Outlaw's Wrath - An MC Brotherhood Romance Boxed Set

by Glass, Evelyn

  “Hank? What is this?”

  “These three men attacked my girlfriend tonight, and would have tortured and raped her, then killed her, if I hadn’t happened by and seen this truck,” Hank said. Then he reached out, grabbed ahold of Ernando, and pulled him off the back of the truck onto the concrete drive.

  “Ernando? You killed him?” Orlin asked.

  “No. These two are dead. Dead and long gone. But I figured that you would want to see Ernando.”

  Orlin looked down at Ernando, and he could see a great deal of pain in his eyes.

  “He just invaded her home? Just did it?” Orlin asked with shock.

  “Yes. So, he wasn’t under orders from you, then?”

  “Me? He was under orders not to come near you again! It looks like he took the command literally and went for your woman instead!”

  Orlin sighed. “You, of course, had every right to kill him—”

  Hank’s hand glided out from his pocket. He brought the pistol into alignment as he said, “Good,” and shot Ernando in the head.

  Hank kept the gun in his hand, and he listened as the report of his shot vibrated off the walls around them.

  Orlin continued to look at Ernando’s body, seemingly trying to reconstruct the moment when he miscalculated Hank.

  “I’ll call a cab,” Hank said after a few minutes passed.

  “Hank?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Do you like this truck?”

  Hank walked back and looked it over. “Well, the paint job has to go, but other than that, it’s a sweet ride.”

  “It is yours. I’ll have the papers transferred and the license with the DMV transferred to you as well. Would you mind removing his companions from the bed, please?”

  “Not a problem,” Hank said, and he pulled the two corpses from the bed, piling them down next to Ernando.

  Orlin reached his front door and then came back. “Hank? It is over and what is done is done, but how could you know that I wouldn’t kill you for doing that to Ernando?”

  “You mean, after telling me I had a right to, and then actually doing it? Well, I didn’t. Because I wasn’t seeing you or these bodies. I was seeing Ernando trying to get between my woman’s legs with a knife at her throat while telling her that she’s just a body to him. She means nothing. And I have to tell you, Orlin, I might have been sorely tempted to do it even without your permission.”

  “I see,” he agreed.

  “Well, that makes one of us,” Hank said.

  “I don’t understand?”

  “I have been through all of the checks, all of the low-level crap operations and everything else to prove I am committed to your service. I don’t understand why he was there, or why now. My girl’s going to leave me because I wouldn’t let her call the cops. I really like you, Orlin, and I respect you a great deal as a leader. I’m just hoping that following you will lead to greater things, because I have a lot invested in this. But if you don’t think it is going to work out, then just tell me. I can move on and you can get someone else that suits you.”

  “No, no, this had nothing to do with you. I do not know why, but … maybe that trick we did with him … he was very superstitious. Tomorrow you will be here?”

  “Yes, tomorrow I will be here.”

  “Then tomorrow we will start fresh, with no bad blood between us.”

  “Alright, no bad blood,” Hank said, and he went to the cab and got inside his new truck.

  As he drove down the hill and into the city of El Cajon, Hank went over what he said and how he said it, and he found his performance acceptable. He ran a hand across the dash of the truck. It really was a sweet ride. How Ernando could afford this as an enforcer, Hank couldn’t guess. It certainly was way out of Hank’s tax bracket.

  Driving home, he kept his eyes on the mirrors and his instincts alive. First thing tomorrow, he had to get this thing into the paint shop and get new tires on it. There was no telling what kind of heat had been attached to this truck by Ernando and his friends. The truck was going to come in handy, though. Very handy. He was concerned about getting all the gear he needed out to the mesa on his Harley, and he almost decided to risk renting a truck. This thing was a screaming hot rod, but it also had a truck bed.

  “Yep, this is going to work,” he said.

  Taking out his phone, he called Knight. “Just an update. We had a problem at Cyn’s tonight.”

  “Yes, Cyn called me just a little while ago. She said that now that she understands the full risks involved, she wanted in.”

  “In?”

  “That’s the way she put it. I think what she really wants is to know what you are doing, and be someone you can talk to, work things out with. She came up to the club, did you know?”

  “She said something about doing some things there, yes.”

  “She came in here wearing clothing splattered with blood — I’m assuming it was the blood of the men that wanted to rape her — and picked a few fights.”

  “Um, really?”

  “Yep. Learning about her home invasion made it all make more sense. She looked like a bloody Valkyrie coming through that door. I was going to reprimand her for challenging patch holders like that, but I’ll let it go for now.”

  “She didn’t get hurt, did she?”

