Kings of Asphalt

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Kings of Asphalt Page 12

by Alexx Andria


  Jax barked a mocking laugh. “Look at you, all domesticated all of a sudden. Bent can only pin a murder charge on us if there’s evidence tying us to the crime. So the easy answer is…don’t leave any fucking evidence.”

  Hunter’s mouth seamed in frustration before he said, “Look, hear me out. I have a plan that might just get us the money and off the hook for Dimas. You want to hear it or do you want to go fuck yourself for a little vengeance? We’ve come too far to play it stupid at the final moment. Just hear me out, okay?”

  Jax didn’t want to listen; he wanted blood. But as he stood there, muscles flexed and ready to do some damage, Zoe’s smiling face in his mind cooled his temper and he found himself assenting to Hunter’s question with a reluctant nod. “Out with it, then,” he growled. “But if your plan doesn’t work, I’m going back to my original plan and I’m going to fucking kill Dimas with my bare hands.”

  “Fair enough. If my plan doesn’t work, I’ll be right there with you. We aren’t blood, but you’re my brother and I would do anything for you, man. I just don’t want to go to jail if we don’t have to.”

  A smile found Jax’s mouth. Amen, brother.

  #

  They found the squalid little shack Dimas was holed up in with little trouble once they knew where to look. Hunter wasted no time with knocking and simply kicked in the flimsy door, busting the doorjamb sending splinters of wood flying. Dimas, startled by the sudden shock, scrambled for the gun but he’d fucked up and it wasn’t within grabbing distance. Jax grabbed Dimas’ gun first and then the sorry shithead had two guns pointed at him, one of those being his own.

  “Heard you’ve hit a stretch of bad luck,” Hunter said coldly, his heart freezing over so he didn’t feel the pain of his friend’s betrayal. “Word of advice, friend…if you’re gonna skip town after stabbing your buddies in the back, best to plan an airtight getaway or else you’re gonna get fucked. Like right this minute.”

  Dimas held his hands up, visibly swallowing, his dark hair oily and lank as if he hadn’t seen a shower in a week, and had the balls to try and convince them that he hadn’t tried to royally screw them. “Guys, you’ve got the wrong idea…I was coming back for you. I was! There was too much heat within the club. If they knew about this job…they’d skin you for it. You know that! I was just taking off the pressure, you know?”

  “And Zoe? What exactly was that for?” Jax queried softly. When Jax was really dangerous, he got quiet — real quiet. Judging by Jax’s tone…Dimas was a walking dead man but Hunter knew that already.

  “C’mon man, you’re gonna let a snooty bitch like her come between us? She was bad news! She was gonna bring us all down! I did you a solid by pushing her off that catwalk. Loose the baggage, you know?”

  Jax smiled thinly. “C’mon Dimas, you know us better than that. No one messes with what’s ours…especially our women.”

  “I did it because I care about you, man,” Dimas pleaded, starting to sweat. “Don’t you see how that chick is changing you? Somehow she took your balls and tucked them into her little purse. We can’t have that happen to our leaders, you know? I had to make a bold move for the club and for my oldest friends.”

  “I’m not you’re friend,” Jax told Dimas with a flicked glance at Hunter for confirmation. “And he ain’t either.”

  “We’ve got history,” Dimas reminded him, almost desperately. “Doesn’t that mean nothing?”

  “Before you screwed us…it meant everything. Now you’re just like anyone else who tried to bury the knife — dead to us,” Hunter said, removing the safety. “Where’s the money, Dimas?”

  “Can’t we talk this over? You gotta understand…the money…it did weird things to my head. I wasn’t thinking straight. I’m actually glad you’re here to take it off my hands. It’s evil, man!”

  Jax laughed at the absurdity. “The only thing evil in this room is the piece of shit in front of me. Now, where’s the fucking money?”

  Caught, with nowhere to go, Dimas pointed to the bedroom. Jax left Hunter with Dimas and moments later returned with a giant black duffel. “How much you spend?” Jax asked. “Every dime not accounted for will be taken out on your miserable hide.”

  “All but $100.” Dimas promised bitterly. “I’ve been stuck in this fucking room since that night.”

