MUERTO: Night Rebels Motorcycle Club (Night Rebels MC Romance Book 2)

by Chiah Wilder

  She shook her head. “T-shirts and jeans.”

  “Any tats?”

  “They both had a lot of them on what I could see of their arms.”

  “Anything that said Piston or Satan?”

  “I’m sorry. I really don’t remember. I was so terrified that all I could think about was how to get out alive.”

  He patted her hand, then looked at the door when he heard Goldie’s voice. “Goddamn, it’s a mess.”

  “No shit,” said Skull.

  Crow rushed over to Jaime. “Are you okay? Who the fuck did this?”

  “I’m okay now. It was awful. They acted like they were only after the money.”

  “Then why the fuck did they spray-paint ‘You’re dead’? Seems personal,” Chains said, eyes fixed on the walls.

  “Did they mess with you?” Muerto asked in a low voice.

  “They tried to. They seemed really mad that the amount of money was so low. They started groping and hitting me. I pleaded with them not to hurt me. The taller guy kept telling the shorter one that they should go. They dragged me down the hall, tried the door on the utility closet, and when it opened, they threw me inside. They told me that if I left, they’d kill me. The door locked and I couldn’t get out.” Pressing her steepled fingers against her forehead, she muttered, “It was just so awful. I’ve never had anything like that happen to me before.”

  “They obviously didn’t know they were stealing from an outlaw MC. When we find their asses, they’ll know. And if they live, they’ll never forget.” Chains slammed his hand against the wall.

  When Steel walked in his face turned dark. He jerked his chin at Jaime. “Does she know who did this?”

  Muerto shook his head. “She gave a bit of a description, but nothing to really go on. She’s had a bad time of it. She should go home.”

  “It’s the fuckin’ Satan’s Pistons!” Army yelled while Eagle, Jigger, and Cue Ball agreed.

  “Why doesn’t someone take the woman home? We got some shit we need to discuss,” Steel said.

  Jigger volunteered and soon he had Jaime on the back of his bike, his cams roaring as he blasted down the street.

  “It’s not Satan’s Pistons. It’s not their MO,” Crow said.

  “It looks like it’s personal, like maybe it’s someone against me or Crow, or both of us. We get a lot of pissed-off dudes around here. It could be someone we threw out, or who lost big money, or whatever else.” Muerto glanced again at the threat graffitied all over the walls.

  “I’m with Crow on this. Paco and I were talking about it on the way over. This isn’t their style. This reeks of some punks who wanted to rob the place. Probably don’t know it’s a Night Rebels business,” Steel said as he took out his phone. “I’ll get some people in here to fix it up. We don’t want to lose too much revenue over this.”

  “Maybe they did know it was ours and that’s what the thrill was. Like kicking us in the ass,” Goldie said.

  “They’re gonna be fuckin’ sorry about that stupid mistake,” Paco replied.

  “Could be the punks in Pueblo. What the fuck was their name? You know, the fuckers who were kissing the Pistons’ asses.” Cue Ball rubbed his head.

  “The 39th Street Gang? Could be. That makes sense. It’s retaliation for us torching the strip bar.” Goldie leaned against the bar.

  “Or the fuckers Muerto and I beat down at the junkyard,” Diablo said.

  “We’ll find out who they were. Let’s get this place cleaned up.” Steel started picking up chairs.

  As the brothers worked, Muerto’s gut worked overtime, and darkness filled him. He didn’t think the theft and vandalism had anything to do with the Night Rebels. A disquieting suspicion pulled at him, and he called Raven. Even though she assured him all was good, he knew it wasn’t.

  Something isn’t right.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Pictures filled the wall, so many of them that they took on the appearance of wallpaper. I loved looking at them. I was glad Mother had bought me a camera for my thirteenth birthday. I can honestly say that it was at that moment, when I first held the silver camera in my hands, that I knew I’d never stop taking pictures of life and of people who interested and angered me. My pictures were like a journal of sorts for me; I could remember where I was, what I was doing, and on which date. Every detail was there in the photographs.