  “Hurt?” Knight laughed. “No, she didn’t get hurt. She put two down, though, put them down hard. James spoiled her fun. I’m sure she could have gotten one or two more challengers. James came in and announced his sponsorship of her. As soon as he was going to join the fray with her, four of them ran away.”

  “I don’t blame them. I would run, too. But, why? What were her challenges?”

  “She made that very clear. The rumors have risen back up about you, and they were reaching critical mass. The driving fire was that she was lying for you. She took that very personally. So, she came here to let the riders know exactly how far she intended to go if someone decided she was a liar or a whore.”

  “And James backed that?”

  “Not exactly. He’s given her complete protection of the rough riders. She’s absolutely off limits. But when I asked him why he even bothered, he told me, ‘You had to have been there. It was beautiful, perfect, total control of balance, weight, everything.’ So, take from that what you can.”

  “So, how bad are the rumors?”

  “Well, from what she challenged them with down there, five of them were going to ambush you at your house tonight. She laid one of them out and James chased the other four away.”

  “Three of them tried that the other day,” Hank said absently.

  “What? Why didn’t you tell me this?”

  “Sorry, on the scale of things of importance to me, it was way down underneath things, and I just forgot it was there.” Then he laid out the story.

  “Damn, we can’t use Rick now. I thought he was better than that,” Knight growled.

  “Replace him with Boston.”

  “Boston? Are you serious?”

  “You’ll be pleasantly surprised. He’s going to be one of our pillars soon. I can see it in him.”

  Then Hank added, “Oh, Knight, while we are on the subject of things I’ve forgotten to check in with. I’ve proven that Derrick was intending to sell us out to the Ruiz cartel that night. He used the same clearing we used together four years ago. Anyway, from the looks of the tracks, someone followed him there, out of sight. While Derrick waited, for probably ten or fifteen minutes, the other man got behind him and capped him out. Then he took the box of information Derrick intended to selling to the Ruiz cartel and left the area.

  “The cartel man, specifically Ernando Delvalle, arrived a little while later. He got out of his truck but didn’t approach the body. Seeing nothing nearby, he got back into the truck and left.”

  “You are absolutely sure it was Ernando Delvalle,” Knight said.

  “That’s actually the part I’m most sure about,” he told Knight. He explained about the racing slick
s Ernando used for regular tires. “Fucking turn on a dime, and feels great when you are taking off and giving it some rope.”

  “How would you know?”

  “Because I’m in it, driving it home right now. Orlin gave it to me as recompense for Ernando’s actions.”

  “Alright. What makes you unsure about these other things? Derrick was shot in the back of the head. By a .38 actually, according to the current copy of the police report I have. What part is wrong?”

  “The part where someone sneaks up on a man who is nervous as fuck, and has been tweaking hard for a long time. He had to have reached the paranoia stage by that time. You can’t sneak up on a guy like that,” Hank explained.

  “Sure, I get that, and I agree,” Knight responded. “Not out there in the black, alone and jumpy about every noise. So, perhaps our man shot him from the edge of the clearing. Then he went up, checked the body, took the box, and did that broom thing you told me about.”

  Hank grunted agreement. “That would work with what I saw, but I’ll bet if you check your police report, you’ll find he had powered burns in his hair and around the wound.”

  “I’ll check, hold on,” Knight said. Hank heard several pages being turned. “You’re really scary at this. Yes, the coroner suggests that the gun was only six to eight inches away from the victim’s head when fired.”

  “I know I could catch this guy if I had the time, but I don’t. I just don’t. In fact, I am out of time.” Hank sighed.

  “Well, back to your girl: she wants to help. She apparently handles dangerous situations with some grace. She likes you, a lot, and I personally do not think she would willingly share information with anyone. How would you feel about being able to open up with her? Tell her what’s going on. Would it help to process things? Keep your edge?”

  “It could help, and if it doesn’t, then what is the loss?” Hank pointed out.

  “So, you trust her with your life, then.”

  “Absolutely. And after what I saw earlier, I might even trust her with yours.”

  “Interesting.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  When she heard the engine of the truck pull up to the house, she sat up in the tub, suddenly feeling alone. Her hand went down the side of the tub near the wall, and her hand hit something leather and metal. It only took a moment to realize what it was. She pulled the Glock 9mm from the holster nailed to the wall back there and looked it over.

  “Bless your soul, Hank,” she breathed.

  The door of the house opened, and she was about to call down, but when she caught sight of her cellphone, she stopped. Instead, she picked that up and speed-dialed Hank’s number. Downstairs, she heard his phone go off.

  “Hello?”

  “Just checking that it was you down there. I’m stealing a bath from you right now.”

