Beast (A Righteous Outlaws Novel #4) (The Righteous Outlaws) (11 page)

“I warned you.”

“I know,” I managed.

“You don’t listen.”

“So I’ve been told.” I glanced up at him, catching that dark hungry stare. “Why’d you do it?”

He ran a hand through his hair and took a step back, linking his fingers behind his head before dropping them to his side. He raised his hand like he was about to say something, but hesitated. His eyes met mine, and I swallowed down the desire that was still zinging through me.

“You’re infuriating. You don’t take no for an answer. You put your nose where it doesn’t fucking belong. You’re opinionated, and you know how to push my buttons without even trying. You get under my damn skin like a fucking itch I can’t scratch. You seem to pop up all over the damn place, and you smell so fucking good that it pisses me off.”

“Me smelling good pisses you off?”

“Yes!”

“Well, that’s stupid.”

“This whole fucking thing is stupid! You and me would never work. Couldn’t work. But, for some goddamned reason, you bring something out in me that has been dormant for so long. That went away the day…” He stopped himself, realizing he said too much.

“The day what?” He said so much already, there was no reason to stop now. He might as well put it all out on the table. I met his eyes with sincerity, wanting him to know that I wasn’t some cop trying to figure out his story, that I was a girl trying to figure out who this mysterious creature was standing in front of me. “Does it have to do with Annie?”

I didn’t know what I expected, but the door slamming in my face again definitely wasn’t it.

I
t had been
three days since I stupidly kissed Ryan, and three days of not being able to get her sweet taste off my lips and out of my goddamned mind. I did my best to avoid any run-ins. At night, when I went for a run, I went the opposite direction of where I bumped into her last time. I’d been throwing myself into work and, when Cash asked me if I could go down to the station and get an update on the Willie situation, I told him I couldn’t. I hated saying no to my president. More than anything, I hated saying no because I was avoiding some chick. It was stupid and childish, but I knew if I saw her I wouldn’t be able to keep my damn hands off of her.

She was right, too, and that pissed me off more than anything. It was an admission that nearly destroyed me. She might not have looked anything like Annie, but the way she pushed my buttons, insisting I talk, making me feel comfortable to the point where the quiet life I’d forced myself into slowly began to disappear, was exactly like her. And
precisely
why I needed to stay away from her. In my line of business and hers, it was a disaster just waiting to happen. I didn’t believe in happy endings, at least not anymore, but, when it came to me and Ryan, there wasn’t a chance in hell that this would end in a happily ever after. As far as I was concerned, this was a done deal. No way in hell would I go there again, no matter how hot her kisses were, or how good she fucking smelled.

I continued spraying black paint across the fender of a sedan when Cash walked into the booth. I gave him a nod as I focused on keeping my spray straight and steady.

“Willie’s funeral is today. I think we should go and pay our respects.”

I made my last pass, and put the paint gun down. “Do you think that’s a good idea? He hated us.”

“We need the townspeople to think we care. To show them that we’re invested in this town, and the people, just as much as they are. Willie was a royal pain in the fucking ass, and would probably sell me out to the cops in a heartbeat, but that’s not the point.”

“We have to make an effort to do the right thing,” I said, remembering Nick’s words from so long ago.

“Exactly. Sometimes, it means going to the funeral of the man that was trying to turn the town against us.”

“What time?”

“In an hour, we ride.”

“I’ll be there.”

I taped up another car, and prepped it for paint, before meeting the guys in the parking lot. We all had our cuts on, and that was about as dressed up as we were going to get. We hopped on our bikes, and Cash led the pack, followed by Kade and Phil. I stayed at the back, preferring to ride alone, rather than alongside somebody. It also gave me a better view of our surroundings. I knew Cash would keep an eye on the front, and, honestly, I didn’t trust Stumpy or Byrd to stay on the look out from behind.

It was a ten-minute drive across town, into the only cemetery in Black Hills. I hadn’t been back here since we buried Miles. I’d prefer to pretend the bastard got on his bike and went off on another bender. I didn’t like to think of him six feet under. Pain in the ass that he was, he was still my friend, and I missed him every day. A guy like him should never have met an end like he did. So, I liked to think he was getting stoned and fucking every piece of ass he could find instead.

As we pulled into the cemetery, that thought vanished at the sight of his grave. All the guys in front of me gave a one-hand salute as we passed. I followed suit, wishing there was more to life after death. That, although his physical body was buried here, he might actually be somewhere else.

