Haven: Renegade Saints MC (5 page)

Max

As much as I wanted to focus on Tori, I knew that I had some bigger fish to fry at the moment. I was dying to fuck her—to pull her into my arms and make that sweet body cry out with pleasure—but there was some urgent club business that had been on my mind since Kristoff died.

Way to go, champ
, I thought sourly.
Way to get in the mood
.

When Tori and I kissed, I’d seen stars. She was incredible. And I had the feeling that she’d be incredible in bed, too. That hungry body, her little tongue flickering back and forth. The soft way that her skin felt in my hand. When we’d kissed, a musky, warm scent had filled my nostrils. I’d realized that it was the scent of her arousal. That had been almost enough to make me go crazy, but I knew I couldn’t get carried away in the clubhouse. Sure, it wouldn’t be the first time I’d fucked a girl on club property. But with Kristoff’s murder still unsolved and Tori looking for a safe haven, I had a feeling that I was going to have to get some work out of the way before I could have any fun.

Tori had been looking at me with clear hunger in her eyes, the kind of hunger that wouldn’t be sated just from a kiss. I couldn’t keep from smirking. An hour ago, she’d called me a murderer. Now, I had a feeling I could tell her to get on her knees and suck my cock until I came and she’d do it.

“You gonna be alright?” I looked into Tori’s green eyes. “I’m gonna have Danny, one of the guys, take you to my place. You make yourself comfortable, okay? Take a shower, relax. There’s a bedroom made up with a lot of empty space. If you feel comfortable staying there, you can.”

Tori blushed. I knew then she’d been thinking about fucking me, too. “You aren’t coming?” She looked scared again.

“Danny is tough,” I assured her. “No one is going to fuck with you if you’re with him.”

Tori still didn’t look convinced. “I want to go home,” she said softly. “I want to get my things, and I have to tell my best friend that I’ll be safe.”

I nodded. “Okay,” I said. “I’ll tell Danny. You listen to him, though. If he tells you that you need to go, don’t fight him. He’s not a dumb shit, and he wants to keep you safe, just like I do.”

When I called Danny in to meet with Tori, he was practically drooling. I laughed. Danny was my age, but he acted like a big kid. I could tell he was thrilled to have Tori in his company, like she was some movie starlet or something.

“Y’all be good now,” I said with a wink. Danny burst out laughing and Tori shot me a dirty look. I shrugged. “I’ll see you later,” I said curtly, strutting outside and climbing on top of my hog.

My chest locked up as soon as I hit the road. It had been months since Kristoff died, but I hadn’t actually been over to his house to check things out. The idea had been painful, and there had been a lot of club drama to sort through. When he first died, everyone wanted some time to themselves. The club wasn’t active for a month or two. He’d been the leader for a long time, and I didn’t think most people would wanna stick around in his absence. But luckily, I’d been wrong.

It felt good to be out in the open air. I loved the clubhouse, but after a while, I’d started feeling kind of cooped up. Especially once Tori got so damn emotional. I wasn’t used to being around women who cried all the time, and I hoped she wouldn’t be like that after everything was said and done. It was one thing to be scared, it was another to be dramatic.

I shivered. Talia always used to say that I was being dramatic, that I was doing something wrong, that I needed to “take a chill pill and relax.” It was one of her favorite things to say. She was one of those women who couldn’t stand the idea of letting things get out of hand, one of those women who had to feel like she was taking charge at all times. It got tiring at times, but I liked how she seemed to lack the natural penchant for drama that a lot of women had instinctively.

Kristoff had lived in a big, ramshackle house outside of Marquette. The MC brought in a decent amount of cash flow, but lately things had been dry—that was why Kristoff had started the drugs up again. I’d hated it at the time, and I hated it now; if it hadn’t been for the drugs, Kristoff might still be alive.

His house looked normal in the sun, almost like a family still lived there. The yard was trimmed—one of the guys in the club came by every other week—but the flowers had died, and I could tell the driveway needed some patching.

“We’re gonna have to put you up for sale,” I said under my breath as I parked my bike in the driveway and climbed off. “After all, someone’s gonna wanna buy you and maybe put a family in you again.”

It felt weird, knowing that I was digging through Tori’s childhood home. Part of me wanted to call her and ask her if there were any secret hiding places. But then I realized that it would probably frighten her if she knew where I was.
Nah,
I decided.
Better to just keep her in the dark for now. Better not to say anything
.

I let myself in with the key shared by the club and looked around. Despite a fine layer of dust on everything, it looked pretty normal inside. It definitely didn’t look like the scene of a crime. I swallowed hard. Kristoff had been in the middle of a deal that had gone south. When he died, he was shot with a pistol. It was a pistol familiar to the MC, a pistol that every member got when he patched in. The bullet had been lodged in his brain; whoever had shot him had left him bleeding and then escaped. I hadn’t known until the next morning, when I’d come over for a routine meeting and found him dead.

I shivered. The house seemed chilly. Even though it was a warm spring day outside, there was still a weird atmosphere inside.
The house knows,
I thought to myself.
The house knows what happened here
.

