Glory (30 page)

I sat there momentarily dumbfounded by his words. Knuckle dished out pain, rarely praise. Gratitude was not something I was expecting from the prez of Glory MC. “I was just trying to help.”

Knuckle snorted. “Modest words coming from a girl who ran into a blazing fire shortly after an explosion. You’re brave.”

Hastie stiffened beside me before leaning over the table. “You told me she helped, not that she ran into the fire!” He flipped his anger on me. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“Settle down, Hastie. She isn’t as fragile as you think she is. I’ve seen that for myself.”

Hastie shook his dark head, reining in his temper as he took a deep, calming breath. He was only doing that because he cared about me. “It’s okay,” I assured him. “I wasn’t hurt.”

“You could’ve been.”

“But I wasn’t.”

“She wasn’t,” Knuckle repeated in a tone that said
drop it
.

“You should have seen me though. I was pretty badass.”

His lips curled, revealing a sexy smile. “Is that so?”

“Oh yes.”

“Next time you try out your superwoman talents, you just let me know.”

“Cut the crap,” Knuckle barked. “I need to be briefed on the past week’s events. Then we have to make some arrangements for our fallen brethren.” Just like that, the pleasant feelings of being reunited with Hastie dissipated and I was once again reminded of our losses.

Glory’s losses,
I corrected myself with a second thought. I had somehow integrated myself into the club without formal invitation. Even now I didn’t know why I was here. After the explosion, members were taken to Neptune’s to receive care. No one had told me to leave. Kitt and Knuckle were actually very accommodating.

Despite the deaths of members looming over us, or perhaps because of it, Glory MC felt more like a family than my own blood did to me. Knuckle turned to Hastie, eyes going dark. “How about you tell me what you ended up doing with Brennan?” There was a knock on the door, causing Knuckle to growl at the interruption. “What?” he barked.

Kitt poked his head through. He was sporting a blank bandana over his hair today. It made him look dangerous and intimidating paired with all his tattoos. “Look who wanted to visit,” he drawled as he pushed the door wide open, revealing a brightly smiling blond in a wheelchair.

“Thought you were done with me?” Lucky said jovially as Kitt wheeled him in. He looked better than when he was first brought in. For one, all the blood and grime was gone. His leg was propped up, bandaged at the moment as it still wept when he moved. His color wasn’t exactly there yet, but his joking around meant that at least he was feeling better. Lucky often used humor as a way to diffuse tension or handle stress. That he was out of bed with a smile on his face told me that he was once again braving the hellish world, but I caught a wince that crossed over his expression right before he turned his amused gaze on me. “Aw, Lady of the Year is here,” he said smartly. “Look at you, getting all kinds of praise. Are your lips tired from all that ass kissing?”

Oh, he was definitely back.
Rolling my eyes, I shot Lucky the bird. “Don’t be jealous, honey. You’ll have your job back in no time.”

Lucky laughed. “Damn right I am. Someone here needs to be the golden boy.”

When Hastie’s voice cut in, it was hard and unrelenting. “What the hell are you doing out of bed? You were just in an accident!”

“Come on. It’s been a week and I’m going fucking insane lying there with nothing to do.”

“He is,” Kitt agreed. “He won’t stop begging me to bring him here. I just did it to shut him up.” And then he was gone, shutting the door behind him.

Hastie gave one shake of his head and got up. “I’m taking you back to rest.”

Lucky kissed his teeth. “I’ll rest when I’m dead.” I winced. His words were cutting a little too close to reality.

“I’m just looking out for you, bro.”

“And I appreciate it too, but I’m alive. That’s more than I can say for some of my brothers. So,” he said, giving Hastie a meaningful look that told him to drop it. “What are we talking about?”

Knuckle cleared his throat. “We were just about to discuss the past week’s events. I want to know what you saw,” he said to Lucky. “And whatever sick and twisted thing you did to Brennan,” he directed at Hastie.

“Did you kill him?” I asked.

Hastie’s green eyes met mine. When he gave me a slow nod, I saw the predator lurking in his eyes.

“Where’s the body?” Knuckle asked.

Hastie broke eye contact first and gazed at his father. “It’s likely in the Sandy Plains where I left him.”

