Bad Boy's Baby: Wicked Angels MC (38 page)

BOOK: Bad Boy's Baby: Wicked Angels MC
9.43Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

 

The two Aztecs finally got sick of taunting me and shut up. I was able to close my eyes and dream. For the first few minutes, I turned the words from Barney over in my head. I couldn’t believe that he was acting so restrained with me; it was like we had no history, no idea of what he thought it meant to be good to the club.
Fucker
, I thought with a growl.
He just wants a fucking paycheck. He doesn’t care about the Devil’s.

 

As the hours dragged by, I stood up and stretched in my cell. Moving was painful, but I could tell that I’d be feeling better in a couple of days. Mostly, I was anxious to speak with Sarah. I had to get to her, or at least give her my word. Normally I wouldn’t have cared that much, but after the little scene in the coffee shop I didn’t want her calling the police. Sarah had to stay away from the cops just like I did; I was sure that she could be convicted of conspiring with Roger. That little ratfaced fucker had cowed to me instantly. It had been so satisfying to watch him rip up the photos of Sarah. He’d kept the same distraught look on his face, like a pathetic little wretch. He
was
a pathetic little wretch, I thought to myself with a grin. And he’d deserve every bad thing that would ever happen to him.

 

I hadn’t told Sarah, but I planned on going back and making sure that he wasn’t going to spill. I knew a few ways to keep him silent. Pliers, a drill, some duct tape. Oh, no, Roger wasn’t going to be harming anyone for a
long
time. Just thinking about him made me rage. I couldn’t believe the emotional and mental strain that he’d put Sarah through. That was the last thing she needed, some guy bullying her into committing a crime. It was one thing if I was an outlaw, it was entirely another if she was forced into doing something against her will.

 

Sarah
. Just thinking about her name was enough to make that sweet scent of vanilla and chili wash over me. I thought of how her face turned that delicious shade of red when she was about to come, and how her sweet body trembled and shook under mine. She was one hot little minx, all right, and it was my duty to keep her coming over and over again. I licked my lips, imagining her salty and musky taste on my mouth. It was enough to make my cock twitch and stir in my pants, and I turned to face the wall so the Aztecs wouldn’t notice.
Sarah
. She was quickly becoming my only escape, my only release.

 

And then there was the matter of the club. Why hadn’t they told me that they’d canceled the meeting? I knew that my guys wouldn’t set me up for anything dangerous. We were brothers, we were a family. If they’d known about the Aztec ambush, they all would have been right there, fighting alongside me.

There was a loud snoring that filled the cell and I turned around to see the two Aztecs asleep, their heads leaning on each other’s shoulders. I watched in disgust as drool slipped out of one of the guy’s mouth, mixed with blood, and dribbled down his chin.

 

“Fucking gross,” I said under my breath. My eyelids were heavy but every time I closed them, Sarah showed up behind my eyes. She was dancing and twirling in my head, with desire stamped plainly on her face. I felt my lips curve into a smile as I imagined Sarah waltzing closer and closer to me, kneeling down before me and stroking the insides of my legs with her soft hands.

 

It took effort not to moan out loud as I thought about her little body poured into a tight dress. Sarah was the sexiest woman that I’d ever seen; she had a killer body and tons of confidence. There was none of that self-conscious bullshit that so many other women struggled with. I never imagined for a second having to convince Sarah how amazing she looked in something and hearing her whine back about how fat she looked.

 

Thinking about Sarah made the time pass quickly, or at least made it feel like less drudgery. After my conversation with Barney, I wasn’t hopeful that I’d make bail. I had no idea whether or not I’d be able to explain myself to Sarah later. I was hopeful that she wouldn’t be pissed, but there was no telling, especially with someone who had such a fiery temper. Thinking of her temper made me excited in whole new ways, and I imagined us screaming at each other in frustration and then grabbing a hold of each other and having rough, hot sex. I imagined me pulling her hair until she screamed with pleasure and want, and the feel of her tight pussy clenching my cock. I loved the way Sarah’s skin took on such a delicious flush when she was aroused. I loved the way she smiled at her with the corners of her lips just barely turned up. It was the most sexy, secret little smile that I’d ever seen, and I was addicted. I thought about just how quickly I could get her in bed; it wasn’t difficult at all to think about walking through her front door, scooping her up, and taking her straight away. I knew that she’d have questions for me but that she’d let her desires take over, as always.

 

Sarah
. Just the merest mention of her name drove me crazy! It was like nothing else I’d ever experienced. I knew from the first time I saw her behind the bar that she was something special. And when we talked and I caught wind of that attitude she flashed around…whoa! It was enough to get my blood pumping every time. There was something so incredibly sexy about a woman who was determined to take care of herself, but still couldn’t quite manage it on her own. It made me feel even more protective of her. Sarah wasn’t helpless, she wasn’t young; she was street smart and sexy as hell. But even she couldn’t manage everything on her own.