Brushing off the creepy feeling, I climbed the stairs one by one. My boots creaked on the wooden steps and the sounds echoed off the walls. The interior hadn’t been painted in a long time; it was clear that before it went on the market the guys would have to come over and do some light touchups. But aside from that, everything looked pretty good. The furniture was draped in sheets, and the scene of the crime had been cleared up.

Kristoff had been shot in his bedroom. I shuddered, trying to visualize the scene. The blood had been cleaned up off the hardwood floor, but the memory of seeing Kristoff’s prone body wouldn’t ever leave my mind. It was an image that I was glad Tori hadn’t seen, an image that haunted my nightmares.

“Old man, what kind of secrets were you hiding?” I mumbled as I dug through the bureau. Not much was left; after Kristoff had been shot, the MC had sent a cleaning crew over to the house. They’d boxed up most of his things for disposal, including his clothes, which went off to the local Salvation Army. Now the bureau was empty, save for a couple of old photographs. I picked them up, expecting to see baby photos of Tori. But instead, they were all club members: Kristoff with my boys, Kristoff on his bike, Kristoff with his arm around a couple of strippers.

Laughing, I shook my head. The men in the Renegade Saints were all the same. Give us a bottle and a warm girl to spend the night with, give us an open road and a black hog. That was all we needed to be happy.

Except, not quite
, a small voice said from the back of my head.
Not quite. You thought you needed something else for a long time
.

“Fuck off,” I mumbled. I didn’t feel like thinking of Talia again, not now, not ever. She was dead and gone, and there was no use dwelling on the past.

It was true that while we were together, I’d thought about leaving the MC. Talia wanted to challenge me, to inspire me to do new things. She came in because of the guys, but once we were together, it was like she didn’t approve of my staying in the club. I remembered fighting with her over it all the time. I told her that I had goals in life, and in order to reach those goals, I had to stay a Renegade Saint.

Talia didn’t share my opinion.

Now, I wondered if there had been anything behind her push to get me away from the guys. Maybe she was like other women, worried about infidelity during the good years and money during the bad ones.

Reaching forward, I yanked open the drawer from Kristoff’s nightstand. It was empty, but I heard something rustle when it was open.

“What was that?” My voice echoed in the empty room. Getting to my feet, I yanked the nightstand to the side and peeked behind. My gaze landed on a piece of paper that was awkwardly folded into thirds. It looked like Kristoff had maybe stuck it inside the nightstand, then slammed the door and forgotten about it, sending it flying to the back of the drawer.

I bit my lip as I unfolded the paper. When I’d come here, I wasn’t sure what I’d been looking for. But the atmosphere around me seemed to have changed instantly, from relatively friendly to ominous.

“Call off the deal or you’ll face the consequences.”

I shuddered after I’d read it. It was straight and to the point, alright. I wondered who had been blackmailing Kristoff.

I dropped the paper onto the bed and gazed around, looking for something made out of plastic. Finally, I spotted a tiny wastebasket that hadn’t yet been emptied. I dumped the trash on the floor, then folded the trash bag over itself and picked up the piece of paper. I didn’t know who had written this—the handwriting was stark and unfamiliar—but maybe there were prints or something that I could check. Maybe some DNA or some other science shit, maybe some kind of technology that would lead me straight to the killer.

Anything was possible.

I left Kristoff’s house whistling, feeling better than I had in ages. I’d never seen this note before, and hopefully with a little more digging, I’d be able to find out who wrote it. After all, I was only looking to clear my name and find the killer. It couldn’t be that hard, right?

Part of me was almost nervous to go home. I wanted to see Tori again, but she’d locked herself in one of the bedrooms. I lived in a ranch house on the other side of Marquette from Kristoff’s place. It was a house I’d bought when Talia and I were engaged, and I didn’t have the heart to sell it. It was a real home, the kind of home she said she wanted to raise kids in. While I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be a parent or not, the idea of Talia wanting to bear my children had always made me feel proud, warm, and fuzzy. I had no idea whether or not I’d be a good father, but it had made me happy to picture coming home to my gorgeous wife and a baby or two. Talia had always been honest with me about what she’d wanted. I only hoped Tori would do the same.

“Tor?” I knocked on the closed door. “Feel like getting some food?”

There was a pause. “Do you cook?”

I burst out laughing. “Uh, yeah, if you call ordering a pizza cooking,” I said playfully.

Silence.

“No, thanks,” Tori called back after a moment. “I’m really tired, Max. I think I’m just going to lie down.”

I swallowed hard. “Nervous about tomorrow?”

There was no answer.

“Tori?”

“I’m fine,” she called back. The exasperation in her voice was clear. “I’ll be fine, I mean.”

“Suit yourself,” I called back. “I’m going to order an extra-large, with pepperoni and mushroom. You can help yourself to the leftovers if you want.”

There was no reply. A small surge of anger rushed through my body. Part of me was tempted to break down the door and drag Tori out into the living room.
And then what?
I thought.
Make her eat pizza? Take her clothes off?
Shaking my head, I laughed. Women were crazy alright. And now I was starting to think that maybe I’d gotten stuck with the craziest one of all.