Maverick: A Dark MC Romance (A Dark & Dirty Sinners' MC Series Book 6)

by Serena Akeroyd

  “By the mid-eighties, they weren’t doing shit to fight corruption. They were at the top of the tree because they ran their own rings and did so in silence. No one knew about them, not until a couple of Italians realized what was happening. They did the dumb fuck thing and tried to take out who they thought was at the top of the group, because they believed this body of people was managed like theirs was—with leadership at the top. But that isn’t how the Sparrows work.

  “They’re nesters. They work together, they build and grow together, and keep each other’s asses safe from jail and from danger. It’s fascinating if you think about it. The only true communist body of power in the fucking world, one that’s ruled purely by knowledge and money.”

  “There has to be a leader,” Rex countered. “How the fuck does anyone make a decision to move on? Especially with their pasts—they came from positions of power. Some had to have higher ranks than others.”

  “They did and do, but to them, a judge is only as important as a prison officer for what they can do for the ‘nest.’ Look, it doesn’t have to make sense to us. It’s how they work it. Money is their commodity. If anything, that’s what influences opinion.

  “A bit like with the government, they petition for business deals and work as a cohesive unit toward that goal.”

  “I know it sounds insane, Rex, because when she told me about this shit, I thought she was nuts,” I remarked, “but I think she’s right. Coming off of what happened this past month, I know you might not put much faith in my cognitive abilities—”

  “Shut the hell up,” Rex grumbled. “Whether you’re stuck in the past or the present, either way, you’re smarter than most of the council put together. I trust you, Maverick. You know that.”

  Relief soared through me, because if he trusted me, then this would go a lot easier.

  “Carry on, Star.”

  With no sass this time, she started fiddling with the wheelchair’s armrest. “The Italians fucked up big time by targeting the leadership, and essentially the Don at that point, Benito Fieri’s father, Giovanni, had to come under their umbrella otherwise the Sparrows vowed to annihilate the Famiglia piece by piece—”

  “That’s impossible. No one could do that,” Rex countered.

  “Remember I told you it started in NYC? Well, by the mid-eighties, that was a thing of the past. They were everywhere. They’d infiltrated every level of government, every level of the justice department. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re in the fucking Pentagon or in the Oval Office. Their taint has spread, and their power knows no bounds. Back then, they could remove the Famiglia without even breaking out into a sweat. Now? They could decimate half of Europe if they wanted.”

  Rex released a sharp breath. “You can’t be serious?”

  “I am. Deadly,” she muttered grimly, for the first time looking him straight in the eye. “I wish I wasn’t, but it’s true. Somehow, for some fucking reason, you’ve caught their eye, and that’s who was behind the attack on the compound.”

  “The Sparrows?” he repeated. “What kind of fucking name is that?”

  She shrugged. “Their full name is the New World Sparrows. It’s a play on words. Back in the days of the Illuminati, members were called the ‘passers’…from the word passeridae, which is the genus for the Old World Sparrows…”

  “Everyone’s a fucking genius,” I sniped, rolling my eyes. “What do they think they’re on? An episode of Jeopardy?”

  “If they weren’t as dangerous as they are, then sure, maybe Alex Trebek would have been able to solve the world’s woes right now, but as it stands, real life bites.” She shrugged. “I mean, that’s what they say. Maybe they just worship at Aphrodite’s feet.”

  Rex shot her a blank look, so I explained, “Sparrows represented Aphrodite in classical lore.”

  The Prez shook his head. “Where do you two come up with this shit?”

  Lodestar muttered impatiently, “The fucking past? It’s called history, Rex.”

  “I’m not a walking fucking Google.”

  Reaching up to rub the bridge of my nose, I muttered, “If they’re as massive as you say, then how the hell can we stop them?”

  She shrugged. “You can’t. But you can tear them down brick by brick. Why do you think I’ve been trying to destroy the Famiglia? They’re a major part of the game. They’re the Sparrows’ front. By taking them down, you’re going a long way to solving things.”

