The Sinner Within (L.A. Sinners MC Book 1)

by J. L. Leslie

  “Yes, ma’am,” I answer her.

  “I thought we had a plan already. What’s the problem?”

  “To be honest, I don’t know how I feel about him. He’s intense and overwhelming, and I’m not sure that the plan will work. I just don’t have the experience needed for this and‒”

  “And no matter what he says, he killed Gavin,” she says, bluntly. “That’s something you should never forget. Any time you think you’re starting to have feelings for him, picture Gavin’s burned body in your mind. Smell his burned flesh in your nostrils. Hear his screams in your ears. Then you’ll know what you have to do.”

  I nod and thank her. When it’s put like that, the decision is pretty fucking simple.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Lucien

  One job down, three to go. I’m really limited on time now. I’ve been doing recon on the other three jobs the past few days, and now it’s Wednesday. I have three days to deliver, and I need to get them done to get the fucking bonus on them.

  The woman was a fucking easy kill, just like I knew she would be. I walked into that sleazy ass motel with a ski mask on and shot her in the damn face. I almost feel remorse, but I’m a cold motherfucker. Remorse for jobs like those went away a long ass time ago.

  It was messy, her brains splattered on the wall behind her, but I left her there and called it in to Suggs. I haven’t thought about it since. I should be asking myself why killing that woman doesn’t bother me, but I learned how to close those feelings of guilt off a long time ago.

  My first kill for the Sinners was right before my nineteenth birthday. I was still a prospect and desperate to earn my cut. I would’ve done anything for them. In my case, it meant deception and murder.

  Date the mayor’s daughter and when I fucked her good, had her believing we were going to live happily ever after, kill her. The mayor was on our payroll, and he wasn’t doing his job. Thing is, when you get close to someone, even when you’re pretending, it feels real.

  I hated killing her, but I loved the way the Sinners welcomed me like I was one of their own. I was no longer a wannabe. I was one of them. Now, thinking of her innocence and how I ruined that reminds me of Harper.

  I also haven’t seen Harper since Sunday, and I’m pretty sure she thinks I’m ghosting her although I texted her last night. She never responded. So, I’m making it a point to show her I’m not leaving her without a word.

  I’m waiting outside the diner to take her home after her shift ends. It hasn’t been too difficult to learn her schedule. She pretty much works ten p.m. to six a.m. most nights. Sometimes she works two p.m. to ten p.m. Both of them are shitty shifts, but what can I do about it?

  Occasionally, she comes back and works noon to three and then she goes to pick up Layla from school. I know that doesn’t allow her much time to sleep or really do anything. If it were up to me, she would not be working at that damn diner.

  “Wow, what a surprise,” she says when she spots me waiting outside. “I thought you had club business.”

  “I still do, but I told you I missed you.”

  And I did. Like I said, she never responded to that text.

  She gives me a quick peck, leaving me wanting a little more before she takes her helmet and climbs on behind me. I wait until she has it strapped on before I take off. The ride to her house is a short one, and she’s climbing off almost as quickly as she climbed on.

  I walk her to her porch, noticing this awkward silence between us. I open my mouth to say something, anything to get back to where we were prior to Sunday, and her door opens. A petite brunette walks out, her sharp gaze drifting to me.

  “You must be the infamous Lucien,” she observes, and Harper glares at her. “I’m Mackenzie, her neighbor, and best friend.”

  Mackenzie? I immediately wonder if this is the same Mackenzie who works for the DEA but brush the thought aside. It’s probably just a coincidence.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mackenzie.” I extend my hand, and she shakes it.

  “So, is this what your relationship is going to be with my friend?” she questions me and Harper’s face flames red. “You just going to pick her up and take her to work here and there or are you actually going to take her on an official date sometime?”

  “We have gone to lunch,” Harper defends.

  “Oh, wow, you went to lunch,” Mackenzie says, dryly. “I go to fucking lunch with my co-workers, Harper.”

