by Debra Kayn
The man's shoulders relaxed and he moved back. Raul squeezed into the room and waited. He'd lied.
He wasn't related to the Sanchez's of the small Mexican town. He was American born, but for Garcia's sake, he was one of their people who came from a neighboring village, his people deceased and untraceable. The real Raul Sanchez, buried in the desert, a used up coke addict who'd died from his habit at the perfect time, letting Raul resurrect himself into a man with no background.
Raul had covered his tracks. He couldn't take the chance of anyone finding holes in his story, because Garcia's arms were long, and he had the penal system and contacts within the government to use whenever he snapped his fingers.
Two people outside the bureau knew his identity, and they owed Raul their lives. Rain and Tori Brookshire. He preferred to put his trust into others on the wrong side of the law to further himself within the club, while staying in his role as the president of Lagsturns. He looked at the closed door. Even right now, Crystal was safe within the arms of a woman married to the Mafia, and he hoped to get back to her.
"How long are we going to wait?" Duck swept his long stringy hair, ratted from the wind over his shoulder. "Place freaks me out."
"Afraid of ghosts?" Big Joe chuckled. His beer gut trembled with the sound.
"Fuck off," Duck said.
"Calm, boys." Raul walked across the room and leaned against the wall. "We'll stay until business is done."
At the announcement, the door swung open, and Guillermo Garcia strolled in as if he hadn't watched their whole movement the last hour while the Lagsturns waited outside. The six-foot black haired man with perfectly arched brows smiled at Raul. Raul remained where he was leaning on the wall, and lifted his chin. The Anglo shaped nose always looked out of place on Garcia's brown face.
"Sanchez." Garcia held his hand out, and Raul reluctantly shook. "Glad you could make it."
"Wouldn't miss it," Raul said, sniffing rudely and taking up his lax position again. "Bitch of a ride in this heat."
"A hundred and seven degrees the last time I looked." Garcia knocked his knuckles on the desk. "I'll make this quick, and you and your men can go back to the air conditioned comforts you are accustomed to."
"I'd appreciate it," Raul said. "We've lined up two semis for the job. We'll escort the shipment through Cali and stop at the border. From there, your team will take over and see everything through Arizona."
Garcia's gaze narrowed. "That wasn't the agreement."
The smooth attitude gone, Garcia's hands stilled. The 40-caliber pistol tucked into Garcia's waistband a reminder to Raul who was in charge. Raul, naked without any way to defend himself except the chain latched to his belt and his men standing beside him, could only go so far against a bullet.
"Once we step over the state line into Arizona we have no backing, no charter to see to our safety. I have two men who I need on that ride that have warrants in Arizona and with all of us riding together, we'll have too much attention on us to promise nothing will happen to bring them home safe to their families. I have us covered through California. Nobody will touch us," Raul said.
"I will, amigo," Garcia whispered. "I can't let you leave this room alive if you don't follow through with our agreement. You and your men know too much, and have disappointed me. If I would've known you were going to go back on your word, well…"
He would've shot Raul and every Lagsturns on the property. Raul looked away and gazed at each of his men. They'd talked at the table and called club majority. None of them wanted to flip off the odds of making it safely through Arizona. Skepticism and worry met his gaze. He ignored his brothers' silent questions and turned to Garcia.
"We'll take the delivery through Arizona, and—"
"Prez." Duck stepped up beside him. "They'll slam me in prison for arson and murder. I've got an old lady, two kids."
"Shut up," Raul snapped. "We ride."
Garcia laughed, but the sound came out forced and condescending. "It's good to see you have control of your men."
"Thursday?" Raul ignored the tension in his men and pushed off the wall.
"I'll get word of the time and location to you." Garcia sat down on the top of the desk. "Do I understand that you'll have the girl I want in your possession upon our meet?"
His toes curled and he nodded. "That was the agreement, wasn't it? Thirty percent of the profits on the blow, twenty percent on the women we deliver, and you get my bitch."
