Angels and Ashes (Heaven's Rejects MC Book 2) (6 page)

“Hey. Can you come over to watch Roxie and grab the boys from school? I hate to ask you to do this knowing you’re about ready to give birth at any time, but I had an emergency pop up that requires me to leave immediately.”

“Sure, it’s honestly not a problem. It would be kinda nice to get away from Hero’s hovering. Do you need me to stay the night?” she questions.

“Yeah, that would probably be best. There’s plenty of food, diapers, and formula for Roxie, and the boys will eat just about anything you put in front of them.”

“Sure, no problem. Is everything okay? Do I need to have Raze or Hero come over?”
Shit, she sounds suspicious. Play it cool, Darcy. Don’t tip her off that something is up.

“Yeah, just something I need to handle and don’t want to take the boys out of school. I really appreciate you helping me, Dani, especially knowing how much Hero hates you being away from home right now.”

Dani laughs into the receiver. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about my husband. I know how to make him see things my way.”

I laugh at her response before giving her the timeline on when I need her to come over. After quickly checking on Roxie and cleaning up the kitchen, I head to the bedroom and pack an overnight bag. It’ll only take me a few hours to get where I’m going. Unlocking Brent’s nightstand, I pull out the Glock .380 automatic hand gun he gave me shortly after we got married. It’s illegal to carry across the border, but I am not going un-armed into a foreign country alone. I’ll grease some palms or flirt if I have to, but that gun is coming with me.

I check the gun to make sure the safety is still clicked on before tucking it in the back of my jeans. I toss an extra clip into my bag just in case. Brent always worried about me being home alone, especially when trouble brewed up for the club, so he made for damn sure I was armed. Little did he know, I was a better shot than he was. My daddy raised a true southern belle that was pretty to look and deadly if crossed. Let’s just hope that this adventure won’t cause the other side of my upbringing to be necessary.

Just as I grab Brent’s letter—along with my passport—and zip up the bag, the doorbell rings, signaling that Dani has arrived. Greeting her at the door, I go over a few things before giving Roxie a quick kiss on the forehead and heading out the door. For a woman carrying twins, she doesn’t look a bit exhausted. God, I wish I had pregnancies like hers, but then again, my baby making days are over. Three is definitely enough in my book.

I know Dani will need the van to pick up the boys so I am forced to take the one car I have avoided driving since Brent died: his 1971 Dodge Challenger R/T he named Betty. He loved this car and his bike more than I think he ever loved anything in his life, besides his family, of course. Tossing my bag into the passenger seat and placing the gun under the driver’s seat, I put the keys in the ignition and let the engine roar to life. While Betty idles, I grab my phone and say the words I never thought I’d speak again.

“Siri, get me directions to Tijuana.”

The ride back to the clubhouse takes longer than expected from the Hollywood Bowl. Apparently, some jackass decided it would be a smooth move to try to drive in the carpool lane with a semi-trailer and jackknifed when the California Highway Patrol tried to pull him over. My hour trip turned into three hours because people don’t seem to realize that shit doesn’t fly in California.
Fucking idiots.

Rolling into the clubhouse at nearly two AM, I notice the line of Harleys parked by the backdoor—looks like most of my brothers are here late. I guide my bike into the first spot and lower the kickstand. Before I even swing my leg over, the backdoor of the clubhouse swings wide and out steps Ratchet. His entire demeanor is filled with fluid anger.
Fuck, can’t I come home to a normal night at the clubhouse?
It seems like there is always someone with a bowl full of piss-covered Cheerios around here anymore. When did this MC turn into a high school with hormone-crazed teenagers looking to score some pussy and rebel against their parents?

Sliding off my bike, I remove my leathers from my legs and stow them in the saddle bags across the back of my bike. Ratchet takes a long drag off of his cigarette while staring at the sky with his eyes closed. I approach him carefully, because, much like Hero, Ratchet has his moments of instability and it’s best not to sneak up on him. He sees me and throws his cigarette to the ground, grinding the cherry out with his boot.

