Banger's Ride: Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 5) (56 page)

With a strong wrench, Cara freed herself and looked at him, panting. Hawk smirked at her. She smoothed her hair down but he tugged her to him again, kissing her hard. “You’re not my woman
yet
, babe.”

“I. Will. Never. Be. Your. Woman.”

He brushed her cheek with his thumb. “We’ll see about that. How wet is your pussy, babe?”

“How dare you!”

“Next time, don’t wear your fuck-me dress and heels.” He swaggered past her, swatted her ass, and laughed. “Be good tonight, babe.”

Incensed, she barreled past him to her car, climbed behind the wheel, and slammed the door. Stepping on the gas and peeling out of the driveway, she narrowly missed him. He jumped out of the way as she sped off without a backward glance.

*     *     *

“Why don’t you
just screw him and get it out of your system?” Sherrie asked.

Cara took a sip of her vodka martini. “I don’t know why I let him get to me. He’s so different from anyone I’ve ever known.”

“He gets to you because he drips sex. You know he wants to fuck you, and that’s a huge turn-on. He’s gorgeous. I’d have already feasted on his sexy bod.”

“Okay, I
do
think he’s sexy and incredibly good-looking, but he’s so demanding and infuriating. I don’t think sleeping with him would be a good idea. Yeah, it’d relieve my itch, but what could come of it?”

“A hot, memorable affair. I’d go for it.”

“I don’t know…”

“This kind of stuff doesn’t happen every day. I think you’ll be sorry if you walk away from this cutie. An affair is great: sex all the time, no strings attached, wonderful memories. When you’re all settled in your mansion on the hill with your high-powered attorney husband and two kids, you can think of your sexy biker love affair when your humdrum life becomes too much.”

“You make a good argument.” Cara smiled. An affair with Hawk—could she do it without getting emotionally involved? She doubted it. “I wish I were more like you, but I’m sort of old-fashioned. I like a relationship. An affair isn’t my style.”

Sherrie grinned. “I keep trying to convert you. I was hoping you’d take the plunge.”

“I feel like getting drunk and dancing the night away,” Cara said while she waved over the waiter. She was going to let loose and have a good time, for once.

*     *     *

“That was fucking
sloppy, bringing me a woman who has family in town. You told me none of these whores have anyone who would miss them. What the fuck?” the man screamed.

“Look, asshole, the bitch told us she was the only one in her family in the US. We don’t do background checks on the sluts,” the leather-clad man hissed.

“It complicates everything.” The man paced back and forth on the gravel.

“And killin’ those other two bitches who
are
from the area doesn’t? You’re losing it, man, and when we think someone is a liability, we get rid of them, got it?” The biker ground out his cigarette with his steel-toed boot.

“You tell us
we’re
sloppy. Shit, you’re the one leaving all these bitches strewn between three counties. You shoulda let us take care of the bodies like I told you.
You’re
the fuck-up.” The other biker leaned so close into the man’s narrow face, the killer could smell beer on the biker’s breath.

“It doesn’t solve anything to start blaming each other,” the man said, calming down. “We have to be careful, more so than ever. We have to go to a remote county.”

“You have to stop leaving bodies around, asshole. If you want to do your sick shit, okay, but get rid of the sluts permanently. I thought you were supposed to be smart. Fuck, you went to all them schools and shit. You’re nothing but a dumb fuck. Stop doing your shit on local bitches that got families. Got it?” The tall biker shoved him backwards.

“Okay, okay. The important thing is that we stick together. There’s too much at stake, if we get caught.”

“That fuckin’ bitch lawyer sticking her pretty nose where it don’t fuckin’ belong is causing all kinds of problems,” the biker seethed.

“Yes, that
is
a problem. Since she’s not an investigator, I don’t think we have too much to worry about, though.”

“She has her nose where it don’t belong. I’ll take care of her. It’ll be a real pleasure to fuck her before I cut her throat.”

“No, no, I’ll deal with her. She comes from an influential family, and we don’t want them getting involved.”

“I don’t give a shit. When we get rid of a body, no one ever finds it. We don’t leave bodies around like you. No one will ever find her.”

“Let me try and deal with this. If it gets too messy, then you can do what needs to be done with her.”

“We’ll be watching you,
sir
.” The biker laughed.

The man’s shoulders slumped. His breathing was irregular. Things were closing in on him, and everything was spiraling out of control. He didn’t know what to do. All he could think about was having a pretty, young, trembling whore tied spread-eagle and begging for her life. His cock pressed against his slacks at the thought. He hated the way the two bikers were staring at his dick and laughing at him and wished he could kill the dirty bastards and walk away from all this, but he knew he couldn’t. After all, he depended on them to feed his craving—a hunger which overpowered him and made him do horrible things. The dirty bastards looked at him with disgust, and if these outlaws were appalled and disgusted with his actions, then what hope did he ever have for redemption?

