Angels and Ashes (Heaven's Rejects MC Book 2) (25 page)

Climbing back on the bike, I resolve to myself that it’s time to put my game face back on and help Michael end this club bullshit so I can I have my family back. If I have to wait much longer, I may just butt in and handle their business myself.

“Morning, darlin’,” I whisper against Darcy’s head. She doesn’t even make a sound or even move at my words but instinctively snuggles closer to me. I’ve come to hate mornings with Church because I have to leave her behind to sleep while I handle business.

Pulling away my body from Darcy’s naked form after another long night of fucking and talking until the early morning hours has quickly become my least favorite part of the day. Sliding from the bed, I peer down at her before heading into the bathroom for a shower. The hot spray hits me with a jolt that jarrs me awake and my aching muscles groan as they relax. I stand under the spray thinking back about one of our conversations last night.

“How did you get your road name?” Darcy asked as she rolled over to prop herself up on her elbows. “Is it short for Razor or something?” I shot her a glare as she just laughed. “You didn’t answer me,” she challenged back. “Is it embarrassing?”

“No, darlin’, it’s not. What you have to understand first is that things were different back when I patched in. The club was in shambles and involved with so many crooked, back door dealings that it was a step away from blowing up in our faces. The day the gavel passed down to me after my pops died, I cleaned house. I took everything bad and illegal about our club and burned it to the ground to make this club what it should have been all along: a brotherhood and a family.”

“So your road name is nearly in the literal sense?”

“Yes, it was actually Jagger who gave me my nickname. We were sitting outside of the clubhouse after a particularly rough night cleaning up a mess that my dad had left behind. We were just shooting the shit when he got a serious look on his face. He gave me this big speech about honoring our brotherhood and making sure that things never went back to the way they were after I dismantled the current business dealings of the club. From that night on, he started calling me Raze.”

She quieted down after I mentioned his name, and even though she put on a good show, I could feel her wet tears falling on my arm as she pretended to sleep. It pains me to know that she still mourns him like he was killed just yesterday, but who am I to put a time limit on how long one grieves?

Shaking her sadness from my mind, I think about how Darcy has become nearly insatiable in the bedroom to the point that I am sore by the time morning comes after a particularly hardcore fuck-a-thon. I caught myself thinking about how in the hell Jagger kept up with her energy and fire with their age difference, but I stopped myself from even thinking about her relationship with him. I know they were married, but there’s a part of me that is jealous knowing that another man had claimed her before I could. Learning to live with someone’s past while thinking about the future can be a bitch sometimes, especially if you’re the one who could be crossing the line.

Exploring my relationship with Darcy has helped the last few weeks pass by relatively easy as we wait for news from Irons and Thrasher. It has shocked me how well Darcy and I work together in our relationship. Where I am hard, she is soft, unlike my ex-wife who was all hard. The ease that I feel with Darcy is foreign to me compared to my past relationships. It’s like she gets me on a completely different level and understands not to push sensitive topics. Granted, it took her a few times to realize that talking about Maj wasn’t something I enjoyed doing, but I find myself opening up more to her about the downfalls of my marriage.

I’ll admit that during some of these deeper conversations between us that I feel guilty keeping her husband’s and now my secret away from her. She deserves to know the full truth about her husband’s death, but I’m afraid if I do that I will lose what we have now and her. She’s smiling again, and telling her will only bring more pain and suffering. I keep telling myself that I am keeping her in the dark for her own good, but lately, I’ve been thinking that maybe I’m doing it for my own selfish reasons.

Stepping out the shower, I quickly dress and quietly leave my room, heading for the main room where I can already smell one of the club whores cooking breakfast for us before our meeting.

“Morning, Prez,” Voodoo mumbles as he shovels a heaping pile of scrambled eggs in his mouth. I pull up a chair at the bar between Hero and Ratchet just when Ruby slides a full plate in front of me followed by Bubbles with a cup of hot coffee.