Nick was on the far side of the cemetery, but we came upon Willie’s funeral procession first. We all parked our bikes in a row, and took our helmets off. I immediately spotted Ryan in the crowd, as if she had some sort of fucking magnet on her that lured me in her direction. Her hair was in a looser bun, causing wisps of dark hair to fall around her face. She wore a black dress that hugged her gorgeous curves, and a pair of heels that made my cock strain against my jeans.

She stood beside Stanson and behind Reed. Her hand rested on his shoulder and red, hot anger poured through me. I took steadying breaths to force the rage down, knowing damn well she was just being supportive, and it didn’t mean shit. Besides, I had no right to feel this way. I had no claim on her, and my head told me it needed to stay that way. But that thought didn’t lessen the tension in my shoulders. After that kiss we shared, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. The way she tasted, smelled and felt wrapped in my arms, became ingrained in my soul, and I couldn’t shake any of it. It was making me fucking crazy. The more I tried not to think of her or want her, the more I did.

The Outlaws stood off to the side, a way to pay our respects, but not get too close.

Ryan spotted me, and gave a quick quirk of her lips in acknowledgement. I nodded back, just as the familiar sound of Taps began to play. My body went on high alert, itching to get the hell out of there.

I hated that fucking music, and I swore to God they better not play it at my goddamned funeral. It was the most depressing fucking sound I had ever heard, and only served to remind me of every funeral I attended throughout my years in the military.

Every face infiltrated my mind, like fucking ghosts swirling around. I swallowed down the sudden uncontrollable anger that pumped through my veins, making what I felt moments ago seem like child’s play. I took deep calming breaths, like Nick taught me so many years ago when he realized my anger issues went much deeper than he ever imagined. I closed my eyes, and tried to focus on something that made me happy.

I thought of my bike, Beauty, my brothers, but bloodshed and carnage kept taking over. Visions of my world turning upside down, body parts flying around me, blood splattering in the air across my face.

I forced my eyes back open, only to meet Ryan’s. She held my gaze as if she knew, and, in that moment, looking at her, holding onto her eyes like they were my lifeline, I felt the rage subside. My blood stopped boiling, and my pulse evened out.

Ryan mouthed, “Are you okay?” and I hated that she knew how fucked up I was. She probably had her own problems. She moved here, and was taking over for her father; she didn’t need to worry about me, and she shouldn’t. We weren’t a thing and we never would be. I just had to make sure of that.

I looked away from her and instantly felt the anger rising again, as the last note was played. Reed turned and, as his eyes scanned over each one of us, his face distorted in rage. He stepped away from the gathering, and stomped toward us, his shoulders back, his fists clenched. Before he made it halfway, the rest of the crowd spotted us.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Reed demanded.

Cash stepped forward. “We’re sorry about your loss. We came to pay our respects.”

Reed all but choked on the manic laugh that blurted from his mouth. “Sorry? You’re sorry? You’re the reason my uncle is dead!”

“Why would you think that?” Kade asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“It sure as hell wasn’t an accident. It has Outlaws written all over it.”

“We didn’t do it,” Cash assured him, but Reed didn’t look like he cared what any of us had to say.

“I didn’t say you did, but that doesn’t mean it’s not linked to you.”

An older woman came upon us, pushing past Reed to stand directly in front of Cash. She was Aubree’s height, and barely came up to Cash’s chest. Her eyes were covered by thick black sunglasses and her blonde hair, with dark roots, sat just above her shoulders. She tilted her head, her pointy noise sticking high up in the air.

She removed her glasses, her eyes swollen, red and puffy. I recognized her. She was Willie’s wife. Her hand pulled back, and a loud smack echoed through the day as her hand made contact with Cash’s face.

Byrd moved, and I grabbed his shoulders. What the fuck did he honestly think he would do? She was a middle-aged woman in mourning.

Cash touched his cheek, but knowing Cash as long as I had, I knew it wasn’t the first time he had been smacked. Probably not even the tenth time. He used to rack up slaps like bookies racked up bets.

“My husband wanted to expose you for the true criminals you are. And don’t think for a second his death will put an end to that. I won’t rest until you all are behind bars.”

Fire erupted in my chest, spreading down my arms and up my neck. This fucking bitch, if she only knew the truth. Knew the shit we kept out of Black Hills. She wanted to get rid of us? Then, she would know what criminals fucking were. Gordita’s Army would move in and start recruiting the teenagers. The boys would be doing their bidding while the girls were being ogled… and worse. Montamos would deal on the streets, selling to kids. We might be in the drug business, but we kept that shit out of Black Hills. Not a single drug was sold within town lines, and we sure as hell never dealt to a kid. We might have been criminals, but we weren’t pieces of shit.

