Force: Blacktop Sinners MC (24 page)

“Ricardo?” She asked, and her friend rushed over to her and gave her a quick hug over the tape. “Why do you think Derek was here?”

He sighed and took her hand and nodded as one of the patrol cops let her through under the barrier. “We found his wallet here. We think whoever shot C.J., had set some kind of trap and abducted Derek. There were some marks in the dirt that made it look like he’d been dragged. Since he’s such a big guy, even with an accomplice or two, it’s not surprising that would happen.”

“Damn it! I bet it’s what’s left of the DHC looking for vengeance.”

Ricardo led her to the back side of the salvage yard’s main office and shook his head. “Somehow, I think this runs deeper than that, Tess.”

She frowned but then saw the scrawl taunting her from the walls. “My God.”

The words were brutal, and she had to chew back nausea at them. Whoever had done this wanted both her and Derek to suffer more than even Trent Lachlan had.

If the blonde bitch wants Grinder back, then she has to come to where it all began. Alone
.

“Do you have any idea what that means?”

Her mind made the rapid fire connection, everything coming together easily. The place where this all began was the original warehouse, the one not too far from the woods on the edge of town where Derek had crashed, where this original set up had failed and the switchblade had become so important, at least at first. But who the hell would hold him? Clearly it was the mole, but who was it? Had to be someone who was with him for every step of this, and Derek had been convinced Spike and the rest of his close board were on the level.

Wait, what about?

Oh wow, “brother” her ass.

It was Ron, and he’d clearly been looking to set up Derek in a variety of ways for a long time.

But none of this was anything she could say to Ricardo. There would be no S.W.A.T. team swooping in. There would be no cops and sirens. If she turned to her friends now, then they’d try and do everything above board. Hell, the Sinners still had a loyalty to Derek, she was sure of that after all he’d done. They’d probably have Captain Johnson organize a huge manhunt, one that would only serve to enrage Ron more. She didn’t want him to die, so if Ron wanted something, then she was going to do it.

It was no less than he had already done for her, even if it was a certain trap.

She shook her head and offered her best clueless look for Ricardo. “I have no idea what’s going on, but if it comes to me, you know you’re the first person I’d call.”

And, to be fair, under any other circumstance. In any other situation, that would be beyond true. But for right now, she had to work her hardest to save her boyfriend. No, “boyfriend” was too small a word. Tess was determined to save the man she loved, even if that meant she’d be walking into the lion’s den to do it.

***

Chapter Thirty Nine

“Damn it!” Tess screamed as she pounded her hands against the steering wheel.

Her freaking Honda was as reliable as a Sunday school teacher, but, right now, she couldn’t get the damn thing to start. It was as if whatever deity was supposed to watch after her had started taking a vacation about a week back and hadn’t bothered to tell her. She had to have some way to get to the warehouse, and walking the ten miles wasn’t an option. Derek had taken his truck when he’d been running his errands, and it was still resting in the parking lot of C.J.’s as far as she knew. Trying again, only to be frustrated again by the sputtering, Tess hopped out of her no longer trustworthy car and started to pace.

“Think Tess, think. You can do this.”

Then her gaze fell on the large bike of Derek’s. He’d fixed it up well enough lately, made sure even the formerly dented tail pipes had recovered from his accident. She’d seen him ride out on it at least once, and she’d marveled then that he’d been able to do so well and keep his balance with a set of broken toes on his left foot. Still, there was no way. Her palms were already clammy and she was already feeling the bile rise in her throat.

Motorcycles killed people.

Of course, so did bikers who’d turned traitor.

***

“Now, Sarah, you have to ease off of the throttle like this,” Jason said as he mimicked the situation their sister might face trying to slow and twist around real traffic at a stop light. “The important thing is that bikes accelerate great, but they don’t stop at all. We skid. The easiest thing to do is to let the bike slow on its own, take off the gas, and ease the clutch. You lean your body into the turns too, as if you’re willing yourself around the traffic. Never grab anything in a panic.”

Sara laughed and pushed her strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder. “You’re treating this like it’s some NASA test, some rocket science thing. I’m not jamming on the brake ever, not like some four year old with their first big girl bike.”

“I’m just saying, it’s about trusting the bike to respond and keeping your attention up. We can dart great, but we can’t stop well. You just have to anticipate everything.”

