Reckless

by Franca Storm

  Disgusting. All of it. Them. And him.

  Ralph coughs out, “Denial.”

  I shove him out of my way and make my way over to my bike.

  “Really? The Triumph? You sure that won’t be sending Ax the wrong message?” he teases.

  I glare up at him, not amused at all. “He’s a biker. He wouldn’t dare to mess with a bike like this, thereby ensuring that he won’t mess with this mode of transportation, so no more gas-siphoning issues.”

  As I mount the bike, Ralph loses the spark of amusement in his eyes and regards me seriously. “Do you think he’s right about the Mavs planning to move in here? Or, you think it’s a power play on Black Thorns’ part so they can claim territory here?”

  “He’s telling the truth. I have surveillance set up on the safe house I brought him to that night. He thinks it’s my home residence. If he’d come here to distract me so the club could screw me over to take over our business dealings, he would’ve already reported my location to Trigger and they would’ve sent their boys around there and rifled through the place looking for information and stuff. We’ve dealt with them before; we know how they work. And, what those idiot Mavs prospects let slip is all the proof we need that Skinner is planning to move in here. He’s already trying to commandeer all the businesses we protect.”

  “We need to play it safe, Rox.”

  For now. I nod in agreement. “Position some of our guys at the city borders. If the Mavs are gonna come through here again, I want to know about it immediately. I want to know what they’re gonna do before they do it.”

  “Will do. And you?”

  “I’m gonna get the intel Ax wants and then he’ll leave—one less thing to worry about. You’re right. I don’t want the Mavs thinking we’re working with Black Thorns. And—” My phone buzzes in my pocket. “One sec,” I tell Ralph. I pull it out and answer, “James. What? When? Yeah, that’s where their VP is staying. The Sundown Motel. Shit. No, I’ve got this. Thanks.”

  “What’s happened?” Ralph demands.

  “Ax is in trouble.”

  “What?”

  “The Mavs are coming for him. Four of them. Shit, I need to get him out before they arrive.”

  I gun the bike.

  I’m speeding out of the garage in the next second before Ralph can even attempt to protest.

  Chapter 9

  ~Ax~

  “Why’d you not tell me the contact’s a damn woman?” I thunder down the phone at Prez as I pace up and down my motel room. Shit, not a lot of guys would get away with talking to him like that. But, right now, I can push it a bit, cuz he needs me.

  Instead of being pissed he just laughs. “Giving you shit, is she? Busting your balls? Or, giving you blue balls?”

  “Both. Fuck, Trig.”

  “Thought I had more time to give you all the intel, instead of sending you down there so damn quickly, but the Mavs made their move sooner than I’d expected.”

  “She’s a piece of fucking work.”

  “I hear you¸ brother. Don’t try ‘n’ tame her. And keep your dick in your pants. We don’t want any complications here. She’s difficult enough to deal with as it is.”

  Too late on all counts. Shit. “What went down with her and the club?”

  “Yeah, as you know, with all the shit that went down after you left, the club took a lot of heat. The first time we really talked about going legit. Me and a couple of the boys paid a visit to a bunch of bars and clubs in Brockford and offered up some investment proposals. The girl got wind of it and everything went to shit. Put one of our boys in the fucking hospital.”

  “Who?”

  “Grit.”

  “Damn.” Grit? Holy shit. Rox took down Grit? He’s bigger than me. Damn.

  Trig goes on, “Went after her myself, but she was prepared. Had a shitload of muscle at her back and threatened to rain hell down on us.”

  “And you backed down?” In all the years I’ve known him, since he took me in as a green fifteen year old, he ain’t never backed down on nothing.

  “Weren’t worth the heat. Gotta pick your battles, Ax. Thought I taught you that better than the rest. It’s why I sent you and not Smiter.”

  “I hear you.”

  “Her influence is widespread. All over Brockford. If I’d given the word, we would’ve had a turf war on our hands. And the club weren’t in any condition to deal with that at the time.”

