Biker's Claim: A Bad Boy Romance (Demons MC) (Contains bonus book Cocked!)

by Hamel, B. B.

  “Well, there’s the matter of our plan.”

  “You mean that completely fucked thing that’s basically useless now?”

  “Yeah, that,” he said, laughing.

  “I’ve been thinking about it.” I looked back at the building, frowning, and then back at Trip. “I think we should split up.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

  “The Mexicans only have so many guys. They can’t track us both effectively.”

  “But we’ll be more vulnerable if we split up.”

  “True. We just have to make sure we don’t get caught.”

  He frowned. “I don’t like it.”

  “What was your idea then?”

  “Can’t really say I have one.”

  “You take my parents,” I said, “and I’ll take Lacey.”

  “Good luck with that. Girl seems to despise you.”

  “Do you fucking blame her?” I leaned back up against the car again with a grunt.

  “Nah, I don’t. Why don’t you just tell them about the agency?”

  “You know we can’t do that.”

  “Cam, man, the fucking CIA doesn’t give a shit about us anymore.”

  “Maybe. But if we start telling state secrets and shit like that, we’re completely on our own.”

  “We’re on our own right now.”

  “I’m not so sure we are.”

  “Look, Cam. Tell the girl at least. Maybe it’ll help her hate you a little less.”

  I sighed and shook my head. Trip didn’t understand and he never would. He didn’t know about my past with Lacey and how she made me feel every time she was around. To him, we were just stepbrother and stepsister. But in my mind she was still Lacey, the girl I’d had a crush on ever since I first met her, the girl I thought about every time I jerked off. The girl I let go.

  “Maybe,” I said, shrugging.

  After that, we talked about where we would go. Trip decided he’d take a shot at crossing the Canadian border right away and try to travel that way. He’d cut north, which meant his trip would be shorter than mine. I was going to move through America until we hit the coast, and then start traveling north from there.

  It was going to be a long trip. Alaska was far, far away from Hammond, especially by car. We were looking at a week, possibly more, assuming we drove at least eight hours a day. And since Trip was taking a more direct route, he was going to get there a few days before I did.

  Which was good, since they were his people and he needed to make contact.

  As we finalized our plans, Lacey and our parents walked back up to us. Lynn looked marginally more interested, though Lacey still had an awful scowl on her face.

  “We need to talk,” Jeff said.

  Trip grinned at me and stepped away.

  “What’s up, Jeff? We need to get moving.”

  “First, tell us what’s happening.”

  I nodded. “We’re going to Juneau, Alaska. Trip knows some people there, people that can keep us safe.”

  He frowned, looking skeptical. “How do you know that’s true?”

  “Trip is as fucked as we are.”

  Trip raised an eyebrow, pretending like he hadn’t heard.

  “Assuming these people are real, what then?”

  “Then we wait.”

  “How long?”

  “Weeks, months. Maybe years.”

  “We can’t just hide out in Alaska for a few years. We have a life.”

  “I know, Jeff. I’m hoping it doesn’t come to that.”

  “Me and Lynn were talking. What if we called the police but you guys left?”

  “Not happening.”

  “We’ll take the risk. We understand.”

  “Listen to me, Jeff,” I said, getting in his face. “If you leave with Lynn right now, you will die. But not quickly. The Mexicans will torture you for information about me first, and you’ll give it to them. Then I’m fucked and you’re fucked and we’re all dead.”

  “It can’t be that simple,” he said, exasperated.

  “It’s that fucking simple.” I looked at Lacey and Lynn. “Anything else?”

  “When did you become such an asshole?” Lacey asked.

  I ignored her. “We have a new plan.”

  “Great,” she mumbled.

  “We’re splitting up.”

  They looked stunned and angry all at once.

  “Absolutely not,” Jeff said.

  “I’m not splitting up from anyone,” Lynn nearly yelled.

  “You changed,” Lacey whispered, shaking her head.

  “Calm down,” I said loudly, raising my hands. “Listen to me. We’re still meeting in Juneau in a few days, but we’re going different ways. Jeff and Lynn, you’re going with Trip.” I looked at Lacey and gave her my best grin, almost loving her reaction. “And you’re with me, Lacey girl.”

  “No, thanks,” Lacey said. “I’m not going anywhere with just you.”

  “It’s for the best,” Trip said, rejoining the group.

  Jeff and Lynn spoke at the same time, both saying how they’d rather call the police, how they’d rather take their chances, the police can surely help, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I knew they were in shock and didn’t understand how serious their situation was, but they were being such stubborn idiots.

  “Enough,” I said, yelling over them. “Get in the fucking car right now.”

  Jeff blinked. “Don’t talk to us that way. We’re just scared.”

  “I get it,” I said slowly. “But you haven’t figured it out yet. There is no arguing or discussing right now, because a gang of violent drug dealers wants to murder us all. Me and Trip are your only way out.”

  “Okay,” Mom said suddenly. “Okay, we’ll go with him.”

  Everyone was quiet for a second, and the tension suddenly seemed to drain from the moment.

  “Are you sure?” Jeff asked her.

  “I don’t know why Camden is involved with these people, but he saved us earlier. I trust him.”