  I chuckle, amused by how candid she is. “If I’m going to take Harper on a date, perhaps we should make it a double. I know just the guy for you.”

  This catches her off guard, and I like that. If she wants to pop off at the mouth, she should be prepared for what others might say back to her. I’m not the one to take any shit from her. I can dish it out too.

  “Well, that’s not necessary, Lucien. Just make sure you take my girl here somewhere nice. I don’t need any help finding a date.”

  I don’t take no for an answer though, and I can see Harper trying to hide her smile. “I believe it is necessary, Mackenzie. What kind of man would I be if I didn’t make sure my woman’s best friend liked me? I’ll see you two tonight at six. Harper, will you be able to get a babysitter?”

  She smiles while Mackenzie rolls her eyes. “Yes, I should be able to.”

  “Good,” I grin. “I’ll take the two of you somewhere nice.”

  Now, I just have to convince Warren to go on a double date. That way, he can at least tell me if this woman is the one who works for the DEA or not and he can also help me kill the chef at the restaurant we’ll be going to.

  I can kill two birds with one fucking stone.

  Harper

  I stand in front of my mirror, smoothing my skirt down and adjusting my boobs. It doesn’t matter what kind of bra I wear ‒ on the occasion that I actually put one on ‒ I don’t get much bigger than an A-cup. This dress makes them look like a B-cup though.

  “I can’t fucking believe you,” Mackenzie mutters, walking into my room looking like she’s ready to bring a man to his knees. “By the way, red is definitely your color.”

  “Thank you.”

  Her sleeveless, black dress is a shimmery material that dips low in the front with a high back and hugs to her curves. She’s petite, but her body is a lot more toned and curvier than mine. I’m slim and nearly flat-chested.

  Mackenzie also has shoulder-length, wavy brown hair that has some lighter streaks through it that looks almost blonde. She has a rose vine tattoo on her right arm and more on her neck and chest. She does well covering them while she’s at work, but she makes no attempt to cover them now.

  I have always thought of getting a tattoo but have never decided on one to get. My skin is ink free, for now.

  “You look gorgeous, if that’s any consolation.”

  “It’s not,” she gripes.

  “Maybe you’ll get laid,” I offer.

  “By some biker? I don’t fucking think so.”

  “Maybe I’ll get laid?”

  She laughs. “Yeah, then kill him after you do. Right after his dick goes limp. Well, unless he can’t get it up.”

  I roll my eyes and step away from the mirror. I go into the living room, and Mackenzie follows after me.

  “Has Lucien said anything to you about this fight coming up on Friday night?” Mackenzie asks me, and I shake my head. “Are we still going?”

  “I’m planning on it. You still in?”

  “Fuck yes,” she laughs.

  I laugh at her enthusiasm. It doesn’t surprise me that she’s jumping at the chance to watch men beat each other half to death. If she thought she could kill a man with her bare hands, she would probably enter.

  “He’s here,” I tell her, hearing him on my porch just before he knocks.

  I open my door, and Lucien stands there in a pair of nice jeans and a light-blue, button-up shirt. No cut. I’m taken aback by how nice he looks. He doesn’t look like a biker, just a normal man. A normal, fucking sexy as hell ma
n.

  His eyes drift over me, taking me in, and practically devouring me. “You look beautiful.”

  There go my nipples, betraying me as usual. I may have to start wearing a bra because of this man.

  “Thank you. You look nice as well.”

  “Did my date decide to wait in the fucking car or something?” Mackenzie interrupts.

  “Um, no, he’s going to take a cab there and ride back with us later. He had some things he had to take care of.”

  “If that isn’t some bullshit.”

  I glance back at her, widening my eyes to tell her to cool it. She huffs and walks past us, going to get in the SUV that Lucien drove over here. It’s a nice red Suburban.

  “Yours?” I ask him when he takes my hand and leads me outside.

  “It belongs to the club.”

  He opens the door for me since Mackenzie has already settled into the backseat. Once he shuts it, I lean over and look at her.

  “Please be nice tonight. This double date could be a good thing for the club.”

