FALLEN GOD_GODS OF CHAOS MC_BOOK EIGHT

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FALLEN GOD_GODS OF CHAOS MC_BOOK EIGHT Page 5

by Honey Palomino


  “Nice to meet you, ma’am, I’m Nate,” he said, his voice rough and dry as rust. “I can show you around.”

  “Thank you, Nate,” I nodded, before turning back to Randolph, who was eying Nate up and down like a judge. “I’ll be back. See what you can find out about the new victim.”

  Nate and I turned and walked down the dirt drive, leaving the others at the gate as we made our way to the clubhouse. The sound of his boots grinding into the dirt with each step echoed up into the trees that towered over us.

  “How long have you been with the club, Nate?” I asked.

  “The Gods? Just a few months,” he answered, quietly, gruffly.

  “Oh, that’s not long. What did you do before then?” I asked.

  “I was in another club.”

  “Which one?”

  “The Loyal Gentlemen, out of Salem.”

  “Oh,” I answered. “I’ve heard about that club. Disbanded because the leader went to jail, right?”

  “Yeah, Asher. My old man.”

  “Oh, I didn’t realize,” I said. “Tough break.”

  “Yeah. Whatever. It is what it is,” he replied, refusing to meet my gaze.

  Silence fell over us as we approached the cluster of cabins, the first of which was clearly much older than the others.

  “What do you want to see?” Nate asked, pushing a lock of hair from his eyes. His hands were large and strong, with thick fingers and wide palms. My eyes trailed upwards, lingering on his muscular forearms, the thick veins pulsing rhythmically as he moved. I swallowed hard, my stomach flipping as I watched.

  “Ma’am?”

  “What?” I asked, snapping out of my trance. “Oh, right. I’d like to look in all the cabins, please.”

  “We can start here,” he said, shuffling up a small staircase that led to the wide front porch. He held open the screen door and I walked in. It was small and cozy, with a small kitchen and bar on one side, a large dining table nearby and a tiny living room with a fireplace next to a couch. It looked nothing like I expected, in fact, it reminded me of a cabin my grandma owned in Rhododendron when I was a child. It even had the obligatory crocheted blanket thrown over the back of the couch.

  “This is a far cry from what I expected from a bunch of bikers,” I said.

  “We aren’t like other bikers,” he replied, his voice laced with defensiveness.

  “Right,” I said, nodding. “So who lives here?”

  “Most of us live here,” he replied. “Slade lives in Portland with his girl. Bones lives in Portland, because he’s a doctor at OHSU. All the rest of us live here on the property, though, not all in this one cabin. We’ve spread out a bit. And we’re in the middle of building a few new ones, too. Grace and Ryder have their own place, just up the way.”

  “I’d like to see the others,” I said.

  “Of course,” he replied, leading me back out the front door and back down the steps. He strolled to a new cabin not far from the first, the one Grace had welcomed me into yesterday. It was beautifully built, with gorgeous craftsmanship and a spacious front porch that begged for an old lady in a rocking chair and a pitcher of iced tea. He paused to let me walk in first.

  It was just as cozy as the exterior suggested, with a huge stone fireplace that took up an entire wall of the living room. While it was tastefully decorated, I couldn’t help but notice there was a lack of personality. Absent were family photographs or discarded boots or stacks of mail.

  “Who lives here?” I asked.

  Nate hesitated before answering, glancing at me sideways and scratching his neck.

  “Nobody really,” he said. “It’s more of a guest home.”

  “You have lots of guests?” I asked. I knew all about Solid Ground. I knew they were supposed to be some top secret operation, and the Gods like to keep everything hush-hush. But it’s not easy to keep secrets from the FBI. I knew everything I needed to know so far. Later, I’d dig into each individual member’s history, but for now, I was only asking Nate questions I already knew the answers to.

  “Occasionally,” he replied. We're both playing our parts perfectly, I mused. He’s the silent type, offering as little information as possible, and I’m playing with him, sizing him up, determining how much I could trust him, if at all.