“Getting hungry?” They both laughed.

Head down, cock engorged, he nodded.

“We have a fresh one, just came over from some crazy-ass eastern European country, and she’s hot and young. I know your taste. You can have her, but we need free access to bring the rest of the trucks through. We got your word you’ll fix that?”

His heart raced as he imagined his sweet little slut. “Yes, yes, I’ll take care of that. When do I get to see her?”

“When the trucks have made it through this county.”

“That soon? Good.”

His blood pumped, and he was on top of the world again.

A very fine place to be.

“A
ll the exhibits
are marked, right?” Cara asked Asher.

“Check.”

“The witness, who can identify the photos and establish a chain of custody, is going to be in court for sure, right? I talked to him yesterday, but you double-checked it again last night, correct?”

“Calm down, Cara. Yeah, everything’s confirmed and reconfirmed. I can’t believe you’re so nervous. I’ve never seen you like this.” Asher smiled at his boss’s flushed face.

“I know, you’re right,” Cara groaned. “I’m nervous that what
should
happen, like getting this case dismissed,
won’t
happen. I know we have some dirty cops. I hope the courts aren’t contaminated, as well.”

“You don’t suspect the whole judicial system, do you?” Asher teased Cara, his eyes twinkling.

“I know, I sound like a paranoid nut, but you have to admit some major criminal stuff has been slipping by, and someone in a position of power is making it possible.” Asher rolled his eyes, and Cara shook her head. “I’m just saying, you know? Something weird is going on, and I don’t think it’s all cop-related.”

“Go. You’re going to be late.”

As she rushed out, she yelled over her shoulder, “Wish me luck!”

“Good luck, Cara. Show them they can’t mess with you.”

Cara disappeared down the hallway.

*     *     *

Hawk, leaning over
and talking to the giggling court clerk, saw Cara enter the courtroom from the corner of his eye. He purposely kept flashing his dimpled smile as he inched closer toward the clerk to hear what she was saying.

“Hey, Casanova, can you come over here?” Cara pointed at the table furthest away from the jury box.

“I’ve been summoned,” Hawk said to the clerk, making her laugh. He sauntered over to the table.

“Hi, babe,” he said.

“Sorry to break up your cozy klatch, but we have a few things to go over before the hearing starts.”

As Cara talked, Hawk checked her out. He saw her mouth twitch and her tone was stern; she was irked. Satisfaction coursed through his body. He’d played up his conversation with the clerk just to piss Cara off, and it worked.

As the deputy district attorney came into the courtroom, Hawk noticed he ran his eyes over Cara’s amazing rack, and that pissed
him
off. Hawk wished he could take him in an alley and punch the shit out of his round, chubby face.

Hawk focused back on Cara—specifically, her tight black skirt and purple satin top. He loved the way she wore clothes. He didn’t know how she did it, but she revealed more
in
clothes than all the women at the club did in their skimpy outfits. He could look at her all day, and the fact that she was doing and saying all this lawyer shit blew his mind. Her sass and confidence gave her a sexy softness, and he wanted to fuck her on the table in front of everyone with her law books around her. She blew his mind.

“Did you hear what I said, Hawk?”

“No.”

“You need to pay attention because I may need you to be a witness if the court wants additional information. I can’t have you zone out on me, understood?”

“You don’t need to patronize me, babe. I know what’s up.” He reached out and touched her hand. She jerked it away from him.

“Are you crazy? Don’t do that again. I don’t need this case compromised because you can’t keep your hands to yourself,” she gritted.

Hawk glared at her. He should grab her and kiss her hard enough to show her and every other damned ass in the courtroom that he didn’t give a shit about their rules. That was the trouble with citizens—they were so caught up in what people thought or said, making their insecurities their chains. He hated spending so much time in the citizens’ world.
Fuck
.

The judge took the bench, and the Motion to Dismiss hearing began. Cara fought hard on Hawk’s behalf. She produced the pre-raid photographs and authenticated them with a deputy sheriff who testified he’d received the photos from the lead investigator the morning of the search, and he’d marked and placed them in the evidence box. The deputy stated his surprise when the photos went missing. He swore he had no idea who took them out of the evidence box, but the photos Cara showed him in court were the same ones he’d handled that morning.

The deputy district attorney tried to punch holes in the deputy sheriff’s testimony, but the witness was firm and unyielding.

After an hour of testimony, both sides rested. Cara made a compelling argument to the judge that the prosecution had no proof the .22-caliber ammo box belonged to Hawk.

“Your Honor, the only proof in this case is that my client, Mr. Benally, is the victim of a setup. From the pre-raid photos, we can see that the ammo box was not on the table, and yet, the ammo box magically appeared after the photos were taken. There were no guns, not even a .22 revolver, found on the premises. My client was not even in his home when the ‘search’ was conducted. This whole case reeks, and it would be a miscarriage of justice to allow it to proceed.”