Banished Souls MC (6 page)

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Authors: Winter Hayles

BOOK: Banished Souls MC
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Cherish wanted to tell her it was alright but already Caine was moving past so she hurried through the crowd.

 

Caine was on a cell phone, talking intently. Cherish thought it was funny that anyone would try and hold a conversation in this place, let alone on a phone. But Caine was fully focused on his chat.

 

Cherish popped out of the crowd, directly in front of him. She grinned, almost overjoyed to see him again.

 

Caine, phone firmly attached to his ear glanced in her direction, gave a slight nod, and kept on walking. He passed her and vanished into the crowd heading toward the front door.

 

Cherish's heart plummeted in her chest. What the hell?

 

"They can be real assholes, you know?" Addie said suddenly from beside her.

 

"Yeah," Cherish said, getting upset. "Tell me about it." She tried to spot Caine, see if he realized his mistake and was coming back, but she couldn't see him anymore.

 

"He sure likes that phone," Cherish said.

 

"They all do," Addie said. "Come on. Let's dance!"

 

Cherish allowed herself to be pulled along, with no resistance. She didn't know what to think now. Was Caine just playing her? She was convinced he was into her, even more than a casual encounter would entail.

 

She and Addie danced. Cherish wanted to forget what happened and enjoy herself. Let Caine have his phone, and his business dealings. She was going to have a little fun, at least.

 

After a few dances, they returned to the booth. Cherish was feeling a little better but her frustration was growing. Then she was struck with a simple idea.

 

"Do you have his number?" Cherish asked Addie.

 

Addie's eyebrows popped up in surprise. "Girlfriend, you know the rules. Those guys give their numbers out, we don't." That was true, but Cherish suspected there was more to Addie's lack of willingness to share Caine's number.

 

Cherish sulked. She knew how paranoid Bikers were. Devlin was certainly one of the worst. Changing phone numbers every couple of days. Cherish had given up even trying to keep track of them which suited her just fine.

 

But if she could just talk to Caine, she could get a better idea of his intentions. Besides, she just wanted to hear his smooth voice again.

 

As she tried to content herself with watching other people enjoying themselves, dancing and having a good time, she noticed Basher nearby, talking animately on the phone.

 

He looks even more muscular than before, Cherish thought. Or am I just getting more tipsy?

 

Suddenly, Cherish was struck with an idea, watching Basher.

 

She shook her head, no girl, she thought, don't go there. That would be an evil plan. But the more she watched Basher the more it felt like it would work.

 

She sauntered over to Basher, the booze in her system making her  wobble. As she got closer she could actually hear him shouting over the music to be heard on the phone.

 

"It's done? It worked? Awesome! Ha ha!" Basher said loudly.

 

He noticed Cherish next to him and he straightened up. "Yeah," he said. "I gotta run. Things just got better on this end." He hung up and grinned at Cherish. "Well, hello again, little lady."

 

"Good news?" Cherish asked.

 

When Basher looked perplexed she pointed at his cell phone. "Did you just get some good news?"

 

For the briefest of moments a look of panic crossed Basher's face, then it was replaced again with a big smile and a chuckle. "Always good news with me," he said. "But do you want to know the best news of all?" He slipped an arm around her waist.

 

Cherish leaned into him, playing along. "No, what?"

 

"I'm here with you," he said. He slipped his cell phone into his  back pants pocket and put his other hand on her hip.

 

They both smiled at each other. Cherish caught a glimpse of Addie out of the corner of her eye. The other woman looked satisfied with something, then vanished into the crowd.

 

"So, you're a Banished Soul, huh?" Cherish asked, knowing full well he wasn't.

 

Basher never lost his grin. "Well, not a full member yet. But I'm tight with them. They rely on me for all sorts of stuff."

 

"How tight are you with them? You could just call any of them up, whenever you wanted?" Cherish asked. This time she slipped a hand around his waste and rested it on his buttock.

 

Basher was thrilled now, caught up in this beautiful woman's attention. "Yup. I'm pretty vital to them. In fact, it works best if I'm not patched in, yet," Basher said. "For legal reasons."

 

He sure knows how to lay it on thick, Cherish thought. But this was all good. Play up to a man's ego and you can almost always get what you wanted.

 

Cherish gently pulled away from Basher, who started to look a little confused, if not disappointed.

 

"Follow me," Cherish said. She slowly turned and walked away. She made sure her hips were emphasizing her request. She glanced behind her, and sure enough Basher was firmly in tow like a horny dog.