“Thanks, ladies,” I mutter as I pick up my fork and dig in. I get three bites in before I notice Ratchet fidgeting while shoving his uneaten food around his plate.

“You all right over there?” I ask, watching his toss down his fork before turning to me.

“So you and Jagger’s old lady, huh?” Ratchet questions with wide eyes as Tyson joins breakfast.

“What about it?” I remark cautiously.

“Just seems a bit odd that you’d take up with your former brother’s wife. Isn’t that like coveting another man’s property or some shit?”

“Anyone else have an issue with it?” I demand as I make eye contact with everyone around the room. “Now’s the time to voice your concerns, because once this discussion is over, we won’t be bringing it up again.”

“I’m fine with it, Prez,” says Hero with a nodding Voodoo and Tyson behind him. “You’re both lonely, we get it.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s right,” mutters Ratchet under his breath.

“Just a few weeks ago, Ratchet, you stood outside and told me to ‘fuck her or fuck her out of my system’. Well, we did just that, and for the time being we’re trying out whatever is between us. It may be temporary, or it may be permanent, but as it stands now, you will treat her like my old lady, and you will give her your respect.”

“We just don’t want you distracted by her when we have more important shit to deal with, Boss, that’s all. Good pussy is good pussy, but it shouldn’t cloud your judgment,” Hero chimes in. “But, I’m with Raze, she’s been an old lady before and knows the ropes. It’s not like she’s some fresh-faced whore off the streets.”

“Thanks for the glowing recommendation there, Hero.” I shove away from the bar and hop off my stool before shoving it back into place and thanking the girls again for breakfast, even if the eggs weren’t fully cooked. Ruby really needs to take cooking lessons or something because I doubt she could properly boil water judging by her lack of scrambled egg skills, but then again, those aren’t the skills the guys keep her around for, anyway.

“Church in five,” I demand as I spin around and head for the meeting room with hushed whispers beginning behind me.

“You know that if she stays with you, you’ll only end up getting her killed just like Jagger, right?” someone calls out from the bar. A flash of Darcy lying in a casket hits me hard, but I shove that away. Nothing is going to happen to her as long as I am still breathing, even if these fuckers that I should be able to call my brothers think otherwise.

Shoving open the door of our meeting room, I angrily stomp to the head of the table and plop in my chair while I fume. Fuck them and their judgment. Maj may have been a shitty old lady, but Darcy hasn’t given them a single damn reason to question her loyalty.

I continue to fume as the guys began to shuffle into the room. Church usually only happens a few days a week, but with Irons and Thrasher in Mexico, we’ve ramped up the schedule to meet almost daily to keep everyone up to date as information comes in. It took the guys some time to maneuver themselves into town without drawing suspicion, but earlier this week, we finally started to get some decent reports back about the area.

The last few days they have been radio silent. It makes me uneasy when our contact is limited, because with the unrest in Mexico at an all-time high, they could both be lying dead for days before we’d even go down to look for them. Church starts off as it usually does with updates from Tyson on our finances and Voodoo with his surveillance footage. Hero did share the only uplifting news with his announcement that the girls are finally settled in at home and doing well. While it’s exciting for him to have his kids at home, it also means that he’ll need to be away more often to support Dani in their care. Not that I mind it, but the timing just sucks. He’s the kind of guy you want by your side in a dogfight, but I won’t keep him from his family if that’s where he wants to be.

“Anything else we need to talk about?” I remark before the phone on the center of the Church table rings. I lean over the table and hit the answer button along with the speaker phone.

“What do you have for me, boys?” I say without a hello.

“Well, hello to you, too, Prez. I see you’re in a happy-go-lucky mood today.”

“Can the cuteness, Irons, and give us your report,” I snarl back.

“It’s a quiet little town,” reports Irons. “El Diablo doesn’t have much to offer except a small cantina and a few scattered houses surrounding it.”