"Excellent, my friend. You came through in good time too. I look forward to getting to know her better." Garcia inhaled deeply. "Now, I have one concern."
A lengthy pause came to the conversation. Raul gave him a few seconds and said, "What would that be?"
"There's a rumor you're a doubler," Garcia said.
"Heard the rumor myself." He walked over to Brad, grabbed his nose, yanking his head up, and let the fresh cut bleed, showing the cut along Brad's neck. "Here's where I heard the story."
Guillermo's mouth twitched. "Your handy work?"
Raul shrugged. "A past time. I'll deal with him when we—"
The gun blast echoed in the room. Raul's gaze went to Garcia and he heard the thud to the right of him of a body hitting the floor. There was no reason to look. He knew what happened, and he knew he had to pass the test.
"Holy fuck," Big Joe mumbled.
Raul ignored his men's shock. His heart pounded and he forced the air into his chest through his nose, because if he opened his mouth, his vulnerability would show. An eight-year member of the Lagsturns saw death every week. A fallen brother came with the lifestyle. The agent inside of him never could stand back and watch someone murdered in cold blood, and it took everything out of him to tap down his reaction.
This was how he took care of business. Garcia knew the rules. Raul played by them.
"Gracious," Raul said, dipping his chin. "You've saved me the work of taking him to ground."
Garcia remained holding the pistol. "Do you need an escort out of town, so your men don't decide to off their president to save their own asses?"
Raul looked toward his men. "Speak now? Do I have someone who will stab me in the back?"
Duck shook his head. "No."
"No," Big Joe said.
Butch grinned. Raul cocked his head to the other side. The sick fuck enjoyed the shooting. "Butch?"
"No, Prez. I have your back." Butch's mouth barely moved as he studied their fallen member.
Raul turned back to Garcia. "The Lagsturns wait for you."
Together, four members of the Lagsturns walked out of the room, leaving one of their own behind. Without a word, Raul was the first to start his motorcycle, the first to leave the Armory, and the first to lead them out of town single file. Free from the dust flying in his wake, he let the dry hot air flow over him, flicking his sweat soaked hair.
In one hour, he'd pull over and explain how he'd be with Crystal until Thursday. His decision to distance himself from the club would add speculation to the rumors, but he had to get Crystal away somewhere safe.
There was no way in fucking hell he was handing his woman over to Guillermo Garcia, no matter the job he had to do. Somehow, he'd figure a way to keep her safe, keep his identity secret, and keep his word to Garcia. He had everyone's life at stake if he screwed up now.
Chapter Nine
After sulking for a half hour, Crystal joined Juanita in the back of the laundromat and without speaking a word, helped her with the dry cleaning. Exactly four hours and ten minutes after Raul called to tell Crystal he'd be there to pick her up in two hours, the vibration of a Harley outside set Crystal into motion. She pushed the rack of hung shirts over to Juanita and curbed her relief.
"Raul's here," Crystal said, breaking the silence.
"Yes, he is." Juanita's mouth trembled into a smile. "You may go out to your man."
She hesitated, glancing at the doorway. "Just like that? You're going to let me walk away? What if it's another biker and not Raul?"
Juanita picked up another shirt and held it in front of her, straightening the collar. "You're not the only woman who knows the sound of Raul's motorcycle, chica."
Crystal's lip curled and she turned away, heading toward Raul. She didn't want to hear about how Juanita figured into Raul's life. Some things were better left unspoken. She was too hot and tired to fight the bitch now.
"Crystal?" Juanita called before she could escape.
Crystal stopped at the door and turned around. "What?"
"You're a good worker." Juanita shrugged away the compliment and continued. "I can always use another girl who knows how to work hard without talking. You contact me if you ever need a job."
Crystal looked everywhere but at Juanita, and finally nodded. "Thanks."
"You're welcome." Juanita shooed her out of the room. "Go on to your man and give him a kiss from Juanita, yes?"
"Uh, no." She snorted.
