Fury: Sons of Chaos MC

by Paula Cox

  Sitting there next to Tex, it had felt like things were confusing, but they'd manage to work everything out. Now, things felt...very different. Confusing, scary. Like she'd obviously misunderstood everything that really mattered. Because why would anyone carry a torch for her for so many years? How was that even a possible thing? She wasn't anyone special. Not like Danny. Danny had been meant to change the world; she was just his kid sister, tagging along. After he died, the house she shared with her mother had been empty, purposeless. Tangled up, filled with ghosts. She'd hated it.

  She'd made her peace with it, but she'd always hated it.

  Summoned by her thoughts, the LED display on the dash lit up with a selfie her mother had taken. Janis Hendricks had kept her easy good looks well into her 50s. She applied makeup effortlessly, bought drugstore beauty products and maintained flawless skin, and if she was dying her hair, Jessie hadn't managed to catch her at it. When they went anywhere together, tourists assumed they were sisters. Jessie didn't begrudge her mother the natural good genetics she clearly had, but it was hard when your own mother made you feel like an ugly duckling in your late 20s.

  She tapped the hands free control on the steering wheel and called out "Hi, Mom. What's up?"

  "Just checking in," Janis said. "Mrs. Hillis said she saw you heading out of town, and I wondered what adventure you'd been on."

  Well. This had gotten real substantially faster than she'd anticipated. "Mom? Do you remember Cody Brewer?"

  "Of course I do, the sweet little boy who lived next door. He was best friends with your brother, God rest him. Why?" Mom paused for a moment, and before Jessie could find the right words, Janis continued, her voice hushed now. "Jessie Jane. I saw a man in town the other day, on a motorcycle, parked, talking to Detective Pedroza. I couldn't place him at the time, and I didn't want to walk any closer to that death machine, parked or not, but his eyes stayed with me all day long."

  "That was him," Jessie said. "He goes by Tex now, his middle name. He's back in town."

  Janis was quiet for a long, long moment. Jessie imagined the different emotions her mother was probably ricocheting through. Janis had only commented on Cody—Tex—once. Drunk as a skunk, Janis had shouted at the moon that it wasn't fair, it wasn't fair that God had given the Brewers so much, and had still taken her boy instead of theirs. It had made Jessie more than a little sick to her stomach to hear her mother speak those slurred words, but she'd also felt a deep resonance to them. She had wanted her brother back so much then, she would have agreed to almost any bargain to get him by her side, sleeping in his own room again.

  "You've seen him," Janis said, her voice as quiet and calm as it was in church. "You and him."

  "I've seen him," Jessie confirmed. "I don't know what else. He's different. So am I. But there's—no one else remembers Danny anymore. It was...good to be with someone who remembers. It made me feel...free."

  Her mother gave a little gasp, and it sounded like something inside of her had cracked and given way. "Well," she said, in the most fake and false tone that Jessie had ever heard from her mother, "if that's how things are going to be, you'll need to bring him by for dinner."

  "Mom -"

  "No," Janis said. "I'm—it'll be fine, Jessie. I know, I know I was horrible all those years ago, and there's part of me that still feels that way, I'm not going to lie to you, but if I was angry that my living daughter was happy, I'd be no kind of Christian. I'll make my peace, and you bring him over for dinner." She was quiet for a moment, and Jessie listened to the road noise under her tires, waiting for whatever came next. "That motorcycle of his, though. It's a death trap, Jessie. Don't you forget it for a moment.”

  "I won't, Mom," she said, thinking of how amazing it had felt to fly over the road with nothing keeping her safe but that helmet—which had seemed big and awkward when she put it on her head, but incredibly small once it was the only thing between her skull and the pavement—and Tex's skill.

  Mom let out a huge sigh. "He already took you for a ride, didn't he?"

  Jessie let her silence speak for her. The only words she could think to say were I'm sorry and that was definitely not the image she wanted to convey just now.

  Mom groaned, and let out a very ladylike curse. "Jessie, listen to me, all right? Your daddy convinced me he was worthwhile on the back of one of those horrible machines, and I loved Danny and I love you with every cell of my flesh, but they're a damnation and a terror, and they make men forget to be human. Don't you let him seduce you out of the things you know are right and good."

  "I won't, Mom," Jessie repeated, and then said her goodbyes. After her mom ended the call, she let the car drift to a stop, pulling off to the side of the road for a moment. I let your daddy convince me he was worthwhile on the back of one of those horrible machines.

  Everything Tex had said to her made sense, all of a sudden. She believed every word of it, doubted nothing. She hadn't realized until right then that she'd been holding out some kind of hope that he was wrong, that Johnny "Smokey" Hendricks was a criminal who made shitty drugs and who had done nothing worthwhile in her life except for make her and her brother. He was responsible for Danny's death. Tex wanted to hold the motorcyclist accountable, and she was down with that, she was very ready for that plan, but before she was done, she was going to look John Hendricks in the eyes and spit in his face.

  Her hands were shaking, but her eyes were dry when she pulled back onto the road.