“It’s been a bitch to get cell phone service here, Boss,” Thrasher chimes in.

The men around the table roll their eyes as Irons and Thrasher continue to bitch about the lack of amenities and modern day luxuries.

“You two done bitching like spoiled Malibu Barbies?” Hero pipes up. “We’d like to hear some actual information we can use.”

“Shut the fuck up, Hero,” Irons yells. “You’d be bitching too if you weren’t able to get air conditioning in the pits of hell they call Mexico, too. I think a new river is gonna start out of the crack of my ass if the temperature doesn’t start acting like it’s fall here.”

Glaring at Hero, he slumps back in his chair with a huff as he crosses his arms.
Who pissed in his Cheerios today?

“Did you find anything at the coordinates Voodoo gave you?” I ask.

Irons goes mute, and my stomach drops knowing that it’s probably just another dead end.

“Sorry about that, Boss, one of the locals walked up to the truck trying to sell us fresh fruit or some shit. Took a while to get rid of them. Can you repeat the question?”

“Did you find anything at the location?”

“There’s nothing out there but rocks and dirt paths.”

A collective grumble fills the room as Irons interrupts our groaning.

“But, I did find a path leading from that spot that we followed up into the mountain range nearby. It took about two days, but we found a house nestled into the north side of the cliff.”

Voodoo comes out of his seat to my right and leans directly next to the speaker of the phone.

“Please tell me you got an approximate longitude for the place?” he begs.

“Sure did, V. We used those long-range binoculars you lent us—cool shit, by the way—and got a visual on the place. It’s heavily guarded with several expensive fucking cars parked outside. Thrasher should be texting you the coordinates now along with a few pics he’s snapped of license plates in town,” Irons says as Voodoo’s phone chirps in his pocket. He retrieves his phone and looks at it before bolting from the room.

“What kind of security are you talking about?” Hero asks. “Can you give us specifics?”

“Standard issue assault rifles and some pretty big dudes. Guns looked to be an AR-15, but without being closer, I can’t be sure. The last count we have was about twenty armed guards.”

“You see anything else? People or drug vans pulling out of the place?” I inquire, hoping that they could get us at least an idea of who’s running the operation.

“No vans, but the guy in charge looks to be a short, stocky guy with curly brown hair. We’ve been up there a few times to check them out, and he always seems to wear the same damn white hat and pants.”

My heart begins to race at the man’s description. If I didn’t know any better, they could be describing Maj’s Uncle Ricardo Manuel that she used to tell stories about to the kids when they were little. She had fallen out with her family by the time we’d gotten together and she had no desire to ever be considered a relative of theirs. Goddamnit. Even knowing now how much of a fucking liar she was, the story doesn’t seem that far-fetched. I’m betting she practiced that sobbing shit to go along with it for months before she sunk her claws into my dopey ass who soaked up every single word.
I am a fucking idiot.

I close my eyes and try to think back to all the times that she described him to the kids. The white hat and pants could be anybody, but I needed to remember some detail that would distinguish him from the rest of the cartel. Just as I am about to give up, a thought hits me.

“Irons, did you get a good look at his shoes?”

“Jesus, man. This isn’t some fashion show. Why would his shoes matter?” Ratchet expresses.

“Just humor me, okay?” I reply back to him. “Were they lime green, Irons?”

I hear muffled mumbling in the background as he confers with Thrasher before coming back to us.

“They sure were, Prez. Thrasher said he could see them from a mile away.”

My stomach jumps to my throat as I am on my feet in an instant barking out orders.

“I need you to get extra eyes on my mom’s and Darcy’s parents houses in Arizona. I want them to have rotating watch details of two or more until they hear otherwise.” While I had just a single prospect watching each house, I’d feel better knowing that when the shit hits the fan for real this time that they are better protected. The thought crosses my mind of sending Darcy, Dani, and Ricca out there until we get back, but that’s a bridge that I’ll have to cross after getting the rest of the details down.