Devil's Disciples MC Series- The Complete Boxed Set

by Scott Hildreth

  I stared in disbelief at the carnage while tugging against my earlobes. In seconds, events unraveled that would forever alter our futures.

  Cash pointed his pistol at the dying officer’s chest. Exhausted from his last efforts to remain with the living, he slumped to the floor. His pistol clattered across the tile, coming to a stop between them.

  In a sitting position against the wall, the officer held my gaze. Filled with regret, I watched as he drew his last uneven breath.

  Cash holstered his weapon. He turned and reached for one of the steel boxes.

  “Leave it!” Baker demanded.

  Cash paused. His face contorted. He faced Baker. “What the—”

  “Don’t take anything,” Baker barked. He glanced around the room. “Get this place policed of every hair, flake of skin, piece of fiber, shell casing, and whatever else might tie us to this robbery. Get everything. If we’re caught with one coin or piece of jewelry from this botched up mess, we’ll get the death penalty.”

  Baker was right. Death by lethal injection for everyone in the room would be the sentence if one person was caught and convicted for killing either of the two law enforcement officers.

  My eyes drifted to the first officer. Slumped against the wall like he was taking a rest from a long day at work, his eyes remained open. I wanted to fix everything—put it back the way it was—but there was nothing I could do.

  Everything I wanted. All that I had hoped for. My life’s aspirations. My dreams with Reggie. Our adventure. The thought of it all evaporating encompassed me, paralyzing me from doing anything but staring into the eyes of the dead man who sat before me.

  “Echo One to Echo Six,” I heard Baker say into the two-way radio.

  Reno’s response came quick. “Echo Six. Go ahead.”

  “We’re code black, Echo Six,” Baker said in a shaking voice. “We need a clear path home.”

  “Roger that,” Reno replied. “Everything’s in place. It’s your call, Echo one.”

  Baker cleared his throat. “Blow this place to Kingdom fucking Come.”

  237

  Reggie

  “Do you think you’ll feel better by time to go?” I asked.

  He looked up from sipping his tea. “I don’t know.”

  “I know you don’t want to hear it, but I think you should go to the doctor,” I said. “You’ve been sick for over a week. We didn’t go two Sundays ago because dad was working, and we didn’t go last Sunday because you were sick. From how you’re acting, I’m guessing we’re not going again today. My dad’s going to be so disappointed.”

  “I’m sorry, but my stomach is killing me.”

  I suspected there was more to it than a stomachache. His symptoms—depression, lethargy, lack of appetite, and irritability—started the day after his motorcycle club’s impromptu late-night meeting on the previous Thursday.

  “You haven’t eaten anything or slept in a week,” I reasoned, my tone expressing my frustration with his refusal to see a doctor. “I’m surprised you’re not in the hospital already.”

  “If I’m not better in a few days, I’ll go.”

  I sat down across from him. “Promise?”

  He sighed. “Yes.”

  “If you’re not better by Tuesday.”

  “Okay.”

  He appeared to be defeated. Like he’d all but given up on life. For the most part, since we made love the first time, we’d spent every night together. One consistency was that he slept, and slept well, each night.

  Now?

  What little time he slept was interrupted by sudden wakeups, bouts of upset stomach, and oftentimes, me waking to find him scouring the internet on his phone.

  His late-night fascination?

  The news.

  “A stomachache?” I asked. “Is that all that’s wrong?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “This isn’t going to work out very well if we don’t talk to one another,” I said. “I think there’s more to it than that. Remember, I’m the daughter of a detective.”

  His posture straightened. “What does that mean?”

  “It means I’m not stupid when it comes to things like human nature. You’re acting different. Something’s bothering you. I’m not saying your stomach isn’t. I’m just…I guess I’m saying that I think something else is causing it. It all seemed to start when you got back from that meeting with your MC last Friday morning. Since then you haven’t eaten or slept worth a damn. Your stomach problems are a result of whatever’s bothering you.”

  He stared back at me, blankly.

  I arched an eyebrow. “Well?”

  “You’re partially right,” he admitted.

  “Which part?”

  “Pretty much all of it.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  His look softened. “I can’t.”

  I was annoyed, and he could clearly see it. I rested my elbows on the table and looked into his weary eyes. “Can’t, or won’t?”

  He struggled with his response.

  “I’ll give you a minute to chew on that,” I said, leaning away from the table.

  “The club got into something I wish we wouldn’t have,” he replied. “I can’t discuss the details, but I can say I regret what happened. There’s talk of the club disbanding. We’d remain friends, but the club would be no more.”

  “The club’s disbanding because of what happened?”

  “I didn’t say anything happened,” he replied. “I said we got into something I wish we wouldn’t have.”

  “Let’s not bicker about semantics.” I waved my hand in his direction. “You know what I mean.”

  “The club may be disbanding because we’re all older, less reliant on what the club provides, and much less eager to continue along the same path we’ve traveled upon for the last fifteen years.”

  “Is the club dissolving what’s really bothering you?” I asked. “You’ve been in it since high school, right?”

  “I have.”

  “So, is that one of the things that’s making you sick? The thought of losing that?”