  “Yeah, we could take out two Sinners instead of just one.”

  Her bitterness is evident, and I miss the times when she was just carefree and happy. I know one day she’ll be that person again. I see a glimpse of her every now and then.

  Lucien gets in and starts the engine. He smiles over at me, and I sit back and relax, telling myself that we can have a good time tonight. That although I know the end game here, it won’t stop me from enjoying myself while I’m playing it.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Lucien

  As I get out and walk around to let Harper and Mackenzie out, I shoot Warren a text asking him if everything is in place. I smile when he answers that it is. I didn’t really have a doubt.

  I could have asked Reid or Hatcher, fuck, any of the other Sinners to do this job with me, but I chose Warren. Harco could find out if Mackenzie is who we’re looking for at the DEA office, but this was faster, and Warren didn’t hesitate. I knew I could count on him to do what I asked and keep it quiet, but I also believe I can trust him around Harper.

  I escort the two ladies inside Sun Deck and inform the host that our other party is already waiting for us. I spot Warren, and as we get closer, he stands and then pats me on the back, giving me the signal that Mackenzie is indeed the DEA employee.

  She extends her hand to Warren, a smile on her face, but she doesn’t pretend not to know who he is. She is definitely a no bullshit type of woman. I suppose that is why she and Harper are best friends.

  “We’ve already met, Warren Mathis,” she smiles, releasing his hand and taking a seat at the table.

  “You know him?” Harper questions, sitting down beside me. If she recognizes him, she isn’t letting on that she does.

  “Oh yes, he came into my office asking for directions to the courthouse. He was lost,” she explains. “Can you believe it? A man asking for directions.”

  Warren laughs, his gaze set on the pretty brunette. “Yes, it was a complete bruise to my ego. Thank you for your help that day.”

  “I guess you found everything okay?” Mackenzie asks him, and it’s clear she didn’t believe his story then and doesn’t now. Harper and I watch the exchange between the two of them with amusement.

  “I did,” he replies, challenging her to call him out on his bullshit, but she doesn’t.

  “Warren has only recently moved to L.A.” I interject. “Poor fucker doesn’t know where anything is. I’m still trying to get used to things again myself.”

  “Oh? And where is it that you’ve been?” Mackenzie turns her attention to me.

  “Prison,” I answer, truthfully, figuring Harper has already told her anyway.

  Harper places her hand on my thigh, a reassuring comfort that I didn’t realize I needed until I felt her touch. I haven’t been on a date, much less a double date, since I was a teenager. I don’t do this sort of thing. Not ever.

  Yet, here I am sitting with her and two people who obviously can’t stand each other. I’m enduring this because I feel like it’s what she wanted. What she needed.

  I place my hand over hers, giving her comfort back, while I wait for Mackenzie’s questions to continue.

  “That’s right. Harper said you went to prison for killing someone.”

  She gets right to the fucking point. I suppose that doesn’t bother me. I would rather her be outright about everything than beat around the bush. She’s trying to show she’s a good friend to Harper by grilling me.

  “Yes, I was accused of that.”

  She leans back in her chair. “Are you saying you didn’t do it? I thought you were some big, bad biker. Don’t they call you the Revenant or something?”

  She’s goading me. This bitch is sitting here fucking goading me. I’ve had a suspicion for a while now that Harper knows who I am, what I was accused of doing, although she hasn’t said a word. Now, with the way her best friend is acting, I don’t have a doubt. Of course, that doesn’t explain why she’s with me and why she hasn’t asked me about it.

  I killed her old man. The father of her child. At least, that’s what she thinks. Why is she with me then? He’s probably rolling over in his damn grave.

  “I said I was accused of it, not that I was guilty of it.”

  “Men always say they aren’t guilty,” she says. “What’d you do?”

  “I was convicted of burning a man to death.”

  “That’s strange, Harper,” she muses. “Lucien, did you know that Harper lost someone close to her in a fire. Yeah, he burned to death. Shit way to die if you ask me.”

