“You ride with the Dogs of Fire. That’s all I need to know.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, you don’t tend to get your hands too dirty, do you?” She smiled like a demented cat.
“Lady, you don’t know shit about me, my club, or how dirty my hands are.”
“Is that so?” Daphne challenged.
“That’s right. But I’ll happily show you just how dirty I get when I put my thumbs through his eye sockets,” I said, pointing to Randy.
“I told Randy to break in and grab your girlfriend, but I didn’t expect you to be there,” Daphne said, adding, “It’s rare that I make a mistake like that, but then again, perhaps it wasn’t a mistake, but rather fate that brought us together.”
I crossed my arms. “What are you talking about?”
“Clearly, I was wrong about you. Despite the lack of secondary motivation, the fact that you’re up here with me means you two must have completed your assigned task.”
“Did they ever,” Atticus replied.
“Good,” she said with a smile. “Atticus told me you boys are looking for serious work and I may have an opening for you.” Daphne licked the tip of her cigar while holding eye contact with me. Although a little older, Daphne was as beautiful as she was dangerous. Still, I wouldn’t fuck her with Randy’s dick if she were the last psychopath on earth.
“Looks like these two are also playing double agent,” Buford added.
“Is that so? For whom?” Daphne asked.
“If they’re to be believed, Savannah PD tried to squeeze them,” Buford said. “Made ’em wear these,” he said, holding up our disconnected mics.
“You found those while searching them?” Daphne asked Buford.
“No, they volunteered them,” he replied.
“We’re being straight with you, ma’am,” Beau said. “We did what you asked, and we’re not rats. We didn’t tell Five-O a single thing.”
“According to Beau here, Savannah PD has an unmarked car staking out the house at this very moment,” Atticus said.
“Is that true?” Daphne asked.
“I sent Thing One and Thing Two to check it out,” Atticus said.
Daphne turned to us. “You know, if you’re lying to me about any of this, you’ll never make it out of this house alive.”
As if on cue, Atticus’s phone buzzed.
“It’s Thing Two,” he said, reading the text.
“Well?” Daphne asked.
“There’s a Crown Vic parked right where these gentlemen said it would be,” Atticus replied. “Should I have the guards take care of them?”
“No. We don’t need that kind of heat right now. Who knows what other surveillance they have set up on this goddamned hick palace?”
“Now, wait a minute,” Atticus protested.
“This is a prime example of why the Beast sent me to Savannah in the first place. You have two dead bodies in a van parked at one end of your driveway while Savannah PD is parked at the other end. You should have the entire force in your pocket by now.”
“You know, I was running Savannah just fine before…” Atticus stopped himself.
“Before what?” Daphne asked.
Atticus said nothing.
“Were you going to say something? Are you unhappy with your new arrangement? Would you like to trade it all in for what’s behind door number three?”
“No, ma’am,” Atticus said sheepishly.
I didn’t know if it was the Beast as an organization or Daphne specifically that he was afraid of, but to see a man like that rattled was unnerving.
“What did you tell your guards to do?” Daphne asked.
“I told them to get rid of the bodies. They can take the van down the rear access road. It’s hidden from the main road and next to impossible to see anything at this time of night.”
“They’d better not screw anything up or get caught,” Daphne said.
“My guys are highly trained, highly skilled, and totally loyal,” Buford snapped. “They know what they’re doing.”
Just then, the double doors of the study burst open to reveal the guards in their tactical gear, dragging the two decoy corpses by their feet. A macabre slug trail of blood and human flesh trailing behind them, soiling the antique rugs as they dragged the bloody lifeless bodies along the floors.
“What the hell are you doing?” Atticus yelled, as the guards continued to drag the bodies along.
“You said take care of the bodies, sir,” one of them said.
“I meant get them off the property!” he bellowed. “Wait, why are you wearing bandanas over your mouths?” Atticus demanded.
“These bodies stink, sir,” the other man answered, and I narrowed my eyes.
Well, shit.