  My gut told me the Gods were innocent, that these dumped bodies most likely didn’t have anything to do with them. But logic told me I’d be a fool not to investigate them, not to mention a crappy Agent.

  Due diligence.

  That’s what it was all about.

  And if I had the pleasure of playing a little cat and mouse with a hunky, tattooed biker, well then, all the better.

  “How many cabins are there in total?” I asked, turning back to him abruptly, my gaze crashing into his. I held it tightly on purpose, peering deeply into his dark eyes to see how far he’d let me in. It was a trick I’d learned from my Dad. The more someone flinched from meeting your gaze, he’d told me, the more they had to hide, the more uncomfortable you made them.

  I wondered what Nate had to hide when he turned his eyes to the floor after a flash of a second.

  “Well, there’s the original clubhouse, the two guest houses, Grace and Ryder’s place, the new barrack’s and the two cabins that aren’t finished yet.”

  “Who’s building the new cabins? Do you have contractor’s on the property? Builders?”

  “We’ve been doing it all ourselves.”

  He turned away, heading for the door. He stopped and turned back.

  “Do you want to keep going?”

  “Sure,” I said, suppressing a smile. He was obviously uncomfortable and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t relishing in that fact.

  That was something the badge gave me that I didn’t possess on my own.

  If Nate met me in a bar and didn’t know who I was, if my hair was hanging down around my shoulders in thick waves and not severely pulled back into a tight knot at the nape of my neck, and I wasn’t wearing this bland, grey suit, he’d most likely be cocky and confident in my presence.

  But he only saw the badge.

  And most likely, he’d been warned. Grace was smart. She’d know to instruct them not to talk, not to give too much away. The poor guy was probably shaking in his boots, especially if he’s new and eager to impress the boss.

  Suddenly, I felt a little sorry for him.

  As we walked to the next cabin, I slowed my pace and offered a soft smile.

  “That’s really too bad about your Dad. Do you visit him often?” I asked.

  He looked down at me with surprise, his dark eyes widening, allowing a flash of sunlight to illuminate the golden flecks I’d not noticed earlier.

  “No, he won’t let us visit,” he said.

  “Us?”

  “None of us. Not me, not my brother Eli, none of the old club members,” he shrugged. “Guess he’s too proud.”

  “That must be hard,” I nodded.

  He shook his head. “I get it.”

  I nodded, noting the storm now brewing in that dark gaze. Long, black lashes attempted to hide the pain, but it was there, shining just under the surface.

  “Many times prisoners change their minds after a little while,” I offered.

  He nodded, and a slight smile tugged at the edges of his mouth.

  “We’ll see,” he said. “Eli and I haven’t given up hope yet.”

  “Don’t,” I urged. “He’ll need you eventually.”

  “Can’t imagine my old man needing anyone for anything,” he replied, his voice almost wistful. “Not really in his blood.”

  “Runs in the family?” I asked, a bit daringly, turning to peer into his eyes again. This time he let me.

  “So far, so good.”

  CHAPTER 13

  NATE

  Holy shit.

  Not only was she hot as fuck and staring me down like I was a fucking pork chop, but she was getting all soft and flirty with me. According to Grace, these people were basical
ly our enemies, and here she was barking up my tree and making me wonder what would happen if I led her into one of the bedrooms in the guest cabin, locked the door and showed her just what she was doing to me.

  As we walked side by side, her hand kept brushing against mine, her skin like velvet. Beads of sweat began popping up on my forehead, and the longer I spent in her company, the warmer I got.

  Each time she turned those doe-like eyes up at me, my cock twitched in my jeans and the urge to lick her plump little lips overwhelmed me.

  “There’s not much more to see,” I said, as I ended the tour with a quick look at Grace and Ryder’s cabin, which was tucked away from the others with a pretty little yard of it’s own.

  “Great,” she said, standing in front of Grace’s favorite pink rose bush. Her blonde hair was pulled tightly back away from her upturned face. Her eyes were light brown, the rich color of worn wood.

