“Yes and no,” he replied in a non-committal voice. “It’s got more to do with the AIs pushing into their territory. They’re flooding the WKs meth markets with cheap heroin and cocaine. Doesn’t matter the shit is low-grade…the meth addicts are switchin’ up and they’re losing money. We protect Aztecas Infierno so we become a target too.”
Linx stared at his wife as she looked away and turned toward the setting sun as soon as they stepped outside.
He was slightly concerned when Trista immediately got into the backseat while he climbed in the front. Cillian took the luggage from him, pulled down a section of the backseats and loaded them next to her.
This whole situation made him feel as uneasy as his wife; the anxiety emanating from her was palpable and she breathed deeply, trying to control a panic attack that was on the verge of overwhelming her.
Linx turned toward Trista and watched as she popped a Xanax and dry swallowed it followed by popping a piece of gum in her mouth.
Cillian pulled out of the airport and didn’t bother to make small talk until they reached the highway. “It’s not a good idea to get on my da’s bad side so when you bring up the situation with Trey, keep your old lady in line.”
“I can’t control Trista.” He smiled at the thought though it would be fun to try, even if she ended up knocking him out. “Listen, it took everything in my power to get her to come back in the first place. It was never part of her plan to see this place any time soon and the fact that we are here instead of searching for Trey is pissin’ her the fuck off. If your father was smart, he’d keep that in mind when he spoke to us.”
“Why are we here?” Trista sighed deeply and although the Xanax should have helped calm her down, Linx could tell she was more hyped up than ever. “How does your father fit in the position of caring about whether my brother lives or dies? Shouldn’t we be talking to Jonesy. Trey is Sergeant-at-Arms and a member of the Bastards.”
“Not anymore.” Cillian didn’t elaborate and Linx tried to keep his mouth from flying open.
“What are you talking about? It’s unprecedented for a member to leave a club. A charter—yeah, especially if the biker has been nomad for a while—but not your fucking club. You live and die by your club. I don’t believe it for a second. And how could Jonesy allow something like that to happen?”
“He didn’t have much of a choice when my father pulled out a Trump card he’s been holding up his sleeve. It was a fair trade. We had another guy…lied about his heritage to get in. Turns out he doesn’t have a drop of Emerald Isle blood. He was recently made a member—Jonesy took the deal.”
“Then who the hell is Sergeant-at-Arms for the Demon’s Bastards if my brother has been ceremoniously dumped?”
Cillian concentrated on driving before he reached for a Marlboro and lit up. “It really is none of our concern…or yours. There are plenty of capable members of DB who can become SAAs so we didn’t ask. In the meantime, Trey has replaced our current one and he’s a genius when it comes to computers. An agreement was signed that nothing about DB would be disclosed by Trey and we mean it. There is no true relationship without trust, don’t you agree?”
Linx didn’t bother to answer as he watched the landscape fly past them. He knew enough about the MCs but not enough he could engage in a full conversation and know what they were talking about.
He was glad he brought along his bass so he could at least practice while he was away. Although he truly did worry about Trista’s state of mind despite her tough act of nonchalance. Yes, she knew the truth about her parents but they might as well be dead. She couldn’t see them and had no idea whether they were still in the country or outside of it.
The whole thought made Linx as depressed as his wife.
“So, how much has Trista told you about how the MCs work?” Cillian wondered in that slight Northern Irish accent of his.
“Not much,” Linx lied straight-faced. “She really doesn’t like to talk about her life here. It makes sense when you think about all the tragedy this place has caused for her.”
“Is Trey alive or not?” she interrupted from the back seat. “Why all the switching of clubs and the cloak and dagger if he isn’t?”
“We know as much as you do darlin’…and what we do know that you don’t is club business so I can’t tell you. If the Prez doesn’t declare it need to know when you talk to him then I strongly suggest you keep that mouth of yours shut!”
“Listen, I’m not some sweet butt or old lady you can just order around. I came here out of respect because Dizzy summoned me but we could have just as easily boarded that plane heading to Dublin.”
Cillian laughed out loud though it was cold and mirthless. “That’s highly doubtful, darlin’. You and your rock star hubby wouldn’t have lasted a week. Me da doesn’t fuck around and he knows somethin’ otherwise he wouldn’t have involved you two at all. I could fucking kill Siobhán meself for her callin’ you at all. Whatever went down was club business and you were never supposed to know. It pisses me off that bitch thinks she can just play games like this and get you all riled up when it’s us that has to clean up your mess and calm you down.”
“Is that the bitch who called me? Who is she and how did she get my number? Someone was shot that night, Cillian. It’s killin’ me—don’t you understand that? I need to know my brother’s safe and you can’t tell me a goddamn thing because you’re just speaking in riddles. Fuck!”
Linx turned toward Cillian who gave him a wry smile. “I don’t envy you with that one. Eighteen or not, she’s still a fucking pain in the arse and hellcat on top of it.”
“I wouldn’t trade her for any other woman in the world.” He looked away and observed the woodsy area that surrounded them.
