Sweet Revenge (The Nighthawks MC Book 2)

by Bella Knight

  They went everywhere together for two weeks, then Lily put her foot down, “I have a fucking gun now, you know. I think Mommy Dearest is going to go down when the cops get all the info.”

  She was worried, though. Ace wouldn’t tell her what he had to do, and it had been two weeks. The bitch should have gone down already. Mommy Dearest could have moved evidence, or even destroyed it. How long did it take to nail one, crooked, murdering bitch?

  Surprisingly, she made more money tending bar and waiting tables on a more full-time basis than she had at the insurance company. That didn’t count the extra pay for doing the books and counting the tills. She was paying Ace back for the bike as fast as she could, and convinced him to let her pay the power and water bills since he owned the condo. She found it strange to have money for the first time in her life.

  Lily paid medical and dental, too, so she decided to get her teeth cleaned and a medical checkup on Wednesday morning. She noticed some asshole on a bright red crotch-rocket behind her, then passing her, then behind her again. At first, she thought it was just the ebb and flow of traffic. She did the dental thing, then headed over to the Sweetwater Women’s Medical Center in Charleston. She saw the crotch-rocket again. The guy was wearing black leathers, no logo, no patches, and a red helmet that made him look like an insect. She took some extra turns, and he was still following her. The gun was in her pouch; she didn’t want to be obvious about drawing it or bring it into the doctor’s office. She invented a space nearly at the sidewalk, and went in, slipping her gun into her helmet and taking her helmet with her.

  She did the lady doctor thing and slipped into the restroom on the way out to put the holster on her ankle. She came back out and saw a man in the same leather jacket in the elevator. She took the stairs down, putting on her helmet on the way down and the gun in her jeans pocket. She popped back out and hopped on the bike, putting on speed. Crotch-Rocket went out of the building and ran to his bike. She knew exactly where the police substation was and drove there. She sat in the parking lot, idling, as he drove by. She removed the gun, locked it up along with her helmet, and went in.

  She said to the surprised desk sergeant, “I need to contact the FBI Financial Crimes Unit. You know anyone there?”

  The sergeant grabbed a phone, dialed, and said, “Ma’am, if you could sit down, I’ll have someone from their office come here. It looks like you have a story to tell.”

  “That I do,” she said.

  The financial crimes person from the LVMPD and the FBI woman were of the same type —almost exactly Lily’s height and weight. The FBI woman wore a black suit and the LVMPD woman wore a gray one. They both were Hispanic, with jet-black hair and deep brown eyes, but the LVMPD officer was definitely an Amerindian as well, with a hooked nose and a duskier skin tone.

  The FBI woman introduced herself as Special Agent Guerrero, and the LVMPD woman was Detective Yatzil Hernandez.

  Hernandez got to the point quickly, “Is this about the Nighthawks or the murder?”

  “What murder?” said the FBI woman, Guerrero.

  “Her boyfriend, Mr. Ace Dolan, was a suspect in the murder of his father, Braden Dolan, of Dolan Premiere Construction, but he was cleared. His mother has a subsidiary business, a 3D printing lab, where they print parts used in construction… usually plastic ones, and usually for model or custom homes.”

  “Was a suspect?” Hernandez offered the Special Agent the file.

  “Cleared. He was in a very public place at the time of the murder. This isn’t about the Nighthawks? Some motorcycle club?”

  Lily snorted, “This isn’t Sons of… Anarchy! They have a daycare and are creating a school, for heaven’s sake. You’re looking the wrong way.”

  “I take it you have a direction to look?”

  “Absolutely,” said Lily, “and, if you don’t believe me, some idiot on a crotch-rocket followed me here. You’ll see him in any video you want to check. We wouldn’t be caught dead on a rice rocket, so it wasn’t any of the Nighthawks.”

  “That why you came here?”

  “That, and apparently, whoever the fuck has been investigating the case has either been asleep or very, very slow. The bitch has probably destroyed evidence by now.”

  “The bitch would be Daniel Pierce Dolan, Mr. Braden Dolan’s wife?”

  “Yes,” said Lily, “I can point you in some directions, but I’m not the police or the FBI. I can’t do what you do.”

