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

by J. L. Leslie

  Tammy’s Tacos is small potatoes compared to the amount of product we know the Sinners now have. They claimed two warehouses full of cocaine and revenue from Jiminez. All of his men were taken out, and the warehouses destroyed as a precaution. As far as we know, the Sinners only had one warehouse for storage, and it was compromised before. Chances are they had more, but we don’t know where they are.

  “What if we make the purchase first?” Donia suggests. “Use it as leverage over them.”

  “They will find another location.”

  Donia shakes her head. “Not if we find them first. We know what they’re after now.”

  “Do we have the revenue for that? To go around snatching up property?” I ask her.

  “We can get it,” she promises me.

  Looks like we’re going into real estate.

  Chapter Five

  Warren

  I adjust the collar of the button-up shirt I’m wearing, wishing that I wasn’t the one Lucien sent to finalize this damn dog and pony show. The last time I wore a collared shirt, I was on a double date with Lucien, Harper, and Mackenzie. Mackenzie busted my fucking balls all night.

  “Mr. Mathis?” the blonde woman seated at the front desk calls me. “Mr. Rutledge will see you now.”

  I stand up, smoothing out my khaki pants, and then follow her down the hall to the real estate agent’s office. I’m itching for a cigarette but fight the urge to reach for the pack in my pocket.

  “Mr. Mathis, thank you for arriving promptly. I’m Mr. Rutledge, the agent for the property on 21st and 3rd.”

  He extends his hand, and I lean forward to shake it. He doesn’t open the file, which I can see sitting on his desk, instead leans forward and rests his elbows on his desk.

  “I regret to inform you that we received an all-cash offer, higher than asking price, from another buyer and the seller couldn’t refuse it,” he explains. “I have some other commercial properties in the area that I can show you, that is, if their contract falls through.”

  “I’m sorry, are you telling me that you sold the property I already put an offer on? I thought I was coming in to finalize the sale.”

  He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Yes, sir. It was my intent for you to sign closing documents today; however, as I stated, the seller received a higher offer and did not refuse it.”

  “How the fuck does that happen?” I ask angrily. “We had a damn contract.”

  “There is a clause in the contract that states the seller can cancel the agreement any time prior to the finalization of the contract. It was not final. I do have some other properties in the area, but they are under contract. It’s possible those contracts could fall through, and then I could show them to you.”

  I stand up, not bothering to shake his fucking hand again. “I’ll get back with you,” I let him know and mumble my thoughts on how much of an asshole he is as I walk out of his office.

  I collide with a petite body, nearly knocking the poor woman over in my haste. I grip her arms to keep her from tumbling over and stare down at the last person I expected to see here.

  “My biggest apologies, Mr. Mathis,” the secretary says. “I didn’t realize you were still in with Mr. Rutledge.”

  Mackenzie stares back up at me, one eyebrow arched, her chest heaving. “You can let go of me now, Mr. Mathis.”

  She’s the buyer. Better yet, Hell’s Fury is the buyer. I’ll be damned.

  I let go of her, giving her a light shove, and I hear her chuckle. She brushes past me, shoving her shoulder into my arm as she does.

  I saunter past the secretary, already unbuttoning my shirt before I make it outside. By the time I reach the Suburban I drove today, I have all the buttons undone and have it untucked as well.

  I get inside the vehicle and wait.

  Mackenzie

  I smile sweetly at the agent, batting my eyes, and playing my part. I’ve spoken with him on the phone, made the offer and already wired the money, so this is a done deal. It’s the contracts for the other properties I’m concerned about.

  We don’t want the Sinners to gain control of any new location if we can stop them. If they struggle to find storage for their products, it will be easy to take it from them. Maybe not easy, but doable.

  “And about the other properties?” I ask him after I’ve received my copies for the purchase of the auto parts store.

  “I know you are interested in multiple properties; however, there are others interested too.”

