Fury: Book 2 in the Vengeance MC series (11 page)

A growl escapes his throat when he rasps,

“Six days. That’s my final offer, Ave. And don’t think for a fucking second I’m leaving this room without tasting those sweet lips again.”

That does it. Huffing out my frustration, I snap,

“A week, and no less. And will you give it up about the kiss. It’s not going to happen, big guy.”

I should have known he’d take that as a challenge, but like everything else when Fury’s around, my brain turns to mush.

“Oh, but it is,” he says grinning wolfishly at me.

Fury doesn’t waste another moment talking. Instead, he crushes his mouth to mine in a soul-searing kiss that I won’t soon forget.

It’s all lips and tongues as he moves his mouth sensuously across mine, coaxing it to open for him. And like the brazen hussy I am, I do. Stroking his tongue with mine, I taste, nip, and devour him. Fury countering with bold strokes of his own.

When we’re both panting, gasping for breath, Fury lifts his head and locks his eyes with mine. The sky-blue color I love so much is darker, hazy with passion, and I have to admit, it’s a good look on him.

Gently brushing the pad of his thumb across the apple of my cheek, Fury's voice is rich and deep, rumbling in his chest as he says,

“Seven days and I’m knocking on your front door, Avery. Don’t bother trying to hide from me either because if I have to find you, I’m going to spank your gorgeous ass red.”

*****

Hours after Fury left, Blaine and I are relaxing on the couch watching re-runs of House when she asks,

“What are you going to do, Avery?”

Distractedly, I mutter,

“About what? The fact that Neanderthal man is a demanding jerk off, or how quickly I can change my identity, have facial reconstruction surgery, and flee the country?”

An M&M flies past me, narrowly missing my eye, landing on the cushion beside me. Picking it up and popping it in my mouth, I grin at her.

“You’re such a pain in the ass sometimes. What I meant was; what are you going to do a week from now when he comes back? You have to know he’s going to. Men like him don’t give up, Avery. They keep coming, knocking down your defenses until they wrap themselves around you so that you can never shake them loose. Pick any of our parents as an example. Do you think your Dad would give up on your Mom if she decided to hold a grudge against him? Hell no. He’d batter her walls down until they were rubble, and make her change her mind. No if’s and’s or but’s about it,” she huffs dramatically.

“You, oh wise one speak the truth, but that doesn’t take into account the fact that I have something they don’t.”

“And what pray tell is that, oh naïve one?” Blaine grins back at me, crossing her legs underneath her.

“A secret weapon of course,” I reply smugly.

“Just saying; there is never an excuse to use nukes to win a sword fight. I know you, and I know that grin. You’re up to something, or you wouldn’t have given in and negotiated with him in the first place.”

And how right she is. Blaine knows me too well.

“Look, the way I see it, I can’t overpower him, I can’t shoot him, and I can’t convince him he’s wasting his time. The only thing I can do is use what I have at my disposal and that is, Bella,” I say giving her my best evil smile.

Throwing her hands up in the air, admitting defeat, Blaine scoffs,

“Oh, he’s going to kick your ass if you let her loose on him. She’s worse than a bad case of crabs. He’ll never get rid of her.” Twisting so that she’s facing me head on, Blaine warns, “Be one hundred percent sure of this, Avery because if you let the Kraken loose, you’ll never be able to control the outcome.”

Honestly, how does she expect me to take her seriously when she says shit like that?

Laughing at her apt description of Bella’s temper, I reply,

“He’s not leaving me with much of a choice, B. Either I wait with bated breath by the door a week from now, knowing full well the only acceptable response from me is my forgiveness. Or, I engage Bella and tell her to do her worst. He has it coming anyway. She’s been dying to give Fury a piece of her mind since he rode back into town this morning. He’s just lucky I held her back. Consider this his belated welcome home gift from me to him.”

“Oh, boy,” Blaine mumbles. “I do not see good things, chicky. Not at all.”

I don’t either, but a girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do. Let the games begin.  

- Fury’s secret thoughts

Three days, fifteen hours, and thirty-seven minutes and it feels like it’s been a lifetime since I left Avery’s apartment last Friday.

When I showed up, I hadn’t intended on leaving without explaining myself well enough to earn her forgiveness, but it didn’t work out that way. I definitely didn’t expect our conversation to end in negotiations followed by the single best kiss I’ve ever experienced either. But when I looked into her gorgeous green eyes full of desperation and anxiousness, I folded like a deck of cards and gave her a reprieve. Albeit a short one, but it was a reprieve nevertheless – something I’ve never given to anyone else.

From the second my boot crossed the threshold at the clubhouse to now, it feels like every brother, old lady, and club whore has wanted a minute of my time.

Welcome home drinks that night turned into an alcohol-fueled party, which ran over into the early hours of Saturday morning, and resumed later that afternoon for anyone who’d missed out on the first go around. Not before we were all awakened for church by Beth banging a couple of pots together to get our asses up, mind you.

