by Love, Amy
Vicky nodded, hesitant to speak, lest he suddenly decide that he didn't want to be so talkative. “Well, to be honest, there's not that much to tell. I'll spare you the details of my childhood. I was a kid with a drunk dad. I got beat, and it pissed me off.” He shrugged. “Typical sob story. When I got out of the house and went away to school, the Eagles were there. They promised a kind of power I'd never had. They promised carefree times, a brotherhood, and trust; all things I didn't have much experience with. So, as you can imagine, I fucking jumped at the chance. I joined, and I found out the good times they were talking about were just getting high, smashing the shit out of store fronts, and getting kids high. There was a brotherhood, but it relied on the idea that a brother was a brother until shit got to be too much. Then, you could be dumped like a bad meatball sub. Trust...well, trust got me into a fucking mess.”
Staring off into the distance, Liam fell silent for a moment, simply staring at the ebb and flow of the waves beneath the horizon. “I trusted the wrong guy. A cop. He'd infiltrated the den, and I was completely taken in—maybe because it seemed like he was more willing to be a true brother to me than any of those idiots. I liked him. I dished every secret to him, and when he had enough information, the LAPD raided the Eagles' headquarters and took ten of the guys. Charges like murder, drug trafficking, shit like that. I was immune because I'd been an unwitting participant, but I'm sure you can imagine that Reggie didn't believe that.” Sighing, he kicked at the shallow water at their feet. “You know what's funny? I don't even fucking regret those bastards getting locked up. At least the Saints have the decency not to push drugs on kids or fucking go to town on girls in the middle of bars.”
The Saints did neither of these things, but if Liam thought that they truly lived up to their namesake, he had another thing coming. The Dark Saints were still big and still bad, and every other club in Cali knew it. “So you ran.” Vicky's statement was less accusatory than it was surprised.
Liam scowled. “If you have to call it that, yeah, I did. They wanted to put me away because their dumb asses couldn't see through the ruse. I wasn't the guy who brought the cop in. I just tried to make him feel at home. Pinning that shit on me made less sense than you might imagine. The Saints…the Saints is a new beginning for me. I'm untouchable for the first time in a long time. That's why I couldn't give it up, Vicky.” His lips curved into a wry little smile. “Even though I'm playing with fire dancing around Darren like this.”
Surprisingly, Vicky found herself smiling, as well.
So he'd been a scapegoat.
That was all.
The relief was so intense, her legs actually wobbled slightly beneath her. He hadn't been against Darren or the Saints, and he certainly hadn't told his story with any tell-tale sort of nervousness that might suggest that he was willing to whip the rug from under their little relationship. Vicky had never been as paranoid as her brother, but she had a skeptic streak.
And so far, Liam hadn't triggered it.
So far, he'd only proved himself to be a man unlike any she had ever known and a window into a world long forbidden to her.
The sudden freedom was intoxicating.
Suddenly, turning to the man, Vicky threw her arms around his neck in an uncharacteristic display of affection. Liam seemed just as shocked by the gesture as she was; but, nonetheless, he simply folded his arms around her to hold her close before pressing his lips briefly to the top of her head.
“So, I take it that was the answer you were looking for?”
Pulling back, Vicky gazed up at him in a new light, taking in his tousled brown locks, day old stubble, full mouth, and entrancing green eyes. “Whatever it was,” she breathed, “it was honest. That's all that matters.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
People had been talking.
As Liam entered the main den of the Dark Saints, he tensed, as always, at the looks other members shot him. While a select few were friendly, a month among them wasn't nearly enough time to prove his mettle. He still had rival gang members to beat up, drug deals to participate in, and, most of all, he still had to personally prove himself to Darren.
The last task, in particular, seemed to be more and more difficult as they days progressed. While, originally, Liam had thought that with careful planning and avoidance he and Vicky could ensure that their liaisons remained secret. However, they had been spending large amounts of time together that she had to use excuses to account for.
And Vicky's excuses were running thin.
Depending on the same girlfriends for the same stories was beginning to make Darren even more suspicious than usual. They'd begun to have to talk by payphone and had started meeting later and later in the day. Then, there was the threat that they'd run into one of the numerous members of the Saints in the streets. A single glance, a single word, and the game would be up. Unlike himself, the other Saints were doggedly loyal to their unhinged leader. When Darren said jump, they asked how high, bent over, and kissed their own asses.
However, it could be said that the man took good care of his own. The pay was good, the work was steady, and rowdy nights in seedy bars were numerous. Not that Liam was ever interested in paid women or getting drunk out of his mind. He only wanted Vicky, and as it got more and more difficult to see her, he found that he became more and more frustrated. He had to smile at Darren and work under him knowing that the man would be out for blood if anyone went near his sister. Recently, when he asked how Darren reacted to her being out so late, Vicky would become quiet and withdrawn.
Liam was worried.
Though she insisted that her brother had never hit her, he was sure that if he became frustrated enough, Darren would stop it at nothing to get the information he wanted. Plus, rumors about Vicky and possible boyfriends seemed more and more rampant by the day.
