Banger's Ride: Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 5) (69 page)

For many years, the Insurgents and the Deadly Demons used to be rival clubs, and club wars were the norm. After years of killing each other and having brothers on both sides locked up, the two clubs called a truce. They both recognized that neither side was winning, but they were all losing, so for the past five years, the Deadly Demons did their thing and the Insurgents did theirs. As long as the Deadly Demons respected the Insurgents and their territory, the Insurgents had no reason to mess with them.

The Nomads seemed like they respected the truce between their mother club and the Insurgents, but they didn’t—they’d overstepped the line, and some retribution was necessary. The Nomads not only trafficked women and meth through Insurgents territory, they had also placed a thief at Dream House, had the fucking badges focused on the Insurgents, and their asshole president, Viper, had messed with Cara. Whether the national president, Reaper, condoned the betrayal was unclear, but what
was
clear was that the assholes needed to be set straight.

Viper came out of the clubhouse and walked toward the truck, and it took all of Hawk’s resolve not to shoot him on the spot. Seeing Viper’s hands, he pictured them on Cara’s body, and he grunted angrily. Jax, hearing Hawk’s short breaths, whispered, “Easy, now, you got time for all that. We’re here to scout.”

“I know. I just can’t wait to stomp on that fucker’s balls,” Hawk hissed.

Viper opened the back of the truck, and two Nomads jumped into the back. “Out, get the fuck out. Now. Come on sluts, out!”

Fifteen young, terrified ladies jumped out the back of the truck. Viper touched each woman as they passed him, grabbing their tits, asses, and pussies. The women recoiled from his touch, and a pretty blonde girl with ice blue eyes sobbed. Viper pulled her from the group. “Put this one in the basement in the Dungeon Room,” he said to one of the members. As she twisted in Viper’s grip, he backhanded her, then dragged her to the cellar door.

A brunette dressed in leather shorts and a tight top stood shivering in the late-morning air. Viper pulled her to him and squeezed her tits. Yelping, the woman struggled to break free of him, and a cruel smile played on Viper’s lips. “You’re a fighter. I like that. We’re gonna have some fun before I send you to Phoenix.” Viper shoved her into a side door, saying, “Take her to my room.”

For half an hour, the women were checked in, groped, slapped, and shoved through various doors. Each time one of the Nomads abused a woman, the Insurgents clenched their jaws. They would’ve liked nothing better than to take out those motherfuckers and free the women, but the Nomads overpowered them in numbers—there were twelve members including Viper. Hawk didn’t want to jeopardize their lives, but he hated to see the women mistreated. Although, he knew after the women left the clubhouse, a dire fate faced them as they’d be smuggled to various massage parlors and brothels across state lines.

“You two stay here to see when the women leave. These assholes won’t risk keeping them here overnight. My guess is they’ll move them out soon. Jax, give Banger a call with the details. I’ll send some more brothers. Once the women are out, riddle the club.” Several assault weapons and grenades accompanied the group on their scouting mission. “Blow it to fuckin’ Hell,” he said.

“Can’t wait,” Jax said while Chas nodded. Everyone’s adrenaline pumped.

“We’ll get a few members to intercept the truck and let the women go. This trafficking is pussy bullshit. I knew the Nomads were nothin’ but bitches,” Hawk sneered. “Keep Viper alive until I get back. That fucker is mine.”

Hawk rolled his Harley down a ways so as not to create suspicion among the Nomads. Then he jumped on and hauled ass to Pinewood Springs.

When Hawk entered the clubhouse, Banger greeted him and said, “The grapevine is tellin’ me these bastards are acting alone. If we don’t stomp them out, the national Deadly Demons’ president has word out to the New Mexico clubs to take them out. Seems they neglected to tell Reaper they had a sex-trafficking side business that brings in hundreds of thousands of dollars, and they forgot to tell him ’bout the meth they’ve been cooking. Looks like these fuckers don’t wanna share, and Reaper ain’t too pleased.”

“Good, then when we blow them to Hell, the Demons aren’t gonna shed any tears, right?” Hawk asked.

