Tainted Desire

by Brook Wilder

  “I have to go after Polanco,” I forced out, not wanting to split up but seeing no other choice.

  “I know,” she said tightly, her eyes wide. “Go, before you lose him.”

  “I know about the tracker on my bike,” I said quickly, holstering my gun. “Take the girl to the police and then find me, all right?”

  “I will,” she said before she pulled me close, pressing her lips to mine. I barely had time to react before she was pulling away, the warmth of her kiss barely registering on my own lips. “For luck.”

  I growled, only because I wanted so much more, but Eileen was already walking to her bike, hurrying the girl along as she did so.

  Damn that woman.

  I waited until they were safely heading down the road before I climbed on my own bike, turning it toward the direction that Polanco had escaped. I would find him, kill him, and then settle this thing with Eileen.

  There was no way I was going to die now that she had kissed me.

  At least not by her hand.

  But as I flew down the road after Polanco, I thought about dying another way. If I caught up to the bastard, I would kill him or die trying. At least we had rescued the girl. That part was over and done with. Eileen could have retribution for her sister and that girl would go back to her loving family and hopefully start to heal from her ordeal.

  It wasn’t over for us yet though, not with Polanco still alive. He would just pick another girl and another family would be devastated.

  No, there was only one way to end this all and I intended on doing so.

  Chapter 12

  Siren

  I flew back to San Antonio, feeling the little girl’s arms wrapped around my waist tightly as I did so. We had found her. We had rescued her from the cartel and as soon as I turned her over, they would reunite her with her family.

  It was a good feeling, a good ending to a sudden beginning.

  But now I had another worry. Daniel was out there by himself, chasing down Polanco without any backup. If it hadn’t been for the girl, I would have helped him, but she was our main priority now.

  I could only hope for his safety, that his training would see him through.

  Why had I kissed him? The question stayed in my mind as I entered San Antonio, the mere brush of his lips against mine still fresh in my mind. I didn’t know why, but he was being so brave, and I didn’t want him to feel like he was by himself any longer.

  Which meant I couldn’t kill him. Despite my earlier observations, I doubted I could have ever killed him, to be honest. Somewhere along the lines of me watching him for two months I had started to care for him as a person, watching his daily routine and wondering more about him.

  And this time with him hadn’t made it any easier. Though I hadn’t told him, last night I’d had the worst dreams about him and me, one so frightening that I had woken from my sleep in a cold sweat.

  While some of the details were fuzzy in the morning light, I could still remember him hovering over me, his naked body pressed against mine as we moved together in the moonlight, him filling me to the core. I had gasped as the pressure started to build, but then suddenly there was a gun pressed against my forehead and Daniel had been the one holding the gun.

  I had jerked awake then, my racing heart feeling as if it had just run a marathon. Daniel had been standing at the window, his outline traced by the light of the moon, and I had watched him for a few minutes, willing myself to calm down. He wouldn’t hurt me.

  Or at least I didn’t think so.

  Now, though, I was certain that there was something between us, something far more important than the club or his position at the CIA. I just wasn’t so sure what I was going to do about it.

  Finally, the police station came into view and I skidded the bike to a stop in front of the building, killing the engine. After prying the girl’s arms from around my waist, I helped her off the bike. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”

  “How did you know I would be there?” she asked, her voice shaking.

  “We didn’t,” I answered truthfully, wrapping my arm around her. “Your parents have been looking for you. They will be glad to see you.”

  “They didn’t do anything,” she said, lifting her chin. “I fought them, and they left me alone.”

  That was good news. “Good. Try to remember everything about what you saw or what you heard. The police will use that to make sure that this doesn’t happen to anyone ever again.”

  “Are you going to leave me here?” she asked as we walked up the steps.

  I stopped, feeling the tug on my soul as I stared into her frightened eyes. “What if I give you my cell-phone number? That way you can call me anytime.”

  “I would like that,” she whispered. My heart broke then, remembering my own sister. If someone had come after her like I had this girl, she might still be alive to this day.

  Once inside the police department, I explained to the front desk who I had, sending the woman racing to find the chief of police. I grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil in her absence, scribbling down my name and phone number. “Here,” I said, handing it to her. “If you need anything or just need to talk, call me.”

  “Thank you,” she answered as the chief came through the doors, his face red with exertion. I explained to him what had happened, leaving out some key things like that we had been there to exchange illegal weapons, and turned the girl over. “What’s your name?” he asked as I started to walk toward the door.

  I turned back. “You can contact the CIA and tell them that it was Voodoo’s partner.” Let them try to figure that one out.

