Biker's Claim: A Bad Boy Romance (Demons MC) (Contains bonus book Cocked!) (24 page)

“Listen, we have to get out of here. We don’t have much time.”

“You just killed them,” Mom said softly.

“They were going to kill us.”

“We need to call the police,” Jeff cut in.

“No police. If we call the cops, I’m going to prison and you’re all going to die.”

They gaped at me, clearly at a loss, as I ripped the tape from their wrists.

“What did you do?” Jeff asked.

“Cam, we need to leave,” Trip said, looking out a window. “Curious neighbors are gathering.”

“Mom, Jeff, I lied about what happened in Mexico,” I said, helping them up. “I got caught stealing and running scams, that part’s true, but I was caught by a drug cartel.”

More lies. Lies on top of lies.

“A drug cartel? Why?” Mom asked.

“They recruited me. They wanted me to work for them.”

“They’re Mexican drug dealers?” Jeff asked.

“Me and this guy,” I said, nodding at Trip, “were both members of the cartel. But something happened and now we’re wanted men.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. Somebody tipped me off that the cartel planned on killing the two of us, and so we ran.”

I hated lying. But what else could I do? I wasn’t allowed to tell them the truth, and the off chance that my handlers could help one day was worth keeping their secrets.

“This is insane,” Mom whispered, her eyes wide.

“I know. I’m so sorry I brought this down on you.”

“We need the police,” Jeff said again.

“Jeff, forget the fucking police. We need to run, and we need to run now.”

“What about Lacey?”

“We’ll get her on the way.”

“Where are we going?”

“Alaska. We know some people there that can keep us safe for a while, at least until I can get in touch with my handlers and get this shit figured out.”

“We can’t leave here,” Mom said. “This is our home. This is insane.”

Trip walked over. “I’m sorry, folks. But what he’s saying is the gospel truth. We need to go right this second. There are two people out there on phones, and I’m guessing they’re calling the cops.”

I looked at my mom, pleading. “You have to believe me, Mom. I would never have done any of this if I had any other choice. You have to trust me.”

She stared at me quietly for a second, took a deep breath, and seemed to gather herself.

“Okay. I’ll go.”

“What?” Jeff said. “No, Lynn. We’re waiting for the police.”

I looked at Jeff. “My mom is coming. You can stay and get murdered if you want, but I’m also getting Lacey and getting the fuck out of here.”

He clenched his jaw. “I always knew you were a low-life piece of shit.”

“Yeah, maybe. But right now I’m your only ticket to a continued life.”

He didn’t respond, and so I nodded at Trip. I walked over to Juan’s body and grabbed the phone from his hands, careful not to step in blood, and then led my mom out the back door. I snapped the phone and tossed it away. We crossed through the back fence, cut through the neighbor’s yard, and were out on the opposite street.

Trip followed with Jeff, both moving right behind us. My mind was swirling with possibilities.

“Do you have cellphones?” I asked Mom.

“Yes.” She looked at Jeff and he shook his head.

“Smash it.”

“Smash my phone?”

“They can potentially track us.”

She pulled it out of her pocket and held it out to me. I ripped out the battery and threw it away.

“We need a car,” I said to Trip.

“Around here.”

I followed him down the street, made a right, and saw the black car up ahead.

“Good thinking.”

“Always be prepared,” he said, grinning.

He unlocked the doors and I helped my mom climb in. She was white as a ghost, probably still in shock, but she wasn’t hyperventilating or screaming. Actually, she seemed like she had her shit together, or at least as much as was reasonable.

Jeff, however, looked angry. I knew he was going to be a problem, and sooner rather than later. But I couldn’t deal with him, not yet. Trip climbed into the passenger’s seat and I got into the driver’s side.

“We need to get my stepsister,” I said.

Trip nodded. I started the car and pulled out.

It was silent for the first part of the trip. I could sense the terror rising in the back seat. I wanted to yell at Trip, scream at him, beat his face until it was a bloody pulp. I wanted him to spit blood and teeth into my hands.

But I needed him for the moment. The piece of shit had fucked up and put my family in a lot of danger, but he had also shown up when I needed him.

As far as I knew, they’d never seen someone get killed before. I could only imagine what was going on inside their heads.

“Cam,” Trip said softly, turning up the radio slightly. “We need to talk about this plan.”

“What’s wrong?”

“They got to that house pretty fast, didn’t they?”

I nodded. The same thing had occurred to me, though I wasn’t sure what it meant.

“So what?”

“So they’re not messing around.”

“Juan was on the phone just before I shot him.”

Trip raised an eyebrow. “With Mexico?”

“I think so.”

“Then they probably know we’re here.”

“Think they have other people in the area?”

“Maybe. But do we really want to find out?”

I was silent then, chewing it over. We pulled into the Salty Whale’s parking lot a few minutes later, and I cut the engine.

“Be careful, Cam.”

“I will.”

“What’s happening?” my mom asked.

I looked back at her. “I’m getting Lacey. Then we’re hitting the road.”

I checked my gun. I had some bullets left but not a full clip. I slipped it back into my pants.

“Be back in a minute,” I said to Trip. He nodded.

I climbed out of the car, my mind a mess of conflicting emotions.

What could I possibly say to Lacey to convince her that I wasn’t joking? Our parents had just seen me kill a man, which made it simple to convince them that something was going on. But Lacey was still blissfully unaware, although I had told her some of the truth earlier.

I was probably going to have to drag her out of there, I realized.

I grinned to myself. That might actually be pretty fun.

