SAVAGE HEART (Layne & Shelby Book Two) (A Devil Call MC Book)

by Fawkes, Ana W.

  “Bad enough,” the officer said.

  “That’s why you wanted to be a cop? To help people. People who can’t help themselves. Because your mother never had the nerve to stand up for herself.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “No. Fuck you.”

  I threw my head forward and smashed it against the bridge of his nose. It exploded. Office Jenning fell to his back and groaned.

  I took the cuffs off Brett and Hawke. “You okay?”

  “Great,” Brett said.

  “What happened?”

  “They rolled up and we fought.”

  “You lost,” I said.

  “They had guns.”

  “So do you.”

  “They’re cops, Layne,” Brett said. “There’s a line…”

  “Fuck the line,” I growled. “This is our goddamn town. Everyone needs to understand that right now.” I got nose to nose with Brett. “Mountain Killers think they can roll through here? I’ve got suits after me. Local PD. Heat everywhere. And you’re worried about some punk cops?”

  “I’m sorry,” Brett whispered.

  “Fucking right you are.”

  I walked to my motorcycle and got ready to ride.

  Finn, Brett, and Hawke hurried to follow me.

  I left the bar behind me for now. There was nothing there. Maybe there would eventually be something there. It would take time and money to patch up the bar. Christ, and it was up to Pep and his will to fight to live to get back to his bar.

  The throttling thunder was a loud relief to my mind.

  We cruised through Oakville. I kept my eyes open, always looking. We needed a business meeting as soon as possible. The bottom line was that our enemies weren’t going to come to us. We were going to go after them. One by one. Making our fucking statement as we went along.

  The piece of paper with Shelby’s mother’s name and info was in my breast pocket. That was a mess too. I had to kill her. The mother of the woman who I gave half a shit about. Shelby had been looking for her mother, thinking she would find an escape.

  Good luck.

  Back at the clubhouse, I pulled into the lot and saw a barrage of damage.

  The gates were open. The prospects were basically hugging each other, rubbing their faces and eyes. There were motorcycles tipped over. Finally, Ransom was on his hands and knees, rocking back and forth.

  I hurried to stop and jumped off my ride.

  “Layne!” Brett yelled. “Let me go first! You’re President!”

  “Fuck that,” I said.

  I wasn’t going to hide behind anyone or anything. I’d jump into the fire for the cut. That’s what it all meant to me. My job was to fix Oakville, not just hide out and get my dick sucked.

  “Are you okay?” I asked Ransom.

  He gave a thumbs up. There were tears streaming down his cheeks.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “Inside… Don’t…” Ransom groaned and slid forward.

  I looked back and Finn was running after me.

  I charged toward the clubhouse. I kicked open the door, no idea what the hell to expect. There was no blood, which was good. But that didn’t mean shit wasn’t waiting to go down.

  The bar was empty. The place silent. I had different groups of guys out on different runs. I was trying to keep our presence known around Oakville, no matter what the fuck was happening.

  I heard a creaky footstep.

  By the time I turned my head, there was yet another fucking gun pointed at me.

  9.

  (Shelby)

  “Where’s your Daddy at, little girl?”

  “What do you want?” I asked.

  “Hey, hey. Show some respect. At least for the suit.” The man tugged at his suit jacket. “Answer my fucking question, little girl. Or maybe I’ll have my guys behind the car come get you. Rough you up a little. You want that? I bet you do. I bet you’d like it. You little fucking minx.”

  He reached into the car and tried to touch my cheek. I slapped his hand away.

  “Get away,” I said. “Who are you?”

  “Daddy inside that trailer, huh? Man, did he fall hard. The sad part is, he’s probably watching right now. Shitting his pants. Holding his rifle like it was his dick. He wants to shoot me. Hell, maybe he wants to shoot you. That would help.”

  My heart was pounding hard. I wished I would have stayed with the dogs back at the clubhouse. I had no business leaving, like Layne said. Goddamn him for being right all the time. Goddamn him for wanting to protect me, even if he couldn’t be honest with me.

