Hell or High Water (The Four Horsemen MC Book 8)

by Rayne, Sara

  She’d never expected to feel like this with Voo.

  “You don’t have to leave, ma petite.” He reached for her, then clenched his fists at his sides. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings—”

  “Stop.” She’d never hated the endearment before, but now his soft Creole tones hurt. She turned to look him in the eye, and the empathy she saw there pissed her off. She was damn sick and tired of pitying looks on people’s faces. “I’m done being called a liar. I’m not wrong. You have feelings for me.”

  He licked his lips, staring at the ground. “So I do, but having feelings and wanting to act on them are two different things.”

  “Whatever. If you don’t want this, I’m out. I refuse to stay where I’m not wanted anymore.”

  “I do want…but I can’t—fuck.” He stared down at his bare feet, jaw working. “Lex, what I’m trying to say here—”

  “I know what you’re saying.” Her lower lip threatened to tremble so she bit down on it until it behaved. Brave face time. “A simple ‘no, thank you’ will suffice. You don’t owe me an explanation. Just let me walk out of here with a little dignity.”

  His mouth opened as if he wanted to say something, but no sound came out.

  “You know what? On second thought, that was the old me.” Lex glared at him, a surge of anger smoothing the tremor out of her voice. “Fuck dignity. You can go to hell, Voo.”

  She turned and strode through the door without looking back.

  Her car was in the parking lot at Hades, exactly where Voo had told Angel to leave the cherry-red sedan. Unlocking the door with trembling fingers, she sat in the driver’s seat, her heaving breaths visible in the cool morning chill. The gris-gris on her rearview mirror swung back and forth. She considered tossing it out the window, but throwing a snit and breaking something of Voo’s was petty. Instead, she pulled it down and got out to hook it around the handlebars of Voo’s black Devil’s Advocate Chopper.

  Lex couldn’t even storm off properly.

  Half of her was pissed at Voo. The rest felt like curling into a humiliated ball like one of those pill bugs she’d played with as a kid.

  Back in her car, she started the engine and drove to Eddie’s, texting Dani to meet her at the Hot Damn Coffee Shop. Maybe she could cheer Lex up. The house was silent when she arrived, and Captain’s bike was absent from the driveway. She breathed a sigh of relief. Finding the back door unlocked, she tiptoed inside in case Eddie was still sleeping.

  She scrawled a quick thank you note on the pad by the kitchen phone then went upstairs. Grabbing her bags, she tugged them out of the guest bedroom and slipped out the front door, making sure it locked behind her. The morning air held the chill of the night’s last kiss as she locked the bags in her trunk.

  Once she got to the coffee shop, she holed up in a booth with what could only be described as a bucket of coffee. A steady stream of customers filtered through the line as she waited for Dani.

  Lex loved to people-watch for the same reasons she’d been fascinated by psychology. She noticed things most people didn’t. Lex had known her dad was in love with Eddie years before he’d said something. She’d also noticed Shep was gay a long time ago while the rest of the club seemed clueless.

  She didn’t ignore the writing on the wall, or maybe she saw it and other people ignored it. It had its advantages—she had time to prepare for the bad news and make her peace with it long before she received it.

  Lex used the keen insight on herself as well, but the analysis didn’t leave room for comforting white lies.

  “You don’t belong with a guy like me” might sound complimentary in Voo’s dulcet tones, but the truth was he didn’t want her. Not enough to do anything about it, anyway. It hurt, no matter how sweetly he’d phrased it. The Creole cook would be lucky if Dani didn’t punch him in the face after Lex told her last night’s story.

  The thought of more confrontation was enough to give her an anxiety attack.

  She distracted herself by zeroing in on the petite woman flirting with Dash as if he was the gatekeeper of caffeine. Dash had been a prospect for the MC up until last October when he and his pledge brothers were patched in. He was dating Fiona, the owner of Brimstone Ink. No matter where in Hell she went, Lex couldn’t escape the Horsemen.

  The woman wore a long-sleeved thermal shirt under a T-shirt featuring Raven from Teen Titans. The shirt read, “Evil Beware. We have waffles.” Black leggings molded to her shapely calves, and a pair of knee-high black leather boots completed her outfit.