They soon came upon a huge compound that was completely surrounded and hidden by the majestic forests which grew wild and free in this part of Nevada. The air had some bite to it but it was firmly autumn and the weather attested to this fact. There was a slight breeze as he helped Cillian with the bags while Trista paced back and forth like a caged animal.
The compound was completely secure with barbed wire along a perimeter fence. There was also an auto body shop off to the side along with numerous vehicles and an impound lot. The structure itself was secure with hardly any windows and if there was an area for the kids, Linx couldn’t see it from his vantage point.
“You guys don’t live here, do you?”
“The prospects do because they aren’t allowed to have their own place and who else would clean up if it wasn’t for them and the sweet butts, also known as Saint sluts to us club members. The members live off property. The compound actually straddles between Pine Bluff and Birch Tree but all the Saint members live in Birch Tree proper.” Cillian explained as he punched a code into a metal door and it buzzed open.
Linx held the door as Trista walked in and they faced the common area, which was set up very much like a saloon. There was a bar area where plenty of men with their LS cuts were drinking and smoking. Women were dotted around but most looked like old ladies, not Saint sluts. They hung out in groups and wore a lot more clothing than common biker trash. Plus they all had their nails done, their hair coiffed and most held alcoholic beverages in their hand.
There was also a strong scent of chronic in the air and if there were children on the premises, they weren’t allowed in this area because it was strictly adults who were present.
One tall guy who couldn’t have been more than twenty-three or –four approached Cillian. “Quinn, show our guests to their accommodations and once they’ve settled in, take them down to see Da. He was adamant they meet him shortly after they arrived.”
Quinn glared at Linx with gorgeous blue eyes, the same color as Cillian’s though he looked more like Jaden otherwise. All the Coxes had the same features more or less and it was easy to tell they were all siblings.
Like Linx, they shared an Irish Catholic upbringing that included plenty of siblings and he doubted he’d met the
m all.
Trista clung to Linx as they followed Quinn down a narrow hall and up a flight of stairs. The second story looked like a hotel. There were rows of doors but it was hard to tell which room belonged to whom since there wasn’t exactly numbers on the door. The place was much bigger and a lot more luxurious than it looked from the outside.
It wasn’t overdone but the place was clean and there wasn’t anything worn down or dilapidated about the building.
“We just had the interior redone before we had to go on lockdown,” Quinn said in an American accent that bore no resemblance to his older brother’s. “Pretty ironic because Dad didn’t think we would be on lockdown any time soon until that shit with Brooklyn took place in Carson City.”
Linx looked at Trista; her face was beet red and she didn’t look pleased at all. “Cillian told us this had nothing to do with the Carson City shooting.”
“Well, in a way, it doesn’t. The White Knights are pissed because the Mexican Cartel is taking away some of their precious business. They want to retaliate anyway due to Brooklyn gettin’ shot by Trey so it’s all tied in together. However, you didn’t hear it from me. It’s club business and I would like to keep all my appendages so if my dad asks, you two don’t know shit—got it?”
Quinn stopped at a random door, unlocked it and handed Linx the key as they stepped inside. The lamp next to the bed was illuminated and their luggage was already placed inside the room. It was a decent sized bedroom with an attached bathroom that contained a toilet, sink and shower stall.
“Yeah, we got it.” Trista pushed Quinn out the room rudely. “Give us fifteen minutes and we’ll be ready to speak with your old man.”
She slammed the door in Quinn’s face before she turned to face him. Linx knew she was pissed off and yet there was something else present in those blue eyes of hers that almost broke him in two.
His beautiful Trista, the woman who had stolen his heart like a thief in the night, looked worn out and defeated. She was only eighteen—though her nineteenth birthday was less than a couple months away—and she’d already lived through so much tragedy and misery, he honestly didn’t know how much more she could take.
Linx grabbed her by the waist and slid his arms around her before he pulled her into his embrace.
“Baby, I know this is so fuckin’ hard for you and seein’ you this way…it makes me want to just wrap you up and take you somewhere far, far away. This isn’t right…you lookin’ like this and feelin’ the way you do. If I could, I would take that misery away because I’m tired of you bein’ like this.”
“Me too.” She sighed and pulled away only slightly so they could look into one another’s eyes. “But don’t feel too bad for me because I’m prepared. I’m not some novice and no matter how far I run, this…shit…has always been a part of my life. I’ve been in Clusterfuck Central since my brother joined the Demon’s Bastards and all the sudden, he’s a Lucifer’s Saint and no one says shit, feels shit about it? I don’t fuckin’ buy it.”
“What are you talkin’ ‘bout, babe?”
“No one’s giving us the whole story because they think we’re stupid and we’re soft. You haven’t been around violence in years and I’m now the pampered wife of a rich rock star. They think I’ve changed.” Her blue eyes hardened into ice chips. “They’re fucking wrong. I’m still the same old Trista and all those Boston ways that lie within you better re-emerge real quick. I’m countin’ on you, Linx. Don’t let me down.”
