by West, Naomi
Fuck, she liked it rough, though. I wore the scratches on my back from her fingernails like badges of honor for days after we’d had sex. They were the only reminder I allowed myself to have from one of the best nights of my life. Though, considering we spent every day standing in the same spot where I’d taken her, it was difficult to stay on track at work.
Cameron and I had already been driving for several miles and we still hadn’t reached the warehouse. He’d said that it was only a little ways out of town, but as far as I could tell, we weren’t anywhere close. Cameron was riding his own bike up ahead, leading me down the abandoned dirt road. I would never tell him in so many words, but I was endlessly grateful for Cameron being there. I didn’t know if I’d be able to face Garcia alone.
Daria had been right when she said that this would be a dangerous mission today, though Cameron had been quick to reassure her. Garcia was merciless and did things his own way. I’d never met him but from what I’d been told, he had a heinous laugh that could make the bravest of men piss themselves.
He was becoming a ghost story in Springville, even young children in the street knowing about him.
We just passed the ‘Welcome to Springville’ sign at the outpost of town when Cameron signaled to me with a hand in the air. He gestured to the right and at first I was confused, until Cameron suddenly veered off road onto a barely-there trail off the main road. A mile or so after that, we finally reached the warehouse we were meeting him at.
It was massive, run down warehouse, a good base of operations if that’s what Garcia was planning to do with it.
There were three bikes already parked out front so I knew this was the right place. Cameron and I both got of our bikes and I made my way toward the entrance, only to be stopped by my uncle’s hand grasping at my upper arm.
“Keep your cool, okay?” Cameron warned. “I don’t need your temper getting in the way. Understood?”
As far as pep talks went, I wasn’t really a fan. I knew this was Cameron as president talking and not Cameron as my uncle so I didn’t take it to heart as I might have done. Instead, I nodded in the affirmative and pulled my arm out of his grip.
I understood what he was saying but that didn’t mean I had to like it.
This time, as I made my way to enter, I was met with no resistance and I pushed open the solid wooden door that swung back with an eerie creak. If Daria was with me and it was the middle of the night, she would insist that we were on the set of some horror movie and an axe murderer would come out at any moment.
There was no axe murderer inside, just Garcia standing casually with two of his goons. He turned to us after hearing the door open. I’d never met Garcia before but I had seen him once before, years ago, but he looked the same; same shiny bald head, dark furrowed brows, and wearing a perfectly tailored suit that seemed out of place standing in a place like this.
“Boys,” he greeted, spreading his arms wide upon our entry. “Cameron Weston,” he stretched out a hand to Cameron who grabbed it in a firm shake.
“This is my nephew, Rocky Weston,” Cameron said, gesturing at me. “He’s the son of Billy Weston.”
This seemed to pique his interest and Garcia raised a brow, turning to one of his goons and muttering something in Spanish.
When he turned back to us, he had a Cheshire cat smile etched on his face. “What can I do for you, Rocky Weston?” He drew my name out at the end in a way that gave me chills.
“He wants revenge on Jason Steele. We both do.” Cameron again. I had the strong urge to interrupt and say that I could speak for myself, but I supposed that’s what Cameron meant when he’d told me to keep a cool head. As much as I resent it, maybe he didn’t trust me enough yet.
“And you thought I’d help you, Cameron?” Garcia began a slow walk around us, circling us like we were prey, which in a sense we were.
“I know you would. For a price.”
Garcia cackled loudly and clapped his hands together. He stopped his circling and yelled something else in Spanish to one of his guys who released an equally distressing cackle.
Maybe we should have listened to Daria and brought some more men. We were outnumbered, three to two, and it would’ve been nice to have one more man to even things out.
“You know me too well,” Garcia said, rubbing his hands together in interest and staring Cameron down.
I was under the impression that my uncle had never met with Garcia before, but I sensed an odd form of familiarity between them. It was stupid to think that way though, Cameron was probably just involved in a deal between Garcia and the club. I pushed it out of my mind, but I reminded myself to ask my uncle about it later.
“So, you want me to take out Steele?” Garcia confirmed.
“Yes.” I answered this time. “We have a plan if you're willing to help us.”
Garcia let out another cackle. “So, baby Weston thinks he’s got a plan? Okay, I’ll play.”
I ground my teeth in frustration but moved on.
Keep a cool head, keep a cool head, I chanted to myself in the hopes of it actually working.
“The plan is that I will spend the next few weeks staking out Steele. I’ll monitor all his movements, everywhere he goes, people he meets. I’ll report all this information back to you. When we figure out the perfect time for a hit, I’ll pass on the intel and you can take it from there.”
“Seems simple enough,” he nodded casually.
“So, you’ll do it?” I perked up. Surely it couldn’t be that easy.