  “Thank you, Mom,” I said softly.

  She walked up to me and hugged me tightly. “Promise we’ll see you in a few days.”

  “I promise.” I returned the hug, feeling a mess of emotions.

  She let go and stepped back, gave me a quick smile, and then ducked into the car. Jeff frowned at me for a second and then followed her.

  “Better go before they change their minds,” I said to Trip.

  “See you in Juneau, brother.”

  We clasped hands, and then he climbed into the car. I walked to the back of the car and patted the trunk. He popped it, and I smiled ear to ear. Trip was one prepared motherfucker.

  I grabbed one of the two duffel bags and shut the trunk. Trip gave me a thumbs-up and then pulled out toward the on-ramp.

  I watched them disappear onto the highway before turning back to Lacey. She was staring at me with this strange look on her face.

  “Guess it’s just us now,” I said.

  “You realize we’re stranded here?”

  I laughed. “I guess we are.”

  “Seriously, we don’t have a car.”

  I looked around the parking lot. “Plenty of cars around here.”

  “Camden.”

  “It’s okay,” I said, grinning. I felt excited for the first time in a long time as Lacey stared at me. I took her body in, running my eyes up and down her figure, and then reached into the duffel to pull out a small stack of cash.

  “We’ll pay for whatever we take,” I said, laughing loudly.

  7

  Lacey

  I’d never seen someone steal a car before.

  Camden made quick work of it though as my heart hammered in my chest. It wasn’t the worst thing that was happening at the moment, I figured, but it was definitely pretty bad.

  “We’re stranding someone else here,” I said to him as he popped open the lock with a long black tool slipped between the window and the doorframe.

  “I’m aware o
f that.”

  “And that’s okay?”

  He looked at me and shook his head, not responding. He climbed into the front seat and began to take off the bottom panel near the ignition.

  “Seriously, Camden, after everything today, we’re just stealing a car?”

  “We’re in a hurry,” he said, concentrating on his task. “Now stop talking and make sure nobody is coming.”

  I scowled at him for a second. I had to admit, it was pretty impressive how quickly he got the door open and was inside. He looked competent and serious as he began to fiddle with some wires, a screwdriver-like tool shoved into the ignition.

  But he was stealing a car. Even back in the day, when I knew he was trouble, he kept that part of him away from me. At least, he didn’t let me see it directly. I was a good person, or at least I always thought I was. I’d never stolen anything in my entire life, let alone some crappy sedan from the parking lot of a rest stop. Even though I knew we needed it, knew that not getting a car could mean something way worse than whatever was going to happen to the owner of the car, I still felt bad.

  “Fuck yeah,” he said as the engine suddenly turned over and the car came to life.

  I looked in at him. “Proud of yourself?”

  “Always.”

  “You shouldn’t be.”

  “Whoever owns this car isn’t being chased by violent criminals.” He grinned at me. “Hurry up and get in. We have a lot of ground to cover.”

  I walked around to the passenger side and climbed in with a huff. I watched as he put his tools back into the duffle and began to count out the bills, all of them hundreds. He rolled them into a tight ball and wrapped a rubber band around their bulk.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Like I said, paying for it.”

  He reached out of the car and dropped the wad of bills on the ground.

  “How do you know the real owner of this car is going to get that money?”

  “I don’t. But the universe tends to right itself sometimes.”

  “That’s crazy.”

  He shrugged, putting the car into gear. “We picked a car parked relatively far away from the others on the opposite side of the building. I’m guessing that the person who owns this car also works here and that this spot doesn’t get much traffic. I’m confident he’ll find it.”

  “This is insane,” I mumbled for the hundredth time that hour as Camden laughed and pulled out into traffic.

  We were back on the road, keeping up with traffic but not driving too fast, heading west toward the coast. I crossed my arms and leaned back in my seat, pointedly not talking to Camden.

  My mind drifted as the sun set and the miles added up. I thought about my Dad and Lynn, about what they had seen that upset them so much. I knew Camden had killed someone, but I hadn’t actually witnessed it. The idea of Camden shooting a Mexican gangster was so absurd and fake that I really wasn’t treating it like it had happened.

  But it was real, it was all real. I’d been convinced of that, as much as I hated it. We were in the thick of something that I didn’t understand, all because of him, that cocky bastard.

  For some reason, as we hit the third hour of our drive and I began to feel tired, a memory came rushing back. It was early on in our relationship, right around when we finally decided we’d give in to what we wanted and try being together.

  I looked around the party, completely lost for words.

  I didn’t recognize a single person there, and I felt totally out of place. Where everyone else was dressed in dark colors, mostly black, and had at least one tattoo, I was in my usual cardigan and sweater and jeans combo, my hair up in a tight bun.

  I walked across the party, stepping over broken bottles as the voices of the people echoed off the old bridge’s stone walls. I moved farther into the tunnel, feeling more and more awkward as I went.

  I wasn’t boring, but I hadn’t been to any crazy parties, either. As far as parties in Hammond went, the bashes thrown down near the river under the old shipping bridge were about as crazy as it got. I’d never considered going before, or at least not until Camden had invited me.

