Lay It Down: Bastards MC Series Boxed Set (26 page)

“Bullfuckingshit!” Cris snarled, turning toward the young woman with him. “Do you have any idea what a monster he is?” She was screaming, and Carlos’s arm came out to block her from getting closer to the girl. “Did you know that he beat his girlfriend so badly this time that she’s gonna be blind? That the fucka you’re with took a pipe to her in front of their kids while they were begging him to stop?”

Carlos grabbed Cris and shook her hard. The hair on my arms rose, and I moved toward them, realizing suddenly that ten or fifteen men had appeared out of nowhere and they were looking around as if making sure no one interfered with this horrible scene. Cris swore at the man holding her then spit in his face. He raised his hand and slapped her hard.

She stumbled backward.
Fuck him
. With an inaudible scream, I lunged forward, trying to get to her. She was quick though and was on her feet, throwing a blow back at the man who had struck her. Fingers closed on my arm, biting into my skin painfully, and I shoved at the stranger who’d grabbed me. He let go, looking at me with a hungry smile as if I was the mouse that had walked into the cats’ convention. Warning bells screamed in my head, and I backed away from him quickly.

He had taken one step toward me when an elbow came out of nowhere, catching me in the side of the face. The impact spun me around in time to see another man punch Cris. She fell to her knees and, in a move that gave credit to her training, aimed a fist right at Carlo’s nuts. He doubled over.

A pair of arms grabbed me, lifting my legs off the ground. I started to struggle. If these men would beat on two girls in public, they would do much worse behind closed doors. But it was Matty’s voice I heard.

He was yelling at someone, telling them, “Get her the fuck out of here! Now!”

Familiar black jackets seemed to be everywhere as a brawl erupted in front of me. I saw glimpses—Rob kicking someone on the floor, Dean taking a punch but coming right back with one of his own—but I didn’t see Matty anywhere. The voice near my ear was talking loudly, telling me everything would be okay, that we’d be outside soon. I was stunned and didn’t fight the hands that gripped me tight as I was carried outside.

As soon as we were away from the mob of people, he set me down and turned me toward him. I only had a second to register that it was Ian before his arms came around me, hugging me tightly, trying to offer me comfort.

He pulled away, holding my face between his hands, moving it toward the light. “It isn’t split, but you’re gonna have a wicked fat lip.” He shook his head. “Fuckin’ cowahd bastahd.” He looked back at the door, flexing his fist as if he wanted to be inside. “I hope they fuckin’ kick him in the teeth for me.” He sighed. “You okay otha than that?”

I nodded. “Are they gonna be all right?”

He looked back at me, smirking. “The guys? Yeah.” He nodded. “And Cris’ll be fine too. She’s fuckin’ tough. I’ve seen her beat people bloody in the ring.” Sounds of the fight echoed into the lot, and he tensed.

“You don’t have to wait here with me. I’m fine.”

Ian chuckled. “Mateo would kill me if I left you all by yourself. Not—” He broke off as a siren screeched in the distance. He tensed. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!”

I grabbed his hand, terrified of what was happening.

He squeezed back. “It’ll be okay.”

Twelve cruisers squealed to a stop on the street and around the parking lot, and police officers swarmed the club. I was shaking, from either the temperature contrast or nerves, and Ian pulled me close. Ripping off his leather, he put it around my shoulders, and I mindlessly put my arms through the holes.

"I've gotta get you outta here." He started to pull me toward the bikes.

"No, I…” My teeth chattered. “I work with the police on a regular basis. We have to stay and tell them what happened."

He stopped walking and gave me the once-over. "You normally look like that when you're working with 'em?"

I felt my face flush as I realized he was right.

"Come on. Before they see us," he said.

I'd never ridden a bike other than with Matty. Ian's looked a lot meaner, and I hesitated, but then I lifted a leg over and huddled into his back.