 

That was why taking out that fuckwit Roger had felt so satisfying. I closed my eyes and imagined the way he’d been begging me, desperate, before ripping up the photos and promising never to mess with Sarah again. It had been all too easy. I imagined that he’d never actually been challenged before; the sight of me must have been enough to make him want to shit his pants in fear.

 

A low chuckle escaped from my lips as I imagined telling Sarah all about it. I’d obviously leave out the gory details, but I wanted her to know that she never had anything else to worry about ever again. I was an outlaw, but I was
her
outlaw, damnit. And I was going to take care of her if it was the last thing I ever did. I had to admire the way that Sarah wasn’t scared of my intensity. I’d been with so many women who loved it for a night, but wanted a change as soon as it was light outside. So many women who were content with a bad boy in bed but they wanted a gentleman the rest of the time. It was enough to make me laugh; just how did they think men like me got such big balls? Not from fucking wearing a suit and going to college, that’s for damn sure.

 

I’d been with a woman once who had turned me on almost as much as Sarah. She had the same spark, the same fiery look in her eyes. In bed, she’d been an animal. She’d tied me down and licked her tongue all over my body. She’d asked me to spank her until her ass was purple and blue from the bruises. I’d obliged, willingly, but she’d cried in the morning when I left. She’d been so disappointed that I wasn’t going to take her to brunch and meet all of her little friends. It was disgusting. Women like that wanted one good fuck and then they wanted to own you. Sarah wasn’t like that, not at all. I loved the way that she’d been so secretive when we first met, as if something about her was going to scare me away. I could tell that she’d been through rough shit, too, and that it was only a matter of time before her secrets came pouring out, just like mine. That was Sarah’s appeal in a nutshell: she’d been through places just as dark as me, but she wasn’t about to let it ruin her life.

 

I imagined the kind of life we’d have together. I’d be out with the club, raising hell, and come home to her cooking dinner. But instead of eating the meal, I’d fuck her on the table. Afterwards, we’d shower together and I’d fuck her against the wall of the bathroom. Then, later, after the food was cold, I knew that she’d clean up the kitchen and we’d laugh together and order pizza. It was paradise. It was everything that I’d never dreamed of before, because I hadn’t had Sarah. But with Sarah, everything was possible. The whole world was possible.

 

“Ward!” a sharp voice called. My eyes flew open and I saw a young cop standing on the other side of the cell door. “Bail’s posted. You’re out of here.”

 

 

Chapter Twenty

 

It was a relief to step out of the cell and hear the guard slam the gate shut behind me. The Aztecs woke up, and when they saw I was being released, they stared at me and started making more of the same low yipping sounds in their throats.

 

“Fuck off,” I spat as I walked away. “I’m out of here, suckers.”

 

“Yes, Jimmy’s waiting for you in the depot,” the guard said. He was a young cop I hadn’t seen before, but he was looking at me like we were old friends.

 

“Do I know you?”

 

The cop shook his head. He looked slightly sheepish and I had to grin; being able to unsettle a cop, even a young one, was somehow satisfying to me.

 

“Not exactly,” he answered. “I know of you, though. I work with the deputy who pulled you in.”

 

I nodded, a sour taste creeping into my mouth. When I raised my arms over my head, I could smell dried blood and sweat.
Definitely need a shower before going to Sarah’s
, I thought to myself.
Need to freshen up for the lady
.

 

“Can we step in here for a minute?” The cop gestured to a small room. I eyed him warily.

 

“If this is a trick to get me to confess, it ain’t gonna happen,” I warned him. “I’m a free man until y’all call me into court.”

 

The cop shook his head. “It’s not a trick,” he said. “I just figured you’d want some privacy.”

 

My stomach plummeted as we stepped into the room. The cop flicked the light on; it flickered overhead dully, not as harsh as the other lights. There was a wooden table with two chairs and some potted plants in the corner. I could tell that it was by far the softest-looking room in the whole station.

 

“We normally put kids in here if they’re waiting for their parents,” the cop joked. I rolled my eyes and sat down hard in one of the chairs. The wood squeaked and scraped on the floor, making me wince.

 

“So what’s up?”

 

“I’m Deputy Johnson,” the young cop said. He stuck out his hand. His skin was pale white and clean; I could see veins running through his thin wrist. I growled and he almost pulled his hand away. I chuckled when I realized that I could snap him in half with little effort. “Nice to meet you, Blake.”

 

I scowled at him. “Drop the shit, man,” I said. “I’m tired, I want to get out of here.”

 

Johnson nodded. “I get that,” he said. “But we need to talk first. You want some coffee?”