Maybe they hadn't been careful enough. Maybe Reggie had done as he'd said and let a little bird fly. Whatever the reason, Darren now had the entire organization on high alert. He was one step away from having his sister followed and, naturally, this raised Liam's ire.
“Liam.” At a meeting one day, he was called out. For an instant, Liam thought it might be over for him. As he approached the front of the low room where Darren stood—one of many in the expansive building they called headquarters—the man's expression was grim.
“Yeah, boss?”
Making eye contact with Darren's cold, sharp gaze was one of the hardest things he'd ever done in his life. Not only was the man powerful in word and deed, he was also pretty fucking jacked. More so, even, than Liam, and he worked out almost daily. Darren must be an absolute beast—physically, at least. There was no doubt that the man's psyche was quite animalistic. “I'm gonna need you on watch detail.”
His words gave Liam a start. Watch detail? What the hell was he talking about? “Boss?”
“Vicky. She's sneaking out. I know she is. I'm going to start putting a watch detail on her house every night. The damn girl doesn't know how much trouble she could get into. She doesn't even fucking think...” Trailing off, Darren shook his head, his face red with irritation. “She could be seeing someone in a rival gang. They could snatch her right out from under my fucking nose. So you,” he pointed at Liam, and then at another, burly African- American man with dreads, Sean, and continued, “and you, and you.”
His final choice was a blonde, stocky older man named Matt, the late Shmitty's older brother. Despite the fact that his leader had taken out his younger sibling in cold blood, the man was still fiercely loyal to him. In Liam's mind, this suggested either crazed devotion or a level of insanity on par with that of Darren himself. “Starting at 8pm every night, you're going to post up outside her building. We'll do it secret. If she leaves, tail her. I want to know where she's going. If she turns out to be meeting with someone we know is from a rival crew, you get her ass out of there.” His eyes took on an almost maniacal glint. “If it's some regular ass motherfucker, bring me his balls. He should know better than to touc
h my sister.”
A few of the Saints chuckled at this, but Liam wasn't among their number. He was that regular ass motherfucker, and if he hadn't been a member of the Saints, his goose would have effectively been cooked. As it stood now, it was going to be impossible for him to see Vicky, and he had no way to tell her without exposing them.
She would be walking right into their trap.
Nonetheless, there was nothing he could do or say at this particular moment that wouldn't betray him. Instead, he only nodded curtly, grateful that he hadn't been called out to be castrated, among other torturous acts.
The meeting covered a fair few other topics, including the fact that the Black Eagles and the Gilded Dragons, a gang based in Chinatown, were encroaching on their territory. While Darren considered the Black Eagles to be mostly a non-threat, the Gilded Dragons were another story entirely. Ruthless and bloodthirsty, they ruled LA's Chinatown underworld not unlike the triads ruled Hong Kong.
Lately, they had been taking over some of the Saints most profitable corners, and Darren selected a crew of twenty-five to head down to their headquarters to negotiate.
Then, there was the matter of making sure that all the bikes were tuned and that no one needed extra arms. Since Liam, Sean, and Matt had been selected to protect Vicky, they had been awarded one extra firearm a piece, just in case.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
When the meeting was adjourned, the seventy men who had attended it headed for a nearby bar. They others planned drinks, revelry, and general mayhem. All except for the three that had been assigned to Vicky. They, with Darren, mounted their bikes and headed south towards her apartment. Liam was careful to follow well behind Darren and the others. If he revealed even the slightest knowledge of Vicky's neighborhood, he was done. It was easier said than done since Darren's ancient bike bled poisonous fumes into his face
His stomach uneasy, he paused along with the others as they came up on Vicky's building. Several lights were on within the six-story structure despite the fact that it was almost eleven o'clock. No doubt most had plans to head downtown and lose themselves in the ritzy craziness of the Hollywood strip.
Discreetly, the four men parked their bikes about one hundred meters down from the building before doubling back. From there, Liam, Sean, and Matt were directed to various hidden positions around the landscaped lawn. Darren himself strode with purpose toward the building, and Liam's heart was in his throat as the man disappeared inside.
Currently, Liam couldn't see anyone inside the apartment he knew to be Vicky's. The light was on, announcing she was home, and he knew around now she would be preparing to come out and meet him. Their usual plan was for her to take a taxi to an obscure part of town where he would be waiting for her with his bike. Then, they would decide what trouble they wanted to get into for the evening.
Darren was bound to walk in on her right in the middle of her preparations.
At the thought, Liam's stomach clenched.
There was nothing he could do but wait with bated breath.
The minutes stretched longer and longer until it seemed like an hour had passed; but, in reality, it had barely been fifteen minutes.
Then, he saw her.
The young woman passed in front of the living room window, and even from his place fifty meters away, Liam could see that she was dressed in a clinging garment, her hair and make-up done up beautifully.
It was all for him. When she felt the brunt of Darren's wrath, it would all be his fault.
