Slash: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Savage Hearts MC) (Outlaw MC Romance Collection Book 6)

by Vivian Gray

  “Hey,” I say with a lopsided grin, “that’s your own fault.”

  “It was worth it. I’m just saying, if I could help, I would help. I’m doing what I can to help. But you… you can’t go getting into business with Marcelo. I’m telling you, it’s a mistake.”

  “Well, mistake or not, I have to do something, Slash.”

  After dinner, we ride back to my place, where he drops me off. His mom, Nancy, is still inside with mine, who is asleep when I walk in the door. Nancy gives me a “Shh” finger to silence me when I walk in the door. We step out to the back porch to talk.

  “How was she tonight?” I ask, trying to sound as casual as possible.

  “She was in great spirits,” Nancy tells me, “but it’s clear she’s getting weaker.”

  “I know.” I bite my lip to keep from breaking down in front of her.

  Nancy looks like she has something to say, but she hesitates. “Listen,” she finally says to me, “it’s none of my business, but I have to know – what’s going on between you and Thomas?”

  “Thomas?” I ask. “Oh, Slash?” I blush a little bit. “We’re… friends.”

  “Maybe more?”

  “Maybe more.”

  “That… that surprises me, Erin,” she says, her voice heavy with sadness. “Your mother is a wonderful woman. You seem like a lovely girl. And she is so happy to see you going out with someone. But I find it hard to believe you’ve thrown in your lot with my son. Forget about the gang he’s in and the life he leads – he can be a very bad influence on people, which is why I had to throw him out in the first place.”

  “Hang on,” I say, “what ‘gang’? Slash isn’t in a gang.”

  “He might as well be,” she continues. “Whatever it’s called – his ‘club’. They’re as up to no good as any of the other gangs around here. It’s really quite vile. I hope he’s not luring you into his life of crime.”

  “Excuse me?” I demand, getting testy. “Slash isn’t luring me into anything. I’m not some dog who needs to be led by the leash, Nancy. I’m—”

  “A good girl,” Nancy says, adjusting the strap of her bag over her shoulder and getting ready to go. “You seem like it. That’s why I don’t want to see Thomas ruin that for you. Beware, Erin. Watch out for yourself, or you’ll suddenly find that you’re as culpable in these things as he is. I’ve seen it before. I know how this story ends.”

  “I – I –” I don’t know what to say. What did she mean, calling Slash a criminal? Surely that couldn’t be true. Before I have a chance to ask her, though, she’s already through the door and out on the driveway. I want to run after her – ask her to tell me what exactly she knows about Slash’s “life of crime”... but she’s already gone.

  I feel sick to my stomach. I turn to go into the house, but I don’t make it. I heave my guts out into the bushes instead. Then, very queasy, I head back into the house. I’m going to have to sleep this off.

  Chapter Twelve

  Slash

  I’ve been going mad with desire. It seems like every time I want to see Erin, something conspires to keep us apart – her mom, her job, her doing this private-eye work for me on Marcelo. There’s always some reason why I can’t be alone with her and do the things I want to do to her. I like her – I truly do – but dammit, I want more than just a platonic relationship.

  I want to fuck her again, and again, and again. And I’m going to do whatever I can to get to her.

  In the meantime, I do my job, same as Jerome always says. And I will do my job as best I can. I keep the stuff Erin told me about the pills under my hat though. The truth, what I didn’t – and couldn’t – tell Erin, was that pills were our game. The Savage Hearts had the market nearly cornered on street pills, and there was no way in hell we were going to let some pansy-ass turncoat like Marcelo and his gang of idiots hone in on our territory. There might be room enough in this town for two MCs, but there wasn’t nearly enough room for both if we were going after the same market.

  All through the day, all I can think about is Erin. The scent of her. That alabaster skin, that fiery red hair, those cute little freckles all over her face, those piercing green eyes… everything about her attracts me to her. I find myself getting excited and even a little aroused thinking about her and all the things I’m going to do to her when I get her alone.

  Tonight, I’m out for a ride, having been relieved of scout duty for once. I think about stopping in on Erin at the Dark Moon again, but I realize I don’t know her schedule and don’t want to risk going into a place where I may not be welcome, at least in my current getup. So, I drive around, trying to clear my head, feeling the wind in my face and the smell of exhaust in my nostrils. It feels great, being out here, without having a mission. I never really get to do that anymore.

  I’m still pissed about Marcelo though. I’m especially concerned because it seems like Erin is dead-set on going into business with that scumbag. The last thing I want her to do is get caught up in what’s going down between us and Marcelo’s crew. I’ve been trying to shelter her from the darker side of what I do.

  I know I’ll have to come clean with her eventually, but at this moment, I’m not looking forward to doing it. I just want to wait until the right time. Do I know when that right time will be? Of course I don’t. That would make things too easy. But I’ll know it when it comes, I figure. Besides, I can keep my personal life separate from my business life, at least for the time being.

  A buzz at my side surprises me. It’s my phone. I pull off to the side of the road and take the phone out of my side pocket. I take a look at the caller ID – it’s Erin. I’m a little surprised. Maybe she’s had a change of heart about selling pills to Marcelo. I can’t believe she’d even consider doing that.

