Damaged & Dangerous: The Sacred Hearts MC Book VI (17 page)

It looked right on him and I was struck by just how
different
these men were. Each shrugging into their own coats and their own set of
colors. For one, despite some of their cuts’ ages and rougher appearances, they
were all
clean
. Some freshly showered, some freshly shaven, and while a
few wore stained jeans or work pants, they had clearly been freshly laundered
or at least recently laundered.

For another thing, I was surprised to find that very few of
them smoked. Dragon really being the only one who stuck primarily to paper and
tobacco cigarettes. Trigger had an almost ever-present electronic cigarette,
and Data could usually be seen sucking on one of those vaping mechanisms that
always reminded me of the piece the caterpillar from Alice in Wonderland was
constantly sucking on. The club though, while Dragon smoked inside, was
relatively easy and clean breathing, well-ventilated for one, and that’s when
it struck me… the place was immaculately kept.

There was no fetid beer and alcohol spills on the floor, the
furniture was all in good shape, even if a few of the pieces were aged or
outdated. The building didn’t have sloppily done paint in here, or graffiti
like The Suicide Kings. This place,
these people in this place
treated
everything and everyone with respect, and the surroundings and their
appearances reflected that.

“You look like you just had an epiphany.” Thirteen commented
dryly.

“I think I did.”

“Care to share?” he took my leather jacket and hoodie from
my hands and held it so I could slip in to the pairing, and I stared for a long,
hard moment at his work-rough hands holding the black cotton and leather.

“Dani, you okay?” he asked, concern wrinkling his brow.

“No one’s ever held my coat for me,” I said and turned and
let him help me in to it.

“No one? Ever?” He asked surprised.

I shook my head, “Not that I can remember.”

“That part of whatever you were thinking?” he asked. I
nodded and he smiled, “Get used to it, Rocket. Life is gonna get a whole lot
better for you from here.”

“We ready to go, or what?” Rush demanded. Nox smiled
ruefully to himself and held open the front door. Men started piling out into
the bright morning sunlight and I slipped the big, bug-eyed sunglasses out of
the inside of my jacket pocket and put them on. As I stepped out into the
bright sun there was some laughter.

“Those look ridiculous,” someone commented.

“I agree, I hate them but they’re the only pair I have and I
needed something to hide the shiners,” the chuckles stopped abruptly and I
sighed. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be a killjoy…”

“Hey, stop,” Thirteen had me face him, a grave expression on
his face. “One of the things I love about you is that you’re always two or
three steps ahead, that you think about everything, and everything you do has a
purpose if not two. I’ve seen it, I know it, and you’re doing just fine.” He shook
me gently.

“Can we get a move on, please!?” Rush called through the
passenger-side window of a panel van, Nox at the wheel.

“I think I’m beginning to understand how he got his road
name,” I heard Dray gripe behind me. I smiled and bit my lower lip.

“Yes, please, let’s go,” I chuckled. I rode in the box
truck. Disney drove, Thirteen sitting still beside me. He’d taken the middle so
I could look out the window, but truthfully I think it was more so I didn’t
have to sit beside someone unfamiliar.

We were in the lead, the panel van behind us, one or two
other Sacred Hearts following on their bikes. The truck and van were more than
enough to fit everything. I wasn’t taking anything but my grandfather’s
equipment; I didn’t care about anything else. I’d already packed the clothes
I’d wanted to keep and the photos and mementos I’d managed to keep out of Pig’s
hands. He’d sold off most of my jewelry for drugs or what have you, except for
the few heirloom pieces I’d managed to hide away under a piece of loose
baseboard. 

Thirteen held my hand as we rode and I gave Disney
directions, our fingers intertwined and resting atop my denim-clad thigh. It
was nice, I wasn’t used to having my hand held or public displays of affection.
I wasn’t used to affection
at all
really. I thought that my chance at
this, at any kind of happiness, had died with Jared until I found an outlet
through my jewelry making. That was honestly the only thing about leaving my
old life behind that I thought I was going to miss and now, here we were, going
to get it. I smiled and hope bloomed in my chest. Thirteen looked over and down
at me, and his face lightened and a smile broke out over his lips at the sight
of mine. He raised my hand to his mouth and kissed the back and I caught Disney
smiling faintly in the driver’s seat.