Then, the leader of the Saints appeared beside his sister in the window. Liam watched as he advanced on Vicky, taking her shoulder to jerk her around. She appeared shocked as he took her shoulders firmly in his hands and shook her, hard. So hard, in fact, that her hair came down and her head snapped back and forth.
He appeared to be demanding something of her. Liam could muffled yelling, even from his hiding place. Quickly, he glanced at the locations of both Sean and Matt. Both seemed just as engrossed as in the scene as he was, and neither had turned to watch his reactions. It was a good thing, too; Liam couldn't keep the rage at bay. How could the man treat his own sister like that? She was a human being! She might have immersed herself in a rough world, but that was no reason to manhandle her.
He continued to watch the pair of them argue through the window, Darren seeming more and more infuriated with every word he spoke. Vicky, on the other hand, seemed to be trying to calm him down. She had told Liam that she tended to butt heads with her brother when it came to arguments, and so her timidity in and of itself would be telling. She was gesturing to Darren, trying to get him to loosen his grip apparently.
Then, the man hauled off and slapped her.
Though he couldn't physically hear it, the blow echoed in Liam's head as loudly as if he had been present in the room. Ever fiber of his being screamed in protest, and it was all he could do not to leap from where he was and go for the apartment. However, to do so would condemn both Vicky and himself. He needed an excuse to get in there, and he needed one now.
Madly, Liam wracked his brain.
The moment he came up with something halfway feasible, he struggled to arrange his face into a semblance of calm. It took precious seconds, but somehow, he managed. Once he had done so, he gestured to Sean and Matt, both of whom came over to him.
He flashed the men his cell phone where an earlier unread text message scrolled across the screen. They barely had time to glance at the message in the time he revealed it, and he merely hoped that they didn't question his next actions. “Just got a message. It might be a tip about this mystery guy.” He nodded up to the window, trying to ignore, for the moment, the way Darren was screaming straight into Vicky's face. Measuring every word carefully, Liam spoke again. “I gotta tell the boss. Maybe we can catch this guy in the act.”
“Well, what the fuck are you still standing here for?” Matt snapped, piggy eyes narrowing. “Get up there.”
“Be sure you don't interrupt him.” Sean's deep baritone boomed. “He might slap you around a bit, too.” The hulking man seemed to find this attempt at humor hilarious, but it was all Liam could do not to cave in his smug face.
Turning away, Liam strode across the lawn quickly, trying not to remain riveted on the scene in the window above him. He kept his mind as clear as he could, knowing that to avoid revealing himself when he faced Darren, he was going to have to use every ounce of deception he had in his body.
Luckily, the man had already given Sean, Matt, and him Vicky's apartment number so he didn't have to pretend to be looking for them.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
By the time he reached the fourth floor, his hands were sweating. He could hear the two arguing clearly through the door. In typical Vicky fashion, instead of being frightened by being hit, she was pissed.
“You hit me, you fucking bastard!”
“You need some sense smacked into you, you dumbass girl. Who are you seeing? Don't tell me you're getting dressed up for nothing. People talk, and I've heard rumors. Tell me where you've been going or so help me fucking God—”
Liam chose that moment to knock on the door loudly, and both parties within fell silent. Wincing slightly, he knocked again, this time more insistently. “Boss. Darren. Some shit is going down. We need to talk.”
Vicky was smart. Hopefully, she was just as adept as he was at playing ignorant.
There was another terse moment in which he saw in his mind's eye his boss choking the life out of his sister's slender neck before the door opened, revealing a flushed Darren, his icy blue eyes glinting on the edge of madness. “What?” His snarl was enough to make even Liam draw back slightly in deference.
“Darren, man…” Liam hesitated, drumming up his excuse. He took a chance and glanced back at Vicky, certain to make sure his expression exuded annoyance rather than concern. Such feigning was hard when the girl stared back at him, bedraggled with her right cheek starting to swell into a bruise. “It's private. Can't have your sister listening in
.”
Raking his hands through his hair in aggravation, Darren threw the door open, gesturing Liam inside. “Sit the fuck down.” He pointed at the couch before turning his back on the man. “I have to finish this.”
Then, he set in on Vicky once more. As Liam had hoped, in his presence, the man wasn't so rough; but, unfortunately, the physical damage had already been done. He took Vicky's bare shoulders firmly in his hands once more, staring down at her intensely. “You'd better fucking tell me who you've been sneaking out to see, Vicky.” His voice turned suddenly pleading—so quickly, in fact, that had Liam not witnessed the physical transformation himself, he might have thought that Darren was two different people. “You're killing me, Victoria.” Now, he sounded as if he were the victim. “Anyone could be coming after us, and you'd be walking right into some kind of trap.”
“Darren, I told you I was going out to dinner with my girlfriends. Call them. Fucking ask them.” She was now cradling his injured cheek in a hand as she glared up at her brother. “Why the fuck can't you just trust me? I'm not some Black Eagle who's trying to undermine you and bring you down. I'm your goddamn sister.”