  Or maybe she’s gotten new information on him, something we hadn’t known before. If it turns out that she’s got some good info, I’ll bet I can convince Jerome to sit down with her and debrief her – right before I do the same thing. Or maybe she’s just calling for a booty call. Which would be totally all right by me.

  I press the big green button flashing on the phone and swipe it up. “Hello?” I say, speaking into the receiver. “This is Slash.”

  “Slash,” Erin says, breathless on the other line, “it’s Erin. We need to talk.” Her voice sounds serious and disappointed. I’m a little concerned.

  “Sure. You want to meet somewhere? I’m off duty tonight, and—”

  She sighs heavily into the phone. “Fine,” she replies, and I note a strong strain of irritation in her voice. “Fine, we can – we can meet up. I owe you that much. Can you come by my place? Like, within the next hour or so?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I can be there in like fifteen minutes. Erin, is everything okay?”

  “We’ll talk when you get here.”

  Then, without warning, she hangs up the phone. The line goes dead, and I’m left there standing on my bike like an idiot, wondering what in the blue hell just happened. This spells an awful lot of trouble for me. I could tell from her voice that she was pissed about something, but what? Had I done something to upset her? Had something happened between dinner last night and now? What could have possibly—

  Mom.

  “Son of a bitch,” I mutter to myself as I kick off on my bike. It had to be. It was the only way. My mom must have said something negative about me to Erin, and now Erin was going to come at me over it.

  All the way over to Erin’s house, I wonder what I am going to say to her. I have to keep my cool. I have to be calm and collected – and make sure my temper doesn’t rise. Whatever my mom has said to Erin, it isn’t Erin’s fault. Besides, there’s not a lot my mom knows about what I do, so I could probably just pass it off as my mom being crazy, or the fact that we didn’t have the best of relationships.

  I get to Erin’s house in record time, and I go up to knock on the door. But Erin is there waiting for me on the front porch, and she stands on the front steps as I approach, blocking my way i
nside.

  “Hey,” I say, as suave as I can, “how’s it goin’, babe?”

  “Don’t you ‘how’s it goin’ me, Slash. You’ve got a hell of a lot of explaining to do.”

  “I do?” I already feel my anger rise. In actuality, I don’t have a goddamn thing to explain. At all. I live my life the way I live it, the end. She has no claim over me, no right to judge how I live my life. But I don’t say any of this. I want to keep my cool. I actually, for whatever reason, care about this girl. I have feelings for her.

  So instead, I just say, “I do?” and am done.

  “Yes, you do,” she snarls out. “I don’t know what I expected. I should have known better. Or maybe I should have asked.”

  “Asked what?”

  “What you do for a living. It never occurred to me to ask how it is you just so happened to have a safe filled with ten thousand dollars. I didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth. But then I had a little chat with your mother…”

  “Oh, is that what brought this on. Babe, listen, my mom’s crazy. She’s—”

  “No, she isn’t crazy, Slash!” Erin practically explodes on me. “She’s not crazy at all. She’s perfectly sane and perfectly pleasant. She’s been helping me out so damn much with my mom. Honest to God, she’s been a godsend. I don’t know what I’d be doing right now if I didn’t have her helping my mom and me. And for that…” She heaves a gigantic sigh, as if she’s letting some of her anger dissipate with her breath. “... for that, I have to say, thank you. It’s because of you that Nancy is in my life, and it’s because of you that I’m able to have even the smallest semblance of a life outside of my mom and work. For that, I’m forever in your debt.”

  “You’re not,” I tell her. “Honestly. I’m just happy to help. But tell me – what did she say to you that made you so angry?”

  “I’m… I’m not angry with you, per se,” she says sadly. “If I’m angry with anybody, I’m really angry with myself.”

  “Yourself?” I ask, confused. “Why?”

  “Because I started letting myself fall for you despite not knowing anything about you,” she replies, and I note her watering eyes.

  “But you know me,” I reassure her. “You get me, better than any woman I’ve ever known. I’m telling you, Erin, this is—”

  “How do you make your money, Slash?”

  “What?”

  “How do you make your money?” she asks again. “How is it that you can have that much money – in cash – on you at a given time?”

  “Hey, it took me a long time to squirrel away that much. I’ve been saving up. That’s all that was.”

  She shakes her head. “No,” she insists, “come on, Slash. Be straight with me. Tell me the truth. How do you make your money? Are you… are you doing… illegal stuff?”

  “Seems to me we’re both into illegal stuff. Or are you not going to bring a script to Marcelo for pain meds?”

  “I’m – I wasn’t –” she stammers. “That’s not the point. Slash, I’m in dire straits here. You aren’t. You are smart. You could do a million different things.”

  “What ‘things’?” I demand, my voice rising. “What exactly is it that you think I could do? Be a nurse like my mom? That takes a degree. Deliver pizzas? Be a bag boy at the grocery store? C’mon, Erin, does that really sound like it would fit a guy like me?”