  “No, seriously, this moment right here?” She grasped the cup he offered, her fingers brushing against his, and winked. “Best part of my day, dearie.”

  “You flirt with everyone who gives you coffee,” he said, although he didn’t move his hand away from hers. “You told Melissa she was your soulmate yesterday.”

  Her cropped dirty-blonde hair haloed in the sunlight around her pale face, but her eyes were huge, warm, and brown. Sparkling with mischief. Her voice dropped an octave. “Doesn’t make this moment less special to me.”

  “It’s special to me too, darlin’.” Dash leaned across the counter. “This is the part where you pay.”

  “And the moment’s over.” She sighed and dropped his hand.

  Watching Horsemen hit on women was perfectly normal.

  Lex shifted in her seat and cast a glance over the rim of her coffee cup at the two suits seated in the corner booth, watching Miss Hot Topic a little too closely. Federal tails—judging by the quality of ties and shoes and choice of firearm—were not normal.

  Technically, brothers weren’t supposed to share secrets with hellspawn, but Lex had pieced together a good idea of what was going on with the MC. It must’ve involved a federal investigation. She could tell by the way her dad—Mr. Big Bad Former Prez of the Four Horsemen MC—started acting twitchy in the weeks leading up to the Apocalypse Rally last fall. Nothing made him sweat—not bad guys or big guns—but every time he laid eyes on a fed, it was like he was staring down a nest of scorpions.

  What could the FBI agents possibly have on the girl at the counter?

  “Keep starin’ at her and I’m sendin’ you over to buy her a coffee and get her number.” That beautiful whiskey tenor could only belong to Pretty Boy—he must’ve snuck through the line while her eyes were on the feds. Sure enough, he stood next to her, clutching a steaming to-go cup by the cardboard circle. “Call it a college experiment if it makes you feel better.”

  He sipped his coffee, waggling his eyebrows all the while.

  “Shut up.”

  “Hug me.” He tugged Lex to her feet and wrapped his arms around her waist. His short stubble abraded her skin as he pressed a dry kiss to her cheekbone. “After you left last night, Shep told me what happened to you on campus. I’m so sorry.”

  No doubt he’d been asking why she was crying in her drink at Perdition. She swallowed. Great. I’m the talk of the MC. How many people had witnessed her desperation? “It’s over now.”

  “May I join you?” When she nodded, he dropped into the other side of the booth and she sat back down. “When Shep and I first went public, I got hassled more. I know a little about what you’re going through.”

  “Went through. It’s over now,” she repeated with a flash of irritation.

  He smiled. “Yeah, you’re carryin’ that chip on your shoulder because it’s over, sweetheart.”

  “You sound like Shep.”

  “Thanks.” He grinned. “I’ll spare you the sordid details, but there was this guy staying in town on business—came in every damn night, givin’ me a hard time. One day he yells, ‘What kind of biker bar has a fag bartender?’”

  “What an asshole.” She blinked. “What did you do?”

  “I asked him what kind of fag he thought tended bar for bikers.” Pretty Boy’s green eyes flashed. “Then I jumped over the bar and showed him by beatin’ his ever-lovin’ ass. A service I am more than happy to provide for you at any time.”


  “You’re a good friend, Pretty Boy.”

  He winked. “Don’t you forget it.”

  His flannel shirt fell open, revealing a new Crossroad Crows T-shirt. This one had a crow on a fence post with the words “I’ll be hellbent” written across its widespread wings. She gestured to it.

  “Must be the prototype for the band’s potential tour.”

  “They got an audition, and they’re real hopeful. If the Crows get it, they gotta scratch together enough cash to go.”

  “I’m happy for them.” After years of trying, the Crossroad Crows were taking off. Doors were opening everywhere since Blue joined the band.

  “Lex?”

  “Mm-hmm?” She took a long swig of her coffee.

  “Everyone saw you leave with Voo last night.” He settled into the booth across from her. “And now you’re drinkin’ coffee here, all by your lonesome, so I’m guessin’ it didn’t go accordin’ to plan.”

