Take the Honey and Run: Sweet & Dirty BBW MC Romance, Book #6 (Sweet&Dirty BBW MC Romance)

by Cathryn Cade

  The traffic of the interstate rumbled in the distance, and occasional vehicles passed on the nearby streets.

  The faint thump of a bass echoed from a bar in the next block.

  A few feet behind her, along the wall of the old warehouse, a door creaked slowly, swinging in the cold breeze that swirled along the alley. The same ominous sound beloved of scary movies. It was working on her last nerve.

  Back when this warehouse was a busy place, with deliveries going in and out, someone had built a flimsy shelter around two sides of the walk-in door behind her.

  Now, part of this shelter had been torn away, so she could see through it to the alley beyond.

  And she could see the darkness that yawned inside the old warehouse. No safety to be found in there, only regret for a safer path not taken.

  She felt more alone than she had since that dark, cold storage room where Jere had tossed her, bound and beaten.

  He'd done that on Rezan's orders. Now, here she was waiting to meet with Rezan again. Even though, if she had her way, she would never in her life have occasion to see him, or indeed even think of him unless it was to wonder how he was enjoying prison life.

  And tonight, although she never wanted to see Tim again, she found herself hoping he would be at this meet. She despised Tim, but he was much, much less scary than Rezan. Tim was weak, a loser, but he was not a psychopath who could smile warmly while he intentionally hurt someone.

  She'd been leaning against the outside wall of the warehouse, behind which the alley ran, and behind which the meet was supposed to take place.

  But now, unable to stay still, she straightened and paced a few steps toward the mouth of the alley, then back again.

  Her hands were shoved in the pockets of a polar fleece jacket, borrowed from a lost-and-found collection in one corner of the women's restroom at the Flyers' club house. The fleece was hot pink, but since the alley was dark, aside from the faint light emanating from a street light at the far end, the color didn't matter. At least it wasn't glow-in-the-dark.

  That was good, because not only was she afraid of the man she was supposed to meet here, she was a woman at night, in a not-so-safe area of Spokane.

  She blew out a shaky breath and turned to huddle back against her wall.

  Except that this time, two figures were silhouetted against the light at the far end of the alley. One was slim, with blond hair pale in the streetlight. The other was burly, with a bald head.

  Tim was here. But he was with Jere.

  Manda shuddered, fear tightening its icy grip. If she needed any more proof that Tim was all in with Rezan, that the boyfriend she knew was gone, this was it.

  She backed up, forgetting all her plans, ready to run.

  "Hey, baby," Rezan said behind her.

  Manda whirled, and backed into the tattered doorway shelter, holding out a hand. "Stay away from me," she gritted.

  She could see him clearly, for he had a smart phone in hand, the screen brightly lit. Holding it under his chin as he was, he looked the boogie-man, with shadows thrown upward over his face—no doubt on purpose.

  The bright glow lit the side of the old warehouse as well, and her corner of the wrecked shelter.

  Rezan laughed, a sunny, carefree sound. "Aw, now is that any way to treat a friend? The man who spent money on you, bought you clothes and food? Found you a sugar daddy of your very own?"

  "A sugar daddy?" she repeated. "What the hell are you talking about? You tried to whore me!"

  "Yeah, to a member of a successful biker club," he said, flinging out an arm for emphasis. "Who coulda set you up in style, like his brothers have with their pussy. All you had to do, if you was smart enough, was hang on to him," he said. "But I guess Tim's right—you're too damn stupid to do even that."

  A spark of anger lit, melting back her fear just a little.

  He was reducing her time with T to a transaction—sex for being kept. And all the other Flyer old ladies relationships with their men, too.

  Which was why she was here. She had a job to do. Doing her part to keep them and all the other women in this city safe, or at least safe from this scum-bucket.

  Which meant she had to keep him talking.

  "How do you know I'm not still with him?" she asked. "Maybe he likes me just fine."

  Rezan laughed again. "Bitch, don't ever try to kid a kidder. I had eyes on you the whole time you was in that club house. Eyes and ears. I coulda got to you anytime I wanted, and don't you forget it."

  Manda wanted to be sick. Someone else in the Flyers' club house was spying for him? Who else had he terrorized into doing his bidding?

