Force: Blacktop Sinners MC (19 page)

Chapter Thirty Three

The older man ran a hand through his long, greying beard. The guy who ran the junk yard in town, the place his bike had been towed to first after the crash, that guy reminded Derek a bit of someone from ZZ Top. He had that mix of Appalachian hick and who cares redneck attitude, but he was smart. This man knew who both Derek and Ron were with, had known enough to be as helpful as possible to enforcers from the Sinners and to keep his mouth shut otherwise.

Sometimes people in town weren’t smart enough for that side of things.

It was the reason that Derek had come to Jensen’s Garage. There were other places in town, including their own chop shop, but he figured the old guy would be able to help him find the right tail pipe replacements he still lacked.

“So, you still up for riding around on that thing, son? Looks like you’ve had everything wailing on you lately.”

“Sir---” he started, not even sure why he was polite for once.

It wasn’t his style, but he felt more like charming some deals out of people than just harassing them. It was usually a lot easier than people like Bones and Bullet realized. A little grease went a long damn way. Plus your knuckles tired out less that way.

“It’s C.J.,” he said.

“Fine, then C.J., I can’t rest yet, got a lot to do.”

“You look like someone used your face as a punching bag.”

“Kind of goes with the territory.”

He considered that. “Just saying that fixing up your bike should come a long and distant second to fixing up you, kid.”

“I guess that’s true, but I don’t have a choice in a lot of things. Besides,” he said, rubbing his chin. “These scratches ain’t nothing.”

“Yeah, but you’re wheezy every time you breathe. I bet your ribs aren’t doing stellar.”

“What do you care? It’s one less Sinner around if I bite it.”

C.J. shrugged as he gestured to him to follow through the stacks of spare parts gathered around. Steel and aluminum glittered under the sun throughout the yard. Derek had to close his eyes at the onslaught of glinting metal. “I don’t mind all gangs the same. The Death’s Head are worse. They steal from me constantly, have come and roughed my son up at the register. Your group ain’t like that. You keep to your territory and don’t rough up the locals for shits and giggles.”

“It’s not smart, and you can’t buy off every cop in town.”

“Or maybe you also don’t want hurt anyone you don’t have to.”

Derek laughed long and hard. “Old man, if you think I’m some kind of good guy because I’m smart and prefer the expedient over what makes a scene, then you are barking up the wrong damn tree.”

He considered that and stopped by a pile of tail pipes. “Pick three that you want and take the top contenders back to that chop shop of yours. You know there’s no charge. If you believe in greasing the wheels, then you know that I do too.”

Derek grinned at that and pulled out the metal he thought he’d need. “Still just a regular guy and, don’t kid yourself, in a fight I’d stab or shoot a guy just as soon as look at him, especially if my president’s life is on the line.”

“Then you should be worried. Even around town…Hell, even the damn college kids can tell that something is coming, and it ain’t good. I have a few friends around town too, a few people who talk a good game. You all have a leak or a mole or whatever else you want to call it.”

Derek balanced the tail pipes on his left hip and rubbed at his right rib with the other hand. “Oh, believe me, I know all of this, and I appreciate the concern, I do.”

“Good, because I want the Death’s Head out of this town, so I hope you win.”

“I intend to.”

“But it’s been obvious about the Sinners’ cracks for a while. Your ship around here hasn’t been as tight as it used to be. I bet that the mole’s been there far longer than any of you ever thought.”

“I think you’re right.”

“And I think that old men tell tales,” Ron said, glaring at both of them. “Can we talk?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “I think we covered everything.”

C.J. shrugged and headed back to his main office. “I know when I’m not wanted. Go get them, Derek, and I hope to see you scrambling around my junk yard again soon.”

Derek offered the other man a tight smile and a nod before rounding on Ron. “So you’re back to tell me not to be obsessed with Tess?”

“I want to say I’m sorry. I just worry about everything. Maybe sometimes sacrifices can be made.”

Derek narrowed his eyes and walked toward his truck with his pipes. “Then she’s expendable?”

“She’s a nurse. You’ve known her less than a week, and sweet butt is sweet butt.”

“I love her, man, and she feels like home, like I have a place I belong since the first time in maybe ever.”