  He sputtered at the CIA reference, but I kept walking, ignoring his questions and wasting no time getting outside and on my bike again. He would likely run the plates, which weren’t mine, but I didn’t care. I had rescued another girl, gotten her back to her parents so she would live a full life.

  She was going to be just fine.

  I pulled out of the parking lot, heading back out of San Antonio. I could still remember the day my sister disappeared and how we prayed to get the news that never came.

  ***

  I watched as my mom paced the living room floor, clutching the tissue in her hand in case the tears started to flow again. Me, I was out of tears, feeling exhausted, my eyes gritty from all the crying I had done in the last twenty-four hours. My sister, Jessica, was missing. It was unfathomable that we had become one of those families that you saw on TV, begging for their loved one to be returned. Hundreds of people had come by the house, offering their assistance and any comfort that they could give. We had enough food to feed us for years, but no one had touched it. The answering machine was full of messages, the volunteers busy with printing flyers from the local library, but all we could do was sit and wait for word.

  Even earlier, when my mom and dad had given a statement to the TV crews that were camped on our front lawn, I had sat on the couch, unable to move. It was all my fault. If I hadn’t needed to go to practice that day, I would have driven Jessica home myself.

  But the coach had called the practice and Jessica had said it wasn’t far to walk, that she would be fine.

  Who could have realized that she would be taken? She was sixteen, not some little girl that they preferred. She would have fought them and given the fact they had found her backpack items scattered on the road; she had fought the best she could.

  It hadn’t been enough.

  The doorbell suddenly rang, and my father was the first one out of the chair, my mom following close behind him. When he wrenched it open, I knew. It was the look on the officers’ faces that told me that Jessica, my baby sister, was dead.

  A sound escaped my mom and I knew she knew it too, that Jessica would never come back home, back to her room on the second floor. She would never drive a car, attend prom, graduate high school. She wouldn’t become an aunt to my future kids or have kids herself.

  Jessica was gone.

  ***

  I shook out of
the memory, surprised by the wetness on my cheeks. That had been the second worst day of my life, the first being when we had first found out that she had been kidnapped. But today, I had gained some retribution by returning the girl to her parents. They would never feel the crushing pain in their chest at the permanent loss or walk by their daughter’s room and break down in tears. Only recently had my mom finally packed up the room and closed the door forever.

  Now, though, I had to find Daniel. He was my responsibility, the man I was supposed to kill in a matter of hours. I no longer wanted to do that, but I did want to find him, to ensure that he was all right and see if he had ended this nightmare once and for all.

  Pulling the bike over, I pulled out my cell phone and initiated the app that would track his bike by the tracker under his seat. I wasn’t surprised that he knew about it, given what he did for a living, but now I was glad that he hadn’t gotten rid of it.

  Finally, after several agonizing minutes, the green flashing dot showed up and I breathed a sigh of relief. He was still on the move, just outside of San Antonio. That meant he hadn’t caught up with Polanco yet, but he hadn’t lost him either.

  There was still hope to end this chapter. The only problem was, how was I going to explain the need not to kill Daniel to my president? She had given me a directive, one that had been clear, yet I couldn’t follow through.

  And the moment I told her, she would send someone else to do it for me.

  I couldn’t stomach the thought.

  Tucking the cell back into my pocket, I pointed the bike in the direction that would take me to Daniel. One step at a time was what I needed to concentrate on. First Polanco, and then we would figure out how to get him out of this death contract with the clubs. I understood the need for revenge, but this wasn’t how the revenge needed to happen. It wasn’t going to solve anything or turn back the hands of time. Machine Gun still had his injury. There were still the feelings of betrayal amongst the club, especially those that had allowed Daniel in to begin with.

  Killing him wasn’t going to take away any of that.

  Now I had to prove that fact to everyone I cared about, my family even. I would be putting my allegiance on the line to keep a man I barely knew alive.

  What the hell was I doing? Was I really going to do this?

  But as I raced toward Daniel, I knew I had to. I wasn’t the person that Widow Maker thought I was. I didn’t want to kill him, not on these terms.

  I didn’t want to hold onto the hate that had been breeding since we had gotten tangled up with the cartel. I wanted us to return to the club we used to be, before our allegiance with the Jesters. Something had changed since that turn and it wasn’t the family I remembered it being.

  Something was dragging us into a place that I was afraid we wouldn’t be able to find our way out of.

  Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to think of the present right now.

  I had to help Daniel.

  Chapter 13

  Voodoo

  I was damn frustrated.

