Dark Vow (Dark Saints MC Book 1)

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Dark Vow (Dark Saints MC Book 1) Page 7

by Jayne Blue


  One heartbeat. Two. I could crush Jed’s windpipe and end Addie Byron’s troubles forever. She didn’t deserve this fuckhead. He’d had this coming for a long damn time.

  “Axle!” Only Chase’s grip on my arm started to pull me back from the brink. My pulse started to quicken and spots swam in front of my eyes. I suppose they did for Jed too. A vein bulged in his temple and the white of his left eye filled with blood as a capillary burst.

  I loosened my grip on Jed and let his feet fall to the floor. He doubled over, coughing. A thick line of spit ran from his bottom lip all the way to the ground. He took one staggering step sideways then puked in the corner.

  “We clear now, Jed?” I said, side-stepping the mess he’d made on the floor. He put a defensive palm up. I got closer so my boots filled his vision where he looked at the floor. Finally, he got himself together enough to stand upright. Wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, he nodded.

  “Wait here. Jesus. Just give me a second.”

  Still retching, Jed moved around to the desk in the corner of his office. He ran a shitty tattoo parlor as a front for his main business. Jed Byron was a bookie with an appetite for girls and guns and thumping his wife. He pulled a metal lockbox out of one of the desk drawers and counted out two thick wads of cash. Tossing it to Chase, Jed flopped into his chair, still trying to catch his breath. Chase counted the cash and gave me a quick nod.

  “We’re good,” Chase said. “This time.”

  “You hear that?” I said. “You’ve got Chase pissed now too, Jed. You’re on a roll.”

  “Just take it,” Jed said. “Tell Bear we’re on the same page.”

  “Well, I sincerely hope we are, Jed. Because I’m getting sick of having this same conversation week in and week out. If you don’t have the stomach for this business, you might want to think about a career change.”

  Sweat rolled down Jed’s temple. He wore a ridiculous Hawaiian shirt and a diamond stud in his left ear. Chances were he took even that from Addie. She’d have been better off staying with Chase. But sweet as she was, Addie was needy. It made her easy prey for a d-bag like Jed.

  “Now, you gotta go. I’ve got a full house in the front parlor,” Jed said. “It’s bad for business you being back here.”

  Chase laughed. “You serious, man? I’ve seen your work. If one of your customers thinks you inked one of us, that’s good for you. Now, I personally wouldn’t be caught dead out there.”

  “Fuck you, Chase,” Jed said, getting bolder. It had to sting knowing Addie had been with Chase first. Plus, with all of his other faults, Jed was a dope fiend. My guess, whatever he’d taken just before we got here was starting to kick in and make him brave.

  Chase made a move toward him and this time it was my turn to hold him back.

  “We’re done here,” I said. “For now. But do us all a favor and keep your shit straight, Jed.”

  Jed put up a hand in surrender. Chase made a move toward the back door. I took a step that way but turned back. As Jed rose to his feet, I landed a blow straight across his nose. Blood poured down his face and stained his fucking Hawaiian shirt.

  “That’s for Addie,” I said. “Next time I see a mark on her, you can count on getting double from me.”

  Chase was still laughing as we headed out of Jed’s office and into the light.

  Chapter 9

  Axle

  Things went from bad to worse when we made the turn into the clubhouse. I saw Junior DiSalvo’s silver Mercedes pull out, tires screeching.

  “What the fuck do you suppose that shit’s about?” Chase asked, pulling off his helmet.

  “Nothing good,” I said. My stomach turned. It had been three days since I last saw Maya. I had a pickup out at Cups tomorrow night. About a dozen times I’d stopped myself from showing up at her apartment. I couldn’t get that girl out of my mind.

  Seeing Junior here at the clubhouse just reminded me how badly I wanted to get her away from that creep. He was fifty times worse than Jed Byron. For the most part, Jed could only fuck things up for himself and maybe Addie. Junior DiSalvo’s blast radius was a hell of a lot wider.

  Bear was standing in the doorway when we got to it, looking grim. Over his shoulder, Mama stood with her arms crossed in front of her. She looked pissed, staring daggers at his back.