  “A hundred bucks sounds more than you deserve but since it’ll be a while before you taste anything but prison food…I’ll let you have that one,” Jax said, his gaze hardening as he shouldered the bag. He removed the safety from his gun and leveled it at Dimas’ heart. Dimas panicked and thrust his hands out, begging and pleading for his life like a bitch and Hunter held his breath, waiting to see if Jax was going to follow through with the plan. Either way, Hunter was prepared to back him but he was hoping and praying that some thread of self-preservation won out over the thirst for vengeance. The seconds ticked by until Jax slowly lowered his gun and Dimas sagged against the dirty sofa.

  “Thank you, man,” Dimas said, letting out a shaky breath. “For a second I really thought you were going to kill me.”

  “You’re not worth prison time,” Jax bit out, clearly disappointed he didn’t plug Dimas full of holes. He looked to Hunter. “You tell him how it is. I don’t trust myself not to blow his lying face off.”

  “My pleasure,” Hunter said as Dimas’ gaze went from one to the other in confusion. “Here’s how this is going down. We’re going to walk out of here with the money. You’re going to forget there ever was money. In about ten minutes, cops are going to show up and you’re going to turn yourself in for the murders of William Simms and Juanita Sanchez and then you’re gonna spend the rest of your miserable fucking life taking it up the ass by a big bubba in prison. Got it?”

  Confusion cleared from Dimas’ expression and some semblance of outrage returned as he balked. “Fuck that! You can’t make me do that and besides there’s no fucking proof I killed Simms and his bitch.”

  “True. Your confession hinges on your conviction but here’s the thing…you bail before the cops get here and you walk the streets…you’re gonna die. First off, once word spreads among the Kings that you killed Simms, you’re gonna be Public Enemy No. 1 and second, once the Dogs find out that you killed Sanchez, they’re gonna want your blood, too. Frankly, it seems to me that taking it up the ass and getting three squares a day might be safer than being on the streets with both the Dogs and the Kings after you. But, hey, it’s your call. Just know this…you will die an ugly and painful death if you leave this building. Trust me on this. Between you and me, I hope you run,” Hunter’s admitted with a mean grin. “Oh, I hope you run, friend — because you deserve what’s coming for you.”

  Dimas paled. “You would do that to me?”

  “Ask yourself…have I ever forgiven someone who’s betrayed me?”

  Dimas didn’t bother answering, he already knew.

  “Choice is yours,” Hunter said with a shrug, following Jax out. Hunter took a final look at his former friend and then locked him out of his life. With an icy smirk, he quipped over his shoulder, “Hey, I hear orange is the new black. Hopefully, they have Vasoline where you’re going.”

  Goodbye, old friend — you rotten piece of shit.

  Hunter turned to Jax once they were back in the truck, saying, “Maybe we need better friends.”

  Jax glowered. “Fuck friends. We don’t need no one. If you don’t let no one in, they can’t screw you over.”

  Couldn’t argue with that logic. But…they both wanted — no, needed — Zoe. He risked a glance at Jax. How did he convince Jax that Zoe needed them as well?

  Hell, he didn’t know the answers and it hurt his head just trying to figure it all out but as much as he’d like to say, fuck it and forget all about Zoe, he simply couldn’t.

  And neither could Jax. Maybe if the stubborn shit would come to that realization, too, he’d stop being a royal asshole.

  That was a big maybe.

  Delainey picked up Zoe from th
e hospital, her eyes agog at the saga Zoe had endured and God love her, a little jealous it seemed for the adventure.

  “It’s like a scene from a movie,” Delainey exclaimed, chattering like a magpie while Zoe stared out the window, still moving slowly and a bit doped up on pain meds. “I mean, I know it must’ve been sooooo terrifying and OHMYGOD, you could’ve DIED! But think of the story you have to tell! The scariest thing that’s ever happened to me is

  when I accidently forgot where I parked the car and it was near dark at the mall. I could’ve been raped but I wasn’t, of course — thank goodness — but for a full minute, my heart was racing. You were kidnapped at gun point by a thug and then pushed by that same thug off a catwalk. You should write novels or something because you’ve lived such an amazing experience.”