Tess narrowed her eyes back at her brother but forced herself to stay calm as she kept pulling the laundry off the line. Still, she couldn’t resist giving advice. The smarter thing to do would have been to stay silent, but she wasn’t always one who did the smarter things. Hell, if you asked Sarah, she never held her tongue. Damn it, she’d seen more than her fair share of bike riders wheeled through her emergency department. She didn’t want it to be Jason too, but then she’d never been able to convince him over the last six months of what a crazy idea he was nursing. Maybe she never would be. There was no way in hell she wasn’t at least going to try and get Sarah to see reason, though. She didn’t want
both
her siblings risking their necks in search of what? Some cheap thrills? No, that wasn’t acceptable. She couldn’t stand to lose them.

“Maybe Sarah doesn’t want to do this,” she said, folding up a t-shirt and putting it in the basket. It was bright yellow like the sun overhead.

Sarah snorted. “Man, I’ve been jealous of his ‘Born to Be Wild’ lifestyle for the last few months. I’m excited to learn.”

Tess shook her head again and set her hands on her hips. “Jas, you know this isn’t safe. I’m not dumb enough to fall for this, but do you really need to drag Sarah into this? I don’t think you do.”

He glared at her and hopped off the bike instantly, and she knew she’d already managed to stoke his rage. “I don’t know, Sis, but you sure seem to have that ever present stick crammed far up your ass. It’s fun, and Sarah at least wants to have some.” He was stomping back into the house, and soon their sister was chasing after him.

God, if only he’d listen…

***

Tess was scared.

This was her only option and, thank God, she’d paid attention to the lessons she’d watched Jason give Sarah. She knew rationally that you had to learn riding a motorcycle the same way you had to learn to drive---by actually practicing the motions and doing everything until it was committed to kinesthetic memory. There were no other options. Still, she had an idea of how to get it started and how not to fall off. It would get her the ten miles she needed.

At least that’s what she was telling herself.

She shoved Derek’s helmet on her head and hoped it would stay tight enough. After all, he had a bigger head than she. She’d put on her thickest pair of jeans, a pair of leather winter gloves and a long shirt. It was also the best concessions she could make to road rash, even if she wished to hell she had a leather jacket of her own. Tess moved the clutch and then started the throttle. The bike was massive and roared to life under her, roaring like a damn lion between her thighs. Hell, if it weren’t a girl, she’d argue that it should be called “Simba” from here on out. She eased off of the brake, and it slid forward so fast that she almost fell.

No, gradual, everything slow like Jas said.

She needed to refrain from sudden movements.

Taking a deep breath, she eased the monster to life and sped out of her driveway and onto the road running by her duplex. The wind whipped around her, and she couldn’t hear much, not that she needed to on a quiet Friday afternoon like this one. She leaned into the curves as she merged onto a bigger thoroughfare, and then she understood. She wasn’t sure this would ever be her life, but she was beginning to understand everything better. The sense of freedom, of
power
, pouring through her veins. She wasn’t whipping around cars or speeding at all, but merely going along like everyone else. It didn’t matter. With the hog thrumming underneath her and the open road before her, she felt like a goddess.

Eat your hearts out, Thelma and Louise
.

The warehouse came up faster than she’d have realized. Tess wasn’t sure what the plan was at all. As she moved the hog into position beside the alley, she eased off of it. All she had as far as weapons went---and she’d never been a violent person ever---was a scalpel from work. It was hidden in her right palm, and she hoped to God she wouldn’t have to use it. She started to slip off the helmet but thought better of it. It might not be police issue or anything that fancy or amazing, but she figured extra protection around her skull would come in handy.

Swallowing and holding up her shoulders high, forcing herself to command a poise and confidence she didn’t feel, Tess strode into the warehouse. Her jaw dropped at the sight before her. Derek was tied to a chair, and he’d been beaten a bit. His left eye was swollen shut, and his breathing was labored. Ron stood there, his red hair bristling and eyes wide. His gun was trained on Derek’s torso, and his lip turned up in a feral snarl when he saw her enter.

“So this is your family now, right
brother
?”

“Tess, what the hell are you doing?” Derek asked, his tone desperate.