“Yes. But I have a condition.”
“Here we go,” Cameron muttered.
Damn, just when I thought things were going well. There was no telling what he’d ask us to do. Money I could deal with, but somehow, I knew it would never be that simple.
Garcia turned back to his men and started speaking in Spanish once more, either translating what we were saying or discussing plans so we wouldn’t listen. I was really starting to regret not taking Spanish in high school.
“Okay. I will do it. But only if the Satan’s Wings will work exclusively for my cartel.”
“What?” I sputtered. “Fuck no.”
“Careful, baby Weston. I’m doing you a favor.” I backtracked immediately and held up both hands, palms out.
Cameron was being strangely silent, something I didn’t appreciate at all. I walked over to him until we were almost nose-to-nose.
“I think we should do it,” Cameron said quietly.
“You can’t be serious!” I whisper yelled. “He’ll own us. He’ll own the club.”
My uncle scoffed. “No, he won’t. Don’t be ridiculous, Rocky.”
“They’re our men. This whole plan was because you wanted to avoid a war and make sure the club wasn’t at risk.”
Cameron lifted a hand and placed it at the back of my neck, drawing me close to him so that he could whisper in my ear.
“Make no mistake, Rocky,” he said coldly. “They are my men. I am President, and I’ll be deciding this.”
He released me roughly and continued. “You can’t have it both ways, Rocky. Either we agree to do this and risk the lives of my men, or we do it alone, cause a war, and risk the lives of my men.”
I felt my anger rise to the surface once more and struggled to push it down. Now wasn’t the time.
The way he said it made it seem like this was our only choice, but could I live with that? Knowing that I was the reason the club would be forced to answer to the likes of Garcia. We didn’t know his plans or his end goal. All we knew was that one day we’d be forced to listen when he said jump.
“The club will do whatever it takes to get back at Steele. Billy was the president, they’ll understand.”
Sometimes I wondered if I knew my uncle at all, especially at times like this when he was so cold. Was this how my dad made deals too? Calculating the risks and deciding the path, no matter whose lives could be in danger?
“Trust me,” Cameron said. That was the real issue, wasn�
��t it? Trust. And I trusted my uncle explicitly.
“Fine,” I agreed.
Turning back to Garcia, Cameron announced, “We have a deal.
“But only after Steele is dead,” I interjected. No way was I willing to do anything until he held up his side of the bargain.
“Deal,” Garcia held a hand out and I reached out and shook it with disgust. I couldn’t help but feel like I’d just made a deal with the devil.
Cameron and I walked out of the warehouse in silence. I was still processing what had happened, but I knew Cameron was angry.
“You had one thing to do,” he said sharply. “Just keep your temper. Next time we won’t be so lucky.”
###
The ride back home seemed longer. Cameron had sped off ahead to go home and he was now completely out of sight. I was taking my time, though I knew I’d promised Daria I would hurry back so she didn’t worry.
I closed my eyes against the wind as I coasted along the abandoned road. I couldn’t picture my father’s face at that moment. I tried and I tried, but the details were becoming blurrier with every day. Sometimes I would try and think of him, but see Cameron’s face instead. I wondered if my uncle ever regretted looking so much like his brother.
The sound of a blaring horn jolted my eyes open and I swerved sharply away from the oncoming car. I hadn’t even realized I’d drifted onto the other side of the road, though it was empty enough that I probably wouldn’t have cared if it weren’t for that one car.
I supposed this was what my uncle and Daria always complained about when they called me reckless.
Daria. I could picture her perfectly in my mind’s eyes, without even closing my eyes. She said she’d be waiting for me in the shop, though I’d told her that she should be working. I knew I’d come back and find nothing done and her chastising me for taking my sweet ass time to get back home.
Be safe.
She was probably worried sick by now, it was almost dark. With a groan, I raced down the road to the shop, hoping she wouldn’t shoot me when I arrived.
Chapter Fifteen
Daria
I paced back and forth in Rocky’s workshop, unable to do anything other than let every possible worst-case scenario run through my head. What if he was hurt? What if Garcia didn’t really want to talk at all?
Rocky had given me instructions before he left to continue work as usual and that he’d be home in no time. Of course, as soon as I stepped into the shop I was bombarded with thoughts of Rocky. The whole place was a reminder of him, how could he possibly think that I could do my work and wait for him comfortably?
It had been hours since Rocky and Cameron had left for an abandoned warehouse in the middle of nowhere. Rocky had even confessed that he didn’t know where it was. What if he was lost, dying of heat stroke? I didn’t even know how far away the warehouse was so I couldn’t even guess at the time that he would be back.
Surely a phone call wasn’t too much to ask for. I didn’t even know why I was so worried. After all, he was just my boss.
