by Lilly Atlas
“I’ll be there.” Snake could practically see the evil grin curling Esteban’s mouth. Hell, maybe Casper would get off easier this way than if he was to meet Esteban alone. It didn’t matter. What mattered was looking in the man’s eyes when he realized he’d lost everything.
Everything he’d stolen.
The desert wasn’t quite what Amanda had expected. In her mind, they’d be driving through stark white sand as far as the eye could see. In reality, brown dominated her visual field and there was much more vegetation than expected. Of course, that vegetation came in the form of stubby little trees and brown bushes, but still, the desert was littered with them. So much for her Hollywood vision of the desert.
Most of the multi-hour drive was spent in silence, with Nick no doubt planning and backing up his plan in his mind. She was dying to question him about it, but had already won a victory that day and didn’t want to press her luck. He’d been adamant about dropping her off at a hotel in Vegas, far enough from both Idaho and Arizona to ease his mind about her safety.
She’d refused. Two could play the stubborn game. And after an hour-long argument, Nick conceded. No way was she going to sit on her behind in a random city while Nick drove hundreds of miles away toward the very real danger. Winning that battle was why she didn’t push it and grill him on exactly what he was planning for his former club. He’d already given her some spiel about plausible deniability in the event that he was arrested.
To be honest, she hadn’t even considered the idea that whatever he’d plotted out would end with apprehension by the police. Now, on top of stressing about him being in the presence of crazy bikers who wanted to kill him, she had to worry about the police as well. Should be a fun and relaxing day.
The silent ride left her with plenty of time to do her own thinking, and she now felt weary and just shy of a nervous breakdown.
With a sigh, Amanda focused on the monochromatic scenery rushing past and tried to still her running thoughts. Would Nick be injured? Would he be killed? Would he kill someone? And the one that had her insides twisting just as much as her fear of him being killed: Would he decide to stay? Would he remember how much he’d loved his life and take back his club? It would be the end of them. And no matter how much she tried to prepare herself for the possibility of that outcome, she’d be destroyed if it happened.
Nick squeezed her leg. Though he’d been uncommunicative, he’d pulled her to the center of the pickup truck’s bench seat and kept her anchored against him with a hand on her thigh for the majority of the ride. The physical closeness kept the silence from feeling like distance.
“Okay, babe, spit it out.”
“Huh?” She studied him as he focused on the road.
“You’ve sighed three times in the last five minutes. You got something to say, say it.” He spared her a quick glance before returning his attention to the road.
She pursed her lips and ran her fingers up and down his arm. “There’s something I’d like you to do. Something I think you need to do. But you’re not going to like it.”
“I’m a big boy. Just tell me. Whatever it is,” he said as he slid his hand up her bare thigh, bunching the leg of her shorts around the top of her leg. His fingers were inches from her groin and while he didn’t appear to be taking it too far, the subtle stroking of his fingers against the ultra-sensitive skin of her inner thigh had her insides trembling.
“Um, okay.” Thinking and forming coherent sentences proved difficult when all she wanted was those fingers to continue their way north. “I think you need to, uh, speak to the woman.”
“Woman? Which woman?” he asked as he flicked his turn signal on and eased around a car traveling ten miles per hour under the speed limit.
“The one you, uh…” She stared down at her hand on his arm and inhaled. “The woman you told me you blackmailed and kidnapped. I think you need to make amends, or apologize, or something. In order to really move on, I think it’s important.” There, she got it out in one breath.
The only reaction, the only indication that he’d even heard what she said was a momentary flexing of his fingers against her thigh. She’d warned him he wouldn’t like it.
Long, tense minutes passed without a word spoken. So much time, in fact, that she assumed he was just going to ignore the suggestion or that she’d pissed him off and he wasn’t speaking to her. Or, oh God, maybe he’d already decided he was going to stay with the Grimm Brothers. Maybe he had no plan to return to Idaho with her. No plan to change his life. It was in that moment that she realized just how much she wanted him to stay with her.
