Double Trouble: A Bedlam Butchers MC Romance (The Motorcycle Clubs Book 8)

by Dixon, Ruby

  “Okay,” I breathe, and look to Beast.

  He comes in and gives me a long hug, wrapping his big arms around me. As he does, my face presses to the leather of his cut and I feel grit against my cheek. Sand. He has the same weird stink to him, too, kind of like...hot metal. I wrinkle my nose and pull away, and as I do, I see dark splatters on his skin. “Is that blood?”

  “Might be,” he says. “Bad night tonight, Shy.” He drags me close again, then kisses my mouth so sweetly that I wonder how this big man could hurt anyone. “Muscle’s probably going to need you later, but I need you now.”

  After he strips down, he makes love to me again, and it’s more urgent and needy than Cal has ever been with me. Then he showers, and sure enough, not long after we’ve curled into bed together, I hear the sounds of Muscle crying out in his sleep. I get up from Beast’s bed and move for Muscle’s. Like the other nights, Jason curls around me and holds me close without ever breaking from his sleep. He calms, and as he does, Cal slides into bed on the other side, just like before.

  “Not the best of nights,” says Cal quietly.

  “What happened?”

  He pauses. “Best you don’t know. Just in case someone ever gets arrested.”

  That sends a chill through me, and I hold Muscle’s sweaty shoulders tighter. What went down tonight wasn’t good. “Bad enough to give him nightmares,” I muse aloud.

  “Probably reminds him of war,” Cal tells me.

  “War?” I ask.

  “He served several years over in A-stan. Army. Lost nearly his entire outfit during an ambush. Him and one other guy survived, and that one died a few days later. My boy Muscle here has a lot of guilt.”

  Oh. I’m filled with wordless pity for Jason, who puts on a carefree smile and a devil-may-care attitude by day and is tortured with memories by night. I hold him closer. “What about you, Cal? Any nightmares you keep tucked away?”

  “All my nightmares got left in prison,” he tells me. “Out here, I have my patch-family. That’s all I need.”

  And I wonder where I fit into that scenario.

  • • •

  Things are quiet over breakfast the next morning, and even the normally ebullient Muscle is utterly silent. I’m concerned, but I’m not sure what to do or say to get the men to open up...or even if I want them to.

  We eat, and then I clear the table. I start to do the dishes, but Muscle shakes his head. “Got club business this morning, Shy-girl. That can wait until later.”

  “O-okay.” I grimace at my stutter. For some reason I’m unnerved. I guess it’s because we’re deviating from our normal routine, and no one’s talking.

  “Get your purse,” Beast says to me. “We’re heading out.”

  “Me too?” I ask, wiping my hands on a towel. I normally don’t go along to club stuff, not since the day we went to the Roadhouse and Muscle fucked me in front of everyone and my brother found out where I was hiding.

  “You too,” Beast agrees.

  I nod slowly. The urge to run clenches through my legs, and I look in Muscle’s direction. His face is impassive, cold, shuttered. Beast, too. No one’s comforting me and telling me things are okay. No one’s telling me there’s nothing to worry about, that club business doesn’t pertain to me.

  And I know it has to do with Stuart. My entire body freezes up. “I’ll g-g-g-get m-m-m-my s-sh-shoes.”

  The ride is utterly silent. I ride double with Beast and we don’t talk, though he’s not being cruel to me. Something just feels...really off. Wrong. The feeling of wrongness continues when we pull up to the Roadhouse and there’s six other bikes parked up front. My throat aches from the knot there, and I know things are about to come crashing down.

  My only comfort? Stuart’s bike isn’t out there with the others.

  We walk inside and the restaurant is nearly empty. The only people inside are a cluster of men and one woman at the back of the place, all wearing club colors. All have grim looks on their faces and turn to stare at me. I freeze, my feet dragging to a stop.

  Muscle’s hand clasps on the back of my neck, a possessive gesture. “Come on, Shy-girl. All they want to do is ask questions. Ain’t nobody going to hurt you while you belong to me and Beast.”

  He nudges me forward and I walk with him, my thoughts swirling as we approach the unyielding group ahead of us. I’m safe while Beast and Muscle claim me, but part of me wonders if that’s about to come to an end.