  Chapter Twelve

  Tex waited a little while before stepping back out to the barn and mounting up again. He had business in town, but he didn't want Jessie to be a part of it. Not yet. She'd hate him if she could hear her thoughts, but he just wasn't entirely sure of her yet. He was sure of her commitment, of her resolve, but there were plenty of hotheads who couldn't pull a trigger when push came to shove, and plenty of mild-mannered everyday folk who would do it without a second thought. You just couldn't tell until you were looking down a barrel and making that decision.

  Did he want her to be the person who could pull the trigger? Did he want her to stay on the right side of the law? He wasn't sure, but he did know that he wanted to give her plausible deniability until the very second when it was no longer an option. Ultimately, what he wanted was for her to make the choice. If she took the shot, he wouldn't think less of her, he would just know something about her. If she couldn't, well, that was fine, too. He'd be there to make sure it got done. That was the point of having a backup.

  He waited a solid fifteen minutes, then headed out. The bikes were mostly cleared out of the barn; Take had probably taken the club south for supplies. They'd been avoiding doing much business in Castello – part of maintaining their low profile, keeping the Racketeers from realizing what was going on.

  He drove into Castello, but instead of heading down the main drag, where he theoretically could have bumped into Jessie at Delilah's Do, he went around the outskirts of the town, heading to the cop shop from the north. He wouldn't be heading directly into the precinct headquarters, either; Eddie was too smart for that. Even in his businessman drag, Tex stuck out like a sore thumb. None of the Racketeers would recognize him, he was positive of that, but the cops; cops were different. Cops were trained to notice things, and they'd see through his disguise in a heartbeat.

  He was supposed to be a bad guy scared into going straight, and he was selling that image with everything he had. It would work well for the upcoming moves, but if the cops smelled it on him, they'd be all over him, and that was exactly what he did not need.

  Eddie—Detective Eduardo Pedroza—was sitting at the same little table in the same little twee tourist cafe as the last time. Eddie was solidly built. He was too much muscle to be called stocky, but he had a chest like a barrel and arms that came from lifting, legs that could run a marathon. He wore a tight beard along his jawline, a brush of scruff over his upper lip, and his dark hair was only just starting to thread with white at the temples. His skin was a warm, light brown
, and his broad face kept a neutral expression as he glanced over at Tex.

  Tex walked past the off-duty cop and ordered himself a mocha and a chocolate chip cookie. He hated mochas—he didn't even like coffee all that much, but when he did drink it, he wanted it black—but it went with the image. He accepted the cup, dropped his change into the tip jar, and then looked around the cafe.

  The place was jam packed, and Eddie's table had one of the few empty seats. Tex walked back, cleared his throat to get the detective's attention, and then gestured at the chair. "Place is pretty full," he said. "Would you mind if I sit here for a few?"

  Eddie shrugged. "Don't mind at all," he said, taking a moment to pull his newspaper and his cellphone back towards him so that Tex could ostensibly have some room on the table. He snapped the paper up so that he could read it, then said, "She fell for it?"

  Tex nodded, sipping his disgustingly sweet beverage. He hated milk. His bones would hate him for it some day, but it tasted horrible. "Hook, line, and sinker," he said. "She's in. She'll get me the space at Delilah's shop."

  "You're sure?"

  Tex pulled out his phone and opened up his guilty pleasure app. The cafe had set up a lure, and there was a pocket monster on his screen in moments. "Completely. I'm not going to say she'd do anything I wanted, but she understands."

  "How much did you tell her?"

  "Enough to get her interested, not enough to get us in trouble. Clearly. I'm not new at this, Eddie."

  Eddie coughed, and there was a sharp pain in Tex's shin, which had to come from a sharp dress shoe smacking into the space between the shin and the lower leg bone. Tex had to fight to hide the wince. He had no idea how Eddie pulled that shit off without looking; the man insisted it came from being oldest in a passel of kids, and being the one in charge of keeping them in line. "Did you fuck her?"

  "What? How the hell is that your business?"

  "Because it puts both of us in danger if you did, asshole," he said. He glanced over the paper and shook his head. "You puto. I cannot believe you fucked her."

  "Shut your mouth," Tex said.

  "Amateurs. Keep your penis in your panties, for Christ's sake. I am not going down like a dirty cop because you needed to chase tail."

  "Hey," Tex said, his tone a little sharper. "Do not talk about her like that."

  Eddie's expression changed, but he didn't look any happier. "Great. You don't just want to screw her, you love her to? Do I need to remind you what we're doing here?"

  "Nope," Tex said. "I'm clear on what this is. Are you?"

  "Just so long as she fell for it," Eddie reiterated, snapping the paper again.

  "It's in the bag, old man," Tex said. He finished his horrible drink, then stood, dropping the disposable cup into the trash on his way by.

  His guts twisted at the idea that he'd lied to Jessie. She didn't deserve this. She was so clearly willing to help him, so willing to go all the way with this, but the things that were coming up next—he had to lie to her to get what he needed. He couldn't take the risk that she'd say no.

  His father used to say that it was better to ask for forgiveness than permission. He hoped to God that would turn out to be true.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sending Mrs. Harrisburg out the door after her weekly blowout, Jessie couldn’t help but laugh at how much had changed in the last seven days. From the outside, everything looked basically the same. Delilah’s Do was doing a brisk business, and Delilah herself had taken off early on a weeknight, leaving Jessie there to mind the shop and close up the place at the end of the night. Nothing too fancy.

