“I know,” I said. I forced a smile. “I’m just going to catch my breath. I’m a little nervous for him.”
“Okay.”
“I meant, alone. Just leave me alone.”
“Sure,” Brett said. “Sorry.”
Brett disappeared and I went to work.
There were vehicles and motorcycles everywhere. I couldn’t ride a motorcycle, but I could drive a car. My car had been trashed by Layne. That was fine.
I kicked open the door to the garage and grabbed a set of keys. I found the car that went to them and started it.
I was going to follow Layne.
17.
(Layne)
The ride was going smooth. The road was open, the night was clear. I kept my eyes open and ready for anything that waited for us. The tricky part was switching from the road to the dirt. I could only think about the Mountain Killers trying to place a bomb for us to find and get blown up with. All I could do was trust in Johnston and the Dark Angels. He did a clean sweep of the area twice and if this run was as important as he made it sound, we’d be fine.
Then again, it didn’t save us from an ambush.
We cruised through the dirt and into a thicker forest area. I knew the way because it was the only way. We stopped once right where Johnston said to stop so we could pick up some camping equipment to attach to the back of our rides. That way if a cop stopped us or someone spotted us, we’d look like a group of bikers looking for a place to set up shop for the night.
Then we kept riding.
And riding.
The night dragged on.
I wasn’t stupid either. I saw the car behind us an hour into our ride. At first, I worried we were being tagged. But I knew it was Shelby.
Christ.
And what was I supposed to do? We were on a deadline. There was no way we could stop and ruin this. As long as Shelby was following us, she was safe. The only person at the clubhouse who knew about our ride right now was Brett. I told him so when the call came through, he could tell everyone. I needed him sober and coherent to help coordinate the clubhouse. Just in case the Mountain Killers tried to do something. Or someone tried to look for me.
I pictured him telling Shelby, thinking he was helping her. But she was crazy enough to follow me.
Why?
I’d figure that out soon.
First, I had to make this grab.
There was a campsite set up right where Johnston said there would be. Two men, two women, each of them holding a baby, all sat around a fire. We pulled up, stopped, and I climbed off my ride.
“Evening,” I said. “Sorry to be a pain, but we need some water.”
That was the code.
“Sure,” the one guy said. He stood up. “Let me go fill up some canteens for you.”
The other guy stood up.
They walked away.
The two women remained seated, each rocking a baby. They both looked at me. They looked terrified. It wasn’t my problem.
“If you want something to eat,” one of the women said. “There’s some snack food in the orange bucket there.”
That was the other cue.
The bucket was huge. When I took the lid off, there were snack foods. Just one small layer though. The rest were backpacks. I was under clear agreement with Johnston I wouldn’t open the backpacks. That’s where the shipment was all contained.
I gave the prospects the backpacks to wear. The extras were strapped to the sides of their rides. I gave clear warnings that if they even breathed the wrong way, they’d eat a bullet as their last meal.
The two men came back with water for us.
I took a drink and shook their hands.
“Thanks,” I said. “We’re good to go now. There’s other sites around here?”
“Right up the road,” the one guy said with a nod. “Right up to the right. It’s all clear.”
That was the last cue.
That meant Johnston had the rest of the way clear for the delivery.
I got to my ride and started it. I led the way a few miles along and slowed, waiting to see the car behind us. I could tell Hawke and Ransom were nervous about the car. Luckily, they looked to me for orders and I gave none. There were no orders right now. This was about making Shelby go through the campsite area without getting herself hurt. Those two families were probably paid by Johnston to have that orange bucket. It made me cringe to think about. Those little babies. Young families. Being under control of Johnston.
When I saw the lights of the car, I started to speed up. I made up for some lost time. Hours collected and fell. The motorcycles had enough fuel to get to the drop off. We’d then fuel up and then split up. I’d send Hawke, Ransom, and the prospects back. They’d go alone. I’d tell them I had business. Then I’d have to deal with Shelby. And get her ass back to Oakville too. Because of what I had to do with the name on a piece of paper and my gun.
We ended up back on a main road. Far from Oakville. Far from our territory and protection of Devil Call MC. We were open targets out here, running on nothing but the logo on our cuts and the respect we hoped to have earned for those who saw us.