  “Point away,” said Hernandez. And, Lily did.

  At four thirty pm, she said, “I’m leaving. If you want to go with me to Sonic and talk to me more there, fine, but then I’m going to work.”

  Both women stood, “Nice doing business with you,” said Hernandez.

  “Hold on a minute,” said the FBI agent, “you illegally did credit checks on…”

  Hernandez cut her off, “If you want to prosecute a witness for some piddly stuff, be my guest. It will destroy her credibility on the witness stand. You are willing to testify, aren’t you?”

  “Absolutely!” said Lily.

  “And your friend who got you this information?”

  “I work alone,” said Lily. Hernandez sighed, but let her go.

  Lily swung by Sonic and did the whole honey-buffalo wings, fries, and cherry soda thing, and threw in a mini chocolate sundae. She ate, then swung out to work.

  She put on her ankle holster again, then entered the bar. She took a beer delivery and stocked the bar from the cooler. She smiled to see Ace walk in.

  “Hey,” she said, kissing him.

  He felt the holster brush his leg, “You packing?”

  “Yeah,” she said, “there was this guy on a crotch-rocket following me.”

  “What the fuck?”

  She described the guy following her, up to heading into the police station, “Good idea, Lily,” he said.

  “I hope you got the thing done you were going to do first,” said Lily.

  “What thing?” asked Ace.

  “The thing you said you had to do before we went to the police.”

  Ace’s face turned stony. It was like turning off a switch, “What did you do, Lily?” he asked, in a low voice.

  She told him the whole thing with Hernandez and Guerrero. Ace hadn’t noticed Adam come in with the two dancers, who went off to the locker room.

  Ace looked down at Lily, his eyes hard, “I told you to wait.”

  “Until what?” asked Lily, “the heat death of the universe? It’s been two weeks since the murder!”

  Adam spoke quietly. Ace looked at him out of the corner of his eye, “They were looking at the club,” said Adam, his voice low, “the police getting in our business is bad.”

  “You just screwed up me getting my brother,” said Ace.

  “What the fuck?” said Lily, “how? What were you planning to do? And if it was that important, why didn’t you do it yet?”

  “I was going to blackmail her to sign a paper releasing Keiran into my custody.”

  “Blackmail? Do you get that you could have gone to prison and you would have lost custody anyway?”

  “I’d give the cops the info later. Then, no one would believe her because she’d be in prison. No one listens to killers.”

  “And you told me this, when?” asked Lily, eyes snapping, “either we’re fucking or we’re more than that. Either you trust me or you don’t. Obviously, you don’t. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll run cocktails tonight. Wouldn’t want to interrupt you thinking about doing anything stupid.”

  Ace watched her walk away, his guts in knots.

  “She’s right,” said Ivy, coming up behind Ace.

  “What the fuck! Is it everybody’s job to sneak up on me today?”

  Ivy pointed a finger at Ace’s chest, “First, dumb plan. Sometimes people do listen to killers, especially rich ones. Second, you failed to tell Lily the plan. How was she supposed to know? Does she suddenly read minds? Third, you’ll get custody anyway if Superbitch gets locked up. She’ll
be too busy fighting a murder conviction to care where her son lives, especially since she has the motherhood instincts of a rock. Fourth, Lily could have been killed by Crotch Rocket Guy, and this entire discussion would be a moot point. Now go make the fuck up so we can get Lily behind the bar where she belongs. I’ve got a new girl coming in to do cocktails. Lily’s wasted out there, and you know it.” Ivy turned on her booted heel and walked away.

  “She sure told you,” said Adam.

  Ace looked at his hands. They were shaking. He was so furious he could smash all the bottles and glasses and still want to smash some tables.

  He finally grasped why he wanted to kill things, “She could have been killed today.”

  Adam smiled, “Give the man a prize.”

  He risked patting Ace on the back and turned to help the new cocktail server, a heavily tattooed Goth girl with poofy black hair and scarlet lipstick, who wore black like a second skin over her spider-and-skull tattoos.

