Ravage: Lightning Bolts MC (11 page)

I took a deep breath of my own. I felt very cold all of a sudden, and pulled the blanket tighter around myself.

“He busted into my clubhouse and tried to take me out. He thought he got me, too, and he turned the gun on the man who used to be president before me.”

“Did he kill him?” I realized I was holding my breath in anticipation. I couldn’t imagine living life like that.

“No. I got him before he could fire.”

“Holy shit,” I whispered.

“Tell me about it.” His voice was flat and grim.

“How long were you in prison?”

“Seven years.”

“Oh my God.”

“That’s nothing compared to what some guys get for what I did.”

“But it was self-defense!” I argued. I could have laughed at myself for caring as much as I did, but I did care. It didn’t seem fair for a person to serve time when all they did was defend themselves.

“You know that, and I know that. But I had some other black marks against my name, too. Long story short, I served way less than I could have.”

“Do you ever think about the man you killed?”

He went silent for a moment before answering. “I don’t even remember his name.” He didn’t sound uncaring, though. He sounded lost. He was a lost person. My heart went out to him again, like it did when he told me about his miserable first time with a woman. He put on a good show—Mr. Hard Ass. Inside, he was something else.

There I was again, asking questions about him. Being nosy. But I couldn’t help wanting to know more about him. He fascinated me, just as much as he pissed me off. He wasn’t all bad. He probably had a messed up life before joining the club, but I didn’t dare ask him about it. It wouldn’t be right.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me,” he said. His voice was very quiet, and a little sad.

“I’m not afraid of you.”

“No, but you don’t trust me.”

“Because you won’t hold up your end of the agreement we made. How can I trust a person who won’t follow through with their promises?”

“We didn’t exactly sign a contract,” he said. “There were no terms. I didn’t agree to give you the money after the first time, or the second time, or even the tenth time. You should have gotten it in writing.”

My heart hardened. “Just when I start thinking you’re a decent person, you prove me wrong. Is it exhausting being a bastard all the time?”

“Yeah, totally. That’s why I’m going to sleep now.” He rolled onto his side, away from me, and settled in. All I could see was his broad back. I wanted to stab him in it.

Instead, I rolled away again and closed my eyes. It didn’t take long to fall asleep. When I did, I dreamed of little boys on big motorcycles. That was all he was. He never grew up.

Eric

It was a restless night. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I would have been much better off if she slept in my arms, but I wouldn’t dare touch her. All I needed was for her to start screaming that I took advantage of her or tried to rape her or something.

She asked too many questions, and I was too quick to answer. It was probably because I wasn’t used to people asking me about myself, or maybe because I never met anybody before her who made me want to talk. Usually I’d shut a woman up by rolling over on top of her and fucking her, or I’d pretend to be asleep. Michelle had a way of asking questions and leading me into telling her my life story. She didn’t need to know anything about me.

I was surprised, though, when I woke up and found that she was still in bed. I expected her to leave the room when I was asleep—afraid to sleep next to a murderer. But she held strong.
Stubborn bitch
, I thought, looking at her as she slept.

I picked up my phone, sitting on my nightstand, to check the time. I didn’t notice the time, though. I noticed that I had ten missed calls. The first three were from Slash, and the others were from the rest of the club. Something bad must have happened.

I sat up in bed, and the movement woke Michelle. “What’s going on?” she asked, rolling over, sounding sleepy.

“Don’t worry about it.” I listened to one of the voicemails I got from Spike, and the blood drained from my face. Slash was in the hospital. There was a fight the night before. Shit. I should have answered when he called. Why didn’t I call him back? I didn’t even remember anymore. Maybe because of her. I didn’t want the club breaking in on what we had together, even if what we had was uncomfortable. Another stupid move from me.

I got out of bed and called Slash’s phone, but he didn’t pick up. Not surprising—if he was in the hospital, he probably didn’t have it nearby, or he might have been sleeping. It was still early in the morning. I started pulling clothes together.

“What is it?” Michelle was sitting up in bed, watching me.

“One of my guys is in the hospital,” I said, zipping up my jeans. “There was a big fight last night or something. I have to go see him.”