  “Hey, girl,” someone called out. I ignored the voice and kept moving. “Hey, I’m talking to you.”

  I looked over and saw a guy on the shorter side, his hair buzzed short and faded up from his ears, his baggy jeans sagging off his hips and his basketball jersey probably two sizes two big. He was pale white and grinned this awful smile.

  “Me?” I asked tentatively.

  “Ain’t nobody else around, girl,” he said, stopping in front of me. “What’s your name?”

  “Lacey. I’m looking for someone.”

  “You found him. I’m your new someone.”

  “Um, no, sorry. I’m looking for Camden.”

  “This is Indiana, girl. Camden is all the way over in Jersey.” He laughed loudly at his own joke and I began to inch away.

  “I have to go,” I said, turning away.

  “Hold up, don’t be rude. That joke was mad funny.”

  I began to walk away, but I suddenly felt him grab my arm, pulling me back. I gasped, fear jolting through me.

  “I said, stay.”

  “Get off me, creep.”

  “There a problem?”

  I looked up, and relief washed over me as Camden appeared, his arms crossed, anger etched on his face.

  The guy let me go. “Yo, Cam. What up, man?”

  “Why are you touching her, Slim?” he asked. I took a few quick steps away, standing beside Camden.

  “Camden, it’s fine,” I said to him.

  Slim’s eyes widened. “Shit, you’re Camden? I didn’t know your full name, man. I mean, I would never fuck with your bitch.”

  Camden’s fist moved faster than I thought possible, striking out and taking Slim directly in the nose. Slim stumbled back, gasping and holding his face as Camden came on, hitting him again and again in the face until Slim fell to the ground. Blood was running from a gash over Slim’s eye and from his clearly broken nose.

  “Camden!” I yelled, horrified.

  “Don’t talk to her like that again,” he said, standing over Slim.

  The party didn’t seem even slightly bothered by the event. People were staring, but most of them were smiling or laughing at what had happened.

  Slim nodded. “Is cool, mahn,” he said through his hands. His voice was nasally and strange, probably because his nose was broken.

  I couldn’t watch anymore. I walked as fast as I could back toward the cars, needing to get out of there. I’d never seen someone get so violent so suddenly. Frankly, it was terrifying, not at all the Camden I thought I knew.

  “Lace, wait.”

  Camden caught up with me and matched my stride.

  “Why would you bring me here?” I said quietly.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “And why would you start a fight?”

  “That wasn’t a fight. He couldn’t talk to you like that.”

  As we reached the edge of the party, I whirled on him. “You don’t get it, do you?”

  “Go ahead, explain.”

  “I don’t know anybody here. I stand out like a lighthouse. And you’re nowhere to be seen.”

  “I found you. I took care of that asshole.”

  “It doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t have put me in that position in the first place.”

  “These are my people,” he said simply.

  I stalked off again, and he followed me back toward the cars.

  I didn’t know why I remembered that one particular fight. I couldn’t even remember what happened after that or how we ended up making up. It probably involved his hands cupping my ass while he pressed his hard dick against my body.

  But it was such typical Camden. He meant well, wanted me to fit into his dangerous and strange life, but I just simply didn’t. He wanted to fix everything his way, regardless of what anyone else wanted, and was so stubborn and pig-headed
that he didn’t see how it affected me.

  But he was also kind and protective and strong. He took no shit from anyone.

  I stifled a yawn and glanced down at the clock. The car ride had been mostly silent, punctuated by Camden changing the radio station. The clock said it was eleven thirty.

  “When are we stopping?” I asked him.

  “Soon,” he grunted.

  “I’m tired. And you’ve been driving for hours.”

  “I’m fine.” I knew that was a lie, though. I could see the stress and the exhaustion in his eyes.

  “Let’s stop soon. We’ll start up early tomorrow.”

  He glanced at me, frowning. “Now you’re playing along?”

  “I don’t have much choice.”

  “No,” he said, looking back at the road. “You really don’t.”

  We were quiet for some time as the miles slipped past. My stomach growled and I had to pee, but he didn’t seem like he was in any mood to stop driving. Finally, right around midnight, he turned on his turn signal and exited the highway, driving toward some small town.

  “Where are we?” I asked him.

  “Not sure. Somewhere in Illinois.”

  We drove for another ten minutes until a string of ratty motels appeared. He chose the one in the middle, slowly pulling into the parking lot.

  “Not exactly a Hilton,” I mumbled.

  He looked at me. “We’re going to be staying in shit holes and worse until we get there. Places that take cash and a fake name and don’t ask questions.”

  “I get it.”

  “Do you get it? Have you figured out what’s happening?”

  The anger in his voice surprised me. “Don’t talk to me that way, Camden. None of this is my fault.”

  He took a deep breath and visibly composed himself. “You’re right.”

  “I know. You think I’m not scared?”

  “You’re not acting like you are.”

  “What do you want, Camden? Want me to cry hysterically and freak out?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “I’m trying very hard just to keep it together. I don’t need you making it worse.”

  His expression softened. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  We sat in the car for a second quietly. “I’m hungry,” I said finally.

  “Me too. Think this place does room service?”