Blood Secrets: Fallen Motorcycle Club Read online

  We both read some of the books he’d had stowed on his bike and spent more time swimming than lounging. He even brought some of those foam boards and went with me to catch waves. Tumbling around in the salty surf with him was perfect, and reminded me of the days at the shore with my parents.

  It meant a lot that he remembered.

  Once he’d wiped out and his body was flung onto the sand. I’d stood in the wake and laughed, my entire body heaving as I watched him pick himself up. Flash charged back into the water, swooped me up and dunked me, then had his own chuckle while I wiped my dripping hair out of my face. The salt of the sea was wet on my lips.

  But it had to end. The third time I saw him check the clock on his phone, I suggested going inside, cleaning up and getting some dinner once his meeting was over. The mood between us declined as we headed back upstairs, both acutely aware that tomorrow it was back to the real world. We would have to deal with the consequences of everything that had happened since we met.

  We’d deal together, though. I knew that now.

  Since Flash had to talk to Piston, I volunteered to take the first shower. Okay, well, I actually gave up on the plan to seduce him in the shower. Undressing, I grabbed my toothbrush. The hotel toothpaste was all used up from the day before and that morning, so I started to head back out to get the bottle packed in the backpack and then stopped dead in the hall when I overheard a snippet of conversation.

  “So you found the meth dealer?” Flash’s voice was deeper than I’d heard it before. Annoyed and surprised. My skin prickled.

  “He’s been clever, but a source put us onto his location. It’s confirmed.” Piston’s voice was muffled through the speakers, but I could hear it well enough. Every part of me knew that going back into the bathroom and abandoning eavesdropping was the right thing to do, but I had to know.

  “So what’s the next step?”

  “I told him five years ago to get the fuck out of California. He’s not flooding the streets with his substandard shit and taking away our clients. Especially not now.”

  “What’s so special about now?”

  “We’re going to get a huge shipment from the cartel once Manuel settles the fuck down.”

  “Do you think he’s going to keep working with us?”

  “He doesn’t have much choice if he wants to push his shit here. We’ve got the whole city locked down or at least we did before the meth trickle became a deluge six years ago.”

  “So who is this fucker and where is he? I’ve been dying to find out since Cracker died without telling us the fuckhead’s name.”

  “Name is Dale and he lives up in Malibu. Lives in some shit-fancy fucking house right on the water. We’ll go in there and take them all down.” Take them all down? I thought of the people working there, who didn’t deserve to be killed. I thought of Tommy, who ran errands and packed for my uncle. Even my uncle, for all his vile behavior, crossed my mind. No.

  “No warning?”

  “He got his warning years ago and decided to keep pushing.”

  “When are you going in?” Flash’s voice was cold enough that I felt goosebumps sweep across my body. Gone was the gentle man who’d protected me and cradled me. Here was the person buried deep beneath that, the biker. The one percenter.

  He had a self that was hidden below the surface.

  Kind of like me.

  “No rush,” Piston said. I heard him yell something incoherent. “Sorry about that. Guys are getting restless.”

  “Why?”

  “Not keen on letting them go out until Manuel is appeased. He’s a crazy fucker.”

  “Told you we shouldn’t be working with him.”

  “You’ve told me a lot of things, Flash. Doesn’t mean you get to make all the choices. I wouldn’t give up on that money anyway.”

  “So when are you going to Malibu?”

  “We’ll wait until you’re back. How long is it going to be?”

  “Tomorrow night we’ll cross the border, then I’ll head for LA. Less than a week.”

  “Fine. We’ll go when you’re back. You bringing that girl with you?”

  “She’s mine.” Flash’s voice went stone cold when he spoke. It was final. I was his.

  Except that now I could never be.

  “Whatever man.” Piston changed the topic to issues raised at the club meeting and I went back into the bathroom without grabbing the things from my pack, my head swirling. The Fallen were going to kill Dale.

  I hated Dale.