  He licks his lips and eyes my cleavage, which I was certain to reveal enough to gain his attention. I’ve done my research on Mr. Rutledge. Most of his commission comes from his sales to women, often allowing them to bid after he’s made contracts with men. With the way he’s staring at my tits, I know why he was so willing to sell the store to me right out from under the Sinners.

  “But I want the properties,” I say in a pouting tone, standing from my chair and going around his desk. I drop to my knees and unbuckle his pants. “You want me to have them, don’t you?”

  He nods as I take his dick out of his pants, scraping my nails over the sensitive flesh before stroking it. The handjob I give him lasts all of three minutes, and when he’s done, I tuck the folder containing papers on all of the properties I’m interested in underneath my arm and leave his office.

  I am now the proud owner of an auto parts store. Well, the name on my ID reads as Marla Vanderwaal. I’m a wealthy heiress looking to purchase multiple commercial properties in the area.

  Of course, Marla Vanderwaal doesn’t really exist. Only on paper. She’s one of the many identities created for the DEA when snitches need a new life. I took this one for myself.

  I reach Suggs’ truck and open the door, tossing the folder inside. The sales for the other properties should be finalized within two weeks.

  “Tell me why you purchased the store.”

  The demand is made right in my ear at the same moment his hand snakes around my neck. The warmth from his palm and his lips so close to my flesh it makes my cheeks flush.

  “I’m interested in becoming an entrepreneur,” I smart, and he squeezes, slowly cutting off my air supply.

  “You’re still beautiful, even when you’re full of shit,” he hisses. “There will be other properties, Mackenzie. You will never defeat us.”

  I struggle to suck in a breath of air, and he tightens his hold. My eyes water and I know if he doesn’t let go soon, I’ll pass out. When my eyelids start growing heavy, he releases me, shoving me forward against the seat. I cough, taking in a deep breath.

  “Stay the fuck out of our way,” he warns.

  I’m so angry, I want to take the Beretta I know Suggs keeps in the glove box and put a bullet right in his back. But when we take the Sinners down, I would rather have them on their knees, begging for mercy.

  Especially Warren Mathis.

  Chapter Six

  Warren

  I’m pissed when I get back to the clubhouse. Pissed and fucking aroused. How does she do that to me? How can someone I harbor such hate for make me want to strip her bare and taste every inch of her body?

  I find Harco, exactly the man I’m looking for, and tell him to get his laptop. Harco used to be our enforcer before I joined the Sinners, the man with all the muscle who everyone feared. Apparently, he got stabbed in the dick, and it changed him.

  He stepped down as enforcer and became our tech guy, getting more and more savvy with computers. I suppose if your dick stopped working, you have to find a fucking hobby.

  “See what you can find on commercial properties for sale in the area and also those not for sale that could double as a legitimate business for us but have storage for our product as well,” I instruct.

  “Thought we finalized the purchase on that place downtown today,” he replies, opening an internet search engine.

  “Fell through,” I respond. “I want another location in mind before I go tell Lucien I got my nuts handed to me.”

  “Why am I se
arching for properties that aren’t for sale?” he asks, typing away on the keys.

  “Did you get more than your dick stabbed? Because you’re asking stupid fucking questions,” I snap and realize he legitimately doesn’t know the answer. “Money talks, that’s why. It might not be for sale now, but with the right offer, anyone will relocate.”

  “Gotcha.”

  It’s about damn time. He may be becoming a whiz on the computer, but the fucker lacks common fucking sense.

  “I’m going to go blow off some steam in the gym,” I tell him. “I’ll check back in a bit.”

  I change out of the ridiculous clothes I’m wearing and throw on a pair of gym shorts and tennis shoes, not bothering with a shirt. I make my way out back to what we call the gym, which is really a large workout room equipped with a bathroom and showers. It’s close enough to a gym for me. It has all the weights and machines I can handle.

  I open the door and step inside, instantly realizing that I’m not alone. Harper runs on the treadmill, a recent addition Lucien made for the old ladies. I ignore her as I go over to the supply shelf and grab a pair of gloves. I need the punching bag today.