  He wouldn't tell her that, but he might drop other valuable information.

  "Well, I'm here now," she said. "D'you want to hear what I have, or not?"

  Footsteps crunched nearby, and Tim peered around the side of the shelter, teeth bared. "Hello, little girl."

  Even though he was an idiot, and the least scary person present, Manda's nerves still jumped. "Cut it out, Tim. You don't scare anyone."

  Jere hulked into view at Rezan's shoulder. "Bet I can scare you," he said, and snickered.

  Oh, yeah, he definitely could, but damned if she'd let him see it.

  Manda set a hand on her hip and did her best to look bored. "Are you guys gonna listen to me, or what? You better, 'cause you're not the only ones who have eyes and ears in certain places."

  Rezan stiffened, his smile disappearing, and menace rolling off him in a suffocating wave. "What's that mean? Talk, bitch, and talk fast."

  "Fine," she said. "Here's what I learned. I—I heard the Flyers' president, Sticky or whoever, talking to two of the other guys. I don't know who, 'cause I couldn't see them from where I was hiding. The Flyers have another meet with the Black Wolves in two weeks, but not at their club. The meet's here in Spokane. The Wolves are bringing whatever they're selling—and I hope you know what, 'cause I don't. None of them named it."

  "Where's the meet?" Rezan demanded. He was leaning in, his excitement palpable.

  Oh yeah. Now she had him.

  Manda shrugged. "Some bar... it's a pool hall or something." She backed up a couple of steps, putting up a hand against the light. "D'you have to shine that thing right in my eyes?"

  Rezan angled the phone away, but he moved in, and Jere crowded after him. Tim faded into the blackness behind them—like the coward he was.

  "What's the name of the fuckin' bar?" Rezan demanded. "And do not make me wait, or I'll let Jere help you remember it."

  Cold sweat broke out, wetting Manda's armpits, and her palms, even though her hands were freezing.

  She skittered backward, shaking her head. "No, no. I—I remember. It's Paddy's. Paddy's Pool Place."

  "Paddy's Pool Hall," Jere corrected with a sneer. The same tone he'd used when he was tying her up, and threatening to rape her.

  Her breath froze in her chest, and her head buzzed like a broken neon sign, flashing Run! Run! Run!

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  * * *

  "Shut up, Jere," Rezan ordered. "What time are they meeting?"

  Manda panted, squeezing her hands in tight fists, her short nails digging into her palms. It was hard now to even remember why she was here. She just wanted this over, she wanted to be done so she could hide.

  No. She couldn't run, not yet. T-Bear—she had to help T, even though he was through with her, even though he wouldn't look at her anymore, not even earlier at the Flyers' clubhouse , when Stick Vanko had called him in to confront her. She still wanted to keep him safe, even if that made her a lovesick fool.

  "Um, they’re meeting late, like when the bar is about to close. In the back parking lot," she said hurriedly, the words tumbling over themselves.

  Rezan relaxed and smiled. Then he reached to flick her under the chin with his finger, making her jerk as if he'd prodded her with an electrical charge.

  "There, see now? That wasn't so hard, was it? You help me, I help you, that's how this works. No
w, tell me that other little tidbit you hinted at."

  "Huh?" What was he talking about? She'd done her job here. Now she needed to get away, she needed to hide. Somewhere Rezan and Jere couldn't find her.

  "Focus, you stupid bitch," Rezan spat. "What else you got for me?"

  There was something... a whisper of sound behind her, inside the warehouse, as if a large force was coiling, waiting.

  This sent goosebumps skittering over her skin, and yet steadied her, just enough.

  "Oh, right. Uh, one of the Flyers asked if they could trust the Wolves. And another one laughed, and said it didn't matter, 'cause they were gonna take care of that problem."

  "What?" Rezan moved in again, and this time grabbed her arm in a painful grip. "What else did they say? Did they name any names?"

  "Ow," she cried out, wilting as he twisted her arm. "Stop—that hurts!"

  "Cut it out, man," Tim said from nearby. "You hurt her, she'll fold. She don't do pain."

  "Fuck off," Rezan said, but his grip eased. "Talk, bitch."

  "It—he had a weird name," Manda said. "One I never heard before."

  "Fuck this. Was it Chaske?"

