Sinful Haven

by Brook Wilder

  Realizing Sabrina was still waiting for an explanation, I drew an imaginary circle on the scarred bar top. “Damian was my brother’s best friend. We grew up together.”

  “Was,” Sabrina repeated slowly. “What happened?”

  I gave her a shrug. “He got killed while serving overseas. Damian disappeared after his funeral and I haven’t seen him for ten years.”

  “No wonder he looked at you like he was seeing a ghost,” she said softly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up anything painful for you.”

  I slid off the stool, not really wanting to talk anymore. “It’s fine. Thanks for breakfast. I’ll see you later.”

  “Sure,” she called after me as I made my way back to the borrowed room, shutting the door behind me. I slumped my shoulders, allowing myself to fall back on the door. I should just leave. If I knew my family would be safe, I would, but once the cartel found out I wasn’t among the dead, I would be putting everyone in danger.

  Rex had said so himself last night. The cartel didn’t like to leave witnesses. He’d sent two bikers to ride to my parent’s house to stake it out until this blew over. I was grateful that he was willing to do that for me: a stranger. Even though I couldn’t help but be a little scared, knowing that they were safe meant I could focus on what was happening here.

  Not Damian. I couldn’t focus on him. Whenever I did, I couldn’t breathe properly, my heart beating just a little too fast for comfort. Him in my thoughts brought me back to the day we said goodbye to both him and my brother, the last time I had seen Will and could physically touch him.

  “Hold on just one minute. Come on, y’all smile!”

  I broke out into a smile, Will’s arm tightening on my shoulder. He looked so handsome in his fatigues. So did Damian. His arm was around my waist, barely touching me yet touching me enough to make my skin tingle pleasantly. It had been so embarrassing to face him in the light of day after last night, but he hadn’t acted any differently and I was glad to see that Will hadn’t remembered anything either.

  Of course it was imprinted in my brain and I couldn’t even look at Damian without thinking about his lips on mine, the hunger of his kiss before he realized who he was kissing and backed off.

  God, I wished he hadn’t backed off.

  “Good, perfect picture,” my mom beamed. Will removed his arm but Damian didn’t right away, giving my waist a small squeeze before he moved on.

  Did I imagine it? Maybe it was just wishful thinking. I nervously cleared my throat as Will looked at my mom’s picture, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Save that one for me. That’s a great one, Mom.”

  “Yes, well, I thought so.” She blushed, tucking her phone into her pocket before hugging him. “Oh Will, we are going to miss you so much!”

  My dad grunted. “I think they are calling the boys now.”

  A lump formed in my throat as my mom’s smile faded and she clung to my brother just a bit tighter until he had to unwind her arms from around his neck. “I’ll be fine, Mom, and I’ll call every week, I swear.”

  A glimmer of tears appeared in her eyes as Will and my dad embraced. “Take care of yourself out there,” my dad said gruffly. “We want you to come home in one piece, son.”

  “I will,” Will answered before turning to me.

  With a sob, I ran into his arms, clinging to him tightly. “I don’t want you to go,” I said, my voice muffled by his chest.

  “Aw come on, Elisa,” he said, pressing a kiss into my hair. “I’ll be back before you know it, okay? Then you can tell me all about the gross stuff you’ve learned.”

  He pulled back before I was ready and I realized Damian was hugging my mom before shaking hands with my dad.

  Then it was my turn. I flushed when I thought about the way I had kissed him last night.

  A lopsided smile appeared on his face, his knuckles lightly grazing my jaw. “Hey, make sure you include a care package for me, alright?”

  I didn’t ask where his parents were, not believing they wouldn’t come see their son off. “I will.” What would he do right now if I threw myself at him and kissed him again? Likely Will would kill him, and I couldn’t have that happen right before they were about to leave.

  Damian winked and picked up his bags, Will doing the same. With one more grin to us and a wave, they walked away, joining the rest of the troops that would be making the journey alongside them.

  My dad’s hand came to rest on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “He’ll come back. Will is tough.”

  I didn’t answer, unable to find the words. All I could think was that I wanted this year to fly by so my brother would be back on safe ground and I wouldn’t have to watch him walk into danger again.

  I wiped the tears from my face as I came out of the memory, wishing I could remember how Will’s arms had felt around me that last time. Watching him walk away had been the hardest thing I’d ever faced, or at least I thought so then, until he had come back in a coffin.

  And Damian. Did he ever even think about my brother? He was his best friend. They did everything together and it made no sense that he hadn’t contacted us not once after Will’s death.

  Not once.

  A frantic knock on the door jarred me out of my thoughts and I pushed away from it, opening the door to find Kris standing there. She was a bit pale and I was surprised to see such a strong woman like her looking like she was about to throw up.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s Rex,” she said, twisting her hands together. “He cut his hand on a bottle and it won’t stop bleeding.”