Following half of the instructions, Crystal walked through the laundromat, wiping her forearm across her forehead. The working conditions sucked all the energy out of her and left her dirty, sweaty, and irritable. However, she wasn't stupid. She'd contact Juanita again if the situation called for her getting a job. It beat rubbing against a pole and fighting men off her every night.
She pushed through the back door. The heat outside matched the humid air inside the building, and yet the breeze soothed her overheated skin. She closed her eyes and put her face toward the sky. Her body sighed in pleasure as the moisture on her body dried.
"I rush over here to see my girl, and the first thing she does is ignore me." Raul's smooth timbre rolled over her. "Doesn't exactly leave a man thinking he's her everything."
She opened her eyes and raised her hand, blocking the sun from her eyes. "It's what you deserve after the day you put me through."
He remained standing beside his motorcycle. Raul's lips twitched in amusement. His hair, wild and windblown hung around his shoulders, held off his forehead by the sunglasses he'd slid up to the top of his head. Her breasts grew heavy and her nipples constricted, despite her displeasure at the treatment she went through with Charlie and her all day imprisonment with Raul's ex-lover.
She equally loved how it was impossible to stay mad at him for long and hated how he wouldn't take her seriously. He never demanded she get over her moods, just waited her out as if he found the female mind fascinating and he had all the time in the world.
"You made me leave the club after you promised I could stay," she said.
"Yeah, I did." He slipped his hand into the inside of his vest and glanced at her. "I could really use a smoke right now."
"I thought you gave that up." She stepped toward him, but stayed an arm's length away.
He pinned her to the spot. "I stopped while I was with you, because you bitched about my health all the time. You left—"
"You kicked me out," she said.
He dropped his hand to his side and nodded without breaking his gaze. "I did, and nothing I do will change that mistake. I don't need you throwing it in my face, mi vida"
She sighed and remained silent. Raul flipped open the empty backpack tied to the back of his motorcycle, rifled through it, and held up a pack of smokes in victory. She eyed him. "What's wrong?"
"Bad day." He pulled out a cigarette and held it up under his nose, inhaling.
The lines across his forehead deepened, and for the first time she noticed his eyes were darker than normal, pained. He avoided looking at her. She lost her irritation. Something happened today and whatever it was, he was unsettled.
"Go ahead and smoke it." She approached him, stood on her toes, and kissed him softly. "I won't lecture you tonight, baby."
He slid his fingers into the top of her jeans and tugged her closer. One arm hooked her neck, pulling her against his chest. Against her, he remained hard, tense, and unmovable. She slid her arms around his waist and leaned her cheek against his collarbone. His heart raced against her ear.
"Need you. All day, I just wanted to come to you and escape." He kissed her forehead, and then lit his smoke. He blew out the smoke at the same time said, "Tired of shit."
"What happened?" she whispered. "You mentioned going nomad."
His chest expanded with the drag on the cigarette and then he exhaled, his voice softening and deepening. "We're not going back to the club."
"Baby, I get that. But why?" She leaned back, keeping her arms around him. "You'd never turn away from the Lagsturns. You're their president. They depend on you, and you need them."
His gaze narrowed. "Don't question me. I need you, that's all you need to know."
She shook her head, wanting to argue the point, and his grip tightened. "Okay."
"Good girl." He kissed her hard and deep. Then all too soon, he pulled away. "Get on the back."
Raul handed her a helmet, swung his leg over his Harley, and started the engine. She latched the D loop on her helmet, put her foot on the peg, and climbed up behind him. Riding away from the Lagsturns frightened her more than riding to them. They'd be alone— and for how much she'd love to have Raul's attention not divided between her and the club— they'd lost their protection.
Raul rode out along the main road and hit the highway. She relaxed her grip on his shirt, and slid her hands underneath the soft worn material and touched bare skin. Hard, sculpted muscles under her palms heated her already warm body. Raul let go of the left handle and rubbed the outside of her thigh. Unable to speak while he traveled, he connected with her by touch often to reassure her everything would be okay.
The wind blew her hair off her neck. She closed her eyes, letting the vibrations of the motorcycle and the speed at which they travel calm her. One moment at a time, she'd face what each day brought her.
