“Jose is a bastard. No one’s ever kicked my ass, but he has brought me to my knees…in front of the toilet…many times,” he grinned.
Heaven giggled and winced from the pain but felt a bit of relief. At least someone wasn’t a total dickhead to her today. If the Prez wasn’t pissed, the others could go fuck themselves. She was a damn Savage, cut from the same patch they were. “See you in a few,” she said, trying to crawl up out of bed to hobble to the shower. He left chuckling, locking the door behind him.
Heaven had done her damnedest to soak in as much water as she could to fix her dehydration, wishing she could just open her mouth and chug it as it came out. After looking up at the showerhead, she realized getting the shits from drinking Mexico’s water wouldn’t have been her only problem. The shower, and all of its fixtures, had never been accused of being sanitary, that was for sure. It had gunk and grime caked on so thick there’s no way it’d been cleaned in the last decade at best.
Her body hurt from head to toe, but her pelvic area ached and cramped. As she ran the little bar of soap over her body and across her folds, she couldn’t help but let out a gasp. She was so swollen and sore…yet as the night’s events flashed through her memory at her own touch, she felt the tingles start. How the hell had someone like Raven, all big, bad, alpha male asshole taken the time to satisfy her totally and completely? Hell, he’d went above and beyond that. At one point, it wasn’t hard and feral. He’d held and caressed her, taking his time to send her senses into a tailspin. If she had to guess what it was like to have someone make love to her, that would’ve been it. But it was Raven. So, slow and sensual might just be another way to change things up. They had fucked all night long, and half the morning. How the hell does one man come that many times? Hell, how the fuck did he keep it hard that many times? She stuck her face under the water to clear her thoughts and sighed. Damn, but even drunk, it was good. Hell, he’d fucked her sober somewhere along the way and made her sex drunk instead. Not many men could do that. None that she’d ever been with. She’d always thought of it as a fantasy. That shit only happened in books… Until last night.
Damn what a night. That nagging voice tugged at her subconscious. She’d been out drinking and fucking the pain away while Tami was enduring God knew what, again, all because of her. Heaven should have taken the girl out of there years ago. Her mother was unfit, and house or not, Tami wouldn’t be where she is right now if she had. She’d be protected by the club and by an army of men would lay their lives down to keep her safe and not reliving a hell she’d already conquered.
With a grunt, she flipped off the faucet and stepped out, grabbing the dingy, yet clean because it reeked of bleach, towel and dried off. It was thin and threadbare and did little to get the moisture off, but it was better than nothing. She grabbed her clothes off the sink, wrinkling her nose at putting dirty clothes on, but tramping naked to the room that had her bag in it wasn’t an option. So, she tossed her panties in the corner and opted to go commando instead of wearing the cream coated lace from the night before. She didn’t need a reminder the rest of the day of what’d gone down and how he’d acted. Right now, all of the guys were on her shit list and her only focus was going to be on those monitors and getting the girls back—or so she told herself.
*****
Rose tucked Harley in her bassinet and turned to Chevy. “This shit needs to end, Chev. I’m getting really tired of sitting back and allowing them to violate my home and my family. Hell, Sledge is still at the E.R. getting seen for the blow he took from that fuckin’ crow bar.”
“Yeah, Roads is back with the boys. None of ‘em are happy, that’s for sure. For now, you and this little princess can bunker down here until the shit storm passes.”
Rose sighed. “I just hate that even with both clubs, resources are spread thin. Abi and Shady aren’t the only badasses around here.”
“No…they aren’t. Have you heard talk about the Lady Riders?”
“What, the chick club the Ops girls were talking about starting up?” Her interest peeked. If she could do something besides sit around and wait for the next attack shit would be different. They’d have never gotten close to the clubhouse let alone ambush like they did last night. The motherfuckers would already be dead in a ditch somewhere.
“Yeah. Shady gave me the rundown. Instead of keeping the Ops and Savages totally split, the Lady Riders will be a mix of both Ops and Savages, thus sealing the bond even tighter.” Chevy grinned. They all worried about what would happen after the dust had settled. Tonto and Fork may be brothers, but it was inevitable the two would find something else to tussle about, and it would reflect on the alliance. This way, sibling rivalry stayed just that—between the siblings.