  Someone pulls out a chair from one of the round tables and sets it in the center of the room, then taps the back of it, indicating someone should sit there. When Muscle gives me another gentle nudge, I realize that I’m the one in the hot seat, and a small whimper escapes my throat.

  “S’all right, Shy-girl,” Muscle says.

  I stare at the unfriendly faces watching me, and search their jackets for names and positions.

  Gemini—prez. Domino—prez. Handlebar—VP. Crash—VP. Jesus, I’ve warranted all of the club officers. I swallow hard and keep scanning faces and patches. Solo—Treasurer. Lucky—Treasurer. She’s the girl, and I get cold as I realize this is the Lucky that the Eighty-Eight were coming after. The one that Stuart was snitching about.

  I feel faint.

  To my surprise, Beast loops an arm around my waist and pulls me forward. He sits in the chair designated for me and tugs me into his lap. Muscle just chuckles and moves to stand by us. I cling to Beast as I stare out at the others.

  “You siding with her over the club, boys?” A dark blond man asks. He steps forward and peers at me, and I see the name badge again. Gemini. President. Ugh.

  “Nope,” Beast says. “Just promised to keep her safe is all. Going to keep doing that until guilt is proven one way or another.”

  I start to shake at that, tremors of fear ripping through me.

  “Looks kinda scared for someone that’s innocent,” Domino, the other president, drawls.

  It’s true—I don’t have a poker face, not even remotely. Tears well up in my eyes. I wanted Muscle and Beast because I knew they could keep me safe from Stuart. I never thought about the club turning on them. All they’ve ever been is nice to me, and I want to make sure they don’t get hurt. “M-m-m-Muscle and B-b-b-b-b-b-Beast,” I begin, hating that my stammer is out full-force. “They d-d-d-don’t know anything.”

  “Well, they know a little,” Gemini says. “Else they wouldn’t have called this meeting.”

  They...what? I try to bolt up from Beast’s lap, but his hands trap me down. “Calm down, Shy-girl,” Muscle says even as Beast holds me. “Ain’t nobody in trouble yet.”

  “Yet,” Gemini says ominously. “See, we found out a little over a week ago that we had a snitch in our midst.”

  “And about that time,” Beast says, “You show up and it’s clear you’re afraid of something and running.”

  I bite my lip, silent.

  “So we kinda put two and two together,” Muscle tells me. “And we figure you know the identity of the snitch. And that it just might be our boy Taco, and that might also explain how come he’s so damn interested in if we’re still fuckin’ ya or if we cut you loose.”

  I just shake harder, even though I’m doing my best not to. Oh god. “H-h-he’s asking about m-m-me?”

  “Every goddamn day,” Muscle says. “Fucker’s up to something. And me and Beast think, surely not. Can’t be a brother in arms, can it?” He shakes his head. “I keep thinking, well, my personal dislike’s just overriding things, because I like Lock, but Taco’s a bit of a dick, and that’s coming from me.”

  “And we all know you’re a huge dick,” someone else says.

  “Takes one to know one,” Muscle replies easily. “But anyhow, me and Beast keep wondering why he’s so damn interested in who his sister’s fuckin’ and we can’t figure it out. And then, the more we hear about the snitch business, the more we think maybe our sweet Shy-girl knows more than she’s letting on. Because one thing’s for sure...she’s scared for her life. Scared enough to
take on Beast’s monster cock.”

  Beast flips him the bird and a few others chuckle.

  Gemini’s face is still grim, though. He leans in toward me, steely gaze pinning me in place. “Now’s the time you tell us what you know, girl. If we find out that you’re holding back info on us later, it won’t be pretty.”

  Beast gives me an encouraging squeeze, and I know that if I don’t speak up now, I’ll just make things worse. It’s bad enough that they had to flush me out. My mouth works, but nothing comes out. It’s all trapped in my throat, under the knot of fear.

  “The only reason you ain’t six feet under at the moment, girl,” Gemini says in a deadly voice, staring me down, “is because of two things. One, we want to know how involved our boy Lock is, and two, these two goons are swearing you’re innocent. So speak the fuck up already.”

