“Let’s do this.” Thankfully Draven’s case of the nerves seemed to have evaporated as he walked out onto the short pier and waited for the boat to dock.
Anton stepped up behind him. One crew member jumped from the boat to the dock and tethered it. The captain killed the engine and silence ensued. Taking the tan fisherman’s cap from his head, the dark-skinned man steering the vessel headed in their direction. He stuck his hand out as he reached Draven, who shook it. Anton had never seen the man among the Devils before. He couldn’t help wondering if he might be from the La Paz cartel.
“You have something for me?”
Draven nodded and handed the captain the white envelope.
He opened it, quickly counted the money inside, then looked back to one of the crew, giving a short nod. Two other men emerged from the stern, carrying a large shipping crate, one that might ordinarily be used to carry fish. A thin layer of ice spread across the top. The men set the crate at the captain’s feet, then stood closely behind. Anton hadn’t missed the guns stuck into the back waistband on their pants.
Draven crouched, fished through the ice, and pulled out a plastic bale of heroin. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small switch blade, flipped it open, then cut a small hole into the plastic. He dipped his pinky into the cut, then took the brownish powder to his tongue.
Standing, Draven nodded at Anton, before looking back at the shorter, dark-skinned man. “We have a deal.”
Anton turned and gave a short nod of his own. He and Draven bent to retrieve the shipping crate. Before the man on the dock could begin to untie the boat, the DEA agents swarmed the area, circling the docks, guns drawn. One of the crew standing behind the captain pulled the gun from his waistband and aimed at Draven. Anton dropped the heroin to the dock, moving lightning quick and grabbing the man’s gun arm, twisting his wrist, feeling the snap of the bones. The man cried out about the same time Cara and Kane appeared. The normal eye wouldn’t have picked up Kane’s speed as he apprehended the second man, yanking his gun arm behind his back and dislocating his shoulder. The gun dropped from his hand and thudded to the dock near Kane’s feet.
Moments later, all four men were in custody and Cara had put in the phone call to the special agents in Santa Barbara. The heroin and money were safely in the hands of the DEA. Robbie Melchor stood next to his vehicle, taking all the credit from the DEA special agent heading the case.
“The man’s ego has no bounds. Maybe now he’ll get the hell out of my state.” Cara grumbled, disconnecting her call. She walked over to Anton. “Tank and Spider will be taken into custody soon, Blondy. Looks like your job is done. I can’t thank you enough.”
Detective Hernandez stepped forward and shook his hand. “I know the last year couldn’t have been the easiest. I wanted to thank you before I head out. Someone needs to speak with Captain Melchor and send him on his way. I sure as the hell ain’t letting Detective Brahnam anywhere near him. She’s liable to castrate the idiot. Not that he doesn’t deserve it.”
Hernandez winked at Cara. “See you back at the office, Brahnam. Good work.”
“Thanks, Joe.” Cara smiled, obviously pleased with how things had gone down.
They may not have gotten the kingpin or shutdown his operation, but Kane would still one day get his revenge on Raúl Trevino Caballero, without the help and knowledge of the DEA. The Sons of Sangue would handle this one personally, without being under the scrutiny of the law.
“Get what you need from your rides, Anton.” Cara walked with them toward the parking area. “Then I’ll take you and Draven into custody. I’ll have Xander come out with the box truck to pick up your motorcycles.”
Anton couldn’t be happier to have his job undercover finished. Once he left the sheriff’s office, he’d get his life back. Hopefully, he’d talk Kimber into being a part of it. No more secrets. It was time to come clean.
Just as he and Draven reached their motorcycles, movement near the highway caught his notice. Bobby straddled his bike, arms crossed over his chest. From the distance, Anton couldn’t judge his temperament. He no doubt watched the DEA take the boat crew into custody. Instead of waiting for an explanation, Bobby kicked up his bike stand, turned the bike and headed down the road.
“Fuck.”