Ron frowned and shove his hands in his jeans’ pockets. “Well, I’m sorry that you’ve felt so alone all these years. I know there are certain things I won’t do for you man, but do you really think that everything we’ve been through for almost twenty years means nothing? Who taught you to make your first shiv in juvie? Who found the Sinners for us to join? Who’s had your back in every damn fight since forever? So I’m not a home too?”

Derek frowned and at least had the decency to drop his eyes to the dirt. “I didn’t mean it like I don’t care. You’re my brother, blood or not. We’ve been all we ever had, and I get that, but there’s something with Tess too, and I can’t let her be hurt. Hell, I wouldn’t leave a dog to Trent Lachlan, you think I’m going to leave the woman I love.”

“After a week.”

“Yeah, and when I save her, then a lot of things are going to change. I’ve definitely found my old lady, and I hoped that you’d understand that.”

Ron sighed. “I don’t think running in there like the damn cavalry is smart. But there’s a meeting. It’s why I came to get you. I…Spike got a letter.”

“What kind?”

“The kind Trent sends when he wants to make a statement.”

And Derek hoped it was his imagination that he was shivering.

***

The paper was crusted with blood now gone brown with the time it had taken to deliver it. He wanted to vomit. Her blood.
Tess’s
blood. The woman he loved had already been cut into by a psycho like Trent. There wasn’t much written on the paper before him. Just the demand for the full board to show up at their main meth warehouse toward the college side of town at midnight on Wednesday.

There was no “or else.”

The fact that the note was covered in her blood said everything for it.

Well, let it never be said that Trent lacked style.

Derek shoved the paper down on the table. “Then we go in. We already were planning on it.”

Ron was pacing behind him. “They already knew we’d come and now they know the time and place? Spike, with all due respect, man, that’s nuts!”

Smitty eyed both him and Ron. “We agreed to go in. This doesn’t change the idea, just that we need to think harder on how not to lose the advantage.”

The rest of the board grumbled. Bones shook his head and took off his sunglasses. “We already have a traitor we can’t find, and they know we’re coming. How exactly can we get the upper hand?”

Bullet nodded. “This is a suicide run. We have the blade. Problem’s over.”

“It ain’t over,” Spike replied, his tone icy. It was low and menacing, and even in this room of other tough men, the assorted muscle of the toughest gang in North Carolina, people grew quiet and respected their president. He stood then and ran a hand through his jet black hair. His blue eyes appraised them all with calm, and he looked at all the assembled officers before him. “They’ve fucked with us too many times. They’re
still
fucking with us. This ends and we go in like they want, but we’ll settle out the special exceptions on the how. They won’t know what hit it.”

“But the rat,” Bones objected, punching one fist against the flat of his other hand. “I want the rat now. We can’t afford to have him squealing to the DHC.”

“Oh, we’ll get him,” Spike promised, his voice a low growl of anger. “We will get that bastard and string him up for ourselves, but taking Trent down, taking
all
of them down for trying to get me killed to start and running us ragged since, is the priority. Now, meeting dismissed. Get your favorite weapons in order and your shit together. We go in in two days.”

Everyone cleared then but him, Ron, Smitty, and Spike. Ron was still shaking his head. “We’re going into a slaughter.”

“It’s only a slaughter if we’re dumb. Smitty, Grinder and I have a plan, and we know what it is.”

Derek blinked. That was certainly news to him. He would say they more had a pre-plan. As far as Derek was concerned, at least Smitty, Spike, and he were smart enough to do the main plotting without anyone else, to keep their secret plans and weapons close to the vest. The only problem was that he hadn’t figured out what their key advantage was going to be.

“Fine, but I just want my objections heard. I love this club, and I don’t want us killed.”

“Then have more confidence, Ron,” Smitty snapped, his black eyes narrowing back at him. “You’re dismissed.”

“I can stay and plan.”

Spike loomed over Derek’s friend and fellow enforcer. “The inner circle right now is more like an inner triangle, and you don’t have clearance.”

Ron shook his head and rushed out. “Fine, but I warned all of you.”

“Then don’t be such a chicken shit,” Derek groused, still not sure where they stood.