  My nurse mode kicked in and I straightened. “Where is he?”

  She motioned for me to follow and wound back into a part of the clubhouse I hadn’t seen yet. There was a suite of rooms back there, like a small apartment and I realized this was their home away from home. Rex was seated at a kitchen table, a blood-soaked towel wrapped around his left hand. His eyes were dull and his expression full of pain, something he tried to immediately cover up the moment he saw me.

  “I told her it would stop soon,” he said, his expression darkening.

  “Shut the hell up, Rex,” Kris fired back. “You’re freaking bleeding out and you are too hardheaded to listen to a word I say so I brought an expert.”

  “I’m not an expert,” I said softly as I approached the table. “But I can tell you if you need to go to the hospital at least.”

  “No hospital,” he grumbled as I pulled out the chair in front of him and sat down. “We got too much shit to worry about and I’m not about to be laid up in a hospital somewhere.”

  “But if you die, you’re no help either,” Kris muttered under her breath, her tone laced with true concern.

  I reached for his hand, gently unwrapping the towel. “How did this happen?”

  “I was cleaning up this morning,” Rex finally said. “And slipped on a damn rug. I had a bottle in my hand at the time.”

  “Ouch,” I said, keeping my voice light. I finally exposed the wound and found a nasty cut on his palm. “Pretty nasty cut you have here.”

  “You hear that?” he said, looking at his wife. “A cut. It’s a fucking cut, Kris.”

  “Oh my God,” she said, throwing her hands in the air. “You are so fucking stubborn. I can’t deal with this.”

  I cleared my throat, trying to cut the tension. “It’s going to need some stitches. I can probably keep you from going to the hospital if you have a medical kit.”

  “I’ll get it,” Kris said, her eyes flashing.

  Rex chuckled as she stormed out of the room, wincing as I dabbed at it. “She’s so pissed. I’m gonna pay for this later.”

  “She was worried,” I said, looking up at him.

  He blew out a breath, his grin fading. “Yeah I know. Trust me, we will be over it by tomorrow afternoon.”

  I just shook my head, keeping the grin off my face. Despite their arguing, I could see an underlying worry on her face and the same with him.

 
What an unconventional couple.

  Within an hour, I had the wound stitched up and a clean bandage in place. “Make sure you limit the use of that hand for a few days,” I told my patient as I cleaned up my mess. “You don’t want to pop those stitches or have your hand get infected.”

  “I hope it falls off,” Kris added, glaring at her husband. “That’ll teach you to be this goddamn stubborn.”

  Rex reached out and grabbed her with his good hand, pulling her to his side. “Aw come on, Kris. Don’t you want to live up to your name?”

  She touched noses with him. “Not right now, Rex Harper.”

  A smile touched my lips as I threw away the medical supplies, washing my hands in the sink. I was glad to take my mind off the last forty-eight hours for a while and do something meaningful. Wiping my hands on the towel, I turned. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

  “Thank you, Elisa,” Kris said, giving me a half smile. “I’m sorry you had such a difficult patient.”

  “Who? Me?” Rex asked innocently. “Never.”

  “You’re welcome,” I answered, laughing. “If you need anything else, just let me know.”

  Kris walked me to the door, holding it open so I could exit. “You know,” she said as I passed through. “We could really use someone with your skills in one of the clubs. Your pick.”

  I nearly laughed in her face. I was far from interested in joining a biker club. I hadn’t even ridden a motorcycle in my life. “I think I will pass, but thanks.”

  She gave me a curious look. “Think about it. No rush.”

  I walked away, back to my borrowed bedroom, wondering what made her ask me. I wasn’t interested.

  Not in the least.

  Chapter 6

  Damian

  “Absolutely not. No fucking way. You call that fucker up and tell him the deal is off.”

  I leaned against the wall of the board room while Rex ranted and raved, wondering where the hell the bandage on his hand had come from. I had just finished telling him everything, from Voodoo, to the deal he offered me last night, and the ramifications if I didn’t accept.

  I hadn’t expected for him to just readily agree, but Rex was really throwing a fit.

  “Rex, come on,” Widow Maker said, trying to calm down her husband. “Just think about it. We can’t have the clubs run afoul of the CIA like this. We just barely got away from the ATF.”

  “He’s got shit about Brad Walker’s death,” I added, glancing at the closed door to make sure no one else was hearing this conversation. Brad Walker had been the crooked chief of police who tried and failed to kill Widow Maker. He got a bullet in his brain for his efforts, and his death had been justified given his tangle with the cartel. We all thought everyone bought the story of his death being an accident.

  Until fucking Voodoo just informed me that the CIA knew the truth.

  Chains snorted. “Walker deserved to die. He kidnapped kids and nearly got my wife killed in the process. If I could, I’d bring him back so I can kill him again.”