  “Glad you’re back,” Bear said. “We’ve got church.”

  Chase shot me a look. I ran a hand through my hair and walked in after him. The rest of the membership was already seated around the table except for E.Z. He’d taken a couple of the prospects up the coast to scout some property.

  Of the guys at the table, half of them looked like they’d just shit glass. Zig Wallace, our club secretary, couldn’t even sit. He paced behind his chair as Bear picked up the gavel.

  “Listen,” he started. “I’m gonna cut right to it so we can get Axle and Chase up to speed.”

  “Yeah,” Chase said. “Things were a little tense with Jed Byron. It’s handled but it’s something we should maybe put to the membership.”

  Bear raised a hand to silence him. Deep lines furrowed his brow and he sat back in his chair, running a hand across his beard. I got a sick feeling low in my gut. Junior’s recent presence didn’t make things any better.

  “Later,” Bear said. “We’ve had kind of an emergency pop up.”

  “What’d he do?” I said, leveling a hard stare at Bear. Bear leaned forward; clenching two fists he slammed them to the table.

  “Junior DiSalvo’s got himself in a jam. It’s the kind of thing that could cause some blowback if we don’t make sure it gets handled.”

  My vision clouded. Red rage settled low in my gut. I didn’t want to hear what Bear had to say next. Fucking Junior.

  “What’s he done?” Chase asked. Zig slammed his fist against the back of his chair, toppling it.

  “Sit your ass down, Zig,” Bear said. “This little shit storm is gonna get a lot worse if you guys can’t keep your heads about it. It’s a problem, but if we act fast, we can contain it.”

  Benz stood up and went over to Zig. He whispered something in Zig’s ear and got him to sit, at least. Then Benz shot me a look. He probably knew me better than any other member sitting at this table since we patched in the same week, over a decade ago.

  “Bear,” I said, my tone sharper than was probably wise. I couldn’t help it. For weeks I’d had a bad feeling about Junior DiSalvo. I’d warned Bear and the others that something was going to go sideways where he was concerned. By the look on Bear’s face, it was bad. Real bad.

  “He let personal shit interfere with business,” Bear said. “I don’t know if you caught the news today, but a body washed up by the pier. It’s one of Junior’s guys. Cory Kline.”

  I let my hand drop to the table. Cory was a dickhead, but he sure as hell didn’t deserve to get caught up in whatever shit Junior pulled.

  “What the fuck happened?” I asked.

  “Junior happened,” Benz, our Sergeant at Arms, answered. “It’s a good thing you weren’t here, Axle. You’d have smashed that little shit’s face in. He sat down right in front of us, bawling his head off. He stabbed the kid. Do you believe that? Stabbed him in the back alley of Cups, for fuck’s sake. On his own fucking property.”

  I dropped my head. Shit. This wasn’t just a mess, it was a nuclear bomb.

  “Who knows?” I asked.

  “He already took care of the security cameras,” Bear said.

  “He dump the body himself?”

  “Obviously,” Kade answered. He got out of his chair and started pacing the way Benz had a minute ago. “Fucking genius, that guy.”

  “So what the fuck does he want from us?”

  “Protection,” Bear said. “No different than always. We gotta keep our ears to the ground with the Port Az P.D. So far, they think it’s a drug deal gone bad. One blessing, Cory Kline was up to his ears in that shit.”

  “’Roids,” I said.

  “You got it,” Bear a
nswered. “Assuming Junior’s telling the truth about the aftermath, we should be able to steer the heat away from him.”

  “Why should we bother?” I asked. “Maybe this is a two-birds-with-one-stone kind of deal. Let Junior twist for his own shit. Get him out of the way.”

  Bear slammed his fist against the table. “Because shit is still too precarious with the DiSalvos. Junior’s weak. If the cops close in on him, he can’t be trusted to keep his mouth shut. If we make any move against him now, then I’ll have his old lady to contend with. We gotta play this smart. Believe me, this shit makes me just as sick as it does you, but there’s a bigger picture, Axle. And I’m sorry that the worst of it is going to fall on you, but that’s the way it is.”