  But I didn’t hate every person who worked in the house. Some of the people who cut and prepared the shipments were actually good people with families. I thought of Ken’s newborn son. His father didn’t have any education and with a few arrests on his record, couldn’t make enough money doing anything other than drug running. He didn’t deserve to die.

  Flashing back to Santiago’s face when my bullet slammed into him and made him less than human, I superimposed Ken’s image over it in my head, then Tommy’s, and shuddered. I stepped into the hot shower and let the water rinse over me, cleaning the sand from my body while I struggled with the fact that I was going to have to leave the man I thought I was falling in love with.

  To save everyone in the compound, I was going to have to get away from him after we crossed the border and let Dale know that it was time to move immediately. Lucky for me—for him—I’d convinced him to buy a second house in his dead wife’s name years before that sat empty. It’d be an easy matter to relocate there. We’d worked out the plan during one of his rare lucid times, when he listened to reason.

  Thank god.

  Part of me wanted to stay with Flash. Another part of me knew that if I did, everyone I’d known for years would die bloody and screaming—because I hadn’t warned them what was going to happen. So I leaned against the tile wall, took three deep breaths, and started the process of letting Flash go. It was all I could do.

  Flash

  I was in love with her.

  When we’d come back from grabbing dinner on the boardwalk the night before, I’d gotten deep into some spreadsheets the club needed balanced. Even though it was early, Emily fell asleep on top of the quilt. Figuring the sun had knocked her out, I let her sleep instead of waking her in the hopes of sinking back into her sweet pussy. She had to be sore from the night before. I could wait.

  Worries dogged me as I watched sitcoms until late into the night. Tomorrow we’d be on the road again, and she wasn’t guaranteed a warm welcome at the club. I’d claimed her, though, so they’d deal with it. Once they got to know her and saw her sweetness, her bravery, they’d come to love her as much as I did.

  Or I’d break their fucking jaws.

  Love had knocked me down for the count and I wasn’t getting back up any time soon. Dad always told me that you know when you know, whether it’s bikes or women and now I knew it was completely, 100 percent true. That girl in my bed was mine. Before I fell asleep, I tucked her into my arms.

  The next morning, she was already up and making coffee on the dresser by the time I pulled my ass out of bed, again proving that she was the only one who could move around a room without waking me. Dressed in simple jeans and a t-shirt, she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. When I kissed her good morning, her hands were tense against my back and I wondered whether she was worried about heading to the club.

  “Don’t worry about The Fallen, sugar,” I told her, accepting the cup of coffee she handed me and drinking the weak brew without a word of complaint.

  “I’m not,” she said. “I just have a lot on my mind.” Her voice sounded tired.

  “We’ll get everything straightened out as soon as we’re home.”

  I wondered again how she’d feel about sharing my room at the club, then rejected that shit. A girl like Emily needed her own space, and I wasn’t about to ask her to share air with the rejects that came to the parties Piston threw. Whores and addicts weren’t the kind of people a soft girl like her needed to be around.
I’d find somewhere with a lot of light and a damn good security system. For all her bravery, she was still incredibly soft. Protecting her had to be my first priority.

  Her softness was one thing that worried me more than I let on. If she wasn’t cut out for life in the club, which I needed like oxygen, I didn’t know if I’d be able to let her go. No way would I become some suit-wearing banker who drinks liquor at lunch and drives home in a fucking sedan, though. Maybe there was some kind of compromise.

  Truth was, I loved running drugs for the cartel. It might have been a shitty thing to do, but we only sold to people who knew what the fuck they were getting into. The money was good and I felt clean enough. She wouldn’t understand, though. The entire time Piston was going on about killing that meth-pusher in Malibu, all I could think was that Emmy wouldn’t want to be with a man who was a killer. A girl like that wants a guy who’s pure and wears khakis. Someone with health insurance and a retirement plan. Maybe she deserved a clean guy like that.

  I’d cut down every one of those cargo pants-wearing motherfuckers if they touched her, though.

