Into the Blood (Broken Outlaw Series Book 2)

by BT Urruela

  “What can I get ya, darlin’? Same thing?” Jimmy asks.

  “Yeah, and two shots of Cuervo, Jimmy.” He looks surprised as he readies the shot glasses.

  “Cuervo? I see it’s gonna be one of them nights, huh?” He laughs and fills them. He then nods down the bar to an attractive man sitting by himself and cradling a beer. I look to him, observe, and then look back at Jimmy.

  “Guy came in here askin’ bout ya when he first sat down. Says he’s an old friend. Now, I may not know ya as well as I think I do, but since when do ya have old friends. Or friends of any kind for that matter? You’re about as friendly as a rattlesnake on spin cycle.” He lets out a roar of laughter as only he can. Anyone else makes a noise like that in here and everyone in the damn bar will be staring, but not Jimmy. We’ve all heard that obnoxious laugh of his more times than can be counted.

  “No shit?” I analyze the stranger at the bar again. He looks normal enough. Nothing that would make me think he’s with Javi’s crew, but he doesn’t look like military either.

  “Thanks, Jimmy. Appreciate it.”

  “Need me to get rid of him?” he asks.

  “No, no, you’re good. I think I remember him,” I lie.

  I’ve been trying to work up the courage to talk to her since they sat down, but I can’t for the life of me think of something that would sound halfway normal. I’ve thought about telling her I was in the Army too, but I don’t know enough about her military past to pull that one off. I could tell her I was stationed at Fort Lewis with her, but then what if she starts asking questions? I don’t know shit about the base. I also wasn’t expecting her to be with someone. Hell, I’ve already waited twenty-some-odd years to talk to her. One night longer or fifty isn’t going to make much of a difference.

  Finishing up the last of my beer and ready to call it quits for the night, I no longer have a choice. I feel them both approach on my left, and I pretend to not see them standing there. Uncomfortable, I eventually look and see Gabi eyeing me inquisitively. The man she’s with stands behind her with his arms crossed and eyes flitting around the room, studying it.

  “So, Jimmy here says you were looking for me. Says you know me.” She leans in a little, her eyes saying don’t-fuck-with-me. “But I don’t know who the fuck you are and that’s a problem.”

  I don’t say anything for a moment. I wasn’t really prepared for this, though I’ve had weeks to get ready. I want to give her the truth, I really do, but every bit of hesitation in the world has the truth securely buried.

  “I was Army. And we have a mutual friend. I mentioned stopping up here to him and he suggested linking up with you. Said you might have the good stuff,” I rattle off, barely registering what’s coming out.

  “No, I used to have the good stuff.” She turns back to the guy with her and chuckles, but it seems caused more by nerves than anything else. “But not anymore. Army, huh?” Her eyes trail down my body, sizing me up. “You don’t look like a military guy.”

  “I’ve been out for a while. If I don’t look like former military that means I’m doing something right. I’m trying to forget that life,” I say with a laugh. She scoffs and shakes her head.

  “Tell me about it. And we know some of the same people?” she asks.

  “Yeah…well, one person at least. Rock Callahan. We went to basic together. My name’s Chase. Chase McGregor.” The lie comes off my tongue as fluid as if it were the truth, and I’m silently impressed with myself. Her mouth forms a wide O. She looks back at the guy with her and then to me again. He now has the same look on his face. He takes a step forward, nudging Gabi to the side.

  “Wait a second. Irish? You’re Irish fucking McGregor?”

  Fuck me. “That’s me. I guess my reputation precedes me?”

  “Shit, I guess so. Rock and I are boys. I did two tours with that motherfucker.” He points to Gabi and then back at himself. “We both did. She did another one with him after that.” He’s got a shit-eating grin on his face now, which is vastly different than the smoldering glare he came at me with before. “Rock used to always talk about this guy Irish from basic training who used to own that shit. Said the guy was a fucking wrecking ball. I always thought you’d be bigger.” He laughs and I do the same, trying whatever I can to keep up with the ruse.

  “I’m Shane, by the way.” He puts out his hand, and I shake it. His shake is firm, almost to the point of pain. It’s one of those tough guy handshakes. I don’t mind though. For all I know he’s with Gabi and thinks I might be trying to encroach. The disgusting irony behind that thought is jarring.

