MAX: The Sin Reapers MC

by April Lust

  “Last night. You had a knife to her throat, right before you got your ass handed to you. Probably because you were too fucking high to fight back.”

  “That was you?” His eyes narrowed. “What the fuck were you doing there?”

  “Taking a long walk in the moonlight,” I said. If he weren’t going after Lauren because of her connection to me, why the fuck would he go after her? “Taylor tell you to go after her, or were you working on your armed robbery badge?”

  “My what?”

  Man, I hated talking to high fuckers. They couldn’t keep up. “Did Taylor send you after her, or were you just being an asshole?” The drugs didn’t affect his hearing but I yelled anyway. My patience thinned.

  “No, man. I wasn’t…I mean he sent me. He just wanted to get her to cooperate, but I didn’t get to talk to her. You fucking showed up like Batman or some shit.” He rubbed his head again, scratching hard.

  “Cooperate about what?” I put my hands flat on the table, leaning over at him.

  “I don’t know. Said he was paying back a favor or something. I don’t know.”

  “Did you tell him yet that you fucked it up?”

  “No. I was going to try to talk to her again tonight. I can’t go back to him and tell him I fucked it up. I’m on thin ice with him, man.” I recognized the panic in his eyes. I’d seen the same look on half a dozen poor bastards that fell on the wrong side of Taylor’s approval.

  “What’s your message?”

  “To the chick? I was just supposed to tell her to back off the internship. That’s all. I don’t even know what the fuck that means.” He started coughing, clutching his chest as the racking cough consumed him.

  Her internship? What the fuck would Taylor care about it? I wanted to push him, but his eyes glassed over even more. I doubted the asshole even slept, probably stayed up all night smoking. “Get some ice on that eye, and get cleaned up.” I shoved off the table. “Taylor still hang at the clubhouse during the day?”

  “Yeah. He’s probably there.” Matthew hung his head. A defeated man sat there in the kitchen with me. Either it was to Taylor or it was to the drugs, but he was a man owned.

  “You go near that girl again and I’ll do more than break your nose. You got me? Consider your message delivered.”

  ***

  The last time I walked out of the clubhouse I did so with a half-broken rib and split knuckles. Mick didn’t take kindly to my decision to leave the club and his bullshit behind. He gave me the choice, ditch the kutte or ditch my fascination of not living in a jail cell for his ass. I guessed he didn’t think I’d take off the leather, because once I slid it off my shoulders, he had pounced on me. I gave as good as I got, but that didn’t matter. Men I called brothers stood watching our prez attack me. Only a handful of them had worked to break up the brawl and get me out of the club before I got real angry. Those were the few I still kept in contact with.

  Stale cigars and beer. The place still smelled the same. I walked across the empty lounge and headed to his office in the back. I could hear a few noises coming from the club bedrooms and grinned remembering the amount of times I’d taken one of the club girls back there.

  I found Mick easily enough at his desk. Outside the club, he didn’t do much else. Which was why he made the perfect president. While other members worked outside jobs, or worked the garage next door fixing up cars and doing repairs, he would be in his office crunching numbers, bringing in the money to make payday. I couldn’t lie, I made bank working for him. That was what bankrolled my garage. What money the feds didn’t find when they ransacked my fucking apartment trying to get dirt on Mick while I was in lockup.

  “I can smell your oily ass from here.” His smoker’s voice grated against my skin. As I appeared in the doorway he looked up from his computer. Watching him figure out how to use the damn thing had been comical, and I was sure if I had time to watch him using it now, it would be just as humorous. “Michael DiMarco. What brings your old ass in here?” He gave me a toothy smile. His beard had grayed since I last saw him, just at the tips, but enough to tell me the man was finally aging.

  He had seemed bigger than life when I first met him. Now when I looked at him, I saw the wrinkles the years had given him, and the leather quality of his skin from riding his bike out in the sun for too many years.

  “Just stoppin’ in to say hi to old friend.” I grinned, coming around his desk with my hand out.

  He looked at it, then shook his head. Pushing off his chair he wrapped his arms around me, slapping my back hard. He may have beaten my ass when I took off the leather, but the man had never given up on the idea of me “coming home.” “Hmph.” He snorted and gave me a shove. “Sit. Sit.” He waved at the chair in front of him.

  I took the seat, resting my foot on my knee. “How’s business?” I nodded to the computer.

  “Good. Would be better with you back on my side.” He didn’t beat around the bush when it came to the one thing he wanted from me that I couldn’t give to him.

  “You gonna guarantee every car I work on is legit?” He could lie to me, but he wouldn’t. I knew that. No matter how much we pissed each other off, we had at least that much respect for each other.

  He laughed and looked away. His usual answer. “How’s the garage?”

  “Doing good.”

  “Some of my guys are working for you, I hear. Instead of my garage.” It wasn’t an accusation but I could see he didn’t like the idea.