  “I agree,” I reply, glancing over at Harper, but she won’t turn her eyes in my direction. Damn it, if she’ll just look at me then I’ll know for sure. It will confirm my suspicions.

  “So, you get out of prison somehow, which screams narc to me, and then you come back to L.A. and become the president of the Sinners. Is that right?”

  I open my mouth to defend myself further when Warren interrupts. “If you all will excuse me a moment. I need to find the restroom.”

  “You can always stop and ask for directions,” Mackenzie smarts.

  I glance down at where my hand rests on top of Harper’s and I entwine my fingers with hers. I don’t have to remind myself that I’m drawn to this woman, but I do have to remind myself who she is. What was done to her old man. And I need to figure out why she’s drawn to me. What’s in this for her?

  Harper

  “I was a member of the Sinners prior to my incarceration,” Lucien answers Mackenzie. “When I returned, it seemed right to step into the position as president.”

  “What happened to the president they had?”

  I glare at her, but it doesn’t stop her from bombarding him with questions. She played me. She pretended like she didn’t want to come on this date, but it was obviously a ploy to get information for Donia.

  I was stupid to think she was willing to just come and have a good time with us. That club business could be set aside for one night.

  “He made some bad deals, crossed the wrong people, and was killed.”

  His statement gets my attention, instantly making me wonder if this is the guy who set Lucien up. If he’s the one responsible for Gavin’s death.

  “You’re shitting me! He was killed right after you were released,” she replies, pretending to be shocked. “Coincidence or luck?”

  Warren returns to the table, giving Lucien a slight nod as he sits, and I wonder what that exchange was for, but then my attention is brought back to the conversation between Lucien and Mackenzie.

  “I’m going to say both. I didn’t have him killed, but it’s lucky for me he was,” Lucien answers. “I would’ve done the job had I been given the opportunity. He cost me more than his life was worth.”

  Warren seems to catch on to the conversation pretty easily. “That asshole deserved that bullet to his head, but hey, we’re at a nice restaurant. Maybe we should be having a conversation that’s more appropriate.�
��

  “Yes, I agree,” I put in, hoping Mackenzie will cool it.

  The more I listen to Lucien, the more confused I am. Donia’s words still weigh heavily on me, making me want revenge more than anything. Smell his burned flesh in your nostrils. Hear his screams in your ears. But who caused those screams?

  “Okay,” Mackenzie smiles. “What do you do for the club, Warren? You’re a member right?”

  I see his jaw clench. “No, I’m actually a prospect.”

  Like me. We don’t quite have the same respect as members. We run errands they don’t run, like getting supplies and bike maintenance. We’re not trusted with the same jobs that members are. We also don’t get paid as much, which is why I work crappy shifts at the diner.

  “What’s the difference?” Mackenzie asks him, knowing damn well she knows. “Do you have to clean the clubhouse or some shit?”

  “Something like that,” he mumbles, clearly annoyed.

  “Oh, wait, so you’re like an errand boy?” she laughs. “I mean, you sort of look like an errand boy. How old are you?”

  Warrens eyes narrow. “I’m twenty-eight.”

  “Oh, older than you look I suppose.”

  “Mackenzie, come with me to the restroom.”

  I’m a little surprised that she agrees to, knowing that I’m going to chew her ass out when we get in there. She’s being a total bitch! I wait until the door to the restroom closes before I turn to face Mackenzie. I make sure no one else is in the bathroom.

  “Are you fucking kidding me right now? Are you doing this for Hell’s Fury? Because I’m pretty sure you’re giving away who we are!” I fume at her.

  “Me? I haven’t given anything away!”

  “You don’t think so?” I hiss. “You have prodded Lucien on the details of his murder trial, and then you brought up the fact that I lost someone in a fire! I was waiting on you to tell him Layla looks just like her daddy so you could seal the fucking deal!”

  “He hasn’t even seen Layla before!”

  “That’s not the point! He will eventually and then he’ll know who her dead daddy is!”