Annihilation Road (25 page)

Savage pulled on his jacket and gloves. “You keep her safe for me.”

“You don’t have to ask twice, brother,” Ink said.

Preacher nodded. “She’s safe.”

Savage took one last look at his woman. Her lashes lifted, and she looked directly at him with those teal-blue eyes of hers. His gut twisted. Never in his life had he been reluctant to go to a meet that could very well result in blood and death. That brought him up short.

As he made the ride to Boonville, speeding on his Night Rod Special, he thought about what he was asking of Seychelle. He wanted her to take a leap of faith and give herself to him. Just surrender everything. She would have to in order to live with him.

He was so fucked up he needed strict rules in his life in order to survive—in order for those around him to survive. His brothers and sisters in Torpedo Ink recognized that he had to live a certain way, and they gave him that space. It would be very difficult for a woman to do so. To give him
everything she was and more. He would demand so much more from her.

If he was asking that of her, to choose him over any other life, knowing what she was getting into—and it was only fair to warn her, to show her—then he had to give her something equal in return. Her life would be a sacrifice, most likely a continuous one. So what the hell was he going to give her back that was of equal value?

What did a man so fucked up, a man who actually lived up to his name of Savage, give to a woman whose life he planned to take over completely? Whatever it was, it had to be worth it to her. What would she value? What would make sacrificing her life for his worthwhile? Once she committed to him, there would be no going back. His fucked-up personality, as well as the lifestyle he would teach her, would never allow that. He needed her to want to stay—to choose him in spite of knowing just what she was getting herself into.

Loving someone, caring on any level, made a man—or a woman—vulnerable. Every member of Torpedo Ink knew that, knew what it was like to suffer, to do despicable things in order to save the life of a loved one. Even worse, you could allow yourself to be shaped into a monster in order to save those you loved.

He groaned aloud as he hurtled through the bends in the road, mostly straightening them out. He could outrun almost anything, and he knew every back road there was between Boonville and the coast. All of them did. They left nothing to chance. That was Czar’s training. The president of Torpedo Ink had drilled it into them that every detail counted. From the moment they had arrived and chosen Caspar as their home, they had begun to study every escape route possible. He could outrun the cops, but he couldn’t outrun Seychelle Dubois.

He was so in love with her, he could barely think straight. She had to know that. She had to know that he was giving her all of him. He’d sworn to himself, on the lives of his parents,
his sisters, on Reaper’s life, that he would never love another person so deeply that he would do anything to save them, no matter how vile. He did love her that much. More. She’d slipped inside him when he wasn’t looking and was wrapped there so tight, and she had to know. He had to tell her what that meant. It was the only thing he had to offer her—himself.

Seychelle had to know his life. It didn’t matter that no one else would ever have him or see that one tiny place inside him he had tried to hold sacred. She had to know that he took on the pain for his brothers and sisters and couldn’t stop even now, and what that meant for her. For them. What and why he needed her the way he did. Libby Drake was right. He had to risk everything and give Seychelle the absolute truth.

His Harley was fast, but Transporter and Mechanic had worked their magic and it was even more of a road rocket, with a wealth of hidden compartments allowing him to carry the tools he needed when he was sent on a job. He kept the weight light enough to keep the speed he needed if he was forced to outrun an enemy—or the cops. They never engaged with law enforcement. That was part of the code they all abided by. Unless, of course, a particular individual was corrupt. Then all bets were off.

The members of his club were waiting, and they weren’t happy. He was only a few minutes late, but those minutes counted. Those minutes were used to set up their escape routes and lay out their plan of action and the protection of their president. Savage had cut down their available time by being late.

“I’m sorry,” he said immediately, because he was. Not for the reason that he was late, but because he was Torpedo Ink and his club always came first. He’d screwed up, but this was his screwup, not Seychelle’s. “Had to retrieve Seychelle tonight. She came to the clubhouse and auditioned with the band, then got herself in a little trouble. Drank too much. Preacher and Ink are looking out for her.”

Czar looked him over carefully, as did his birth brother, Reaper. “You got your head in the game tonight? Because
I need you here with us. If you’re worried about her, that could be a problem,” Czar said.