He understood that until they figured out the key to all of this, walking directly into a trap was suicide, and he knew that he hurt the hell out of his friend by talking about Tess as his home. It was no less true and was how he felt. Frankly, he wasn’t sure if his and Ron’s relationship would ever be the same again. Of course, if his so-called best friend was so willing to throw Tess to the wolves, then maybe he wasn’t truly his friend anymore.

What a damn depressing thought.

“We still need a plan, and thinking about one ain’t having it,” Smitty said as the door slammed shut.

Derek nodded and was about to express his own frustration when inspiration finally struck him, like lightning out of the blue. “Wait, I know exactly where to go. Give me twenty-four hours, and I’ll get us the element of surprise back.”

Spike shook his hand. “Part of this went to hell because I fell to the pressure to stop trusting you, despite all logic. Go and get them, Grinder.”

Chapter Thirty Four

“Mommy! I need the present now!”

Cindy’s hair looked cuter than usual in her soft curls. She had a bright pink party dress on, complete with the seemingly prerequisite ruffles and the pinafore. It was definitely and indulgence to buy it, but Tess couldn’t resist something that cute and retro. Her daughter wasn’t yet three. She would have plenty of time to protest clothes and pick her own tastes later. Right now for her cousin’s fifth birthday party, Cindy was going to go as girly as possible. Maybe, and this was a little petty, but just maybe she wanted to show up Sarah’s girl, Tina. Yes, Tina was the birthday girl and an adorable redhead, but there was only one girl out there that owned Grandma and Grandpa’s hearts quite so deeply, and it was Cindy Allanson.

Tess smiled and handed her the brightly wrapped board game. She wasn’t a huge fan of the
My Little Pony
craze sweeping back again, and that new show was so weird. Still, it was all that her niece, Tina, talked about, so the board game for the pony friends and matching paper was a no-brainer on the gift front.

Cindy’s greedy hands took it, and she almost fell over before she adjusted to the heavier bulk in her arms. “See, now I’m ready to go!”

“Who’s going where now?” Derek asked, coming down the stairs.

Tess had to smile at him. There weren’t many men who lived such dual lives but made it seem so seamless. He’d always be rough and tumble, with the barbed wire tattoos around his biceps as well as the beard and his cut from the club. But it was at night that he belonged to the motorcycle gang, the thing in the shadows he did before he came home to her and their daughter in the mornings.

There was something hysterical in the idea of “Grinder,” the scariest enforcer in the state, being a carpool father and sitting through parent-teacher conferences. Even if it was ridiculous, it was true. He’d bent enough in his life to have a secluded oasis, this space where he was a perfect family man with her. Tess had bent enough to accept that she loved a man who was apart from the law. She might uphold it and help others at the hospital, but that wasn’t who Derek was, and to be happy, she’d accepted it.

As she watched him hug their daughter close and kiss the top of Cindy’s head, her heart fluttered. It was the right choice. She’d make it a million times over and always be glad that she’d taken her brother’s advice, even if it had been a long time coming. Sometimes bending, changing your ways, was the only choice.

What good was a moral high ground if it left you lonely as hell?

There was a fierce horn honk outside, and Cindy squealed, then started running for the door. “Grandpa’s here!”

“Cindy Louisa, you need to walk to the door,” Derek said, his tone low and chiding.

She nodded and walked out to the door, struggling with the knob a little since her hands were weighed down with the board. A few minutes later, a quick text let Tess know that she was buckled and already on her way. She just hoped her dad had texted the pick-up confirmation
before
he started driving. He was so bad about that; it was the actual downside to bringing him into the 21
st
century.

Derek grinned and held out his arms. She slipped into them and felt him squeeze her tightly before kissing her and teasing her tongue with his own. “So we have the house all to ourselves for a weekend. Your mom already agreed to take her for an extended sleepover with Tina.”

Tess grinned up at him and licked her lips. “You’re saying that we have over twenty-four hours and many rooms to enjoy?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying, blondie, so what would you like to do from here?”