  I get a few jabs in, warming up. It feels good to have the bag jarring my arms with each contact I make. It’s not as good as hitting flesh, but it’ll do.

  As I work the bag out, I wrack my brain, trying to figure out how Mackenzie knew we were interested in purchasing that property. How she managed to get her bid in before we finalized the sale.

  “Who are you picturing?” Harper asks me, and I glance over at her, confused. “The bag. You look like you’re picturing an actual person there. Who is it?”

  “No one,” I reply, which isn’t really a lie.

  I’m not imagining Mackenzie’s face on that bag because as much as I despise her, I can’t see myself physically harming her either. Sure, I might like to place my hands around her throat and give it a little squeeze, but any pain I dish out to her would end in pleasure.

  Harper slows the treadmill down to a walk, eyeing me curiously. “Did I see you leaving earlier with khakis and a button-up shirt on?”

  I keep punching the bag, figuring that ignoring her will get her to stop making an attempt at conversation. She knows I’m not a big talker. Everyone knows that.

  “You looked nice,” she lets me know.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask her, dropping my hands to my sides. “Didn’t Lucien get a place of his own?”

  “He did,” she responds. “But I’m looking after Leann’s garden until she feels up to taking care of it. I figured I could work out while I’m here too. At least until I have to go get Layla.”

  The mention of Leann makes my jaw clench. She was Soco’s old lady, and he was killed when we took out Jiminez, leaving her behind with their unborn child. Poor bastard didn’t even know she was pregnant.

  “Did you know what Mackenzie was doing today?” I question her, unable to stop myself.

  Harper knew when she stayed in Hell’s Fury that it would be damn near impossible to be part of both worlds. To have Lucien’s back with the Sinners and still be loyal to her club. So, I ask her knowing that if she does know something, there’s a big fucking possibility she won’t admit it.

  “No, I haven’t spoken with Mackenzie.”

  “Your club, Harper,” I smart. “Do they not tell you what their plans are?”

  She shakes her, her eyes full of sadness. “Not always. Whatever she did, whatever they are up to, I haven’t been filled in on.”

  I give her a slight nod, accepting that as her honest answer. If they’re leaving her out, then it means they don’t trust her. It also means their war with the Sinners is far from over.

  Mackenzie

  I sit at my desk, having gone into work after I finished up with Mr. Rutledge. The redness on my neck is gone, but it’s as though I can still feel Warren’s hands there. Scary thing is, I wasn’t afraid of him. Not once did I truly get the notion that he would actually harm me.

  Nope. He was aroused.

  His erection was pressed to my ass, the soft material of his khakis doing nothing to conceal it. He gets as hard for me as I get wet for him.

  “Mackenzie, do you mind bringing us some coffee to the conference room? We’ve been pulling an all-nighter.”

  I nod my response to my supervisor, Agent Redmond, and get up from my desk to go make a pot. Once it’s ready, I fill a tray with a few mugs and place the pot on it, figuring they will empty it and want more if they’ve been here all night.

  I’ve been working for the DEA since I graduated junior college with an Associate’s Degree in Criminal Justice. My brother, Matthew, wanted me to have a job that would keep me safe but also keep me in the know. This is that job.

  I’m able to obtain valuable information that not everyone else can gain access to. That information is what keeps me both safe and in the know. Makes me an irreplaceable asset to Hell’s Fury.

  I only wish I could have helped Matthew somehow, used my information to his benefit, but I didn’t have any intel on the Sinners at the time. Honestly, I still don’t have intel that can help us.

  I learned to stop looking for intel on the Sinners and the Sicarios. Both clubs have too many people in their pockets, too many top-ranking officials to pay off and keep their names out of the books. But I learned to start looking for intel on people I could use, things that would be beneficial to my club and me.

