Midnight Obsession: A Midnight Riders Motorcycle Club Romance Part 4

by Olivia Thorne

  “You fucking voted me in for exactly that reason!”

  He made a face like Whatever. “Yeah, sure, it sounded like a good idea at first – nobody else dyin’, nobody goin’ to jail anymore. But when the money stopped – fuck that. Lou was just sayin’ what the rest of the club was already thinkin’. We signed up for a better life, not the fuckin’ poorhouse.”

  “So you had to get a job,” I sneered. “So you had to work for once in your life. Poor little bitch.”

  “Fuck you, Jack – you and your fuckin’ body shop… you did alright, so you didn’t give a shit about the rest of us.”

  “Fuck you, Tex. I bought that place ten years ago, back in the ‘good old days.’ I sweated and slaved and worked my ass off, and up until Lou fucked me over, I had eight other Riders working there.”

  “I didn’t join the MC to work a nine-to-five, you dumbshit! I patched in to drink, and fuck chicks, and raise hell! And then you get elected president and suddenly the party’s fuckin’ over. Yeah, you fucked us all real good on that one.”

  I stood there in shock.

  Was this really what it had come down to?

  Had I spent the last three years lying to myself, determined to build a better world that nobody else wanted?

  I racked my brain, asking myself, Where did it all go wrong?

  The only conclusion I could come to was, With the men I’d started with.

  I’d told Fiona that I’d tried to raise a bunch of assholes and drunks up out of the gutter. To pull them up, clean them off, and make something out of them.

  It never occurred to me that the majority of them might have preferred the gutter.

  I looked over at Lee, Indiana, and Fishbone. “Is that what you guys wanted, too?”

  They all stared at the floor, too cowed to look me in the eye.

  I turned back to Tex. “Why didn’t you tell me? If you weren’t happy, you should have come and talked to me.”

  “Riiight,” Tex sneered. “You were like a fuckin’ Jesus freak on crack, man. Born again! Gonna save the whole goddamn club! Wasn’t any use tryin’ to talk sense into you, you fuckin’ asshole. You were gonna steamroll right over the rest of us, no matter what anybody else wanted.”

  Shit.

  So it had all been fucking pointless. All three years of it.

  “Give me your guns,” I said. “And take it slow.”

  They all looked at each other, like they were trying to figure out what to do.

  “Not THAT slow,” I snapped.

  Lee, Fishbone, and Indiana slowly pulled their guns out and placed them on the floor. I slid them away with my foot, one by one.

  “Now your phones.”

  They did the same, and I kicked them into the corner.

  “Lee, tie up Fishbone. Use that lamp cord over there.” Three minutes later – “Alright, now tie up Indiana. Use the fuckin’ string from the blinds.”

  Next I had him tie Tex’s hands behind his back with another electrical cord. I’m sure it was painful with a bullet in his shoulder, but Tex shrieked like a little bitch the entire time.

  “JESUS GOD, YOU’RE FUCKIN’ KILLIN’ ME!” as he lay facedown on the floor.

  “Man the fuck up,” I snapped.

  “FUCK YOU – YOU SHOT ME!”

  “You were the one who pulled on me first, remember?”

  “FUCK YOU, ASSHOLE!”

  I kicked him in the ass as hard as I could. “Next one’s gonna be in the shoulder unless you shut the fuck up.”

  He shut up.

  Once Lee was finished, I tied his arms and legs.

  Now that they were all trussed up like Christmas turkeys, I threw the phones in the microwave and set it on five minutes. Sparks began to fly inside.

  I walked back into the living room. “I came here for one reason, and one reason only: to warn you motherfuckers to leave town. Shit’s going down – ”

  “Yeah, with you and the Bastards, trying to fuck over the club!” Tex yelled.

  I put my foot on his shoulder and applied a little pressure. He squealed like a stuck pig.

  “You got anything else to say?” I asked.

  He shook his head ‘no’ as the sweat poured down his face.