The drop off point was another campsite. A campground that had a sign that it was shut down for repairs. That was just a rouse though.
I parked my motorcycle at the first cabin and climbed off. I stretched my back, listening to the sounds of the dark woods alive.
There was a flicker of light in the cabin.
I knocked on the door and a woman answered it. She was dark skinned and looked pissed off.
“You’re three minutes late,” she said.
“My deepest apologies,” I said.
Johnston told me his mother would be waiting for us. She took the bags, carried them into another room, and then came out.
“They all check out. You did good. No problems?”
“Nothing.”
“No tails? Bullets? Fights?”
“Nothing.”
“Good,” she said. “You’ll hear from us soon.”
“Okay.”
“You’re clear on the way back. No matter how you go. My boy has plenty to watch for you. But once you cross your own goddamn border, you’re on your own.”
“Understood,” I said.
I shook the woman’s hand. She had a fierce grip.
We then went back to our rides.
The sun was coming up over the horizon. It was a new day. We could ride back to Oakville with a greater sense of freedom in our hearts. We had nothing on us that could get us into trouble.
“You guys are heading back without me,” I said as I leaned against my motorcycle.
“What are you talking about?” Ransom asked.
“I have other business.”
“With the Dark Angels?” Hawke asked.
“I can’t talk about it,” I said. “The less you know the better. It’s for the better of the club though.”
“Jesus, Layne,” Ransom said. “That doesn’t sound good at all. That’s the shit Rex used to say.”
Rex.
The old President.
Was he like me? Running guns for cash? Taking orders from the mafia?
“Just go the fuck back,” I ordered. “I’ll make a call soon. You’ll know when I’m coming.”
“You can’t ride that far by yourself, man,” Hawke said. “Orders or not, I’ll refuse. You can kill me.”
“I’ll keep the prospects. Then I’ll call and you guys can ride my way and we’ll meet halfway. Okay?”
“You’re staying local here?”
“Don’t worry about me,” I said.
I had bigger things to worry about. Like how shitty of a job Shelby did trying to follow me. And the fact that all the love I felt in my heart for her needed to go away. It was easier to live with hate. I could manage hate… but I couldn’t manage love.
My life wasn’t the kind that was meant for love.
Shelby was about to learn that lesson first hand.
18.
(Shelby)
Layne looked at me. Finally.
I had been driving all damn night. I was tired, achy, confused.
He walked toward me and I opened the car door, climbing out. I moved toward him and lunged at him, hugging him.
“I just couldn’t…”
Layne put his hands to my belly and shoved me off him. I stumbled back and stared as he looked pissed.
“I know you’re mad. But you didn’t give me a chance to talk to you.”
“What are you trying to prove?” he asked.
“I know where she is!”
“What? Who?”
“My mother, Layne. My father finally told me. That’s why I wanted to talk to you. I was going to ask you to let me come with you. We can go find her right now. I can finally…”
Emotion rose up in my throat. I couldn’t help myself. This was what I had been waiting for.
Layne stepped toward me, shaking his head. “This is a fucking mess. You need to get into that car and go back.”
“What if I say no? What if I say fuck you? I want this. I need this.”
“Yeah? You think you do.”
“I know it,” I said. “She’s my mother!”
“And what if she’s not what you thought?” Layne put his hands to my shoulders. “I’m telling you to leave.”
“I’m saying I won’t.”
I watched Layne grit his teeth. His hands slid to my arms and he pulled me against him. His eyes were wide. He was full of emotion. I didn’t care though. I’d push him to the edge to get it all out of him. This was my offering. Following him. Demanding him.
“You want it? Fine. Fucking fine, Shelby.”
Next thing I knew I was being pulled to his motorcycle. I guess we were leaving the car behind. Not that it was actually registered to anyone. It was a junker that would confuse the hell out of whoever found it.
For the next hour I was behind Layne, my hands touching his body. I felt muscle through his shirt. I was wet half the time. There was nothing quite like that feeling of being on the back of his ride.
