Wicked Legacy: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Rough Jesters MC Book 8)

Home > Romance > Wicked Legacy: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Rough Jesters MC Book 8) > Page 6
Wicked Legacy: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Rough Jesters MC Book 8) Page 6

by Brook Wilder


  Why did he have to look so good?

  Why did he have to be the one I had slept with?

  Could he be a father? Did I want him to be a father?

  My shoulders slumped. Well, if nothing else, he knew where I lived now. I wasn’t going to force Amelia on him at all, giving him the option to bond with her or not. Whether he truly believed she was his wasn’t my problem. I would still be her mother and protect her with my life.

  I just hoped that if something did happen to me, he would protect her as well. That was the only thing I could wish for.

  Pushing away from the door, I started toward my bedroom. I had to get ready for work tonight, and something deep down in my soul told me it wasn’t going to be just a normal night.

  Chapter 8

  Halftrack

  I stomped down the stairs, my boots thudding on the wood louder than necessary. I had fucking screwed that up all the way around. What the fuck was wrong with me, accusing Cora of not even having a kid to begin with?

  Maybe I was desperate to find a way to catch her in a lie and therefore get me off the hook with this whole kid thing.

  That and give me a reason to keep my distance from her, too. Seeing her in her element today had me thinking about what she did on that couch, or what she had underneath her lounging clothes for that matter.

  She looked like one of those wholesome midwestern girls that men married and settled down with.

  Well, until I had insulted her. For a moment there, I thought she would hit me again, and this time, I would clearly have deserved it.

  I stepped onto the concrete and turned the corner, nearly running headlong into a woman coming that way.

  “Watch it,” she said, backing up, familiar eyes flashing anger.

  I looked down at what she was carrying, my breath freezing in my lungs. It was a baby dressed in a pink onesie, her curious blue-gray eyes staring up at me, unblinking.

  Holy shit, she looked just like me.

  “Oh my God, tell me she didn’t invite you here.”

  I made eye contact with the now-angry woman in front of me, realizing this must be the sister. “She did,” I answered, shoving my hands in my pockets so I wouldn’t reach out and touch the baby. “Official business, of course.”

  Her eyes narrowed and she slid the carrier onto her other arm, facing the baby away from me. “You are an asshole! You left her pregnant, not even giving a shit that you had done so. Do you know what she went through?”

  “I didn’t know,” I forced out, my words sounding hollow to my own ears. “You can’t hold that against me.”

  She let out a sharp laugh. “I can hold a lot against you. You have no idea what my sister has gone through to give this precious girl a good life. Now she’s tied up in this cartel mess and, well, clearly you don’t care about that either or you would be pulling her out.”

  I hadn’t truly given it much thought until my eyes had landed on that baby. Now, the idea of her being mine was starting to become clearer. “Your sister is headstrong.”

  She pursed her lips. “That is something we both can agree on, but I have seen her broken before and I don’t care to see her like that again. Cora is strong and this child here, she’s ours, not yours. If it was up to me, you wouldn’t have seen her just now.”

  “If she is mine, I have rights,” I said, glaring at her. “Don’t forget it.”

  “How could I?” She laughed. “But that doesn’t mean you have access to my sister. Stay away from her.”

  She then shouldered past me, lugging the carrier up the stairs without a backward glance. I watched her go, swallowing the lump in my throat as I watched the carrier disappear from my direct line of sight.

  One thing was for sure. That was likely my kid.

  Later that night, sometime after two in the morning, I watched Cora come out of the Drunken Worm, her bag slung over her shoulder and her cell phone in her hand. After leaving her apartment, I had touched base with Chains, who had told me that they had set up a temporary clubhouse on the outskirts of town, near the border. So far, they hadn’t caused any stir amongst the cartel, but he wanted me to tell Siren when I met with her that they were on Mexican soil, ready for a fight.

  I just hoped this plan didn’t blow up in our faces.

  First, I had a shadow to kill.

  Sure enough, the moment Cora got clear of the bar, a man slunk onto her path, staying near the shadows in case she looked back. I pushed away from the wall I had been holding up and started to follow him. So, she hadn’t imagined it. She was being followed.

  And after I got a glimpse of that baby today, I wasn’t about to let anything happen to Cora. I felt like shit for what I had said to her in the brief times we had been face-to-face, accusing her of sleeping around and of faking it.

  Maybe she was telling the truth.

  Of course, anyone else would say that all babies had the same blue eyes when they were born, but I felt like that baby’s eyes, especially, had bored straight into my soul.

  I had felt a pull, a strong one.

  Cora turned the corner and I hung back, watching as the shadow did the same. I would take him out quickly and cleanly, eliminating the threat without her even knowing I had done so. I didn’t even know if she believed me when I told her I would take care of the problem, but I was going to do it to give her peace of mind that she was safe.