“My point exactly!” Atticus snapped. “I meant get them the hell out of here. In the van! Not drag them through my beautiful home.”
“This is what I’m talking about,” Daphne said.
“Wait a minute,” Buford said, his hand going to his side arm.
The two men dropped the bodies and turned around as they each pulled a gun from their waistband.
“FBI! Everybody freeze where you are and put your hands in the air!” Taxi shouted.
Beau and I did as we were told. As a part of Taxi’s plan, we were to be arrested alongside Atticus, Daphne, and the others. He wanted to both protect us and to keep us in play down the road if needed. Unfortunately, Beau and I were the only ones in the room to listen to Taxi’s command.
Daphne dropped behind the huge desk and chaos ensued as her crew sprang in every direction. Buford made a move for Taxi’s gun, but Tackle was immediately on him. Hitting him so hard, teeth flew out of Buford’s head, but the big motherfucker didn’t go down.
Tackle was one of the bikers on Taxi’s task force. He currently rode with the Killing Jokers out of Gainesville, Florida. It was only now that he was standing up straight that I could see how massive he was.
Taxi moved toward Daphne, Beau went for Darci, and I eyeballed Randy, who was doing his best to hobble away.
“Oh, no you don’t, Captain Dick Punch,” I yelled as I tackled him to the ground, this time securing a full mount where I was able to finish the job I’d started at Shiloh’s place. “Don’t you ever come near my woman again,” I growled and smashed my fist into Randy’s face over and over. “You’re not getting away from me this time,” I screamed over the sounds of total chaos behind me. Before I could deliver another blow, I heard a gunshot, felt a sting in my right bicep, then heard another gunshot. For a moment, I froze. I wasn’t sure if I’d been hit. Hell, I wasn’t entirely sure I was even alive. Adrenaline coursed through my veins. Time slowed and all my senses heightened. I could taste the sweat in my beard. I could hear the creaking of the floorboards under the din of gunfire.
Most of all, my thoughts became hyper focused, turning to Shiloh. God, I loved that woman more than I could fully grasp. I’d never felt this way before, never felt like I belonged. Well, before the club, anyway. She completed the circle in a way that made me whole and I would never take her for granted.
The sound of a third shot snapped me to attention, and I spun around to see Sparkles holding a gun. She was standing in the center of the room, smiling, with two smoking bullet wounds in her chest, a very dead Darci at her feet. I’d also been shot but hadn’t quite put that together just yet. Right now, I was entirely focused on the pint-sized, pig-tailed blonde who didn’t seem to notice the two new holes Taxi had given her.
Sparkles finally looked down, clearly in shock, and stuck a finger in one of the wounds.
“Look,” she said excitedly, holding up her bloody finger for all to see. “Strawberries!” Her face twisted into creepy smile before she slumped to the floor.
The sound of breaking glass turned our attention away from the sight, and Taxi fired a round in the direction of the crash.
“Goddammit! The window!” he yelled, running towards the window behind the desk. �
�She jumped,” Taxi said, swinging a leg over the sill, clearly intent on going after Daphne.
“Tackle!” I exclaimed, seeing that he was now fighting Buford, Rocco, and Atticus by himself.
“You got this?” Taxi asked.
“Go!” I yelled, swinging at anything that moved. My right arm burned with every punch I threw, blood pouring from the bullet wound. I had no idea how bad the injury was, but I had use of my arm, so I figured, how bad could it be? Shock is a funny thing.
I glanced at the window and Taxi was gone. Off into the night to find Daphne as Tackle, Beau, and I struggled to contain the three men, but after a few more minutes of punching and wrestling we’d done just that. In the end, we had a battered Atticus Altrope, Buford Davis, and Rocco Whoeverthefuck zip tied at the wrists and feet, face down on Atticus’ blood-soaked antique carpet. I secured Randy with ties from Atticus’ curtains and may or may not have given him one last kick to send him off.
I was exhausted, bleeding, and suddenly a little light-headed.
“You okay, man?” Tackle asked, and the room began to spin.
“Aces,” I said, with an unsteady thumb up.
