, I do miss Layla terribly. I spent nearly as much time with her as I did with Harper. We practically raised her after Harper’s half-brother, Gavin, died.

  “When are you coming back over?” Layla asks me, gazing up at me with eyes the exact shade of blue as her dad’s.

  “I’m not sure, sweetheart,” I answer honestly.

  “Mama said you and her were taking some time apart but th
at you would start spending time together again soon,” she informs me.

  I want to tell her that Harper is lying, but I can’t bring myself to do that. Layla is only a child, and she’s already lost so much.

  “I’m going to go show them what Lucien and Uncle Reid taught me,” she says. “They showed me where to find some hidden weapons! Uncle Warren taught me some cool hiding places too!”

  She’s excited, happy even, about what she’s learned from the man who is quickly becoming a permanent fixture in her life. Hell, she’s even calling Reid and Warren her “uncles.” I watch her go get a game controller, talking animatedly with the other kids while she points at the screen.

  “I never thought Lucien would be a Fortnite genius,” Harper says, coming up beside me. “Him, Reid, and Warren play all the time.” I ignore her, walking off to take my place at the table. “How long are you going to keep this up, Mackenzie?”

  I turn back, glaring at her. “Until you leave this club.”

  The disconnect between the members is her doing. Everyone knows she is with Lucien, that she withheld vital intel in order to protect him. Intel that cost us dearly.

  Donia may have issued her punishment, but the lashes didn’t change what she did and didn’t guarantee everyone’s forgiveness. It sure as hell didn’t grant her mine.

  Donia enters the room and motions for me to approach her. The meeting hasn’t officially started yet so I go to her, curious as to why she would summon me over before banging the gavel.

  “What did you find out from the pledge?” she questions me.

  “She didn’t know much. Said she overheard them talking about purchasing a new location to store their product. It’s an auto parts store that was for sale.”

  “Why in the hell would they buy a storefront property like that?” Donia wonders.

  “It’s pretty fucking smart actually,” I reply. “They can have a legitimate business that looks perfect on the outside with all of their product withheld on the inside. Much like Tammy’s Tacos.”