  But down the hall, where previously there had been an awkward out-of-towner giving not very helpful massages, there was Jessie’s…well. Calling Tex her boyfriend didn’t entirely feel right. Sure, they were spending most nights together, sure, he gave her some of the most mind-blowing orgasms she’d had in her life, but boyfriend felt more like “going out together on dates and meeting each other’s parents” not “plotting to avenge a murder, with a side of sex.”

  Well, whatever he was to her, he was also gorgeous. Tall and lean, with corded muscles on his biceps and shoulders. Jessie had been more than a little concerned that Tex wasn’t going to take the whole thing seriously, but after she’d told Delilah that she might have found them a massage therapist, Tex had shown up with accreditations and certificates and licenses. Delilah had paid him for an hour’s massage, to test out his skills, and come out of the massage room absolutely glowing. “Hits all the right spots without even hinting at impropriety,” Delilah said with a big smile. “He’s hired. You’re sleeping with him, right?”

  Jessie had felt her cheeks light up. “I don’t know why you’re assuming-”

  “Oh, please,” Delilah had said, her smile widening. The older woman had been running the salon since Jessie was just a little kid, and it was generally agreed that she knew anything worth knowing in Castello. “Your eyes follow him like you’re a puppy and he’s a slice of bacon. And I’m not saying I don’t understand why; I’m a lesbian, not blind.” She nodded after a moment. “It’ll be better this way, anyway. You’ll keep him in line, and he won’t mess around with the resort kids and annoy everyone. I like it.”

  Jessie had stuttered something about how it wasn’t like that, and Tex would keep himself in line. Delilah raised one impeccably sculpted eyebrow, and then turned on her heel and walked away, ostensibly to file some paperwork. It was hard to be irritated with someone who was twenty years your senior, and right.

  Janis, her mother, had been calling regularly, trying to convince Jessie and Tex to come over for dinner. Jessie hadn’t been able to bring herself to do it, not yet. It would put some kind of official stamp on their relationship that she just wasn’t sure she was ready for. Tex didn’t seem to mind. At least, Jessie hoped he didn’t mind. It was hard to tell, sometimes; he was a master of keeping himself to himself. And of sweeping in to nip at her earlobe when she was asking pesky questions. She couldn’t always bring herself to make him stop. After all, what was the point? They hadn’t talked at all about what was going to happen after they avenged Danny’s death. And if she were honest with herself, how many guys who spent their free time riding around on motorcycles as outlaws really wanted to settle down and start a family? And as amazing as it felt, clinging to him as they road the mountains and highways around Castello, was that the life she wanted forever?

  It was simpler to keep things casual, which meant keeping him and her mother far apart. Which, of course, was harder to manage than it sounded. Janis had asked Jessie to bring Tex over as soon as Jessie had mentioned him. She’d been coming up with reasons to avoid that reunion for days now. Her mother wasn’t going to put up with it for much longer, but Jessie couldn’t bring herself to face the day her mother would eventually ask “What ever happened to your boyfriend?” One of these days, Tex was going to ride that sexy motorcycle off into the sunset and disappear. And when that happened, Jessie had every intention of pretending that he’d never even existed. He was a sexy fantasy. Because the idea of having him and then having him disappear all over again made her a little nauseated.

  Once Mrs. Harrisburg was on her way, Jessie checked the clock. Ten more minutes before she could lock the door. She glanced back into the massage room, and saw Tex wiping down the massage chair. She stood in the doorway for a moment, enjoying the flex and play of his forearms under his substantial tattoos as he carefully cleaned the chair of dust and sweat from his last client. He didn’t glance up at her, but the way his motions slowed and became more deliberate made her think he’d noticed her presence.

  “How was your first day?” she asked.

  “Not bad,” he said, without looking up. “Only had to swat one person’s hands away from the goods, so that’s nice. Last job I had in this profession, the happy ending was all but assumed.” He looked up; his face was neutral, but his eyes were laughing. “Never thought it’d be easier to get taken seriously as a biker than as a massag
e therapist.”

  “It’s an interesting fallback career choice.”

  He shrugged. “Everywhere you go, people want to relax. You can get jobs in high-end parlors, little fly-by-night places in strip malls, and people don’t tend to flinch if you say you’d like to be paid in cash. Plus, I like to work with my hands.”

  His voice dropped a few notes lower and went straight to her cunt. She shivered a little, and his mouth bent up in a grin. “I’ve definitely noticed that you have a deft touch.”

  He stood slowly, crossing the floor until he was invading her personal space. Not pushing, just present. “I’m glad you’ve noticed.” His breath ghosted over her neck as he leaned down to press a light kiss just below her earlobe, in a place that made her knees weaken every time. “But are you sure your sample size is big enough to really make that statement?”

  “I mean.” Her voice cracked, and it took a second for her to clear her throat enough to speak. She would not grab him and ride him like a pony. She would not. “Having a big enough, uh, data set is important. Right? That’s what they call it?”