VENDETTA: A Bad Boy, Motorcycle Club Romance (20 page)

I walked out the front door and sat down on the porch. I wondered whether Flash and I would always live in the heart of the city. It had its charms, but at heart, I loved space and privacy. Then it hit me that if their plan worked, I’d be living in Mexico. And Flash? He’d still be here with The Fallen.

I was going to have to be a commuter cartel leader, because the most important thing was to be where he was.

“Nice night,” Piston said, pushing through the door and sitting down next to me. “But you shouldn’t be out in it alone.”

“Why?” I wrapped my arms around myself and slid my eyes over to study him. The rakish leader of the club was calm tonight, but I’d seen him run after the men who’d dumped his friend’s body. There was heat and anger in there.

“Manuel could have more men we don’t know about watching the clubhouse. Risking your life isn’t an option.”

“No one is there,” I said, gesturing toward the park. I wasn’t going to spend the rest of my life in hiding, no matter the reason.

“Even so.” He nodded and two shadowy figures detached themselves from the sides of the clubhouse. One slipped across the street into the trees. The other took up sentry near the thin metal fence that enclosed the building. “What’s on your mind?”

“Taking control of the cartel.”

“You’re a Deleon, Emily. It’s in your blood and you have experience. There couldn’t be a better candidate.” I wondered whether he considered shipping meth experience, but held my tongue. No reason to antagonize him, not when The Fallen would end up being my greatest allies if their plan worked and I was sitting at the head of the Deleon Cartel.

“I’m not ruthless, though,” I said, dropping my head into my hands. “How can I keep people who don’t know me— have never known me—in line?” Sighing, I looked up and wished I could see the stars from here. Light pollution kills them up and down the coast. “I hated what I did for Dale. Hated every second of it.”

“You were a slave then, Emily. You’re not anymore. Your real father’s reputation will go a long way toward making them accept you,” he said, conciliatory. “The club will help with any enforcement problems you face. I also think you should cut ties with the Columbians and scale back the operation to what it was before Manuel got greedy.”

“Why?” I agreed, based on my limited knowledge, but was interested in hearing his reasoning. Bill had explained the way Manuel had extended the reach of the cartel at the expense of safety and discretion.

“They’re dangerous. As long as they’re involved, you’re never going to be able to run it clean.” His hands flexed on the knees of his worn jeans while his eyes scanned the park, leaping from one tree to the next. No one was there.

I agreed. “I don’t know how to break that contract.”

“We’ll help.” The light coming from the club windows made him look harsh, but he was still so handsome—and worried. Knowing he was Flash’s best friend made me want to comfort him, but I was too lost in my own worries.

“I wish there was more time.”

“For what?”

“To prepare,” I said, throwing up my hands. “I’m not ready for this. I never wanted this.” 

“As soon as Manuel knows we’re gunning for him and that you’re our rallying point, he’s going to kill Rosaline. He hasn’t yet, but he will. It’s just good business.”

“How is that good business?”

“When you have an enemy, you take them down. Fast and final. Killing the last parent you have would be a damn good way to take you out of the game.”

“I want to save her.”

“Then think about what we’re offering. You won’t be alone down there, and we’ll teach you the things you need to know. Hell, girl, I’ll even personally help you take it apart piece by piece once all the dust settles if you don’t want to keep running it.”

I wasn’t sure whether I’d want to keep running it or not. That was a worry for another time. As much as I hated to admit it, selling drugs was what I’d done my whole life. I was good at it. And—more importantly—nature abhors a vacuum. If I let go of the power that was being offered to me, someone ruthless and more terrible could pick it up. “What about Flash?”

“I don’t think I could pry that man away from you with a crowbar.” His face grew even more handsome when his lips twisted with a sardonic smile. “I think he’ll have to be the Fallen representative down in Mexico. Expect lots of trips up here.” My heart lightened a little. Flash moving to Mexico hadn’t even crossed my mind.