  “One death-dying plunge from a catwalk does not a novelist make,” Zoe

  answered dryly but there was something to what Delainey had inadvertently triggered. Write a novel. Why not? After all this time she’d been looking for something deeper, for her work to have more meaning but she’d never considered the possibility of going inward for her own inspiration. When she’d been in junior high, she’d dreamed of writing novels but her parents had encouraged her to find a “sensible” career. When she’d selected journalism, her father had at least acknowledged that it was a real job and not

  just mental doodles and somehow she’d forgotten about her true dream of creating something from nothing. She looked to Delainey. “Do you think I could write a book?”

  “Oh yes,” Delainey answered with a fervent nod, ever the supportive cheerleader. “I love your style of writing. I’d read anything you wrote.”

  Zoe smiled, loving her friend. “But would anyone else?”

  “You know, I thought the same thing when I started my graphic design business. I didn’t have the confidence to believe that my stuff was worth paying for but I took a chance and went for it and then my clients reassured me with their hard-earned cash that my stuff was good enough. I’ve struggled, yes, but I’ve found that my graphic design keeps my bank account happy while my other art keeps my soul happy. What are you doing for your soul, Zoe?”

  “Wow, that was deep,” Zoe said with an unsure laugh. “Nothing?”

  “Exactly! That’s what I’m talking about. You just had a near-death experience. You need to grab onto this second chance with both hands and don’t let go.”

  Zoe nodded. Delainey was right. She couldn’t squander this second chance. A sudden warmth filled her chest and she smiled bigger with more surety. “I’m going to write a novel. Holy cow. A novel. I’m gonna do it. Oh crap,” she looked to Delainey with happy tears. “Now I’m scared to death! How will I eat? How will I pay my bills?”

  “You’ll figure it out. In the meantime, ramen noodles and peanut butter will keep you alive,” Delainey provided with a giggle. “Trust me.”

  Zoe nodded, so thankful for her best friend in the whole world. What would she do without her? Hopefully, she’d never have to find out.

  The rest of the drive was fairly sedate as Zoe remained locked in her thoughts and Delainey, sensing her fatigue, was content to play music until they arrived at her apartment. Delainey got out to help Zoe up the stairs and Jax and Hunter peeled away from the building shadows like two angel-demons coming to whisk her to heaven or drag her to hell — it was anyone’s guess — and Delainey was clearly intimidated but fascinated as well. Oh good Lord, this girl was going to be trouble around the bad boys. Had she been any different? My, things had changed in such a short amount of time. Zoe felt leagues away from the silly girl she’d been.

  “We’ll take it from here,” Jax said solicitously to Delainey, shocking Zoe as he hoisted her into his arms. Zoe could almost hear Delainey’s envious sigh.

  “Are you sure?” Delainey asked tremulously. “Zo? You good?”

  “I’m fine, thank you, Dee,” Zoe said to reassure her best friend but she wasn’t entirely pleased with either Hunter nor Jax at the moment and she planned to tell them exactly how she felt right before she kicked them out of her life just as unceremoniously as they’d dumped her off at the hospital to recover alone. “I’ll call you later,” she promised Delainey before they disappeared into her apartment. The moment the door closed, she glowered at Jax. “You can put me down now.”

  Jax gently placed her on the sofa and stood beside Hunter, both looking adorably uncertain and yet gruffly concerned for her wellbeing. Well, a little too late for that now, buster(s). “How are you?” Jax ventured, his gaze straying to her various lacerations and bruises, wincing when he saw the really bad one on her calf where the fractured wood had speared her leg.

  “You don’t get to ask me that question,” she stated flatly. “The timing for that particular question was two weeks ago.”

  “We had things to take care of,” Jax started but she didn’t want to hear it and waved away his attempt.

  “Don’t bother. I don’t care what you have to say.”

  Jax’s mouth clamped shut and he immediately looked to Hunter for reinforcements. “Look, we thought the best thing would be to keep away so you could rest and heal without all the drama going on around you.”