  I went over my new pictures I’d just printed out at the print shop. My quandary was where I was going to put them. I stood back for a long time, the scent of the red roses on the table behind me so fragrant. And then I saw the perfect spot for my new pictures. Right between the photograph of Muerto and Raven on the front porch drinking lemonade—it’d been so hot that day—and the other photograph of them kissing on the sidewalk before he rode away on his macho-man Harley.

  I picked up two pictures of the pool hall: one of the wonderfully graffitied walls, the other showing the smashed glass. They were perfect. And I must admit that I did a beautiful job on the walls. The letters were all spray-painted to perfection, same height and thickness. I was sure whoever saw them appreciated the effort I’d put into the whole thing.

  I had to do it. I had to punish him for being so stupid to take up with such a wanton slut. Picking up a black marker, I glanced at the wall of photographs of them. I took off the cap and carefully placed an X over his face in most of the photographs, and then I neatly wrote “slut” and “whore” over her face in red marker. It’d taken me a little more than an hour to do it, and I had to drag out the ladder from the back, hoping no one would see me.

  But it’d been worth the effort. I stood back and admired my handiwork, feeling a bit smug with myself. He’d allowed her to lead him astray. I’d given him some leeway, but now I knew he enjoyed fornicating. They both deserved to be punished.

  A smile played on my lips as I remembered one of Mother’s favorite quotes from the Bible, Isaiah 13:11. “And I will punish the world for their evil, and the wicked for their iniquity; and I will cause the arrogance of the proud to cease, and will lay low the haughtiness of the terrible.”

  And that’s exactly what I’d planned to do—punish the wicked.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  On Saturday night, Muerto arrived at his mother’s birthday party with Raven in tow. He’d wanted to ride over on his Harley with her pressed close to him, but she refused to meet his mother and sisters with windblown hair and dust on her face. When he relented, he knew she had his heart in addition to his dick.

  “How beautiful,” Raven exclaimed when they walked into the backyard for the party. Strings of colorful lanterns lined the fences and hung from the trees. High above on a tightrope, a bull made of papier-mâché and tissue paper in bold colors of blue, yellow, red, and purple dangled, waiting to be suspended at the appropriate time. “The piñata’s filled with candy, right?” she asked, her head tilted back.

  “And small toys. It’s for the kids. I used to love it when it was my birthday and I got first swing at it. I’d beat the shit out of it.”

  She quirked her lips. “I’m sure you did. You were a little hoodlum in the making. And I bet you had all the little girls cheering you on.” She squeezed his hand.

  “Actually, I did.” He kissed her softly on the lips. “If you were one of them in your cute party dress, I would’ve given my candy to you, hands-down.”

  “Uncle M!” Carlos said as he ran toward Muerto.

  “Hey, buddy.” Muerto let go of Raven’s hand and gave the boy a bear hug. “You eyeing the piñata?”

  The boy’s eyes rolled up. “Uh-huh. It’s a real big one. I bet there’s lots of good stuff inside it.”

  Muerto laughed. “I want you to meet Raven.” He gripped her wrist and moved her next to him. “This derelict is Carlos. He’s my sister Laura’s kid.”

  “Are you Uncle M’s girlfriend?” Carlos squinted at her.

  A light pink colored her cheeks. “I’m… uh….”

  “Yeah, she is,” Muerto said,
winking at her as her eyes widened.

  “Hi, Mateo,” Laura said as she came over, her gaze drifting over to Raven.

  “Hey. I want you to meet Raven.” The two women sized each other up, and Muerto knew Raven was in for a long night with all his relatives. He gripped her hand. “Where’s Ma?”

  “She’s in the tent. You did good. Everything is so beautiful.”

  He nodded. “I’ll catch you later. We’re going to get a drink.”

  As he walked past her, she grabbed his arm and whispered, “She’s beautiful, and you look so happy. I love it.” He flashed her a quick smile, then walked toward the tent.

  Inside, a burst of color welcomed them. The decorations, place settings, and lighting lent a festive air. Strings of tiny white lights twinkled everywhere, and wrought iron chandeliers with colored crystals hung around the room, creating an elegant ambiance. On white tablecloths, brightly colored dinner plates in green, yellow, red, and purple gleamed under the tiny lights.