  “I should head back,” she said, not moving an inch.

  “If there’s anything I can do to help,” I said. “Please let me know.”

  She nodded, and smiled again, and I suppressed a groan as my cock throbbed hotly. The combination of her lush lips and the sparkle in her eye made her face light up each time she smiled.

  Gone was the serious FBI agent and I was pretty sure if she let her hair down and smiled at me at the same time, I’d fall to my knees in unbearable desire.

  I stood in stoic shock as she reached out and placed her hand on my bicep.

  “Thank you, Nate,” she said. “I’ll be in touch. And good luck with your father.”

  “Th-thank you,” I stammered, the heat of her hand slicing through my skin like a hot knife.

  The front door of the cabin burst open and Grace walked out, stopping in her tracks when she saw us. Donna’s hand was still on my arm, frozen in place, as we all looked at each other in shock.

  With lightening speed, Donna withdrew her hand and turned on her heel, walking away quickly, the absence of her hand on my skin sending a shockwave straight to my gut.

  CHAPTER 14

  THE FALLEN GOD

  They pulled out her foot first.

  At the sight of her bare toes, my cock hardened.

  I watched breathlessly, the other Gods gathered around as we stood back behind the yellow tape, watching them work. It seemed like forever before they started removing the body. They spent at least an hour taking pictures first. Measuring things. Looking for footprints or other evidence.

  By the time they were ready to pull out the body I’d so meticulously left there for them, it was late afternoon, and the sun was just starting to set in the distance, throwing soft pink light over the forest.

  It was a lovely sight, if I do say so myself.

  I made sure she was dead this time, of course.

  No more surprises.

  I left my signature, just like with the other two. I wanted to make sure nobody else took credit for my work.

  My old man would be so fuckin’ proud of me right now, I thought, as I inwardly smiled as they pulled out her other leg.

  I’d buried this one deeper than the others. Just to make sure, just in case some crazy back-from-the-dead shit happened. You never know.

  Let’s just say I was crossing all my t’s and dotting all my i’s.

  As they pulled the rest of her from the dirt, my heart raced as I saw my signature. Engraved on her right hip, just like the other two. Of course, nobody would ever guess what it was, what it meant — it was really rather arbitrary and random and the only meaning was personal.

  It just felt good to leave my mark, you know?

  This one fought a lot harder than the others. Maybe because I’d taken her while she was alone.

  But she was a hell of a lot more fun. Defiant and angry, her eyes shot daggers at me the whole time.

  Not a tear fell from her eyes.

  It was impressive, I gotta say. I’m not even sure I could withstand that much torture, but she took it like a fucking champ.

  “Good girl,” I’d whispered in her ear, right before I ended her pain.

  But oh, the look in her eyes then! When it was all over, when it was all gone, when she was gone? Her eyes turned empty and clean, as if I’d washed away every bad thing she’d ever seen.

  It was beautiful really.

  And the sight of her limp body after they put her on the stretcher was almost as beautiful. The other Gods murmured around me, but I didn’t hear a word they said.

  I was lost.

  Blissed out.

  Hard.

  Determined to keep going.

  The anticipation of hunting another one tonight left me almost giddy.

  My mind spun with possibility.

  “Whoever’s doing this shit is one sick fuck,” Slade said, shaking his head, his words breaking through my rapture.

  “Yeah,” I agreed, nodding enthusiastically. “Really fucking sick.”

  CHAPTER 15

  DONNA

  “What are we looking at?” I asked, as I walked up to Randolph after walking under the yellow tape.

  “Repeat of the other two,” he said. “Young woman, probably early twenties, fit, blonde, this one was naked. Looks like she fought hard, lots of defensive wounds, bruises.”

  “So, we’re definitely looking at the same guy?”

  He reached down and pulled up the plastic covering her body and pointed at her hip.

  “Same tattoo,” he said.

