Sabotage: A Vigilante Justice Novel

by Kristin Harte

  “Seriously,” she said as I dropped all of my weight onto her, needing a moment to catch my breath. “We need an all-night convenience store in Justice.”

  I laughed, licking up her neck to get a taste of her. “I’d say the hardware store could fill that purpose, but then we’d have to staff it.”

  “I have no interest in staying up all night,” she said, reaching for a tissue from the stand next to the bed to clean up the mess between us. Grabbing another and handing it to me with shaky fingers and a shy sort of smile. My beauty.

  Unable to resist those lips, I gave her a slow, deep kiss, rubbing the tissue over her stomach and mine. Taking care of my girl before pulling back enough to whisper, “I’ll stay up all night if it means being inside you.”

  “You have a one-track mind,” she said, giggling softly.

  “I’m in a bed alone with you, and we’re both naked. Yes, my mind is stuck in one gear right now.” I tossed the tissue to the floor, grabbed her around the waist, and rolled with her so she could lie across my chest. Wanting this feeling of contentment to last me forever. Every day. Every second. This was motherfucking blissful, and I’d never get enough of it.

  But my girl needed her rest. So I ran my hands up her naked back, massaging her as I whispered, “Get some sleep, beauty.”

  She sighed, scratching her fingers along my chest. “I would, but someone keeps waking me up.”

  “You complaining?”

  “Not really, but I have a feeling I’m going to put my coffeepot through a workout in the morning.” She yawned, snuggling closer as I kissed the top of her head and held her a little tighter.

  “Worth it,” I whispered, knowing she’d agree.

  Mercy wasn’t any sort of insomniac. She fell asleep within minutes, her breath evening out and the thump of her heart slowing. Me? I stayed awake, all the promises and opportunities of being with a woman like my beauty slamming into me and making my brain refuse to quiet.

  I wasn’t good enough for her.

  But I could be.

  I’d been a fucked-up man for a long time, working undercover for the Black Angels, spying on the men I was supposed to see as my brothers, sabotaging their missions when necessary so they didn’t upset the balance the national president demanded. Doing Cartel’s dirty work for him. All so I could keep searching for Wolf, the man who’d murdered my sister. All because of some fucked-up revenge fantasy. I needed to end that shit. I’d been sliding downhill since I’d earned my nomad patch. When I’d come for one of the guys who had killed my sister, the one who had also been trying to take out the big prez so his crew could gain power over the Black Angels. Cartel may have been running my show, but the president owed me big-time. That debt was about to come due. It was time to return to my nomad status for good.

  Nomads were bound by no house, no crew. I’d let Cartel stick me in Vegas for far too long, let him tell me what to do like I was some sort of prospect. It was time to take back what I’d earned. My freedom.

  I’d given of myself for too long—it was time to start taking what I needed. And what I needed was the little woman sleeping soundly on my chest to be mine and the boy in the other room, too. I needed them to be safe and cared for, and I needed to be the man doing that job. I needed it like I needed air.

  Closing myself off from my past and starting new couldn’t come soon enough, but there were things that needed to be handled. People who needed to be cut out of my life. Assignments that needed to be finished. The only way to do that was to go in full force. Twenty-four seven. No stopping, no time off, straight mission.

  Which meant I needed to leave Justice for a few days.

  I crawled out from under Mercy, tugging on my jeans in case Beckett woke up, and grabbing my phone before heading out into the living room. The thoughts of how I could accomplish my extraction from club life rolled through my head, not allowing me to think of anything else. I paced the small living room, typing notes into my phone. Working out a plan that could end with my escape or me dead in the ground. Either way, I wasn’t riding with that Vegas crew again.

  I figured there were five things that had to happen before I could close the current chapter in my life and come back to my little family. A task list.

  Tell the national prez all about Edge and Ravel, and how they were about to blow the club apart with Cartel’s approval.

  Take out Edge and Ravel so that explosion wouldn’t happen.

  Tell Jinx what really happened to her mom.

  Tell Cartel I was out of the spy game for good and was reclaiming my nomad status.

  And when all that was done, there was only one more thing I’d need to accomplish.

  Convince Mercy and Beckett to forgive me for walking away in the first place.

  Chapter Thirteen

  MERCY

  THE MORNING SUN brought a glow to the room that matched the one in my chest. A night with Parris in bed, even without actual sex, had been just as wonderful as I’d dreamed. More so. The sweetness of his hands on me, the roughness of his voice in my ear. The body-blistering heat between us. Nothing had ever felt so good. My entire body buzzed with the strain of muscles that hadn’t been used in far too long.

  Smiling, already calculating when I could slip away from Beckett to buy condoms so Parris and I could move from almost sex to real sex, I rolled over. I reached for the burly biker who’d slipped so easily into my life. And I found an empty bed. Empty and cold.