“You have someone?” I asked him.

His smile got wider, “Yeah, name is Aaron.” He said.

“She must be really special,” I commented, and Disney’s face
flamed.

“Uh, he is,” he said and Thirteen laughed.

“Aaron, Baby. As in A-A-R-O-N.”

“Oh! I’m so sorry! I just assumed you meant E-R-I-N, as in
the female spelling.” I was blushing hard now and Disney broke out into a wide
grin. He proceeded to tell me all about Aaron and how he had been on the West
coast in California to play in an orchestra that was doing the score for a
movie. About how he was excited that he would be seeing him soon because after
California he’d joined the rest of the Ol’ Ladies in Florida.

I grinned, “Griz was pissed about that. He didn’t know where
you’d sent them. I figured that you’d sent them to wherever the other MC at
your lake run came from. Their leader seemed really close to the demon.” Both
men’s heads swiveled in my direction, matching looks of surprise on their
faces.

“What?” I asked.

Disney looked decisive, “Look, I saw him that night too but
Reaver, he ain’t like that all the time. He was my mentor when I was a prospect
and he’s a really good guy and good friend. The girl that Sparks hurt that
night was Reaver’s baby cousin so yeah, he kind of went off the rails. Believe
me, it scared even me. Just… do me a solid? Don’t let him hear you call him
that, please? It’d really hurt his feelings.” I was embarrassed. When all the
pieces were together, it was a different situation.

“I’m not saying Reaver isn’t fucked up, or scary… he’s both
of those things in spades, I’m just saying that underneath it all he’s more
good than bad. He loves Hayden, Sunshine - Hell, all of the girls, and he loves
this club. He’d do anything for any of us and he’s loyal to a fault. Just wait
until you get to see those things before passing any judgment.”

By now I’d fixed my gaze out the window, turning all of
these things over in my head, worrying my bottom lip between my teeth as I
thought about it. Reaver was trying awfully hard to get on my good side,
spending time around me, volunteering to do things to make my stay more
comfortable, by giving me what was supposedly his favorite knife, which I
gripped with the hand that Thirteen wasn’t holding. Still, all of those things
served to make me
more
suspicious of his motives. Not less. I felt a
nagging worry in the back of my mind that my suspicion said much more about me
than his kindness thus far said about him.

“Pull up here. The one with the green awning.” Thirteen said,
and I realized with a jolt that we’d completed the ride in silence, that we
were here and I’d spent the entire rest of the trip puzzling out the conundrum
of: what was the real Reaver? Man or monster? I was still thinking about it
when I slipped out of the truck, my Converse thudding against the cracked
sidewalk. Thirteen scooted over and I glanced up at him.

“What happened to staying in the truck?” I asked. He gave me
an impish grin and stilled.

“Yes, Ma’am.” He gave me a little half-assed salute and I
smiled. Rush was opening up the back of the van and I opened and propped the
gate into the courtyard.

“So what’re we taking and what’re we leaving?” Trigger asked
me, following me through the gate. I fished my keys out of my pocket and went
to the workshop shed in the corner of the courtyard, sliding the correct key
into the master lock holding the hasp on the door closed. I flung open the door
and breathed out, letting loose the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.
Everything was exactly how I’d left it.

“Everything in here. The Kiln, the centrifugal casting
machine, just all of it. The wax, the plaster, everything wall to wall.” I
said. “The rest of it is upstairs in my apartment.” I stepped aside to let
Trigger and Revelator past me. There was a lot of equipment in here. In
addition to what I used to melt and smelt, there were various cutting and
polishing machines, and surfaces for stones.

Revelator gave a low whistle, “You’re serious about this
shit. You ain’t playin’!” he said. I smiled and put my sunglasses up onto my
forehead.

“My
grand-père taught me
everything he knew, and I made up a few things of my own. I wish I could show
you how it’s done, or something that I’ve made, but I took all of that with me
seeing as it was both valuable and portable. I didn’t think I would see any of
this stuff again.” I felt an overwhelming rush of gratitude for their help in
this.

