Defiance (17 page)

Chapter Seventeen

After living without electricity for the first four months after the Chaos, Tru had learned to estimate time. After a while, she realized she could internalize rhythms, didn’t need clocks or watches to figure out day or night.

“It’s almost four in the afternoon,” she said when Caspar walked into his room. “Maybe three fifty-seven.”

He stared at her like she was crazy. He wore a short-sleeved shirt that stretched tight across his chest, with only his cut over it, despite the fact that it was colder than usual outside. The temperature couldn’t stabilize and she’d heard on the radio that more storms rocked the east coast that morning. “Are we on lockdown because of the storms yet?”

“Storms the least of your concerns, yeah?”

The blanket dropped from her shoulders when she sat up. He studied her, lying in his bed, then issued a quiet command. “Explain why the fuckin’ police are here with your license.”

“Are they gone?”

He took a deep breath and if fire shot from his nose, she wouldn’t have been surprised. “Givin’ you a chance here, Tru, before I lose it. Take advantage.”

She stood then, asking, “Please...did they leave? I need to know if they’re still up there.”

He softened a little. “For now. They’ll be back.”

“I was hoping you scared them away.”

“They say you’re wanted for murder. You murder a cop, Tru?”

“I don’t know.”

Caspar stared at the scar on her chest and back up to her face. “You were with Paddy’s MC for a while.”

“Yes.”

“Because of the medicine.”

“Yes.”

“But that’s not the only reason.” Caspar backed her against the wall and he was probably the only man she’d ever let do that. Her head fit right underneath his shelf of weaponry. “What did the cop do to you?”

She opened her mouth to answer. To her horror, a sob escaped that echoed around her, mocking her failure. Caspar pulled her close, her face pressed into his soft T-shirt. Being this close to him,
this
was going home.

“I’ll take care of it, Tru.”

She pushed him away. “You keep saying that. You always say that.”

“And I always do take care of it,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Yes. But you never take care of me.”

“You keep pushing your luck, woman.” He yanked her close. This time, the hold on her wasn’t gentle, but it didn’t hurt her either. It was a hold meant to let her know he was done screwing around. A hold that immobilized her against the mattress, his body pressed to hers.

“Get off me,” she told him.

He shook his head, those icy eyes never leaving hers. She knew for sure that he saw right through her, always had. It scared her more than warmed her at the moment. “You hit him. Shot him. Stabbed him. And then you ran, so you have no clue if the cop died or not. Which, for the record, he did. The cops who came here today are the guy’s brother and his partner. I’m guessin’ he tried to take something that didn’t belong to him. Stop me if I’m gettin’ it wrong, Tru.” His eyes blazed, his voice a low, dangerous slide designed to melt the steel in her spine. “Did Paddy know about this?”

She wished she could answer differently. “Padraic knew. His top two Enforcers and Kian did too.”

Caspar was off her in seconds, cursing, and she sat up and backed away as he picked up a small table and slammed it against the wall. The wood shattered around him. He stared down at it and for several long seconds, she was sure he’d take the room apart.

Finally, he turned to her, his voice strangled. “Stay in here until I figure out what the fuck I’m gonna do with you.”

“I deserve a say.”

He turned. Stared.

“I deserve a say,” she repeated. “You know that.”

“Really? You chose me. You. Chose. Me. I’ll decide what the fuck you deserve for lying to me. Hear?”

He turned, was half out the door before she managed, “I can’t stay down here.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

“Caspar—”

He turned, yanked something out of his pocket. When he put it down on the night table next to her, she saw it was her pill bottle. “Get your shit together. You’re safe. Up there, you’re vulnerable. Gotta hate that more than underground.”

Right now, she hated him more than anything. “You’re so angry with me.”

“Not angry with you. Angry at myself.”

“Why?”

“Christ, you were almost...you didn’t tell me before I...”

“Nothing happened.”

“
Something
goddamned happened, Tru. The way you looked...fuck.” His temper roiled, and he knocked over a table with an open palm. It smashed against the wall with a satisfying thud. “You let me. You let me treat you like...”

“I liked it. I could’ve stopped it. I knew it would’ve taken one word, Cas, and you would’ve walked away.”