  I continued. “Shit’s going down soon, and I don’t want you guys to get caught in the middle of it. You can listen to me or not, but I came back here to save you.”

  I paused.

  “That was the whole reason. For three years, that was the whole reason. Believe it or not, but it’s the God’s honest truth.”

  I stood there at a loss for what else to say.

  “Tell the others,” I finally said. “Bucky, and Craig, and Sanford. But don’t tell Lou, because he’ll just lie to you and fill your head with horseshit till you don’t know which way is up. Just… leave. That’s all I’m asking. And don’t follow me, or come after me… because I will kill you if I have to. And that’s all the warning you’ll get.”

  With that done, I walked out of the house as the phones in the microwave filled the kitchen with smoke.

  160

  Fiona

  Jack got back to the cottage around two in the afternoon.

  “…how did it go?” I asked, though I could see it written on his face.

  “Not good.”

  Alarm must have shown on my face, because he hurriedly said, “They don’t know anything more than when I walked in – but Lou’s been feeding them lies. He’s been saying you and I are going around murdering club members out of revenge, so he put a $50,000 bounty on my head.”

  “Holy shit,” I murmured.

  “Not only that, he told them that we’re working with Sloane and the Bastards to destroy the club.”

  “He told them that?!” I asked, bewildered. “But – ”

  “I think he’s trying to spin it so that when Sloane helps him out, it’ll look like he was a genius to turn her from our side to his.”

  “But… she’s not going to help him out… right?”

  “We’ll see.”

  “I thought you trusted her.”

  “I do, but… I don’t know what to think anymore.” He sighed. “They told me that none of them wanted the club to go legit. That as soon as the money from the drugs and guns dried up, they wanted to go right back to being outlaws. Basically, I was a goddamn idiot who couldn’t see what was right in front of my own fucking eyes.”

  “You were a good man,” I whispered, “trying to do the right thing.”

  He kissed me softly, then pulled back slightly to look at me. “You were right. I shouldn’t have gone.”

  “I don’t know. Now you can go into this knowing you tried everything you could to save them. Whatever happens to them now is on them and Lou, not you.”

  “…maybe.”

  “No maybes about it. You’ve got a clean conscience from here on out.”

  He sighed again and held me tight. “I wish that were true.”

  “What do we do now?” I asked.

  “Now we wait.”

  After we stood silently in each other’s arms for about 30 seconds, I squeezed his ass playfully and whispered, “I know a way we can pass the time.”

  He laughed. “Tell me more.”

  “Maybe it’s best if I show you.”

  161

  I think I did a suitably good job of distracting him.

  It was a fun romp – different positions, some very vigorous fucking, and even some laughter as we fell off the bed at one point.

  Oh, and a couple of mind-blowing orgasms.

  We lingered on the floor afterward, wrapped up in a sheet and comforter, and just talked. About what he’d wanted to be when he grew up. (An astronaut, later a fireman – and then he saw his first biker on a Harley and was sold.) About what I’d wanted to be when I grew up. (A princess, then president, then an actress.) The paths that had led us to where we were, and the paths we still wanted to go down one day.

  And all that talk just naturally led to caresses… which l
ed to kissing… which led to us making love again.

  I remember thinking, This is how life is supposed to be. Long, lazy afternoons… incredible sex… talking and touching… just being with the man you love.

  It was a good day. I wished it could have gone on forever.

  We broke for dinner, getting dressed and going out just long enough to get Chinese takeout and a six-pack of beer.

  “Hell of a last dinner,” he said as we ate broccoli beef out of cardboard boxes on the porch and sipped from ice-cold cans.

  “It’s not our last dinner,” I said as I straddled him on his chair, took his beer away from him, and finished it off. “And besides, it’s not dinner that’s the main attraction… it’s dessert.”

  Which led immediately back to bed.

  It was a good evening, too.

  162

  Lou

  I checked my Rolex. 8:30. Two and a half hours to liftoff.