My eyes widened. I suspected that was what happened but hearing Hastie admit to it set me back a bit. Knuckle, on the other hand, didn’t miss a beat. “And what of the other?” The man who Brennan had made a deal with.

Hastie gave a short shake of his head. Both father and son slid their gaze simultaneously to Lucky. “They split the second they got the chance,” he reported grimly. “I went in pursuit of Brennan and, well . . . you know the rest.”

“Fuck.” Knuckle ran his fingers roughly through his hair.

“But I do know who the motherfucker is,” Lucky continued. Everyone in the room perked up. “He’s a Phantom. They’re ruled by the Cavezza brothers and this guy, Anthony, is their leader.”

“What the hell is a Phantom?” I asked.

“The Phantoms are a criminal syndicate whose common enterprise is protection racketeering.” His shoulders lifted in a shrug. “My guess is that he coerced Brennan into buying “protection” since he needed firearms to protect him from Ward Seven. When we refused the trade, he went to Anthony, but tangled himself into a bigger web.” My gut clenched with each of the blond’s words. “The thing is, there’s no coming back from dealing with the Phantoms. They are virtually everywhere, yet you hardly see them.”

How ever much Brennan was paying for protection, it clearly wasn’t enough since he was currently lost in the Sandy Plains. No human could survive the heat there. Dead by dehydration was a slow, painful death.

“Fuck me,” Knuckle cursed as the gravity of the situation settled over us.

“So basically we are dealing with the equivalent of the mafia.”

Lucky grinned at my comparison. “Yeah. But worse. At least the mafia has a boss and an underboss, people they take orders from. The Phantoms just do as they please. It could mean a lot of trouble for us.”

“He’s seen you, Hastie,” Lucky continued when he faced his best friend. “And he’s out for blood. You better watch yourself when you’re alone.” Lucky tipped his chin in my direction. “You, too. Brennan knew about you, it’s reasonable to assume Anthony does too.”

Anxiety twisted inside of me with Lucky’s words. Hastie shot me a dark look. The murderous stare wasn’t for me, but the protective gleam was. Would Hastie really kill someone just to protect me? Goose bumps sprouted all over my arms and the back of my neck. If this Anthony Cavezza really was as deadly as Lucky claimed him to be, we would need to find this ghost before he could find us.

TWENTY- FIVE

Motherfuckin’ Badass

Hastie

I
took Indy home and did all I could not to just flop like a dead body onto the bed. The recent events had exhausted me. Low on food and sleep, I knew I had to get refueled soon before I’d be useful to the club again.

We sat at the kitchen table now, eating. To an outsider, I think we would have looked a little like the white picket fence variety if not for the way we had just come back from a few long days steeped in sweat and blood.

Indy took a bite out of her chicken and chewed quickly, no doubt feeling starved after the long day. “Sorry,” I said around a mouthful of the takeout. “Too tired for small talk.”

Her smile was bright and cheery despite our low energy levels. From the looks of it, Indy was handling the harder parts of Glory MC better than I was. “I’m exhausted, too,” she admitted.

“You can sleep here.”

“Thank you.”

Despite how physically tired I was, my mind still worried over Indy. Her skin looked transparent and that bump on her head had to be routinely checked to make sure it wasn’t serious. My father had said she had hit it hard on the asphalt when the initial blast happened. I wanted to make sure she was going to be okay. I passed over another chicken wing to her. “Eat that.”

Indy didn’t miss a beat, taking it, and chomping right into it like the carnivore she was. Swallowing, she followed that down with a swig from her soda. Then she burped. Loudly. “Sorry,” she said sheepishly.

I chuckled as I brought my beer to my mouth. She wasn’t censoring herself around me anymore. That was a good thing. It made me believe that she’d be more likely to share her thoughts with me if something was bothering her. I had worked hard on tearing down those walls she had built around herself like a prison. Making sure those barriers stayed down required patience and trust, but it was a challenge I’d take on willingly now that I was beginning to understand her more. Indy had come so far already by telling me about her disorder. I wouldn’t give her a reason to regret it. “I admire you, you know. You’re pretty fearless.” It was something I had seen in her before, but never said out loud until now.

Indy stilled, seeming to be embarrassed by the praise. “No. I’m not.”