  Rex raised a hand, and she stunned the hell out of me by actually refraining from speaking, as he questioned, “How did you get tangled up in their web?”

  “It was by accident. I was supposed to be helping guard a museum in Iraq. It was going to be ransacked, so we were deployed there to protect the antiquities. I came across something I shouldn’t have. They caught me—”

  “Cut the BS, Lodestar,” I retorted. “Tell him the truth.”

  Her mouth tightened, and she turned her face away from me. “That is the truth.”

  “You and I both know you were working for Langley.”

  “You were in the CIA?” Rex rasped, his surprise clear.

  “For a few years.”

  “Long enough to piss off some powerful people,” I remarked. “Enough to get your ass sold into the white slavers market.”

  She hissed at me, “Shut the fuck up, Maverick.”

  I just hitched a shoulder. “I told you already, no more lies. No more crap. We need to be on the same page. It was different before. I just thought you were fucking nuts, and I was okay with that because I was okay with being a ghost, until our house was blown up, until people were hurt and we lost loved ones. Things have changed. We need to change with them too.”

  Because I knew that appealing to her sense of decency wouldn’t work, instead, I appealed to her need to belong. She’d always had that issue.

  If I was a shrink, I’d have said it was because her father had died when she was young, but who the hell knew why the brain worked the way it did?

  Glumly, she muttered, “The premise of the story wasn’t bullshit. I was assigned to a museum, but it stopped showing antiquities a long time ago. It became a kind of unofficial traders market for information.

  “I went there, trying to find a name for an agent who we believed was selling out his people, but when I got there…” She shrugged. “It ended up with me being sold as a fucking slave.”

  “And what? You believe these Sparrows are the ones who sold you?”

  “I’m pretty sure they were running the traders market, Rex. More than that, I’m sure the fucker who I was looking for was a Sparrow too.” She pulled a face. “I’ve spent every moment since I killed my fucking owner trying to figure out ways to destabilize their operations. Targeting the human trafficking side of things was, as I’m sure you can understand after yesterday, a way of fulfilling a personal grudge.”

  Rex pursed his lips, but his fingers started to tap the armrest in a rhythmic manner that told me he was processing what he’d learned. “How do you know yesterday was about a personal grudge?”

  She snorted. “Because I’m not an idiot.”

  “You been keeping her in the loop with our secrets, Mav?” Rex queried, his tone still as soft as silk.

  “Haven’t you figured it out yet? You don’t have to tell Lodestar anything. She has ways and means of finding shit out.”

  “Yeah, I heard about my cloned phone.”

  Lodestar muttered, “Fucking Old Ladies. Treacherous bitches.”

  “You said it, they’re Old Ladies,” Rex retorted. “To Sinners. Their loyalty belongs to me. I needed to know, and I’ll need you to un-clone my phone, even if it’s for my safety.”

  She sniffed. “Having all the facts, getting them by any means necessary is why I’m so good at what I do. You’ll be handicapping me—”

  “If you were so good before, then how did you get caught?” he countered, changing the subject.

  Her smile was tight. “Because I was sold out by someone above me.
Someone who knew my reason for being in Hillah and wanted to stop me before I discovered the truth.”

  Wanting to bring things around again, I cleared my throat and asked, “Rex? You want to share exactly what the fuck made you go to the warehouse?”

  “Revenge,” he said easily. “Pure and simple.”

  He explained about the folder that had been dropped off at the compound, explained about the conversation he’d had with Declan O’Donnelly and with Finn O’Grady too. It all led to him admitting, “I was dumb doing what I did. But I don’t regret it. Mom might not be the woman the Italians killed but they took away someone who mattered to us.”

  He pulled something out of his cut. The piece of paper in his hands looked to be the thick kind—not notepad paper but the stuff used for drawing pads.

  Reaching for it when he passed it over to me, I opened the folds to reveal a face I hadn’t seen in too fucking long.

  “She’s dead?” Pain floored me as the recognition of who was dead was instantaneous. “Where’s her body?”

  His jaw turned to stone. “I don’t know. We might never find out.”