  “That’s one way of putting it.” The bitterness in her laugh could’ve made espresso jealous.

  A fresh wave of pain swept through her. She should’ve been drinking fresh-ground Haitian coffee in Voo’s bed. Why couldn’t this one thing have gone her way?

  “‘Sup, girl?” Arms squeezed her tightly from behind, and Lex smelled Tommy Girl and motor oil.

  She swallowed, hugging Dani for a second.

  “Why so sad? PB givin’ you advice about dick again? I keep tellin’ him there are some things we don’t need to know.” She snagged a chair from the next table and straddled it. “Wait, you don’t look like you’ve spent the last few hours in the throes of Frenchy lovin’. What gives?”

  “Voo fucked it up,” Pretty Boy answered for her. “And everyone wants my dick advice—whether they know it or not. I got mad skills.”

  Dani’s eyes widened. “I didn’t see that coming. He’s all sensitive and big on the spooky-intuitive, emotional shit. He should be good at this.”

  Lex put her head in her hands. The smaller the town, the larger the rumor mill. She needed to go someplace where no one expected anything of her. Where every action wasn’t marked by being “Cap’s daughter”.

  “You okay, sweetie? Want me to kick him in the junk?” Dani asked.

  “He doesn’t want me. It’s not a nut-cracking crime, you know?”

  “He actually said those words? I’m so sorry.”

  “Me, too.” Lex dragged a hand through her hair.

  “Whatcha gonna do?” Pretty Boy asked.

  “Give him some space? Lay low until these stupid feelings go away?” Running into Voo would be excruciating now.

  “Oh, honey.” Dani hugged her tight. “If it’s got tires or testicles, it’s bound to bring a girl nothing but trouble.”

  “Thanks.” Pretty Boy rolled his eyes.

  Lex talked with them for another hour or so, dragging out the time until she had to figure out her next move and accepting their comfort as best she could. But Pretty Boy was going home to a man who loved him and Dani still had her flirtation with Detective Frost to look forward to. Lex was empty handed. She didn’t even have a fantasy about Voodoo left.

  As she was walking out, she bumped into Miss Hot Topic. “Oh, excuse me.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” Lex forced a smile.

  “Practice that one in the mirror a few more times before you take it for another run. Let me guess, man trouble?”

  “Shows on my face, huh?”

  The woman tilted her head to the side. “Do you believe in luck?”

  “I don’t know.” Lex shrugged. “Feels a little like a fairytale to me. Not sure ‘happily ever after’ is realistic goal-setting.”

  “I’m not sure ‘realistic goal-setting’ is the point.” Her lips twitched mischievously.

  “Duly noted.”

  “Listen, you’re a local, right?” Miss Hot Topic nibbled her lower lip. “I bought a laptop off this guy who used to work at Inferno Firearms. I’m having an issue with the hard drive, but when I went back there, they said he’d closed up shop.”

  “I don’t know much about computers….”

  “Oh, mercy me, no. I meant, you don’t happen to know where he moved on to? He sold me a custom piece, and the Geek Squad won’t touch it.”

  Lex snorted. It sounded like Coyote. Considering how squirrely he’d become about security lately, he probably told Steele not to give his forwarding address. Poor girl. “I think he’s been hanging around Hades Diner, if you want to try there.”

  “Thanks, dearie.”

  Lex headed out the door, calling over her shoulder, “Try the strawberry milkshakes. You can’t beat ‘em.”

  At least someone would get to enjoy them.

  Climbing into her car, she considered sleeping in the Walmart parking lot tonight. The only hotel in town was Hades, and she was done asking to crash at other people’s places. How did things come to this?

  Lex had lived her life according to plan, and now it had unraveled around her. She’d never felt so lost. Her dad had always told her she didn’t belong in the MC. And even though it galled her, she should’ve listened. After everything with Voo, Lex couldn’t win for losing.

  Fuck this place. And fuck everyone who didn’t want her in it.

  She needed to get out of this town, out of this whole godforsaken state. Her toes twitched on the gas pedal. Her bags were in the trunk. If she wasn’t so chickenshit, she would take off and start over like Voo had.