  Maybe this was why.

  Maybe it all made sense.

  Now I just needed to leave.

  “Look, little girl, I’m not here to hurt you. At least this time.”

  I looked at the guy. He was smooth. Kind of ugly though, but the suit gave him an aura of power and money. There was death hidden in his eyes. He had killed people. And he was staring right down at me.

  “You don’t look older than me,” I said. “Stop calling me little girl.”

  “What if I told you we’ve met before?”

  I swallowed hard. “What?”

  “You and me, little girl. Playing in the yard. Right before Sunday dinner. The best goddamn lasagna you ever had.”

  I jogged through my memory but couldn’t pick anything up.

  The guy smiled.

  He leaned down and nodded. “It’s okay, little girl. I wouldn’t have remembered me then. I ate too many meatballs and started to look like one. Then I went on my first ride. Nobody knew I was there. I watched my uncle stab a man to death. I’ll never forget it. The sound of the knife cutting into his skin, scratching against bone. That’s when I knew. I was meant for that. But don’t worry, I’m not going to stab you.”

  “Then what do you want?”

  “The enjoyment of all this. This nice town. So wide open. Imagine what I can do to it.”

  “What are you some kind of business guy?” I asked.

  “Yeah. That’s exactly what I am.”

  I slowly moved my hand to the right. I started to press on the shifter, knowing if I could do it right, I could speed away. I have been around long enough to know when not to trust a situation. This was one of those times. If I lingered and talked to this guy I was going to end up dead. Or kidnapped.

  Christ.

  If this guy took me, he could use me as bait for Layne and Devil Call MC.

  I had really fucked up big time.

  Then again, would Layne even give a shit if I was kidnapped? If it came down to him choosing between saving me and saving the MC, what would he do?

  My thumb had the button engaged. I just need to press the brake, pull down to drive, and then go wild.

  “You’re not going to get away from me, little girl. From us. Take your leather cuts and your boyfriend’s fat dick… enjoy it while you can.”

  I looked at the guy. “Who are you?”

  “You really don’t remember me. I’m Nicolas, little girl. We played twice together. Just twice. Then I grew up fast. Kind of like you did. Let me give you something to take with you. Nobody loves you. Nobody cares about you. Nobody ever has or ever will. I’m not sorry for that.”

  Something inside me snapped.

  I spit in Nicholas’ face.

  I hit the brake, pulled the shifter, then slammed on the gas. The back of the car sliced left to right, dirt and rocks kicking all over. My car flew forward. I screamed and cut the wheel to the right. The car spun and I straightened the wheel. I checked my mirrors and saw a cloud of dust.

  My car flew forward and I regained control. I didn’t let off the gas pedal at all. Each time I looked in the mirror I saw Nicholas standing there with his guys. They weren’t rushing to get into their car and chase me. They just stood there and watched me.

  I was shaking to the point where I screamed. I had no tears. I couldn’t cry. I couldn’t freak the hell out and call Layne either. I could only scream. The scream came from deep wit
hin my chest, my heart, my soul.

  Because I was as scared as I could ever remember in my entire life. Even more than when I believed a monster lived in my closet.

  Right then, I realized a couple things.

  First, monsters were real.

  Second, so was the mafia.

  And they knew me.

  10.

  (Layne)

  “Fucking Christ, babe,” I yelled and slapped at the bitch’s hand.

  The gun fell out of her hand to the ground. I lunged forward, tackling the bitch to the ground. Not because I wanted to hurt her, but because I knew the little fucking gun was going to throw a bullet when it hit the ground.

  Which it did.

  The bullet pinged a wall and the entire clubhouse was silent.

  Except for me breathing.

  The bitch stared at me. “Well, this is nice. A big, thick biker on me. I like it.”

  “What the fuck,” I growled and put my hands to the ground.

  I pushed up and the bitch wrapped her arms around my neck. “Hey. Sorry about the gun thing. I’ll let you get one for free.”