  This man hates me, I realize. I swallow hard as a number of things hit me. They’re going to kill me, aren’t they? Not even Beast and Muscle can save me from the club’s vengeance. They don’t tolerate disloyalty, and I’ve been more or less disloyal because I haven’t spoken up.

  Fear is what gets me to clear my throat—fear that I’m going to somehow drag Beast and Muscle down with me, when they’ve done nothing but take me under their protection and care for me. I lick my dry lips. “I-I-I don’t know that Lock is involved. I-I-I didn’t hear anyt-t-t-thing about him. Just Stuart. T-T-Taco.”

  Gemini’s face is impassive. “Keep talking.”

  So I do. Despite my stutter, the words come pouring out, my story halting. I tell them about Stuart and his secretive meetings. Hearing him talking to one of the Eighty-Eight Henchmen—a club that no one allies with because they’re well-known white supremacist assholes. The plot to attack Lucky. As I keep talking, I see faces harden against me. I’m damning myself with everything I know, but I’m screwed at this point anyhow.

  And when it’s over, Gemini and Domino just look at each other. Gemini’s fists clench and he stalks away, followed by the woman in the leather cut and a man. They begin to whisper heatedly, and I’m left staring at the unfriendly faces of Domino, Handlebar, and Crash.

  Muscle and Beast haven’t moved from my side, but I’m guessing it’s just a short time before they abandon me, too.

  “So,” Domino says, and crosses his arms over his chest. “You knew the Eighty-Eight were targeting one of us. How come you didn’t come to us and talk?”

  I blink at him. “I’m n-n-not club,” I tell him. “T-t-t-t-taco is. Why would you b-b-b-believe me over him?”

  “Your brother’s a patch,” Handlebar says. “You must know how things go. You know we protect our own.”

  I’m silent, because what can I say?

  “Shy ain’t like that,” Muscle says, speaking up. “She’s told us a little about her home life, and you know Taco’s always talking about his dad in the slammer? And the sister he’s got under his thumb because she’s scared shitless of him? It ain’t hot air.” He thumbs a gesture at me. “If that’s her only experience with the club, is it a wonder that she didn’t come to us? She went for me and Beast because she figured we were the only ones that could keep her safe if he tried anything. Beast scares the shit out of half the club as it is. So yeah, I ain’t surprised she didn’t come runnin’ as soon as she heard that shit was going down. Not if he’s threatening her life.”

  I’m surprised to hear such a passionate plea on my behalf come from brash, cocky Muscle. Of the two, I think he would care less than Beast if I was killed by the Butchers. But to hear him stick up for me...it makes new tears burn my eyes.

  “Shy wouldn’t hurt a flea,” Beast agrees, and I keep weeping, because no one’s ever stuck up for me before. Not against Stuart or my father.

  “Yeah, and when she came to us, she practically let me rape her because she was so damn scared of her brother. Took her a lot of guts to approach us and ask for protection. She looks tiny, but she’s got a backbone.” After a moment, he adds, “And she deserves a chance.”

  “I agree,” says the woman from the corner of the room. I didn’t even realize she was listening in.

  “Shut up, Lucky,” Gemini says. “Stay out of this.”

  “No,” she retorts. “I’m patched into the club, aren’t I? I get a say now.” Her mouth curves and she smiles at the two men at her side that are scowling at her. “Don’t look at me like that, Solo,” she tells a fierce looking one with sideburns. “If I was in her position, I’d have probably done the same thing. She’s right—she’s not club, and we shouldn’t treat her like she is. She’s not even property. Or at least she wasn’t when she found out the news. Is she now?”

  Both Beast and Muscle are silent. “Not until shit gets settled,” Muscle admits.

  “So let’s be fair. She’s a civilian,” Lucky says, and shrugs. “No one says civilians have to rat out their brothers, especially if they’re scared of them. I don’t know that I’d rat on Gem here for anything, and I like his ass.” She winks at the hard-faced Gemini. “If he was trying to sell my ass to the Eighty-Eight? I’d have probably headed for the damn hills instead of sticking around.”

  No money to do that, I want to tell her. The thought definitely crossed my mind more than once. That, and Stuart would have been on me like hell on wheels regardless. Fleeing would have just told him he had something to worry about.