She grinned and, reaching down, rubbed at his length through the fabric of his jeans. He was hard so fast then, and she knew it had been far too long. Sometimes things got away from them in the hustle of domestic life. She had her shifts, he had his Sinners’ duties, and they both had a very active toddler who demanded their full attention. Still, even after all these years together, he responded so readily to her touch, and that left her wet and wanting already.

“I want you now,” she purred, making her voice as low and inviting as she could.

He grinned and quickly unzipped himself. “All you had to do was ask.”

Derek rushed to pick her up. She stepped back and rolled her eyes at his grumbling disapproval. “Chill it, Casanova. I just need to do this!” she insisted, slipping off her panties, and hiking up her flowing A-line skirt. “Now you can pick me up.”

He grinned and complied. At first she was held up by his arms as she wrapped her legs around his waist. She could feel his erection teasing her slit, the head of his cock teasing the wet lips of her labia. She moaned and the heat was flaring through her.

“I need you to fill me, Grinder, please.”

“I’ll do anything you want, darling,” he promised, before shoving his length deep inside her.

It had been a while, but they’d been together for so long that her channel easily expanded to fit him in. In fact, she relished the sensation of it, of feeling his girth slide deeply inside of her. He was almost scorching, and she mewled again and licked at his throat, grazing over his pulse point first before moving her way up his neck and then to his chin, scraping her teeth over the beard there before she finally came to his left ear lobe. She clenched it between her teeth and yanked with a little force.

He swore and buckled under her.

Then he began to pound into her. His rhythm was frantic, and she could feel his balls slap against her with the force of his thrusts. She gripped his waist tightly with her legs and rode him hard, her back along the wall and her inner muscles clenching around him. She could feel the heat and the intensity of the sparks building over her, flowing over her nerve endings. As the intensity built between them, she felt her skin light up with fire, and it raised to inferno levels when his fingers reached down to play with her clitoris, adding tiny flicks to get her to come.

And come she did, screaming loudly and spasming over him.

This was rare for them, but maybe it was just the time in between everything. He came then too, shooting his semen deep inside her, pounding into her so hard that she felt some of his seed drip back down her leg as well. Idly, she hoped that maybe this would lead to more. She’d stopped taking the pill a couple months ago at his request, but they hadn’t been trying in earnest yet. Still, maybe in nine months Cindy would have a little sister.

She had to smile at such a heartwarming thought.

Leaning down she kissed his lips.

“That good then, blondie?”

“That was amazing,” she said.

“I aim to please.”

“And you do.”

***

Tess woke up with Derek’s name on her lips. It took her a minute to recognize the Spartan surroundings about her, the grey walls and the smeared, bleary windows that barely let moonlight into the damp basement she’d been shoved into. She rolled over on her small cot, and the springs beneath her squeaked loudly and echoed throughout the cavernous room she’d been shoved into.

Right, there was no happy home with her own daughter or a happy life with Derek.

In the moonlight, in
reality,
Tess still wasn’t sure that she could ever commit to living a life with a man who broke the law at night, who hurt people. Although, if Derek hurt Trent, then she wouldn’t hold that against him. That rat bastard deserved to bleed.

A lot.

Sitting up on her cot, she looked up at the full, rounded moon. Tears streaked down her cheeks, and she pulled her knees up to her chest. When she spoke, her voice sounded wounded and small, as if she were still a child herself. “I just want to go home.”

But she was terrified at the same time. It wasn’t that Derek and the Sinners wouldn’t come for her; they would. Tess was terrified that when they did, they’d be slaughtered. She was about to lose Derek, and it was her fault. Her fault for slowing for the road block to begin with, her fault for not finding an escape route yet, and her fault for falling for him. That last thing she wanted after saving his life in the hospital and even after seeing the thugs beat him on the road was to watch Derek die.

“Please,” she said, doing something she hadn’t done in five years. “Jason, if you can hear me, watch over Derek, keep him safe. Please.”

With that, she pulled out the St. Christopher medal and stroked it with her fingers. Maybe Jas or God or whoever could hear her prayers tonight. As long as Derek survived, she didn’t care, just make sure that so many people didn’t die merely to save her life. She didn’t deserve that, couldn’t live with that kind of guilt, knowing the price at which she existed.

“Jas, I love you. Help me.”