“Not the point, Tru. I was erasing the past, but you weren’t. It was still between us. Still is.”

“Then I’ll make it go away,” she told him, unable to shake how ironic it was that a lawman pushed her toward an outlaw MC. “At first, I was getting my pills from the clinic, but they ran out. Then I found a contact of Padraic’s. There was a small charter of the Kill Devils who moved from upstate New York down to Jersey after the Chaos. From there, Padraic reeled me in,” she said. “I didn’t know the guy knew who I was. I really didn’t.”

“But he did,” Caspar said.

“Yeah, he did.”

Can’t keep givin’ you somethin’ for nothin’.
Paddy wants you to call him.

She’d refused. “There was this cop who patrolled the neighborhood—he was friendly. Helpful. I thought maybe he’d be able to tell me about another clinic. He came over one night and told me he had something for me. A bottle of my pills. But there were strings attached, and I was unwilling. So I...” She closed her eyes, shook her head. “Don’t make me talk about it.”

Caspar cursed. “Did what you had to. That’s all I need to know.”

“Afterward, I panicked. Ran. Called the number Padraic’s guy gave me. I relented for the protection, and Padraic’s guy drove me out of Jersey.”

“Did you ask them to take you back to Defiance?”

Once she’d discovered Hugh was still alive, no. “Padraic offered to take me back to Hugh. Knew he’d been looking for me.”

“By refusing, you gave him more ammunition.”

She’d known. He’d trapped her good. And mentioning Caspar would’ve put Caspar in danger, so she hadn’t alluded to that at all.

She’d listened well to Padraic. When she first heard Caspar’s name, she’d had to swallow a sob of relief. When she’d heard Hugh was still alive too, she’d known her fate rested in Padraic’s hands for a while.

“Protectin’ me,” he said, like he understood.

She nodded. “It wasn’t terrible. I wasn’t with the main MC most of the time—just by myself or with Paddy and a few of his most trusted crew.”

She wasn’t lying—she’d been shielded from most of the vulgar violence at the Kill Devils’ North Carolina compound.

“Keep goin’,” he encouraged and she did. Told him about how Padraic hadn’t held his MC on a tight leash. There’d been a lot of drug abuse. It had always been so dark there. She’d spent a lot of time holed up, reading by candlelight. There wasn’t much for her to do at all. No one really spoke to her. She was “Paddy’s toy” —she heard that a lot—and she was Defiance.

That last part made Caspar’s fists tighten, but he didn’t say anything.

A year of wasted time. She’d been scared and alone. Some of the days she wasn’t sure she’d make it through.

She trained. Boxed. Ran the track. She knew what prisoners felt like, because she’d been in one of her own making. She got stronger, mentally and physically.

Padraic thought it was all cute. Showed her weaponry and knife throwing. Took her on drives to see the landscape, told her how things had changed.

He’d been courting her. Showing her what she could have. Gradually, things improved.

At first, there were storms at least several times a month. In North Carolina, they were worse than they’d been in Jersey. Padraic would drug her, bring her to the large underground tubes they all shared until it passed. Because they couldn’t afford to lose the princess.

After all of this spilled out, his expression was softer, even though he was still angry. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was so scared. I didn’t want to think about it. I wanted it to go away. Running got me in trouble...I wanted to show you I was strong, instead.”

She was sobbing. Caspar’s arms went around her. “Baby, think I didn’t know that? Always did. Don’t have shit to prove.”

“Yes, I do. I want to. I wanted everyone to know that it was always you for me.”

“Don’t give a shit what everyone knows. All that matters is me. I know. And I know, Tru.” His eyes blazed. “You’re going to have to let me in.”

“I could say the same exact thing to you,” she said and his eyes glittered with anger. He backed her against the bed and pressed her back to the mattress. Her legs dangled uncomfortably and her only recourse was to wrap her legs around his waist.

His body pinned hers. She’d pushed it too far. Again.

“You...need...to cut. The. Shit.”

“You can’t expect me to tell you all my secrets when I don’t know any of yours.”

He continued to stare at her, waiting her out, waiting for her to stand down.

“Kiss me, dammit.”