“I’m sorry. Are you two close?”

“He’s my best friend,” I said, and again I wondered why it seemed natural to blurt out something like that. Why did I have verbal diarrhea whenever she was around?

“Do you need somebody to go with you?”

I turned to her, and I was ready to tell her off, but I saw how serious she was when I got a look at her face. She really cared. I softened a little bit.

“No, thanks. You stay here. I might have to make another stop after I see him.” I didn’t stop to say anything else. I was in too much of a hurry to get to the hospital. From what I heard in the voicemail, it didn’t sound good.

“Damn it!” I growled as I rode. I was so stupid to let Michelle get in the way like that. What was wrong with me? The club was what mattered, not some girl who wouldn’t let me touch her if I fucking begged. Shit, I was paying for it, and she still wouldn’t let me. I had to be crazy.

The ride to the hospital was only ten minutes, but it might as well have been an hour. It felt that way. All sorts of shit went through my head as I rode. What if Slash died? What if he was already gone and I was never there for him? What would the rest of the club think? I tore myself apart with thoughts like that before I pulled into the parking lot, then I ran inside and asked where I could find him. They gave me a room number, which was a good sign—if he were dead, they wouldn’t send me to a room, I thought. I took the elevator to the fourth floor and practically ran down the hall.

Spike and a few of the other guys were sitting in the hall. “It ain’t visiting hours yet, but we wouldn’t leave. We can’t go in to see him for another half hour.”

“What the hell happened?”

Spike looked at the others, then at me. “It was Gareth and his crew.”

My blood boiled. “I should have fucking known.”

“Slash wasn’t the only one who got hurt, but he was the only one who had to stay.”

“How bad is he?”

“He had a concussion, broken ribs, a broken leg. They thought he had a serious brain injury at first, but the scans said no. Thank God. He was cut up pretty bad, too, but that’s all, whaddya call it, superficial.”

“Thank God for that, too,” I muttered. I couldn’t believe I missed it. What sort of president was I? I should have been sitting there all night, not Spike. I was sleeping with a woman who didn’t want me to touch her. I was such a stupid ass.

“Sit down,” Spike said. “Take a few deep breaths. You look like you’re ready to have a stroke.”

“You’re in the right place if you are,” one of the others said, and I had to laugh a little. Spike was right. I needed to calm down before I blew a fuse.

“Was he awake last night?”

“Not much, but the doc said he’ll probably be awake today. You can talk to him when we’re allowed to go in. Come on,” he said, patting me on the back. “Let’s get some coffee in the cafeteria. You eat yet?”

I shook my head, so Spike pulled me to my feet and led me to the elevator. The other guys waited for us to get back.

When we were alone, Spike said what was really on his mind. “Where were you last night? Everybody was worried as shit about you. Slash gets ambushed, and we can’t reach you, what do you think we’re gonna imagine?”

“I was at home. You could have found me at home.”

“Your phone not working all of a sudden? No, I know that’s not it, because you got the message this morning. So it has to be working okay. Why didn’t you answer any of our calls?”

“I didn’t feel good last night. I went to bed early.”

“My ass, you went to bed early. I know what you did last night.”

I looked at him. I didn’t know whether he was bluffing. “What did I do, then?”

“You went sniffing around that auction. You don’t think I hear things? I knew what you and Slash were talking about yesterday. Please don’t tell me you bought one of them.”

I looked away.

“Damn it. What are you thinking?”

“That’s my business,” I said.

“You’re right, it is,” he admitted. “You do what you want with your money. But you just got out of prison a few months ago, and now you bought a girl. The DA could just as easily call that prostitution as anything else. You’re on parole. You have to play it safe.”

“When do any of us ever play it safe?” We got to the cafeteria and bought ourselves coffee and breakfast sandwiches. We didn’t start talking again until we sat with our food.

“Don’t be cute with me,” he warned. I went quiet. I knew him well enough to know when he wasn’t fucking around.

“What do you want me to say? I went there to see what Gareth was doing.”