“Damn, that’s genius. Sign me up. Hell, I know a lot of the girls will be interested. I suggest we keep the rats out of it, and back on their knees taking care of the guys while we go kick ass though.” Rose thought about her words and stuttered. “N-not all the guys. The single ones. Little cunts get within five feet of my guys and they’ll be the first to dispose of,” she laughed.
Chevy giggled. “I know what you meant. And yeah, only the girls in our circle join up. But you know, if you don’t get those wild child sisters of yours some sort of structure, they’re gonna end up in jail or knocked up.”
Rose let out a deep huff. “Yeah. Lacey’s already fuckin’ Sledge. Definitely don’t want them joining the rat force.”
“What! Are you sure?” Chevy exclaimed.
“No, but I’m guessing her ratted hair and half torn shirt wasn’t from a bad nightmare last night. Sledge’s gonna get his ass handed to him as soon as I get a chance. He should know better, dammit.”
“Hey, they’re both of age and you know what that means. They are fresh meat in a steakhouse, babe. Sisters don’t get the same sort of hands off as kids or ol’ ladies. Get them on a bike and let’s get them patched up. If they have something to do besides spread their legs and party, it’ll settle ‘em down.” Chevy knew a little more than Rose did about her sisters’ wild ways. Heaven had come to her on many occasions to help rein the little shits in and hide it from the then extremely pregnant Rose. Now, Rose wouldn’t be tied to the bed and was sure to freak the fuck out when she got a look at how uncontrollable they’d become.
“Maybe so. I guess them being in this life is inevitable and the best option. At least they’ll be looked after. Hell, it isn’t like mom gives a shit. She’s still begging to come to one of the parties. Thank God Tonto knows how mortified I’d be and keeps her at bay. Even for her age, the guys still howl like wolves when she comes to visit.” Rose’s eyebrows drew together. She hated that her mom was the way she was, but at least she’d started being a mom.
“Hell, I know. If Ironman thought it wouldn’t cause ripples, he’d have jumped her a long time ago. Chief has to threaten ‘em all before she arrives. So, you in?”
“In?” Rose asked, sidetracked from their detoured conversation.
“Yeah, in,” Chevy laughed. “The Lady Riders.” Rose’s eyes went wide and she grinned.
“Oh hell yeah. It’s time people realized the Savages and Ops chicks were badass and didn’t fuck around.” She laughed. “It’ll be funny watching Tonto and Sandman when I hand Harley off to them for the night while we go ride. Give them a taste of her late night crankiness.” Both men surprisingly helped out a lot with the baby and took care of Rose, but never had they had her by themselves for over a day, let alone a week or two. Not that Rose could be away from her very long—but the idea was something to laugh at.
“God, it’d take both damn clubs called in as reinforcements to take care of her,” Chevy laughed. About that time, Harley woke for her bottle. Rose smiled and went to her, overly glad that nothing had happened to her when the Diablos attacked. Her baby was safe…and apparently a danger alarm to boot.
“Yeah. She’s gonna be hell on wheels, that’s for sure.”
Later that afternoon, the girls, and all the o
l’ ladies who had their own homes, were shuttled to the clubhouse for security measures. Raven—who now went by Rave since the arrival of the Ops and their member Raven who was a man—and her ol’ man, Chief, had managed to dispose of three Diablos the night before when they attempted yet another attack and busted in the front door. Little did they expect to find Rave waiting with a .410 pointed straight at the first gunman’s head. She’d pulled the trigger and split the bastard’s wig in two. The following two assailants tried to get retaliation despite being covered in their friend’s brain matter and bone, but ended up falling onto the body of attacker number uno when Chief nailed them both with a .45 straight between the eyes. With their walls now covered in blood and brains, she was a little more excited about the temporary move. Of course, the guys had been called to do a thorough clean up and made the bodies disappear before the cops came out to investigate the overheard gunshots, but left empty handed.