He shook his head wordlessly. She reached up, put a hand around the back of his neck.

It was like trying to move a mountain. She pulled herself up, kissed him, willing him to kiss her back. “Tell me, Caspar. Tell me your shit, your deepest, darkest secrets. Or do you want me to tell the one I know about you?” she asked and he stiffened. “That’s right. I know one and it’s something I’ve known since I was goddamned six years old. And no one knows. No one but you.”

She’d started sleeping with Silas in an attempt to forget Caspar, in the vain hope that another man could distract her permanently from the man she’d been in love with since she was six years old.

Caspar had looked like an angel to her when she’d first seen him.

His face had been perfect one minute and the next, his cheek was covered with blood and his face was never perfect again. But he still was like an angel to her—an avenging angel.

“You probably don’t remember me watching you,” she said.

“I clocked you the second I walked into this place, Tru. And I wish to hell I hadn’t.”

“You were bleeding,” she whispered. “One minute, you were fine. Looking at Lance and then you were bleeding.”

“You’re always involved in shit you shouldn’t be involved in.”

“You did it to yourself,” she told him. “You let everyone think it’s Lance who scarred you but you cut your own face.”

“Want a medal for knowing shit you’re not supposed to know?”

“Why scar yourself?”

“I wanted to show him that there was nothing he could do to me, mark me with, that I couldn’t handle.”

Lance had been stunned. A grudging respect had started then. “All those people who fucked with me? Didn’t give a shit about me, didn’t believe in me? They can go fuck themselves. Don’t have a fuck to give them anymore. What I care about is the woman who cares about me. The men who care about me. Gonna waste my time with dumbfucks? Got too much else to do.”

“If I can’t run, neither can you.”

“I’m not runnin’. Never have.”

“Bullshit. You weren’t coming back to Defiance. At least not when you dropped me off. You told me that—do you think I’ve forgotten? I don’t forget anything you do or say, Caspar. So you came back. So did I. And now you’re trying to push me off again. We’ve got history—I know you, better than you think I do. I spent time studying you. So if you think I scare that easily from you, you’re sadly mistaken.”

“You need to get the fuck outta my way.”

“No.”

“Pick you up, move you. You won’t like that.”

“You know what I like, Cas. Always have. Give me what you’ve got,” she whispered. “I can take it. Give me everything.”

He froze above her for a long second, his eyes that icy blue. His hands tightened on her biceps for a long moment, and then his hold loosened, but only slightly, and he continued to stare down at her like he didn’t know her.

But he did.

“Jesus Christ, Tru...what you doin’ to me?”

“Just what you wanted. Giving you everything.”

He inhaled again.

“Come on, Cas. Let me help you. Give me everything you’ve got.”

“Fuckin’ surprise a minute,” he muttered.

“Dreamed about you every night,” she admitted.

“What about?”

“You. Inside of me. God, Cas, please...”

He let the
Cas
slide by. Looked lazy and dangerous and pleased. Slid a hand up her shirt. Cupped her breast. Squeezed a nipple, then rolled it, until she was begging him to do more.

Her shirt was off, his mouth on her breasts. She was arching up against his leg, because he turned her on more every single time she was with him.

Her secrets were out. He knew. And he was still taking care of her.

“Gonna fuck away memories of anyone else. Tried to do it the night you left—wanted to imprint myself on you.”

“You did.”

“But tonight...this isn’t about the bond. That comes later. This night here is my erasing all the goddamned past. Fucking it out of you.”

Out of both of them. He bent to spread rough kisses on her jawline, moved down to her neck. Then he nipped her, sucked hard.

Marked her.

She loved that. “More.”

“Can’t get enough of you,” he growled. “Never want to.”

She didn’t argue. Found her legs spread, his mouth between her legs, against the thin fabric of her panties. He tore them away and then there was nothing between his mouth and her. And she was coming, with just a few moves of his tongue in her, coming hard and fast. But he wouldn’t let her up. Parked himself there until she came again, her hands in his hair, her body trembling. Until he drove inside of her, filling her...

Until he was the absolute only thing on her mind. Him—not secrets or the MC. Just Cas.

