SANGRE: Night Rebels Motorcycle Club (Night Rebels MC Romance Book 6)

by Chiah Wilder

  By the time the recording session ended, the sun had risen and cars dotted the highway past the studio as people made their way into town. Isla jokingly called that time of day “Alina’s rush hour.” In LA, it took her over an hour just to go fifteen miles, and when she told Sangre that, he thought she was exaggerating.

  “I’m going to have to drag you to LA for a visit, so you can judge for yourself. I also want to walk on the beach with you at sunset and feel the spray of the ocean air across my face as you hold me close.” How can I go? She shook her head in a vain attempt to rid any sad thoughts.

  “That’d be nice,” he said, squeezing her close and kissing her deeply.

  When they arrived at her house, bone-weary tiredness curled around all of her limbs, and she didn’t think she’d make it to the back door. The morning air was already warm, indicating that the day would be a scorcher. The whole neighborhood smelled of roses, and the sunlight brought back the greenish hues to all the leaves, plants, and grasses as it ushered in the new day.

  “Hi, Isla!” Carly’s cheery voice sounded tinny amid the chirping birds, the shrill droning of cicadas, and the low hum of distant traffic.

  “Hey.” She waved at her and the little girl skipped up the driveway. “Getting ready to set up your stand?”

  “Daddy’s taking it out of the garage now. I put some more decals on it.” She gripped Isla’s wrist. “Come see.”

  Isla turned to Sangre as Carly tugged her along. “Come and see it with me.” She laughed brightly when she saw his are-you-fucking-kidding-me face, but gestured him to follow her nevertheless. Stone-faced, he walked behind, stopping next to her as Colt came over with the folded booth.

  “You’re up early,” he said, opening out the stand.

  “I’m just coming back from a long recording session.”

  “Hi, Isla,” Faith said, coming over to her with Letty in tow.

  “Hi. You know Sangre, right?” Faith nodded. “I’ve been at the studio all night, and I’m pretty beat.” She turned to Colt. “Do you know Sangre?”

  “Not really.” He glanced at him. “I’ve seen you on your Harley Davidson. Awesome bike.”

  Sangre gave him a chin lift.

  “Here are the new decals,” Carly said pointing to several lemons making funny faces.

  “They’re so cute.” Isla turned to Sangre. “Don’t you think they’re adorable?” She laughed inwardly, knowing how much he hated every minute of mingling with the neighbors.

  “We should get back.” He tugged at her upper arm.

  “Okay.” As she started to say goodbye, she dug in her purse and took out two orange tickets. “I almost forgot. Here are two VIP vouchers for the band’s show this Saturday at The Rear End.” Carly and Letty giggled and clasped their small hands over their mouths.

  “Thank you,” Faith said, her eyes shining. “It’s been forever since Colt and I went out alone.”

  “The tickets get you in the door and give you a reserved table. It’ll be a good show. Iris Blue is headlining, but there’s an awesome band from Denver—Immortal Sÿnn—that is direct support, and a local band that’s opening. Oh, the food is pretty decent there too.”

  “What do they have?” Colt said, taking the vouchers from his wife.

  “Burgers, wings, nachos, soups, salads … stuff like that. The menu is fairly big.” She glanced at Sangre. “You’ve eaten there before and like the food, right?” Jutting out his jaw, he nodded.

  “Sounds like a good time. I’ll call around and get a babysitter,” Faith said.

  “We’ve gotta go,” Sangre said, pulling Isla away.

  “Okay. Thanks again, Isla,” Faith said.

  “You’re welcome,” she answered, rushing to keep up with Sangre’s long strides. “What the hell?” she said softly.

  “The conversation was done, two minutes after we went over. You need to get some sleep.”

  She smiled at his concern and let him lead her into the house. In the kitchen, she poured two glasses of orange juice and put them on the granite breakfast bar. “Did you want something to eat?”

  He gulped down the juice. “Nah. We need to get some sleep. How often do you pull all-nighters?”

  “Not very often. Terry Z is a taskmaster, so we’ve done more with him than all the other recording studios combined. He’s the best, so it’s worth it.”