  Sighing, I wrapped my arm around her while she checked her email on the laptop I’d brought alone for the ride.

  “You know that you can’t tell people what happened down here, right baby?”

  “I know.” I hated the tension in her words.

  “If you need to talk to someone, maybe you could see a counselor.” At the very least, I’d introduce her to my mother. Mom was a social worker back in the day and was great at listening to people who needed it.

  “I think they have to report murders,” she said, shrugging. “I feel fine, though.”

  I wasn’t so sure. Since we’d woken up, it felt like Emily had shut me down a little. When we kissed, she was as open and sweet as she had been since the first time—but if we weren’t touching, it was like she was a million miles away. Her eyes wandered over everything but me, as if she couldn’t bear to look at me.

  “We’re going to cross the border today,” I said, making another attempt at a normal conversation. I’d been dreading explaining to her how it would work at first, but as I’d come to know her better, it stopped worrying me. She was a stand up girl. She’d handle it.

  “How am I going to get across?”

  “There’s a place where we move people, but we can’t take the bike. Two of my brothers are going to meet me and take the bike through the real border, then leave it at the hotel.”

  “Will I meet them?”

  “Nah. You stay here and have some breakfast while I go swap my bike for the car we’re going to take to our way through.”

  Piston had dispatched Mudd and Jackson to pick up my bike. They were waiting next to it in the parking lot when I emerged from the hotel.

  “Long way to come just so you can take a bitch over the border,” Mudd said.

  “Fuck you, brother. Don’t call her a bitch.”

  “That serious?” Jackson smiled. “Good for you, man.”

  “Sorry, Flash.” I shook Mudd’s hand to let him know there were no hard feelings. Mudd was a little clumsy with words, but he was a good man.

  “So what’s the plan?”

  “We’re going to ditch the car, head through the drain tunnel and then head up the highway a few miles to the hotel.”

  “Is she up for it?”

  “She’s game.”

  “Of course she is, Mudd,” Jackson said, rolling his eyes. “Flash wouldn’t take some weak ass woman as his own.”

  “True that,” Mudd said. “So Jackson and I argued over it, but he’s going to take your bike home.”

  “Thank Christ,” I said. Mudd was known for eating pavement from time to time and I didn’t want any new dings on my baby.

  “We’ll do you one better, even,” said Jackson, laughing, “If you have a spare set of keys, I’ll drop your bike just south of the tunnel. That way you don’t have to walk all the way to the hotel and tire out your lady.”

  I smiled. Emily may have been worried about meeting my brothers, but soon enough she’d see that they were gonna be an asset in her life. Once someone was a member of The Fallen or claimed by one of the members, we took care of them. No matter what.

  “Thanks, man. I appreciate that.”

  “No big deal. We have to run straight back up to LA, though. Piston is being a real bitch about this meth bullshit.”

  “Why? Shouldn’t be a difficult thing.”

  “Yeah, but Manuel is breathing down his neck about it. I don’t know why he gives a fuck. It’s not like it’s stopping us from moving his shit. I think he’s just pissy about what went down with you.”

  “Fuck. I couldn’t just leave her to die.”

  “No one is pissed, man. We’d have taken this meth junkie out eventually anyway. This just moved up our time table and lit a fire under the guys that were on the lookout. Manuel knew he couldn’t retaliate against you without starting a war he can’t win.” The enforcers of the Deleon Cartel, like the other workers, didn’t have near as much respect for Manuel as they had for his decreased brother.

  A few minutes later, my own brothers were gone. Watching my Harley ride away sucked, but it was the price of getting Emily over the border. Piston had offered to send a guide to take her so I could ride my own machine home, but I wouldn’t leave her alone. I wouldn’t ever leave her alone again.

  Emily

  Once Flash had his bike back, we found a place to stay for the night.

