And he wondered why doing something for someone else’s own good was always easier than doing it for himself.
“Preach?”
He turned toward Talon’s voice, then got up, covered Holly and followed the man into the hallway.
“Sorry to bother you, man. But some of these guys are freaked about Eli being here.”
“You one of them?”
“No,” Tals said without hesitation.
Chapter 27
The next day, Rocco stayed with Calla while Cage and Eli went to the clubhouse in the early-morning hours. Tals said he’d stayed up all night listening to the police radios and other MC chatter and he hadn’t heard anything about the Heathens missing one of their own. And this was big goddamned news. MC wars had been fought over much less.
“This shit’s going to start a war, Cage,” Tals said.
“Maybe you could announce the obvious,” Cage shot back.
“Goddammit, Cage. I was there, okay? I fucking sat by your bed, thinking you were going to die,” Tals told him. “Don’t pull this shit on me.”
Cage swallowed hard. Wanted to say that it would’ve been better if he’d been DOA, but that wasn’t true. It wouldn’t have solved anything. “Eli called he cops. If he hadn’t . . .”
He trailed off and watched Preach and Tals turn to Eli for confirmation. Eli nodded and Cage said, “If our father finds out . . .”
“Fuck that. I’d be more worried about Troy,” Tals spat. “Not that you have anything to worry about. He’s never getting close to you again.”
Preacher turned his attention to Eli, asking, “Do you want to stay here, with Vipers protection?”
“I want to stay here with Cage,” Eli said, choosing his words carefully. Cage wasn’t the only one who noticed that.
“How do you know he’s not a spy?” Crook asked. He was a year older than Preacher, another lifer in the MC, and when Cage shot him a look, he shrugged. “Come on, Cage. You’re as suspicious as we are. Just because he doesn’t sit at the table doesn’t mean he won’t learn a lot of shit.”
“I’ll leave and take him with me,” Cage told him.
“Ah, Cage—come on, man,” Crook muttered.
“For the good of everyone. If that’s what it takes.” Cage stuck his hands in his pockets.
“We don’t let our own just walk away when there’s trouble. And you are our own, Cage. Have been for a long time now,” Preacher said.
“You wanted me to stay away.”
“As much as I wanted you to come back,” Preacher agreed. “Either way, I would’ve been okay, as long as you were happy.”
“What makes you happy, Preach?”
Preacher smiled like he had the greatest secret in the world. “You’ve got to figure it out for yourself. Never made this easy for you. Not starting now.”
Eli’s phone began to ring. He stared down at it for a second, then looked up at Cage. “It’s Dad.”
“Give it to me,” Cage told him.
“I can do this.”
“Put it on speaker when you answer,” Cage told him.
With the men around him, Eli did as Cage had asked and their father’s harsh voice demanded, “Where the fuck are you, boy?”
Eli winced and seemed to lose his resolve.
It was all right, because Cage had enough for both of them. “He’s with me.”
“Cage? You send that boy back to me right now.”
“No. Never.”
“You want more of a war? Almost dying the first time wasn’t enough of a rush for you?” his father demanded. “I’ll make sure the job’s done right—because I’m doing it this time.”
“I want to stay with Cage,” Eli said. “It’s not his fault. He didn’t ask me to. I came to him. It’s my choice.”
“You don’t have a choice, boy. You’re mine. You’re a Heathen. Patched in. Did you tell Cage that?”
Eli swallowed hard and Cage cursed mentally. Being patched in was a whole other problem, one they both knew well. Eli had worn his probie patch into Vipers, no doubt because he’d known it would gain easier entrance.
“We’ll deal with it,” Cage replied.
“You want to be the one to cut the tattoo off your brother’s back? Because you know that’s the only way he’s out.”
Eli paled and Cage put a strong hand on his shoulder. “You’re a fucking bastard. But you’re not laying a hand on him.”
Cage hung up on his father, then asked Eli, “Did they force you to patch in?”
Eli’s expression said it all. And really, when they’d offered it to him, how could the kid say no?
“How big’s the tattoo?” Tals asked quietly.
“Between my shoulder blades,” Eli said.
Cage’s heart sank. That was really fucking big, the span of the skull and crossbones taking up the majority of space. Black ink.
The doorbell rang.
“Liquor shipment,” Rocco said.
“Eli, go with Rocco,” Preacher ordered. Eli hesitated until Preacher said, “Trust us, Eli.”
Eli turned to face Cage. “I do.”
When he was gone, Cage blew out a frustrated breath. “Not a lot of options.”
“So fucking antiquated.”
“They’re trying for one-percenter status,” Tals said quietly. “I heard it from Tenn, who’s been in touch with Havoc.”
“Like they haven’t murdered enough innocent people—now they’ll be forced to so they can keep their rep,” Cage muttered.
Preacher was nodding in disgust, because he’d obviously heard the rumors. “So what about sending Eli to Havoc?”
“Protection in return for what?”
“Sometimes Havoc doesn’t want anything in return for protection.”
“It’d be the last place my father would think to look for him. But what kind of life’s that? He’ll be surrounded by an MC. And he says he wants out. If that’s what he wants, I’m behind him,” Cage said.