  “This is stunning. I love all the colors and textures used in the decorations. Simply lovely.” Raven clutched his bicep. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”

  “I’m glad you’re with me. Let’s go meet my mom and then get a drink.”

  “I have a feeling I’m going to need several drinks before the night’s over. I didn’t know you had such a big family.”

  Muerto laughed. “Yeah. Tons of uncles, aunts, and cousins. Don’t worry about remembering everyone’s name. I can’t remember half of my cousins’ names,” he joked as he steered her toward a big table.

  A woman with dark brown hair pulled up in a chignon stood talking with a tall man who had salt-and-pepper hair. She craned her neck and her dark eyes sparkled, the lines around them crinkled. “Mijo.” She pulled Muerto into a loving embrace. “It’s too long since I’ve seen you.” She pretended to be upset, but her eyes shone like frost in the moonlight. “Is this the woman Laura told me about?” Her gaze shifted to Raven.

  “This is Raven,” he said.

  “Very pleased to meet you, Mrs. Ruiz,” she said, extending her hand.

  Shaking her head, she said, “Call me Cecilia.” Brushing Raven’s hand aside, she gathered her in a strong embrace. “You don’t know how happy I am to meet you.”

  “It’s nice meeting you. Muerto speaks very fondly about you.”

  Cecilia glanced at Muerto and smiled. “That’s good to know. Do you know how to cook?”

  “Ma,” he chided.

  “What? I was just wondering that’s all.”

  Raven leaned against him. “It’s okay. I love to cook. I find it very creative and relaxing. I don’t know much about Mexican cooking, so if you have some great recipes you’d like to share I’d love to have them.”

  Catching his eye, she said, “She’s a keeper mijo.” Turning her gaze back to Raven, she grasped her hand. “I’d love to have you come over sometime and go over the recipes with me. I have stacks of them. The dishes Mateo loves the most are in here.” She tapped her finger against her temple. “I’ll have Mateo bring you over and I can show you how to make a proper green chile.”

  “I’d love that.”

  “Don’t give me that face, mijo.” Cecilia swatted his arm playfully.

  “I think I’m going to regret this somehow.” He pretended to be sullen, but the glint in his eye gave him away.

  After talking with his mother for a while longer, he and Raven headed to the bar where he ordered a double shot of tequila with lime and salt and a margarita for her. As she sipped her margarita, he maneuvered her to a corner in the yard away from everyone. “I thought you’d like a breather,” he said. The melodic strains from the mariachis floated on the slight breeze.

  “Thanks. It must’ve been great having such a big family when you were growing up. You’re lucky.”

  “It has its perks, but it also means you have four times as many people butting their noses into your life.”

  “True. I didn’t think about that. The whole time I was growing up, it was just me and my dad. I didn’t know any of my cousins since my dad was estranged from his brothers and sisters. My mom’s side faded away after she died.” Raven licked the salt with the tip of her tongue. “Your mom and sister seemed real excited to meet me. They act like I’m the first girl you’ve ever brought. It’s sweet.”

  “You are the only woman I’ve ever brought over.”

  She moved her drink away from her mouth. “Are you serious? Then why did you ask me to come?”

  “Because I’m fuckin’ crazy about you. Don’t you know that?”

  She stared deeply into his eyes. “I wasn’t a hundred percent sure, but I’m glad because I’m hooked on you. Like totally, big-time hooked.”

  “That’s good.” He looped his arm around her waist and tugged her to him. “All I do is think about you, sweetie.” Then he crushed his mouth to hers with such intensity that he was sure she’d have bruises the following morning. He figured they could join all the other love bites he made sure were always on her body. When it came to her, he couldn’t help himself. She was like a drug that kept enticing him, and each time he indulged, he wasn’t satisfied because he wanted more. He didn’t think he’d ever get enough of her.