She shrugged, but kept her arms at her side. Her visor was up so she could make contact with him, with those gentle brown eyes that she’d grown to love as much as the rest of Derek. “You came for me. You can’t really expect me to do any less for you. I’d never do anything less for you.”

He nodded and then turned his focus to Ron. “Just let her leave, please. She hasn’t done anything to you, and she doesn’t deserve this, not one goddamn bit.”

Ron shook his head and trained the gun on her instead. “Like I said, you never put me first. I always helped you, always made sure people in juvie stayed off of you. Then when it came time to join the Sinners, I worked hard to make sure that you had your bike fixed up. You struggled so much to get it finished up.”

“True, and I did appreciate it. I appreciated it every time you got me out of a tough scrape. I appreciated everything you did to help me and our fellow brothers. I don’t know how you could tell me that I don’t care.”

“You told me that she’s all you need. You never fought hard enough with Spike to get me on the actual board. I did all the damn grunt work and don’t get any of the fringe benefits from it. There’s no extra patch on my cut. I do a fuck ton more than Bones or Bullet, but they get the free beers from Trixie and the pats on the back from everyone else. I’m sick to death of being the slave around here, and you get to be the Great Grinder. Well, the Great Grinder got set up, and I’m the one who did it.”

“Great, you out maneuvered me, perfect,” Derek said, his voice calm. “You don’t want to kill me, brother, and I know you don’t have any interest in getting the cops on you for Tess’s sake.”

Ron’s arm shook as he clenched the gun in his right hand. Flecks of spit came from his mouth as well. “You never knew me, and that’s the fucking point! I admit that I like to do things more intimately, more one-on-one. There’s something more pleasing about the crunch of bone under my fist. But I’ve done it other ways too,” he said, grinning between both of them. It was an expression that Tess knew would be haunting her nightmares for years to come if she survived this day. “I had a great bit of fun just because I could, cutting off some idiot preppy kid on a bike about five years ago. Sometimes, you just got to get your murder on.”

She froze.

Five years ago.

Jason had always ridden in his own style, outside of the leather jacket. Dad had teased him more than once about the idiocy of khakis on a motorcycle.

That was it. There was something building through her, consuming her utterly, a fire and a rage she never knew she could feel. As Ron raised his gun, she rushed forward. He shot once into Derek’s gut, but she was on him before he could take the second shot. She had the surprise on him, the sudden shock. It was the few seconds she needed to plunge the scalpel into his throat. Blood, thick and red, sprayed from his neck, and she felt it splash to her shirt. He gurgled and grabbed his throat, then sunk to the concrete below.

For a few long and agonizing seconds, his legs twitched and eyes rolled back in his head. Then Ron was still, and Tess realized that he’d be still forever. She felt no relief at that thought, even after what he’d managed to do to Derek or after what he’d done to Jason. She just felt cold, even if it wasn’t that in the warehouse and she had the long-sleeved shirt on, Tess felt cold. She’d spent her entire adult life saving lives.

She’d never taken one before today.

And she couldn’t even feel badly about it, just the cold, almost reptilian certainty that he’d deserved it.

After all, Ron had hurt the men she loved most in her life, and he’d do it again, had said as much. She stood up and shook her head down at his corpse. “I hope you rot in hell.”

A cough gathered her attention, remembering that Derek was there and the horrific sight of the bullet entering his stomach, she rushed forward to him. She worked as fast she could to untie his bonds, but still felt awkward and foolish. Her hands slid on the ropes, already covered with sticky blood, and she hoped it was just Derek’s, that it was something she’d gotten stuck on her while trying to save him. She knew that wasn’t true. She was a murderer now, and she had Ron’s blood on her hands both literally and figuratively, even if the world was a damn better place without that rat in it.

She knelt low and pulled up the hem of Derek’s shirt and winced. The bullet had entered his lower left side, and that was a blessing. At least his appendix and gall bladder hadn’t been hit to cause extra internal damage. “God, this isn’t good.” Whipping out her cell phone, she dialed 911 and barked out the address. The operator, Carole, who knew her well actually and had the best Halloween parties in town, was buzzing in her ear. Tess was only half paying attention, but she needed the contact, the anchor to the real world.

Reaching up with her free hand, she pressed a hand to his cheek. “Derek, please, just stay with me.”