  I’m trusted at the office, so it wasn’t difficult for me to gain access to the agents’ files and see who they were watching and when they planned to make raids. I knew when they were planning roadblocks, random searches, and who their undercover agents are. This knowledge is what ensured Hell’s Fury’s confidential dealings with Anterio Jiminez. Of course, that was when he was still alive.

  I still have access to the intel; I simply need to find a new way to use it to my advantage. Use it to help the club.

  “Thank you, Mackenzie,” Agent Redmond says, taking a sip of the hot coffee I pour for him.

  As I walk around the table filling up their coffee mugs, they continue to talk as though I weren’t even present. I take it all in, glancing down at the photos of a dead body.

  “It took us over an hour to get him down. He’s a Sinner, so we’re about to have a fucking club war on our hands,” Agent Redmond states.

  I don’t recognize the Sinner in the photo. Maybe he was a new prospect or from another chapter. Either way, he’s dead, and his body was put out on display just like my brother’s was. I can’t really say I sympathize.

  “The Sinners have been under new leadership for quite some time, Agent Greene comments. “You think this has something to do with the Revenant?”

  Ugh. I hate that Lucien’s nickname stuck and that even the DEA refers to him as the fucking Revenant. He didn’t come back from the dead. Not literally anyway.

  Agent Redmond shrugs. “Jiminez is out, and from what we can gather, the Sinners have taken over his trade. Maybe someone’s making a play on the product.”

  As far as I knew, Hell’s Fury was the only ones making a play on the Sinners’ product, but we definitely didn’t kill this man. It’s not our style. But who would take a Sinner and inflict the same death on him that was done to the Hades Riders?

  “What about the Sicarios? Those sick fuckers would pull something like this,” Agent Greene suggests.

  I wouldn’t put it past them, but they’re more into sex trafficking and guns. They have no reason to have beef with the Sinners so long as they stay in their territory. Of course, the Sinners did kill one of theirs not too long ago. Could be retaliation.

  “It doesn’t seem like Tonto’s style, but it’s always a possibility. The guy was raped, and his damn head was bashed, not to mention the mutilation of the body. We’re waiting to hear back from the coroner on whether that was done post-mortem.”

  This could easily be a random killing, but if it made it here, to our office, then everyone knows it isn’t. It has
to do with the drug trade or the cartel, or it wouldn’t be in our office. Tonto could be behind it, but he’s usually not so careless.

  Right now, there are so many different players there’s no way to know who’s responsible.

  Chapter Seven

  Warren

  One of our own has been killed. Raped, beaten, and strung up like a pinata. I hate to say that aside from the whole rape bit, his death sounds pretty fucking familiar. Only we’re the ones on the receiving end this time.

  “The coroner is doing an autopsy to determine the exact cause of death,” Lucien says grimly. “Once we get his body back, we’ll inform his family and hold a service.”

  Poor kid just pledged to the club. He was still doing grunt work, running patrol and keeping guard at the warehouse. If you’re going to take one of us out, don’t go for a prospect. They haven’t earned their cut yet, much less a pain-filled death.

  “Church is dismissed,” Lucien states and then tells me to come to his office.

  I follow him in and close the door behind us. I can tell Lucien is pissed, and I can only wonder if he’s pissed with me, Billy’s death, or the fact that Hell’s Fury got the better of us. Again.

  “I should kill that piece of shit Rutledge. He sold that damn property out from under us,” Lucien growls.

  Question answered. He’s ticked off that Hell’s Fury screwed us over.

  “I can take Reid and dish out a little punishment if you want. Make sure he voids the contracts on the other properties. I have no doubt they made bids on them as well.”

  “Has Harco found anything on him?” he asks, and I shake my head.

  After I spoke to Harper, I finished working out and then came inside to see what type of progress Harco was making. Every commercial property within a five-mile radius is under contract with Curt Rutledge.

  Finding out he’s the agent listed for all of the properties, I told Harco to see what dirt he could find on the man. Anything we can use against him.