“Take a seat brothers. Let’s get this shit done so I can convince my old lady to let me get another few hours of shut eye before tonight,” Boss grumbles over the rim of his coffee cup.

Murmurs of agreement sound around the room before, Diesel groans,

“Why the hell did you have to schedule this shit for so early anyway? We don’t have anything pressing to go over.”

“How the fuck would you know?” Gage barks. “You’re never fucking here to know what’s going on.”

Diesel goes to reply, but Boss bangs the gavel demanding,

“Shut the fuck up the both of you. My head is pounding, I’ve got the mother of all hang over’s and the last thing I need is you two bitching at each other like little girls.” Turning to Diesel, he adds, “He’s not wrong, though. You and I need to have words after this is done, so hang back, yeah?”

This has been a long time coming, and to be honest, I’m surprised Boss hasn’t spoken up about Diesel’s a
s
lmost complete desertion earlier. Put it this way; I’d hate to be in his shoes when Boss reams him a new asshole later. Deserving or not, our Prez isn’t known for handling situations with tact.

“Right, before we get on to new business, anyone have anything to add in regards to the plans I submitted during
s
last meeting for the renovation to the motel?”

Over a round of drinks at the bar last night, Cash brought me up to speed on the clubs’ newest acquisition. It wasn’t something I would have voted ‘aye’ to, but at the end of the day, if it makes us money and I’m not expected to work that project, I’m not entirely opposed to it.

“Went over the figures again,” Cash pipes up. “Far as I can see, it isn’t going to eat into more than three months’ worth of profits from the new garage in Boulder, so if we’re all agreed, I’ll have the crew start work on Monday.”

Cash was given the position as Vengeance’s treasurer four years after receiving his full patch – going on ten years now. He does a damn good job too.

After his and Jump’s Mom had died of a suspicious drug overdose just before he turned seventeen, Cash worked hard to keep him and his brother together, and out of the foster care system.

Taking odd jobs, living on the bare essentials since he never knew where their next meal was coming from, Cash learned how to make every dollar count. I suppose that’s why he’s so fucking good at what he does. Or, it could be because the man has a gift for numbers. Either way, I can’t see anyone stepping up to take over from him anytime soon.

“Anyone have any objections to that?” Boss asks. No one says a word, myself included, so Boss brings the gavel done proclaiming, “Good. Tell the crew we hired to make a start on it and get back to us by the end of the week as to what their finish date is.”

“On it,” Cash nods taking a sip of his beer.

He’s the only man I know who can drink like a fish the night before, and still stomach the taste of alcohol the next morning. He says it’s ‘the hair of the dog’ or some shit, but as far as I’m concerned, he’s just straight up asking for liver failure by the age of fifty.

“I’ve got a few things we need to go over, but before I do, does anyone have anything they need to bring to the table?” Boss asks opening the floor to the rest of us.

Gage tips his head to indicate he has something to share, going on to say,

“Got the new shipment of M9’s in on Thursday, so anyone who isn’t proficient with one needs to make time to fire off a few rounds.”

“Fucking sweet,” Jump chimes in. “I’ve been hanging out to get my hands on one of them. How’s tomorrow suit you?”

“I don’t have plans, so you’re on. Anyone else joining?” Gage offers the room.

I raise my hand along with a few others, so we plan to meet up at the clubs’ firing range at the back of the property after lunch.

When Vengeance bought the piece of land the clubhouse and outbuildings sit on, we didn’t just invest in a lot large enough to hold the main building, forecourt, sheds and newly built six bay workshop. Boss had the foresight to realize that with the number of new members – whose families would inevitably grow over the coming years – that we’d need far more space than that.

After Hog died – Boss’ Dad and Vengeance’s previous president – Boss decided it was a good time to relocate the club to a larger premises. It took a little over a year for this place to come on the market and the second it did, Boss called a vote to use club funds to purchase it. It was a unanimous decision in the end. A sound investment, and all that.

A ten-minute ride from town, easy access to the I90, which runs five miles to the south of Furnace, butting up to the foothills of the Rocky Mountains, this land was a prime location for us to start fresh. Some serious hard work, round the clock construction for going on two years, and numerous headaches later, Vengeance MC was the proud new owners of seventy-four acres of property.

It now houses an eleven thousand square foot main clubhouse, enough parking for three hundred plus bikes, five outbuildings – most are little more than sheds – the six bay garage, and recently purpose-built dorms. Not to mention, we’ve got a new gym annex off the side of the clubhouse, eight-hundred-yard long firing range, and underground bunker we use for storing anything punishable by incarceration during a police raid.