  “But I have an idea,” Lucky said. “If she’s so fired up to prove her loyalty all of a sudden, maybe we have her help us flush out her brother?”

  Chapter Eight

  Plans are made.

  The club’s going to keep tabs on Taco for the next day or so. When he heads back to the trailer that used to be the home we shared, I’m going to go in wearing a wire. They’re going to try and squeeze a bit more information out of him, because Lock is his riding buddy, and no one likes to think that Lock might be involved. If there’s a way to bring down Taco and only Taco, that’s what they want to do.

  It gives me a bit of hope. Maybe all’s not lost.

  Of course, I’m going in by myself. If Taco decides to hold a gun to my head and blow my brains out, no one in the club’s going to mourn.

  Or will they? Because that night, I crawl into Muscle’s bed and he clutches me against him. He’s awake, not asleep, and that makes me feel even more treasured and helpless than ever before. Then, Beast climbs in on my other side. Sandwiched between both men, they hold me tight all night long. We don’t talk. We don’t make promises no one is sure they can keep.

  We just hold onto each other and wait for tomorrow, because that’s all we can do.

  • • •

  Muscle’s phone rings, and I jump to hear it. He clicks the button on the burner and lifts it to his ear while I bite my nails, curled up in the back seat of the ‘cage’ with Beast. We took a gray rental car today to try and look inconspicuous, then parked it in a nearby shopping center to wait for the call.

  As I watch, Muscle nods. “All right, we’ll send her in.” He hangs up and looks over at me. “You ready to do this, Shy-girl?”

  I’m not ready. I don’t know that I’ll ever be ready. But I don’t have a choice, so I nod. I put my hand on the handle to open the car door. Before I can push it open, though, Beast turns my head and angles my face toward his, and he captures my mouth in a rough, claiming kiss.

  “Give her tits a squeeze for me,” Muscle says in the front seat.

  Beast does, his big hand caressing my breasts as his mouth takes mine. His tongue thrusts sweetly, and I moan against him as he touches me. When he pulls away, I’m breathless and dazed from the intensity of his kiss. “Once things are settled right,” he murmurs, his gaze holding mine pinned, “You, me, and Muscle, we’re going to have ourselves a fuck. Together. Both of us on you. No holds barred.”

  “No holes barred,” Muscle corrects from the front seat, and chuckles at his own joke.

  I feel my cheeks go scarlet at the promise. “Once things are settled,” I agree. I’m not entirely sure what
‘settled’ means, but it sounds promising. With one last kiss, I get out of the car.

  The wire feels weird against my chest. It’s taped between the valley of my breasts, and the wire snakes down through my panties. My shirt’s oversized and baggy so it’s not like Stuart will be able to tell, but I feel conspicuous. I touch my mouth, still swollen from Beast’s kiss. I want this to go right, because I want that night with him and Muscle like he promised. No one holding back anything.

  There’s trash piled in bags by the front door of the trailer, because I haven’t been here to take it out. Off to one side of the house, I see what’s left of my little Metro. At least, I’m pretty sure that burned out, bullet-riddled husk was my car. CUNT is spray painted on the bumper, a testament to how my brother’s feeling at the moment.

  My brother’s Harley is nowhere to be seen, though. No cage, either. For a moment, I question if Beast and Muscle are lying to me. If the trap’s for me instead of my brother. But then I think of Beast’s sweet kiss and shake that thought out of my head. If they wanted me dead, I’d be dead already.

  And Beast and Muscle stood up for me, which makes me feel warm inside.

  I try my key on the front door and it works. Inside, I can hear a TV blaring a video game, and I steel myself, then push in as if nothing’s going on.

  The living room is a mess. Blankets, pizza boxes, and empty beer bottles are everywhere. The TV is blasting, but no one’s sitting in front of it. It feels...deserted. Like he knew I was coming and left. But that’s wrong, isn’t it? He doesn’t know I’m here. That’s the purpose of this.

  I turn off the TV. I’m just imagining things. It’s not like this is the first time Stuart’s left the TV and his game going and got up and left. He’s careless about things. Lots of things, really. “Hello?” I call out, but no one answers.