“Trips up sound nice,” I said, and meant it. My impression of The Fallen Motorcycle Club before I’d met them had been that they were all killers. It was skewed, though, because I hadn’t seen them kill for reasons that weren’t right. Nothing about the bikers was intimidating to me anymore, because Flash had claimed me. Me. I was one of them now.

“So you’ll do it?”

I nodded and saw relief dawn in his eyes. Whether he cared about the money they’d keep from working with the cartel or whether he was genuinely worried about the people involved in the operation was still questionable.

“Thanks, Emily,” he said. Nodding, he walked into the clubhouse and I sat back against the wall, looking up at the full moon and trying to decide how to make everything work without losing my life or, worse, losing Flash.

When I finally went inside, only one man sat in the lounge. I vaguely recognized him as Jackson.

“Are you okay?” I asked, moving toward the couch with measured steps. I’d seen his wild grief and agony when his friend’s body fell into his arms and didn’t want the whip edge of the rage to come down on me.

“Alright,” he said, leaning back. “Saw you talking to Piston. He said you’re in.”

“I am.”

“You think you can kill Manuel?” I wondered whether he saw a piece of fluff without any substance when he looked at me, because the skepticism was hot in his eyes. Nodding, I moved closer and sat next to him.

“I already killed his son.” Jackson looked me up and down, grudging respect in his eyes.

“You’re a tiny thing.” He sighed.

“Don’t have to be big to use a gun,” I pointed out and he offered me the bottle of vodka he was drinking from. “No, thank you.”

“Your loss.”

“I’m sorry about your friend.” I wasn’t sure whether it was something I should say, but it felt wrong to not acknowledge the man’s sacrifice. “It’s obvious you cared about him a lot.”

“He was my brother. A good man. I killed one of the men who killed him, but it still wasn’t enough.”

“I’m sorry,” I said again. I knew how he felt, in a way. My parents were dead. My biological father was dead. I wished I could have just a taste of the vengeance that he’d received. Killing Manuel might give me that—or it might propel me headfirst into months of nightmares.

Sobering, he turned to me and put a hand on my shoulder. “He died because Manuel is a psychotic piece of shit. Not because of you. Don’t put that burden on yourself.”

I nodded. “Are you going to be okay?”

“People die. You move on eventually.” He swirled the bottle of vodka and looked into the clear liquid. “He didn’t deserve the end he got.”

“Few do,” I said, thinking of my parents.

“True enough.”

“Are you going to Mexico?”

“I am,” he said. “I want to be there to see that fucker get the ending he deserves.”

Flash was still awake when I came back into the room. His eyes were open and staring at the ceiling, but moved to me the second I came through the door.

He opened his arms and I went into them gratefully. The ropey muscles held me tight to his chest and I closed my eyes, breathing in his scent. Something about his warm body made me feel more relaxed as we stayed in silence.

“Are you okay?” he said after long minutes.

“Not really,” I said, “but I will be in a few days. I spoke to Piston and told him that I’ll do it.”

“I’ll be with you every step of the way, Emmy. You’ll never be alone again.”

“I know,” I said, believing him totally. Wanting him to see the truth reflected in my eyes, I twisted so that I was almost on top of him and then met his gaze. “You’re mine.”

“I’m never letting you get away again.”

“I won’t ever try. Leaving you once almost destroyed me. I’m not sure I’d survive a second time.”

“Emily, if you’re ever away from me again, I’ll never stop looking. I’ll tear the world apart until you’re back where you belong.”

“With you,” I said.

He nodded and pulled me closer.

“You don’t have to kill Manuel,” Flash said, his voice almost a whisper. “I can make sure that only us and a few of the guys are in the room. No one is going to say that you didn’t. We’ll spread it about that you did and that’ll be the end of it.”