When we came to a stop, we were across from a building. It looked like an auto garage. It almost had the slight appeal of the lot and clubhouse back in Oakville.
I jumped off the motorcycle and Layne grabbed me, holding me.
“Wait,” he ordered.
“Why?”
“I said so.”
My heart raced, waiting for something to happen.
Two cars pulled into the lot. One guy got gas at a gas pump, the other guy went into the garage. He came out carrying something and then left.
Another car pulled up. It parked along the side of the building and the driver’s door opened. A woman stepped out and looked around. The second I saw her, I just knew it.
It was my mother!
I pulled at Layne and squeezed tighter.
“What are you fucking doing?” I asked. “There she is! I have to go…”
Layne looked down at me. I could see it in his face.
Something was wrong.
He let me go and I didn’t run from him.
“What is it? Is she in trouble? Wait… how…”
My mind had been so messed up, I didn’t even realize that Layne had brought us here. I hadn’t told him where she was. That meant he knew already.
I stepped back. “You knew. You knew where she was. You never told me.”
“Shelby, sweetheart, it’s not what you think.”
“What?”
Layne took a piece of paper out of his leather cut. He showed it to me. “I got this from someone. From Nicolas.”
“The mafia guy,” I whispered.
“Yeah. When I was kidnapped. This was why.”
“That paper? My mother’s name and address?”
“She works at the place,” Layne said. “She’s not straight. She’s in big trouble.”
“How bad?”
“There’s a hit on her. Nicolas and his guys want her dead.”
I touched my mouth. I shook my head. “No. That can’t happen. We have to help her. We can…”
Layne shook his head. “No, sweetheart. We can’t do that.” Layne slammed a fist down on the seat of his motorcycle. “Fuck. This was why I told you to stay there. I was going to take care of it all and then come back and explain.”
“Take care of it all,” I whispered. “What does that mean, Layne?”
Layne looked back at me. His sexy, chiseled face looked evil now. The man I loved. The man I trusted to protect. He took a breath and destroyed the rest of my world.
“I’m here to do it,” he said. “I’m here to kill your mother.” Layne then turned and pulled a gun out, pointing it at me. “And you can’t stop me, sweetheart.”
~*~
“Sir?”
Nicolas turned from the window, hands in his pockets.
“Jimmy, what do you want?”
“Your friends are here, sir,” Jimmy said.
Nicolas grinned.
It was much easier to just pay for it. Any man who took the time to care about a woman was a fool. Plus, the investment in these women were nothing short of life saving for Nicolas. They were his favorite drug. Better than taking over a town. More refreshing than a fresh kill. More thorough exercise than digging a fresh grave.
Tonight he had ordered three. Two of the women would handle each other while the third took care of him.
“Send them to the loft, Jimmy,” Nicolas ordered.
“Sir, of course.”
“Jimmy… send him in right now.”
Jimmy nodded and left the room.
Nicolas faced the window again.
It was all coming together now. Layne would follow order. Just as Bob always did. The old guy in the club, Rex, he didn’t fit in so well. Plus, he wasn’t what Nicolas wanted. Rex was skittish. He thought he was tougher than everyone. What a damn fool.
Nicolas liked to think. It was better to be thorough than sorry.
Oakville had a lot of useful resources. The town would be just fine. It would be just for Nicolas and his family.
Someone cleared his throat.
Nicolas turned and saw Tyson standing there. What an amazing project this had all become. Tyson loved to fight. Loved to kill. Something in his blood, just like his brother, Layne.
And now, after a few weeks of leaving himself go, his facial hair was unkempt. And he stood there in black jeans, a black t-shirt, and a leather jacket.
“Damn,” Nicolas whispered. He approached Tyson and touched his shoulders. “You look just like him.”
“I don’t like the feeling.”
“But I do. Are you ready for this?”
“Always, sir.”
“Good.”
It was time to send Tyson into action. Dressed like a MC member. Ready to destroy anything in his path… ready to destroy Layne.
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales
are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
First electronic edition November 2015
Copyright © 2015 by Ana W. Fawkes
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part of any form.
SAVAGE HEART (Layne & Shelby Book Two) (A Devil Call MC Book) Page 13
