Holy shit. I’d really fucked up this time.
I knew I loved her. When I got up this morning and saw her face lying next to mine, I felt that flutter in my heart. That sappy bullshit stuff people talk about in books. My palms started to sweat, and my dick began to rise to life. I debated on whether or not to wake her up with it, for fuck’s sake. I’d let her stay over, and when her body was pressed into mine, I could feel my soul reaching out to her again.
Just like it had all those years ago.
But her being a cop was dangerous. Especially a cop here in town. With the DEA poking around and tailing The Devil Saints, it was only a matter of time before she figured out what the fuck was going on. Adding a cop into all this shit would bring more heat to me and my club, and shit would hit the fan. Beast would probably come out of the woodwork again and rain his hellfire and damnation upon all of us, and I wasn’t sure if we would survive another attack like that.
Another attack like the one that happened six years ago.
But the thing about Laiken was that she was relentless. Smart as a fucking whip and stopped at nothing until she dug to the bottom of something. When she was yelling at me last night, it didn’t shock me one bit that she’d done all that stuff. Going through my phone and smelling my clothes. Most men would’ve thought she was a crazy bitch, but that only showed me how intelligent she was. I didn’t even know she was doing that kind of shit while we were together!
She was relentless, she was intelligent, and she was sneaky. And with a cop, that was a dangerous combination.
I had no choice now. I had to cut her out of my life and for good this time. It didn’t matter how much I loved her and I didn’t matter how much I wanted her. Right now, every move I made affected the club. Every woman I sank myself into and every person I brought back with me had repercussions. And this woman-- with her job and her skills and her personality traits-- was dangerous as fuck for the club.
The ride back to her place was silent. She gave me directions to a place she was renting in town, but other than that the ride was silent. Her arms weren’t as tight around my stomach any longer, and her hands weren’t as curious about my body. She wasn’t pressing herself into me, and her head wasn’t resting on my back. All of the signs that screamed that she wanted me last night were gone in the blink of an eye, and it torched a part of me inside.
A part of me Laiken would always hold.
I hated it. I hated every fucking part of it. I wanted to go back to last night. Back to when things were a little less complicated. Not by much, but enough for us to entangle ourselves in one another. I was with Laiken, and I was already daydreaming about when it was good between us. I could remember how her hands roamed along my abs while we rode back to my place last night. How eager she was to get me out of my clothes. Her body pulsed for me last night. She had craved me last night. But now, I was obsolete.
Unimportant.
An obstacle she now needed to get rid of.
I wondered if she regretted it. Regretted coming back and sleeping with me. I could never regret being with her, but I could understand if she did with me. The moment I opened my eyes that morning, I knew I was looking at everything I ever wanted. The slivers of light streaming through the breaks in my curtains illuminated her features. The soft swell of her cheeks and the rosy red tint of her neck. There was a stream of light running just over her breast, captivating me with her nipple’s pale pink color. There wasn’t a single thing about her that morning that hadn’t taken my breath away. That hadn’t reminded me of all the shitty things I’d done to push her away.
But now, I knew it was for the best. I knew that pushing her away for good would not only keep my family safe; it would also keep her safe. She would hate me, and I knew that whatever shot at a second chance I thought we had would be gone. But I didn’t care. I knew I was doing the right thing by both facets of my life.
No matter how much it fucking burned me inside.
As we rode through town, I felt her body grow weaker and weaker against mine. Soon, she was hanging onto the handles beside her hips instead of my body. She had removed herself completely from me as she called out directions, seemingly oblivious to how she was affecting me. I could feel my chest tightening. I could feel my heart shriveling up. I could feel my anger returning in twenty-foot waves that were ready to crash down onto the shores of The Devil Saints.
Had it not been for their bullshit in the first fucking place, maybe I would’ve had a second shot with Laiken.
“Right here,” she said. “The one with the red door.”
I pulled into a small driveway attached to a quaint little home. It couldn’t have been larger than a two-bedroom home, but somehow it suited Laiken. Just enough for her to spread herself out without worrying about her shitty fucking mother. Just enough for her to feel like she had a home in a place she had run from so quickly after college.
“Can I just… ask you one thing?” I asked.
“What,” she asked as she slid off my bike.
“Where did you go? You know, after our fight.”
She slid her head from the helmet and handed it to me. I put my feet on the ground and balanced my bike, taking my spare helmet from her hand. Her eyes locked onto mine and studied me, debating on whether or not she should answer my question. And I couldn’t blame her if she didn’t. It wasn’t like I was jumping at the ready to give her any answers to her questions.
Even though she did deserve them.
“Los Angeles,” she said. “Went in and graduated from the police academy and worked with the LAPD for a little while. Got transferred here when Mom got sick.”
“Is she okay?” I asked.
“Do you fucking care?” she asked.
“I do.”
“Well, she’s not.” I hated every single part of this. I could see her walls crashing down between us. The iron gates were dropping, and her drawbridge was being rolled up. Every defense mechanism she had was being pushed to the forefront, and it only increased the distance between us I thought had been fixed last night. She was standing right there. Within arm’s reach. If I reached out for her, I could touch her. Take her hand and even bring it to my lips.
