by Nicole James
He brushed the hair back from Cat’s face and stared down into her trusting blue eyes. How could he not?
He slid down her stomach, kissing every inch of her skin, determined to make it up to her for his earlier roughness. He suckled at her nipples and then glided down farther to her belly button, and then farther, spreading her legs. He noticed some small bruises the size of his fingertips and kissed each one. Then he settled between her thighs. She groaned.
“You sore, baby doll?”
She nodded.
“Blood’s gonna make it all better. I promise, baby.” Then he set his mouth to her and went about keeping that promise.
***
It was long past midnight, and Blood still hadn’t found sleep.
Cat tipped her head up from his chest to see his eyes were open. “Blood?”
“Hmm?” He stroked her back as he stared at the ceiling above the bed.
“I don’t want you to get hurt.”
He gently pushed her back down to his chest. “I won’t, pretty girl.”
She drew circles on the club tattoo over his heart with the tip of her finger. “Would you leave this all behind? Would you leave the MC?”
His hand paused in its motion on her back. Her question came just as he was thinking of doing exactly that, just not in the way she was meaning. “Why do you ask?”
She shrugged. “I just wondered.”
“Does it bother you that I’m in an MC?
She didn’t answer him. “What are you going to do about your father?”
“You ask a lot of questions.”
“And you don’t give me any answers.”
“Answers are something I can’t always give.”
“You’re not going to kill him are you?”
“Why? You don’t think he deserves it?”
“It’s not that, it’s just…”
“What?”
“I don’t want that for you. I don’t want you to have to carry the weight of that around with you. Another stone for you to carry.”
“What are you talking about?”
“That’s what your aunt said—that you carried the bad things around with you like a heavy stone.”
“My aunt needs to stay out of it.”
“She loves you. I could tell.”
“Cat, whatever I do about Black Jack won’t keep me up at night. Believe me.”
“He’s your father, Blood.”
“He’s a piece of shit. Babe, I’ll kill him, and I promise you, I’ll have no lingering regret at all.”
“You could go to prison or get killed.”
“Cat, I wasn’t asking permission.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Smack!
The loud crack of a palm on skin resonated through the room, and Cat immediately felt the sting on her butt cheek.
“Ow! What the hell?” She turned her head in the pillow to find a grinning Blood stretched out next to her.
“Rise and shine, sunshine.”
“I could think of better ways to be woken up,” she grumbled as she rubbed her sore butt.
“Yeah, so could I, but since I didn’t get woken up with a blow job this morning, I guess you’re fallin’ down on the job.”
“Hey, I could have surprised you if you’d given me more time.”
“Too late. Get up. Let’s go.”
She squinted into the morning light. “Go? Go where?”
“Today’s the day you’re getting your sister back. I’m taking you out for doughnuts to celebrate. Might be the only time we can spend together today before the shit starts rollin’ around here and I’m pulled in a dozen different directions.”
“Doughnuts? Really? Now?” Her face was still half buried in the pillow, a tangle of blonde hair falling over her shoulders.
“Yes, Miss Grouchy-in-the-morning! Doughnuts. Really. Now.”
“Ugh.”
“Guess I found out you’re not a morning person.”
“And you are?”
“I don’t sleep much, so makes no difference to me. And you are the only woman I’ve ever met who can’t be cajoled with chocolate glazed goodness.”
She huffed out a breath. “Fine.”
“Hey, if you want, I can go find some other girl to go with me.”
She sat up and stuck her tongue out at him. “I’m going, I’m going.”
He grinned and yanked her to him. “I can think of some other uses for that tongue.”
***
An hour and two orgasms later, they sat at an outside table in front of Mister Sprinkles Doughnut Shop.
Cat licked some chocolate glaze off her thumb. “You’re not going alone, are you?”
“I’m taking one guy with me.”
She paused in motion. “One. Why only one?”
“Because that was one of the stipulations.”
“But—”
“Look, Cat, there’ll be plenty of time to explain everything later, but for now I just have to follow instructions.”
“Black Jack’s instructions?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t trust him.”
“Yeah, no shit, but I really don’t have a choice. He holds the cards. It’s my only chance at saving your sister. It all depends on my father keeping his word. So right now I’ve gotta trust him.” Blood looked off into the distance.
“Blood?”
“Yeah?”
“Can we go by my place?”
“Why?” Blood looked hesitant.
She frowned at his expression. “You think they’re still watching it?”
“Probably not, but you’re safer at the clubhouse.”
“I just want to have some clothes.” She shrugged and explained quietly, “You know, for Holly.”
He gave her a small smile. “Sure. We can do that.”
***
Blood paced in Cat’s living room. They’d already spent almost two hours at her apartment. Cat had wanted to take a shower with her own bath products, and now it was taking her forever to sort through Holly’s closet.
Blood’s patience was at an end. “Yo. Come on, babe. Let’s go.”
“In a minute,” came the response from down the hall.
His cell phone went off, and he glanced at the screen. Sandman. He put the phone to his ear. “Yeah.”