  Making Up

  Ace couldn’t dump the anger that night. Or the fear. They were a giant ball. They worked together, but he could tell Lily wanted to kill him, despite his apology. She created a little space around herself, and Ace did the same. They made it through the shift without talking about much except about drinks and trading break times.

  The songs seemed to be talking to Ace, Out Ta Get Me and Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap, heightened his anger, but the slow songs got into his brain, Angel, Sweet Child O’ Mine, and Love Bites. He realized he would never have gotten so angry if he hadn’t been terrified for both his brother and for Lily.

  Lily vanished as the evening wound down to a close, off to do the books in the office. Ivy came out and asked how the new girl was doing.

  Ivy spoke to Ace, “What?”

  “Raven. That’s what she calls herself. Real name’s Ernesta. I’d call myself Raven too. I’d ask Bella and Lily.”

  He looked up, then, from drying glasses, “Is Lily okay?”

  She looked into his panicked eyes, “As well as she can be with a prick of a boyfriend like you,” said Ivy, “tell her you’re scared, dumbass. The fear she knows. You may act like a big bad biker boy, but deep down, we’re all scared of something. Did it ever occur to you that the fear of losing people is, I don’t know… normal?”

  Ace snorted, “Normal has never been in my life.”

  “Not hers, either,” said Ivy, “apologize for real, dumbass, or she’ll run for the border, and I’ll ride with her. You can run this place on your own.” He shuddered, and she laughed.

  The last of the patrons got into a rousing sing-along with, Pour Some Sugar on Me, then the band broke their equipment down.

  “I’ll cover this,” said Bella, counting the till, “dumbass!”

  “Why does everyone keep saying that?” said Ace.

  “If I had to explain it to you, it proves my point,” said Bella, “go apologize, and this time, lick the floor at her feet.”

  Raven arrived with a tray full of glasses and bottles, “Sounds kinky. Can I help?”

  Bella laughed, “Down, tiger!” She took the tray and started washing glasses.

  Ace found Lily in the office, staring at a screen full of numbers, “We’re up from last month,” she said before she realized Ace was talking to her, not Ivy, “where’s Ivy?”

  “Talking to the band,” said Ace, “maybe pouring sugar on them.”

  “What?!” said Lily.

  “Def Leppard humor.”

  “Right.”

  He sat down, elbows on his knees, “I am so sorry. I am fucking scared of losing Keiran, and losing you. I get mad first.”

  “Me too,” said Lily, “only my mad doesn’t just fly away somewhere. I got to feel it. And you kicked me, you know when I was frustrated and tired. Ever talk to the cops for a couple hours in a little room? With no Jolt Cola to take the edge off?”

  “A few times,” said Ace, “they see the jacket and the bike, their brains get stupid.”

  Lily snorted, “Go home alone, slugger. I need time to not kill you.”

  “Not killing me is good. But, someone needs to watch your back, and we’re going to the same place.”

  She grimaced, “Okay. But I am amazing and you are a fucktard!”

  “Agreed. Let’s go to Sonic on the way home. I’ll buy you a cherry thing and an ice cream thing.”

  “Okay,” said Lily, “but you’re still a fucktard!”

  “No,” said Ace, “a dumbass. Every other damn woman in the place has called me a dumbass. Except for Raven.”

  “She’s amazing, isn’t she?” said Lily, “almost as good as me, right out of the gate. If I can get Bella to teach her bar backing, I can teach Bella bartending, and lead up to bookkeeping. And we can take more rides, like to the Grand Canyon and Bryce and whatever damn other canyons there are out there. Maybe see those big trees, the sequoias.”

  “Do that,” said Ace, suddenly exhausted, “I’ve got a bar to close down and, apparently, I have to tell Bella to train Raven.”

  “Won’t take much,” said Lily, “they like each other.”

  “How the fuck do you know that? I mean after one night? Do you have some sort of girly, emotional, x-ray superpowers?”

  Lily laughed, bringing brightness into a place Ace hadn’t known was dark, “Yes, I do. Now, get the fuck out of here and let me work.”

  Ace hustled it out of there.

  They hit up Sonic. Bella, Raven, and even Ivy followed them. Raven had a little scooter, and they razzed her for it. Bella promised to hook her up with a better bike.