“Wouldn’t be here if my head wasn’t straight, Czar,” Savage assured him.

Czar looked him over a second time and then nodded. “Let’s get this done. I have a bad feeling about this meeting. Something’s going down. Alena, you and Lana go in first. Get a feel for what’s going on. Reaper is with me. Savage, you’re our eyes on this one. You’re in the shadows. Remember, if we have to kill one Diamondback, we may as well kill them all. That club will hunt us to the end of our days. They will never forget. Having said that, you can fuck one up royally if you have to. Let’s try to get along, but if we have no choice, take them down hard but keep them alive. If you have to make a kill, that’s a signal to take all of them. No one gets away to warn the others. That gives us time to get out and get our families away.”

Savage studied Czar’s hawklike features. He was worried. A club like the Diamondbacks asking for a meet at three in the morning, not in either of their clubhouses, signaled trouble. The Diamondbacks had chosen a bar on the outskirts of Boonville. Torpedo Ink scouted the place out numerous times. It was closed, but the lights were on. There were bikes parked in the front along with a couple of cars. The Diamondbacks brought a full contingent. Plank wasn’t going to take any chances with Torpedo Ink. Technically, the Diamondbacks could call on them, and did, to go after enemies the club couldn’t afford to have traced back to them. This looked more like a war council. The members of Torpedo Ink nodded, their expressions sober. Like Savage, they understood this meeting could change everything.

Alena took lead. She sometimes hooked up with one of the Diamondbacks’ enforcers, a man who went by the name of Pierce. He was a former SEAL and had joined the Diamondback club years earlier, working his way through the ranks. The man could handle himself, there was no
question of that. If the president of his chapter was there, he would be as well.

She rode with Lana by her side into the parking lot of the bar and, in true Alena fashion, was off her bike without seeming to pay attention to the small group of women just getting into a car, obviously to leave. The moment they saw Alena and Lana, the women thrust open the doors and got out again.

Alena turned to Lana and took a small compact from her and began to fix her lipstick. Four women, led by Tawny Farmer, a woman who had been banned from anything to do with Torpedo Ink, surrounded the two newcomers. Alena glanced up as if just noticing them.

Several Diamondbacks emerged from the bar, hearing the sound of the motorcycles. Their prospect, no doubt, had reported the arrival of two of the Torpedo Ink members, with others coming in right behind them.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Alena?” Tawny demanded. “If you think you’re going to fuck Pierce, he’s already been taken care of. He’s with me now, not you, so keep your hands off him. I ride on the back of his bike and I fuck him until he can’t see straight.”

Alena looked her up and down coolly, one eyebrow up, but she said nothing. She glanced at Lana, who looked amused.

That only incited Tawny more. “You don’t have to believe me, but that stupid little video of you, naked, your fingers busy, and your fake moans, everyone has that. He mailed it to all the members of the club and showed it to me while we lay in bed together laughing over it.”

Alena didn’t so much as blink. Her expression remained as bored as ever. Lana rolled her eyes as if to say who cared who had a video.

Tawny shrieked and threw herself at Alena, her long nails curved like claws going for Alena’s face. At the last minute, Alena turned her head, but she didn’t try to defend herself or even block the series of blows Tawny rained down on her. Lana held herself very still. The other three
women shouted encouragements at Tawny and obscenities at Alena.

Pierce and four of the Diamondbacks pulled Tawny away from Alena. Czar, Reaper, Ice and Storm rushed the small group as Plank, the president of the Diamondbacks’ chapter, hurried out with two more of their club members. Pierce reached for Alena, but she stepped back to stand with her Torpedo Ink members.

“What the fuck just happened?” Plank demanded. He’d obviously witnessed it but couldn’t seem to believe his eyes.

“Seems that you can’t control your women,” Czar said, his tone low, furious. “My members know how to conduct themselves when we’ve been invited to an important meet. We don’t have club trash attacking the invited club.”

Tawny hissed an angry obscenity at him, but one of the other women tried to cover it by telling her to shut up. The man holding Tawny shook her like a rag doll.