  “You’re pretty friendly with your neighbors.”

  “I tend to be that way.” She poked him lightly in the ribs. “Remember when you moved into our neighborhood?”

  “Best move ever.” He winked at her. “Are your neighbors from here?”

  She put her glass down. “Faith and Colt aren’t. They moved here from Omaha. I think she told me it was about five or six years ago. The Elderberrys, on the other side of me, are from here. They’re an older couple, and Eleanor will come over and water my plants and flowers if she thinks they need some loving care. I’m grateful that she does that, because when I get busy, I tend to forget about everything. The Farrells, from across the street, have the cutest baby and dog. I think they’re from Denver.” She went to the fridge and came back with the carton of orange juice and poured another glass for her and Sangre. “Having neighbors I actually talk to beyond ‘hi’ is an anomaly for me. In LA, I’d be lucky to even see my neighbors, let alone talk to them.”

  “I guess. For now, you need to put the brakes on being too friendly since everyone is a suspect.”

  “And I thought I was paranoid.” She laughed and put the empty glasses in the dishwasher.

  “You just never know. Even the old lady is a suspect.”

  “Eleanor? No way.” Standing behind him, she wrapped her arms around him and kissed his neck. “I think the lack of sleep has made you delusional. Let’s go upstairs,” she murmured against his skin.

  When they went into her bedroom, Sangre walked over to the window and stared out for a few minutes before closing the shutters. After shrugging off his clothes, he went into the bathroom. Isla pulled out a short nightshirt from her dresser, peeled off her clothes, and slipped it on. She shuffled to the bed and slipped between the cool cotton sheets.

  “You smell fresh,” she said to Sangre as he approached the bed. “I should probably take a quick shower too.”

  He slid in behind her, his arm looping around her waist, and pulled her to him, so her butt was against his stomach. “You smell sexy and wicked. Just the way I like it.”

  She placed her hand on his, and an overwhelming sense of comfort filled her. “You make me happy,” she whispered.

  He scattered feathery kisses on the side of her face. “I’m glad. You do all kinds of shit to me.” His strong arm pressed her closer, fusing them together, and his warm breath on her shoulder brought goosebumps to her skin.

  This is so perfect. I never want it to stop. Feeling protected and cherished, her eyelids grew heavy and her breathing became slower and deeper as she dropped off to sleep.

  Chapter Twenty

  Sangre sat watching Steel and Paco as they mulled over what Sangre had just proposed: finding the serial killer who’d taken the lives of four women in their small town.

  “You want us to become badges?” Steel asked.

  “I’m just asking for some backup. Got a gut feeling that Isla is on this crazy asshole’s hit list. I’m gonna look into it because I think the connection is Jefferson High School. I just want to make sure that if I need some help with it I’ve got your okay to involve the other brothers.”

  Paco pressed his lips together. “I don’t see why not. I know when all that shit went down with Chelsea, and I needed the club’s support, they were right there for me. We’ll stand behind you.” He glanced over at Steel. “I think I’m speaking for you, too.”

  Steel nodded. “Just let us know what you want us to do, and we’re there for you, bro.”

  Sangre stood up, walked over to Steel and clasped his hand on his shoulder, then he did the same to Paco. He walked out of the room and made his w
ay to the bar. When he entered the main room, he saw Crow, Shotgun, Skull, Diablo, and Muerto sitting at a table playing cards. He dragged a chair over and joined them.

  “What’s going on, bro?” Diablo asked, placing a card down on the table. “Did you talk to Steel and Paco?” Sangre nodded. “They said it’s cool, right?” Again Sangre nodded. “Just let me know if you need my help, and I’ll be there for you. You know it.”

  “Same goes for me,” Crow said.

  “You know I’m in,” Muerto added as Shotgun and Skull bobbed their heads in agreement.

  Pride swelled inside Sangre and he lifted his chin at his brothers. “I’m gonna get this fucker. There’s no damn way I’m letting him hurt Isla.”

  “We hear you, dude.” Muerto waved over one of the prospects. Ink came over carrying a tray with a fresh round of drinks for all of them.