Preacher looked pained. “He could go to your sister, but it’s risky.”
“We cover up the tattoo.”
“Anyone who looks at his back will know what it’s covering. Especially in a kid so young,” Preacher said.
“So we dismantle Heathens completely. I don’t see any other option,” Cage said fiercely.
Preacher laughed, but there was no humor behind it. “Sure, let’s take the easy way out.” He ran his hand over his shaved scalp. “Christ, Cage . . .”
Rocco and Eli came back then. “Eli’s got some information for us.”
Everyone turned to Eli, who said, “Dad’s got help now. This guy just came in a couple of days ago and offered to smooth the way into a new territory.”
“Great, so they’ve got a guardian angel,” Preacher muttered.
“More like twenty-five percent of their new-territory profits in return for a smooth run.”
“Only person who can promise shit like that is the law.”
“He’s not a cop,” Eli said with certainty. “But he’s not a civilian.”
“Fed,” Tals muttered.
“Which means he could be investigating or on the take,” Rocco pointed out. Either one wasn’t good.
“You didn’t get a license plate, did you?” Because Cage was certain the guy gave a fake name.
Eli smiled and the resemblance between them hit Cage right in the solar plexus. “I memorized it.”
He wrote it down and Tals went to run it.
Cage steered Eli to a private corner, sat him down. “I don’t care if you don’t have information—you know that, right? Even if you came here with nothing but yourself, it would’ve been fine.”
“Sorry about the patch.”
“I was going to come get you,” Cage told Eli. “Preacher and I were going to bri
ng you back here, with me. For good. Whether you wanted that or not. I shouldn’t have left you there alone.”
“I’m not your responsibility,” Eli said, as if he was repeating a line someone told him over and over.
“Damn straight, you are. You’re also still just a kid. You want out, you’re out. But you’re also dealing with my rules, and I don’t think you’ve had that before, so you’d better get used to it.”
Did those words seriously just come out of his mouth? Even Eli looked surprised, but not unhappy. He grumbled, “Great, so I’m here and I’ll still have no decision-making power,” but there was no hiding the expression of relief he wore.
“You’re fifteen. Keep doing what you’re doing—keep making good decisions and you’ll be fine.” He squeezed Eli’s shoulder. “You’re here. You’re only as safe as the decisions you make.”
“Yeah, I hear you.” He stared at Cage. “Are you going to be able to do this? Go to war again against Dad and Troy?”
“Are you?”
“Hell, yes,” he whispered.
“Then so am I.”
Chapter 28
There were several Vipers guarding the apartment while Cage was at the clubhouse with Preacher. After the previous night, going back there was less of an option, but I was restless.
I heard another Harley approach and I glanced down to see Bear, who was carrying bags of food for the guys.
In a very short period of time, I’d come to anticipate—enjoy—relish—the loud distinctive roar of a Harley and I could differentiate between a single bike and two or even three at this point.
I knew Cage’s bike too. I could pick out its sound above the others. I didn’t tell him that, but it was something I loved knowing.
Was I fooling myself, thinking that Cage and Eli and I could be a family, within the MC’s family?
I took the key to Cage’s private space—he’d shown me where I could find it—and I let myself down the private elevator into his world. Except it felt like our world, our place of secrets. There were times I’d just sit here, watching him for hours, neither of us talking.
I stood inside the garage work space so I could feel close to him. It was locked down, but I should’ve told someone where I was headed. But I couldn’t stay in the bedroom, not when I was on the verge of another panic attack. I needed space, and lots of it. In the middle of Cage’s workshop, I found it.
I ran my hands over an unfinished metal bumper, the coolness of it under my palms enough to soothe me. Ground me, until I swore I could feel Cage’s energy flow from the bike to me.
I’d made it through the hard part tonight. And while that was the truth, how many harder parts did I have to endure?
Was it worth it?
“Cage is,” I whispered, wanting to fold up on the table with his custom parts and sleep. But I was too cold, too wired, too scared to death of my dreams.
Finally, I did drag a blanket around me and curled up on the old couch. I must’ve fallen asleep, despite my reservations, but when I woke, Cage was in the room with me.
Blinking sleepily, I watched him. Bent over the bumper, he was painting the details with a small brush, concentrating so hard he’d sucked his bottom lip between his teeth. He’d tied his hair back with a bandanna and the hard rock music blared into his headphones, so loud the sound escaped. I’d been in here before when he played it out loud, when the music made the whole place seem to shake.
The motorcycle’s base was a deep blue. The streaks of silver and black were scattered and I could only imagine how they’d look as the bike zoomed by.
He looked over at me. Smiled. Took the headphones off, lowered the volume and unplugged them so music filtered through the entire space.
“What was it like, before this war?” I asked.
He didn’t seem surprised by my question, but he put the brush down and came to sit next to me. I shifted to make room, sat up and folded into his arms as he told me, “It’s always been dangerous. That’s the draw. But the Heathens aren’t patrolling Skulls twenty-four/seven.”
“But now that you’re back . . .”