Anton fished his cell from his backpack he had left with his bike, having known it was there all along. He found the name Preacher and hit SEND. Bobby never picked up, not that Anton expected him to.
“Problems?” Cara asked.
“Nothing I can’t take care of.” Anton held his hands out for Cara to cuff. “Let’s get this the fuck over with, Brahnam.”
* * *
Kimber finished tidying up the library, placing the final books on the shelves and clearing off the main counter. Chad had gone home a couple of hours ago, while Tena had the day off. She didn’t mind closing. It gave her a few extra hours of reading time during the slow hours, once the night shift duties had been completed. Draping her purse handles over her forearm, she picked up the romance she had been enjoying and headed for the door.
A quick glance around proved everything was perfectly in its place, ensuring her an easy opening the next morning. She flipped the switch and doused the lights, before walking out the door. The heavy steel and glass door closed behind her. Sticking her key in the lock, she secured the deadbolt, listening as it clicked into place.
The parking light illuminated the lot, hers being the only car remaining. She had parked beneath a streetlamp toward the back of the lot, as she always did. Not that she ever had anything to worry about. Who would think to rob a library? Anton’s words of warning came to mind and the fact he thought she needed protection. Had he not been a member of the Devils, she wouldn’t need to worry about her safety. Kimber had no idea what was going on with him, but she intended on finding out. He had bought himself another day. If he didn’t come clean, then she’d be forced to move on.
Kimber knew absolutely nothing about him, other than the fact he was phenomenal in bed, which might have been enough over the past few weeks, but no longer. He promised to remain faithful, no more running into the night to save women he didn’t have a relationship with. She wanted to know more about him, get to know the man beneath the pretty exterior. Not that she expected a proposal or promises of forever.
But she was done sharing.
Either he opened up or they’d become neighbors in name only. Because quite honestly, after all they had done together, Kimber couldn’t imagine going back to being just friends. No stopping by for coffee. No afternoon chitchats. If she couldn’t know all of him, then she wanted none of him.
Kimber used the key fob to unlock the door to her vehicle. The lights blinked twice and the click of the door unlocking echoed in the empty parking lot. Just as she grabbed the handle, something cold and hard was shoved against her spine. She had been so caught up in her own thoughts, she hadn’t bothered with paying attention to her surroundings.
“Give me the keys and get into the passenger side.” Kimber sucked in her breath, recognizing the man’s voice. “Don’t make this more difficult than it already is, Kimber.”
She glanced over her shoulder and into Bobby Bourassa’s cold eyes. His mouth was set in a stern line, his mouth nearly disappearing beneath his whiskers. Running wasn’t an option. He’d easily overpower her. Instead, she did as she was told and skirted the vehicle, hoping for another opportunity to get away. Bobby crawled behind the driver’s seat and started the car.
“Where’s Tena?”
She needed to get him talking, hopefully finding out what his plans were and where he was taking her. Maybe she’d be afforded a moment of time in which to text Anton.
Bobby kept his gaze trained in front of him. He shifted the car from park. “She’s not my concern at the moment.”
“Then who is? Me?”
“Not really.” Bobby pulled the car to the stop sign, flipped on the left turn signal, then pulled from the lot.
�
��Where are you taking me, Preacher? If you just wanted the car, you could’ve asked.”
“I needed you, not the car. We’re headed for Santa Barbara, so buckle up. We got a long ride ahead of us.”
His gun lay tucked between his thighs. If she could just reach…
“Don’t think about it, doll.” He no doubt detected her attention on his lap. “You’ll never get to it before I do. Why not make this easy for us both? Just settle back and take a nap.”
“Why are you doing this?”
His gaze stayed focused on the road, both hands on the steering wheel. “Because Rogue can’t be trusted. Tank thinks the only way to get through to him is with you. If we have you, it’s only a matter of time before Rogue comes to get you.”
“Tank?”
“The Devils’ president.”
The car rolled to a stop at the final stoplight before heading out of Florence. If Kimber didn’t act now, there would be few opportunities along Highway 101. She slowly moved her hand toward the unlock button.