  “Fuck!” I rasped, grief for her loss choking me.

  “Who is it?” Lodestar asked, sitting up straighter like that would help her see the drawing on the paper.

  My voice was hoarse as I muttered, “It’s a woman who was raised with us—Storm’s sister, Scarlet.”

  She narrowed her eyes at that. “I wonder why they had to kill her. What is it about the Sinners that has them coming back for more?”

  “It’s funny you should say that,” I rasped uneasily. “Although I don’t know if funny is the right word.” Gritting my teeth, I explained, “Lodestar, I got the DNA results from the sniper’s nest in the field.”

  “What sniper’s nest?” Rex demanded, his anger beginning to throb once he realized what I’d been holding out on him.

  “Lodestar heard chatter there was going to be some kind of attack on the compound. She set herself up on the roof, and when she was there, she saw the laser light of a sniper.”

  I let Lodestar explain about the camera footage, and when she trailed off, I muttered, “I heard back from my buddy about the sniper, Rex. The same person who took the shot from that nest was the same fucker who was involved in a hit and run eight years ago.”

  Rex’s jaw turned white, and he lowered his head, his gaze drifting off mine. “Don’t do this to me, Maverick. Please, man. I already thought I was gonna die yesterday, and it was worth it because I thought I was fighting for Mom, but… fuck.”

  “I’m sorry, Rex. I’m so goddamn sorry, but it was Rene. The same guy who detonated the bomb at the clubhouse and almost killed Bear was the guy who killed your mother.”

  Silence fell at my declaration, but it was broken a few moments later by Lodestar, who repeated in a whisper, “What the fuck did the Sinners do to get onto their radar?”

  “I have no idea,” I rasped, and though I shot Rex a look, mostly I could see he was shell-shocked. So totally fucking out of it that I didn’t think he’d be much use.

  Of course, this was my Prez I was talking about, so underestimating him was dumb of me. “It has to be something to do with Banks. With my uncle. There’s a reason I got that package… and how I got it was shady as fuck. A truck dropped it off then hightailed it outta there. Maybe you can find out how?”

  “Of course,” I told him. “What day did you get the package? What time was it dropped off? Roughly?”

  He gave me the info I needed as he clambered to his feet. “There’s a reason all this went down—we just have to figure out what that is. Lodestar, I’m going to take you home now. Maverick, I’ll talk with you and the council tomorrow. I expect you at Rachel’s place, do you hear me?”

  “I hear you, brother.”

  He grunted, and as he rounded the bed, Lodestar and I shot each other troubled glances.

  We were all on the same page now, all aware of what we were up against, but that didn’t mean we were any safer. Which made me feel worse when I thought about how I’d let Alessa leave the fucking hospital without me, just so I could have that conversation with Ken, and ultimately, this discussion with Star and Rex.

  A few hours later, when Alessa sneaked into my room, I had to smile, because the relief I experienced was acute. I’d had text messages from the prospect who was protecting her that she was on her way, but I only felt better once I set my eyes on her.

  And what a fucking sight she was.

  “Couldn’t stay away, huh?”

  She giggled. “No need to be so cocky.”

  My brows rose at the giggle, because she wasn’t exactly a giggler by nature.

  “From where I’m sitting, darlin’, I’m no oil painting, and neither am I much of a prize. Must have got you hooked on something else. Let me guess, it’s my fingers. Can’t be my brain considering that ain’t worth all that much now,” I said dryly, watching through the lights from the hall and from the window as she slipped out of her shoes, then tiptoed over to the bed where she joined me.

  The sweet scent of wine hit my nostrils, and my lips twitched as I reflected on how drunk she was and whether it was bad form if I kissed her now.

  The way she curved into me reminded me of one of my mother’s cats—it was like they were boneless. Damn, it felt good though.

  After the last couple of days, just for her to be here with me, to lay at my side, to know that she wanted me as much as I wanted her even though I wasn’t exactly a prize was a revelation.