  But where else could she go?

  There was an option left, one she hadn’t given any thought since the day of the accident. Right now, it sounded like the best idea she’d ever had. Yanking her phone out of her pocket, she swiped through her contacts and hit the call button. “Hello, Josie? It’s Lex.”

  This time, Lex would do whatever she wanted to.

  Screw the consequences.

  Chapter Ten

  Voodoo walked into Hades to start breakfast, clutching his grand-mére’s gris-gris. He’d found it on the handlebars of his chopper. The sight had left fear nibbling at his gut, like a rat. Apparently, Lex didn’t want his protection anymore.

  His stomach roiled. It would be a miracle if he made it through the morning without upchucking in one of the mop buckets.

  Angel came in behind him, shoulders hunched against the cool morning. “‘Sup, boss?”

  Ignoring the prospect, Voo crossed the kitchen to the pantry and removed the large bottle of Captain Morgan he kept for rum cakes. Dispensing with formality, he unscrewed the lid and gulped down a healthy swallow.

  Angel raised an eyebrow. “Rough night?”

  “Go clean the dining room and stop asking me stupid questions,” Voo snarled.

  Back stiff, the prospect left the kitchen.

  Fuck.

  He wasn’t fit to be around people, but he couldn’t stay home a second longer, staring at the bed Lex had vacated. He took another long pull from the bottle and cracked his neck, but the tension in his bones wouldn’t ease.

  Grabbing a whisk, he started prepping, keeping the rum close and taking his frustration out on the eggs. He never should’ve brought Lex back to his house last night. Finding another place for her to crash would’ve been a breeze, but he’d wanted her with him, needed her close.

  And now she couldn’t be further away.

  Ignoring his desires had never been Voodoo’s strong suit, and for the most part, he did as he pleased. Self-denial was against his nature. But he’d wanted to be strong enough. Wanted to get close to Lex’s heat without burning them both alive.

  His attempt had gone down in flames.

  Taking a shot of rum every time Lex’s tearful blue eyes flashed in his memory, Voo finished his prep. When he remembered to make his way to the dining room to gauge his customer’s cravings, he could barely walk straight. Glancing around the tables, people’s faces blurred as he tried to focus on them.

  Screw it.

  People always loved what he made them. It w
as his damn diner—not like the customers even had menus.

  Voo ignored Shep waving him over to the booth he shared with Jagger and ducked back through the swinging doors to bury himself in cooking. At least here, in the kingdom of his kitchen, he was in control.

  If he hadn’t lost it this morning, Lex might be sitting here keeping him company. He could be making her French toast and listening to her try to out-nerd Coyote. He plated the last of the food and hollered for Angel.

  Sinking onto a stool, he pinched the bridge of his nose. The kitchen was silent after Angel left. Considering his mood, he couldn’t blame the prospect for staying in the dining room. He rubbed his hands together, chilled by emptiness despite the burn of the rum. He lifted the bottle to his lips only to find it empty.

  Motherfucker.

  Tossing it on the floor, he savored the sound as it shattered.

  He could run to Perdition, see if Ryker would sell him a bottle this early in the morning. But he’d risk running into Cap. Maybe he’d send Angel.

  The biker in question reappeared through the swinging doors, carrying a tray laden with untouched plates of food. Shifting his weight between his feet, the prospect cleared his throat. “Um, boss?”

  “What?”

  “They don’t like it.”

  “Someone doesn’t like my food?” Voo stood, yanking his apron off. “Who?”

  “Everyone.”

  He stalked across the tile to the young man. “What do you mean, ‘everyone’?”

  “Look, you’re obviously havin’ an off day, and I ain’t tryin’ to be insulting, but maybe drinking so much rum while you’re cooking—”

  The glare he sent Angel shut his mouth. “Get out of my way.”

  “Boss….”

  Voo swept the plates from the prospect’s arms, scattering food and silverware and breaking a bowl in half. A biscuit rolled across the floor, and he kicked it as he stormed into the dining room.

  The friendly chatter stopped as he stood in front of the counter. Shep poised over his table as if about to rise, watching him. Voo scanned the other tables.