  “One or two.”

  He sat back in his chair and folded his hands on his rounded belly. The wedding ring on his hand shined in the lighting.

  “You got married?” I hadn’t heard that piece of news. Mick wasn’t the marrying kind, he always said. Plenty of club girls hung on him, so he didn’t need to make a choice.

  “Lucy got pregnant.” His voice was flat. “Said I had to make an honest woman of her if I wanted to keep fucking her, or see the kid.” I waited, there was more to the story. He wouldn’t be blackmailed into something like marriage. “I put up a fight, of course.” He shrugged. “Then she lost the baby. Miscarried three months in. Damn near killed her.” His voice dropped, and he looked at the wall behind me. I was seeing another side of Mick I’d never seen before.

  “So you married her anyway?”

  “She wouldn’t have me at first. Said I was only feeling sorry for her. Took me six months to get that woman down the fucking aisle.” He brought his eyes back to mine. “I’m telling you, Michael, if you find a woman worth giving up every piece of ass out there, you marry her, mark her, whatever you need to do to keep that woman chained to you.”

  For a moment, I was taken aback. This man sitting in front of me did not resemble the man running shit when I walked out. “A woman is why I’m here.” Better to get to the point, no need to start thinking about possibilities with Lauren that weren’t real.

  “Found yourself a woman?” He grinned.

  “Sort of. I came across a woman being held up last night, turned out to be Matthew.” I paused to take in his reaction. Nothing.

  “Hmm. Was the girl hurt?”

  “No. I walked up on them after he finished his discussion with her. She was fine. But what I don’t understand is why he would be bothering some college kid about her career choices.”

  His eyes shifted around the room and he adjusted his seat in the chair. “You know my opinion on talking about club business with non-members.”

  “How is this girl’s schooling club business?”

  Mick took a deep breath and let it out slow. “Fuck, Mike. I can’t go through this with you. If Matthew delivered the message and she listens to him, there’s no issue.”

  “This girl is under my protection, Mick.” I dropped my foot and leaned forward. “What is your business with her internship?”

  “I couldn’t give two shits about that girl and her school shit. It’s a favor.” He scratched behind his ear. “How close are you to this girl?”

  “Cl
ose enough to take out anyone who touches her.”

  His eyebrows rose and he let out a loud sigh. Whatever was going on, my being involved was complicating things for him. And Mick hated complications. “Look, just get her to stop pursuing that internship.”

  “Why would I do that? What the hell does this club have to gain if that girl doesn’t finish school? It’s architecture for shit’s sake, Mick. Why would your club or any other…” I stopped mid-sentence when realization hit me. “Fuck. Your strings are being pulled by someone else; there’s no favor.”

  His eyes went hard on me. Jackpot. “Just keep that girl away from that internship; she can take any other one but not that one. Got me?”

  “Or what? You’ll send another car to plow into her?”

  His brows furrowed. “What the fuck are you talking about? I told Matthew to talk to her.”

  I studied him for a minute. I knew when he was lying and it wasn’t then. “She’s not backing away from this. Not for you, or whatever puppeteer you’re working for now.” I pushed out of my chair, nearly knocking it over in my haste to get out of that place. For a sliver of a moment I thought he’d changed, but I should have known better.

  “I won’t make promises in regards to her safety, then.” His lips thinned, pulled tighter around his teeth.

  “I can. You come near her, you send any other club member near her, and I won’t stop at a few punches to the face. No matter who it is.”

  “You’d kill your own brother?” he snarled at me. “Oh, wait. I forgot you already abandoned them when you took off your kutte.”

  “Fuck that, Mick. You gave me no choice, and I won’t feel bad about it. I went to prison for you once, and it was enough.” The same old argument started to form on his lips but I cut him off. “Stay away from that girl.” With that I turned and high tailed it out of there before I did or said something that would set him completely off.

  The story didn’t end with him doing a favor for a friend. There was more, and I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach it was bigger than him or the club.

  Chapter Twelve

  Lauren

  The big goon Michael sent to take me to my office cleaning sat outside in his car. A rundown Pontiac that squealed when he turned right. For a mechanic, I would have thought he’d drive something a little better than that.

  Michael sent me a text an hour before my shift at the shelter ended telling me Tony would be taking me to the office. He’d pick me up to take me home. His home. Because I had managed to get myself under house arrest for being involved in a hit and run where I was the victim.

  I finished tying up the last trash bag and brought it to the front door when it flung open and Michael stormed in. He nearly knocked me down with the force of his entrance. He didn’t look happy, but he wasn’t pissed either. Whatever it was had nothing to do with me.

  He saw me then, his eyes wandered over my t-shirt and jeans before landing on the large garbage bag in my hand. The picture seemed to piss him off even more, his eyes narrow and his lips together hard.