“You are. Christ, Indy, you don’t see it. But I do. I still can’t believe what you did. Running into a fire? That shit you pulled was dangerous.”

“I’m fine.”

“I know. And I’m hella impressed about that. Do you know how strong you have to be to go through all that and still be standing here? Fuck, some of my brothers didn’t even make it out alive.”

She took a sip from her soda again, trying to look unaffected, but I could see her blush spreading across her neckline. “I just did what I had to do to help.”

She was a fucking saint. If it weren’t for her, Glory MC would have suffered worse than we already had. And here she was acting as if she ran into fires daily. I stared at her in awe. Then snorted.

“What’s so funny?”

“I shoot bullets to intimidate. If I go down, I have my brothers to back me up. You’ve been alone so long that you don’t even realize how hard it is to still be standing. No one’s a bigger motherfuckin’ badass than you are, babe.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You’re fucking crazy.”

“No,
you are
,” I shot back. It was a risk to say those words and I could tell by the surprise in her eyes that no one had ever joked around about her disorder. But maybe it was time someone did. Why avoid something that would always be a part of you? Why let it weigh you down when you could make light of it? “I wish I were half as badass as you are.”

Indy leaned in, smiling. “Then you’ll have to be half as crazy as I am.”

“I am, baby,” I told her. “I’m crazy about you.”

She laughed outright. “Smooth, Hastie. Real fucking smooth. Is that a line to try to get me in your bed?”

“Don’t need any lines, baby. I’ll give you that ride you’ve be needing.” Her cheeks flushed and I grinned with satisfaction at having affected her. “Ready for bed?”

“Mind if I shower first? I’d like to wash the sweat off.”

What was the point? I’d only be adding to it. But being the gentleman that I was I said, “Go for it.” While she hit the shower, I pushed off from the table, hooking a finger around the neck of the bottle and downed the last of my beer. The dishes I made quick work of, tossing them in the sink to wash later when I wasn’t so dead on my feet.

As I approached the bedroom, I could hear Indy humming softly beneath the spray of the water. She had left the bathroom door open. A blatant invitation if I ever saw one.

Standing in the doorway gave me a glimpse of her silhouette through the fogged up glass. My mind could easily picture her wet, slick body.

This woman was one of a kind, a priceless artifact that I’d been in search of my entire life. I had no clue how I’d come to get so lucky, or how a woman like her felt like she needed to hide herself from the world because of who she was.

The fogged up glass between us couldn’t fool me. I saw her for who she really was. I meant what I said back at the table. It took brass balls to pull off what she had. Indy often thought herself to be inferior to others, but the girl had it all wrong. She was fearless. Strong. Independent. And so goddamn beautiful, it made my chest hurt to think about it. I wish she wouldn’t doubt her own worth so much.

Indy had just finished washing her hair and was now lathering up her body. She didn’t even cover herself up from my hungry gaze. Instead she shot me a come-hither smile that I couldn’t deny. I stripped quickly, removing my clothes in a trail to meet her.

“I was wondering if you were going to join me,” she drawled as I gripped her waist and stepped into the hot spray of water. In seconds, I was drenched.

“You looking at me like that is gonna get you into trouble.”

She smiled and began running her soapy hands all over my body. “I like a little trouble now and then.” There was no trace of worry or uncertainty in her eyes. Just firm confidence. I pushed her away slightly and the spark of mischief in her eyes told me she had caught on. “Are you looking to get blown?” Her voice was teasing, almost as maddening as the feel of her hands working their way down my body towards my erection. The second she palmed my cock with her soapy fingers, I groaned loudly. “All you have to do is ask.”

All right then. “I want to feel your mouth around me.”

Indy dipped her head and ran her pink tongue along the underside of my cock. Her fingers grasped the base of my cock firmly, pumping me where her mouth couldn’t reach. The feel of her hot mouth taking me in caused my body to seize up. “Fuck,” I grated, too stunned for words.

When I combed my fingers through her tangled wet hair, gripping at the roots to fuck her mouth, her eyes shot up to meet mine. And then Indy did something that totally surprised me—she winked.

The little brat winked at me!

Chuckling at her bravado, I gave a hard thrust and felt her throat muscles constrict around me. She took my cock like a pro, sucking hard every time I pulled out. If she kept this up, I’d blow in seconds.