23

He parked in the basement and moved me to the elevator quickly. I had a second to realize that Matty was right. It was eerie down here. I half expected some sort of mythical being to jump out and attack us. Ian grabbed a spare fob from its hiding spot, then we were upstairs. He swept me up into his arms and carried me off the elevator to the couch, as if I was some helpless pathetic girl who had just swooned. I bit back my resentment.

"Thanks for bringing me back." I sighed as I kicked off the heinous shoes and tucked my feet under me, leaning back into the pillows. "But you don't have to hover. I'm fine."

He shrugged, leaning against the island, facing me and crossing his arms over his chest. Sleeves of tattoos covered each arm, and I was surprised I hadn’t noticed them earlier. The left arm held a large black tribal design, very similar to Matty’s, ending a few inches below his elbow. The right arm also lacked color and was filled with words and pictures that I couldn’t make out, ending abruptly at his wrist. He adjusted, and I suddenly remembered I was still wearing his jacket. Leaning forward, I shrugged out of the warm leather and held it out to him. He stepped forward, took it, and draped it over a chair. I stared at the picture on the jacket.

"It's Itus.” Seeing my confusion, he sighed, tugged on his jeans a little, and sank onto the couch next to me. “The Greek God of protection. He was a mortal man, a good man. He didn’t lie, didn’t steal, and his skills with a sword were unmatched. Apollo chose him to be his protector, gave him two new swords to slay the wicked—those who would do harm to others. Later, Zeus made Itus a God so he could spend eternity protecting the innocent.” He looked back at the jacket. “That’s what we do.”

I almost couldn’t speak. “Slay the wicked?”

He laughed. “No. Protect the innocent.” He looked back at me.

“So you’re like a real gang? It’s not pretend?”

He raised an eyebrow. “We’re not a gang. But yeah, we’re a real club.” His eyes searched my face. “You don’t know much about Mateo, do you?” His tone was curious, not snide.

I thought I did. I knew what he was thinking before he did most days. I knew all his favorites, from movies to quotes to food. I knew his expressions, his body language, and now every part of his body. But Ian was right; this weekend had proved that I didn’t really know him that well. What else was he hiding?

I shook my head, sighing. “Not the version you know.”

He gave me a sharp look, glancing at my ring. “We all have secrets, Joey. Sometimes we keep the most important ones, the ones we hate about ourselves or the ones that we know no one will understand, hidden away from the people we love. We’re afraid that if they knew the truth, they’d leave. Or worse, if they see who we really are, they won’t love us anymore.”

I wanted to laugh. He couldn’t be older than his early twenties, but this kid had serious insight. “That’s a great reason to hide, isn’t it?”

His eyes searched mine. “Fuck yeah. Especially if it’s someone you’ve loved for a long time. Until you know for sure they’re not gonna run away.”

I nodded. I wasn’t running.

Ian helped me pass the time by telling me stories of his girlfriend, Ellie. She was a school teacher for a local public school, and according to him, a “truly good girl.” When he talked about her, his cheeks twitched as he fought the smile she brought to his face. He finally let his guard down and beamed when he showed me pictures of her on his phone, informing me that she was too good for him, but that she loved him anyway. His happiness was contagious, and I felt as if I not only knew her but I liked her when he was done.

The early light of dawn was hitting the city when the boys started to trickle in. We congregated in the kitchen/living room, making cup after cup of coffee, checking cell phones repeatedly, trying to kill time with small talk. The current of worry that ran around the room was terrifying, even though they all tried to mask it with jokes. I hadn’t bothered to change, sure that if I went downstairs, I’d miss out if news came.

Rocker didn’t come home until the sun was burning down, warming the city. He looked like hell. Exhaustion was etched in every line of his face, with a cut above his left eye, knuckles raw and bloody. He looked around, as if doing a mental count, then he demanded information on Cris, Tiny, and Matty. No one had heard anything.

They’d all been held at the station, detained for questioning. Rob thought he’d been the last one there, going over the details again and again. I got the feeling that it wasn’t the first time he’d been through this. Then I remembered where he’d met Matty and realized it really wasn’t the first time. Looking over the ragtag bikers who, with the exception of Ian, were all sporting bruises of some sort, it dawned on me that it certainly wouldn’t be the last either.