  That I was watching over her.

  As I turned the corner, I spied the bus stop ahead, knowing that the shadow would disappear once Cora reached the crowd that was there despite the late hour.

  Or early, depending which side of the coin you were on.

  Either way, I had to take the person out now.

  My steps were silent on the sidewalk as I increased my movements, reaching him before Cora reached the bus stop. My arm went around his neck and I pulled him sharply to the left, ducking into a convenient alleyway that would hide us both. He struggled against me, but I held on tight, placing a knee behind his and forcing him to his knees.

  He could smell death was upon him, I could tell by his frantic movements. While I normally shot or used my knife on my enemies, I could ill afford for any blood to be spilled tonight. There was still the matter of me getting through the streets and to the apartment that I was renting, ironically, not far from Cora’s place.

  No this would have to be quick and bloodless.

  I increased the pressure and he clawed at my forearm to find some way to get me to release the hold, even trying to pull me over his back until I pulled him back against me, falling onto the hard, wet ground with a thud.

  It wasn’t going to be long now.

  Cold water seeped through my T-shirt as I continued to hold the pressure, smiling grimly as the shadow stopped flailing about before I snapped his neck and pushed the body aside. I couldn’t just leave him incapacitated.

  If I did, then Cora was still in danger.

  No, this was the best way.

  Pulling myself up from the wet ground, I patted the shadow down, finding only one lone serrated knife in the process.

  The kind of knife that was meant to inflict damage on its victim. This guy had been planning on killing Cora at the first opportunity he had.

  ***

  The next afternoon I woke up in a foul mood, my mind still on the fact that someone wanted Cora silenced. Had they found out she was working for the resistance and been told to eliminate her?

  Or had she gotten into something else, another side of her that I didn’t know about?

  Either way, I planned to ask Siren about her choice of partners.

  After showering, I threw on my customary clothing and walked outside, noting that the weather had turned warm. There were more people milling about the streets today and the closer I got to the open market, the more congestion I found myself in.

  A good cover for someone trying to lie low.

  I passed by various stalls of fruits and vegetables, my stomach rumbling from the lack of food I had been c
onsuming. I needed a decent meal after this.

  Someone grabbed my arm and before I could fight back, I was being pulled abruptly behind a vendor stall. “Don’t,” a feminine voice said in my ear as I reached for my knife.

  Siren. I quit fighting and she let me go, giving me my first look at the former Hell’s Bitches’ road captain. “You look good.”

  She did. The Mexican sun had bronzed her skin and lightened her hair, the pale blond strands sticking out from underneath the ball cap she wore. While there was strain on her face, I could see the sparkle of excitement in her eyes.

  “Thanks,” she said, her honeyed voice weaving through my senses. “I didn’t know if you would come.”

  I chuckled. “That’s like saying a dog won’t go after the bone. You sweetened the pot, Siren. I had no choice.”

  She leaned against the wall; the smell of jalapeños was strong in the air. “You know, Voodoo wanted to eliminate you the first time you started poking your nose around our business, but I told him that we needed to wait you out.” She then sighed. “What I didn’t know was that you had been poking other things.”

  So, she knew about the kid and my potential involvement in her making. “The jury is still out on that one.”

  Siren’s eyes flashed. “Are you saying that Cora is lying?”

  “I don’t know,” I said honestly. Hell, I didn’t know the woman any better than I knew the one standing before me. I wanted to say she wasn’t, and I didn’t really think Cora was a liar.

  But she was working with the resistance and passing along information. That made her cunning, if nothing else.

  Siren’s jaw tightened. “Cora is one of the most honest people you will ever meet. If she tells you that’s your kid, Halftrack, then it is.”

  I cleared my throat. “Can we get to the task at hand?” I was tired of talking about my personal life. First Widow, now Siren. Hell, I was a fighter, a killer, not some pansy-assed man with issues.

  She gave me a knowing look. “Fine. We have agreed to help stop these drug runners. The resistance has been hitting up known drug locations around the area, but our side is taking on heavy casualties. These are workers, Halftrack, not fighters.”

  The anxiety in her voice told me it was worse than I had imagined. “We are setting up a temporary clubhouse,” I told her, hoping that would alleviate some of their concern. “All you have to do is reach out, Siren.”

  She bit her lip. “Even after everything that has happened? I don’t know. There’s still some raw hurt from both me and Voodoo. They pretty much abandoned us.”

  I could understand her hurt. “They won’t meddle unless you tell them to.”

  Siren straightened her shoulders, clearing the hurt from her eyes. “Tell them not to look for us. We will find them when the need arises. The moment I get wind this is something more, the deal is off, and we will be long gone, got it?”