“Hardly. They’ll be grateful to us for doin’ their dirty work and keepin’ them under the radar.”

“Can’t wait to kick some Nomad ass.” Hawk clenched his fists.

Hawk turned to go upstairs to see Cara when Banger said, “You’ve got quite a woman.”

“What do you mean?”

“Lola was givin’ her a hard time this morning. She was in Cara’s face, and I thought your woman was gonna wilt, but fuck, she walloped the shit outta the bitch. The slut is still in the kitchen holding an ice pack. Her face is swelled up like a melon. Shocked the hell outta all of us.”

“Cara decked her?”

“Yep. Fuck, I was impressed. She’s got a fire in her.”

“I know.” Hawk smiled.

In the kitchen, Hawk found Lola who held an ice pack on the right side of her face. She averted her gaze as he stood in front of her with blazing eyes. “You ever bother my woman again, I’ll throw your fuckin’ ass outta this club, got it?”

“Yeah,” Lola mumbled.

“You’re damn lucky she isn’t wearing my patch, ’cause your ass would be hitting the asphalt right about now. Don’t you ever fuckin’ disrespect my woman again, bitch.” Hawk stormed out of the kitchen and ran up the stairs.

When he came into his room, Cara sat at the computer.

“Hey, slugger,” he said, winking.

Cara groaned, “You heard? I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“You got a strong swing, babe. I know,” Hawk reminded her, rubbing the side of his face.

“She was awful. She gave me shit, pushed me, and raised her hand like she was going to hit me.”

“You don’t have to explain, babe. I know the score. You defended yourself. I’m proud of you.”

“I
do
have to explain, because this isn’t like me. I don’t go around hitting people. I’ve never hit anyone except for her.”

“And me, remember?”

“Yeah, but you deserved it,” she joked.

“Probably, and so did she. Don’t concern yourself over it. She won’t bother you again. I told her to back off or her ass is outta here.”

“You told her that?”

“Of course. Do you think I’m going to let a slut disrespect my woman? Fuck no,” he said, pulling her into him.

Cara wrapped her arms around his waist, and warmth spread over her as she realized Hawk was willing to throw Lola out of the club for her sake.

“What did she say to you?” he asked.

“She said you two have been together, and you were not a one-woman man. She said you’d get tired of me and go back to her and other women. Did you have something with her?”

Hawk tilted her face up toward his and looked into her eyes. “I didn’t have
something
with her—we fucked, and that was it. I’ve been with a ton of women, but they were there to give me pleasure. I’ve been honest with you about my past. You gotta go beyond this.”

“I’m trying, but it’s hard. I’ve trusted men before, and I’ve been hurt. It seems men promise you what you want to hear, but they don’t deliver in the long run.” She broke away from his stare.

“I’m not other men. I’m not that fuckin’ jerk who broke your heart in law school. I don’t do bullshit. If I wanna fuck other women, I’ll tell you. I don’t believe in doin’ shit behind your back.”

“Do you want to be with other women?”

“I wanna be with you.”

“Am I enough for you? I mean, you’re used to so many types of women with a lot of experience, and I’m scared I won’t be enough.”

“Cara, look at me,” Hawk said, as he lifted her chin up. “I don’t wanna be with any other woman but you. All those other women were for fucking, and you’re more than that. Do you wanna know something? You’re the only woman who has ever spent the night with me. After I fucked, I’d throw the slut’s ass outta my bed unless she was dead-drunk, and then I’d throw her ass out when she woke up. You mean something to me.” He kissed her deeply. “You have to trust me,” he murmured against her lips.

“I want to. I really do.” She kissed him back.

A knock on the door interrupted their intimate moment. Hawk opened it, and Banger motioned for him to come out. Stepping out in the hallway, Hawk closed the door behind him.

“Jax called. Looks like the fuckers aren’t movin’ the women ’til tomorrow. I told him we’re sending ten brothers down early morning, and I need you to go with them,” Banger said.

“Okay. What time do we leave?”

“One thirty.”

Hawk nodded, his jaw tight. He went back into his room.

“What’s going on?” Cara asked.