Rob leaned on the back of the couch, looking down at me, and asked about my injuries. After he was sure I was okay, he sighed. “Not quite the night you expected, eh? I—” His voice broke off as Tiny walked through the door.

Tiny tipped his head backward. “They’re right behind me.” His usually pleasant face was tense, and he looked wary.

Rocker nodded, standing up. “Go home. We’ll talk later.”

There was a rumble of agreement as all four of the men who had kept me company all night stood and headed for the stairs.

Tiny didn’t move, looking from me to Rob. “He’s pissed. Angrier than I’ve seen him in years. Providence pissed.”

Rocker stiffened but didn’t say anything. Those two obviously knew something I didn’t.

“Maybe I should stay.” Tiny’s eyes rested on me again.

“No.”

Without any further explanation from Rocker, Tiny nodded once and followed the rest down the stairs.

I didn’t have a chance to ask before I heard the ding of the elevator. Cris came limping into the room, and Matty was hot on her heels. Seeing me, he hesitated for just a small moment, then he strutted over to the couch. Grabbing me and pulling me up, he gave me a giant, tight hug.

He moved back, looking over my face. “How sore is it?”

I wanted to tell him it wasn’t bad and that I was fine. One look at him though, and I lost all words and started bawling. I lifted my hands, touching his very red, very swollen eye as gently as I could, then moved my fingers down to the dried blood under his nose. “You’re hurt!”

His lip looked much worse than mine, and when he smiled at me, he winced. “This? This ain’t nothin’, honey. As long as you’re okay, I’m okay.” He smirked, wincing again. “Jesus, Joes, when I saw that guy hit you… I… fuck!” His hands ran through my hair gently, and he bent down, pulling my forehead to his. “I could have killed him! I should have been with you, not halfway across the fuckin’ bar. I am so sorry, Joes!”

Then his mouth was on mine, rough and claiming. It wasn’t painful to me, but I tasted blood and knew his lip had cracked again. I pushed him away, intending to get him a cold pack.

He looked over my head at Rob. "Where the fuck were you? You said you had eyes on her!" I watched Matty's face transform from worried boyfriend into a rage-filled maniac.

"Back off, Mateo!” Cris jumped in before Rocker had a chance to speak. “I knew it… I fuckin’ knew you had him creepin’ us! We’re not kids, and I don't need a fuckin' babysitter."

Matty turned on her. She was leaning on the counter, obviously exhausted, but she adjusted herself under his glare.

"You fucking happy? Don’t you ever get tired of causing trouble?”

She straightened, ready for a fight, her voice ice cold. “What?” Her eyes grew dangerously wide. “I didn’t do anything you wouldn’t have done! That jerk should be in jail, not out partying it up like—”

Matty interrupted. “We had it under control, Crissia! When are you gonna learn to fucking back off and let us handle shit!”

Cris narrowed her eyes. “You knew he was going to be there? You fucking knew!” She threw her hands in the air, exasperated. “I don’t know why I didn’t realize. You in town, the boys all here, agreeing to go to the club… you were on a job!”

"Carlos isn't a job! He's a goddamned menace who hurt someone we love! We wanted him to know…" Matty broke off and took two steps toward her, and for a minute, I almost stopped him. He was so intimidating, his rage pouring off him, that I worried for his sister. “Jo was there! You confronted him with Jo right there! You should have come got us. It doesn’t matter if we knew he was there or not; when you see scum, you back up. Plain and simple. You don’t fuckin’ attack someone like Carlos alone!” He raked his fingers through his hair. “What would you have done if he’d pulled a knife or a gun? I can’t—”

"Matt." The warning tone came from Rocker.

My breath caught as two sets of bright blue eyes turned toward me, glaring. I knew they were looking at the man behind me, but a shiver ran down my spine just the same. Matty turned back to Cris, and suddenly they were yelling at each other again.