Mathias

I’d parked the van in a well-hidden spot behind the lot full of debris next to the bar, remained in the tree, sniper-style so I could watch the comings and goings of the cops.

Ten minutes after they walked in, Lance pulled up.

Lance. The man glanced at the cop car and normally, any Defiance member saw a black and white, they’re not going to go in and hang with them—I didn’t know much but I knew that.

Lance walked right in and ten minutes later, he was still inside. I waved Bish off when he got there, using a mirror against the metal on the roof of the bar. He stopped, looked at his watch and walked off like he’d forgotten something.

Hopefully, there wasn’t someone watching out for Lance as well. I glanced around but didn’t see anyone. Usually my senses would’ve tipped me off.

Didn’t take a genius to put the pieces together. Kian plus Lance equaled cops showing up to hurt Tru.

The real question was, did Lance go to Kian first, or was it the other way around?

In the long run, it didn’t really matter, because Lance obviously did nothing to stop it. Or maybe he’d used this as blackmail.

Minutes later, Bish was next to me, on another sturdy branch looking down at the bar’s entrance. “Dude, this is fucked.”

How’s Tru?

He shrugged. “Not good. Caspar was breaking shit after he talked to her.”

Women bring that shit out in men.

“I think the dead cop raped her.”

It always amazed me that the culture of the MCs allowed their women to be raped by members, but God forbid an outsider perpetrated violence against what they considered their possession. When I told this to Bish, he said, “To an MC, she’s property.”

I
don’t think Tru’s ever going to accept that.

“S’why I like her.”

We both went silent when we saw Lance leaving the bar. He looked around before he got onto his Harley, an old silver model he’d probably had since he’d left the Navy.
Surprised he came alone.
That shit’s dangerous.

“Because of us?”

Only part of it.
You still going in?

The cops hadn’t seen Bish, so he was the natural one to send inside to play informant. I waited a few minutes and then I went through the cruiser, but they’d taken their intel inside with them. I was able to tap into their radio—calls from Jersey. Nothing in this area.

Half an hour later, Bish got into the van.

What the fuck—was ready to come in after you.

“Had a change of plan,” Bish said, reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out Tru’s license and a motel room key. “Betcha her bag and anything else is back there.”

I didn’t wait, headed out the back road.
How long they gonna be there?

“Added a little something to their drinks. They were stumbling, bartender was telling them they needed to hang out for a while and eat something.”

Half an hour later, we were at the Manderly, which was also where the Kill Devils were staying. But we hadn’t counted on several of them being in the cops’ room. Whether they were there to check on their progress or functioning as their bodyguards didn’t matter.

Ten minutes later, Tru’s bag, the cops’ weapons and the Kill Devils themselves were in the back of the van with us, driving back into Defiance.

“From the military to this shit,” Bish was muttering, but he was happy he’d gotten to fight. I’d let him take three of the four Kill Devils to get that aggression out.

Actually thinking of suggesting you and Roan for the next fight.

“I’ll fucking kill him and you know it.”

Why do you think I mentioned it?

* * *

Four men, dragged in by me and Bish, all with the Devils’ mark on their backs—a Devil’s trap Paddy’s boys used as their calling card, Caspar told us. The Devil’s trap was supposed to trap evil, but they’d turned it around and put their spin on it.

I watched Caspar studied the tattoos after Rebel stripped them of their shirts, and I could tell Bish was chomping at the bit to get in more blows. Now they were kneeling on the cold concrete floor of the basement in the old warehouse. There were chains around their necks that stretched to the ceiling.

“Kian send you?” Caspar demanded of them.

None of them looked up, but the one farthest to the right murmured something. Probably because the fourth lay next to him, throat slit and bleeding out like the fucking pig he was.

Caspar still held the bloody knife as he bent down to listen.

“Kian, yeah.”

“Why?”

“Said you’d know.”

“Sent you on a suicide mission.”

“Yeah.”

“And you were stupid enough to go.” He turned to us and mouthed, “
You and Bish take them and drop them by the highway.
Take the dead one too.
”

He glanced at Rebel, who’d been watching. Rebel frowned. “
Let them go?
” he mouthed back.

Caspar nodded. “Make sure Lance knows it, too.”