  The night was a collage of food, drink, conversation, dancing, laughter, and family. Muerto had never wanted to share his family or his heritage with anyone before Raven. Watching her sway her hips to the cumbia, engage his family in conversation, eat heartily, and play with his niece and nephews touched him in ways he couldn’t articulate. All he knew was that he wanted her to be a part of his life. He didn’t know if it was the double shots of tequila, how her rounded ass looked in her white skirt, or the way the tiny lights sparkled in the tent, but the night was magical.

  And when Carlos broke open the piñata and all the kids squealed, rushing to pick up the candy and toys on the ground, Raven jumped up and down, cheering them on, her face shining under the colored lanterns.

  It was at that moment he knew he loved her.

  Later that night, when they laid together, a cool breeze caressing their naked bodies, he held her close. Their lovemaking had been sensuous, slow, and tender as he strived to control the raging beast inside him that wanted to pummel her good and hard. He didn’t want to fuck her; he wanted to make sweet love to her, to make her come harder than she ever had from his touches. And she had.

  “Tonight was just perfect. The party, making love…everything,” she whispered against his chest.

  Raking his fingers through her hair, he bent down and kissed the top of her head. “I wanna tell you something I’ve never told any other woman.”

  Tilting her head up, she caught his gaze. “You’re not going to tell me you’re a mass murderer or something, are you?”

  He chuckled. “No.” Stroking her cheek, he held her gaze. “I love you.”

  A huge smile spread across her face. “I love you too. So damn much. You totally make my world rock.” She shimmied closer to his face and planted her lips on his. They kissed passionately.

  When she nestled her face in his neck, he asked, “If I was a mass murderer, would you still love me?”

  “Probably… why?”

  “Just checking.”

  She giggled and wiggled beside him, the side of her tit soft and nice on his skin.

  Then his cock was hard again and he rolled her onto her back. Hovering over her, he brought his mouth to hers, strands of her black hair catching between their lips as they kissed. He could feel her hard nipples against his chest, and he knew that time around he’d fuck her.

  The nighttime breeze did little to cool his fire.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Raven was still walking on air since Muerto’s proclamation of love the previous week. She couldn’t believe he’d told her he loved her. Muerto. The tough outlaw biker. It was too wonderful. And she loved him too. Even though it seemed like the last several weeks with him were like being on a roller coaster, she loved every minute of
it. She never thought she could fall in love so hard and so fast, but she did and it shocked the hell out of her. The guy she thought was the biggest, arrogant asshole in Alina was the love of her life. But that was before I got to know him. I’m so happy I gave him a chance. When I was with Brent I thought love was supposed to be comfortable, routine, easy, but since I’ve been with Muerto, I know how much I was missing out on. She now thought of her time with Brent as the dress rehearsal and her life with Muerto as the main performance.

  Humming under her breath, she went outside to pick some vegetables for the evening’s dinner. As she plucked red and green peppers, she saw a shadow behind her. Twisting around, she saw Walter’s taut face. “Hi, Walter,” she said.

  “Why did you lie to Muerto about me?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She shielded her eyes from the afternoon sun.

  “You told him I was bothering you. You lied to him.”

  Racking her brain, she tried to remember if she’d said anything to Muerto about Walter. Then she remembered. But that was a while ago. Why’s he bringing it up to me now? He’s such a fuckin’ weirdo. “I just mentioned that you made me uncomfortable when you’d stare at me while I tried to garden. That was a couple of months ago.”

  “You think you can seduce all men, don’t you? Well, you didn’t seduce me. You think you’re so hot. And just because you’re fucking the owner doesn’t mean you have to lie about me. Were you mad because you couldn’t snare me in your web?” His face mottled with anger, he kicked over her watering can. “You’re a fucking slut!”

  Raven had never seen Walter like that; his anger was over the top. I need to get out of here. She slowly inched over to the porch.

  “You really think you’re something. The pretty ones are always the worst. I wish a man would turn them down. Just reject them so they can know how it feels to be below average.”

  “I hear my phone ringing. I have to go.” She made a mad dash up the porch stairs and went into the house, closing and locking the door behind her. Sooty’s luminous eyes stared at her. “We’re fuckin’ out of here,” she told Sooty, who just sat at Raven’s feet.