  “Get one… get the fuck away from me.”

  I scrambled to my feet and felt like kicking the bitch. She sat up and put her hand out for me. Now that I wasn’t facing a fucking gun, I was able to look at her. Focus on her. She wore a low cut black shirt with big tits pouring from the top. Her blonde hair was pulled back and red pouty lips were looking at me with lethal intentions. She had bright blue eyes and everything that screamed of naughty innocence.

  I figured it was some stripper looking for protection.

  I helped her up and she tried stumbling toward me. I moved to the side and guided her to the bar.

  “You hurt Ransom?” I asked.

  “Fuck yeah,” she said.

  “My prospects at the gates?”

  “Sprayed them with pepper spray.”

  “The motorcycles?”

  “Kicked the fucking things over.”

  “And then you barged into my clubhouse, with a gun.”

  “Basically.”

  I made fists. After the fucking day I’d had, this was the last thing I needed.

  “What did you do to Ransom?”

  “Grabbed his balls as hard as I could and twisted.”

  “So that explains why he couldn’t stand up and talk.”

  “He’ll be sore for a while. I know what I’m doing down there.”

  “You have experience twisting guys’ balls?”

  “When they ask. And pay. Sure.”

  “Pay?” I rolled my eyes. “Motherfucker.”

  “Name’s Jessa. And your boy out there owes me four grand.”

  I laughed. “Squeezing his balls isn’t going to make quarters and dimes fall out, babe.”

  “I’m not looking for quarters and dimes,” Jess said. “I want it right now.”

  “I don’t carry that kind of cash around,” I said.

  “Then I’ll wait. Can I get a drink at least?”

  I stuck my fingers in my mouth and whistled. Two prospects came out of the kitchen.

  I pointed to Jessa. “Get her a beer. Get me one too. Now.”

  For whatever reason I was completely intrigued.

  “Are you alone?” I asked.

  “Yeah. But if I don’t take my cash back, I’ll be in trouble.”

  “You’re a fucking hooker?”

  “I would prefer the word escort.”

  “You kickback to a guy?”

  “It’s not a kickback. It’s business expenses. If I don’t pay my bills, I get in trouble.”

  “He hurt you?”

  “He can.”

  “Has he?”

  “What’s it matter to you?”

  I took a drink of beer. I put the bottle down. I put a hand to the small space on the barstool where Jessa wasn’t sitting. I put my mouth close to her ear. “Let me look at this way. You fucking busted through my gates. You attacked my prospects. You damaged my property. You hurt one of my patched in members. You broke into my clubhouse. You put a gun to my head. And now you’re drinking a beer at my bar. If anything you should have a bullet in your fucking head.”

  “I’d prefer a cock inside me. Yours.”

  “I can’t afford four large for pussy.”

  “Ransom has a tab going,” Jessa said. “And I’m calling it.”

  “A tab?”

  “He used the club’s name for good measure. This is over a few months time.”

  “You’ve been fucking him for free for that long?”

  “He’s been fucking me,” Jessa said. “We really aren’t supposed to talk about what clients want. But Ransom just wants me to bend over and take it. That, and hand jobs. He loves those. Weird.”

  For some reason, damn me, I felt myself getting angry. I imagined Ransom walking into some escort service, wearing his leather cut, demanding pussy at a discount because he was a Devil Call MC member. And then doing that… he asks for some bitch to stroke his cock until he goes?

  “You look pissed, Layne,” Jessa said.

  “I am. You’re not leaving with four thousand. Sorry, babe.”

  “Then I’ll call my guy.”

  “Are you fucking threatening me?” I asked.

  “I told you…”

  I grabbed my beer bottle and smashed it off the bar. I put the jagged edge to Jessa’s neck and gritted my teeth. “If you’re going to threaten me, do it fucking right. Get the fuck out of my clubhouse, whore.”

  “Don’t act like you don’t want it,” Jessa said. “You’re jealous. I can see it in your eyes. You can hold a knife to my throat when you fuck me. I’m okay with that.”