  “And I’m Gabi, though I take it you already knew that. Fuck Rock for putting my name out there like that. Fucking asshole. He wants to bitch at me about selling H and then sends me business?” She laughs, shaking her head from side to side. “Fucking redneck Asians. They can’t be trusted.”

  “Oh shit, I wasn’t looking for heroin,” I say. “Just some greenery to get me by while I’m up here for work.”

  “Greenery? You mean smoke? You said the good stuff, I was thinking you meant the harder shit,” she says, pulling back a stool and taking a seat. Shane stands just behind her with his hands on her shoulders.

  “I got a whole bunch back at Gabi’s place. I can probably hook you up,” Shane says and Gabi shoots a glare back at him.

  “Inviting strangers over to my place, dickhead?”

  “He went to basic with Rock! Our Rock,” Shane argues.

  “Hey, it’s all good. I can look elsewhere. Just thought I’d ask,” I say, motioning the bartender to bring my tab. I set two twenties on the bar for him.

  “No, it’s all good. Just giving you shit. Rock is a good friend of ours,” she says and turns back to Shane again. “We should probably get out of here before Javi and the rest of his crew get here anyway. I’ve had enough to drink.” She throws some cash on the bar too as the barkeep collects mine and she lifts herself from the stool.

  “Jimmy, settle me out,” she says.

  “You got it, darlin’,” he responds before his eyes dart to the opening bar doors, concern growing on his face. My focus shifts right along with his. “Fuck me,” he mumbles.

  She looks over as a group of guys who look like nothing but trouble come walking in. Shane turns, keeping Gabi behind him as the new arrivals beeline toward us.

  “Are you really that fucking stupid, Gabi? I mean, really?” the obvious leader of the group asks, his guys behind him looking like they’re ready to fuck some shit up. The handful of guys who were playing pool before now make their way over.

  “I was just grabbing a drink, Javi. We’re leaving now.” She collects up her change and leaves a five on the bar.

  “Hmmmm.” He puts his hand to the dark scruff taking up his chin, scratches, and studies Gabi. “Funny that you’re in my fucking bar, spending my fucking money. Does that make sense to you?”

  Jimmy clears his throat, leaning over the bar a bit. “It’s actually my bar, Javi.” He flashes a slanted smile and Javi shoots him a death stare without a word. Jimmy puts both hands up and backs away slowly. “But hey, man, mi casa, su casa. Ya know what I mean?”

  Javi looks back to Gabi and smirks. “So?”

  “Javi, this is the only decent place in town. You know that. And I only had a few.” She stands her ground, but there’s new nervousness taking up her voice. Javi takes two steps forward, face to face with Gabi, and nudging Shane out of the way in the process.

  “Do you think I’m fucking joking here? You think this is a fucking game? You’ve got three more weeks. Three fucking weeks to get me my money.” He jabs a finger in her face. “You better save every fucking dime you got.” Shane’s face contorts in noticeable anger, the veins in his neck throbbing.

  “Hey, we’re fucking leaving, man. Just get the fuck out of our way,” Shane says, putting Gabi behind him again. He takes a step forward, but Javi doesn’t move.

  “And who the fuck are you, cowboy? Here to save the day?” Javi looks
back at his guys and then again to Shane with a wide smile on his face. “I’ll tell you what, hero. If I don’t see my money, I’ll skin you alive too. Sound good?” he asks as one of his men pulls out a bowie knife and traces its sharp blade with his thumb.

  Shane looks like he’s about to explode, but Gabi grabs his arm and pulls.

  “Shane, please, let’s just go,” she pleads, tugging a few more times for good measure. He reluctantly follows, while Javi and his men remain as still as they’ve been the entire time.

  “Yeah, little Shane, listen to your whore,” Javi calls out from the side of his mouth. “Go home. Don’t go getting yourself into trouble. She’s in enough of it for the both of you.” He flashes a wicked smile, exposing a flashy yellow gold grill. Shane looks back once more before letting Gabi guide him out the door. I follow suit, looking Javi dead in the eyes as I pass and he sneers at me, an evil in his eyes I haven’t seen since prison. It seems she’s in more trouble than Irish let on… or maybe more than he even knew.