  I looked at myself in my bathroom mirror. Stared into my own eyes, looking for any hint of weakness, any trace of fear.

  Nothing. Just excitement… and the feeling that I deserved this.

  I fucking deserved this.

  Tonight was the night it all came together. Tonight was the night all my plans paid off.

  Three point five million dollars. Cash.

  All the scheming… all the risks… all the bullshit… tonight, it was all gonna be worth it.

  Tonight I was gonna get mine.

  I slid on the bulletproof vest, then buttoned my black shirt over it.

  No fuckin’ sense in taking chances.

  163

  Fiona

  We called Sid to coordinate, and we all left Morro Bay at 7:30 so we could be in Richards before ten. At 9:45 we stopped at a rest stop ten miles outside the city, where we all got out and stared at the distant lights of the city.

  “Enjoy the bonin’?” Sid asked as he leaned against the trunk of his car.

  “I did, thank you,” I said sardonically.

  “Well, at least somebody got some. Me, I got some pay-per-view Skin-a-Max and that was about it.”

  “Ugh,” I groaned. “TMI, Sid.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Too much information.”

  “Well, that’s the only TMI around here, then. You got a plan yet?”

  “We should be getting a call soon about the time and location,” Jack said. “I figure you should hang back with your rifle and be our ace in the hole again.”

  “Good. That’s about all I was willin’ to do, anyway.”

  “Friend Prices don’t include any more than that, huh?”

  “They sure as hell don’t include gettin’ killed.”

  “Nobody’s getting killed,” I said, though I sounded a whole lot more confident than I felt.

  “Not on our side, anyway,” Jack agreed.

  “Not for what I’m gettin’ paid, that’s for goddamn sure,” Sid grumbled.

  164

  Kade called just before ten o’clock. Jack put him on speakerphone.

  “You’re alive!”

  “I am.”

  “They treating you okay?”

  “They sewed me up and they’re giving me Jell-O, so… yeah.”

  “Ha. Good.”

  “I called to tell you good luck.”

  “Thanks.”

  Kade almost sounded guilty. “I should be there with you guys.”

  “No, you should be resting. You got shot yesterday.”

  “I thought you bikers were bad-asses,” Sid growled. “Back when I was in the Marine Corps, you got shot, you rubbed some dirt on it and walked it off.”

  I scowled at him. “Don’t be an asshole, Sid.”

  “Too late,” Kade said.

  “Whatever, ya big pansy,” Sid replied.

  “Seriously, Jack – you’re going to let a 95 year-old grandma go out there with you – ”

  “Fuck you, Junior,” Sid snapped good-naturedly.

  The phone call devolved from there until Kade said, “Hold on, Fordham wants to talk to you guys.”

  “Great,” Jack grumbled. “Put him on.”

  “Good luck.”

  “You too, man. Take care of yourself. We gotta go riding up to Canada or something after this is all over.”

  “It’s a deal.”

  Kade handed the phone over to Fordham.

  “Any word yet?” the DEA agent asked.

  “Not from Sloane. I thought you said your guys could track Lou’s phone, though.”

  “We are – but that isn’t the same as knowing where the buy’s taking place.”

  “I’ll let you know as soon as I do. Are you ready to go?”

  “Am I ready to go, he asks,” Fordham said mockingly. “Yes, I’m ready to go. You just do your part and don’t get shot. Or do – I don’t care, as long as you get me Lou, Peters, and the Santa Muertes.”

  “Your concern is touching,” I said.

  Fordham laughed. “Don’t worry, Christenson. I got a good feeling about you assholes. Got all my chips riding on black.”

  “Hope it don’t come up red, then,” Sid said, optimistic as ever.

  “Or double zero. Have fun, kids – and CALL ME.”

  165

  Jack

  The call from Sloane came through at 10:55. “Alright, sweet cheeks – it looks like the party’s gonna be at the gasworks.”

  Fiona frowned at me. Gasworks?