With the clubhouse overflowing and the outside cabins at max capacity, there were enough members around to keep their security airtight. “Not even the cockroaches that climb out of their disgusting pockets can get close now. My ol’ lady has enough firepower stashed around to take on the Army. Chev went shopping over at Jacks. You know the shit he smuggles in.” Chief grinned, still boasting over the shot Chevy had made when the fuckers broke in their house. “She’ll split wigs and spit on their bodies.”
Zeus, the big brawny bastard, who had a bald head, broad shoulders, and enough tats to fund the local tattoo artist with a new house, laughed. The scar that ran up the side of his head he’d gotten from a hatchet in a bad brawl only added to his lethal appearance. He was as rough and tough looking as they came, but underneath had a sense of humor and was as soft as the center of a tootsie pop. When it came to the girls, he’d plow over the priest to keep them safe. The few hours they’d been at the club, he’d been on them like flies on shit. He knew where each of the girls were at all times and had literally been kicked out of the bathroom more than once. His response, “I don’t care if you are popping a squat to take a leak or droppin’ a deuce. Ain’t no one gonna catch you with your pants down on my watch.” Sweet, but a bit over the top. The girls took it with a grain of salt and laughed, giving their appreciation with a giggle.
The Ops had offered some of their other chapters as assistance while the group was gone to Mexico. With Nomads from both clubs all housed in the area until Reyes was taken out, there wasn’t much even a mob of Diablos could do now. “Give me that baby. You need to go take a hot bath and relax, mamacita.” Charro, one of the Nomads for the Savages who obviously was of Mexican heritage, but only half, with his mother being a full blooded Cherokee Indian, cooed. Charro wore a black Stetson cowboy hat and big shiny belt buckle with his jeans and boots instead of the norm rocker look. Many had made the mistake of misjudging him and fell prey to the hatchet through their skull. He might have the name, but he embraced his inner Indian. He’d been caught with a few negative comments since the Diablos had walked in the picture, but they hadn’t walked away.
Rose looked at him in shock and shook her head. He reeked of danger…and despite the sweet offer of wanting her to entrust her daughter in his care? No way. “That’s very sweet, but I—”
“You are going to take a bath. I have six brothers and sisters, and all but one is older than me. I’ve changed diapers and made bottles most of my life. Now, get your ass upstairs. You look like hell.” Charro didn’t wait for an answer. He reached over and took Harley out of her arms, his face suddenly softening the moment he looked at her. “Hey, beautiful,” he hummed. That deep voice had become soothing and calming. Harley watched him carefully, her little bright eyes intoxicated with him. Rose stood in awe. She watched them, transfixed until he turned back to her.
“Mommy needs to go get her ass in the tub before I call Prez and tell him to punish her when he gets home,” he said in an uncharacteristically sweet coo. If not for the intensity in his eyes, she’d have laughed it off. With a huff, she turned and walked off, still in shock. Well, there was no doubts left about Harley being looked after properly. She smiled all the way up the stairs at the thought.
Chapter Eight
Gage stormed to his bike, relieved to get the hell away for some time to think. They’d found an abandon building not two blocks away from where the girls were being held captive and he’d volunteered to go in and set up base while the others were on lookout and manning the cameras. With a little more effort than necessary, he kicked the bike to life and roared down the dusty road without looking back. Dammit! Why the fuck did she have to look so hurt when he’d confronted her? And how was he too stupid to see that he’d hurt her before she fucked Raven? Life wasn’t supposed to have these complications. They rode. They drank. They fucked. And when shit got hot, they fought. There wasn’t room for emotional bullshit. Yet, jealousy ran so thick he saw green. Is that how she’d felt when she walked in with him balls deep in that tramp? Hell, he hadn’t even been interested in the bitch. Colt had been going on and on about nailing her so he was just along for the damn ride. Maybe it was time they parted ways. Colt obviously didn’t think of Heaven the way he did, and he sure in the fuck didn’t see Sahara the way Colt did. To him, she was a trampy stripper who’d been beat out one too many times and was a last resort kind of fuck. Heaven—she was different. The little hell cat wasn’t innocent by any means of the word. She’d had her fun at the parties, but instead of taking any cock shoved at her, she’d fucked who she wanted, how she wanted.