  Getting across the border was surprisingly easy. I’d pictured running from shadowed men with guns, but ultimately it was like taking a brisk, nervous nature hike. Once we’d trudged our way through a damp, moldy drain tunnel, it was pretty much over. Shivering, I wrapped my arms tighter around myself, remembering the way chill air clung to my skin in the concrete walls. Made me sad to think of little children forced over the border by their terrified parents or, worse, coyotes.

  But we’d emerged intact and Flash’s bike was close enough that I wasn’t even tired by the time we reached the hotel room. It was for the best. There was a lot to be done, and I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to sleep that night.

  “You tired?” Flash asked. He was. When I’d slept the night before, he’d been burning both ends of the candle to get things done for The Fallen. He was pacing around the room restless already; he knew something was wrong with me and didn’t like that I wasn’t sharing.

  I wasn’t a good enough actress to pretend that things were as they’d been that day on the beach. So I just said, “Really tired. Feels like I can’t get enough sleep. I keep dreaming about Santiago.” That much, at least, was true.

  “We’ll sleep in tomorrow, but then we’re riding hard to LA.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” The real plan—even if Flash didn’t know it—was for me to take off once he was asleep. Dale would wire me money and we’d meet up in Dana Point. If I had to kill any chance of keeping the happiness I’d found with Flash to prevent more needless death, then that was what I would do.

  “What’s on your mind, Emily?” Flash broke through the invisible barrier between us and pulled me against his chest. “I can see that you’re unhappy. Let me help you.”

  The weakness that still lived in me wanted to give in, to explain everything and cry in his arms. But the people he’d talked about killing on the phone included me. He’d agreed to kill me, even if he didn’t realize it. The tenuous bond we’d created over the last few days wouldn’t hold up when it came up against his loyalty to The Fallen.

  When you get right down to it, I’d only known him for about a week. No way was he about to trade The Fallen for me. No, there was a slim chance he’d filet me right now, before going and finishing the job at Dale’s. Then I’d have made it out of Mexico just to die in a cheap hotel room in California.

  I couldn’t take that chance.

  “Nothing, really.” I smiled at him, even though my lips trembled. “I’m just worried about going home.” The less I lied, the more he
would believe me. “My uncle isn’t my favorite person and I guess I was looking forward to being somewhere else for the rest of the summer.”

  His brow furrowed and I realized how ungrateful I must have sounded. “Flash, I won’t ever be able to tell you just how happy I am that you saved me. I didn’t mean otherwise.”

  “I didn’t think you did,” he explained, “but why would you go home to him? You have a place with me now.”

  I laughed to cover the frantic sob building in my throat. “It’s been a damn week. You can’t expect me to just move in with you after a week. Are you crazy? Is it like this with every woman you meet?”

  “No, damn it, Emily. You’re different than anyone I’ve ever met and that’s why I know. Deep down here,” he thumped on his chest, “that you’re mine. I want to take care of you.”

  His words, though kind, broke my heart into pieces. “You can’t take care of me,” I said. “I’m a grown woman. I have to take care of myself.”

  “We can take care of each other, Emmy.”

  “No,” I said. I should have stopped. I should have let him lie down and sleep thinking things were okay, but I couldn’t walk out like this and let him wake up confused and alone. “It doesn’t work like that. Not after a week.”

  “Then stay with me and let me prove it to you. What are you going back to? Your fucking uncle who you hate?”

  “No, Flash.”

  “What were the last few days then? Gratitude?” His fists clenched at his sides and I braced myself without meaning to. Too many times a curled fist had been the only warning sign before I was bleeding. He caught the motion and let his fingers unfurl. “You think I’d hit you?”

  “No,” I said, but what I meant was yes. Not him, but anyone has a breaking point and I seem to be the one who always ends up with the bruises.

  “Who fucking hits you?” Flash’s voice was arctic.

  “No one.”

  “Who?”

  “My fucking uncle, okay?” I turned away from him, not wanting to see the pity that would flare up in his eyes when he realized just how pathetic I really am.