“Holy shit. Your arm,” Beau said.
“Yeah, I think that Sparkles chick shot me,” I said, before adding, “Oh, fuck!”
“Are you okay?” Tackle asked, taking a step toward me.
“Yeah, my arm’s okay. I just realized Taxi saved my life. That crazy bitch would have shot me in the back if he hadn’t taken her out. Now I have to be nice to him and he’s never gonna let me live this down.”
Tackle smiled wide. “Pretty fucking annoying, isn’t it?”
“Hey, what the hell took you guys so long to come in? I thought you were gonna be right behind us and come in all stealth-like. What was with dragging the bodies in like that?” I asked. A wave of nausea hitting me as my arm began to throb and ache.
“Everything was moving like clockwork,” Tackle said. “We saw you deliver the bodies, and then the guards went out to check on the decoy car just as planned. Once we knew they’d spotted the car, Taxi and I headed back towards the house. But then, rather than return to the house the same way they’d come, the guards cut back through the east lawn so they could spark up a joint. We just about ran smack into them.”
“Holy shit,” Beau said.
“We couldn’t risk anyone hearing gun shots, so we had to take them on by hand. Once they were out, Taxi had the idea of dressing in their clothes and dragging the bodies in as a distraction.”
Taxi burst into the room, covered in sweat.
“Did she come back up here?” he asked, out of breath.
“Daphne? No,” I said, shaking my head.
“Fuck,” he panted. “She got away.”
“What do you mean, got away? Let’s go fucking get her,” Beau said.
“Without a team to help us search for her, we’ll never find her out there in the dark,” Tackle said.
“Well, she ain’t getting outta here via the main road, and this place has gotta be surrounded by a hundred acres of thick forest,” Tackle said. “She won’t last the night out there this time of year.
Taxi shook his head. “Daphne was raised in New Jersey near woods just like these. She grew up hunting and camping with her old man, Peter Galanto. She’ll be fine.”
“Peter Galanto? The Mob boss?” I asked.
“Now you see the kind of people we’re dealing with, here,” Taxi said.
“I’ll show you who you’re dealing with,” Buford shouted.
“Shut the fuck up before I knock a few more teeth outta your stupid head,” Tackle yelled back.
“I think I had a fairly good read on how bad they were already, Taxi. Especially the one who shot me,” I said pointing on my now profusely bleeding arm.
“Jesus Christ,” I heard Taxi say, then darkness.
* * *
The hiss of whispering voices brought me out of my blackness, and I groaned as I forced my eyes open. The room was dark even though the blinds were open, so I deduced it was probably late.
I heard a feminine gasp and then Shiloh was above me, her worry etched all over her face. “You’re awake.”
“Hey, baby. What time is it?”
“Almost nine.”
“Jesus, that was a long day,” I breathed out.
“Two days have passed, Easy,” she said, going into nurse mode, checking my pulse, taking my temperature and blood pressure.
“What?” I asked, shifting and feeling a sharp pain in my arm.
“Be still, honey,” she ordered. “You lost a lot of blood which caused some complications.”
“Lost a lot of blood? How much blood?”
“The bullet nicked an artery, so you were placed into a medically induced coma for two days.”
“Fuck.”
She pulled the blood pressure cuff off my arm and nodded. “You’re the picture of health right now, though. Well, other than being buck-naked in a hospital bed.”
“I’m sorry I scared you, baby,” I said, and she climbed onto the bed and wrapped herself around me.
“Don’t ever do that again,” she ordered.
“I won’t,” I lied… sort of. I had no plans to get shot again, but with the shit that went down earlier, I couldn’t guarantee I wouldn’t.
“What happened?”
I filled her in on most of the operation, leaving the more violent parts out.
“Darci was working with Daphne?”
“Yeah,” I said, giving her a gentle squeeze.
“But she’s dead now?” she whispered.
“Yeah, baby, sorry.”
“And Daphne got away?” she rasped.
“Yeah,” I breathed out.