“Hey, man. Where are you?”
“Picking up some shit at Cat’s apartment. Why?”
“Can you swing by Boozer’s and make a pickup?”
“Ain’t that what we got Prospects for?”
“They’re doin’ other shit.”
“Let me guess, Undertaker gave this shit job to you and now you’re pawning it off on me.”
“Well, if you want to put it that way, yeah.”
“Asshole.”
“You’re five minutes from there, douchebag.”
“Fine.”
“Later, Gator.”
“Fuck off.” Blood grinned as he disconnected. “Cat, let’s roll.”
She came into the living room with a bag over her shoulder and a small teddy bear clutched to her chest. Blood eyed the stuffed animal and gave her a questioning look.
She hugged it to her almost shyly. “It’s Holly’s. I just thought, well…”
He nodded, no further words needed. They both knew that, chances were, Holly would be traumatized, at the very least, when Cat finally got her back. He held the door. “I just need to make a quick stop on the way back.”
***
They rolled onto the lot of Boozer’s Lounge, a seedy place on the outskirts of the quarter. Regardless of it being only noon, the lot was half full.
Blood led Cat inside the dark bar. It was loud and two guys were adding to the noise, arguing with each other, several tables over. He ignored them, with little more than a cursory glance, and headed toward the bar.
A female bartender approached. “What can I get you?”
“Two shots of Crown.”
The woman moved off, and Cat
looked at Blood. “We’re drinking? I thought you were picking something up.”
“I am. Just thought you looked like you could use a drink back at your place.”
“I’m fine.”
“You sure? It’s gonna be a long day. I know waiting isn’t easy for you.”
The bartender returned and set two short tumblers down, each with half an inch of amber liquor. Blood slid a bill across the bar. “Angelo in the back?”
The woman picked up the bill. Her eyes took in Blood’s cut, and she nodded. “I’ll get him.”
“No need. I know where his office is.” He motioned for Cat to wait for him. “Get the lady whatever she wants, okay?”
The bartender nodded. “Sure thing, hon. I’ll keep her company while you’re gone.”
“Thanks.”
***
He’d been in the back for fifteen minutes listening to Angelo shoot the shit, this time going on and on about the New Orleans Saints’ chances of going to the Super Bowl this year, when suddenly the whoop-whoop sound of a squad car siren penetrated the small paneled office and melded over the loud air conditioner. Both Blood and Angelo frowned at each other. Blood pushed his shoulder off the wall, shoved the envelope Angelo had given him into his pocket, and left the rear office.
The crackle of police radios reached his ears as he headed down the back hall toward the bar. He was met with the sight of three officers in the club’s doorway, holsters undone and hands on their weapons. The two men who’d been arguing were face down on the ground. There were several tables and chairs overturned and broken glass littered the floor.
“Everyone against the bar,” one of the officers ordered the rest of the patrons.
Blood’s cut drew their attention. “You! Hands up and move with the others.”
Blood did as he was instructed and moved toward where Cat stood. On his way, he noticed a gun lying on the floor, kicked away from one of the culprits.
When he reached Cat, he asked, “You okay?”
“Yes. You missed all the fun.”
“Apparently.” Blood glanced around, and then murmured low in a voice only for Cat’s ear, “Got a problem.”
“What’s that?” she whispered back.
“I’ve got a gun on me. Not supposed to have one in any place that serves alcohol. They catch me with it, they’ll haul me in along with these two yahoos. I can’t afford to go to jail tonight, Cat. It’ll screw up the meet with Black Jack, and we may not have another shot.”
She barely hesitated before whispering, “My purse is on the barstool behind you. Slip it in.”
Cat had a big slouchy handbag. His gun would easily fit, but if they caught her with it, she’d be the one taking the fall.
“Babe, you know what could happen to you if they find it?”
“Just do it. You can’t go to jail tonight, Blood.” She moved in front of him to cover his movements, and while the officers were distracted with the other patrons, he slipped it from where it was shoved in the waistband at the small of his back and stashed it into her bag.
An hour later, after the police had taken down everyone’s names and gotten everyone’s version of events, they were allowed to leave. Cat grabbed her purse, and in her nervousness, she fumbled her grasp on the straps and one hooked on the back of the barstool. When she pulled, it yanked free of her hold and fell to the floor, the gun skidding across the linoleum.
Blood’s eyes slid closed. Shit.
An officer standing nearby saw it.
Ten minutes later, Cat was in handcuffs and being taken away. Another officer held Blood back with a hand, threatening to haul him in as well if he didn’t step back. He grit his teeth and did as he was told, knowing he couldn’t let anything fuck up the meet tonight.
As the police led Cat to the back of the squad car, she turned and called out to him, “Get my sister back for me, Blood! Please.”
“I promise, babe. Everything’s gonna be fine.”
It was hard watching her being taken away, knowing she was taking the fall for him and knowing there was nothing he could do for her now except keep his promise to her.