  Even as I jumped to a sitting position—as I tried to calm my heart—my stomach dropped. Maybe he’s in the bathroom. The thought didn’t make me feel better, though. Mostly because the apartment sat far too quiet and still, too much like it usually did on a Sunday morning before Beckett awoke. I knew Parris wasn’t there—just knew it. Still, I crawled out of bed and pulled on my robe, hoping against hope that I was wrong. That Parris was awake and sitting in another room silently for some reason. Maybe he couldn’t sleep with another person beside him. Maybe I snored.

  I had better not be a snorer.

  Padding through the apartment, the fear that Parris had left only grew. Every room sat empty; every seat unoccupied. Gone. Just as I’d feared.

  It was when I made it to the kitchen that I found the note, and the tears began to form. A simple white slip of paper next to the coffeepot was the scariest thing I could have seen. I knew what it was—a Dear John letter. Or Dear Mercy letter. Dear beauty, maybe. The name didn’t matter—it was a kiss-off. I didn’t want to read Parris’ words, didn’t even want to look at whatever he’d left behind, but I couldn’t ignore it. So I crept to the counter, and I picked up the stiff paper with a hesitant hand, and in my head, I cursed the man under my breath. Leaving a note and slipping out in the middle of the night was child’s play—cowardice—something I hadn’t expected from a grown man. Something I hadn’t been ready for. My fault, that one. I should have known Parris wasn’t exactly the forever type. Not that I was already thinking of forever. A morning after wasn’t too much to ask for, though. Was it?

  The guy was such an asshole for doing this to me.

  I unfolded the paper with shaking hands, needing to take a deep breath before I could really focus on the harsh lines of his writing. Before I could read the words he’d left behind.

  Beauty -

  * * *

  I need to end a few things in my life before I can take a place in yours. You’re still mine—I’ll be back for you.

  * * *

  Parris

  * * *

  PS: I’m yours as well

  * * *

  PPS: Tell Beckett I’m sorry—we’ll deal with that bike as soon as I get back.

  All the hurt inside of me, the ache of loss and the pain of such a swift departure, turned to white-hot anger at the line about Beckett. Parris had promised my son something, and he wasn’t even going to follow through on that. Couldn’t even spend a couple of hours to give my son the experience he’d been so excited about. What sort of person let down a child tha
t way? Walk away from me, fine. But don’t make the leaving harder on me by screwing over my kid. That was just…being an asshole.

  The petty side of me also couldn’t help but notice he’d left the note right next to my coffeepot. One of my favorite parts of the day was drinking that first cup of coffee in the quiet before Beckett woke up. What sort of man ruined my first cup of coffee by leaving an It’s not you, it’s me brush-off note by the coffeepot? What sort of man not only abandoned you and your son with only a few bullshit words and also took away the joy of coffee?

  “An asshole.”

  “Who’s an asshole?”

  I jumped and spun, my heart doing the same inside my chest as Parris came walking through the door with a bag from The Baker’s Cottage in his hand. I had to stop for a second, to center myself on the note still in my hand as I stared at the man who’d written it. Who was not supposed to be here anymore.

  If my heart pounded any harder, he’d hear it from across the room. “I thought you left.”

  “I did, and I am, but I’m nothing if not a man of my word. That means there are a couple of things that needed doing before I go.” He grabbed me with desperate hands, yanking me close with a hunger I felt down to my toes. Kissing me without reserve, with passion and need and desire as he cupped my ass and held on. As I looped my arms around his neck and hugged him closer yet. This was so perfect and yet utterly wrong. Soothing and yet painful at the same moment. I couldn’t resist him, though. Not for a single moment. I wanted him so badly, was so happy to see him, that I was willing to take whatever I could get from him. The hurt, though…it burned. And it was only going to get worse.

  I finally had to break the kiss and place my forehead against his chest, still clinging to him. Still wishing he would change his mind. Still hurting so much because of that stupid slip of paper.

  “You’re leaving.”

  He tightened his hold on me and kissed the top of my head, squeezing me in his thick arms as if trying to deny my words. “I know you’re going to be pissed as fuck about this, but I have to go. I need to settle a few things before I can be here a hundred percent.”

  That didn’t ease any of the worries inside my head. In fact, it gave me more. “Are you married?”

  He stepped back, looking me square in the eyes. “No.”

  “Have a girlfriend?”

  “Yeah… She’s right here.”

  “I’m not your girlfriend.”

  “You are, you just don’t know it yet.” His lips kicked up into that sexy smile I liked so much. “You’re going to fall in love with me.”

  I was already halfway there, but he was leaving. That fact changed everything inside my head even though my heart needed a few hours to catch up. “Not happening,”

  He hummed, leaning closer so he could murmur against my lips. “You’re mine, beauty. That’s a done deal.”

  Pretty words could never replace hurt. “Yet you’re leaving.”

  “I am, and I might not be back for a few days.”

  “Parris—”

  “The guys from the bike store in Crystal Falls are going to be here at three.”

  That redirected my thoughts for sure. “Wait…here?”

  “Yeah. They’re loading up the bikes that should work for Beckett’s size and coming here.”

