Torched: Afterburn (Iron Serpents Motorcycle Club Book 2) (10 page)

And from the pan to the fire, apparently. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. Hurry up, this one bites.”

I sighed and shook my head. “I really don’t have time for this, but fine… Sadie, stay and do whatever it is you do around here. Lulu, go home. You can come back tomorrow after you apologize to Sadie and promise not to start dumb shit again.”

Lulu whined, “But she—”

Biff covered her mouth. “You heard her, right?” He waited for her to nod before letting go.

I got off Sadie and helped her up. “Don’t lower yourself to this shit,” I implored. “Save your battles for when they actually mean something. If you have a problem, walk away and come talk to me since it’s apparently”—I rolled my eyes at Biff—“
my
job
.
”

He smiled and guided Lulu to the door. “Come on, Lu. Time to go.”

She shot a snotty look back over her shoulder.

“Hey,” Biff snapped, “that better not have been meant for Livia. You show her some fucking respect.”

“It was for the other one,” she snarled.

“Make it the day after tomorrow,” I told her.

Ugh. Crazy bitches, all of them. Buddha and I would be having a discussion about this when they got back from their run.

And great, now I was even more late. I texted Milo, grabbed my shit, and jogged out of the clubhouse before getting held up by some other pointless foolery.

: 8 :

| TORCH |

A waitress carrying beer and tequila shots appeared at their table on the patio of a bar in Albuquerque. Torch was tired as shit, hot as shit, and annoyed as shit for not taking Liv up on her offer of floating the club some cash. As much as he loved long rides, following a slow flatbed down a not-so-scenic highway pretty much took the thrill out of it.

Overdoing it the night before hadn’t helped much either, looking around he could tell he wasn’t the only one dragging ass. The fact that they were at a bar next to their motel instead of riding two blocks up to a titty bar spoke for itself. The only one who didn’t seem to mind was Gauge, which was probably because he’d driven the truck in air-conditioned comfort. Or maybe he was just happy to get away from his woman for a night, she seemed to be stressing him out a lot lately.

Gauge slid him a shot and leaned back in his chair with a content sigh. “Enjoy the nonstop pussy and happy household while you can, brother. Trust me, one of these days you’ll live for these runs.”

Torch slammed the tequila back and smirked. “Dana’s nipping at your balls again, huh?”

“Man, she’s been driving me up the fucking wall. I have no clue what crawled up her ass this time.”

“You’re obviously doing something wrong, dude,” Mace chimed in. “Torch’s old lady fucks him up
against
walls, the way it should be.” He looked back at Torch and grinned. “Speaking of, I heard Grimm caught you two in the act. How’s your ass, brother? I saw you squirming on the ride.”

Gauge groaned. “Oh, come on, he’s fine. Liv probably held ice on it all night.”

Torch lit a cigarette and chuckled. “She totally fucking did.”

“Like I said, enjoy it.”

“I plan to.” He looked over at Buddha, who was being way too quiet for comfort. The man looked like he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open. “You good, man?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “It’s just been too long of a day running on a couple hours of sleep. Think I’m gonna call it a night, boys. Gauge, you can head back with the truck whenever you feel like it in the morning. I was gonna swing by Santa Fe on the way back if the rest of you don’t mind. Just a quick stop. I’ve got a buddy there I haven’t seen in a while.”

“Yeah, sure,” Torch agreed. “It’s what, sixty miles? Let’s take off around nine, we’ll grab some food while you go see your friend.”

Buddha stood up and nodded. “Sounds good. Good night, brothers.”

“Night,” they all answered.

“Alright… What the fuck’s going on with him?” Gauge asked, as soon as the boss was out of earshot.

Mace frowned. “No idea but he looks like hell. Torch, has he said anything to you?”

He shook his head. “I tried talking to him about it a couple days ago, just said he hasn’t been sleeping much.”

“You buying it?” Gauge asked.

“Not really.”

Mace swirled his beer and furrowed his brow. “Maybe he’s just stressed about finances.”

“Could be,” Torch mumbled, though he knew there was more to it. Well, he didn’t really know, but he did have a pretty strong gut feeling—the sinking kind—and his intuition had always worked to his advantage. As soon as they got home, he was getting to the bottom of whatever was eating at Buddha. Whether the man liked it or not, he was the president, and the right to keep personal shit to himself went away the minute it started affecting the club. At the rate Buddha was going with the constant exhaustion, spending less and less time at the clubhouse, and his mind obviously somewhere else, that was bound to happen at any minute.

: : : :

An overcast sky provided some much-needed relief from the heat on their way back to Colorado. They’d left Gauge behind with the truck in Albuquerque—he wasn’t exactly in a hurry to get home—and made a stop in Santa Fe for Buddha to go see his buddy. For somebody who’d gone to bed before nine the night before, he didn’t look any more rested than he had at the bar.

Torch was getting more worried by the hour, the more he thought about it, the less sense Buddha’s excuses made. Insomnia? He doubted it. The truth was the man looked sick, and it would be just like Buddha to keep a health issue from the rest of the club so they wouldn’t make a big deal out of it.

Along with cooler temperatures, the freedom to go over the speed limit was making for a much more enjoyable ride, not to mention what was waiting for him at home. This had been his first overnight run away from Liv, the first time he could experience what it was like to have a reason to hurry back. He didn’t give a shit if it made him sound like a pussy-whipped bitch, the feeling was fucking fantastic. Sore ass and all.

Light drops of rain started hitting his face just south of the New Mexico-Colorado state line. He looked up at the sky and over his shoulder. The dark clouds behind them looked vicious, so he signaled for Buddha and Mace to speed up. Traffic was light in both directions of the four-lane highway, and he soon fell into a comfortable groove by keeping his mind on his woman instead of his president.