  “It might be,” he responded, pushing his cup of tea to the side. “But it’s not the thing that’s bothering me.”

  “What’s the thing?” I asked.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t say.”

  “Is it something you did?”

  “No.”

  “One of the other guys?”

  “Yes. But I’m as culpable as anyone.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “As far as the laws are written, when anyone enters into a gang, which is what our MC falls under by definition, all members of the gang are responsible for any other gang member’s actions.”

  “Was whatever the other person did a felony?” I asked.

  “It was.”

  My heart sank. “Oh.”

  I knew Tito wasn’t a choirboy and allowed myself to fall in love with him despite that knowledge. I didn’t like the thought of him being charged with a felony, or of him potentially going to jail, but it came with the territory that I’d knowingly agreed was mine.

  I stood, crossed my arms, and gave him a crisp nod. “Get up, we’re going to my fathers to eat dinner.”

  “I feel like shit,” he replied.

  “So do I, now that I know half the truth on why you’re sick.” I gave him a serious look. “But sitting here sulking about it isn’t going to fix it. We’ll get through this, and we’ll get through it together.”

  His face washed with worry. “If you knew the entire truth, you might not be saying that.”

  “Saying what?”

  “That we’ll get through this together. Part of what’s eating at me is that I’m afraid the actions of the club are going to tear us apart.”

  “I knew who you were when I agreed to be in a relationship with you,” I replied. “I can’t have my cake and eat it, too. Whatever it is, we’ll get through it. Together.”

  “No matter what?” he asked
.

  “No matter what,” I replied. “I mean, it isn’t like you guys went out and murdered someone.”

  238

  Tito

  I may have been wallowing in guilt, but Reggie’s father wasn’t doing much better. He was happy to see us, no doubt, but he wasn’t his normal self. Gathered in his living room for our Sunday evening get together, Reggie and I were side by side in the loveseat across from him.

  Seated in his favorite reclining chair, Ted reached for his phone. “If everyone’s okay with pizza, I’ll order it.”

  “You’re not going to make steaks?” Reggie asked, clearly disappointed.

  “Don’t feel like it,” he responded. “I’ve used this DoorDash thing four or five times this week. It’s a pretty good deal.”

  Her brows raised. “You haven’t been cooking?”

  “I’ve been a little under the weather.”

  “Since when?”

  “All week.”

  “You’re not the only one,” she replied, shifting her eyes to me. “Tito’s been a little off all week, too.”

  “You’ve been sick?” he asked.

  “Just not feeling myself.”

  “That’s about where I’ve been.” He raised the phone to his ear. “Just a little off my normal self.”

  “Do you want to talk bout it?” Reggie asked.

  “Not particularly.”

  “You know keeping it bottled up will just make you angry,” she said.

  He raised his index finger, turned away, and ordered the pizzas. When he was finished, he placed his phone on the end table. “It’s just work.”

  “Of course it is,” she replied. “What else would it be?”

  “I’ve sheltered you from the details of my work for many reasons,” he said, seeming almost irritated by her remark. “Partially because I don’t want to compromise an investigation. More importantly, I don’t want to expose you to the world I’m forced to live in.”

  “What world is that?” Reggie asked.

  “One where one man has no regard for his fellow. One where a human life doesn’t receive the value that it should. One where criminals seem to always be one step ahead of their captors, roaming amongst the law-abiding citizens, free to wreak their havoc on the lives of the innocent.”

  Reggie’s eyes widened. “Where did that come from?”

  He moved the chair from reclined to an upright seating position. He stood. “I’m pissed off, Reg.”

  “We’re listening.”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “Do you drink scotch?”

  I stood. “I do.”

  He waved his hand at me. “Sit. “I’ll bring the bottle.”

  In a moment he returned with three glasses and a bottle of Johnnie Walker. He poured the glasses half-full and handed each of us one.

  He set the bottle on the end table and reclined in his chair. He raised the glass to his nose, drew a slow breath, and closed his eyes. “I like smelling this stuff as much as I like drinking it.”

  “I love the smell of good scotch,” I said.

  He opened his eyes. “I found out there’s some truth to my gang theory, but I’m not one step closer to bagging these pricks.” He sipped his scotch. “It’s frustrating.”

  “You’ve blamed that gang for every unsolved crime since before I was in college,” Reggie said. “You don’t even know if they exist. I think you’ve been blaming them for everything because you want a reason not to retire.”

  He took another sip of scotch and then smelled the glass. He looked up. “They exist.”

  “Have you seen them?” he asked.

  He smiled. “Every night in my dreams.”

  “You’re not going to be serious about what’s bothering you, are you?”

  “Probably not.”

  Reggie looked at me, and then at him. “Men are idiots sometimes.”

  “I won’t argue that,” he said.

  I tilted my glass toward him. “Neither will I.”

  “What are you blaming your little gang for now?” she asked.

  “Wreaking their havoc on the innocents of this fine state.”

  Reggie rolled her eyes.

  “I shelter you from the details because I love you.” He finished his scotch and poured another glass. “You’ve always asked for details, and I’ve always given what I think you can handle, and no more. It’s what we do for those we love.”