  “You said—”

  “I know what I said, but last night changes things. You giving me a shot changes things.” He tucked my hair behind my ear—a habit for him, it seemed—before cupping my face as if I were something precious and dropping down to look me in the eye. “I know this doesn’t make sense, and I wish I could tell you everything, but that would put you and Beckett in danger. I won’t do that—I refuse to do that. I know I need to be a better man for the two of you, which means shutting a few doors in my life. That takes time. The quick way is to get out of town, deal with my shit twenty-four seven, so I can lock those doors up tight to keep all that stuff away from you two.” He ran a thumb over my cheek, sighing. Looking so intense and serious. “I won’t disappoint the little man, though. He wanted a bike today, and I promised to get him one. A real man comes through and stands by his word—the bike store will be here.”

  Oh, my heart. My poor, weak heart would never stop wanting him. Especially not when he said the right things. When he showed how much he cared about my son. But who would be caring about him?

  Likely just me. “Will you be in danger?”

  He paused, still staring into my eyes. Looking like a man weighing the pros and cons between lying and telling the truth. Thankfully, he seemed to choose truth.

  “Yeah, I will. But trust me—I’m coming home to you.”

  Another promise, one I wasn’t sure I should believe in this time. This was all just so…much. Dangerous and cutting and a reminder of all I’d already been through. I stepped out of his hold, pulling away and crossing my arms over my chest. Needing a barrier between us. Unable to comprehend what had happened overnight and then this morning. The vast change that had occurred.

  “This is crazy.” I shook my head when Parris tried to reach for me, pinning him in place with a glare. “I know nothing about you—not your age, your hometown, if your parents are still alive, what you do for the club—”

  “I’m forty-two, but we’ve had that conversation before.” He waited, that smile reviving itself, until I nodded. We had talked about that. “And I grew up as an Army brat, so I don’t have a hometown. My parents are both dead. What I do for the club falls into dangerous territory—ask me something else, and I’ll tell you.”

  “Just not that.”

  He shook his head slowly, keeping his eyes on mine. “Just not that.”

  I took a deep breath, still glaring. Letting my mind wrap around what I wanted to know, which was everything. “Do you have any siblings?”

  His smile disappeared, a tic forming in his jaw. “My dad remarried when I was in high school and had a daughter with the woman. They named her Ashley.”

  “Where is she now?”

  “Dead.” One word, rough and clipped. Obviously, Ashley was a sore subject for him.

  “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

  “Of course you didn’t.” He inched closer, carefully caging me against the counter as if I were some sort of rabid dog. Slipping his hands to my waist as he tugged me closer. All his movements slow and careful. Calculated. “Anything you want to know, I’ll tell you. Maybe not now, but later. I promise.”

  I didn’t have a lot of faith in that vow. “Fine. Where do you live now? Do you have a home? What do you do to make money? Why do you wear a nomad patch when most bikers I’ve seen have one that specifies a town? What’s your real name, and why do they call you Parris?” I swallowed once, refusing to give up the upper hand in this conversation and going in for the kill question. “How long do you intend to stay in Justice once the Soul Suckers are eliminated?”

  The pounding of little feet pulled Parris up short before he could respond, and we both turned to watch as Beckett came running around the corner into the kitchen and dove at the man. Skinny arms wrapped around a thick neck, my baby giving away his affection so freely. So willingly.

  Beckett didn’t even wait to let go of Parris before he asked, “Are we going to get my bike now?”

  Ice picks to the heart would have hurt less than to know what was coming and not be able to protect Beckett from the pain. I kept my mouth shut, letting Parris deal with his broken promise. Letting him be the one to tell Beckett he wouldn’t be sticking around.

  Parris set my son back on his feet, crouching so they were face-to-face and looking the boy square in the eye. “I’m really sorry, little man, but I have to go out of town for work.”

  Beckett’s face fell, his lip quivering, and my rage at the man intensified. “But why?”

  Parris didn’t falter under that sad, whiny voice. He placed one hand on Beckett’s shoulder and kept looking him in the eye. “You’re still getting a bike today. I made you a promise, and a ma
n is only as good as his word.”

  My son’s voice was too soft, too weak when he asked, “How, if you’re not taking me?”

  “The bike store is bringing you their bikes so you can shop from here.”

  It took a few seconds for those words to sink in, but when they did, the change was instant. Beckett grinned, glancing at me with excitement clear on his expressive little face before refocusing on Parris. “Really?”

  “Really. You pick out whatever one you want. They’ll have helmets too.” Parris turned to catch my eye. “I told them to bring me the best because I had a precious little boy who needed all the protection in the world.”

  Ice picks. Seriously.

  Beckett wasn’t one to let someone off easy, though. “I wanted you to come with me, Mister Parris.”

  “I know, bud. But I have to do a few things to be able to stick around. Gotta put in the time now so I can enjoy your company later.”

  “So you’re coming back?”

  Again, Parris shot a look at me. Again, hanging on to my son as if physical touch would cement the vow he was making. “Absolutely. Give me a few days, and I’ll be back. And then we’ll go riding that bike of yours.”