  “That’s not all,” I said. “He says if I don’t cooperate, he’ll re-open the case, trying to say we set Walker up just to knock his ass off.”

  Widow Maker paled and fell into one of the chairs in the room, visibly shaken. “This cannot be happening.”

  “It’s not happening,” Chains told her, though his expression was strained as well. None of us thought Walker’s death would come back to haunt us.

  “That’s not the only thing,” I continued, swallowing. “They know about everything and they’re prepared to build a case. If it goes through, every club member associated with Jesters or the Bitches will be looking at twenty to life at best.”

  “Shit,” Widow Maker breathed, wiping a hand over her face. “We can’t let that happen.”

  “It’s not gonna happen, okay?” Chains interrupted, glaring at me. “They don’t have shit. It’s a ploy to get us to play by their terms.”

  “But what if it isn’t?” she challenged. “We can’t take that chance, Rex. We can’t allow our family to go to prison because we had an out and didn’t take it. It’s our job to protect them, to make this go away and never impact their lives.”

  “Dammit,” Chains growled, slamming his unbandaged hand on the table. “We don’t need this shit right now. We got enough issues to worry about.”

  Widow Maker looked at me, concern written all over her face. “If we do this, if you do this, will that be the end?”

  I gave her a half shrug. “Personally? No, I don’t think it will be. I think he’s testing us to see how far we are willing to go to keep our shit under wraps.” I would be fucking surprised if this was the only favor Voodoo or the CIA asked of us. Gun Jesus said the CIA wanted us to fight their war for them, and holding leverage over the clubs was an easy way to force us to do the dirty work. That way they kept their noses clean in case anyone else started sniffing around. After all, that was how the CIA operated overseas.

  It was brilliant, but I just hated that we were the one in the middle of this shit.

  “We have to do it,” Widow Maker said quietly. “We don’t have a choice.”

  “I’ll do it,” I added. Hell, I didn’t give a shit about Raul or Hector and taking down the cartel would be a hell of a lot easier without them at the helm. The CIA were giving us an unsanctioned hit pass and I wasn’t about to pass that up, not with all of this on the line.

  Because at the end of the day, Widow Maker was right. If we said no, we were putting all of our lives in jeopardy. People would be torn away from each other, people who were happy now. Club members like Mama Bear would be taken away from their kids for good.

  We couldn’t risk it. The three of us would be looking at life and I would rather off myself than spend the rest of my life in a prison cell.

  “Fine,” Chains finally said, though he didn’t look too happy about it. “Machine Gun, you tell me what you need from us and we will make it happen.”

  Widow Maker pushed out of the chair, still looking worried. “I have to meet with my council. How much of this do you want me to tell them?”

  “Very little,” Chains replied. “Don’t let on that the CIA is looking at the clubs. If we do, it will be chaos and panic around here, and we might as well just open the door for the cartel to wipe us out.”

  She gave her husband a nod and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

  Chains let out a sigh, slumping in his chair. “Damn my hand hurts.”

  I grinned. “What the hell did you do to it?”

  By the end of his story, I was laughing so hard my body was shaking.

  “Kris thought I was dying,” he muttered, his face red. “So she called Elisa in.”

  I sobered at her name. “For what?”

  He held up his neatly bandaged hand. “For this, you dumbass. She stitched me right up, though now I can’t do shit for a few days. Kris is already marking up a list of what I can and cannot do around here. Sometimes it’s a pain in the ass being married.”

  I wasn’t paying him much attention, thinking about how he had seen her and I hadn’t.

  Not that I was seeking her out at all.

  More like staying as far away from her as I could.

  “What’s up with you two anyway? You damn near passed out when I told you to watch over her. Unless I read you wrong, I thought you would be happy.”

  I glared at him. “Still trying to figure out how to get it out of me, aren’t you?”

  He gave me a shrug, a grin on his face. “Maybe. I’ve just never seen you like this before. Is she some former flame or something? Looks a little young for you.”

  “I’m not that fucking old,” I growled, thinking of the five year age gap between us. That had been one of the many reasons I’d never gone there. “She was my best friend’s kid sister, alright?”

  “Oh shit,” Rex laughed. “I didn’t think of that one. So like a hands-off-unless-you-want-your-ass-beat situation.”

  I cleare
d my throat. Hell, what did it matter if he knew the truth? “More like I am responsible for her brother’s death kind of situation and she doesn’t know it.”

  Rex’s laughter died. “Oh. I get it now. Sorry, man. I didn’t know.”

  I waved him off, not really wanting to hear another apology. “I’m good, but it’s my job to keep her safe now so I don’t want her in any of this shit, alright?”

  “Alright,” Rex said, looking down at his bandage. “I got you. Do you want me to reassign her to someone else?”