 

I was about to refuse but the thought of hot coffee warmed my insides. I could almost feel the caffeine soothing my bruises. “Yeah,” I said. “Sure. Black.”

 

Johnson nodded. He got up and told me that he’d be right back. As soon as he was gone, I laid my head down on the desk and closed my eyes. As much fun as I’d had fantasizing about Sarah a few minutes prior, now I was so tired that I instantly fell asleep. My body started to get that floating sensation that you have when you’re in a falling dream, and I jerked awake with a rough start. Just as I came to, Johnson opened the door. He handed a mug—a real mug, none of that Styrofoam shit—filled to the brim with hot coffee. I held it in both hands and inhaled deeply, savoring the way it filled my senses. Already, I felt more awake.

 

‘Thanks,” I said, taking a swallow. The liquid was hot and it burned my tongue but I took another swallow all the same. Johnson blew on his mug and set it down. I watched as the steam curled into lazy spirals.

 

“So, Blake,” Johnson said, spreading his hands out over the table. He reached down to his side and picked up a folder. “I have to tell you some things before you leave today. I think your lawyer might have prepped you, but he probably didn’t tell you all of this.”

 

A shiver of fear ran down my spine but I kept my face neutral. After taking another swig of coffee, I looked at Johnson. “Okay,” I said plainly. “Shoot. What’s going on?”

 

“The fact is,” Johnson began with a sigh, “you’re looking at a pretty long prison sentence. I know that last night we could only get you for second degree assault, but combined with your other charges from the past few years, well, that’s enough to get a felony charge.”

 

“What?” I frowned and set my cup down on the table hard enough to make coffee slop out around the edges. “What the fuck, man? How is that even possible?”

 

Johnson looked at me warily. “Calm down,” he said. “I’m telling you this so you can stay out of trouble, not get yourself in another bad situation as soon as you’re gone. Do you understand?”

 

I nodded. “Whatever, man,” I said. “Just give it to me straight.”

 

“Well, the fact is you’d probably be fine, except a lot of the assault victims have wound up in the hospital,” Johnson said. He pulled out several sheets of papers and handed them to me; they were all old booking reports, mostly Aztecs but a couple from another rival MC, the City Diablitos. “And none of these guys have pressed charges against you, but there’s enough for the state to wind up with a pretty substantial case.”

 

I nodded again. “Right,” I said slowly. “So why get me now? Why not before? What’s the big fucking deal?”

 

Johnson slid the papers back to his side of the table and folded them into the envelope. “Here’s the thing,” he said. “We’ve been watching Devil’s Own for a long time, and we know that you guys have some pretty bad patterns of violence. And I know that y’all used to get away with that, but lately things have gotten really out of hand. I don’t want to send the wrong message to the community. It takes a lot to go after guys we used to work with, but I’m afraid that everything is starting to change.”

 

I blinked at him. “You sound like my lawyer,” I said slowly. “Are you telling me that you know I’m not really a bad dude, and you want to lock me up to send a message?”

 

Johnson’s gaze dropped. “No one wants to send you away,” he said evenly. I watched his heartbeat pulse on his neck and it occurred to me how easy it would be to kill him. I’d probably even be able to do it before someone knew what was happening inside the little room. Hell, I could
probably
do it and leave without anyone noticing. “But we’re being cautious, that’s all. If the violence doesn’t stop, there are going to be serious repercussions for everyone involved.”

 

I looked at him and narrowed my eyes. “So you’re saying I’m fine as long as I don’t get in another smash?”

 

Johnson sighed. “I’m not saying that, either,” he said. “After what happened last night, I’m not sure that you’ll be able to get away without serving any kind of time.”

 

Panic rose through me and I fought hard to keep it down. “So what now? I just go home and wait for you to pick me up again?”

 

Johnson rifled through the folder. He handed me a series of mug shots, all members of the MC. “We’re also watching these guys,” he said. “Your friends Jimmy and Red, we know what they’ve been up to. It’s not a good idea for your gang to keep running guns with this kind of pressure on you.”

 

I let out a brittle laugh. “So you’re hoping that I’ll leave here and just tell my club to quit business? And then let the Aztecs fuck us up and sell dope on your streets? Yeah, man, that sounds pretty good to me, too.”

 

Johnson’s face darkened and I could tell he was getting pissed. Instead of feeling irritated, I felt the urge to punch him return stronger than ever before. “That’s the opposite of what I’m saying,” he said slowly. “Just watch your fucking back, okay?” For the first time, I heard a hint of menace creep into his voice. “You don’t want to fuck with us, and you don’t want to keep trying to manage things yourselves.”

 

“Can I go?” I shot him a pointed look. “I need to talk to my club. What time is it?”