Noticing a white van up ahead on the shoulder, he signaled again and switched over to the left lane in case it pulled out without seeing them.

It did pull out, but not until they passed, at which point the fucking thing turned into a speed demon and rode up on their asses.

What the fuck?

Buddha scowled over at him. They hit their throttles and moved back over to the right lane to get out of the way. You never knew what was going through a cager’s head and it wasn’t worth getting hit over a pissing contest. He was hoping the van would speed by so they could see the asshole driver’s face, but no luck. It swerved over and pulled up on them again.

Shit, this was obviously more than a pissing contest.

He looked back and saw Mace trying to slow down the van and create a distance between them. But instead of staying behind him, it pulled next to his bike and started moving back over the line, damn near sideswiping his ass.

Fuck, what the hell was he doing?

Mace swerved out of the way and sped up, narrowly avoiding hitting the gravel shoulder. He caught up to Torch and Buddha in seconds.

“Get off at the side road!” Buddha yelled out, referring to an unmarked utility road up ahead.

When the van followed them onto the unpaved road and there wasn’t a doubt left that they were under some kind of attack, Torch downshifted and reached into his cut to pull out his piece. He moved over to the right to let Mace pass and started shooting at the tires to slow down whoever the fuck it was. Unfortunately, he also had to focus on not letting the bike slide out from under him on the dirt, so none of the shots hit their target.

Buddha and Mace pulled their guns and started shooting too.

Next thing he knew, loud pops started coming from the other direction and it was
his
tire that blew, sending the bike spinning and him to the ground.

Buddha and Mace hit their brakes and flipped around, now shooting at the van’s windshield and shattering it. Torch hurriedly swapped magazines and bolted over to his bike, staying as low to the ground as his frame allowed. His downed Harley wouldn’t be much of a shield, but it was better than nothing.

Or not. The van stopped and five men wearing ski masks jumped out—guns blazing—but for some reason, they were shooting at the ground instead of their heads.

What the goddamn
fuck
was going on?

“Hold your fucking fire or you’re all dead!” one of the assholes yelled out.

They didn’t have much of a choice, they were outnumbered and the fuckers were carrying high-capacity AK’s. Three of the masked men split off, each walking over and holding a brother at gunpoint. Mace and Buddha got pulled off their bikes and ordered to the ground.

The two other assailants sauntered over to Torch’s Harley and tore into his leather saddlebags. He had no idea what the hell they were looking for, all he had in there were a few toiletries and dirty clothes from the day before.

Not finding whatever they were after in his, they moved on to Mace’s saddlebags and did the same thing. Same result. Buddha was last, they had to pry his hard-shell cases open with a screwdriver.

One of the men pulled out a black drawstring bag and looked inside. “Got it,” he told his lackeys.

And just like that, they were done. They walked back towards the van, the three who had held them off moving backwards with their guns still trained on them. They jumped in the back, pulled the doors closed, and immediately took off the way they came.

Torch was fucking dumbstruck as he eyed the van and watched it drive away. There were no identifying marks on it and the plate was missing. The only clue as to who the fuckers were was that they’d gotten back on the highway going north, which meant they were either passing through Colorado or based there.

Little good that knowledge would fucking do them though.

He jumped to his feet and jogged over to his brothers. “What the fuck just happened?” he demanded. Neither seemed to have an answer, so he turned his attention to the one who seemed a little more nervous than the other. “What do you know? You look shifty,” he growled at Buddha.

Buddha rubbed his bald head. “I don’t know who those assholes were—”

“Let’s start with what they took. What the fuck was in that bag, man?”

“Torch, it’s not what you think—”

“I don’t know what the fuck to think!” he roared.

Buddha exhaled and stood up. “Gold coins. 1907 Saint-Gaudens Double Eagles in mint condition.”

Torch glared at him. “Coins? Are you fucking serious? We got ambushed over some goddamn
collector
shit?!”

“It was more than some low-level collector shit, twenty-five pieces valued at ten grand each. They only minted twelve thousand that year, it’s a haul.”

“Jesus Christ. What the fuck were you thinking trying to sneak something
worth
a quarter mill without a heads up? If we’d known we could’ve brought more bodies and firepower. Is that why you had to stop in Santa Fe? It was a pick up?

“Yeah,” Buddha murmured.

Torch fisted his hair so hard he could feel strands tearing out of his scalp. “How much fucking cash were you carrying on our way out?”

“A hundred grand. An old friend had to liquidate some assets quick and I lined up a buyer in Denver. He’s a legit collector, the coins weren’t hot or anything. It was just supposed to be a quick flip, pick up in Santa Fe today and drop off in Denver tomorrow.”

“
That
fucking worked out.”

“Son—”

“Don’t fucking
son
me,” Torch cut in, clenching his jaw to stop himself from shattering Buddha’s. Mace was watching with a frown but kept his distance.

“So this was supposed to be some under-the-radar shit, huh?” Torch kept pushing. “When did you start going around the table and making your own deals?”

“This was a personal sale to pay off a personal debt that’s got nothing to do with the club. I wasn’t running anything that could bring heat, coin collecting isn’t illegal. I’ve got no idea how anybody found out, never mind some fucking hit squad.”

Illegal or not, the son of a bitch was moving two hundred and fifty grand in product with none of them being the wiser. In his goddamn saddlebags. Jesus, could he have made it any fucking easier to get robbed?

Torch scrubbed his beard and paced around, questions rapidly firing through his head. There was one in particular he was pretty sure he didn’t want the answer to. “If you were using this to pay off debt, where the hell
did you get a hundred grand to buy it in the first place, brother?”