 

They both arrived at the manager's office door. "Is he here?" Cherish asked.

 

"Nah," Basher said, understanding her intent. He opened the door and lead her inside. "He's still recovering in the hospital. The idiot."

 

As Cherish entered he closed the door and flicked on the lights.

 

Cherish looked around. There was no evidence a man lost his dignity in here. Or that she was about to lose hers in the next few minutes.

 

But it would be worth it.

 

"I'll get these," Basher said, moving over to the inner window blinds, which were open to the bar. Cherish looked down at Basher's butt. The cell phone was outlined snugly in his pants pocket.

 

Basher closed the blinds and turned, catching her look. "Checking out the goods, huh? Well, there is a lot to check out."

 

Good grief, Cherish thought, but smiled salaciously at him. "Come here. I wanna see what else is worth checking out."

 

Her mind raced as to how to get access to Basher's cell phone without him noticing. She just had to play along until she came up with something.

 

As Basher eagerly moved in on her, she guided him to sit on the edge of the desk.

 

"Oh," she said, feigning concern. "Don't break your phone."

 

Basher, willing to do anything she asked, took it out and put it on the desk beside him. It was already forgotten as Cherish moved in for a kiss.

 

The kiss was hungrily returned, as Basher practically inhaled her face. His hands were suddenly everywhere on her body. Her butt, the small of her back, her breasts.

 

Cherish tolerated all of this. It wasn't so bad, after all. He was good looking, if not a little stupid. It would all be worth it.

 

As they made out, Cherish started to feel him up, as well. Good God he was cut, she thought. Muscles were always a good thing. But she just yearned for them to belong to Caine.

 

And she would feel his soon, if she could just pull this off.

 

Basher started to get more aggressive with his explorations of her, so she tried to take control of the situation by sucking on his ear. Then, to keep him still, and distracted, she moved a hand down over the tight bulge growing in the front of his pants.

 

Basher gasped, and Cherish tried not to roll her eyes. She sucked on his earlobe noisily.

 

"Oh, baby," Basher said. "That feels so good." He was almost moaning.

 

As she rubbed at Basher, she used her free hand to pick up his cell phone. If she tried to use it, the noise it made would draw Basher's attention, heavy petting or not. So Cherish starting sucking loudly, and said dirty things in his ear.

 

Between her sucking, dirty talk, and Basher's own pathetic noises of arousal she flipped through the cell phone's contact list.

 

Suddenly, Basher hitched up the back of her skirt, and slipped a hand down the back of her panties, right between her butt cheeks.

 

Just a few more seconds, Cherish thought, not losing sight of her goal.

 

Then she saw it. Or at least what she thought was it. A number listed to a "Cane". Now how many people named Cane or Caine could this guy possibly know?

 

She decided this was it and started to commit it to memory.

 

Basher was in full horny teenager mode, hands everywhere moaning and breathing noisily under the nimble skills of Cherish's mouth and hand.

 

"Hey," Basher managed to say. He started to push her back a little. Quickly she placed the phone down on the desk as quietly as she could.

 

Basher grinned, completely oblivious to what just happened. "How about a blow job?" And with that, he quickly whipped his member out.

 

Oh, God, Cherish thought. Not again. And in the same damn office, too!

 

This time, things were considerable bigger than before. Not that it made any difference. Basher was in for a disappointment.

 

"I dunno," she said. "I don't like to move that quickly."

 

Confusion, mashed with disappointed, was the only way to describe Basher's expression.

 

"What?" he said. There was a tinge of anger there.

 

Uh oh, Cherish thought. Now I've done it.

 

"But I thought..." he started to say when the door suddenly swung open.

 

A drunk man and woman, stumbled into the room. When they noticed Basher exposing himself, and Cherish standing next to him, the man asked, "Hey, want some group action?"

 

Cherish was already heading for the door. "Sorry," she called backed to them and a crestfallen Basher. "Not my scene!"

 

She raced through the bar and out into the night. She had a phone call to make.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 7

 

Caine

 

 

 

"Why do you have to look so stressed all the time," T-Bone said. "Have a drink, chill out."

 

Caine could barely hear T-Bone over the bar music. But he couldn't disagree. He was stressed out a little with the delivery. It was a big deal, after all. Not that T-Bone wouldn't take the opportunity to tease him about it.

 

Caine shrugged. "Yeah, you're right. Screw it. It's out of my hands right now." He took a fresh beer from a passing waitress and nursed a sip.