  I shook my head and let out a hard breath. “I get it, Bear. I’m not looking to shirk my responsibility. You know you can count on me to handle this however you see fit. Like you said, Junior’s a shitbird, but for now he’s a necessary shitbird.”

  “Well.” Bear leaned back. “I’m glad you can see clearly on that. Because it gets worse.”

  Kade swore under his breath. I didn’t like the look that passed between him and Bear. A large brown envelope sat on the table next to Bear’s left hand. He picked it up and opened the tab on it. I couldn’t make out the details from where I sat, but Bear pulled out an 8X10 black-and-white photograph.

  “I said Junior took care of the footage from the security cameras. I didn’t say what he found on them before he did that. There was a witness.”

  Bile rose in my throat. I didn’t like where this shit was going one bit.

  “Mother fucker.” This came from Zig. Benz dropped his fist to the table. On the other end of the table, Deacon looked about ready to pop a vein in his neck.

  Bear flipped the photo over face-down and slid it across the table to me.

  “You gotta be kidding me,” I said, unable to bring myself to turn the photo over. “It’s bad enough that idiot offed Cory Kline on his own property and under a goddam camera. You’re telling me he did it in front of somebody. Now we gotta deal with this unlucky asshole?”

  “Not we,” Bear said. “You.”

  I rubbed my chin with my thumb and fingered the edges of the photo with my other hand. “Goddammit, Bear.”

  “Axle, I know. I don’t like it anymore than you do. But we can’t risk Junior getting snatched up. He goes down, he’s gonna take us with him. Long term, it’s time to think of another solution where the DiSalvos are concerned. For now, we gotta play the hand we’ve been dealt. Shitty as that may be.”

  “He’s sure this poor prick saw something?” I tapped my fingers on the back of the photo.

  “I saw the security footage. There’s no doubt. They’ve already gone to the locals about it. This morning right after the news hit. Thank God, somebody friendly to us took the statement and gave me a heads-up just before Junior got here.”

  “Jesus.” I knew what that meant. This had already gone beyond me being able to just scare the shit out of the witness. I was going to have to take them out. Fucking Junior.

  “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you, time is of the essence here, Axle,” Bear said.

  “Yeah.” Slamming my fist against the table one last time, I lifted the corner of the photograph and turned it over.

  My heart dropped to the floor and the air went out of my lungs. There, staring just left of the security camera in the dark alley of Cups, was Maya. Junior DiSalvo’s eyewitness was Maya.

  Chapter 10

  Maya

  “You’re absolutely sure?”

  I’d sat in the same steel chair for the last two hours. Detective Curtis Langley had kind eyes and a round, doughy face. He wore an ill-fitting brown suit and his tie didn’t quite reach his belt over his pot-belly. He’d been nice to me, taking his time with me. As soon as I’d told him what I was here about, he had quietly ushered me into his office in the corner of the police station away from prying eyes or second glances.

  “Yes,” I said again, though the word started to burn in my throat.

  “Miss Ballard.” He leaned back in his chair. “You’re not from Port Azrael.”

  “I know that. Please, please, don’t give me this speech, Detective. I know what this means.”

  “Do you?”

  Spots swam in front of my eyes. It had been happening ever since Marcus said the words that shifted my world on its axis. Cory Kline was dead. Dead. I couldn’t stop seeing his swollen face as he took blow after blow from Junior DiSalvo.

  “Look,” I said. “I’m sure. What I’m not sure about is whether Cory was alive when I left that alley. I think he was, but I don’t know. I didn’t check on him. I wish I could go back in time and be sure. I think that’s what’s going to haunt me for the rest of my life.”

  Detective Langley reached across the desk and put a paternal hand over mine. “Don’t beat yourself up. You did the right thing. Staying out of that fight was the right thing. Coming here as soon as you heard was the right thing. The rest of it isn’t up to you.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek to keep the tears that had been threatening to bubble up at bay. I could not, would not fall apart now. I had to see this through.

  “Thanks,” I said. “And that’s really all I remember. It’s been a long day and I’d like to go home.”