  “Loud and clear,” I answered.

  She turned to go. “Keep Cora safe, Halftrack. She’s got a lot to live for and I imagine you do as well, now.”

  I ground my teeth, but Siren was already gone, melting into the crowd beyond the small alcove.

  Suddenly everyone was a critic.

  ***

  Despite the need to touch base with Chains, I found myself looking for the Drunken Worm after night fell on the town. Recognition swirled in my thoughts as I walked through the door, the overwhelming feel that I had actually been here before hitting me full force.

  I had been here.

  I stepped into the dimly lit bar, taking in the rows of tequila along the wall, and knew that I had fucked Cora nearly a year ago.

  Well, shit.

  The person in question was currently behind the bar, smiling at a group of college kids taking shots so I walked to the other end, shouldering my way up to the front. A pretty redhead was turning drinks on that end and her eyes raked down my body invitingly before a coy smile crossed her face. “What can I get you?”

  “A beer,” I answered, seating myself on the barstool. “And your name.”

  She smiled, sliding a beer across the wooden surface. “Amy. Just holler if you need anything.”

  I tipped my beer toward her and took a long guzzle, the cold liquid rushing down my throat. I had been here. There was no doubt about it. My eyes went to where Cora was handling her side of the bar and memories started to filter in, memories of her looking scared and vulnerable that night, like she was dreading something. I had casually thrown out the idea of her going with me and she had jumped on it like a flea on a dog.

  Now I wondered what that could have been.

  “Do you know Cora?”

  I turned to find Amy standing in front of me, a quizzical look on her face. Realizing I had been staring at the woman a bit too long, I gave Amy a grin. “Yeah.”

  “She’s great,” Amy replied. “I mean to come back here after the baby and all; the woman never stops working. She’s calmed Red, too. He was such an asshole while she was gone.”

  Interesting. “How long you worked here, Amy?”

  She shrugged. “A few years, I guess. The tips are good at least.”

  I tipped my beer bottle back up to my mouth. “And your boss?”

  Something flickered in her eyes before she could mask it. “He’s fine. Um, I have to go take care of these customers. Can I get you another beer?”

  “Sure,” I grinned. She gave me a small nod and walked away, her reaction to his name telling me there was more to this asshole Red than just being a part of the cartel. He had scared these girls.

  Which meant that that could have been why Cora had been quick to go with a complete stranger that night.

  The sound of glass breaking brought my attention to the other end of the bar, where the college kids were getting rowdy. One pushed the other and I stood as Cora came around the bar, stepping between them like an idiot. “Now, boys,” she stated, giving them a hefty view of her breasts as she bent over to sweep the broken glass up. “It was just a glass. Nothing to get thrown out over, right?”

  One of the guys placed his hand on her ass and she swung around, knocking it politely back to where it belonged. “That will get you thrown out too. Don’t you want to have a good time tonight?”

  “I would like to have a good time with you,” he slurred, reaching for her.

  Cora was quick, sliding out from his grasp before he could touch her and wagging a finger. “Not gonna happen, but what I will do is give you a round of shots on the house if you promise not to fight.”

  “Hell yeah!” one of the instigators called out, banging his fist on the counter. “Shots!”

  The other joined in with the chant and I rolled my eyes. College kids. With great emphasis on the kid part.

  Chapter 9

  Cora

  He was here.

  I gave the drunk college kid a smile as I rang up his credit card, feeling Clayton’s eyes on me the entire time. I hadn’t been too busy to miss the moment he walked in, or the fact that he had chosen to sit on Amy’s side of the bar.

  He had watched my interaction with this rowdy group and for a moment there, when things had gotten a little heated, I thought he was coming over to help.

  Little did he know that I dealt with this at least once a week and had learned early on how to diffuse a tense situation. Flash a little skin and give him some coy words and every man backed down.

  One of the guys leaned across the bar as I handed his friend his receipt to sign. “You sure we can’t talk you into joining us tonight?”

  “Aren’t you sweet,” I said instantly, giving him a soft smile. “But I’m far too old for you.”

  “But you’re gorgeous,” he stated, weaving a bit on his feet. “And soft.”

  Well, at least he hadn’t said fat. I touched the tip of his nose with my finger. “Go on. Have a good night and don’t get put in jail.”

  He gave me a wobbly grin before he and his friends stumbled out of the bar, no doubt looking for their nex
t party. I gathered up the receipts, smiling as I saw one had left a cool hundred-dollar tip. Now that was pretty awesome.

  “Cora.”

  I filed all the receipts for later and looked at Clayton, who was sliding his way onto one of my empty barstools. “Clayton. You need another beer?”

  He looked down at his nearly empty bottle. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

 

‹ Prev