 

Johnson scowled. He checked his phone. “It’s a little after two in the morning,” he said. “You’d better wait until tomorrow. Blake, I beg you to take what I said into consideration. Help us help you, okay? We don’t wanna send you away for years and years. But if you and the club keep acting like this, I’m afraid we don’t have a choice.”

 

I got up from the table and pushed my chair back with a wooden squeak against the tiled floor. “Fine,” I snapped. “Just let me go, man. I’m fucking sick of being here.”

 

Johnson stood up and let me out of the tiny room without saying another word. Jimmy was waiting for me in the lobby, and I could feel him sizing up my wounds as we leaned in for a half-hug.

 

“Man, you’re looking pretty brutal!” Jimmy said with a long whistle. “They fucked you up real good!”

 

“What do you think, it was fucking three on one,” I said sourly. Jimmy laughed and clapped me on the back. Pain rang through my body but I grinned; it felt so good to be leaving the jail that I didn’t mind. “Thanks for grabbing me, man,” I added. “I appreciate it.”

 

“No sweat, brother,” Jimmy said. “You’d do the same for me. You have many times.”

 

We cracked up. Jimmy pushed open the doors to the police station and led me out into the cool, dark night. “Man, you goin’ home?” he asked. “You need a shower? You wanna hit the clubhouse?”

 

“Yeah, actually,” I said. Already the events of the previous night seemed like a dream. “My bike is there.”

 

Jimmy started his truck and the headlights bounced over the parking lot as we drove away. When the police station was a couple of miles behind us, I took a deep breath.

 

“It feels fuckin’ good to be outside,” I said, letting the air out of my lungs. “I was starting to feel pretty fuckin’ claustrophobic in there with those Aztec fuckers. Why the fuck did they show up tonight, anyway? Didn’t we have a vote? We should have all been at the club!”

 

“Abel’s sick,” Jimmy said solemnly. “I think he had a stroke, but he won’t go to the doctor. He’s been in bed all night, moaning and whining.”

 

I frowned. “He’s getting’ old, man,” I said carefully. “He should at least go to the fuckin’ hospital or something.”

 

Jimmy shook his head. “You know my old man,” he said. “He won’t take any answer that he didn’t come up with first. Besides, he’ll be alright in a day or two. He’s stronger than a fucking ox, you know?”

 

I nodded. “He’s a tough old fucker,” I agreed. “And seriously, fuck you guys for not calling me. If y’all had been there, we could have taken out those Aztec shitheads by ourselves. No need to involve the cops.”

 

Jimmy laughed. “I know,” he said. “But then you wouldn’t have that great shiner on your face.”

 

I pulled the mirror down from the ceiling of the cab and turned the light on. My face was so swollen that I barely recognized myself. My nose had been broken and it was swollen in colors I didn’t imagine existed in the human body. My lower lip was fat and swollen, plus it was split in two places. I could see a goose egg on my right temple, and when I touched it, I winced. My right cheek was swollen and I could tell that I’d have a black eye in the morning from all the blood pooling around my eyeball.

 

“Fuck, man,” I swore with a laugh. “I look fuckin’ awful!”

 

“Yeah, your girl isn’t gonna think much of you now,” Jimmy said with a laugh. “You ever find out what kind of trouble she was in?”

 

My mouth went dry; I vaguely remembered bragging about fucking Sarah to the other guys in the club, but now I wished I hadn’t said anything. I hoped that at least I hadn’t mentioned Roger; if they attacked him, I knew the cops would come straight for me. And then I was looking at ten to fifteen in the big house, alone, while Sarah married some douche and popped out his kids.

 

“Nah,” I lied. “She’s chilled out, though. She’s cool. Hey, is Red still looking for a secretary?”

 

“I think so,” Jimmy said. He rubbed his chin. “But you know he won’t hire anyone who doesn’t have huge tits,” he said with a laugh. “Red never changes.”

 

Anger boiled under my skin at the thought of Red leering at Sarah. She wouldn’t take the job if she were going to be subjected to harassment all day. “He better not lay a fucking hand on her,” I warned. “She’s mine. Do I have to make that clear?”

 

Jimmy laughed. “Hey, brother, it’s just looking,” he said. “There ain’t no harm in lookin’, right?”

 

“Whatever,” I muttered. “I never look at your old lady like that. He needs to keep his fuckin’ hands off of her. If she even wants to work for a degenerate like Red, anyway.”

Other books

Swallowing Darkness by Laurell K. Hamilton
Zac and Mia by A.J. Betts
Fields Of Gold by Marie Bostwick
Bound by Their Kisses by Marla Monroe
True Crime: Box Set by Lorrence Williams
Hell, Yeah by Carolyn Brown
Don't Call Me Hero by Eliza Lentzski