  Detective Langley let go of me and sat back again. “Sure. It’s just, I need you to be real careful, Miss Ballard. And I need to be sure you really are sure. Gino DiSalvo, Jr. has ... well ... he’s not without resources in this town. Did you know the FBI investigated his father for years? I’m not privy to the goings-on involving his son. But it’s just best to be careful.”

  “Careful of what?” My blood pressure shot up again, making my head pound. I was tired, hungry, and feeling light-headed.

  Langley spread his hands on the table. He shot me another kind smile and tilted his head to the side. “I just don’t recommend you discuss this with anyone else. Not your friends, family, certainly nobody at that bar.”

  That bar. The pounding in my head intensified. Cups. Langley didn’t have to say it. It was folded up in the decision I made to walk into this police station and tell them what I knew about Cory Kline’s apparent last night on earth. No matter what happened, I was likely out of a job. God forbid if Junior or any of the others found out that I’d gone to the police. That was the worst of it. But I couldn’t go back there. Not ever. Maybe Junior hadn’t been involved with whatever happened to Cory in the end. I prayed he wasn’t. I just could never be sure about him again.

  “What are you going to do now?” Langley asked. Maybe he was just good at his job, but it felt like he was reading my damn mind and it unsettled me.

  “I don’t know.” It was an honest answer. It hadn’t fully sunk in yet, but I’d just blown up my life. Whether he killed Cory or not, rage rose within me for Junior DiSalvo. I’m not proud to admit it, but I wanted him to pay one way or the other for what he’d done. I just couldn’t stomach ever looking at him again let alone taking a paycheck from him. I’d never find another job that paid as well as Cups. I had about two months’ rent saved up, then I wouldn’t be able to afford my apartment anymore.

  “Why don’t you let me arrange for someone to take you home?”

  I shook my head and started to rise. “No. Thank you, but no. I’ll manage. If we’re done here, I’d like to leave. I’m worn out.”

  “Of course.” Langley got to his feet and stepped around his desk. “At least let me walk you out.”

  I thanked him. I started down the long hallway toward the bullpen and lobby and the front exit. Langley caught me gently by the arm and steered me in the other direction.

  “This way,” he said. “There’s a back entrance. It’s quieter. It leads right out to the bus stop.”

  His eyes flickered with what I read as nervous tension. It unsettled me. Either he was just legitimately trying to be nice, or Detective Langley was worried someone might see me leaving. It was in m
e to ask him if my fears were warranted, but my mind just couldn’t process any more for one evening. I let him lead me to the back entrance and out to the employee parking lot. Rows of black-and-white patrol cars lined the lot. Langley pointed to a gate in the northwest corner.

  “Through there and half a block to your right. Though I really would prefer it if you let me drive you home.”

  I put up a hand. “No. I’m fine. Really. I’m going to go home and try to get some sleep.”

  “Good plan. I think this won’t seem so daunting after a good night’s sleep, Miss Ballard. In the meantime, will you at least take my card? If you think of anything or remember anything else you think might be helpful, call me. If you need anything, call me.”

  I took his card and slipped it into my purse. He walked me to the northwest gate and stepped outside so he could see me as I headed toward the bus stop. Waving, I thanked him again and headed down the block. As I looked over my shoulder, Langley stood there with his hands on his hips, watching. He waited until the bus pulled up and I got on.

  It was when I finally sank into the soft red leather seat two rows behind the driver that I quietly fell apart.

  The battery on my phone had long since died when I finally made it into my apartment. Gordon didn’t even bother to wake as I flicked on the lights and plopped onto the couch. My feet hurt. My back hurt. A thin sheen of sweat covered me. After unlacing my tennis shoes and kicking them off, I buried my face in my hands and let the horror of the day fully wash over me.

  Cory was dead. I didn’t know for sure whether Junior DiSalvo killed him, but my gut told me he had. I’d seen the look in his eyes as he hurt Cory. They were cold, dead, filled with evil that made me shudder even now.

  Port Azrael was supposed to be my escape. Right now, it felt like a nightmare.

  Heading into the bathroom, I peeled off my Cups uniform probably for the very last time and stepped into the shower. I wished I could wash away the last two days. I let the water run nearly hot enough to scald me, as if I needed my outsides to match the chaos I felt inside.

 

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