“That fucking cunt,” she growled, and I couldn’t stop a laugh. “Why are you laughing?”
“You saying ‘fuckin’ cunt,’ is funny.”
“Well, she is.”
“This is true,” I agreed.
Before I could say anything further, Taxi walked in holding up a plush otter toy. “I saw it in the gift shop and thought of you.”
“Then it’s a good thing you’re not the one who got shot,” I replied.
“Why’s that?”
“Because I think I would have had a tough time finding a plush asshole for you in the giftshop.”
Taxi laughed and Shiloh leaned down to kiss me. “I’ll leave you two to talk for a bit.”
“Don’t go far,” I said.
“Never again,” she replied and stepped out.
“How you feeling?” Taxi asked.
“Like I’ve been in a coma for two days. How ’bout you? Any word on Daphne?”
“She’s a ghost. Not a trace of her anywhere after the other night,” he replied, matter-of-factly.
“So, what? That’s just it? She wins?”
“This isn’t about winning, Otter. It’s about doing what you can when you can.”
“Maybe for you,” I replied.
“Daphne may have slipped past us for now, but we got the rest of her crew as well as Atticus and Buford.”
I grunted.
“Don’t forget,” he continued. “Once you removed your wires, Buford never thought to search you for other listening devices. We got him, Atticus, and Daphne on tape talking about the murder plots against Jordy and Tuck. You did it, Otter. You won.”
“But, Daphne.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll get her. I promise.”
“The Beast knows it’s being hunted now,” I said. “That makes it more dangerous than ever.”
“Not as dangerous as what I’m sending after it.”
* * *
Shiloh
Two days later, Otter was released, and I took him home with a demand that no one bother us for at least twenty-four hours. We walked into his apartment and I locked both of his locks, lest someone try to sneak in.
“Baby, what the fuck are you doin’?”
“Making sure we don’t have any surprises.”
He waggled his eyebrows. “I know a surprise you’d like.”
I jabbed a finger toward him. “No. You just got out of the hospital.”
“So?”
“I’m going to make dinner while you go get into something more comfortable.” I tugged on his beard. “Do you need help?”
“I’m good, baby,” he said, leaning down to kiss me before heading back to our bedroom.
He returned a few minutes later, shirtless, holding a T-shirt in his hand.
I bit my lip. “You look good.”
“Stop it,” he ordered.
“What?”
“I’m gonna forgo dinner and take you to my bed unless you stop eye fucking me.”
“Are eyes an erogenous zone?” I wrinkled my nose. “Weird, but I’m in if you want.”
He laughed. “I need help with my shirt. Can’t quite reach my arm over my head.”
“Okay, honey, sit on the sofa.”
He did as I guided, but when I slid between his legs, he wrapped his arms around me, standing and lifting me off my feet.
“What are you doing?” I squealed. “You’re gonna tear your stitches.”
“You can sew me back up again,” he said, and hauled me back to his bedroom, dropping me on his bed and quickly divesting me of my clothes.
“Easy,” I hissed, but was silenced immediately when his mouth pressed against my mound.
He lifted his head and grinned. “Love you, baby.”
I slid my fingers into his hair. “I love you, too, honey.”
He lowered his head again and proceeded to give me the first of six orgasms. As he made love to me, I let the stress of the past few weeks go. I’d found my bliss and I would never let it go.
Shiloh
One year later…
I SMILED DOWN at the perfection that was Bodhi Easton Ottenheimer and he smiled back at me. He turned three months today, and he was the absolute best part of my life. Well, next to Otter, of course.
“Good afternoon, little man,” I cooed, lifting him from his crib. “How did you sleep?”
He gurgled and I changed his diaper, then opened the window to let in the breeze before I sat in the recliner in his room and settled him to my breast. Otter was at a club meeting, so I was home with a couple of recruits to watch over me. At least, that’s what they told me. Of course, they were currently bellowing obscenities at each other as they played some made up game in my pool.
Calling the Biker's Bluff (Dogs of Fire MC: Savannah Chapter Book 7) Page 18