“Don’t think about it, Kimber.” He glanced at her just before the light turned green. “If I have to tie you to the seat to get you there, then I will.”
“What’s Rogue done?”
His fingers tightened on the steering wheel, apparent by the whitening of his knuckles. “Not your concern.”
“The hell it isn’t.” Kimber turned in her seat, tucking one foot beneath her other leg. “You’ve brought me along for the ride. That makes it my concern. What makes you think Rogue will come after me?”
Bobby chuckled. “That man is crazy about you. He finds out the Devils have you, he’ll come to your rescue. It’s only a matter of time.”
“And then what?”
The car slowed, made a right and took the on ramp onto Highway 101. “Whatever Tank wants. This isn’t my gig. I’m only following orders. Once my job here is done, I’m getting the hell out of here. I’m washing my hands of it. Tank can clean up his own fucking mess.”
“So you’ll just stand by and allow Tank to kill Anton? I thought he was your friend.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I?”
Bobby shifted uneasily. “Rogue messed up. He needs to answer for his actions.”
“Enough that it’s worth killing him for?”
His whiskers moved as his jaw worked. Kimber hoped Bobby didn’t want Anton harmed any more than she did. She’d need to appeal to his sense of guilt if she were to get him to let her go. If Anton was forced to come get her, Kimber knew he wouldn’t leave Santa Barbara alive.
“I didn’t think so. What did he do, Preacher?”
A heavy sigh escaped his lips. Bobby looked at her briefly, the ice now gone from his gaze. “He ratted out the club. Feds came in, arrested a lot of the Devils. Some of them will be going away for a good long time. Tank managed to give the feds the slip.”
So that’s what Anton had referred to about coming clean? No wonder he hadn’t wanted to tell her. “They’ll kill Anton. And you have to know they won’t allow me to walk either. They can’t afford to leave witnesses. Do you think for a minute you’ll walk out alive? What’s the saying? Three men can keep a secret if two are dead. Think about it, Preacher.”
Silence filled the space. Kimber shifted in her seat and stared out the side window. If she could manage to text Anton sometime during the trip, she’d warn him to stay away. Coming after her would be a fool’s errand. The best she could hope for was Bobby having a change of heart — that or the feds finding Tank before Bobby had the chance to hand her over.
Kimber leaned her head against the seat and watched the sun’s rays cast an orange glow over the horizon. Bobby wasn’t a bad guy. She could feel it in her heart and had seen it firsthand in the way he treated Tena. Somehow, she needed to convince him of that. Regardless of his loyalties to the bloody MC, turning Anton over into their murdering hands was a horrid idea with only one outcome.
Not one of them would walk away.
She had a good ten hours in which to get him to see reason. Whatever Anton’s sins, they weren’t worth dying over.
* * *
Brea ended a call on her cell and sank to the orange plaid sofa in the corner the storeroom of the Blood ‘n’ Rave. Something in her expression told Draven the call hadn’t gone well. He wanted to ask who it was and why it had her so forlorn, but feared he didn’t know her well enough to pry.
He and Anton had been released from the sheriff’s office just shy of an hour ago. Cara Brahnam had told them to lie low until they received word from the DEA that Tank had been taken into custody. No sense tempting fate. Draven had first gone to his home and retrieved Brea, then immediately came to the club so he could find her a proper donor. Not that he was opposed to feeding her, but the whole idea still sort of creeped him out. He was used to providing donors, not being one.
His bartender was quite capable of running the place without him for a few days while he took Brea back to his place and stayed out of sight until the nasty business with the Devils blew over. The Devils MC weren’t about to be too happy with him and Rogue, not to mention what the cartel might do in retaliation.
Lord, what the hell had he gotten himself into?
He wasn’t even sure yet what to do with Brea. He couldn’t keep her at the Rave. The Sons of Sangue would smell another vampire easily enough. Her scent wouldn’t be familiar, which meant they’d no doubt seek her out. If Brea had wanted their protection, she would’ve gone to them in the first place. Instead, she came to him because Joseph trusted him. He missed the fun-loving biker. He might have been a man of few words most days, but he always wore a smile.