  There’s something oddly familiar about this Chase guy. Something settling. As he leans back into the couch handling a beer, I lick the end of a joint and roll it together. Shane has a beer in his hand as well and his other hand on my leg as it so often goes when he’s had a few too many. The poor man. He loves me. He loves every bit of me, flaws and all. And if my bleeding heart could feel a thing, I’d love him right back. I want to. I just can’t. I haven’t been with a man in three years… and the last time wasn’t by choice. I just can’t even think about it.

  But in a perfect world, he is my perfect counterpart.

  “So, what’s up with that guy? If you don’t mind me asking,” Chase asks, his eyes glued on the joint like a hungry dog as I light it. I look over, my eyes meeting Shane’s, and I shake my head.

  “Ah, he’s just a fucking cockroach,” I mutter, smoke passing between my lips. I hand Shane the joint and focus my attention back onto our visitor. “So, you see much of Rock these days? What’s he been up to?”

  “A little bit here and there…” His voice trails as he takes the joint from Shane and hits it. “It’s been awhile though.”

  “He’s down there in Vegas still, isn’t he?” I ask.

  “I’m not too sure, actually. I only spoke with him briefly the other day. We didn’t really have a lot of time to catch up,” our guest says, holding on to the J entirely too long.

  “Hey, stop Bogarting. Puff, puff, pass.” I stand, retrieving the joint from Chase’s hand and flashing him a smile before plopping back down on the couch.

  “Yeah, babe, Rock’s still in Vegas busting kneecaps and working the young boys down at The Male Box,” Shane says as I straddle my legs over his, lying back into the pillows. He takes off my shoes and rubs his hands firmly against my feet.

  “Shit, I haven’t seen him in a minute,” Shane continues, grabbing a bottle of lotion from the coffee table. “He’s a damn good dude.”

  “You said he served with you guys?” he asks.

  “Yeah, with Gabriela in Afghanistan twice,” Shane answers for me as I’m currently being put to fucking sleep. God, his hands are gifts from God. And the boy sure knows how to use them. “I was with them on the first one to Afghanistan, and a short stint to Iraq before that,” he continues.

  “You still in?” Chase asks.

  “Nah, I got out after Afghanistan,” Shane says, my eyes opening again and following the changes in his facial expressions. I know where his mind is going. That was a tough tour for all of us, we lost a whole lot of guys in the Korengal Valley, but for Shane, it was something else, something else entirely. His best friend Lucas stepped on a landmine right in front of him. Not ten feet away. I was lucky enough to have stayed back on base that mission, but I heard the horror story from our squad afterward.

  They said he was picking pieces of Lucas off his uniform for thirty minutes after it happened, just dazed and staring off into the nothing.

  He hasn’t been the same since.

  “I just had enough,” Shane continues, interrupting my straying thoughts. “Ended up in Seattle working the fishing docks. It’s incredible, let me tell ya,” Shane jokes. “What about you? When did you get out?”

  “I transitioned about a year and a half ago. Started my own carpentry business. I race a little bit here and there too,” Chase says, dabbing the roach out in the ashtray on the coffee table and then melting back into the loveseat.

  “Ever deploy?” Shane asks, his hands now working their way up my calves. I close my eyes again and it’s a good thing, because they’re currently rolling in the back of my head.

  “Yeah, once to Iraq. Twice to Afghanistan. Got shot in the ass on my last deployment and separated soon after. Same as you, I just got sick of the grind. When did you get out, Gabi? Or is it Gabriela? I’ve heard both now,” Chase asks and my head jerks up, my gaze narrowing on him.

  “Gabi,” I say sternly, and then grin, lying back into the pillow.

  “Yeah, I’m the only one that gets to call her Gabriela. And it took me years to get that privilege,” Shane says, tickling my side. I scrunch in, my abs constricting, and an onslaught of giggle fits push their way out.

  “Stop it!” I laugh, swatting at his hand. “I never gave you permission, cum stain.”