 

"That's better," T-Bone shouted. He was already getting drunk. Caine wished he could join him in his revelry but just couldn't. Not until the crates had been delivered could he really relax. But it didn't mean he couldn't pretend for T-Bone's sake.

 

"Hey," T-Bone said. "There's your new squeeze."

 

Caine looked where he was indicating. He saw Cherish immediately. She was making her way through the bar crowd, with Addie towing her along by the hand. They were with a bunch of other women.

 

Not that Caine even noticed them. He only could see Cherish.

 

Wow, he thought. She looked absolutely stunning in a skin tight dress.

 

Cherish and the other women vanished into the crowd, no doubt to sit at the table Addie always kept reserved.

 

Caine didn't quite know what to feel about Addie's focus on Cherish. It wouldn't end up good, regardless. Maybe he should do something about it.

 

Instead, he checked the time on his cell phone. It was twenty minutes past the designated delivery time. Angus, who was the van's driver, should have signalled by now.

 

Caine was starting to get seriously worried.

 

He sipped at his beer and caught a glimpse of Cherish through the crowd. She was sitting in a booth, with Addie chatting at her.

 

T-Bone was right. Nothing he could do right now, so why not take his mind of business and put it on something a whole hell of a lot more pleasant.

 

He started to walk through the crowd, in Cherish's direction when his phone vibrated.

 

He looked at its screen.

 

"LATE" was the text message.

 

Caine froze. Ah, crap.

 

He checked the number and the message was not from Angus, but from the buyer.

 

The buyer, who was the Banished Souls biggest client, had actually messaged him to say the delivery was late.

 

Damn.

 

Alarmed, he started to push his way through the crowd, this time toward the exit. He tried calling Pacer, but the phone went to voice mail.

 

"Something is up," he said. "Gimme a call. Now." As he spoke he almost didn't recognize Cherish standing near him in the crowd.

 

Lost in thought, he nodded to her but kept walking, hoping she would understand.

 

Once outside he headed to his camaro. His phone rang. It was Pacer.

 

"We got a problem," the Prospect said, sounding stressed.

 

"Okay," Caine said. "Let's meet." And hung up. They were not going to talk details over the phone. Instead, Caine got into his car and headed to their designated meeting spot, an abandoned car park several blocks away.

 

As Caine pulled in he saw Pacer was already parked there in a disposable crap car.

 

Caine pulled up to Pacer's car, so their driver windows were side by side, just like cop patrol cars did.

 

"We got hit," Pacer said, before Caine could speak.

 

Caine felt ice shoot down his spine. "The hell happened?"

 

Pacer kept his cool, hoping Caine wasn't the type to kill the messenger. He said, "Pedestrian found Angus' body about twenty minutes just outside of town on the side of the road. Shot in the head."

 

Caine's mind raced. "The van?"

 

Pacer shook his head with a grimace.

 

Someone had hit them, stole their goods, and killed one of the Club's own.

 

Someone with balls.

 

Caine glared at Pacer in confusion, "What about the secondary car?"

 

Caine had arranged for another Hang Around to follow the van at a distance, just as back up. It felt like the right call to make  considering the amount of money involved.

 

It was Pacer's turn to look confused. "Secondary? Grunt pulled that."

 

"What?!" Caine shouted, anger flaring.

 

"Said we'd never needed it before. That it was a waste of manpower."

 

Caine was beside himself with anger. Grunt had overruled him? Without even a discussion?

 

Caine cursed, punching at the car's dashboard. This was not good. Not good at all.

 

But, he had to keep his head in the game. Losing his cool would not resolve this screw up. But who screwed up?

 

Caine did. By trusting Grunt.

 

"Okay," Caine said after a few moments. "Where's Angus now?"

 

Pacer was somewhat relieved Caine was not raging on him. "At the morgue. Detectives all over him. They set up a crime scene by the highway where he was found."

 

Caine nodded. He doubted they would find anything. At least nothing linking his death to the Banished Souls. Not directly. There would be questions, but everyone was well versed on how to handle police enquires. Their lives depended on it.

 

This made him think of something else. Would whoever this was hit them again? Was it the start of a war with another Biker Club, or gang, or was this some rogue element with a death wish?

 

"You strapped?" Caine asked. "If someone is gunning for us, we all need to be prepared."

 

Pacer made a motion with his hand, indicating he had something under his jacket. "Ready for anything, boss."

 

"Okay. I want you to go back to the warehouse and double, triple check to make sure there is nothing there. I know you did this already, but with the pigs sniffing around I don't want any mistakes." Or more mistakes, he thought.