But it felt like she was miles away. A mere phantom of the woman I remembered. The woman I cherished.
The woman I loved.
“Well, if you ever need me-”
“I won’t,” she said.
“I’m just saying, if you ever-”
“Goodbye, Jace.” I watched her turn her back on me and start for her front door. My eyes danced around her body, taking in every last bit I could. The sway of her hips and the tousled aspects of her hair. The way her shirt fluttered around her arms and how her back stood tall. I sat there on my bike, clutching my spare helmet, and waited for her to get inside safely. If she was concerned about getting back to her car at the bar, she didn’t act like it.
The door to her home opened and I expected her to look back at me. I expected her to want one last look at me before she left. One last look at the man that had tried to give her everything and still protect her.
But instead, she stepped into her home and closed the door.
I felt blank. Empty. Alone and devastated. In some ways, this was worse than the first time. When I went after her and couldn’t find her, at least I was able to convince myself that had I been able to get to her, she would come back to me. I could lay my head down at night and dream of all the ways she’d run back into my arms and forgive me. But this was different. Now, I knew where she was. And I knew she wasn’t going to be accepting me anytime soon. She had my number and would never use it. I knew where she lived, and yet she would never invite me over.
I could no longer convince myself that she would forgive me. Not like I could the first time.
I stored my spare helmet in my cargo compartment before I struck my bike back up. I took one last look at her house, my eyes scanning the windows to see if I could see anything. Maybe she was looking out
at me, trying to see what I would do. Maybe she was sneaking one last look at me, trying to put up a strong front when she really just wanted me to follow her into her home.
Laiken always loved it when I chased after her after we fought.
But the house was quiet, and the curtains were still. There was no sign of her after she had shut that door, and whatever hope I’d clung to last night vanished. I kicked off from her driveway and rode away from her home, chancing one last glance in my rearview mirror before I settled my mind.
She really didn’t give a shit that I was leaving.
Riding down the road, I tried to get myself back into a different mindset. I needed to go home, clean shit up, and get back to the lodge. I knew the moment I checked my phone I’d be ripped back into that world. The world of being crammed into a lodge with people who were secretly fearing for their lives. The Devil Saints were tearing apart their own damn town just to seek revenge for something they couldn’t fucking prove. I was going to be yanked back into a world where our choice to defend women and children were about to get us fucking killed by our enemies and tracked by our government.
So I allowed myself to cling to Laiken just a little bit longer. I went home and cleaned up the dishes before I picked up the shit off my floor. I tossed the comforter back onto the bed and brought my sheet to my nose, breathing in her scent. I allowed that scent to carry my mind back to a better time. A time when The Devil Saints hadn’t gunned us down, and this impending brawl wasn’t two seconds away from imploding on itself. I was caught between two worlds. I was in love with a cop, and I was related to a gang. I was dedicated to my outlaw family, and I wanted to be dedicated to a police officer.
Holy fuck, I hated my life.
After I cleaned up my house, it was time to return. Time to cast Laiken to the side again and get back to the only people I ever considered family. No matter what decisions brought us to this point, we were all in trouble. Every single one of us stood in the path of Beast himself, and if he reigned hell down on all of us, then it could very well wipe us from the face of this earth. We didn’t have the numbers to take on another shootout like the one that happened six years ago, and that meant it was all hands on deck until this shit could blow over.
Or better yet, when The Devil Saints themselves were dismantled by the DEA.
But I wasn’t holding my breath for that shit.
Chapter 18
Laiken
I walked into my house and slammed the door behind me. I turned around and listened as his bike rode off, my body shaking with fury. I wanted to look out the window and watch him drive away. I wanted him to come after me in my own home. Hell, I was ready to run right after him, chasing him down as he rode off down the street.
But I couldn’t let him see how upset I was about everything.
It was insane, the way I felt for him. Last night had conjured up every last memory I’d tried to stifle and bury. I tried time and time again, to kill the feelings I had for him. To get past the bullshit man, he had turned into and convinced myself that he was no good for me. But last night had changed everything. The way he had defended me. The way he had fucked me. The way he had cradled me against his body and the electricity that resurrected my heart whenever he kissed me. He breathed life back into my world. He had risen my soul from the dead after leaving this entire hellhole behind.
And now, he was riding away. Without even knowing how much he still meant to me.
But it didn’t matter. He was keeping secrets already, and I couldn’t deal with that shit again. I put up with it for months, and it drove me into a paranoia I couldn’t stand. It would keep me up at nights and drive me to do things I was never proud of. It turned me into a shell of a woman that started questioning her adequacy, and I vowed never to let a man do that do me ever again. When I left this town and headed for Los Angeles, I looked myself in the mirror, and I promised myself that no man would ever have the upper hand like that again.
Yet here I was, listening to the man that always had the upper hand ride away.
I raced upstairs and cleaned myself up. I had to call a taxi, so I could go back and get my car. I was thankful it was still there, though shocked that it hadn’t been towed away. The bar was deserted, and everyone was gone, and suddenly the looming threat of last night didn’t seem so scary. Maybe it was the haze of cigarette smoke or the way Jace had taken me by surprise, but everything seemed so much more urgent last night.