“Sup, Prez. You look like you’ve had a hell of a night.”

“You could say that, Ratch. Remind me to kick Hero’s ass the next time I try to help him. Fucking pop singers, man.”

Ratchet laughs as he shakes his head at me. “She the one that put her lipstick on you, or do you have a secret you need to share?”

Taking my hand, I rub it across my lips and see the bright-red stain of Michelle’s lipstick on the back of my hand. I didn’t even notice she had it on, but it would explain the smoothness of her lips.

“Nah, Ratch. My dick doesn’t touch the client, but her manager went for a ride.”

Ratchet reaches into his pocket to pull out his pack of cigarettes, tipping the package to offer me one, but I wave his gesture off. Ratchet slides one from the pack and pulls it to his mouth, lighting the end before taking another long drag.

“About time you got your dick wet. Me and the boys were about to start taking bets on which one of the girls would be warming your bed,” Ratchet utters between hits of his cigarette. “I know Maj fucked you up, but we expected you to mow through the club whores once she left.”

“Let’s not talk about that bitch. What’s got you out here chain smoking? Something I need to know about?” I question Ratchet.

The mention of my ex-wife’s name sends heated anger coursing through my body. That bitch crossed the line far too many times to let her last indiscretion slide. Turning Dani in on a fake warrant to to her motherfucking rapist step-brother was one thing, but fucking my own brothers in our bed was a step too far. The decision to not only end our marriage, but her life, was the hardest one I’ve ever made. Maj planted the seeds of disloyalty into my club and our brother chapters, and I wasn’t about to let all the hard work we’d put into making this club legitimate at risk because my wife couldn’t keep her legs closed. I had dragged her out into the Mojave with intent to kill her, but I couldn’t pull the trigger and take the life of the woman who had given me my children. Twelve years of a semi-happy marriage made me weak, but the work still had to be done. I waited for hours until my back-up arrived out there in the desert. Taking the gun from my hand, my brother sent me away, and just as I reached my truck, I heard the gunshot echoing off the mountain range. While he often worked against me in club politics, he always came through when it came down to orders.

Ratchet lets a long exhale of smoke billow from his lips before discarding his second cigarette into the dust.

“It’s nothing, Prez. Just some bullshit with Ricca.”

Ever since we brought Ricca home from the Twisted Tribe compound, Ratchet has been glued to her side. While I wouldn’t be too keen on being cozy with a Tribe’s cast-off, Ratchet doesn’t seem to care. As she’s battled her demons from her time in their demented playroom, he’s been the one to bring her back to reality. If I wouldn’t have known any better, I’d have thought she was his old lady.

“Ricca, huh? What happened this time?”

“She told me today she wants to leave the clubhouse and move into an apartment out east. Something about going home to her family.”

“How’s that a bad thing? She’d be a less of a pain in our ass if she wasn’t here.”

Ratchet’s eyes flare with anger at my indifference to her declaration.

“Shit, sorry I asked, man. I know you feel responsible for her, but hell, maybe it’ll help with how fucked up her head is.”

Ratchet stands in silence and just walks away. He knows I’m right, but for the first time in a long time, I think he might actually care about someone other than himself. I just hope it doesn’t fuck up our club business because he can’t let a piece of pussy go. Ricca is an unstable liability, and she would serve us better not being in our clubhouse.

Pulling the back door open, the bass of the stereo almost smacks me in the face with the heavy sound waves reverberating from the main room. I walk past my office and throw down my bike keys on my desk before heading toward the loud commotion.