  Manda nodded, hard, so her hair flipped. "Yeah, that was it. Chaske. Chaske Fire-something. Now can you let go of my arm? You're hurting me."

  "Stupid bitch." He slapped her arm away carelessly. "It's Firewalker, dummy. He's Native American."

  "What'd she mean, the Flyers are gonna take care of him? Huh, Rezan?" Jere demanded, shifting to peer into Rezan's face.

  "Yeah," Tim added, agitated, nearly dancing on his toes in the background. "Shit, if the Flyers are onto Chaske, they'll make him talk. That means they'll find out about our deal. They could mess the whole thing up."

  "Shut up!" Rezan snarled. "Don't you think I already thought of that, you fuckwit? Just shut up, and let me think."

  Uh-oh. Now he was angry. That was bad, that was really bad.

  Manda sidled a step closer to the crack in the old warehouse door. She'd rather brave what lay inside than deal with a ramped-up Rezan again.

  And it was time, because she'd done as she agreed, and now she needed to disappear.

  She reached behind her and found the edge of the door. It creaked loudly, and she froze.

  "Hey!" Jere called, stabbing a finger at her in the light of Rezan's phone. "Where you think you're goin', bitch? Rezan promised me a turn with you tonight."

  "No!" Manda pushed back against the door with all her might. "Oh, no."

  "Hey! She's gettin' away!" Jere bellowed.

  "Jesus, do I have to do all the thinking for you two?" Rezan demanded. "She can't get away if you get hold of her. So do it!"

  Jere lunged for her and grabbed a handful of fleece sleeve.

  At that moment, the door behind her gave way with a loud groan, as if the rust-stiffened hinges had given out.

  She catapulted backward into the darkness, Jere stumbling with her. His familiar stench filled her nostrils—stale sweat and tanning product.

  Her mind and body revolted, her hands clawing, heart pounding. No! She would not allow him to hurt her again, she wouldn't.

  She swiped at him with her free hand. Her nails dug into flesh, and scraped. Jere yowled. "Ow! Fuckin' cunt, you scratched me. You're gonna pay for that now."

  Manda came up against something hard and long and tall, was grabbed from behind in an iron grip, just as Rezan and Tim burst through the door after her and Jere.

  "No!" she yelped. "No, no, no!" She fought his grip, mindless panic giving her strength.

  "Fuckin' A, woman," her captor hissed. "Stop. It's me, Rocker."

  "What?" Jere demanded, yanking at Manda. "What the fuck? Rezan—it's a—!"

  His last word was lost forever as Manda snapped. She sucked in a sobbing breath and let loose, all the pent-up terror of the last hours, as well as Rezan and Jere's first attack, tearing from her throat in an ear-piercing shriek.

  Struggling against the iron hands that held her, she kicked out savagely at Jere, striking him over and over with her feet, anywhere she could reach, as she continued to scream.

  "Fuck!" another deep voice complained. "Turn the volume down."

  A hard hand clamped over Manda's face.

  "Stop," Rocker hissed in Manda's ear. Her mouth and nose covered, she could not breathe, so she sagged in his arms, spent.

  Instantly he removed his hand so she could breathe, and she staggered back toward Jere as he tugged on her sleeve.

  "What the fuck?" Rezan demanded in the sudden silence.

  With shocking swiftness, three spotlights flashed on, revealing this part of the interior of the warehouse in stark color.

  And in the light, the big men in Flyer cuts gathered in a loose circle around the warehouse door.

  Rezan stood frozen in the lights, gaze darting from Flyer to Flyer. Just behind him, Tim's face was a rictus of horror.

  Jere stood, still hanging onto Manda's fleecy sleeve, his face blank, mouth open as if he could not comprehend just how completely the situation had turned.

  Manda had eyes only for the big, ginger biker looming in the lights, feet spread, arms at his sides, head down and gaze locked on Jere.

  "Let. Her. Go." T-Bear rumbled, his voice like the boom of thunder after a lightning strike. "Think you're a big, tough man 'cause you can tie women up and push 'em around? Threaten to rape and abuse them? Lessee how you do against a real man, you slimy, little piece of shit."

  Jere let her go and backed away, toward Rezan as if for protection. "No, no, man," he babbled. "I didn't mean nothin'. It's cool, it's cool."