Who the hell would want to end his life?
Draven shook his head at the fact the son of a bitch had left Brea without her mate. Looking at the funky little sprite, he couldn’t help but want to protect her from the ugliness her life had become. She appeared broken and defeated. First plan of action, get her a donor and speak to his bartender about handling things for a few days, then get her out of the club before any of the Sons stopped by.
He needed a solid plan. Hell, he couldn’t hide her away forever. Draven wasn’t a vampire and had no way of keeping her from harm. Joseph Sala may have entrusted his mate to him, but Draven would be damned if he knew what the hell to do with the gorgeous vampire.
Not to mention her connections to the mob and cartel.
That alone scared him spitless. Draven was pretty sure her godfather wouldn’t be too happy with him hiding her away, let alone his failings with the Devils and the drug deal gone wrong just hours ago. They’d no doubt want restitution for their lost money and drugs.
Brea’s bow-shaped lips turned down. “I need to leave, Draven. Go somewhere where no one else will get hurt.”
His brow creased. “Where do you want me to take you?”
“You can’t come. Lord knows you wouldn’t be safe. You didn’t ask for me in your life.”
“And yet, here you are.” Draven grabbed a rubber band from the corner desk, wound his hair into a messy knot, and secured it at the back of his head. “Who were you talking to earlier? Do they have something to do with your sudden need to flee?”
Brea took her forefinger to her lips and nibbled on her cuticle. “You’re better off not knowing. Can you get me a car? One that can’t be traced to me?”
Draven approached the sofa and sat beside her. “Does this have anything to do with your godfather?”
She looked to her hands folded in her lap. “Raúl called me.”
Draven laid his larger hand over her smaller ones. “What did he want?”
When she lifted her gaze, her beautiful blue eyes swam with tears. “I think he’s responsible for Kinky’s death. That he’s the one who put the hit out.”
Draven’s gaze widened. Jesus. “He told you this?”
A single tear dropped from her impossibly long lashes. “In so many words. He sounded so angry, Draven. He’s never spoke
n to me with such animosity. He more or less asked me if I hadn’t learned my lesson with Joseph.”
“Meaning?” Draven’s heart thudded in his ears.
The man was a monster. Did Raúl already know about his part in the earlier DEA sting? If so, he needed to disappear with Brea, whether she wanted him along or not. At least until things calmed down. He wouldn’t be safe here with or without her.
“I’m not positive. He hinted at being careful about those I choose to befriend.”
“Meaning me?”
She looked back to her lap. Tears fell to the back of his hand, making a wet track. “I’m sorry to have put you in danger. This is all my fault and why I need to get away … without you. Raúl has eyes everywhere. I can’t be responsible for something happening to you. Kinky’s death is already on me. I don’t know how I’ll ever forgive myself.”
He tipped her chin up, then used the pad of his thumb to brush away the tears. “You had nothing to do with Kinky’s death. You can’t blame yourself for the actions of a mad man.”
“He’s a bad man, Draven. Deep down, I knew that. But he’s my godfather. He treated me like a princess. I thought maybe if his dark side never touched me, I could almost pretend it didn’t exist.”
“And now?”
Her blue gaze iced over. “I want to kill him myself.”
“You can’t think to kill Raúl Trevino Caballero.”
“No?” One of her finely plucked brows raised. “You might not get close enough, but no one would question me wanting to see him. Besides, he’s all but demanded my presence, so they’d be expecting me.”
“Don’t be foolish, Brea.”
“I loved him. And now I want to kill him for what he did to Kinky. I’m not foolish enough to believe I’d get out of there alive if I did.” She pulled her hands from his and scrubbed the tears from her face. “That’s why I need to disappear for a while. If I’m alone, then there’s no one for him to hurt for my defiance and disobedience.”
Rogue (Sons of Sangue Book 4) Page 25