The sweat ran down his back, making him sticky and feeling dirtier than he already was in the dusty dry heat. “Fuck,” he grumbled under the roar of his bike. Between the heat and his thoughts, he prayed he’d see Reyes himself and get a chance to beat the son-of-a-bitch to death. He needed a fight, and focused his energy to the time they’d get the chance. Oh, yeah. Those motherfuckers were gonna wish they were never born. Never fuck with a kid. More importantly, never fuck with a Savage kid.
*****
Heaven walked in to the room three doors down from hers and stared in awe. Computer monitors and laptops with cords and devices attached spread out through the entire place. The beds had been removed and all of the desks out of the other rooms had been brought in and a control center complex enough to run NASA had been set up. With the military background a lot of the Savages and Ops had, their Intel capabilities were above impressive. The government couldn’t hold a candle to this group. “Hey. Please tell me this isn’t a Dungeons and Dragons tournament I’m walking into because I’ve never been a computer game geek.”
“It looks like something you’d see in a forty something fat ass’s room in the basement of his momma’s house, huh?” Shady laughed.
“Yeah, but I’m thinking these guys can hack into the pentagon if they wanted to,” Abi added.
“Thinking? Shit girl, we have,” Slider, one of the Ops, laughed. Fork cleared his throat and he shut up but the comment didn’t go unnoticed. The girls all shared a glance and their eyes went wide.
“You think you can hack into my bank account? It could use a little love,” Heaven laughed.
“Why?” a familiar voice said through the doorway. She turned and her face turned red. Shark’s eyebrow was arched and he held an expression she couldn’t tell was anger or protective.
“I’m just tired of barely getting by, that’s all,” she said quietly. The room went silent—all of the other conversations coming to a halt.
“Don’t the Savages take care of you?” Okay, so it was a mix of both. He took a few steps toward her, shooting a dirty look to Tonto who stood in the corner. He, of course, turned and stared at her, waiting for her answer.
She felt her throat constrict. “Of course. I have food, a roof. I’m just saying it’d be nice to have money to spend, that’s all.” Heaven waved her hand to dismiss the subject, but Shark wouldn’t let it lie.
“Do you work for the club?” he asked, pressing on.
She knew this wasn�
�t going to get any better if he kept interrogating her in front of everyone so she went to plan B. “Yeah. I work at the floral shop. It pays good. It’s my own fault really. I need to put in more hours is all,” she stammered. Which, to be honest, was a lie. She did work at the flower shop but put in over fifty hours a week and still barely made by. She’d been sending money back to Tami since she’d joined the Savages. Shark shot a toxic glare at Tonto, still radiating rage. Thankfully, Tonto rolled it off and nodded, communicating in some silent conversation she didn’t understand.
“Bullshit. You need money, you come to me. Do you understand?” he snarled. Oh, she had no doubt he’d give her a loan, but who knew what the interest would be, and Shark didn’t seem like the type of guy who’d want it paid back in cash. There was no way in hell she’d stoop to being someone’s prostitute to help her financial situation. This was the main reason she’d kept it to herself to begin with. Tonto wouldn’t do that to her, but there was no way she could have gone to him. One, it would make her seem to be ungrateful for what he had given her and two, there was no way in hell she’d transfer to the highest paying job they had—waitressing at the Pit. The Pit was an underground cage fighting operation that happened after hours when the legal fights ended. Devil’s Den was the legal side of the fighting world, and as legit as it was, it still handled rough crowds. Crowds Heaven didn’t want to deal with. Where it seemed bad, the Pit was worse. The girls dressed in damn near nothing and got amazing tips because of the sexual acts they did to get them. It was worse than stripping. Plus, all of the people that attended were the baddest of bad as far as she was concerned. The guys that came wouldn’t think twice before killing you for spilling their beer. Hell no. No way, no how. It didn’t matter how much the girls ranted about how tight security was, it couldn’t be that tight. There was always stripping, but once again, no way in hell. Pawn shops, a diner, a few casinos…all of them didn’t quite fit her. The flower shop did. Unfortunately, there were no tips in the flower business but it was of her own choosing.
Highway to Heaven Page 6