I nodded, grateful, but doubts crawled through me. If I couldn’t kill the man who killed my biological father and sent Flash’s brother’s corpse back mutilated, then what kind of leader would I be? If I always deferred to The Fallen and made them do the dirty work, then in some ways I would be as bad a leader as Manuel.

“It has to be the way Rafael ran it,” I told him. “I can’t let people die so that I can sell drugs. I’ll walk away before it comes to that.” I could run the cartel clean, I thought. I just had to learn how. From what Bill had told me about the current state of things, there was a lot of grunt work to do before we got it to where it needed to be.

“We’ll walk away,” he said, his voice final. “It’s not just you anymore.”

His lips met mine in a slow, warm kiss that spoke not of passion, but of connection. Cuddling closer, I planted a kiss on his chest, rested my head there and closed my eyes. I didn’t think I’d fall asleep, but when I opened my eyes again it was morning and The Fallen were getting ready to head to Mexico.

Flash

Driving south with Emily pressed against me was like taking a heavenly chariot straight to hell. My brothers spread out around us, ahead and behind, to protect her from any attempts on her life on the off chance that Manuel knew how quickly we were moving.

It wasn’t likely, but you don’t gamble with what matters most.

As important as it was that we made it down fast, the plan still included one overnight stop. Going up against trained guards and enforcers who might not prove as loyal to Rafael as Dad assured me they were meant that we needed to be ready. Sleep, steak and a little time off our asses would help clear out our minds and get us in fighting form.

Winding down the coast road, I felt Emily lean her head against my back and knew she was looking out at the waves crashing below the cliffs. My girl loved the ocean, and I looked forward to a future where I’d be able to take her to it as often as she wanted. Once things cleared up, I’d spend a whole week with her on a hot, private beach somewhere, rubbing oil into that perfect golden skin.

The happy days I’d promised her long ago were going to be more tricky than I’d thought then. All this fucking trouble because one man felt slighted when his brother took over the cartel, and it was going to keep echoing for us after his death. I’d felt her shudder in her sleep when she dreamed of shooting Santiago the night before we left. Would seeing Manuel killed make the nightmares worse?

Making the choice to put him down myself cleared out some of the cobwebs from my brain. After a life of logical choices, I was a fucking caveman when it came to Emily. All I could think about was protecting her from immediate danger, and her having to plant a bullet in that fucker’s head was something my lizard brain just couldn’t handle.

If I was honest with myself, I was worried she’d break.

The engine purred as the sun started to dip. Soon we’d be at the hotel for the night and then tomorrow we’d make it the rest of the way to the villa and Manuel.

My woman stared out at the sea, pensive, the dress she’d changed into for dinner blowing gently in the ocean air that rose off the waves and buffeted about her. Emily was too beautiful, I thought, and too fragile to be going through all this—but then I stopped myself. Her delicate beauty belied the strength inside. Every bomb that had been dropped on her, she’d ducked, rolled and come up with her fists raised.

My girl was a fighter.

Her fingers clenched on the railing of the balcony and it was all I could do not to go to her and shelter her in my arms. Soft urges, the likes of which I’d never felt before, haunted me any time she was within sight. When she was gone, my nerves ate at me, wondering whether she was safe and happy. Then I’d see her pink lips curve in a grin when she spotted my face and it was like I’d been handed the keys to the kingdom.

“Flash?” she said, walking back into the room, but leaving the door open so the sounds of the waves still surrounded us.

“Yes?”

“I’m scared.”

“No need to be, baby girl. You’ve got this.” I wrapped my hand around her slender fingers and pulled her over to the bed. “We’ve got this.”

“What if something happens to you?”

I smiled. “I’ve been through worse than trying to upset the balance of power in a cartel. Just wait. We’ll come out the winners, you’ll see.”

“Jackson seems like he’s not dealing with things very well,” she said, her eyes dimming. Probably remembering the way Mudd looked after he was dead. “I don’t know how he’ll manage tomorrow.”