***
Blood walked into the clubhouse with the duffel bag Cat had packed, the teddy bear sticking out. He saw Easy watching a game of pool. He passed him the envelope he’d picked up at Boozer’s along with the bag. “Do me a favor and take the envelope up to Undertaker for me. Put the bag in my room.”
Easy straightened and took the items. “Yeah, sure. You okay?”
“Yeah. Thanks.” After Easy moved off, Blood saw Sandman sitting at the bar and approached, taking a seat next to him. A moment later, Marla brought him a beer.
Sandman turned and looked behind Blood. “You lose somebody?”
Blood lifted the bottle to his mouth. “She got hauled in, along with my gun.”
Sandman huffed out a laugh. “Say what?”
Blood shook his head. “Long story.”
“And you’re not gonna bail her out?”
“Got something to do first.”
“Yeah, what’s that?”
“Meet with Black Jack and get her sister back.”
That had Sandman straightening on his stool. “You heard from him.”
Blood turned to find Sandman’s eyes move past his shoulder to the staircase that led to the second floor, and he felt the need to set him straight. “I don’t need the club in on this.”
“Blood—”
“I can only bring one man with me.”
Sandman lifted his chin in understanding. “I’m guessing that’s one of his stipulations?”
Blood nodded. “Yeah. You on board?”
“You know I’m on board.” Sandman studied his eyes. “You got a plan you ain’t tellin’ me about?”
“The plan is I go in and make the trade.”
“The ring?”
Blood hesitated a moment. “He’ll get what he wants, and Cat’s sister goes free.”
“And he just lets us walk out of there?”
“Something like that.”
“Thought you planned to take him out. That still on the menu for the evening?”
The corner of Blood’s mouth pulled up. “Depends how it all goes down. I may have to wait for another day to serve up his just desserts. The important thing right now is getting Cat’s sister out of there.”
“You sure she’s even there?”
“Don’t know. It’s a gamble, I admit. But it’s a chance I have to take.” Blood looked at Sandman. “You want to skip this trip, I’ll understand.”
“Fuck off. Try and stop me.”
Blood downed his beer and stood. “Let’s roll.”
“Yeah, I gotta take a piss. I’ll meet you out at the bikes in a minute.”
Blood nodded. “I need to make a call to our bail bondsman anyway. See you outside.”
***
Sandman watched him go, then took out his phone and sent a text to Undertaker, who he knew was up in his office, letting him know what was about to go down.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Shades and Ghost moved to the back of Black Jack’s compound, scoping out the alley.
“We need to get up on the roof,” Shades said, looking up.
Ghost leaned back to look at the three-story historic building. “You’re out of your mind; that’s like, what..? Thirty feet up.”
“Yeah, probably.”
“And that’s terra cotta tiles. You know how hard that is to stand on? And how unstable that shit is?”
“Quit being a whiney ass,” Shades said.
“I’d like my whiney ass to stay on the ground, thank you.”
“I thought you were afraid of small spaces. You got a problem with heights now, too?”
“No, what I’ve got a problem with is falling to my death.” Ghost looked up. “Besides, how the fuck are we supposed to get up there?”
“The drain pipe.”
Ghost looked over at the hundred year old ceramic pipe. “Oh, you have g
ot to be kidding me.”
“Nope. Let’s go. You want to go first?”
“No. It’s your stupid idea, you go first.”
Shades grabbed onto it.
Ghost put his arm out, stopping him. “Hold on. Before we do this, I just want you to know one thing.”
“What?”
“Whatever happens, I really, really, from the bottom of my heart… hate you so much right now.”
Shades huffed out a laugh. “Love you, too, bro.”
He started up the pipe, grabbing onto the metal connections and shimmying up. Ghost started up after him. “You realize you fall, you’re gonna take us both down.”
“Yep.”
“And that pipe’s gonna probably break loose and fall on top of us.”
“Yep.”
“Okay. Just checkin’.” Ghost started shimmying up after him. “I guess there’s worse people I could die under a pile of rock with, huh?”
They made it to the top and lay on their stomachs, surveying the inner courtyard and the surrounding galleries that overlooked it.
A moment later, several more club members slunk up and lay along side them.
“How many men are there?” Bam-Bam asked.
Ghost turned to him frowning. “How the hell did you guys get up here?”
“Used the fire escape on the other side of the building.”
Ghost turned to glare at Shades, who just shrugged. “They said to take the back. We took the back.”
“So what’s the plan?” Bam-Bam asked.
“We need to take out the guy standing on that third floor gallery across the way.” Shades observed.
“I can make the shot, but they’re gonna hear it,” Ghost said.
“Allow me, boys.” Easy knelt with a crossbow to his shoulder. He fired, the steel point shooting silently through the air with deadly precision, hitting the man in the throat. He grabbed for his neck, staggered, and pitched forward over the railing to land with a splat two floors below on the stone-tiled courtyard.
The men peered over the edge down at the body.
“Gross,” Bam-Bam muttered.
“Clean up, aisle three,” Mud said.