Czar was so furious he simply looked up, whistled and did a low circle with his finger, indicating all of Torpedo Ink get on their bikes. Immediately, the club members complied with their president’s order, all of them returning to their motorcycles with the exception of Reaper, Ice and Storm.

“This is bullshit, and
insulting
,” Czar snapped, never once raising his voice, but his gaze flicked to Pierce briefly, then returned to center on Plank. “We gave you every respect, and to have a piece of trash like Tawny—and I don’t particularly give a fuck if she is riding on the back of your enforcer’s bike—attack one of my people is pure bullshit. He can’t control that shit, he isn’t where he should be. We’re gone. You have a problem with that, you let me know.”

He looked directly at Plank. “If this was a fuckin’ setup, you hopin’ my girls would fight so you’d have an excuse for a war, they’re too good for that shit. And just so you know, you would have been the first to die. We fuckin’ had you covered all the way, and you should have known that.”

He turned on the heel of his boot and started for his bike. Reaper didn’t move a muscle. Neither did Ice or Storm. They formed a line between Czar and the Diamondbacks. Each wore a grim face, one that said clearly that they were willing to die, but they’d take everyone with them.

“Pierce, that damn bitch is always causin’ trouble. What the fuck was she doing here? None of them should have been here. She just lost us one of the best support clubs we’ve got.” Plank hissed his displeasure, flicking his gaze at the group of women.

Tawny’s face had gone from white to so pale she looked like a ghost. She made a move toward the car, but three of the Diamondbacks cut her off.

“I have no idea how they found out about the meet, Plank, but I’ll get to the bottom of it. That’s Judge’s old lady.” Pierce glanced over his shoulder at the Diamondback behind him. “Tawny’s got a mouth on her. She’s never been on the back of my bike. I let her blow me, but I never talked about this meet to her.”

“You fuckin’ couldn’t keep it in your pants until we had this deal in the bag?” Plank turned away in disgust. “I want to know how she found out. And she’s banned. The rest are disciplined hard. I don’t care if they’re someone’s old lady, they had no fuckin’ business being here. Find out who let them come and why. I want a report. This was club business. Bitches weren’t welcome.”

Plank stormed back into the bar. Reaper, Ice and Storm made their way back to their bikes, all three eyeing Pierce. Storm gestured toward him, giving him the finger. Ice stared at him for a long time. He’d promised the man if he hurt Alena in any way, he’d kill him, and he meant it. He saluted and backed all the way to his bike. The three took off.

Savage waited until they were all the way down the road before he secured his rifle and slipped it into his carrying bag. He’d been so tempted to end Pierce, but Czar would never give the go-ahead until a sufficient amount of time
had passed. Only when no one would remember, when there would be no associating his death with Alena or Torpedo Ink, would he give them a green light.

Savage’s bike was parked up the road from the bar, deep in the shadows of the trees. He was making his way toward the bar, sliding up onto the roof, when a smaller shadow joined him. He closed his eyes. “Not a smart move, babe.”

Eavesdropping on the Diamondbacks was a risky business under any conditions. Alena listening in when she was highly emotional, even though she was a professional, might be courting disaster.

She gave him one emotion-laden look and, using toes and fingers, slid her body closer to the vent. The two of them entered the attic, which was open-beamed in several places, giving them both sight and audio to the small group gathered below.

Plank was still furious, pacing back and forth. “I want that bitch gone, Pierce. She’s been trouble since the day she came. She’s split up two families, and she’s trying to get my wife to think I’ve been with her, which is never going to happen. After the run, I want you to take care of that permanently, Pierce. You have a problem with that?”

“None at all.”

“What about you, Judge?” Plank spun around to confront his second-in-command. “I believe your old lady is her friend.”

Judge held up both hands. “Not anymore. That bitch stepped way over the line, and Theresa knows it. She tried to stop her. She already knows she never should have been here tonight. Tawny has way too much influence over all the women. I’m good with getting rid of her.”

“Wait until after the run. We can use the bitch to get information on the Venomous club. She likes to use her mouth. Let her actually be useful. You like that shit so much, Pierce, that you blew your one chance for us to have an in with Torpedo Ink.”