“He’s strong,” I said. “We were in the Army together, and he held up. He’ll hold up now.” I was worried about him, just like she was. The dark circles under his eyes were growing and he snapped at anyone who suggested he get some rest. Even now he was out on the streets, doing god knows what.

“It just seems like it’s hurting him.”

“It is. But he’ll cope.” He had to.

Her worry over my brothers made me love her more, if such a thing were possible. The first day we’d spent together, I’d recognized her courage, her kindness. But now those feelings seemed thin and cheap. What she inspired in me now was like the sea outside our window, roaring and endless, covering the whole Earth.

She was my center.

I got up and poured her a glass of water, then watched with satisfaction as she drank it. Providing for her was what I wanted to do. “We need to sleep soon,” I said, patting one of the down pillows on the bed. “Early day tomorrow.”

“I’m not ready to sleep yet.” Her eyes glowed with passion when they locked on mine and I felt a lump in my throat. Fucking was never just fucking when it came to Emily, but now we were on a different level. Something more real than either of us had known before.

It should have scared the shit out of me.

It doesn’t
.

Sliding back on the bed, Emily held out a hand. I took it gladly.

Kissing her soft lips, I pushed her hair away from her face and studied her.
I’m the luckiest guy in the entire world
. Despite everything, she was here with me and I would keep her safe tomorrow, no matter what it took.

“I love you,” she said softly. “I think I have for a long time.”

“I love you too,” I told her. “When this is all over, it’s going to be you and me.”

Gathering her into my arms, I kissed her neck and inhaled her sweet scent. There was no way we could lose as long as I had her to fight for. For her, I’d always win.

We came at the villa from the desert. It meant a three mile hike over burning sands from the nearest access road, but avoiding the watchful eyes of the guards along the main road made it worth the effort.

Piston, Jackson, Emily and I came over the rise and saw the villa, stark white against the horizon. “Do you have the bolt cutters?” asked Piston, motioning for us to move to our bellies. There, we surveyed the property.

“Yeah,” said Jackson. “They’re in my pack.” We were all loaded down with everything we could possibly need, even though sneaking in wouldn’t be difficult. Rafael had never needed much security, and Manuel hadn’t updated the entire place when he took over.

“Will it trigger an alarm?”

“Not if we cut through the old section by the original house.” It was left as a kind of guest home and ignored for the most part. “We’ll have to upgrade the security once everything evens out.” I wasn’t letting my old lady stay in a place that wasn’t fully secure.

Emily smiled at me, lighting up the already-bright desert. Soon the sun would set and we’d make our way down the hill. Each of us was wearing long sleeves and pants in the same color as the sand, hoping we’d be able to blend. The last thing we needed was Manuel’s watchdogs spotting us and sending a patrol up into the dunes.

Dad was in town, meeting a contact he knew was loyal to Rafael. That man, he’d promised, would put out the word that the old regime had fallen as soon as we had Manuel’s head.

The rest of the guys were a few miles down the road, blending in to the town. Once we’d breeched the perimeter, they’d hop on their bikes and storm the gates, taking out the guards and securing the compound in minutes. Arguments had flown in church about whether we should just crash it head on, but Piston had shot them down, saying that it might give Manuel time to get away.

We had to reach him before any alarms were raised.

My hands itched to get down there and start cracking skulls. Not every person in that house was someone who’d stay on the payroll. With the exception of Rosaline, I didn’t think we’d keep any of them—Emily’s safety wasn’t something I was willing to trust to those who’d worked for a man who’d ordered her death not once, but twice. But most of them would just be sent to work elsewhere, if they chose.

Some would die, though. Anyone who was armed. And anyone who threatened Emily.

The four of us were mostly quiet as the sun sank lower and the temperature dropped. Anticipation sizzled in the air, and I knew each of my brothers and my woman were as ready as I was to charge down.

Finally, Piston pushed himself up.

“Let’s move,” he said.

Rising, we followed him down the hill and into war.