But now that sunlight was shining on the place; it looked almost pathetic.
Scoffing to myself, I got into my car. I raced into work, trying to beat the clock so I didn’t have to answer any questions. I wasn’t going to start my relationship with my new captain on a lie, which meant I needed to mitigate his need to ask questions. I flew through yellow lights and raced down back roads, trying to get to the police station as quickly as I could.
There was new information the DEA had for us on this case. I hated that it was calling us in on a fucking weekend, but whatever it took to get the job done, I would help. My hometown was riddled with bullshit I would’ve never dreamed would penetrate it, and I was ready to scrape it off the sidewalk.
No matter what it took.
I pulled into the station and tried to erase Jace from my mind. I stopped by the lounge to grab me a shitty cup of coffee, dousing it with sugar and creamer to cover up the burnt taste. People always made it too strong and then let it sit on the burner for too long before pouring it out. By the time I got to it, it would always taste like burned chicken or some shit like that. But it was caffeine, and I would need it in order to focus my mind on the task at hand.
“Officer Riley, glad you could make it. The DEA agents are setting up for the briefing now,” my captain said.
“Fuck, this is shitty coffee,” I said. “Excuse my language.”
“None necessary when you’re talking about the coffee. It does that to everyone. Thanks for getting in so quickly. Meeting in five.”
I made a stop off at my desk and started rifling through some things. I grabbed my notebook and a pen so I could take new notes about the case. I choked down the rest of the coffee and almost gagged, my stomach wanting to reject all of it. I shook the sensation from my body as I got up from my seat, and that was when I caught my form my reflection in the window.
There, on my neck, was a fucking mark.
Shit.
Dashing to the bathroom, I stood at one of the sinks. It wasn’t a terrible mark, but it was dark enough for someone to make some sort of a connection. In the world of law enforcement, it was still very much a man’s game. And any insecure man working alongside a woman would latch onto anything to make himself feel superior over her. I took my hair down from the bun I’d thrown it up in and tried to situate it along my neck, covering up the mark. But instead, all it showcased was how greasy and sweaty my hair still was from the night before.
“Here, try this.”
I jumped as a woman came out of the stall and started rummaging around in her purse. She was a very pretty woman, though not dressed in a uniform. She had a badge on her clothes that assigned her to the front desk, which meant she was probably the secretary that presided over the evidence locker. Even the front desk attendants needed uniforms, but those who worked in evidence didn’t.
“The men here will slaughter you for it, so I keep it with me in my purse,” she said. “I’m Kathy, by the way.”
“Laiken,” I said.
“The new officer. Just came in… last week?”
“Essentially,” I said. “What is this?”
“It’s a concealer. It might be a little dark for your skin tone, but I’ve got a highlighter in here as well we could dust over it. Let me help.”
She pulled my hair off to the side and got to work. She washed the area of my mark and dried it off, then applied the concealer. She was right… it was a shade too dark for me. I furrowed my brow as she dug around in her purse, then she pulled out a small compact and a brush. I watche
d as she wielded the makeup, my eyes focused on her and the door as she worked. And by the time she was done, even I couldn’t tell that there had been a mark on my neck.
“Perfect,” Kathy said. “That should get you through the meeting. If you want to leave your hair down, I’ve got some dry shampoo to get rid of the light grease stains at your hairline.”
“That… doesn’t sound too bad,” I said. “But my captain has already seen me, so if I come in with my hair different, he might suspect something.”
“Oh honey, you give these men way too much credit.”
I snickered and shook my head as she went to work. The dry shampoo-- whatever the fuck that shit was-- made my hair look like I had just washed it. She pulled some of it back into a little ponytail and tied it off with my hair tie, then situated the rest of it over my shoulders. Between the makeup and the hair that partially covered it up, I was golden.
“Thanks,” I said.
“Anytime. If you ever need me again, just come down to the evidence locker. I’m never not working,” Kathy said.
“Sounds terrible.”
“Eh, I don’t like people. They exhaust me.”
“Then it sounds phenomenal,” I said.
The two of us exited the bathroom and I made my way to the meeting. I gave a friendly nod to Kathy before I slipped into the room, taking a seat in the back. My captain was there, scanning for me as my eyes met his. He furrowed his brow lightly before he nodded in my direction, and I rolled my eyes before I sighed.
So much for him not noticing.
I allowed my thoughts of Jace to fall to the wayside as DEA Special Agent Monaco took the stand. She was rattling off a few things here and there that were unimportant, and I was getting frustrated the more she continued to talk. She was recounting a lot of shit and drawing conclusions when she had no evidence for them, and I shot my captain a look.
Was he fucking kidding me with this shit?
But my attention perked up when she revealed new pictures. The board was tacked with them as we all got up from our seats. There were pictures with ‘Devil Saints’ written above the board and then there were pictures with ‘Road Rebels’ written on the other side of the board. And they were intimate pictures, too. Close up pictures with crystal clear faces. There were close-ups of people associated with the Saints unloading crates from the back of a truck. There were close-ups of people associated with the Rebels coming and going from one big building.
Protected by the Biker Page 44