“We’ll get you taken
care of down here. Why don’t you show Blue and Reave what’s what upstairs while
we get this started? Reave ain’t supposed to be lifting anything too heavy yet but
maybe you can put him to work boxing shit up or something.” I raised my
eyebrows and Trigger laughed. “He’s my best friend, just lookin’ out for him,”
he explained. I filed this away with everything else I’d learned about Reaver
in the last hour and still had a hard time with equating that this highly
lauded individual was the same crazy, blood-covered man I’d seen just this last
summer.

I went out and up the
stairs to my apartment, pondering just how different this MC operated from The
Suicide Kings. I didn’t notice when Blue paused in the courtyard to retie the
lace on his work boot. I just went up the metal and concrete stairs and fit my
key first in the deadbolt’s lock and then in the lock in the knob, throwing
back the tumblers. I opened my front door and stepped through into the dim
interior of my apartment.

I didn’t know, I didn’t
think, and it cost me when thick fingers snagged me by the back of the hair. He
was in the kitchen, he must have heard the key in the lock, but Pig-Pen had me
fast and was growling out, “Bitch! Where the fuck have you been!?” I cried out
as he steered me toward the dining room table, his fist knotted in my hair and
the other gripping my arm with bruising force. I ground my teeth together, eyes
watering from the pain as he slammed me face-down across the dining table’s
gleaming, dark wood surface.

“Answer me!” he demanded
shaking me. His hand left my arm and I knew where it was going. He pinned me
fast between his body and the table, keeping control of my head as he fumbled
at his belt. He was shirtless and there was no telling how long he’d been here
but I knew I was in trouble. I put both palms flat against the table but he was
too much. I tried to push myself up, but he was too strong, and my hands just
slid against the high-polished wood.

Suddenly the pressure on
me lifted and my scalp smarted terribly as he pulled me up by my hair. I
screamed and he turned me around, gripping me by the throat. I knew what he had
planned. I was wearing jeans, and face-down there was no access. I glared at
him and both my hands went to the one wrapped in my hair.

“What, you going to
fight me?” he asked close to my face, then he licked me, from my chin up my
cheek to my temple, “Go on an’ fight, fucking turns me on when you struggle,” he
said and he let go of my throat, his hand going to the front of my jeans. He
froze, about the time I heard the hammer cock back on a gun.

“You know, my buddy Blue
here has a twitchy trigger finger. I’d let her go if I were you.” Thirteen’s
voice was as cold and dispassionate as I had ever heard it. Pig-Pen’s head was
shoved forward.

“Okay, let me rephrase
because it wasn’t really a suggestion. Let. Her. Go.” Pig let me go and I
stumbled a pace or two away from him. Blue had a gun to the back of Pig’s head
and Thirteen stood in the doorway to my apartment, chest heaving, arm tight to
his ribs, Trigger at his back.

“Shoot him!” I blurted,
“Please, for the love of God, shoot him!” Blue blurred, and I stumbled over to
Thirteen, who had his hand out for me. He pulled me into his side and leaned on
me. Pig-Pen smirked.

“Not sure how you’re
alive,” he intoned.

“You think that’s a neat
trick!” we heard, and Thirteen moved me and himself aside. Trigger turned
sideways in the doorway and Reaver stepped into the apartment past him. Pig
scowled, but not before I saw the glint of fear in his eyes. Reaver grinned
from ear to ear.

“Hey, Dani, nice area
rug! Mind if we take it with us?” Reaver asked me, entirely too cheerful.

“If you promise to kill
him,” I said looking Pig-Pen square in the eye. Reaver’s expression turned icy
cold, in a blink, just nobody home.

“Oh I don’t think any of
us is going to have a problem with that, Baby,” he said and gave a nod to Blue.
Pig-Pen sneered but never got the chance to say anything because Blue hit him
with the butt of his gun so hard I could swear he broke Pig’s skull. Pig
dropped like a stone, sprawling half in my kitchen and half in my entryway. I
closed my eyes and huddled into Thirteen’s side miserably. He grunted and I went
to pull back, but his arm tightened around me.

“You’re okay, Rocket. I
got you,” he said, and I nodded.