  “Would Isla be cool about getting the band to sign my sister’s CD? She’s been bugging the hell out of me ever since the show a few weeks ago. I wanna give her the signed CD so she’ll shut the fuck up,” Skull said.

  Sangre sniggered. “Sure. Give me one and I’ll make sure Isla does it.”

  “Of course Ella and Zoe want to go to the show on Saturday.” Skull took out a joint and lit it.

  “That sucks for picking up chicks.” Sangre looked at Diablo’s cards and nudged him. “Great hand,” he said in a low voice.

  “Raise fifty bucks.” Diablo looked stoically at the other players.

  “Fold.” Skull put his cards face down on the table then placed them onto the discard pile.

  “So soon?” Crow shook his head.

  “I gotta pick up some stuff for my mom.” He pushed away from the table. “I wanna talk to you for a sec,” he said to Sangre.

  The two men stepped outside and the hot air circled around them.

  “What’s on your mind?” Sangre asked.

  “What you said about not being able to do the Skull magic with the chicks is absolutely right. Ella and Zoe are definitely cock blockers. Since you’re not looking for a chick, I was wondering if you could keep an eye on them for me while I hit on some women.”

  “How do you know I don’t wanna hit on anyone?”

  “I figure you’re there with Isla, and I know the friend talk is bullshit. Actually, we all know, so Army wasn’t able to get anyone to bet on it.”

  “That fucker. I oughta beat his ass.” Sangre chuckled.

  Skull laughed. “He’s always got an angle to pick up some extra cash. Anyway, can you help me out? I like hunting for new pussy.”

  “I hear ya. I’ll keep an eye on them, even if you want a quick fuck in the back.”

  “Cool. I owe you.” Skull stubbed out his joint on the pavement. “Are you going to the party tomorrow night?”

  “I was thinking about it. We got a lot of brothers coming from different clubs.”

  “I heard most of the Fallen Slayers will be here. It’ll be a good time. Maybe you can get them to go to Iris Blue’s show on Saturday.”

  “I think it’s sold out. I’ll ask Isla.”

  Skull jingled the keys in his hand. “I better get going. I’ll see you later.” He ambled over to a canary yellow Harley.

  Sangre watched him until he disappeared, then he took out his phone and called Isla.

  “Hi, sexy.” She laughed softly. The sound of her voice—light, breathy, smooth—gave him a rush that made his pants tight and his imagination work overtime.

  “Hey, hot stuff. What’re you up to?”

  “Writing lyrics. The guys are coming over to jam later on. We want to record two of the new songs. I like you calling me ‘hot stuff.’ Makes me tingle all over.”

  “I wish I was there to make you do more than that. I fuckin’ need to be with you. I’m hard just hearing your voice.”

  A breathy laugh. “Just from hearing my voice? Poor boy.”

  His cock strained against the denim fabric. “Everything you do makes me hard.”

  “I can fix that.” He heard her smack her lips, then a low chuckle. “Come over here.”

  His dick groaned. “You don’t know how bad I want to, but I’m meeting with two clients who want security, then later I’ve got an appointment with Chains to go over club business. I’ll come over after that.”

  A loud sigh. “The guys will be here until real late. We have to get the songs perfect before we go into the studio tomorrow.”

  “Fuck, babe. I miss you.” If Army, Crow, Chains, Shotgun, or some of the other brothers had been standing there, they would’ve had a field day with that one. But he did miss her, and it wasn’t just the sex, although being inside her was incredibly hot. He missed holding her, talking with her, listening to her sing as she wrote lyrics. What he missed was everything about her. Yeah, the brothers would be outta control over this.

  “Me too. Let’s go out to dinner tomorrow night. I should be home from recording around six. Does that sound like a plan?”

  “The club’s having a party here tomorrow night. A lot of officers from other clubs will be there. I want you to go with me.”

  “That’d be great.” Her voice squeaked with excitement, making her sound adorable.

  “Don’t be so eager. Biker parties aren’t like the average citizen’s party.”