  Lily said, “When you learn how to bar back, you can even afford it.”

  Ivy laughed, “Looks like someone is angling for some time off.”

  “More rides, baby. More rides. Gotta see me some ocean.”

  Everybody laughed. They planned a Pacific Coast Highway ride for the summer.

  Raven’s eyes grew big, “Dammit, guys, I won’t be able to save up for a bike that quick.”

  “Don’t worry,” said Bella, “Someone will put you on the back of her bike.

  Ivy and Bella looked into each other’s eyes. Ace hoped this was a kinky thing and not a break-up thing. He said so into Lily’s ear when they got up to throw out the trash.

  “Kinky,” said Lily, “they’d make a good threesome.”

  Ace smiled. Lily elbowed him, “No kinky for you, buddy boy. You’re still in the doghouse.” He smiled behind her back. He knew she was warming back up.

  They split up. Bella and Ivy followed Raven home to be sure she made it home okay, and Lily and Ace went to the condo. They entered, locked up, and shed the leather and boots. Lily was faster and got to the shower first. Ace laughed but didn’t join her, as he figured she would kill him. He used the small shower in the other bathroom.

  He joined her in the bedroom, wearing boxers only, smelling her jasmine shampoo on her hair. She had on a cami and her underwear, and she was facing away from him.

  He rubbed her back in slow circles, “You can stop that in a year or two,” she said, “But you’re still in the doghouse!”

  “Diamond tennis bracelet?” he said.

  She snorted, “Where the hell would I wear it?”

  “A rosebush?”

  “I kill plants,” she moaned as he dug into a tight spot on her left shoulder.

  “Peace in the Middle East?”

  She huffed, “Won’t happen!”

  “How about planning a ride to New Orleans?”

  She looked over her shoulder at him, “A step in the right direction.”

  “Thank God!”

  She wiggled under his hands, “I didn’t tell you to stop.”

  “Yes, mistress,” he said, in a tiny voice.

  She doubled over, laughing so hard she nearly fell off the bed. She turned to him, unsuccessfully trying to straighten her face.

  “I demand,” she said, gasping with laughter, “that you rub my back until I fall asleep tonight, and that you rub my feet every night f
or a week.”

  “Hmm.”

  She had to stop to laugh again, “And that we plan rides to both California and to New Orleans this summer!”

  “Yes, Mistress,” he said, in that same small voice, into her ear.

  She fell onto his shoulder, screaming with laughter until tears streamed out of her eyes. He kissed her, laughing into her mouth. She pushed him away, wiping away the tears.

  “Tomorrow, tiger. I’m so tired I can’t see straight.”

  “So am I,” said Ace. She turned over, and he held her in his arms.

  “Next time someone follows you, shoot the bastard,” he whispered into her ear.

  “Get the custody letter,” she said, “I think I know a way.”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” he said, and they fell asleep.

  In the morning, he kissed every part of her, starting with her hair, then her forehead, her brow, her eyelids, her nose. By the time he got to her neck, she was clawing his back with one hand and had his penis in the other, squeezing. He gasped. She stopped clawing and grasped his balls with the other hand. He decided not to move, as she might emasculate him. She stroked him, kissed him, and occasionally reached up to grab his hair and kiss him on the mouth. She bit his nipples, licked his abs, and by the time she nipped his cock with her teeth, he was ready to go.

  She pushed him onto his back, straddling him. She went hard and fast, then stopped completely, making him groan. Then she did it again, and again, stopping and starting until he wanted to scream in frustration. Finally, she clenched and arched her back, and he came with a roar. They kissed hungrily, then she rolled off him.

  “Remind me never to make you angry again,” said Ace, “I think you killed me.”

  She laughed and went into the bathroom to clean up. She brought him a wet wipe and the trash can to clean up. He had to lay there for a while, gasping.

  She cooked, crisp English muffins, rounded hash browns, one scrambled egg, and two pieces of bacon each, all made into a sandwich. They drank orange juice and devoured their sandwiches.

  When she went to get ready, he called his uncle Brian and asked him to fax over the document giving him custody of Devlin. His uncle didn’t ask him why he needed the document and said it would be faxed to the club.