Boss pauses, allowing everyone else an opportunity to say their piece if they have one, but with no takers he announces,

“Onto new shit then. Jump is putting forward his bid to sponsor, Will at church next week. All of you need to take the time either tonight or during the rest of the week to feel him out, see how he fits in, so we can put it to a vote. He seems like a solid kid. Young, but solid.” Nods go up around the table, a few of the men grinning at the chance to haze a new prospect soon. “That done, I got a call last night that provided me with some intel on one of the guys we’ve been searching for.”

No one needs a reminder as to who Boss is referring to, especially not me.

There are still two men who remain unidentified in relation to Avery’s rape. The club has utilized every resource at our disposal, followed leads, and ran down information surrounding their identities but nothing’s come of it. Not until now, or, at least, I hope this is the break we’ve been waiting for.

“Hate to say it, but it’s not much to go on. We still don’t have a name, but we’ve got a description. A witness says they saw a suspicious looking guy hanging around on the corner of Fourth and Main on the night we raided the warehouse. I talked to the guy who saw him myself, and he seems legit,” Boss adds.

“Did he get a good look at the guy?” Diesel interjects.

Nodding, Boss confirms,

“Yeah. It was dark but that area’s pretty well lit. Well-built guy, six-one, six-two, dark hair, was wearing jeans, brown leather jacket, and a skull cap. Obviously, our witness didn’t get his eye color or if he had any identifying markings, but he did say he white and his jacket wasn’t sporting any colors. Going to have to take this to Avery and see if she can confirm it, but it’s worth looking into all the same.”

“You want me to talk to her,” Sarge offers.

“See if you can work it into the conversation, break it to her as gentle as you can, but yeah, that’d be good.”

I could have offered the same, but I don’t. Avery and I have enough shit to work out as it is, I don’t need to be adding to it with something that will only stress her the fuck out and probably end up being a dead end.

Boss groans, running a hand through his disheveled hair, stating,

“I don’t want to take up any more of your time, but we need to discuss having another sit-down with, Nix.”

“What the hell for?” I question. “From everything you’ve told me, he was his usual fucking arrogant self at the last one. Nothing’s changed. He’s not going to cave on territory, and we’ve got no reason to back down either. It’ll be a wasted trip, and more headache than he’s worth.”

“Because,” Boss hedges. “We need to see how far he’s willing to push this fight. What happened to our women went unanswered, and don’t for a fucking second think that’s been forgotten, but until we can confirm Hells Riders involvement in it, we have to focus on what we can solve. Namely, their escalation of hostilities over where their territory ends and ours begins.”

Sarge interrupts by saying,

“This shit isn’t something that needs to be haggled over. It’s common sense that unless they’ve taken the upper-hand in these parts, everything stays status quo. Nix is an upstart little prick, but he’s not a stupid. That boy’s been planning this expansion for as long as he’s been sitting at the head of their table, doesn’t mean it’ll go any further than that, though.”

“I tend to agree,” Boss concurs. “Problem is; Nix is getting impatient. And that fucker, while not stupid, does stupid shit when he wants to force his hand.”

“Refresh my memory,” Cash prompts. “What’s he asking for, and how does it affect us?”

“He wants the eight miles around their compound, rights to the runs northbound on I90, and our promise that we won’t make bids for any of the protection runs statewide in the future,” Diesel doesn’t hesitate to remind us all.

“Not seeing a problem with the second part of that or the latter, but the first one, he can fuck right off,” Gage growls. “We’re out of the transportation game entirely, so it’s really only the eight miles he’s after. The last two were a smokescreen for the former.”

“I’m with, Gage,” I announce. “Hells Riders clubhouse being forty miles from ours is already close enough without taking into account the three miles they’ve already got bordering it. Eight miles is a stretch, and Nix knows it. If it were up to me, there’s no way in fuck I’d let that asshole creep another five miles in our direction.”

“Calm the fuck down,” Boss bellows. “I’m not saying I’m entertaining the idea, but he’s not backing down so it can’t hurt to play it like we’re willing to revisit the issue with him. We’re all in agreement that they aren’t expanding so this will be a straight up fact-finding mission.”

“Prez is right,” Sly says inclining his head. “The more we know, the better. Nix mightn’t be stupid, but he’s never been one to hold back any of his hand. He goes in balls to the wall and lets the chips fall where they may. Last time I spoke to, Signal, he was bitching about why the club bothered to have an Information Officer seeing as Nix runs off at the mouth all the time.”

Signal is Hells Riders IO. The position was created for him when the Black Widows patched-over last year. Before then, they’d been running the same way most smaller clubs do; without.

“That’s settled then. Sly, set something up with Nix, Worm, and Signal for mid-week. Tell them it’ll just be Diesel, you and me, we don’t need them bringing half the club with them for backup.”

“You got it, Boss.”

Banging the gavel to call the end of church, Boss reminds Diesel to stay behind as the rest of us file out. Before I can make it out the door, he asks,