  “I’m sure they’re not any wilder than rock parties or Hollywood parties with the too-much-money set. Believe me, I’ve seen it all.”

  “I forgot you live in LA and are jaded.” He smiled when he heard her crack up on the other end. “Even though you’re experienced with all kinds of debauchery, I’ll have to go over the rules with you before you step inside the club. The way you look, you’ll be deer to the hungry lions that’ll be here tomorrow.”

  “Definitely sounds like a Hollywood party at around midnight. I’m looking forward to it. Thanks for asking me. I’ve been reading up on biker clubs, and women who aren’t there to put out are usually not included in the club’s activities. Reeks of chauvinism, but hey, it’s your club.”

  “It’s more than my club. It’s my world … my life, and I wanted to show it to you. I saw a glimpse of yours at the studio the other night, and it’s time you get a look at mine.”

  “Did all your old girlfriends get to party with you?”

  “Nah.”

  “How come?”

  “I didn’t want them to.” And that was true. He kept his relationships at arm’s length from his world. Some of them would ask him to take them to the club or the parties, but he never felt like sharing that part of him with any woman until Isla came back into his life. Now he wanted her to be a part of everything, and he wanted to know her world as well.

  Silence fell between them, and he wanted to tell her that he never cared or wanted a woman to be part of his life like he did with her, but instead, he glanced at the time then cleared his throat. “I gotta meet the first client. Mark is on duty tonight, and your band mates will be with you. If anything spooks you, or you need to talk, call me. Do you want me to come by to take you to the studio in the morning?”

  “No. The guys will probably crash over tonight, so I’ll just go with them.”

  His stomach hardened and he clenched his jaw. “I don’t like that fuckin’ drummer staying over without me there.”

  “It’ll be fine. By the time we’re done, everyone’s so damn tired that they usually crash on the sofa and floor even though I have three guest rooms. Don’t worry about Benz—I’m in control, not him. You trust me, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I do. I just don’t like that asshole.”

  “He’s really okay. You just don’t know him. It’s all good.”

  “I’ll call you later.”

  Sangre went over to his Harley, bitterness punching at his gut. The idea of the ass wipe spending the night at Isla’s burned deep inside him. The reaction took him by surprise since he wasn’t the type to be jealous, but when it came to Isla, everything was upside down; she got to him in ways no other woman ever had. He pulled over hard
to the left lane and hammered it, moving through traffic like a falcon through the trees.

  Upon arrival at the office, Sangre had reached a decision: he wouldn’t go over to Isla’s that night. Every fiber in his body wanted to, but he wasn’t sure what he’d do to Benz, and he didn’t want Isla to think he didn’t trust her. She told him she’d be working late, so he’d call her a few times, but he wouldn’t go over. Sangre switched off the engine and headed inside to meet with the company’s new client.

  * * *

  “Remember to stay close to me. If you have to go to the bathroom, I’ll go with you and stand outside the door. You’re not wearing my patch, so the men who don’t know you will think you’re fair game, and there’ll be a lot of brothers here, and the way you look right now, there’ll be a lot of trouble if one of them messes with you,” Sangre said when they arrived at the clubhouse.

  When he’d gone over to pick up Isla earlier that night, she’d greeted him in a short black skirt and a tight-fitting top that showed off her cleavage. Without missing a beat, he had her in his arms, kissing and touching her all over. His lust had been palpable; it’d filled the room. He’d taken her right there, on the floor, her legs wrapped around his waist as he pounded in and out of her until she cried out as she rode the wave of ecstasy. After a few more pumps, he followed her orgasm then rolled onto his back, tucking her close to him as they’d lain sated on the cold tile floor. Just remembering it now made him tilt her head back and crush his mouth on hers.

  “Wow,” she said against his lips.

  He pulled away. “Just stay close to me.”

  “If you’re trying to scare me, it’s not working.” She looped her arm around his waist.

  “I’m just telling you like it is.” He draped his arm over her shoulder and held her close.

  As they approached the club, she slowed down a bit. “There’re a helluva lot of men outside.”

  “There’re a helluva lot of men period. At parties it’s usually ten men to every woman.”