“Wait…what’s goin’ on?” he questioned her as they separated and she strolled to her luggage before she bent down on her hunches and opened her suitcase.
“We just need to prepare, that’s all I’m sayin’. ‘Cause shit’s about to get real ugly and both of us have to be able to think on our feet when everything can change real fast. You feelin’ me?”
Linx’s heart thudded in his chest but already, he could feel the old him re-emerging. The person he was before all the rock star shit and the fame and the money. That was just window dressing for who he really was. The son of a father who was, by all means, a hard-working, Irish Catholic family man, while all that time he and his siblings were growing up, his father was a contributor to the IRA and the cause for a United Ireland.
“I’m feelin’ you, babe.”
“Good. Now let’s get dressed and see what the Prez has to say that is so goddamn important.”
He couldn’t stop himself from laughing out loud, if only to break the tension. “You are one crazy bitch, you know that?”
She cocked her head to the side and smiled. “Yeah, but that’s why you love me so much and one of the main reasons why you married me. I may be a little crazy, my ass is a little dumb, especially when it comes to a big cock, but I ain’t no fuckin’ dumb ass.”
They stared at one another before Linx walked over and opened his own suitcase. They definitely needed a change of clothes and some answers but the former came first.
Linx grabbed Trista’s arm and brought her closer to him. “Hey, you wanna hit the shower? I’m feeling a bit grungy.”
“I thought you would never ask,” Trista responded with a smile on her face.
He knew whatever they had planned would take more than a mere fifteen minutes.
Chapter Five
I ABSOLUTELY ADORED making love to Linx and although all this turmoil was going on in my life and a huge heaping bag’s worth of colossal shit was hanging over my head, we still could fuck one another like we were the last two people on earth.
Sure, we were in love but there was nothing like a hard-core pounding to put me in the mood for my wild, aggressive side to emerge with a vengeance.
His cock pounded my pussy like I was a delicious morsel designed to be swallowed whole and his lips devoured mine in a lip-lock so sore and bruising, we felt like the same organism with four arms, four legs, and two distinct heartbeats joined together as one.
He easily hoisted me up and my legs locked around his waist when he wasn’t holding them open and holding me in a way that could keep me upright and allow him to watch all the action between us.
Linx tilted my head back and devoured my neck as the hot water began to turn lukewarm and all I felt was his beautifully marked chest against my sensitive breasts.
I hadn’t gotten anymore tat work done yet but he’d insisted I pierce my nipples so the pain and pleasure of our lovemaking could be that much more intense. My clit was also pierced and next up, was his tongue, and a pierced right nipple.
As it was, every time he buried himself inside me, I felt the tease of his dick against my piercing and the nub between my Brazilian waxed lips purred with pleasure. He had my motor revved and I was ready to go and dive in for seconds.
I clenched my vaginal muscles around his gorgeous cock and when he began to make me come only moments before his own orgasm seized him by the look in his eyes, we tumbled over that sexual apex together and the fall was absolutely magnificent.
Linx set me down on shaky legs before he grabbed the soap and began to clean between my legs as his semen ran down my thighs.
We finished our shower together in an efficient manner after our post-coital quickie and hurried out of the stall. I dried off, applied moisturizer to my skin and slipped my damp hair into a high ponytail while Linx began to dress immediately after drying off. He opted for a pair of faded blue jeans with tears in the knee and a black wife-beater while I pulled off club chic expertly in a pair of black jeggings and matching tank with a built in shelf-bra and all-mesh back. My tat could be seen clearly through the flimsy material but that was the point.
A hard knock jolted me out of my contemplation. Linx walked over and answered the door. A crimson-colored, humiliated-looking Quinn faced us.
“What’s wrong? You look like you’ve been through some tough shit.” I studied my face before I slapped on some cover up, added concealer to hide the dark smudges under my eyes before I finished off my look with a bit of red-tinted lip gloss.
“I
have. Dad is fuckin’ pissed you two are taking so long.”
I wanted to say something quick and smart-assed but I kept my mouth shut as Linx grabbed my hand and we followed Quinn down to the first floor of the compound.
Although I wouldn’t call it a full out party, most of the members were there and with their old ladies. The single guys in the club were surrounded by a few choice Saint sluts. Neither alcohol nor was marijuana or cigarettes in short supply. I even spotted a little blow making its way around the room. Since when did coke become popular again? What was it? Some kind of bizarre eighties flashback I was having? Ironically, I wasn’t even born in the eighties so I only had old movies and books to judge that time frame.
Quinn pushed a skanky looking brunette away from him as she approached him. “Not fucking now, Laura.”
Her amber eyes darted our way before her eyes flashed with recognition. “Well dip me in shit and call it chocolate,” she said in an Irish accent so thick, it was hard to decipher what she’d just said for someone not used to the harsh brogue. “You’re fuckin’ Linx Carter from Winter’s Regret. Can I get an autograph later?”
In Too Deep (The Lovers Duet) Page 3