“You know what Gareth was doing? He was planning to attack your men, that’s what. Your place was with them, not at some fucking virgin auction. You have to be smart with this guy, or he’ll get you into serious trouble. You won’t even see it coming.”

“He already got me into trouble, or don’t you remember?” I glared at Spike. Sometimes I thought he forgot what I did for him. I knew all about how dangerous Gareth could be.

Spike held up his hands and nodded. “You’re right, you’re right. Just don’t forget, okay? Don’t lose sight of what’s important.”

“Where did the fight happen? Not at the clubhouse, I guess, right? They wouldn’t be that stupid.”

“No, Slash and all them went to another bar, just outside of town. A strip club, actually. They were having a good time until Gareth’s guys showed up. Even then, Slash was ready to let it go. He didn’t wanna start a fight. He decided to leave, and told the other guys to pull out. But Gareth’s crew caught up to them in the parking lot. They didn’t even talk, they just started hitting. They planned it out in advance. They went in there knowing there was gonna be a fight.”

“What the fuck is wrong with that guy?” I asked. “Why is he deliberately coming at me like this? Is he really that crazy?”

“Crazy and obsessed,” Spike muttered. “He always wanted to be part of the Lightning Bolts, and he didn’t make the cut. So he joined the Reign of Chaos instead. Those sad sons of bitches were never particular about who joined their club.”

“Yeah, I know all about them.” I stared into my coffee cup. “I don’t know, it feels personal against me.”

“He’s pissed that you’re better than him, that’s all. That’s all he needs. He’s a sick fucker.”

“Obviously.” I clenched my fists as another wave of anger hit me. “I want him dead. I want to kill him.”

“Cool off. That’s what he wants you to feel. You think it was an accident that he went after your best friend? Come on. Think about it. He’s ready for you to come at him.”

He was right about that, too. I sighed and sat back in my chair. “Maybe I don’t have what it takes to be president,” I said. “You have all the answers, and I don’t have any.”

“I wasn’t born knowing the answers.” He smiled under his white mustache. “So don’t sweat it. I’m just glad I can be here for you, to help you figure things out. I didn’t have that luxury. My prez got himself blown the hell up. I didn’t have anybody to ask advice.”

“What do you think the next move should be?”

He shook his head. “That, I can’t tell you—not because I don’t want to, but because I honestly don’t know. We have to lay low, though. That much I do know. And we can’t get him with fists or weapons, because he’s got more of both. And his men are fucking insane. They won’t stop until the guy they’re fighting is dead. They wouldn’t have let up on Slash if somebody didn’t call the police in time for them to break it up.”

“Shit.” I thought about them killing Slash, or trying to, and it didn’t do much for my temper. I wanted to tear Gareth apart, slowly, bit by bit. I wanted him to hurt a lot before he died. And I wanted him to know I was the one doing it to him.

“So we have to be smarter than him,” I said, thinking. “There has to be a way to get something on him, something big. I mean, he’s not a secretive guy. He has to make mistakes somehow. We just have to find it.”

“What about the auction? Did you find anything?”

I shook my head. “On the surface, it all looks totally legit. He even decked out the warehouse he uses—I guess it belongs to the club or something. It’s nicer than I thought it would be. He wasn’t there. His old lady was. She made sure to get her ten percent before I left.”

“What about the money for the girl?”

“That’s up to the man and woman, the payment terms. It’s shitty all the way around. He doesn’t care that the girls get their money, only that he does.”

“Sounds like him,” Spike said with disgust in his voice. “Did you give your girl her money?”

“It’s complicated.” I left it at that. “But I plan to. I wonder how many girls lost their virginity last night and have nothing to show for it today.”

“He’s a sick son of a bitch,” Spike said.

“That’s being nice.”

“So you plan to?” Spike grinned.

“I said it’s complicated. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll leave your twisted sex life alone.” He grinned again.

My twisted sex life. Yeah, that was pretty much the long and short of it. I was fucked up more than ever over Michelle. Talk about twisted. Being away from her and thinking it over, I realized how stupid it was to keep her with me. I owed her the money. It wasn’t fair for me to dangle it like a carrot in front of her.