Drive-bys would be the norm, and her beautiful house that she probably never locked would be broken into within days of us being gone. She wanted to see what would happen if she got us behind bars? I say, let it happen. I was sick and tired of trying to make these fucking people like us. Trying to prove that we weren’t the enemy.

Cash though, like Nick, felt the need to belong in this fucking town, by these goddamned people who didn’t give two shits about us. I could feel myself losing control and, if I didn’t pull myself from the situation like Nick taught me, I would snap.

So, I left my brothers, got on my bike and drove off. Instead of leaving the cemetery, I found myself heading toward Nick’s grave. When people died, I never went to visit their graves. There was no fucking point. It’s not like they were actually there. Besides, they tended to stay with me, haunting my thoughts anyway. Except Nick. He was the only one who never made appearances in my nightmares.

I parked alongside a patch of grass, and made my way toward the stone that stood just a little higher than the rest. I waited for the visions of that day when he was murdered to hit me, but they never came. The only thing I could see was the day I stumbled upon Daly’s and met Nick. I didn’t know it then, but now I knew that moment changed my life.

I had gotten on my bike, searching for answers as I left my past behind. I made it all the way to Washington; two-thousand plus miles from where I started and I found shit. I was out of hope. My will to live was hanging on by a tattered thread.

My bike started acting up by the time I drove through Black Hills, and that had nearly been the last straw. I was about to say fuck it, just let it die on the side of the road, and I wanted to die right beside it. But, for reasons I’ll never know, I stumbled upon a garage. Daly’s came into view and I pulled right in, thinking this might be some kind of an omen.

Nick was the first person I spoke to, and we spent a good thirty minutes bullshitting about bikes and life. I had gone almost a week without any human contact. I hadn’t spoke to a single person until that moment. That tattered thread slowly thickened and strengthened. Before I left, I had a job, a new purpose, and, before long, a new family who I would kill for. For the first time since everything went to shit, I felt like I belonged again.

When Nick was killed, I almost fell into the dark hole that I had worked so hard to pull myself out of. The only thing keeping me from taking the plunge was him. I knew it wasn’t what he’d have wanted and, even though he was dead, I couldn’t, no I wouldn’t, disappoint him. It wasn’t an option, so I had to dig deep to find the strength to keep myself from going over the deep edge. I had slip ups, but so far I had managed.

I walked along the perimeter of the graves before I got close to Nick’s, and then up the middle until I stood in front of his. I got down on one knee, looking down at the fresh cut flowers, the framed picture of DC, and an angel figurine. It was no surprise to me that Sienna kept his grave as clean as she kept her house.

I leaned back, putting my weight on my foot. I wasn’t exactly sure what the hell I was doing. Did I say something? Did I just sit there and remember him? I always skipped this part of death, never looking back.

“Hey, you old bastard,” I finally said. “I don’t do shit like this, so consider yourself lucky. There’s a lot of shit going on, and I have faith in Cash, but I don’t know if I have faith in myself. The nightmares are back. The visions. The anger is building again. You were the only person who knew about that shit, and you always knew what to say to help me fight back. To not allow myself to get lost in the abyss. But, you’re not fucking here and I feel like I’m losing my goddamned mind. Then, there’s this chick.” I shook my head, imagining if Nick were here how’d he react to this news. “Stanson’s daughter who’s taking over for him. Believe that shit? Haven’t felt a goddamned thing for a single piece of ass in years, then finally I do and it’s her. It’s like someone is playing a game on me, and I swear to fucking God if it’s you, I’ll beat your ass the next time I see you.”

I laughed and ran a hand over my face. The sound of bikes echoed in the distance, and it was time to wrap it up. I stood up, looking down on Nick’s headstone, and tapped my fingers against it before getting back on my bike.

The guys drove by, one by one, each saluting toward Nick’s grave. Hudson pulled his bike out of the line and parked beside me. “You okay?” he asked.

Before I came here, I didn’t think I was, but now… “I will be.”

“Good shit,” he said. “Ready to ride?”

“Yeah. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

I put my helmet on and gave a quick glance over my shoulder to see Ryan making her way across the cemetery to where she parked her car. She started the car and took off, revealing a car I knew all too well. The anger that I finally got under control went right past hot to boiling.

I smacked Hudson’s chest, and gave a nod in Matias’s direction.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” Hudson asked.

“I don’t know,” I said through clenched teeth. He was in Outlaw territory, and it didn’t sit well with me that he was parked behind Ryan. Coincidence or not, I didn’t fucking like him anywhere near her. I had no idea why the fuck he was there. “But I’m going to find out.”