Naomi’s brown eyes darted from Ronan to Linx and back again. “You gonna tell him or should I?”
“He’s a stranger, Naye, why should we tell him shit?”
“He’s family.”
“Yeah…a second cousin is hardly family in my eyes.” Ronan glared at Linx with those unnerving violet-blue eyes while he touched the soft brown skin exposed between his girlfriend’s black and gray camouflage tank top and a pair of black jeans she wore like they were tailor made for her body.
“Well?” Linx swigged from his beer again, the deliciously cold liquid flowing down his throat.
“Fuck it. She’s our fuckin’ half-sister. Dizzy’s daughter by some club skank who was kicked out a long time ago. She never left because her mother was a junkie whore so she kinda became a fixture but no one acknowledged her as our sister. Not until the WKs got hold of her and raped her pussy, ass and mouth so bad, she had to be put in the hospital. It was Kaz’s first kill.”
Ronan stepped to Linx until they were mere inches apart. “You repeat any of what I just told you, especially to that mouthy little old lady of yours and I will fuck you up all over this fuckin’ compound. Lock down or no lock down. It’s club business and she does favors for our dad but she isn’t family. Trey…Kaz…Loire…they all belong to Dad when he couldn’t keep it in his pants and the only one he really cares about, loves more than he does even us is Trey. That fuckin’ asshole joined a rival club and he paid Jonesy five million and told him he was his son.
“Jonesy damn near shit himself. He thought maybe Trey was giving Dizzy info on the club but Trey would have never done that because he’s fuckin’ loyal to a fault and he’s not some shithead snitch rat motherfucker. He didn’t tell us shit and Jonesy handed him over only after Pops swore on Jesus, Mary and Joseph Trey had never betrayed the Demon’s Bastards.”
“What are you trying to tell me?” Linx finished his beer and set the bottle down on the ground.
“Nothing…loyalty pays…s’all I’m sayin’.”
Naomi rolled her eyes. “Come on, Linx. Ronan says you can shoot.”
“Yep. Am I going up against you?”
“Something wrong with me? I was in the military and I’m a pretty good shot…”
“What branch?”
“Air Force. I was stationed at Nellis when I met this shithead over there. Yeah, we actually met in Vegas. I was off duty and I remembered him from high school. We got to chattin’ and promised to stay in touch. ‘Course we didn’t. My plane was shot down in Afghanistan and I fucked up my hip. I’m okay now except for a bit of pain but I wasn’t any good to the military after that. They wanted me to stay on as intelligence and I basically told them to go fuck themselves. I took my honorable discharge and came back up here to Birch Tree.”
Ronan grabbed her from behind and pushed his hard-on into her back. Linx looked away and wished Trista was out here but she refused to leave the clubhouse.
“What are you doing tellin’ this fuckin’ jerk our life story? What difference does it make how we got together?”
“I just didn’t think you were the type,” Linx murmured in a purposely double-entendre manner.
“The type? What do you mean by that?” His face turned crimson that flushed all the way down to his neck. “You mean to date a black woman? Or a woman with bigger balls than you? Spit it out you stringy, rock star motherfucker.”
“Definitely the latter, not the former.” Linx grabbed the beer Naomi handed to him as a peace offering. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Listen, it’s obvious the two of us aren’t ever gonna get along. Yeah, I know we should feel so honored to have yet another rock star member but just remember, Kaelan and Kaz were members before they were rock stars. Pops only took you on because you’re family and you’re Irish. The last tussle we had with the WKs cost us a couple members and we need to replenish the ranks. We all know about your history and if your father didn’t run the charter in South Boston then you wouldn’t even be here.”
“What the fuck did you say?”
Linx looked toward the feminine voice and Naomi glared at Ronan before she shook her head and straightened her back.
“Oh, your lover boy didn’t tell you? His father runs the South Boston charter of the Lucifer’s Saints. He broke away because his father is just a suit. He controls the LS…he isn’t the Prez, just a businessman and their direct contact to the Northern Irish. What did you think I was talking about? Does Linx look like the son of an MC Prez?”
“Ronan, stop.” Naomi kissed the side of his mouth. “Go on and see if your dad needs anything. I’ll take these two to the shooting range.”
“If that little mouthy bitch isn’t as good as you then she stays here and she’s not comin’ to Belfast with us. It’ll be hard enough to rescue Trey without me havin’ to worry about his snatch of a sister. He’d murder us if anything happened to Trista and Linx, you know I’m not wrong.”
Linx nodded reluctantly. Ronan was a grade-A asshole but he spoke the truth. If Trista couldn’t pull her weight then she would be better off at the clubhouse and not in Belfast.
“Come on, you two love birds. I gotta show you the weapons depot and then I need to take you out shootin’.” She glanced at Trista and pursed her lips as Trista glared back at her with hard blue eyes. “You heard Ronan. He and Quinn are going with Lennon to Belfast. They can’t look after you too. If you can’t shoot then you’ll have to stay here. Got it?”
“I’m not fuckin’ deaf.” Trista crossed her arms against her breasts in a defensive position.