“It’s going to get worse before it gets better.” He sighed. “We could leave, you know? Me, you, Eli. Go live by Tenn. Go anyplace.”
“What would happen to the town without Vipers?”
“Beyond going to hell with the drugs? Shit, I don’t think many people realize how much real estate we bought when times were bad here. The mayor does. The police do too, which is probably why we don’t get harassed more. But we don’t put people out of business or party in their neighborhoods. And I’d hate to relocate and give up my home. But I would.” He looked at me. “Do you think he’s going to be okay?”
“With you in his corner? Yes.” That made Cage smile, and I liked making him smile. “I wouldn’t mind being fifteen again and having a do-over.”
“It’s the first time you’ve talked about that without fear in your eyes.”
“Maybe because I just realized I’m getting my do-over right here, right now. You took what was all fucked up and you turned it around so I could heal.” All those years, trying to fuck away the memory. It had never worked, because it hadn’t been with the right person.
Cage made me feel powerful.
Correction: Cage just made me feel.
I stood, walked over to him and wrapped my arms around him. He buried his face in my neck for a moment, murmured, “So fucking soft, Calla.” He licked along my collarbone. Sucked, hard enough to leave a mark. I shuddered, on the brink of orgasm. It would take a single touch from him—the tweak of a nipple, a finger rubbed on my clit, even another hard suck, would slam me over that edge.
As if he knew, he did little more than pull down my sweats and underwear. And then he slid down my body, inserted himself between my thighs and had me put one leg over his shoulder. I was upright only through the combination of sheer will and his strength. And I was under no illusion that it was mainly the latter.
I was half naked. He was dressed, his face buried between my legs as electric currents shot through me, the quickness of the climax unsurprising.
I trembled but his arms were strong around me as he rose and wrapped me around him. I buried my face in his shoulder. “You made me come alive, Cage. You made me really live. And I don’t ever want it to end.”
He tightened his grip. “Good. ’Cause I’m not planning on going anywhere, babe.”
* * *
When he’d first come back to the empty apartment, Cage had known exactly where Calla had gone. He’d found her resting so comfortably in the space, and had been ready to pick her up and bring her to bed when he’d seen the sketchbook on the chair, not the table where he’d left it.
It was a new one he’d just bought the day before to start framing out new jobs, since he’d put out the word that he’d be taking orders again. He flipped through to find the first twenty or so pages taken up with sketches and a signature with a jagged E.
At least the old man gave us this. Because their grandfather had been the artist in the family. His father was a good mechanic, but he’d never had the patience for putting together a bike from scratch.
But Eli did, at least from what these drawings indicated. And he had the potential for a talent well beyond Cage’s . . . if he kept practicing.
Cage would gladly make room for another artist in his garage, but what Eli needed wasn’t in this space.
He needs you, Tenn had told him that morning. But Cage had learned that sometimes giving people their freedom to grow was the best gift you could give them.
Chapter 29
Cage was dealing with finding Eli a tutor for his GED. He couldn’t enroll him in school without bringing child protective services down on him in some fashion. For the moment, there was a fragile peace and getting the law involved would make it much worse. I understood that, beca
use in this situation Eli would be placed back with the Heathens, or in foster care. I wasn’t sure exactly which would be worse, but Eli threatened to run if CPS got involved.
I was going to hang around the apartment, but Preacher came to pick me up. I was surprised to see him, but when I went to let him in, he shook his head and said, “Let’s take a ride and get something to eat.”
He had his truck, a dark gray Suburban that rumbled as he drove it. We parked in town and walked through to the small restaurant. It was a warm day, so we sat outside. It was the first time I really got to people-watch and I enjoyed it. A couple of other Vipers members came to join us, and there were others going about their business in town.
As the afternoon wore on, I watched the men and women, cognizant of what Cage had told me, that most of the general population didn’t know the contributions Vipers made. But maybe it took an outsider to notice, because I could see easily how the town treated these men, and me by extension, with a mixture of fear and gratitude. I saw it in their eyes—the little boys who watched the leather and Harleys with a gleam of awe as mothers and fathers hurried them by. Fathers, maybe a little more slowly, and I definitely saw some mothers looking over their shoulders.
Everyone has a wild side.
I also saw it in the giggle of older teenage girls as they gazed on the bikers for just a little too long.
The dichotomy was fascinating.
The town definitely knew that Vipers was a big part of their infrastructure.
“Does it bother you?” I asked Preacher after two teenage girls focused on him, giggling and reddening like he was a celebrity, until an older woman sternly shooed them away and glared at Preacher as though he’d encouraged it.
Which, for the record, he hadn’t.
“What? That I’ll never be invited to Sunday dinner?” Preacher asked now. “Fuck ’em. They should be grateful.”
He couldn’t hide the hurt and it actually made me want to shake these people a little. Although, in theory, a little bit of fear put the best kind of separation between the town and the Vipers. Best for both, because enemies could easily use that relationship against Vipers. Anything that left the MC vulnerable wasn’t good, and so pretending to only give a shit about their interests protected the town from all the things that went roar in the night.
Vipers Run Page 18