 

Pacer nodded. "It will be done."

 

Before Pacer could drive away, Caine said, "Hey, and keep your eyes peeled. Okay?"

 

Pacer nodded and pulled out into the night.

 

Caine had to think this through. But first, he needed to make a call to the client and smooth things over as best he could. He went to a 24 store and bought another burner phone. Then he parked behind the store and called the client with a number he had memorized.

 

The conversation was tense, but Caine kept his cool. He explained things would be looked into, and the client was not out any money, as Odin had arranged for there to be no deposit before delivery. He had wanted things to be good between all interested parties.

 

The client was not happy. Of course, they weren't out a van full of expensive liquor, and a dead man crossed off their roster. Caine was the one who really wasn't happy.

 

The client said he may be in touch again. Or not. Then hung up.

 

Damn, Caine said. He knew he had just lost the Club's biggest client. He had to talk to Uncle. This was just to big to handle on his own. Might even be far reaching if it had been another Club that hit them.

 

Caine checked his surroundings, looking for trouble. He didn't see anyone but that didn't mean anything.

 

He decided that what he really needed was a weapon. He didn't have one in his Camero, but he had one next to his bed at his apartment.

 

So he drove home. As he pulled into his parking spot his personal cell phone rang. After checking the number he answered it.

 

Caine said. "You heard?"

 

"Yup," Uncle's gruff voice answered. "Not a good situation all around."

 

"I dunno what to say," Caine said, and meant it. "Any ideas who could have handled an operation like that?"

 

"Someone in the know, probably," said Uncle. "But were gonna have to talk this over later. I put an alert out to the others, to watch their backs just in case there is more to come." Uncle sounded almost subdued, but he always sounded that way. Even when things got really rough he never lost his cool. Would explain why he was president.

 

"What should I do?" Caine asked, almost afraid to. This was serious and he was going to be held responsible, regardless.

 

"That will be discussed," Uncle said. This made Caine's blood go cold. "Until I say otherwise, keep a low profile. Pigs will be all over this. We gotta make enquires, but keep it quiet."

 

"Okay," Caine said. His mind raced. Then said, "You know the second party that had an interest in this?"

 

"Yeah," Uncle said, he knew Caine meant Grunt.

 

"Well, he did something stupid that made this worse."

 

Uncle sighed. "This will all be discussed. For now, though, keep things tight."

 

"Will do," Caine said, and Uncle hung up.

 

Caine sat in his car for a while, staring out at nothing. After a few minutes of fruitless thought, he headed up to his apartment, keeping one eye open for anything amiss.

 

He went inside, turned on the lights. He had to think this through. Sure, this could be taken in stride as a business risk, but it didn't mean he would take it lying down. Odin was going to raise bloody hell over this. But with the cops investigating Angus' murder, and with the Club potentially looking inward for a leak, things were going to get a lot more stressful for Caine.

 

He headed into the bedroom. The last thing he needed was more problems.

 

He turned on the bedroom light. Sitting on the bed was a grinning Addie. She was naked, and holding a bottle of wine.

 

"Hey, baby!" she said, her words slurred. "Want to party?"

 

Oh, for the love of... Caine thought as he looked at his crazy ex-girlfriend.

 

"What are you doing here? How the hell did you even get in?" Caine asked, trying to keep his temper in check. Addie was a crazy one, that was for sure, so he had to handle her the right way.

 

"I had extra keys made, from before," she said. She sat back in the bed, ample breasts jiggling with the motion.

 

Caine tried to ignore both her, and her breasts. He went to the bed side dresser. Addie was already reaching for him, grabbing for his crotch.

 

"You want me, right? You still love me?" She burped.

 

Caine kept her at arms length, and searched the dresser drawer. He found what he was looking for and pulled out the pistol. He checked to ensure it was still loaded.

 

This sobered Addie a little. "Whoa. You gonna shoot me now? I just wanna shag." She started to cry.

 

Caine rolled his eyes and slipped the pistol in the back of his waist band and covered it with his t-shirt. He really doubted anything else would happen tonight but he didn't want to take a chance.

 

He glared and Addie. "Gimme the keys," he said.

 

Addie stopped crying long enough to sniffle at him. "Why? I thought we were special."

 

"Not anymore," Caine said. Frustrated he found her clothes draped over a chair and searched the pockets.

 

"It's that blond bitch, ain't it?" Addie said, her voice getting louder.

 

Caine found the extra keys. He started separating them from her own apartment keys. He was trying very hard now not to lose his temper.

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