“Cool then I expect to see no crocodile tears when I out shoot your ass and get you to stay here in Birch Tree. There’s nothing for you to do in Belfast anyway. It’s just time you and your hubby will be away from one another. It’s the club life.”
“This isn’t my club,” she bit out with venom in each word.
Naomi arched one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows. “Oh, really? Bitch, it is now, or have you not been keepin’ up with current events? Your hubby is patched in and so is your fuckin’ brother. If this isn’t your club now then when do you plan to make it your own? We take care of our own and you’re gonna have to put a lid on that temper. Bronaugh will knock you the fuck out herself if she heard you talkin’ like that.”
“Fuck her too.”
Ronan’s girlfriend rolled her eyes and glanced heavenward. “Are you always this hard to deal with? Fuck it—don’t answer that question. I’m about to knock you out myself. The weapons depot. Now.”
Linx wrapped his arm around Trista’s waist as they followed Naomi at several paces behind.
“Anything else you’ve been hiding besides your ‘perfectly respectable family’ being major contributors to the IRA and a notorious motorcycle club?”
“No. That’s my dad’s business, not mine. If I thought it was relevant, I would have told you but I don’t make my money that way and he didn’t finance the band or take care of me during the years we struggled as a band or after I made it. Everything I have, I earned on my own, Trista.”
She stared at him like he was a stranger before her cool glare softened and her lips parted. “I’m sorry…I shouldn’t judge you. It’s not like my life has been all peaches and cream either. My father…you know he worked for this useless motherfucker, right? He can’t ever know my parents and Tristan are in Witsec…do you hear me? Promise me, no matter what goes down…what we know about my family stays between us?”
Linx stared at her as they walked before he looked ahead again. Her face, determined, her blue eyes icy in the bright autumn sun. He could drink her in all day and watch her from afar yet never get tired of her. She was his goddess, the love of his life, and he would never tell anyone anything about the shit they both knew. It was too dangerous and they could both end up dead, not at the hands of Dizzy but by the one son of a bitch still undercover. Clooney, aka Marcus Hinton, undercover U.S. Marshall and still a member of the Demon’s Bastards.
“It goes without sayin’,” he remarked before he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and kissed the side of her forehead.
“THIS IS BULLSHIT!” Trista screamed.
She looked like a wild yet untamed filly with sweat-soaked hair, crazed blue eyes and a crimson colored complexion. She was beyond pissed and Linx didn’t have a clue how to calm her down, especially since she was speaking to his Prez and there wasn’t much he could say without getting a personal beat down of his own from his fellow members.
“Listen to me, young lass, because I will only take insubordination for so long before I rip you a new asshole.” Dizzy stood and glared down at the young woman and Linx visibly flinched.
He’d always hated the feeling of being helpless and right now, there was fuck all he could do about the present situation.
They’d accompanied Naomi to the gun range and although Trista could hold her own with small caliber weapons, she was useless when it came to the big guns. Uzis, Steyr AUGs and AK-47s were not easily controlled and she fucked up royally, even after instruction by Naomi. She wouldn’t be allowed to make the trip to Belfast.
“You will stay here where you are safe. This is a dangerous operation.” Dizzy walked over and poured himself a healthy glass of Macallan before he sat down at the head the table in the chapel again. “Ronan, Quinn and Lennon will be in Belfast to do a messy job. In and out…Trey is alive and we have to get him out of Northern Ireland as soon as possible. You don’t need to be there if all you’re gonna be is dead weight, lass. Sorry to be the one to break it to you.”
“But he’s my brother and I want to see him. I want to be there when he’s rescued.” The tears streamed down her face and although her shoulders slumped in defeat, there was a certain defiance about her posture he knew she wasn’t ready to give up just yet, not even if there was a slither of a chance she could go and help save her brother.
“The answer is still no and it won’t change. You have got to stay here where we can keep you safe. The boys leave tomorrow morning so it’s best if you just get drunk with the rest of those eejits out there and fuck your man until he can’t get his pecker up again because it’s the last bit of Irish injection you’re gonna be havin’ in youse for a while.”
Linx grabbed Trista by the shoulders and escorted her out of Dizzy’s office while she sobbed on his shoulder.
“Baby, you know I’m gonna bring Trey home for you so please don’t cry. That will get us nowhere and we both know I’m on borrowed time as it is. I have two weeks to get this done and almost one week has passed already.”
Trista’s shoulders heaved before they collapsed and she wiped the tears away in complete and utter gut-wrenching frustration with hands that clawed at her gorgeous face. “It still doesn’t make a fuck all bit of difference. Dizzy tricked me—he fuckin’ played us, Linx. He had no intention of allowin’ me to go to Ireland with you guys. He never wanted me involved in the first place because he’s a sexist fuckin’ prick.”
Linx kissed the side of Trista’s forehead and held her close, inhaling a mixture of vanilla and freesia. “Yeah, he’s that too, but I can’t say I’m sorry you’re not goin’. I would be worried about you the whole time and if I’m too busy thinkin’ about you, I can’t do my job properly. There’s nothing wrong with you stayin’ here at the clubhouse until I get back. You’re safer here than any other place, you feel me?”