  “Ironic now.”

  “Yeah,” he mutters bitterly, with a tired sigh.

  “Send me all the intel you got on her.”

  “You said you already struck a deal with her. Business is done, Ax.”

  Why’s he resisting this? “Just wanna make sure she ain’t gonna screw us over.”

  There’s silence down the line for a good few seconds. He’s hesitating. “Trig?” I press.

  He blows out a breath. “All right. I’ll send you the files before I head to church. Call me after, though.”

  “Call you after?”

  “Just do it,” he barks.

  “Fine.”

  He hangs up abruptly. What the fuck?

  What’s his problem here? I’m even more pissed at him now than I already was cuz he didn’t set aside the goddamn time to give me all the intel before he’d sent me down here. All I had was an incomplete name, the name of her partner and a general overview of her business—racketeering. Christ, he didn’t even bother to tell me ‘bout her run in with the club—and him directly—a couple of years back. What the fuck? Is he slipping, or what? It woulda been useful shit to know before I’d made contact. Explains her hatred for us.

  Nah, it’s deeper than that. Her hatred’s for all bikers, all clubs. Why? Is it cuz of her run-in with Skinner? Or something more?

  And what the fuck did he do to her? It’s been nagging at me, not knowing what went down between ‘em. She says he didn’t rape her. My first guess cuz of how fucked up in the head he is. But if it ain’t that, what then?

  My interest ain’t ‘bout her. It’s cuz I hate not knowing shit. That’s why it bothers me. Ain’t ‘bout her. No fucking way.

  It’s bad enough she’s been on my goddamn mind so much ever since our run-in outside the tattoo shop and having her on my bike. She’d shocked the shit outta me with her reaction to me. Hell, I’d shocked myself with my reaction to her. Fucking kissing her like that and shit? What the hell’s wrong with me?

  I went there to strong-arm her, to show her I was done playing nice; to intimidate her. And I ended up shoving my tongue down her throat like that?

  The bitch gets inside my head somehow. It’s so intense just being ‘round her and I’m thinking with my dick instead of my goddamn brain. I only just managed to get a grip earlier.

  Maybe it’s just one of those stupid chemistry things that won’t go away ‘til the tension’s taken care of. Maybe I just gotta fuck her outta my mind—and not let her fucking stop me mid-fuck this time.

  Shit, stop screwing around! I’m on a mission here. That’s what matters. I can have all the pussy I want when I’m done here. Easy pussy. Chasing some stuck up pussy’s fucking insane. A mistake. I ain’t gonna make it again. Nah, it’s done with.

  My phone buzzes in my back pocket and I pull it out. Trig’s sent the files on Rox.

  I light up a smoke and slump onto the foot of the bed as I start to check ‘em out.

  I’m just a couple of paragraphs in when I’m knocked for six.

  Holy. Fucking. Shit.

  ***

  I blow out a breath and try to focus on the hot soothing shower as I fight to clear my head after all the shit I just read in Trig’s files on Rox.

  Fuck me. It changes things. Big time.

  Knowing what I know now, I can’t hate her—the only thing that’d helped me keep my shit together ‘round her; that little bit of hatred holding me back.

  We got one hell of a thing in common.

  Is that why Trig held back on telling me the whole story ‘til I’d already com
e down here and made contact—got into the thick of it? He thought I’d back outta the mission or some shit cuz it was way too close to home for me? Like I could even if I wanted to. You don’t refuse your Prez’s orders—unless you wanna suffer for it. And I wouldn’t have anyway. I ain’t a pussy. And the bigger picture’s what matters. Killing Skinner’s my priority. It’s the only reason I came back to Black Thorns. The reason Trig begged me to come back; the reason he sent me on this mission.

  He should know better than that. Nothing’s gonna derail the mission for me. Nothing.

  I draw in a couple of deep breaths and lean my head back, letting the warm stream of water from the shower relax me some more.