  I slowed the bike as I crested the hill, pissed off that I had lost sight of the van once more. After an hour of trying to catch up to the van, I had kept a good distance between us due to the other cars on the road. I couldn’t go and start shooting without the possibility of hitting an innocent bystander.

  Yeah, sounded cliché considering my previous work, but I was a different person now.

  So, I tailed Polanco, waiting for my chance to take him off the road and end this shit once and for all. During the tail, my mind constantly went back to Eileen and the girl, hoping that they had made it to the police station okay.

  For a man who had lived most of his life only worrying about his own shit, I sure was all up in Eileen’s lately. Something had shifted between us, something that I wasn’t so sure I knew what it was about or what it was going to bring.

  And she had kissed me of her own volition. It wasn’t out of fear or anxiety.

  It was because she damn well wanted to, and I wanted to return that favor.

  Oh, I wanted to return that favor badly.

  Our story wasn’t going to end today.

  Finally, I spied the van in a copse of trees, but too late to slow down and far too late to pull out my gun as I saw the glint of the barrel pointed in my direction. The shot rang out and I felt the bike give away, sending me careening at a high rate of speed toward a section of fencing. I tried to block my face as the front of the bike crashed into the wood and down an embankment. I felt my body being jolted sideways as the bike laid down, the pain lancing through my back and legs as I collided with the hard ground.

  For a minute, I sat there, my back against the embankment, my breaths coming in short gasps. The world lurched sideways for a second and I shook my head, attempting to keep myself awake. Gingerly I checked my body, finding that my right leg was gashed open at the thigh, blood spilling out onto the dirt.

  Shit. I wasn’t about to bleed to death here. Grabbing my belt, I quickly removed it and tied it around my leg, grimacing in pain as I cinched it tightly to stop the flow of blood. It seemed to be the worst of my injuries, though I was sure that if I didn’t get myself killed now, I would feel every bruise and bump in the morning.

  “Well, well, well. The great Voodoo, down on his luck.”

  I looked up, my vision clearing. “Polanco, fancy meeting you here.”

  Polanco chuckled, tapping the gun at his thigh. “I see you haven’t lost your sense of humor, Voodoo, though I hear you’ve gained a few enemies recently.”

  “Have to keep up appearances,” I said, not bothering to reach for my gun. I would be dead before I could get my hands on the butt. “Though I think you have grown uglier, if that is possible.”

  Polanco squatted next to me, a grin on his face. “You know, that’s what I like about you, Voodoo. You just don’t give a shit, do you?”

  I kept my eyes trained on him, knowing that this was probably going to be the end of my life. I wouldn’t ever get the chance to kiss Eileen properly, or tell her that she was the only damn person I cared about in this shithole.

  I would never be able to prove myself to the clubs, to show them that I was sorry for what I had attempted to do to.

  And my family. They would likely never know what really happened. The government would cover it up, make some mockery of how I died so that they could continue to their liking.

  I wasn’t ready to go. “See,” I said, using my arms to sit up straighter despite the all-consuming pain in my leg. “That’s the difference between you and me, Polanco. I do give a shit.”

  He laughed, shaking his head as he stood and I waited to feel the ripping of the bullet through my body, my last dying thought wanting to be on the things that would never transpire between Eileen and me.

  But the gun never fired. “You know what,” Polanco said, holstering his gun. “I’m feeling generous today. I like you, Voodoo, and if you weren’t a shit CIA agent, I would think about bringing you into the fold.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said, giving him a grin.

  “It is, I swear to you,” he answered, his hand over his heart. “But I don’t think I am your worst enemy now and I feel this might be the last time I see you, my friend.”

  I knew he was talking about the clubs and he wasn’t far off. Eileen wasn’t going to be able to protect me, that is, if she wanted to. While I knew she wouldn’t shoot me, I wasn’t so sure if she would keep others from doing so. Her loyalty lay with the club and I couldn’t blame her for that.

  I just wished the end had been different.

  To my surprise, Polanco gave me a salute and walked off, the van peeling out onto the highway seconds later. He hadn’t killed me.

  He was baiting me.

  I let out a laugh, leaning my head back on the wood as relief flowed through me. My story wasn’t done yet. As long as I didn’t bleed out, I would live another day.

  I didn’t know who was looking out for me, but someone w
as.

  I also knew that Eileen was on her way. I was her mark and there was no way she was going to let me out of her sight.

  And that would save my damn life.

  Sure enough, after what felt like hours had passed, I heard the approaching motorcycle. I had been weaving in and out of consciousness, surprised that no other car had seen the hole in the fence and come to investigate.

  I guess that just showed that no one truly paid attention to their surroundings.

  “Daniel! Oh God, Daniel. Are you okay?”