I shook my head. Even the thought of it felt wrong. Rocky wasn’t anymore my boss than my own mother. He treated me like a colleague if anything, but mostly he treated me like a friend. Though, I supposed one didn’t usually have wild sex with a friend or colleague.
It was hard to admit, but I was scared out of my mind. Rocky was impulsive and so focused on revenge that I was worried he would do something irrational. My only consolation was that he was with his uncle, and if Cameron was nothing else, he was calculating. I knew there was no way Cameron could walk into any situation without at least three exit plans in his head in case things hit the fan.
I continued pacing, alternating between throwing looks at the clock and at the door. If he didn’t come home in the next ten minutes I was fully prepared to call the cops and tell them he’d died.
Luckily, at that moment the front door of the shop swung open and caused my head to snap in its direction, praying it wasn’t a customer. Rocky swaggered in, looking unharmed and well … alive.
“Rocky!” I cried. I sprinted towards him and jumped into the air, knowing he’d catch me, and he did. I wrapped all four limbs around his body, forcing his hands to come under my ass to support me. Not even thinking, I bent my head and crushed my lips to his, almost bruising them with my ferocity.
I was so glad he was home.
A moment later, the reality of the situation hit me and I hurriedly pushed myself away from him, turning from him shyly. I felt my cheeks flush red with embarrassment and started mentally chastising myself. I wouldn’t be able to meet his eyes after this, not after I completely and literally threw myself at him. What had come over me? Well I knew exactly what it was, but I should’ve kept it under control. I’d always accused Rocky of being impulsive, but then I went and threw myself at him. I snuck a look at Rocky and he seemed to be just as shocked as me. Or even more so, based on his expression.
“How did it go?” I asked, in an attempt to change the subject.
“It was fine. Garcia is on board. He said he’d follow our plan and help take Steele out.”
That seemed great news to me, especially since Rocky had been hoping for something like this for months. He seemed unhappy about it, though. There was definitely something he wasn’t telling me. He wasn’t completely meeting my eyes, they were flicking about around the room as if he didn’t want to look at me.
“Are you sure you can even trust him?” I asked. I already knew the answer. How could you ever trust someone like Garcia? From what I knew about him, he was violent, cruel and slippery. I was beginning to question Cameron’s sanity despite knowing that he knew what he was doing.
“No. I have no idea if we’ll be able to trust him. But you heard Cameron, he’s our best shot – actually, our only shot – if we don’t want to go to war with the Nightmare MC.”
I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that we were talking about an all-out war between bikers like it was nothing. What had I gotten myself into? All the rules and club politics were beginning to spin around in my head. I hadn’t even met many people from the club yet except for Michael. The problem was that I was involved, without truly being in the club, a strange middle territory that didn’t really make sense to me.
If there was anyone I could talk about it to it would be my mother, except I knew she didn’t really approve of my life decisions recently. I couldn’t blame her, especially when I’d promised I would listen to her, but at the same time I longed for her advice and wisdom.
Rocky sat down on a nearby chair and placed his head in his hands, elbows on knees. He was still worried about something, and I hadn’t correctly guessed it yet. Sometimes, I wished he could just tell me what troubled him without any coercion.
I racked my brain, searching and searching until I came to a conclusion. “Did he ask for anything in return?”
Rocky closed his eyes and nodded once. Bingo! I knew immediately that this was the issue and why he’d been holding back until now. I wondered what Garcia had wanted?
I didn’t have to wonder for long before he blurted it out. “He wants the club to work exclusively for him.”
I frowned and began thinking on it. Honestly, that kind of deal wasn’t one that surprised me, especially when I thought about what else he could have asked for. And the club had made deals with him before; this would just be an extension of that. I assumed that Cameron had thought it through and decided the risk was worth it. He was constantly saying how important it was to avoid a war and protect the people in the club, so I was sure he didn’t make the decision lightly.
I understood why Rocky was feeling guilty, though. In all his plans for revenge, I was sure that he assumed the weight of it would rest on his shoulders alone and he wouldn’t have to rely on anyone, save perhaps Cameron. Now he was finding out that Garcia was planning to ruin all that. In his head, he was probably thinking that he was failing his father, allowing the club to be caught up in something dangerous j
ust so he could get his revenge. I also knew that he was far too invested and set in his ways to ever back out of the plan. He would avenge his father no matter what.
“So, when’s he organizing the hit?” I asked.
“A few weeks. I need to stake out Steele for the next few weeks, find the perfect time and place for the hit. When I know that, I’ll feed the intel to Garcia and he’ll go from there.”
That sounded like a bad idea to me, although I knew next to nothing about stakeouts. I just imagined him getting caught, unaware and defenceless, with nobody to call on for back up.
“Are you going on your own?”