When he finally broke the silence, she jolted. “There’s a good chance either she or her ol’ man will just shoot me on sight. He’s one giant motherfucker. You saw what he did to me last time. You prepared to drag home a corpse?”
Amanda shuddered. For as long as she lived, she’d never forget what a mess he was when she first saw him, and that was after two weeks of healing time. “That was at the height of emotional distress, after he’d seen what you did to the woman he loves. What if I went with you? I could speak to them first, feel out the situation.”
“I don’t know, babe. It might be best for them to just continue believing I’m dead. It’s a lot of shit they’ll be reliving otherwise.”
Amanda chewed her lip and nodded. He made a good point. He also sounded like he wasn’t planning to go back to the MC. She wanted to ask if that was a possibility but was petrified of the answer so she remained silent. Last night he’d been so gentle, so loving. She had a deep fear that it was his way of saying goodbye.
“I do see where you’re coming from, though. That whole fucking disaster is the one thing I can’t reconcile in my head. The one regret I’ll carry with me to the grave. Can we table it until the rest of this shit is dealt with?”
“Yeah. Sorry. You have enough to worry about without me piling it on.”
They rolled to a stop at a red light and Nick faced her. He curled his hand around the back of her neck and dragged her to his mouth. The honk of a car horn made her jump and drew her back from a hot as hades kiss.
“Thanks for looking out for me.”
Warmth bloomed in her chest. Nick would make it. He’d be the one to come back to her after Snake dealt with his old club. He had to.
She wasn’t sure she’d survive otherwise.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Esteban hadn’t changed in the past year. The man was still big and well-built, with a smooth-shaved head and a don’t-fuck-with-me expression. Even when he smiled, the bastard looked closed off and standoffish. Rumor had it, El Impio had six children and a wife hidden away in a cartel-owned mansion somewhere deep in Mexico, but Snake wasn’t sure he believed that bit of gossip. Imagining Esteban all warm and cuddly snuggling some rug rats was akin to imagining a porcupine doing the same.
The rumors about El Impio didn’t stop there. Everything from his wealth, to his car collection, to his sexuality had a fantastic story attached to it. Ninety percent of the legends were probably false, but at least one was dead on. And that was the tale explaining the reason the man wore long-sleeved shirts no matter the temperature. You’d never catch him wearing anything that didn’t cover him shoulder to wrist, even on days well over one hundred degrees.
The story circulating had to do with a malfunctioning car bomb, a dramatic rescue, and extensive third degree burns on his torso and arms. And every word was true. Snake knew this one for a fact because he’d been there. He’d been the one to drag Esteban out of the burning car five years ago. Had the bomb exploded the way it was supposed to, Esteban’s enemies would have taken him out in a fiery execution. It explained the close working relationship between the cartel and the Grimm Brothers.
It also explained Esteban’s willingness to help Snake out.
“Hola, Culebra,” Esteban said, slapping Snake on the back. “You look good, amigo. Better than I expected.”
“Esteban.” He returned the man-hug then stepped a
way. He’d followed Esteban’s instructions and left his car at a local convenience store, riding into the desert with Esteban’s man. By some miracle, Amanda stayed back at the motel without much of a fight.
This entire situation felt surreal. It had been so long since he’d conducted underground business in the vast desert, it no longer felt natural. It was foreign and left him feeling exposed and vulnerable.
“Hop in the car,” Esteban said indicating the bright yellow corvette he somehow slipped across the border without issue. “Casper and your boys are due in twenty minutes. Should take us ten to get to the meeting spot.”
His boys. Not anymore. And strangely enough, he didn’t feel half the remorse he’d assumed this little trip down memory lane would bring. Not when he’d found something so much better.
“When this shit’s done, you gonna take back your seat on the MC throne? Rebuild your empire?”
Snake shrugged. “We’ll see. First I need to make sure Casper can’t come looking for me and mine in the future.”