  The second I close my eyes, I hear it. A loud bang coming from outside the bathroom. Takes me a split second to figure out what it is. The door. Someone’s inside my motel room.

  I rip the shower curtain back and step out and grab my gun outta my pants lying on the floor.

  Cocking it, I throw open the bathroom door…and smack right into a tight little body.

  Miss Ball Buster stands there, her eyes wide with her mouth hanging open.

  I lower my gun and flip on the safety. “What the fuck you doing here?”

  “I…”

  My anger leaves me quickly as I realize she’s lost for words. She can’t speak. Her eyes are fixed on me. All of me. Running the length of my tattoo sleeves, the ink on my chest. Her gaze dips lower to my abs and she actually bites her lip. Goddamn. The tip of her tongue darts out as she zones in on my cock. It jerks at the attention and the fucking look on her face.

  I clear my throat noisily and her gaze snaps back up to my face. She blushes, actually blushes.

  She steps back from the door and turns away, her back to me. “Uh…can you…put some clothes on?”

  Fucking hilarious. “Why?” I challenge.

  “Because, you’re…naked and…wet.”

  “Gotta expect to find this kinda shit when you break into someone’s fucking motel room.”

  “I don’t have time for manners, biker boy. Get dressed. I need to get you the hell out of here now.”

  I snatch my boxers and jeans off the bathroom floor and pull ‘em on. “What you talking ‘bout?”

  She walks to the window and looks outside anxiously. “Just hurry. They’re already on their way.”

  I pull on my black t-shirt and join her by the window. “Who?”

  “A bunch of bikers. Mavs. They’re coming here—for you.”

  “That’s fucking ballsy,” I mutter, leaving the window and grabbing my cut off the back of one of the chairs in the kitchenette. I shrug it on and turn back around to find Rox eyeing me. “What?”

  “Why aren’t you…reacting? Thugs with guns are coming here to hurt you, Ax.”

  “I’m used to it. The question is: why are you reacting? Worried ‘bout me, babe?”

  “Please,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I just don’t want this place torn apart. Hurry, okay.”

  What she don’t get is now the Mavs know I’m here, they’ll trash the place even if I’ve already left.

  I cross to the door. She’s already there, hauling it open by the time I reach her. She looks down at my hands. “Where’s your stuff?”

  “What stuff?”

  “Luggage…you know?”

  “Bike. Never keep shit in a room in case this happens and I gotta move fast.”

  She accepts that and hurries outta the room with me following after her. We make it down the steps into the parking lot.

  “My bike’s in the rear lot. Safer there than exposed out here.”

  “Mine too,” she says, still leading the way.

  “What? You’re riding?”

  “Yep.”

  Before I can get another word out, that familiar roar of bikes vibrates the ground beneath us. Shit.

  “Go! Back upstairs!” I bellow at Rox.

  She don’t argue for once and bolts back up the steps. I rush after her, ducking low. Heavy fire erupts around us, ripping into the concrete wall wrapping around the raised level of the motel rooms. I slam my shoulder into the door of my motel room, ripping it off its hinges. I push Rox inside first, before following her.

  “Floor!” I yell to her, just before bullets rip through the windows.

  I react on that weird protective instinct that keeps hitting me when I’m with her, and cover her body with mine as the glass rains down on us. I curse inwardly as several shards bite into my back. Fuck!

  “Bathroom window!” she yells to me over the thunderous sound of gunfire.

  I pull my gun instead. Her hand grips my wrist and she shakes her head.

  Like I ain’t gonna retaliate here. I move off her, but she grabs my cut, pulling hard. She holds up her hand—five fingers.

  Exactly five seconds later, the gunfire stops suddenly.

  “They need to reload,” she tells me. “Bathroom.”

  I’m ‘bout to bolt like Rox wants, when a familiar voice bellows from outside, “Ax!”

  My reaction’s automatic. I push off the floor, wincing at the dozens of shards piercing the flesh of my back. I hear Rox hissing at me to stay down, but I ignore it. I flatten myself against the window and look through it. And sure enough, it’s him.