  “Oh. So, this tight-lipped life you’ve been living is to protect me?” she asked in a snide tone. “All of the vague stories after your late nights and long weekends?”

  “When a man loves a woman, he’ll do anything to preserve that love,” he replied. “The love between a father and daughter is no exception to that rule. If anything, that bond is more sacred. Stronger. So strong, it’s impossible to sever.”

  “Impossible, huh?” she scoffed. “I could go rob a bank, and you’d forgive me?”

  “You’re my daughter.”

  She leaned forward. “You didn’t answer me.”

  “I shouldn’t have to, but I will.” He leaned forward. “Yes, I would.”

  “You’d forgive me?”

  “Absolutely.”

  She studied him for a moment. She relaxed into the loveseat and let out a sigh. “I wish you’d retire.”

  “I wish I could.”

  “You can. That’s the sad part. You could have years ago.”

  “Not until this case is closed,” he argued. “It’s a promise I made myself years ago.”

  “You’re alive and healthy,” Reggie argued. “What if your pursuit of these fictional characters takes you into a world of reality? One where someone pulls out a gun and shoots you? Then, there’s no retirement, no fishing boat, no daughter, and no miserable son-in-law sulking on the loveseat.”

  “Son-in-law?” his eyes darted between us. “Is there something I should know?”

  Reggie shook her head. “I was being facetious.”

  “I thought I missed the boat.”

  “If that boat ever sails,” I said. “I’ll be sure to get you an invitation.”

  He grinned. “I’d appreciate it.”

  “Will you consider retiring?” Reggie asked. “Please? I don’t want you obsessing about your work any longer. It’s unhealthy, and I’m afraid something bad is going to happen to you one of these days.”

  He lowered his glass. “That’s a risk I suppose I’m willing to take.”

  “It’s not one I’m willing to take,” she said, her voice filled with emotion. “My life is headed in the right direction, and I want to make sure you stick around to enjoy our journey with us.”

  “Journey?” he asked. “Where are you two headed?”

  “Nowhere in particular,” Reggie replied. “We announced our love for one another. Who knows where we’re going from here.”

  She no more than spoke and the doorbell rang. Ted leaped over the edge of the recliner without lowering it and yanked the door open. “Here,” he said, handing the delivery guy a few loose bills from his wallet. “Keep the pizza. We lost our appetite.”

  He shut the door.

  “What are you doing?” Reggie asked. “What do you mean, we lost our appetite?”

  He faced her. “You two are in love? I know what comes next,” he said, his face glowing with pride. “After an announcement like that, I’m not eating fucking pizza.”

  “Are you cooking steaks?”

  “No,” he replied. “We’re going out for seafood. My treat.”

  I hadn’t eaten any solid food for a week. Excited that I felt fractionally more at ease, I stood upon hearing his offer.

  “Yaaaaay!” Reggie leaped from her seat. “I know the perfect place. The waitresses are kind of old, though.”

  “Sandy’s?” he asked.

  “How’d you know?”

  “Eating seafood is like living life,” he replied. “There are only two options, right and wrong. Fresh seafood is right, and everything else is wrong.”

 
“Sandy’s is where Tito took me on our first date.”

  He gave me a prideful look and patted me on the shoulder. “Another good reason to welcome you to the family. You know right from wrong.”

  239

  Reggie

  Awakened by the craziest dream I’d ever had, I sat up in bed and looked around the moonlit room. Wide awake, breathless, and petrified by the insanity of the lucid tale, I feared the dream would return if I fell back to sleep.

  I glanced at Tito. Exhausted from a week and a half without sleep, he was lying flat on his back, dead asleep. The sound of his light snoring was hypnotic and peaceful.

  I studied him for a moment, finding solace in his state of being. Then, the answer to my concern came to me. I pulled back the covers and exposed his naked body. Sleeping in the nude had its benefits, and Tito was about to find out what they were. I took his flaccid girth in my hand and began to stroke it. I found it fascinating that his facial expression changed from stoic to smiling even though he was asleep at the time.

  I wondered what he was thinking while in his state of slumber. While I carefully yanked his dick into a rigid state, were his dreams blissful or was he being accosted?

  In no time, his thick shaft filled my hand. Using caution, I wrapped my lips around the tip, being careful not to wake him in the process. After receiving no objection on his part, I took him into my mouth a little at a time, watching him the entire while. His facial expression changed without warning or reason, going from expressionless to smiling at random times.

  Knowing I was pleasuring him—albeit in his sleep—drove me wild with desire. Driven by that sexual longing, I continued my oral onslaught with a fervor. Although I was prepared for him to awaken, he didn’t. In fact, he didn’t even stir in his sleep. Excited beyond comprehension at the possibilities of what I could get away with, I ached in all the places a woman yearns to ache.

  Thirty seconds later, Tito was as hard as a rock. My panties were soaked. I lifted my head and checked his status. Finding him fast asleep excited me even more.

  I slid off my panties and tossed them aside. Soaking wet and ready to try my luck at fucking my sleeping lover, I carefully straddled him in the cowgirl position. Shaking with desire, I guided his bulging cock between my legs.