  “That might be easier to swallow if you’d even tried to call,” she pointed out bluntly. “It doesn’t matter what excuse you manufacture because I don’t care any more. Being dropped on your face and nearly dying brings certain things into perspective. I don’t need to chase after guys who care so little for me. I mean, yeah, in the beginning I was all amazed that two guys like you would even look twice at someone like me but now…I realize if someone doesn’t like my curves, that’s their problem, not mine. I’m tired of chasing after things that don’t serve me. And right now…you don’t serve me at all. Got it? Now, please, get out of my apartment.”

  “Zoe, it’s not like that,” Hunter began in earnest. “We wanted to come by. First, we couldn’t because we weren’t family and we didn’t want anyone asking questions that none of us knew how to answer. So we had a friend of ours, a nurse, check in on you daily and let us know what was going on with you. We knew at all times how you were doing.”

  Zoe tried not be affected by Hunter’s admission but she’d had no idea they were watching covertly, secretly caring about her welfare. It softened the blow of abandonment, a little, she supposed. But at the end of the day, it didn’t matter. Not really. “I appreciate that you actually do care. But what are we hoping to achieve here? It can’t be endless sex all the time. At some point, real life intrudes, you know? I want things that I doubt fit in your ‘want’ column and after going through what I did…I realize, I won’t settle for anything less than I deserve.”

  “We would never ask you to settle nor would we allow you to settle, ever,” Jax said in a cool, even tone that sent shivers down her back. “You deserve the very best, Zoe.”

  There was such sincerity, such raw honesty that Zoe couldn’t help but want to forgive them anything, to promise them anything but she had to stay strong, not only for herself but for them as well. “I want kids. Not today, but someday,” she said. “And kids need stability. I may not have had the most glamorous life but I had a good childhood. I want that, too. I don’t want to live in fear that someone is going to come along and kidnap my kids and drop them from a catwalk because they’re pissed off or getting even with their father. You know?”

  Jax and Hunter both nodded but she could tell they weren’t going to walk away, not yet.

  “I want the picket fence and the barbecues. And frankly, I’ll never have that with either of you.”

  “We have something…you can’t deny it,” Hunter stated and he was right, she couldn’t deny it. “You changed us, Zoe, just as we changed you. If you want backyard barbecues and a white fences…you can have it. We’ll give it to you.”

  “But that’s just it…I shouldn’t ask you to keep changing who you are just to fit my dreams. It’s not fair to you and I l-love you, too much to ask,” she sa
id, her voice breaking. Oh damn, she told herself not to cry but the tears were coming anyway. She wiped at her eyes. “See? Now I’m crying and it’s all your fault. Can’t you see that we’re never going to work in the real world?”

  “Fuck the real world, Zoe,” Jax shot back, shocking her. He came to her side, gripping her hand gently. “Fuck all the haters. We’ll make our own rules. All that matters is you, me and Hunter. Say it and it’ll be true.”

  Her throat clogged. “It’s not that simple.”

  “It is if you make it that way,” Jax said. “I need you, baby. I’ve never needed a woman like I need you. You remind me of times I never realized I could have. I used to make fun of that shit — neighbors, barbecues, family times — but only because I’d never been able to have it. With you…I want it all.”

  Was it possible? Zoe wavered, desperately wanting to sink into that declaration and wrap herself tightly with it but she knew wanting something and living it were two different things. Suddenly, Hunter, sensing her weakness, joined Jax at her feet. Two of the biggest, baddest men were kneeling at her feet as if she were a goddess and they were merely her servants. It was a heady feeling, to be honest. Too many questions, too many possibilities. Her head swam while her heart wailed. She wanted them. She wanted them like a fat kid wanted cake but was it feasible? What would people say when they found out they were all together? She chewed her bottom lip. “I don’t know,” she whispered, more to the questions in her head than to the men at waiting for her. “I just don’t know. I need time to think.”

  Both Jax and Hunter wore their disappointment but they handled her request with grace. Jax pressed a tender kiss on her cheek while Hunter boldly went for her mouth. Their touch ignited a firestorm of banked need inside her and it took every ounce of strength in her weakened body not to pull them to her.

  “This isn’t over,” Hunter promised. “We never give up on what we want. Ever.”

 

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