  “I will never fuck you, babe.” I took the glass away from her neck. I got her gun off the floor and handed it to her. “Either shoot me or get out.”

  “Maybe I’ll go shoot Ransom then.”

  “Be my guest,” I said with a grin.

  Jessa walked to the door and opened it. She looked back at me. “Four grand is a lot in my world.”

  “Tell you what. Tell your guy you had a meeting with me. We’ll work it out.”

  “In the meantime, I’m broke.”

  I reached into my pocket and grabbed some cash. Probably a hundred bucks, if that. I took it to Jessa and opened her hand.

  “Here,” I said. “Now I’ll be broke.”

  “Is this a down payment?”

  “It’s not that much.”

  “For you, you don’t need to pay all that much.”

  It shouldn’t have happened, but my cock throbbed in my pants. After all, I was a man. And Jessa liked to fuck. She liked to do anything, for the right price.

  “Get out,” I said.

  I’d done enough trouble seeking temptation since coming to Oakville.

  I watched as Jessa walked away. Her ass filled her jeans tight. Not as nice as Shelby’s though.

  Fucking Shelby.

  I cringed at the thought that I still had to track down her mother and kill her.

  Jessa walked to Ransom, who was sitting on his ass. She then lifted her shirt and stood there for a second.

  Ransom’s eyes went wide.

  “Goddamn,” I whispered.

  Jessa kneed Ransom in the nose and kept walking.

  The prospects she had sprayed in the face were standing there, waiting for her. They let her out and then shut the gates.

  Ransom looked at me, blood dripping from his nose.

  That’s when I made my move.

  I approached him slowly, watching a look of shame spread across his face. He offered his hand and I lifted him up to his feet.

  I put my hand to his throat and squeezed. “You motherfucker. I asked if anyone had debts.”

  “It’s pussy,” he said in a weak voice.

  His face was turning red.

  “And pussy has power behind it. She’s got a guy she reports to.”

  “He’s a fucking punk.”

  “I don’t care. I asked
if anyone owed…”

  “Christ, I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, you’re real fucking sorry. You’re four grand in debt to pussy? We get all we want here. Fuck.”

  “It’s different with her,” Ransom said. “It’s just different.”

  I started to squeeze harder on Ransom’s throat. I wanted to kill him. I really did. I thought about it too. Send a clear message to anyone else in the club that might have been hiding something from me.

  Then my cell started to ring. I checked and saw it was Jet calling.

  “What?” I yelled into the phone.

  “Prez, it’s bad! Shelby’s on the run right now. Something has her…”

  I let Ransom go. He fell to the ground, coughing. I looked around and realized Shelby’s car was fucking missing. I ran into the clubhouse and kicked open her door. The room was empty. My room was empty.

  “Fuck,” I whispered.

  I hurried back outside and went for my motorcycle.

  “What the fuck is happening?” Finn asked me.

  “I have to go find Shelby. Everyone else stay here. Guard the gates.”

  If Shelby was going to keep this shit up, then a woman like Jessa would keep looking more and more fucking tempting.

  11.

  (Layne)

  The road wasn’t long enough to keep me away from her. I’d fucking chase her to the end of the world if I needed to. My heart raced to find her yet my mind had no idea why it fucking mattered. I tried to convince myself that her connection was important. Her mother was supposed to die by my hands. Her father had ties to the mafia. Shelby didn’t know anything about it, but she had purpose. And that purpose went beyond getting in between the sheets with me.

  Fuck.

  I caught up with Jet and he signaled that she was cruising a mile up the road. He’d been smart enough to hang back and stay away so that he didn’t scare her into speeding or hurting herself. She was, however, getting dangerously close to enemy territory. No chance she would go near the Mountain Killers. They’d tear her apart without giving a fuck about her, me, or the MC. That meant she was trying to jump Oakville and probably jump the state. Christ, that would put her right into the arms of the mafia. Not to mention Devil Call MC had charters everywhere. I could make a fucking call and have another crew out to get her.