VENDETTA: A Bad Boy, Motorcycle Club Romance (22 page)

He wrapped an arm around her neck, tight enough that her eyes bulged and she dropped the items she’d held. They hit the floor and smashed, sending pieces of glass and the brown liquor everywhere.

“I’ll kill her.” He tightened his grip and Rosaline gasped for air. Still, her gaze was locked on me, fear mixed with longing. Wanting to reach for her with everything inside me, I reined myself in and kept my face cool. If he knew she meant something to me, I was sure Manuel would kill her just to hurt me.

“I don’t care,” Piston said. “She’s nothing to me.” I would have interjected then, scared Manuel would answer the taunt by killing her, but Flash locked an arm on my wrist.

“Should have known you’d be the kind to hide behind a woman,” Jackson chimed in, his finger on the trigger of his gun. Manuel turned to Jackson, keeping Rosaline in front of his body like a shield. While he was distracted, Flash moved around the perimeter of the room, slowly—so slowly—coming closer to my biological mother and the man who threatened her.

“Once she’s gone, you’re dead no matter what,” said Piston, not moving his gun away from where it was trained on Manuel. “You don’t walk out of here.”

Flash was getting closer. A hot ball of nerves rolled in my stomach while I stared at my mother’s eyes—my eyes. Trembling, she curved her rosy lips up into the semblance of a smile.

She didn’t want me to see her die scared.

She was in me and so was my dad, and my adoptive parents and Dale —and Manuel too. The coward. The bad parts and the good. They were all in me.

Flash lunged, throwing Rosaline back toward the bed while he twisted Manuel’s arm up so hard that it cracked, sickeningly. The older man went down with a pathetic groan.

If I wasn’t brave, I’d end up like the man cowering in Flash’s grip. Too weak to face the things I’d done. Too cowardly to lead.

“No,” I said. “Flash, wait.”

He turned to me, his hands crushing Manuel’s arm. Flash’s eyes filled with pity when he took my measure, thinking I was going to beg for the bastard’s life. “He has to die, Emily.”

“No,” Manuel said, his eyes darting to mine. Everything about him was disgusting. He was lower than the belly of a snake. “We’re blood. We’re family. Spare me.”

“He’ll keep trying to kill you,” Flash said, frustration on his face.

“I’m not going to spare him,” I said, and watched the hope die in the Manuel’s eyes. “But you’re not going to pull the trigger. I am.”

“Why?”

“He killed my father. He tried to use my mother as a shield. He twisted this place into something that none of the family wanted—and I don’t care if it’s because he’s a crazy bastard or if he’s just hungry for power. It should be me who kills him.”

To my relief, Flash nodded.

“We share the same blood,” Manuel said as I approached him. That blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, staining the white shirt he wore.

“Our blood is dirty,” I said, hoping he saw the disgust on my face. “I’m going to start cleaning it up.”

Flash pulled Manuel up so his back was straight, looking down at the weeping man with disdain. I pressed the gun against the back of his skull. His entire body was shaking.

Without a word, I pulled the trigger.

He slumped to the ground. I loosened my grip on the gun and let it fall next to his body. Nausea raced through me, but no regret.

“You,” Rosaline said, moving across the room to me and reaching out a shaky hand to touch my arm. When I turned fully to her, she moved the hand up to cup my cheek. “You came back.”

“I’m here,” I said, searching her face. After years, it was so strange to see myself reflected in another person. The first night I’d met her, I’d been too shaken and terrified to see just how alike we really were. Our lips were both full, our tresses long and waving. Her hair was lighter than mine, and I wondered if my darker shades were from my father.

There’d be plenty of time to find out.

The door slammed inward and all three of the men positioned themselves between me, Rosaline and the door. But it was only Bill. Behind him were several other members of The Fallen.

“The villa is down,” Bill said, excitement sparking in his eyes. “Javier is out spreading the word that a new Deleon is taking the reins.”

I wrapped an arm around Rosaline’s waist and reached for Flash. His fingers locked with mine and he smiled. In his perfect eyes, I saw the rest of my life.

We left the body on the floor and went out to start doing what needed to be done.