“You and yours?” Esteban hooted with laughter. “Good pussy will take a man down every time. Even the mighty Snake ain’t immune. Can’t say I won’t miss working with you, amigo, but I get it. Getting stabbed in the fucking back by a trusted friend fucks with a man’s head. Throw in a good woman…yeah, I get why you want out.”
“I said, we’ll see. Didn’t say I was out.”
Esteban snorted. “Si, I heard what you said. And I said I’ll miss working with you.” At least one of them were confident in Snake’s ability to make the smart choice.
Esteban parked his flashy car on the side of the road. Behind him a cargo van, a pickup, and three other vehicles filled with his men pulled in. Some of the men filed out, awaiting orders from their leader. So many areas of the desert were sparsely populated or even uninhabited which made these kinds of meetings simple. Cops never bothered to venture out where they were. They’d just waste their day driving around staring at nothing but sand and shrubs. Perfect opportunity for all sorts of nefarious dealings.
Snake would know. The desolate desert had been his natural habitat for years.
“Hear that? You fuckin’ bikers. Ever heard of the word discreet? Those fuckin’ pipes could wake the dead.”
Snake raised an eyebrow and pointed to the yellow car with the tinted windows. “The man with the traveling sun shouldn’t be talking about discreet.”
Esteban threw back his head and let out a bark of laughter. “This car is my baby. Fuck, business ain’t been the same without you, amigo. And you better get in that car so your man doesn’t see you right away.” He rubbed his hands together like an evil villain. “I want him to be surprised.”
Two minutes later, about fifteen bikes roared into sight. Esteban’s car was far enough off to the side that Casper wouldn’t pay any attention to it and wouldn’t see Snake until he was ready to be seen. He’d rolled down the windows so he could hear the conversation.
A quick scan revealed he knew all but two of them, either new prospects or new patches since he’d been gone. Casper and Mo led the pack. By now, Casper obviously knew Snake was still among the living, but he’d never expect him to show up in Arizona. Anticipating the moment Casper laid eyes on his face had excitement zinging through Snake’s blood.
“Esteban,” Casper said as he dismounted and met the man halfway between their groups. The arrogant little shit refused Esteban’s offer of a handshake, causing El Impio’s jaw to clench in aggravation. He may be a lethal cartel leader, but Esteban believed in protocol and etiquette. Men shake at the beginning and end of a deal. A sign of respect on both ends. Casper was a fool. Esteban had killed for lesser acts of disrespect.
Not that it mattered. Casper’s time on earth was limited.
“Cash,” Esteban demanded.
Casper nodded to Mo who handed a large black duffel bag to Esteban who then passed it off to a man on his right.
“Drugs,” Casper said in a tone mimicking Esteban’s request for the money.
Knowing what was coming and knowing Casper was in the dark made the moment so much sweeter. Esteban felt it too if the tiny smirk that kept flicking across his face was any indication.
“After.” Esteban nodded to his man who unzipped the duffel and started the process of counting out the bills.
Silence descended as Esteban’s man totaled the money. Casper grew impatient and shifted right to left like a child who couldn’t sit still. Rarely had Snake’s old VP had the patience to make it through these deals without fidgeting. Esteban counted the money on scene. Each and every time. During every transaction. For years. Why would it be any different now?
It took about five minutes for Esteban’s man to verify the amount of money in the bag was the agreed upon amount. He nodded to his boss.
“Drugs,” Casper said again.
Esteban smiled and held up a hand, waving someone behind him forward. Presumably, it was the guy manning the truck. The normal procedure involved someone walking the drugs from Esteban’s truck over to the Grimm Brothers’ side.
Not today.
Snake stepped out of the corvette and took his time making his way toward Casper. For the first few steps, Casper’s attention was still on Esteban, so Snake had the advantage of studying Casper unseen. Then, Mo gasped and let out a low curse.
Casper’s gaze snapped to Snake’s and his old VP’s already pale complexion drained of any color. Satisfaction mixed with the anticipation in Snake’s blood. There wasn’t a need to speak just yet. The silence drew out the pleasure of the moment.