  “Another fucking infinity sign,” I said. “Think he’s trying to send us a message?”

  “Maybe,” he shrugged, replacing the plastic.

  “So, what’s the message?”

  “I’m forever an evil asshole?”

  “Yeah,” I murmured, raking my eyes over the scene. Nothing else was out of place. If the body hadn’t been there, it would have been like any other wooded spot in the massive Tillamook forest.

  “No evidence?”

  “Nothing. A partial footprint, maybe,” he said.

  “Who found the body?” I asked.

  “A passing motorist. Said he stepped off into the woods to urinate, saw the freshly disturbed dirt and called on a hunch. Highway patrolman dug down a little and found her.”

  “There could be more buried elsewhere, then,” I said.

  “This one is only a tenth of a mile from the others. How could we have missed this yesterday? We searched this area, didn’t we?”

  “It wasn’t here yesterday,” he insisted. “No way we missed that.”

  “So, he dumped it last night.”

  “Medical examiner said she’d only been dead a few hours.”

  I nodded, my head spinning.

  “We gotta find this guy before he kills someone else.”

  “It may already be too late for that,” Randolph said.

  “I hope not.”

  He looked over at the group of Gods hovering nearby.

  “What did you find at their compound?”

  “Nothing at all. Clean as a whistle. A few nice cabins, nothing out of the ordinary.”

  “You need to search a little deeper. Guys like that are always hiding something.”

  “I’m not going to tear their place apart, Randolph,” I said. Technically, Randolph was my superior. I preferred to think of us as partners, but truthfully, he had the power to veto any decision I made and it pissed me off to no end.

  “Yes, you are, Agent Parrotti. Unless you want me to report you?”

  “No,” I said, my lips pursed in annoyance.

  “Go back. Open drawers, look under beds, find the skeletons hiding in their closets.”

  “What if they don’t have any?”

  “Trust me, they have them. They always fucking have them.”

  “I don’t think they’re like other bikers, not like you think,” I said, my gaze lingering on Nate, who was standing and watching stoically as the medics loaded the body into the coroner’s van. I swallowed hard, his strong frame looming large, his handsome face lit up
by the pink light of the sunset.

  “What did I tell you, Parrotti? Don’t get soft.”

  “Fuck you,” I muttered under my breath, as I walked away. He heard me, but he let it slide. Randolph might outrank me, but he’d be way less successful without me, and he knows it. I let him pull the power rank on me now and then, and he ignores my occasional insults and bitching. It works most of the time.

  I ignored Nate’s stare as I walked quietly back to the cabins.

  CHAPTER 16

  GRACE

  By the time they were finished, they’d ransacked all the cabins and left every room in complete disarray.

  “Was this really necessary?” I asked, confronting Agent Parrotti.

  “Two dead bodies. You should know the answer to that question, Grace,” she replied, her voice laced with sarcasm.

  “I do,” I insisted. “And I don’t believe this search was truly warranted. You didn’t even find anything.”

  “The judge disagreed with you on the warrant, obviously,” she said, lifting a brow.

  I didn’t like her. She pissed me off. She was cocky and arrogant and was a bit of a know-it-all. Sure, she reminded me of myself a little, but I liked to think I was a lot more subtle and gentler than she was. She barreled in here like she owned the place, like the presence of two dead bodies gave her the right to do anything she pleased.

  I knew she was just following procedure, but that didn’t make her haughty attitude any easier to take.

  “I have some questions,” she said.

  Frankie and Cherry lingered nearby, their presence lending me silent support.

  “Sure,” I said. What was the point of fighting her? The more I cooperated, the faster she’d figure out we had nothing to do with all of this and the faster she’d be out of our space.

  “Do you know of anyone who would want to set you up for a murder?”

  “What? No, that’s absurd.”

  “Have any enemies?”

  “Well…” Of course we had enemies. People we’d put in jail. Family members of the people who’d perished during the course of our cases. “Perhaps, but I couldn’t name anyone outright.”

 

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