Two Months Later

Flash

Never thought I’d take a break from The Fallen.

Alright, so it’s not really a break, but I’m not going to be attending church more than once a month either. Normally Piston would come down hard on someone for that kind of bullshit.

In this case, I think the steady flow of coke keeps him happy.

I’d never imagined myself living south of the border either, but it grows on me every day. It doesn’t hurt  that my old lady looks damn good in a white bikini, all stretched out in the courtyard and soaking up the sun when she’s not trying to get shit back on track. Her smile comes more and more often, and I can’t ever get enough of it. It lights up my whole life.

The second day that Emily was in charge of the cartel, she went out to meet the people working for her in the factories—heavily guarded by a troupe of my brothers. The people Manuel had kidnapped for slave labor were released with compensation the same day, after Emily insisted on interviewing each person individually.

Negotiations with Columbia had been significantly more complicated. The manufacturers who had contracts with Manuel weren’t going to let the money or the mules slide as easily.

But Emily was standing up to it. Every day I saw her spine straighten a little more as she grew into the role as a Deleon. Dad introduced her around to Rafael’s top men and they seemed to have accepted her—but it would be a long time before she’d be without a Fallen escort.

Grabbing a beer from the fridge, I walked outside to the pool behind the house. The blue water was undisturbed and I felt a second of panic while I canvassed the area, my heart slowing when I saw Emily reclined on a lounger, chatting on her mobile phone. When she saw me, she said something, closed the phone and waved me over.

“Tommy?” I slipped a finger under the strap on her bikini and slid it over. Paler skin greeted my gaze where the cloth had protected her from the sun. I pressed my lips to her tanned shoulder, feeling her skin almost sizzle.

“He’s doing good,” she said. “Piston showed up yesterday and took him for a ride during his liberty.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Piston promised me he’d look out for Tommy before he went back to LA.” She stretched out, then spotted my beer. Fast as a frog’s tongue, she hooked it with her fingers and tilted it into her mouth.

“Just what I wanted,” she said with a sigh, pulling me back against her. Her dark hair spilled over her shoulders and tickled me when she leaned in to place a clumsy kiss at the corner of my lips. Hard to believe that a year ago, I didn’t want a woman—and now I couldn’t imagine a single day without her by my side.

“Did you tell Javier that we’re going to LA at the end of the month?” Javier was proving to be the most useful of all the Deleon men. He also filled in the gaps of stories Rosaline told about Emily’s father.

“He knows,” she said, and sighed. “What do you want to do tonight?”

“Nothing on the docket?” Since she’d officially accepted her role as Emily Deleon, we hadn’t had a night that ended before three in the morning.

“We’re free.”

Freedom. It was the only thing I’d ever really cherished other than The Fallen—and now, her.

Emily

When I wasn’t snuggled up with Flash, meeting with men who eyed me suspiciously, or on the phone, I was getting to know Rosaline. Despite the time that passed, I wasn’t ready to call her mom. To me, Mom was still the woman who’d died in a car accident so many years ago. But we were learning our way around each other and she loved me. I already loved her, too.

The first morning after Manuel had died, I’d awakened with Flash and showered, then stood in the middle of the room in a towel. Not sure what to do or where to go. A soft knock at the door got my attention and Flash opened it, revealing Rosaline.

“I brought you cocoa,” she said, setting down a tray with cocoa and buttered toast. “My mom used to make it for me in the mornings.” Rosaline had ended up in Mexico by way of Cincinnati and still had parents living there. I wondered if I’d go meet them someday.

“Thank you,” I said, awkward, unsure how I should proceed with the woman who was responsible for my birth and my subsequent rehoming. Flash took a sip from the delicate china cup and then handed it to me.

“It’s good,” he said.

“Thank you.” Her smile was shy, but I came to understand in the following days that she was a bold woman. After her husband had been murdered, she’d heard Manuel raving about an unknown heir. While she believed that I was safe, she wasn’t completely sure. When she could have returned home, she’d elected to stay at the villa in case he got ahold of her daughter.

Then Dale turned me in and her nightmares came true. So Rosaline sent my own personal white knight to save me.