  Marcus “Broker” Anders. The Mavs’ VP. And our former VP. The guy I replaced after the club kicked him out for his shit. And the guy who I got every fucking reason to hate for what he did to me and my family. Trig shoulda let me put that psycho in the ground when I’d had the chance a little while back.

  “Broker,” I call back.

  “This is just a warning, Ax. Skinner’s orders. But you and I got our own unfinished business, don’t we, boy?”

  My fists clench, white-hot anger firing me up, and I wish there weren’t nothing between us so I could pound him into the fucking ground; rip him apart with my bare hands.

  He pulls something from his cut and holds it up.

  As soon as I can make out what it is, rage rips through me. My eyes narrow to deadly slits and it’s all I can do not to launch myself through the window at him. But his guys would rip me to shreds with their automatics before I even made it close to him.

  It’s a gold cross on a thick gold chain. The cross itself is stained with blood.

  It’s hers. So is the blood. I know that for a fact. It was on her when I found her.

  “How the fuck you get that? You went back for it?”

  “You know I like a souvenir of all my accomplishments,” he answers, laughing maliciously.

  “You piece of shit! I’m gonna rip you apart, motherfucker!”

  He crooks his finger. “Come here you little shit and we’ll see who’s really gonna rip who apart. You’re going soft Ax. Shoulda killed those prospects of ours. Word wouldn’t have got back to us ‘bout you being here otherwise.”

  “You said you were gonna take care of them before I left,” Rox hisses at me.

  Yeah, that’s what I’d told her. Fuck that. I kept ‘em alive on purpose—to draw Broker out.

  I ignore her and fire back at Broker, “I set you up, shit head! Now, lose your boys and we’ll sort our business right the hell now.”

  He laughs. “You’re making this too easy for me, Ax. You’re still the reckless kid Trig brought into the club years ago. Willing to risk everything cuz you can’t control your damn anger. The club and the biker princess you got in there with you.”

  I look at Rox and see the shock on her face that Broker’s calling her out in front of me. Thing is, I already know everything after reading Trig’s files on her. She seems surprised as fuck that I got no reaction.

  “You can’t beat me, you know that. I fucking trained you. So, we do this and I’m gonna come in there and rip you apart until you’re begging me to put a bullet in your fucking skull to stop the goddamn pain! Then I’ll enjoy getting my dick wet in some biker princess pussy. Best kind. Just ask your old man.”

  His words push me over the edge and before I can eve
n think ‘bout what I’m actually doing, I just react, barreling over to the door. I burst through it, roaring with fury and ready to rip Broker’s fucking head off…

  And then I hear sirens.

  Cops!

  Broker curses and signals his guys to get the hell outta here. He flips me off and then guns his bike, leading his guys away.

  “Fuck!” I bellow. He was right there. So close.

  “Let’s go, Ax!” Rox calls to me.

  I turn to see her now standing in the doorway, gesturing wildly for me to come back inside. “Through the back or they’ll see you.”

  “You got cops on your payroll.”

  “On the down low. I didn’t call this in. It was probably Ralph. I have no idea if my guys are gonna show up, or some others who aren’t on my payroll and will take one look at your rap sheet and cuff you.”

  “You’ve seen my rap sheet?”

  “Of course. I looked into you when you showed up here. Now, let’s go.”

  I nod and she takes off towards the bathroom. I follow her in and she kicks the door shut behind us and locks it as I rush over to the window and work quickly to rip the damn dilapidated thing outta the wall, cuz it don’t open fully.

  “Hurry!” she yells as the sirens get louder, letting us know the cops are right outside.

  “Fucking trying, babe.”

  “Come on! Put your back into it!”

  Argh! “Shut it! Just shut the fuck up!” I thunder, the adrenaline pumping through me turning to rage now. Rage at Broker. Rage at her. Rage at the entire messed up situation.

  It helps me out, giving me the extra edge I need to finally rip the fucking window outta the wall.