  T advanced on him, hands curling into massive fists. "Cool?" he snorted. "It'll be cool after I pound you into a pile of stew-meat and feed you to the dogs."

  "We got dogs?" Cooler asked, sounding interested.

  "I'll find some," T assured him.

  Jere darted toward the door, but another tall Flyer was there, blocking his way—Pete Vanko. He shoved the bodybuilder back toward T.

  "No, no," the baby-faced Jere whined. "Rezan, tell 'em. I was just doin' what you told me—just followin' orders."

  T reached out a long arm and grabbed him, lifting the smaller man right off the ground. "Oh, yeah? Was you followin' orders when you shoved her headfirst into a wall? And when you told her how you was comin' back later to rape her, maybe break her legs? Well guess what, I ain't followin' no one's orders, shithead. I'm doin' this 'cause I want to. And don't think your boss is gonna get off easy, either, 'cause he ain't."

  He drew back his other hand and cuffed Jere across the face. Manda flinched at the meaty smack of flesh on flesh. Jere's head jerked to one side, then the other as T hit him again. Then he casually dropped the smaller man, drew back his booted foot and kicked him, right in the groin. Jere convulsed into a ball, uttering a sound of agony.

  "Huh," T said, towering over him. "Guess you won't be doing any raping any time soon."

  "Or ever," one of the Flyers said. "Fuck, man, think you kicked his gonads up so far he'll choke on 'em."

  "That'd be good," someone else said. "Save us the trouble."

  "T?" Manda called softly. "Thank you. That was—I wish I could've done that."

  “Just stay out of the way,” T answered, without looking around. As if he didn't even want to look her.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  * * *

  T-Bear hadn't forgiven Manda, he'd made that clear.

  When Stick had called him into their meeting room earlier that evening and told him they'd found her listening outside the door, T-Bear had given her such a look of betrayal that Manda had nearly thrown herself at his feet and begged him to listen to her side of the story.

  Only pride had kept her on her feet—that and concern for Chloe. She needed the Flyers' help, and if she had to face their scary leader and T and all of his friends who now despised her, fine.

  The new, tough Manda could do it.

  Thus, she'd buried her own hurt, and her feelings for the big ging
er eying her like an enemy, and repeated her offer, gazing at the floor instead of him.

  If the Flyers would send someone to watch over Chloe and protect her, she'd help them catch the men plotting against them.

  They had accepted.

  A plan was forged, she made a call to Tim to set up another meet, and now here they were, and it was almost over—she hoped.

  "Hey," Pete called. "Where you think you're going, Faro?"

  Manda looked around Rocker just as Rezan hit the ground rolling, and disappeared into the darkness beyond the lights. Tim bolted after him.

  "Get him!" Stick ordered. "Turn the light—east, east!"

  One of the lights swerved, dancing over the eastern end of the warehouse, and the shapes of old packing crates and rubbish.

  Rocker wasted no time taking off after Rezan. Manda quickly turned her focus to where T-Bear had disappeared into the darkness.

  "Faro's back here!" T-Bear bellowed from beyond the packing crates. A gunshot cracked, incredibly loud in the echoing space.

  Manda cried out, and clapped her hands over her mouth, searching for T in the shadows. Oh, God, had he been shot?

  Her heart was pounding, adrenaline surging through her so hard she felt as if she could leap through the warehouse after him with a single bound. But he'd told her to stay out of the way, so she would. She didn't want to be responsible for his getting hurt, or losing Rezan.

  "Take that, you little fucker," T bellowed. A packing crate rose into the air and toppled with a crash that echoed through the warehouse.

  "There he is!" Rocker yelled. "Get him!"

  "I'm on him!" T answered. Their footsteps thudded into the distance. "Got him! Fuck, no I don't. He went that way."

  "You're not getting out of here, Faro," Stick Vanko called, his deep cold voice echoing through the warehouse. "Give up now, and it'll go easier on you."

  Manda gasped as a man scuttled from the shadows, headed for the door. But it wasn't Rezan—it was Tim. He looked terrified, and he was waving a pistol.

  Stick Vanko stepped out to face him. "Put the gun down, Garner. No need to die here, which is what'll happen if you fire that thing."