  “Cum stain? My filthy mouthed little infantrywoman busting out the cum stain. I haven’t heard that one from you in a while, my dear,” Shane says, a broad smile on his face. “And you didn’t need to give me permission. You’ll always be my little Gabriela,” Shane continues, blocking his nuts from the fist he knows is sure to come. Lucky for him my entire body is in an all-out buzz, and moving right now seems highly unlikely.

  Shane looks at Chase, who is sprawled out on the loveseat himself, and says, “So I started calling her Gabriela because it bothered her so much and, well, it never quite stopped bothering her… so I never quite stopped using it.” He chuckles. “Now, it’s just weird to even hear someone call her Gabi, let alone say it.”

  “So, what are you doing down here?” Chase asks and instantly Shane looks down at me.

  “I’m just visiting Gabi and I do some work up in Cody here and there. Just got back in town from a job tonight actually,” he says before nodding to me. “I think she missed me.”

  “Fat chance,” I say, though I certainly did. I always do when he’s gone.

  Shane looks back to Chase, whose eyes have taken on a comical shade of red. “I try and visit her every chance I get.”

  Liar.

  It was six months since I saw him last before I rang him a couple weeks ago, begging him for help. He was straddling his Harley and on the road in the time it took me to hang up. He’s always been like that with me and it’s something I’ll always appreciate about him. He is the kindest man I’ve ever met… and he’s all I have.

  “Anyway, man,” Shane says, removing my legs from his and standing. I pout in protest. “I’m tired as shit, and Gabriela here is looking like she’s straight outta Chinatown.” He turns to Chase and points. “You don’t look so good yourself.”

  “Feel free to sleep on the couch if you want. Or don’t. Up to you,” I say, standing as well and feeling Shane’s hands meet my waist.

  “That would be really great. I’m tired as fuck. I appreciate it,” Chase says, as I retrieve a pillow and blanket from a hall closet and toss them on the couch.

  “Brunch tomorrow?” I suggest, more statement than question, and without waiting for a response I flip the light switch and follow Shane down the hall. I hear a mumbled response, but can’t make it out. At this point, I’m too damn tired to care. I need to feel the warmth of this man’s arms. I need to feel safe, or as safe as I’m able to feel, as I fight to get to sleep.

  Shane and I had an interesting dynamic, even as far back as basic. I was one of two females in the entire damn thing. I aspired to be the first ever to go Special Forces, which was a recipe for making enemies. And I made a lot of them. Everyone did their best to knock me off course,
everyone except Shane. They did everything in their power to ensure I wouldn’t make the cut, but not him. He stood by me the whole way, talked me down from the ledge when I needed it, and backed me up when the snide remarks and name calling turned to full on hazing. I proved them all wrong though, and I worked my ass off to do it, but I don’t know if I could’ve done it without Shane.

  He was my battle buddy, and more than that, he was my cheerleader. Always fighting for me. Always lifting me up when I wanted to quit. What started as a great friendship eventually led to something more… feelings for him that swept in out of nowhere and completely overwhelmed me. In the height of our time spent in combat during our deployment to Iraq, we found ourselves yearning for more. Sometimes it was physical, but most of the time, he would just sneak into my bunk and cuddle with me on my cot until I drifted to sleep, and then he’d sneak back out before anyone could spot us. We found comfort in each other during a time when death was always looming, and in that, he did what many before him could not do.

  He tore down my walls.

  Oftentimes when I’m cradled in his arms like this, with his rough thumb trailing my body from thigh to neck and back, I’m brought back to those desperate days in the desert when his touch was the only thing that helped me to forget.

  “Wait…” Paige giggles, an early morning rasp in her voice that makes my fucking dick buzz. “Why did you tell her you were Chase, baby?” I shake my head, looking out on the street from the front porch.

  “Babe, how the fuck do you go up to someone like ‘hey, long lost brother here. How ya been, sis?’…I panicked. The bartender mentioned I was asking about her and I was pretty much shit out of luck after that.”

  “Oh, Xander.” She giggles again and it makes me ache to be there with her, waking up in bed with my Baileys and coffee, holding her until morning turns to midday. It would be just what I need right now. “I miss you so much,” she says as if she were reading my thoughts.

  “God, I miss you too. Has it really only been four days? It’s felt like forever.”