  “What you mean you’re not worth much now?” she mumbled, fumbling with some words, losing others, and dropping a hiccup in between a few. She patted my chest on a sigh. “You’re worth a lot to me.”

  I smiled into her hair as I turned my face to give her a kiss on the brow. “How much?”

  “More than Canada.”

  “How much is Canada worth?”

  “I don’t know, but Giulia showed me some memes of Justin Trudeau today. It makes Canada worth more.”

  “Him alone, huh?” I had to laugh because I’d never heard her talk like this before.

  “Uhhhhuh. Then there all are those players.”

  “Players?”

  She hummed. “The ones with the sticks. The ice sticks?”

  My brow furrowed. “Ice hockey players?”

  “Those are the ones.” She snapped her fingers. “You’re hotter than all of them. Even Trudeau.”

  “Christ. I really am prime real estate then, huh?”

  “Nope. You’re my prime real estate.” She paused. “What’s prime real estate?”

  “Never mind.”

  She clucked her tongue. “Everyone speaks in riddles sometimes. How can a room be a salon and also somewhere to get your hair fixed? And what does maverick even mean?”

  Hiding my smile again, I murmured, “English makes no sense.”

  “You’re right. It doesn’t.” She muttered something in Ukrainian. “What is a maverick?”

  “Me. Prime real estate, remember?”

  “Nope. That’s no answer. Why are you called it?”

  I grunted. “For two reasons.”

  “Tell me.”

  Sighing, I rested my hand on her bicep, loving it when she took the gesture to mean she wasn’t close enough to me. She went from lying on her side to raising one leg and cocking it over my lap, her hand slipping over my waist to cling to me, and her head settling in the nook where my arm met my chest.

  I’d have worried about needing a shower, but I figured she was too far gone to care, and if she did, she’d just move.

  “When we were kids, pre road names, I used to get into a lot of shit, trying things out I shouldn’t have. Doing stuff that was bad.”

  “Like what?”

  Wincing at the memories, I muttered, “Stupid things really, but it used to get me into trouble.”

  “You’re talking but not speaking. Why is that?”

  “Stop being philosophical.”

  “I�
��m Plato.”

  “You’re too cute to be a dead Greek.”

  “I shall take that as a compliment.”

  “It was meant to be one.”

  “I’m glad you think I’m prettier than an ancient skeleton.”

  Snickering, I murmured, “It’s my charm that had you flocking to me, isn’t it?”

  “Yep, and your eyes.” A sleepy sigh escaped her. “They’re sooooo beautiful. Like coins. They gleam as if they’re treasure. I look into them and…” She paused. “Did you have that cereal with treats in the bags?”

  “Before they started to worry kids would choke on the toys, yeah.”

  “We had them. That’s what your eyes remind me of.”

  “Plastic toys in bags of cereal?” I queried wryly, laughing when she hummed her agreement.

  “Yes. Well, how I felt when I found one.” Her lips drifted over my chest—I’d tugged off the hospital gown earlier on and had been lying in a pair of boxer briefs ever since. I was damn glad for it now. Especially when her hand rested on my stomach and she started to make circles against my skin. “We didn’t have much, and that kind of cereal was expensive, so I didn’t have it often. Those were treats I looked forward to.”

  My brow puckered as I reached for her hand to still it. “I’ll give you the world, Alessa, if you’ll let me.”

  She laughed. “You don’t have to anymore. Lily gave me ten million worlds. I’d like to spend them with you on things that matter. But I’d also like to buy a house. A little house of our own, where I can never be made to leave it. Where I can live until we’re old and gray, and we can see our babies grow up and they can bring their families there for the holidays and…” She sighed. “Yes. A house.”

  She didn’t just mean a house though. She meant a future.

  I swallowed, because as much as I wanted everything she’d said, how could I give that to her? Tomorrow wasn’t promised to me. Not when tomorrow could shove me back to yesterday. And not just yesterday either. But ancient history.

  On top of that, the statistics weren’t pretty.

  What if I hurt her?

  What if this injury I had, this fucking CTE, made me—