“Club business. I feel like a steak. Do you want to go out to dinner?”

“Are you asking me on a date?”

“No, I’m not. I’m asking if you want to get a steak.”
What the hell is she talking about?
I never fuckin’ date.

“Sorry to inform you, but that’s called a date.”

“No, it isn’t. Do you want to go, or not?”

“Are you asking anyone else to go with us?”

“No.”

“Are you paying?”

“Yeah. What kind of question is that?”

“You’re asking me to a restaurant, right?”

“Yeah. What’s with the cross-examination, counselor?”

“It’s a date. You’re asking me on a date,” Cara said smugly, her green eyes sparkling.

He looked hard at her.
She’s an impossible woman.
“Okay, it’s a date. Do you fuckin’ want to go, or not?”

“Yes, I’d love to go,” she replied, smiling.

“You’re too much, woman. All this bullshit for a steak. Shit.”

Cara giggled.

*     *     *

The Buckhorn Steakhouse
served the best steak in the county, and although it was expensive, it was well worth the price for its melt-in-your-mouth dishes. Linen tablecloths and napkins, rich burgundy leather booths, cherry hardwood floors, lavish Karastan rugs, and two wood-burning fireplaces created an elegant ambiance. After a cold ride on the motorcycle, Cara and Hawk welcomed the warmth of the crackling fire as they entered the restaurant.

Asking for a window seat, the hostess escorted them to a table replete with a shimmering candle encased in crystal. The breathtaking view included the snow-capped peaks of the majestic Rocky Mountains, which signaled winter was right around the corner.

After ordering a beer on draft for him and a vodka martini for Cara, Hawk brought her hand to his mouth and brushed it over his lips then licked and kissed it as he held her gaze. His blue eyes revealed a level of tenderness she had not seen before, and her heart skipped a few beats. Was that love in his eyes? Holding her breath, she bit her lower lip as she averted her eyes to two women seated at the table across from them. The women, in their early twenties, ogled Hawk.
They’re practically drooling.
Hawk, oblivious to everyone but her, caressed Cara’s cheek with his palm. She blushed.

“Why are you acting shy, babe?”

“I don’t know. I guess the vibes you’re giving me are different, that’s all.”

“I’m glad to be with you.”

“On our date?”

“Yeah,
on our date.
”

She stroked his hand. “Me, too.”

Her filet mignon with roasted asparagus spears in a balsamic sherry glaze was excellent; there wasn’t a morsel left on her plate. His Porterhouse steak was enough for a family of four, but he managed to eat every bit of it including the sautéed mushrooms in red wine and the blue cheese scalloped potatoes.

As Cara was drinking her after-dinner liqueur, she noticed Hawk’s gaze focused at the bar. “What are you looking at?”

“Nothing.”

He glanced over a few more times. “Hawk, are you checking out a woman at the bar?”

“No.”

“Who are you looking at?” Twisting around, she expected to see a knockout with big boobs on a barstool.

“Babe, I’m looking at that pansy-ass you went out with. He’s got his tongue halfway down one of my dancers’ throat.”

“Luke?”

“Yeah, that fuckin’ suit.”

Looking toward the bar, Luke’s mouth covered the woman’s who sat on the barstool next to his. He looked like one of those creatures from a cheesy 1950s sci-fi movie. When she was a kid, she and her dad used to watch reruns of the campy movies, and she loved to sit in the dark, eat popcorn her dad had made, and watch the alien monsters devour their victims. Yeah, Luke looked like the Creature—the one with the vacuum mouth who sucked salt from its victims.

God, Luke is such a jerk
. Cara hadn’t spoken to him since the charity ball, and didn’t even care that he had his tongue down the stripper’s mouth and his hand up her skirt.
He’s such an asshole
.

“I told you he was a pansy-ass,” Hawk said.

“You were right. I was never interested in him, anyway.”

“You’re too hot, babe. You need a man to stoke the fire in you,” he said, his voice husky.

On their way out, Hawk guided Cara past Luke. Hawk said, “How are you, Missy?”

Missy pushed Luke away, startled to see Hawk. “Fine, thanks.”