“Yeah, I’m feelin’ you all right but first I need some chronic and a couple glasses of Macallan. Someone has got to be holdin’ some grade-A shit around here and I’m not givin’ up till I find it.”
“Follow me.” Linx grabbed her hand and led her to a game room where a fifty-inch television was mounted to the wall and several of the brothers from the club played Mine Craft while other young couples necked, smoked and drank while chatting animatedly with one another.
“Trista, Linx—over here!” Naomi shouted as Ronan rolled his eyes. Quinn sat next to a gorgeous brunette with creamy skin, wide steel blue eyes and small Irish features. They all passed around joints and while the two women held bottles of Bud Ice, the guys were taking shots from a bottle of Jack Daniels.
Cillian and Gisela entered and took a seat cater-corner to them next to a couple that were all over each other to the point where it might have been a good idea for them to get a room.
“Hey, you two—cut that shit out. Some of us wanna keep our liquor down.” Cillian slapped the girl on her arm and she finally separated from the man she was pawing.
Linx poured himself a shot of Jack Daniels and took a shot while Naomi lit up a joint for Trista. He looked up and recognized the young woman as Maeve “Misty” Cox, the only girl in a family full of boys and the guy she was with as someone who shouldn’t have been there.
“What. The. Fuck.” Trista grabbed Linx’s wrist as her face turned a fierce crimson and her blue eyes slowly grew colder than an Eskimo’s dick. “That motherfucker.”
Linx knew it was too late. It was on and he could only hope he could keep her calm enough not to blow his cover because one way or another, the man in question was going to get an earful.
Naomi looked from Trista to Linx and back again, her brown eyes wide with concern. “What’s the matter?”
“What the fuck is a Demon’s Bastard doing in a Lucifer Saints clubhouse during lockdown?”
All the sudden, every pair of eyes in their vicinity were on the two of them and Linx could only hope the blowback his wife was about to cause wouldn’t be enough to do major damage the night before he had to leave for Northern Ireland.
Chapter Nine
I WAS ABOUT to blow and I could barely keep my temper in check.
Seated no more than fifteen feet with his arm wrapped around Misty’s slim waist was Clooney, aka Marcus Hinton, the U.S. Marshall who’d managed to infiltrate the Demon’s Bastards MC.
Cillian glared at me with hard blue eyes. “Misty and Clooney have been dating for six months. It’s not the best situation as far as I’m concerned but it keeps the peace between the Bastards and the Saints. What the hell do you care, anyway? You weren’t even part of the equation until your man was voted in and started wearin’ the cut.”
Clooney did a double-take before his cold gray eyes looked back at Misty and smiled at her before he kissed her and whispered something in her ear. She laughed out loud as they both stood and began to stumble out of the game room.
“Yeah, fuck off and don’t bother to tell your new girlfriend you used to fuck me!” I screamed, my hands balled into small fists though I refused to cry because the motherfucker wasn’t worth one of my fucking tears.
“She knows you were a lousy fuckin’ screw.” Clooney smirked before he grabbed her ass and guided her out of the room.
I stormed out of the game room but I headed the opposite direction and took a side door outside. I continued to smoke my joint out back next to a pathway that led to a playground for the children on site.
The door opened and I turned to look at Naomi. What the hell was she doing out here?
“Listen, I know you’re upset and really tempted to tell the club but…you can’t.”
I finished my joint and put it out with my shit-kicker pair of black Doc Martens. The truth dawned on me and I shook my head. “You’re a fucking Fed, aren’t you?”
Naomi didn’t answer my question but she looked away in embarrassment.
“Do you love him or are you just pumping info out of him? You’re gonna break his heart. He’s in love with you.” I crossed my arms across my breasts. “I thought all this shit was in my motherfuckin’ rear view mirror. I have no love for the Feds; they took my whole family away from me and now I find out the only chick in the club that’s pretty cool is one. This is so fucked up.”
“Listen, it took me months to get in so don’t fuck with my cover, you got me? Besides, I’m DEA, not a U.S. Marshall. There is way too much activity going on for this to be a short term operation.” She spoke so softly, I had to strain to hear her. “All you nee
d to know is this is a long term operation, like Donnie Brasco? Yes, I love Ronan and I won’t stop until I have something against the government too. None of his family will be prosecuted if I can help it. We don’t want the LS MC anyway…we’re after the Aztecas Infierno Cartel. Whatever the U.S. Marshalls are doing, that’s above my pay grade and we don’t talk. This isn’t a joint operation. I just know that Hinton is a Fed and of course I’m gonna protect one of my own.”
“That piece of shit needs to be turned into a eunuch. Do you know his real age or the fact that I was givin’ him blow jobs at sixteen and fuckin’ him at seventeen? The man is thirty years old for Christ’s sake. Yeah, I know Misty has more than a few years on me but that isn’t the point. If they find out, they will murder that piece of shit, and after what he put me through, I would gladly tell Cillian and pull the motherfuckin’ trigger myself.”
We both heard footsteps coming down the hall towards the door and Naomi quickly pulled out a vial of coke. “Here, snort some.”
In Too Deep (The Lovers Duet) Page 6