  “What?” I took a step back and looked down at myself.

  “I don’t like this job.” His eyes swept the office of the small welding company.

  “Good thing it’s not yours, then.” I tried to smile, but his fierce gaze stopped me.

  “Are you done? Tony can finish for you if you need.” He jerked his head to the door.

  “That guy has been stuck babysitting me all day. I’m not asking him to do my work for me.” Whatever his problem was, I didn’t want it on my doorstep. “Besides, it may be menial work to you, but it’s decent pay.” I shifted the weight of the garbage bag and tried to step around him.

  He wouldn’t be dismissed so easily. Moving in front of me, he blocked my exit. His hands landed on my shoulder, stopping me from trying walk around him. He waited until I looked up at him before he continued. “I don’t like this job because it sends you to some shitty parts of town alone. Anyone could walk in here on you. You should have locked the door. And those guys out in the plant, can they get in here from a connecting door?”

  I tried not to roll my eyes, but the man could be impossible. “Michael, I’ve been cleaning this office for over a year. I know most of the guys out there; nothing is going to happen here.”

  His sigh could have parted my hair if I hadn’t had it pulled back in a ponytail. “You don’t understand. That car didn’t hit you by accident. That guy last night didn’t just want to mug you. They are connected by some very bad people.”

  “I’m not listening to this again. I talked with the police today. Called me between classes, asking me a bunch of questions about the car accident. He didn’t seem to be worried like you are. He just wanted to fill out some stupid accident report. I need to stop by to sign.”

  His eyes darkened. “What cop called you? Bixby?”

  “No, Baker, Maker, I don’t know, something like that. He said he’d meet me between classes tomorrow for me to sign the report. I thought that was a little odd, but he said he had to drop of something for his kid at the admissions office.”

  “Shit.” He let go of my shoulders and dragged a hand through his hair. “You aren’t going to school tomorrow. You aren’t going anywhere tomorrow.” He ripped the garbage bag from my hand and wrapped a hand around my bicep pulling me toward the door. “If you’re not done here, tell Tony.”

  “I’m done. I just need to toss that. Michael, let me go. What’s wrong?” The humidity of the summer air hit me as he pulled me out into the side parking lot. My babysitter stood in the same place I’d left him, leaning against his car with his arms crossed over his chest.

  “Do you need to lock up?” He stopped dragging me long enough to ask.

  “Yeah.”

  “Give me the keys.” He held out his hand.

  I wanted to argue, to pull away and tell him to shove off, but then I looked him in the eye. It wasn’t just anger lurking there, but worry. Michael wasn’t just being a jerk; he was actually concerned. I’d argue with him later.

  I yanked the keys from the pocket of my jeans and handed them to him. He promptly turned and tossed them to Tony.

  “Stay right here.” He released my arm and jogged back to the front door. I looked over at Tony, who seemed to be entertained at the sight of his boss dragging me around and playing babysitter.

  “I could have done that, Michael,” I grumbled when he handed me back the keys and motioned toward his truck.

  “You could do a lot of things. Doesn’t mean I’ll let you.” He walked ahead of me, around to the passenger’s side of the truck and yanked the door open.

  I wanted to say something, anything to wipe away the arrogant look on his face when he continued to stand by the door staring at me. Tony was watching, I could feel it, and if I pushed Michael too hard he’d probably just toss me in the truck like the Neanderthal he was behaving like.

  Turning toward Tony, I walked over to him, ignoring the glare Michael gave me. “Thanks for the ride today, and the company. I’m sure you had better things to do.” He pushed off the car and stood straight, looking over my head toward Michael. Sometimes poking the wolf couldn’t be resisted. I leaned up on my tip toes and planted a soft kiss to Tony’s bearded cheek. “Thanks again.” I turned on my heel and walked over to Michael, feeling his gaze burning me with each step. I didn’t say a word to him, or look at him as I climbed up into his truck.

  He grumbled something under his breath that I didn’t understand as the door slammed. I did hear Tony’s rumble of laughter as Michael walked around to the driver’s side. He remained silent as he fired up his truck and pulled out of the lot and headed down the street.

  “My apartment is the other way,” I pointed out as he made a left.

  “I know.”

  “You’re going the wrong way.”

  He let out an exaggerated sigh. “You’re staying at my place tonight.” He flipped on the radio, the country station filled the cabin, and he growled. �
�Fucking Tony playing with the radio again.” I caught his side glance as he pushed a few buttons and switched the station to something with more metal and less country. Michael always grumbled when I turned his radio to country when we were younger, and when he was hiding out with me in my room he’d tease me about my CD collection. But once in a while, his radio already had the country station playing when I jumped on his bike or in his car.

  I grinned and looked out the window. “I can’t move in with you, Michael.”

  “I said for tonight,” was his only reply.

  “Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on, or are you just going to keep acting like the big ape of the group?”