I took a sip of the rich liquid and my eyebrows shot up. “It’s amazing.”

“I’ll teach you to make it,” she said.

“You don’t have to work in the kitchen anymore.”

“I like to cook,” she said simply, shrugging. “I know you have much to do today, but if you have time tonight or tomorrow, I’d like to spend some of it with you.”

I’d agreed, and Rosaline joined Flash and The Fallen for dinner at our long dining table that night. She’d regaled us with stories about my father, who she built up to be both fearless and dashing, cunning and kind. Like me, he was moody when he was hungry. I laughed when she said that, remembering how hungry I was when Flash and I had first driven into Sonora.

Every day we strengthened the tenuous bond between us. It would only become stronger.

News came from LA that Tommy was doing exceptionally well in rehab, and that some of The Fallen had even taken to spending time with him during visiting hours. Despite the dark thoughts I’d had for him in the past, I was glad to hear it.

When he called me, he told me about group therapy and how scared he was of leaving and having access to meth again.

“It’s going to be okay,” I told him. “You’re stronger than that.”

“You never started using.”

“I didn’t have your father. Dale probably would have broken my face if I’d tried to use the product—less for him.” I saw Flash walk out of the kitchen and felt excitement flutter in my chest. “Talk to you this weekend, okay?”

“For sure. Stay safe.” He hung up and I pushed the phone onto the small glass table next to the lounge chair. Sliding in next to me, Flash kissed my shoulder and I felt that hot, glittery rush of passion that only he could give me. We chatted for a moment, then sat together, looking out at the endless waves of sand.

Flash smiled at me and wrapped his arms tight around my torso, pulling me up onto his lap. Curling against him, I watched the water in the pool sparkle and dance in the hot breeze that blew down off the dunes. So quickly, I’d gotten used to life in the villa—even if I still didn’t like to see the place where I’d killed Santiago and Manuel.

If their lives were the price for what we had now, though, I would do it again. Over and over again.

The day I’d been informed about the forced laborers, Javier had taken me to the facilities to show me the people who’d been taken from their village. I offered them a choice: stay, go home or go anywhere you want on my dime. Manual was a crazy bastard, but we had fat coffers and I was more than willing to share with the people who’d been abused by my dead uncle.

Some of the men chose to stay, but most people went home with lots of money in their pockets. I wished them well.

The human trafficking Manual had started steering the cartel toward was more complicated. As the head of Deleon Cartel, I could control the production and flow of coke. Manuel hadn’t been at the head of the human trafficking organization—he’d been hooked up to it by the Columbians who were still giving me a hard time about cutting ties with them.

Jackson and a few of The Fallen were heading to South America to look into it. If we could find the women, we’d try to get them home.

It wasn’t easy, but everything was falling into place. If I’d known what the future held last summer, I’d have walked into Santiago’s trap with open arms—the pain and misery had been worth it to get here, with the man I loved.

The day Flash presented me with my property jacket, I’d been so excited that I’d whirled around rapturously, falling backwards until he caught me and kissed me, long and hard. Then I’d slipped it on and walked around in front of him, modeling it. “Come here, woman,” he’d said, grabbing the hem and yanking me over. It was the only thing I’d had on for a few hours.

Life was good.

Life was damn good.

“You want to have some fun right here before Javier or Rosaline gets back from town?” I ran a finger down between my breasts. “We have a few hours.”

“Woman, you have no idea how much I want to,” Flash said, “but we have something that we need to do ASAP.”

“What is it?” I ran through my mental to-do list, but came up blank.

“When you were hanging out with Rosaline this morning, I picked up a few things at the market.”

“What?”

“You said you’ve always wanted to learn how to make baked Alaska,” he said with a wide smile. “Everything you need is waiting in the kitchen. I even got a few extra cartons of ice cream in case we mess up and need to try it again.”

I launched myself on top of him, wrapping my arms around him. “I love you so much,” I said. planting a kiss on his lips.

“I love you, too, Emmy.” He rose from the chair and held out his hand. “Let’s get cooking. The sooner it’s done, the sooner I can chase your cute ass up into our bedroom.”

Lacing my fingers with his, I followed him into the house.