What had to be going through Casper’s head in that moment? Panic? Regret? Knowledge that he was fucked? Or maybe defiance. Quick mental planning to determine a way out, a way to get to Snake before he struck.
The heat of the mid-morning sun wrapped itself around Snake in a familiar manner. The air smelled clean and a light buzzing could be heard from a distant airplane. Snake’s senses were on alert, hyper aware of everything surrounding him.
What did it say of him that he found this act of revenge so sweet? That the idea of destroying Casper brought him actual pleasure? It said that no matter where life took him, some part of the outlaw would always be alive in him. Even if he lived by the name Nick in another state, far away from anything related to Snake. He could control the vicious and dangerous parts of his personality. He could fool everyone into thinking he was a civilized man. Beat back his demons and keep them down—as long as no one ever threatened Amanda, then all bets were off—but they would always be there. Buried deep. And that was fine. Because if some motherfucker dared threaten Amanda, he’d resurrect those dark parts of himself.
No hesitation. No regrets. No remorse.
He’d do anyfuckingthing to keep that woman safe and happy.
Mo’s phone rang and Snake shared a quick look with Esteban. His man was right on time. Mo answered it with a clipped, “What,” then his eyes grew wide and the phone slipped through his fingers landing in the sand with a dull thud.
Sweet satisfaction.
Mo’s homicidal glare landed on him and Snake could no better keep the grin off his face than he could stop breathing.
Come on, Mo. Tell Casper.
Mo turned and whispered into Casper’s ear. In an instant, Casper’s face turned into a mask of fury that would have terrified most men.
Snake was not most men.
That’s right, motherfucker. I did that.
“Bad news?” Esteban asked, breaking the silence.
Casper clenched and unclenched his fists at his side. Murderous rage had to be flowing through the man’s entire body, but what could he do? If he whipped out a gun and started shooting, Esteban’s goons would do the same and all he’d accomplish would be a bloody scene that ended in both their deaths. Casper may want Snake’s head on a platter, but not at the expense of his own life. He was too damned power hungry.
“The Bar is on fire,” Casper said in a slow, controlled tone. “Total loss. Apparently, t
here were multiple points of origin. Arson, they’re saying.” Gasps and curses sounded from the men who’d accompanied Casper. Most of them stared at Snake with gaping jaws and wide, confused eyes. He’d like to think most of the men were left in the dark about Casper’s attempt to kill him, but he couldn’t be sure.
“Huh,” Esteban said. “That’s unfortunate. You have a lot of enemies, Casper?”
“A few,” he returned.
Esteban had come through for Snake in more ways than one. The Bar as they called it, was an old rundown sports bar the club bought twenty or so years ago. From the outside, it looked abandoned. In a remote location, the club used The Bar to store money, drugs, guns. Anything of value or illegal was stored there. No one knew about it outside the club. At Snake’s request, Esteban sent a man to set fire to The Bar. Its loss would cripple the club. Casper had assumed Snake was dead and there was no reason to switch up the way they did things. A dead man wouldn’t come looking for revenge. No doubt Mo told him Snake was in fact alive, but Casper was such an arrogant bastard, he probably thought Snake would go into hiding.
Esteban’s man destroyed everything. The Grimm Brothers had nothing left. No money, no weapons, no drugs, no building. And now their main source of income, Esteban, was severing their working relationship.
“Should have done a better job at killing me,” Snake said.
Baffled murmurs rose up among the Grimm Brothers. Only Casper, Mo, and a guy named Sarge who served as enforcer for the club looked to be in the know. Those were the three he wanted. Those were the three that would die here today. Any one of those three would come for him in Idaho. There was only one way to keep Amanda safe for the long term.
And only one way to satisfy the need for vengeance. Really, he didn’t give a shit about Mo and Sarge. They were tools used by Casper to carry out his greedy plans. He’d leave those two to Esteban who wanted to have some fun of his own.
Casper would be left to Snake. The others would be spared and sent off to pick up the pieces of the ruined Grimm Brothers MC.