  “Well, enjoy. You deserve it after the night you’ve had. I’m going to get some food together. Hungry?” he asked.

  Suddenly she was starving. When was the last time she had eaten? This morning? Last night? “Yes, I definitely could use some food. Don’t you have leftover pot roast? Let’s eat that.”

  “Yeah, good idea. I’ll throw that together.”

  “I’ll get dressed.”

  “No rush there, lover. Come as you are and all that.”

  “Well, let’s see. I’m naked, and sudsy, and wet and steamy, and I have a Glock 9mm pistol in my hand with the safety off and a round in the chamber.”

  He was quiet for a moment. “Why does that make me hard as a rock?”

  “Because you always are. It’s fascinating. Come show me.”

  “Nope. Got to get dinner ready.”

  “I’ll rub my gun on my thigh for you,” she offered with a come-hither voice.

  “On my way.”

  After some posing and fun, she got out of the tub and gave him a long kiss, and then she pressed into his embrace. “I was so scared earlier. Seriously scared.”

  “So was I. I saw that truck and I thought I lost you.”

  “Well, your timing was wonderful.”

  “Think so? I was thinking maybe an hour earlier would have been better.”

  “Maybe, maybe they would have adjusted their plan, or just waited for you to leave,” she countered. “As it was, you came in right when I needed you, and you took care of the problems I couldn’t quite take care of myself. It was perfect. So, do you have many of these guns around your house?”

  “Yes. Several, in fact. Twelve. And twenty knives,” he told her.

  Her eyes sparkled. “You’re my kind of crazy. Um … could I perhaps borrow one until I can get my own?”

  “Sure, but not that one. That tub is a good place to head for if there is a lot of firepower downstairs. That heavy son-of-a-bitch could take a lot of lead before the enamel would even get chipped. Put that one back and take the one from the far side of the bed. Under, about the middle.”

  “Alright,” she agreed, and then skipped in and replaced the bathroom weapon. She retrieved the same make and model from the bed. “Why Glocks?”

  “A friend had twelve of these for sale, and after checking them all out at the range, I bought all twelve. Figured it was a good investment. When was the last time you were on the range?”

  She bit her lip searching her memory. “When I was nineteen, maybe?”

  “There’s one in Lakeside. Call James; he’ll probably go with you the first time to let you get a feel for the place.”

  “James! Why would I call him?”

  “Well, from what I heard about you picking on the boys down at the club, James took quite a liking to you. He doesn’t offer to help, ever. Your fights are your fights, and his fights are his. Last night, he told the club that he not only condones what you did, he is willing to fight for it. It might be a good chance to find out more about him. He’s a very interesting guy.”

  She put on one of his shirts and then followed him downstairs to stand around in the kitchen while he fixed up some dinner.

  “What do you know about him?” she asked Hank.

  “Well, first off, he’s gorgeous and turns even smart women like you in to molten puddles of butter.”

  She laughed and couldn’t believe he had said that.

  He glanced at her, his face completely serious. “What? I hear it from every woman who meets him. And poor Sally,” he told her.

  “Stop,” she laughed. “Seriously. Four strong men who were certain they could take on you on ran from him tonight. They didn’t hurry out; they ran.”

  “Yeah, well, James can have that effect on people who know him and piss him off.”

  “So, give. What’s up?”

  “Well, he’s an absolute master in hand-to-hand. His knife skills are good, but his pistol skills are phenomenal. At thirteen, I heard, he took State Champion in combat range.”

  “Seriously?” Cyn asked. “My dad competes in that! Hold on. What time is it? He could be up.”

  After a moment, she called up her dad and asked if he had ever heard of a competition marksman named James Rath. “With an R, not a W first.”

  “I know of him. Can’t have a youngster like that kicking your ass every year and not remember his name.”

  “So this is real. He’s really better than you on a combat course.”

  “Probably better on any course. And he’s not just good. I’m good. Even great. That boy … the bullets just went where he looked, without error. And, to top it off, he’s ambidextrous. There’s probably a demonstration film he did one year, of multiple targets around him, and him shooting in two separate directions, turning and cutting apart all of the targets. It’s probably on YouTube somewhere. Why the interest?”

  “Well, I kind of got in a little tiff with some of the local guys, and he backed me up. And when he did, all of a sudden, in this room full of seriously tough men, no one wanted anything I had to offer.”

  “I’m not sure if it is true, but a bio on him once said that he began martial arts training at three
. That seems far-fetched to me. Five, I can see; four is pushing it. Three? The awareness for training just isn’t there yet.”

  “When was the last time you had a three-year-old running around?”

  “Last night.”

  “Really?”

  “Beth. She’s nice. Single mom, works hard. You should probably get to know her.”