  Later, I mouthed.

  The gasworks were a rusted-out monstrosity on the edge of town – towers and walkways and pipelines once used to power the city, but long since abandoned to nature. Seattle has its own version, which was purchased by the city and turned into a park over 50 years ago. They painted parts of it, and planted lots of flowers and trees. Urban blight repurposed into a quirky public area.

  Richards’ version, though, was just plain urban blight. Only junkies and teenage kids looking for trouble hung out there after dark.

  It sat out in the middle of a flat stretch of desert. There was no way of sneaking up on it –perfect for drug buys and other activities where you didn’t want to be snuck up on.

  Which was fucking inconvenient for me, since Lou would see and hear us coming a mile away.

  “Did Lou tell you it’s at the Gasworks?” I asked.

  “No, Dan did. His boys are pinging their cells, and they all stopped there just a few minutes ago. Lou told me to hang out near Gardner and Main, which makes sense, ‘cause it’s only five miles away – but he still wouldn’t tell me where it was going to be.”

  “We going to see you there?” I asked.

  “The DEA still comin’?”

  “Soon as I call them.”

  “Then FUCK NO.”

  “Ha. What about Peters?”

  “Ohhh, he’ll be there – with bells on.”

  “Nice.”

  “Well… guess this is where I sign off.”

  “Thanks, Sloane. For everything.”

  “No problem, honey. Long as I get my territory.”

  “If I know you, it won’t be a problem. Good luck.”

  “Good luck to YOU – you’re the one who needs it.”

  I stood there in silence. No matter what had happened between the two of us, we’d traveled a long road together. There were a lot of memories. Some of them bad, but some of them good.

  “Bye, Sloane.”

  “Bye, Jack,” she said softly, right before she hung up.

  And that was it.

  166

  Sloane

  When I hung up with Jack, I swear, I was a little choked up. He was an idiot sometimes, like when he went off on his dumbass crusade to clean up the Riders – but he was my idiot. Or he used to be, anyway.

  I said a little prayer that he’d make it out okay, then turned around to do business.

  It was a strange sight to behold: a deserted parking lot with Tyler and forty Bastards straddling their bikes on one side, and Dan Peters and thirty squad cars on the other.
>
  Two men on opposing sides of the law. And I’d fucked both of ‘em. Literally and figuratively, I guess you might say.

  As far as the literal part went, hadn’t enjoyed either one. Figuratively, I’d enjoyed myself plenty.

  I thought about all the lackluster sex I’d had to endure and said another prayer for Jack. Come on, now, God – you know losin’ a dick like that’d be a cryin’ shame.

  “Alright, Dan, time to head ‘em up and move ‘em out,” I said as I walked over to his car in the glare of the Harleys’ headlights.

  Dan eyed the Bastards nervously. He knew I was shacking up with Tyler, and considering what we’d done last night, he wasn’t exactly stupid to be sweating right about now.

  “What are you going to do?” Dan asked.

  “We’ll play backstop,” I said. “While you run in and grab the meth, we’ll hang back and wait. If they run for it, we’ll be there to mop up.”

  “About the money – ”

  I’d flashed the cash last night, but I hadn’t let him get his grubby little hands on it.

  “Unh-unh-unhhh, money afterwards. I pay on delivery, buddy.”

  “But – ”

  “Don’t be greedy. I already gave you a taste of the good stuff.”

  His eyes dropped to my rack. He just couldn’t help himself.

  “…alright,” he said, before looking nervously at the Bastards.

  “Go on, now. Git,” I said. “Time to get this show on the road.”

  He got in the car.

  “Will I see you again soon?” he whispered – like Tyler had Bionic Man hearin’ or somethin’.

  “Get Momma her stash, an’ we’ll hook up again real quick,” I purred with a wink.

  He grinned like a damn fool, cranked the engine, and tore off. All the other squad cars peeled out after him.

  “Jackass,” I muttered under my breath as I waved.