Her mother's soft voice whispered in her imagination. "Tomorrow will be different. It'll be easier if you follow the rules."
A shiver rolled down her back and she opened her eyes. Raul held up one finger. She nodded, and remembered what she was supposed to do if something was wrong. She patted his stomach twice. Once meant he needed to pull over, two times and she was fine.
She'd have to be more careful. Around him, she let herself slip into her past, her dreams, her life, and he saw past her defenses and stayed attuned to her in a way others were not. Not her parents or any of the people she'd friended since leaving home at seventeen years old.
Chapter Ten
The further Raul rode away from Lagsturns' territory, the more mixed his feelings grew. He glanced around the gas station where he and Crystal stopped to rest. On short notice, he could think of one place where she'd be safe.
Taking her there would test him, but going nomad for real…wasn't happening.
Crystal walked out of the restroom of the gas station. Raul whistled, and then gave her a grin. He enjoyed the way her long legs took longer strides to reach him and her breasts, barely contained in one of the skimpy white T-shirts hugged her body like a second skin, bounced in her eagerness. He didn't have to look to know every guy pumping gas into their rigs had stopped to watch her walk to him.
Everywhere they went, he saw the envious raised brows of appreciation from other men. His woman was hot, and she knew it. She flung her hair over her shoulders and smiled back at him. The impish expression almost had him laughing. She loved the attention, and he was a lucky man.
"Ready?" He tossed her the helmet.
She bent over at the waist, gathered her hair, and put the helmet on her head before straightening. "How much longer are we riding?"
They'd rode late into the night, stopped at a motel and grabbed a few hours of sleep, and left before the sun came up. It was almost dusk on their second day now, and they'd put in a solid hard day of riding. He tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear, checking the strap of her helmet. "An hour."
She frowned and studied the area. "Aren't we near—?"
"Yeah." He walked over to the Harley. "Hop on, we need to go."
"Wait." She hu
rried over to him and grasped the handlebar. "You can't take me to Pitnam."
"I can and I will." He glanced down at her holding his bike. "Get on the back."
She shook her head, stepping away. "No. I'm not going back there."
He was off the motorcycle faster than she could turn around and run. He hooked her waist and dragged her body against his. She grunted as her next words turned to expelled air under the impact.
He put his lips to her ear. "Do not cause a scene, mi vida. Any one of those upstanding citizens watching you right now gets an urge to play white knight and save the blonde isn't going to like what I do to him."
Trapped within his arms, she couldn't budge her way free. She squirmed. "The Bantorus members will crucify me, Raul. Please, let's go somewhere else."
"I'll be with you," he said. "I won't let them touch you."
She exhaled harshly. "They'll kill you too, you know. Rain's riding hot after the last time you dared roll into his territory. You know that for a fact. He knows you set me after him, and I played his bitch. His woman got hurt because of me. If I would've told him sooner—"
"Trust me." He moved his hand up into her hair, pulled hard enough to tilt her face up to him, and held her there.
"I can't—"
"Trust me," he repeated. "I won't let anyone hurt you."
"Rain won't let us stay in Pitnam," she said. "He'll think I had something to do with his woman getting kidnapped. I messed up and thought I could use our relationship to keep her safe. He'll never believe that I was doing the only thing I knew to do at the time."
"You'll let me worry about that." He eased away from her, needing distance from her questions. "Now, get on the bike."
He ignored her stubbornness and waited her out without another word. When she settled herself behind him, he set off for Pitnam. There was going to be hell to pay later, but he was running out of options and he had to keep her in the dark until the business with Garcia was over.
Right now, he had to work on getting into Pitnam safely and talking to Rain.
For one, the Bantorus MC saw him for the president of the Lagsturns—who were not welcome in Pitnam. Two, Rain and Tori knew his true occupation. He trusted them as much as he could given the situation, but as with everything there were risks involved. Rain was tight with his members of the Bantorus MC. His loyalty lay with them.