  “So, I’ll ask again then,” she says, tears now streaming down her face. “What is it that you do?”

  “I—” I want to tell her everything, but I can’t. If I bring this girl into the fold, she’ll be just as culpable as me – should any shit go down with Marcelo. And besides, if I spill my guts, Jerome will gut me like a fattened pig for blabbing.

  So instead, I just say, “I’m into some shit, okay? I’m not going to lie to you. I’m into some shit that you shouldn’t be. But that’s why you shouldn’t make this deal with Marcelo. I was trying to get some dirt on him to help get him out of the leadership of the Tattooed Angels.”

  “Why?” she demands. “Why does Marcelo matter so damn much to you?”

  “Because!” I practically shout at her. “Because… well, because he’s one of ours. He used to be with the Savage Hearts.”

  “That’s… that’s all?” she whimpers.

  “That’s enough!” I say violently. Then, modulating my tone a bit, I continue, “Look, I don’t expect you to understand. But Marcelo dicked us over. He left us when he was pretty high up in the organization, which means he left with some of our secrets. By getting info on Marcelo, I’m trying to prevent an all-out war between our MCs.”

  “A ‘war’?” Erin asks and rolls her eyes. “Are you fucking kidding me with this shit, Slash? A ‘war’? Seriously? Over something as stupid as he doesn’t want to be your friend anymore?”

  “That’s not it,” I say, doing my best to contain the anger she’s starting to make me feel. “You don’t just get to leave an MC, not the way that Marcelo did, and especially not by—” I stop myself, afraid I’m about to say something I’ll regret later.

  “Not by what, Slash?” she demands. “Come on, don’t stop now. What are you so afraid of? What is it that Marcelo’s done that’s so bad, besides the fact that he doesn’t want to play with your gang of thugs anymore, and he’s found a new gang of thugs?”

  “How do you not see how that’s a problem?” I roar out.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” she spits out through gritted teeth, “maybe because I’m a rational fucking adult? If somebody doesn’t want to be my friend, you know what I do? I stop being their friend. It’s as simple as that.”

  “It’s not that simple!” I pound my right fist into my left hand angrily. “It’s never that simple, Erin! This stuff is hard. It’s complex. It is often life and death. And what it means is that Marcelo is a marked man. If he ever even so much as steps foot in Savage Heart territory again, he’ll be killed on the spot. And I’ve got some evidence that that’s exactly what he’s doing.”

  “So, what? You’re going to kill him? That’s what you are, Slash? A murderer?”

  “No – no,” I say, uncertain because, quite frankly, that’s exactly what I plan to do to him if I find out he’s been hocking his pills and drugs on our turf. “No, it’s not like that at all.”

  “Then what is it like Slash? Paint me a picture. What is it exactly that you’ll do with this guy? Beat him up? Lock him away? Because last I checked, those are pretty serious crimes, too.”

  “Erin, you’re not listening to me,” I try to say, but she shakes her head; she’s having none of it. “This doesn’t affect us at all.”

  “I’m listening all too well, Slash. I know what you’re about now. I get it. And I’m done. I will always be grateful and thankful for everything you’ve done for me and my mom. But there is no ‘us’. I can’t get romantically involved with someone who thinks murder or assault is somehow a viable option for a guy deciding he wants to play with the other boys in town. That’s ridiculous.

  Now, I’m happy to keep using Nancy, and I’m happy to pay her. I’ll find a way, somehow, to get her the money she deserves. But as for you and me… I’m sorry. It just can’t happen.”

  I glare at her. I can’t believe she’s being like this. What did I do to deserve this? I’ve done nothing but support her and be there for her – I even spoke with my fucking mother for her.

  “Why not?” I ask as she turns to go inside her house. “Why can’t there be an ‘us’, Erin?”

  “Because,” she says, sniffling a little bit, “if anything ever happened to you, I’d be devastated.”

  “Nothing’s going to happen to me!” I exclaim. “Erin, I—”

  “Don’t, Slash.” She holds up a hand. “Just don’t. This isn’t about you. It’s about me, about my life. And there’s just no room for you in it. I’m… I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry, too,” I murmur.

  She doesn’t turn around as she walks away into the house and out of my life, and I can�
��t help but think it’s for good.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Erin

  It’s been a harrowing few days. First, I find out my boyfriend – or the guy I’m quickly falling for – is a criminal. Then, I break up with him in maybe the most confrontational way ever. No wonder I’m feeling queasy.

  I sit down on the couch to steady myself, wondering what in God’s name I’ve been thinking. How could I have been so blind? Of course Slash was a criminal! What else would he be? How else would he have had that much money just lying around? He probably stole it or – worse – killed somebody for it. I just can’t take the chance that he’s that kind of criminal.

  But if he’s a criminal… what am I? I’ve been mulling over Marcelo’s offer in my head for the last couple of days. He said I could get upwards of fifty dollars a pill, depending on what the pills are. Some of the rare ones would go for even higher. He offered me three grand on the spot for a month’s worth of the souped-up painkillers my mom’s on. If I could get even half that for just a handful of pills, my debts could go away pretty quickly.