The main room is lined with the typical man cave and pool hall shit: worn leather couches, a well-stocked bar, and a pool table that has been used far too many times as a fucking surface than I care to admit. But tonight, there seems to be a new attraction in the main room. In the center of the couches stands a bare-chested woman swinging from a newly-installed stripper pole. She jumps and wraps her legs around the pole while she slides down. My brothers hoot and holler as her tits barely brush the ground when she spins. While a nice pair of tits would usually interest me, I’ve seen Ruby’s far too many times to even care. Side-stepping the action at the center of the room, I saunter over to the bar and slide up next to Hero. Four empty bottles sit in front of him. He’s usually not a big drinker, so I know shit has hit the fan.

Slapping him on the back, I draw his attention to me.

“Thanks for the pop whore duty today. You could have warned me, you know.”

Hero’s face turns from a scowl into a smirk as he laughs and shakes his head.

“If I’d have done that, I would be the one looking like they begged for their eyes to be gouged, and not you. You’d have done it either way. The money was too fucking sweet to deny. Fifty large to watch some pretty bitch prance around a stage singing cock tease music is easy money. Have any trouble?”

“Nah, like you said, it was easy money. The little bitch tried to get me back to her hotel room, though.”

Hero wiggles his eyes at me with a knowing smile plastered on his face. “Well?”

“Fuck you, man. You know the rules. Dicks don’t touch the clients. Besides, girls with Daddy issues are too much fucking work and a lousy lay.”

Hero heartily laughs before he takes another swig of his beer. “Did you know about Ruby’s performance?” I ask Hero.

“Nah, just sort of happened. The guys were here waiting to see if you survived the job when the beer started flowing and Ruby started stripping. Not my idea of fun anymore.”

“That, and Dani would chop off your balls if she caught you playing hide and go fuck with another girl.”

“No shit,” he exclaims. “Pregnant woman are dangerous as fuck, Raze. I thought she was going to kill me last weekend because I told her we didn’t need to put together the cribs yet. The look I got from her could have killed a man where he stood. I’m just glad the tool box was next to me and not her.”

I laugh at his confession. Dani is a tough girl, and after everything she’s been through, it makes sense that she is a little demanding carrying the spawns of Hero in her belly. If I remember right, she doesn’t have long until they make their grand entrance.

“So, why the long face? Dani pissed at you at again?”

Hero chugs his fresh beer down in three large gulps before sliding the bottle next to his empties. His hands rake through his hair while I wait for an answer.

“Nah, she’s not pissed, but I am fucking screwed. You know we’re having twins, right? Well, we found out today what the second baby is since that little fucker has hid for months behind the other one.”

“Well, what is it?” I ask curiously.

Hero’s eyes look bewildered as his words come out almost as a whisper. “A girl. I’m having two fucking girls.”

I can’t contain my laughter as his look of misery grows.

“It ain’t fucking funny, Raze. I’m going to be in jail before they ever turn sixteen. Some boy will ultimately try to sleep with one of them, and I’ll be in jail for breaking his fucking hands and hacking off his dick.”

The visual he gives me is too Goddamn funny for words and sends me laughing uncontrollably. Slapping him on the back, I continue to laugh as I stand and walk away, letting him wallow in his own domestic misery. All I can think of his karma is about to make Hero its bitch.

Checking in with Voodoo and Tyson, I make sure everyone is lined up for their security work this week then I head back outside and over to my bike. It’s time to head home and make sure that my kids haven’t killed their babysitter today.

The ride home is short, and both kids are fast asleep in their rooms. Well, in Harley’s case, locked in her room with a motion detector aimed right at her window. She’s given me the slip far too many times to give her freedom. I just hope that I can reverse the bat-shit crazy that her mother let her get away with before it’s to the point of no return. I don’t want my daughter to be anything like her mother, and I’ll use force if necessary.

Walking into the bedroom, I strip off my cut and shirt and toss them across the chair in the corner by the walk-in closet. I remove my jeans and boots before falling into bed in only my boxers. It’s been a long fucking year, and it hasn’t been until recently that sleeping has become easier. It feels like I have been awake for weeks, but little by little, I am finding my way back to normalcy.