I
leaned
up against the old bookshelf, making sure that my elbows didn’t accidentally cause a paper avalanche, and began to read. It was an older book about a huge scoundrel and the lady he wanted, and although I wouldn’t have told my friends about it, I had to admit that I loved a good trashy romance every once in a while. After a long day at work, nothing beat some sexy guy taking what he wanted.

It was a great escape. It hadn’t been the easiest of days at the bookstore, and my conversation with Camden kept running through my mind. I couldn’t really believe his story, that he was involved with a Mexican drug cartel and that they wanted to harm us, but I also couldn’t imagine that he’d make it up.

So why only tell me the truth and not our parents? That part didn’t make sense. Well, the whole thing was absurd, but that part kept sticking with me. He was so frustrating, such a selfish prick, that sometimes I couldn’t stand him. And yet he was the only person I thought about all day long, even if it was about how much I wanted to slap his handsome face.

But reading that romance novel made the world suddenly light. It wasn’t going to solve any of my problems, but it sure was entertaining and absorbing. So absorbing that I didn’t notice him approach until it was too late.

“Lacey.”

I looked up, startled, quickly shutting the book. “Camden?”

“We need to talk.”

“What do you want? I’m at work.”

I frowned at him, but the expression on his face brought me up short. He looked as serious as he did when he first told me about the cartel and the trouble we were all in, and it took my breath away for half a second.

“Something happened.” He paused and looked at the cover of the book I was reading, a smirk covering his face. “Nice book.”

I glanced down at it. “Shut up, okay?” I felt a blush rise to my face.

“I had a feeling you’d be into something like that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re much dirtier than you pretend.”

I felt a thrill run through me. “What do you want, Camden? I’m busy.”

He sighed, gathering himself. “You need to come with me.”

“No, thanks. I still have an hour on my shift.”

“Something happened with our parents. They’re outside in the car.”

I paused. “Are they okay?”

“They’re fine. But . . .” He trailed off, shaking his head. “You won’t believe me.”

“Then don’t bother.”

I moved past him, heading toward the back of the store. I heard the floor creak as he followed me.

“You’re not safe here, Lace. We need to go right now.”

“Go where?” I didn’t bother looking back as I idly straightened up the books, heading for the second floor.

“Away from here. The Mexicans caught up to us. I have to pull our parents out.”

“Oh, the Mexicans are here,” I said, rolling my eyes. “How convenient.”

I went to step up onto the staircase when he grabbed my arm, his grip firm and pulling me back. I stumbled and nearly tripped over a stack of unfortunately placed books and slammed directly into his chest. It was like hitting a brick wall, if that brick wall were made of muscle and smelled incredible.

“I’m not fucking around,” he growled, his hand tightening. “We have to run.”

I looked up at him, shocked. He’d never talked to me that way before, let alone grabbed me. I almost didn’t recognize the man that was staring back at me.

“Let me go, asshole,” I mumbled, trying to get away.

He held me tight. “We walk out together or I carry you. I’m not joking around.”

“Don’t be such a dick.” His grip was almost painful, but part of me liked it. I liked how close I was standing and how intense he looked. I knew he was just messing around with me, and was probably going to admit to the joke any second, but I wanted to drink him in while I had the chance.

Because in two seconds I was going to slap the shit out of him.

“Okay,” he said, and suddenly he wrapped his arms around me.

“Camden, what the fuck!” I said as he lifted me up off the floor. I struggled slightly, kicking my feet, but still careful of all the books all over the place.

“Calm down, Lace,” he said as he walked toward the front, my body thrown over his shoulder like it was nothing.

“Put me down, you psycho!”

I punched his back a few times, shocked he’d actually grab me like this. While I was outraged, there was a part of me that was beyond excited. I could feel how wet I was already, which only made me more angry and embarrassed.

“I told you I had to do this.”

“You can’t just pick someone up whenever you want.”

He grunted and adjusted his grip, throwing me farther over his shoulder. I let out a gasp and a small yell and started to punch him in the back even harder.

“Put me down, you fucking asshole.”

“Stop punching me,” he grunted as he moved fast toward the front door.

“Is everything okay?”

I looked up at the owner of the Salty Whale, Mr. Ellsworth. He was an old man, easily in his seventies, maybe his eighties. He wore the same dress slacks and dress shirt every day, and his hair was a shock of white cotton puff dropped on his wrinkly head. His eyes were narrowed at Camden and me as Camden blew past him.

“We’re fine,” I called out at Mr. Ellsworth. “This is my asshole stepbrother.”

Camden just grunted and kept moving, completely ignoring Mr. Ellsworth. He crossed the room in what seemed like three steps while I continued to punch him in the back and yell at him, but he didn’t flinch. He didn’t even seem to feel it as he pushed through the front door one-handed and barreled over toward the car. I felt like I was floating, locked against his hard body. It simultaneously excited and angered the shit out of me.

He dropped me back on the ground. Rage flowed through me, making me see red, all excitement gone. Who the fuck did he think he was, picking me up like a child and throwing me over his shoulder? I reached back my hand and whipped it at his face, but he moved even faster than I thought possible and caught my wrist a few inches from his cheek.

“You’ll thank me later,” he growled at me.

“Let me hit you and I’ll thank you.”

“Get in the car.” He nodded and I followed his gaze.

The look on my dad’s face drew me up short. It was pure fear and worry, and he was looking around the parking lot like someone was going to follow us any second. Meanwhile, Camden’s mom was crying softly to herself and staring down into her lap. Another man, gruff looking like Camden, was sitting in the passenger seat.

“What’s going on?” I said, and Camden let my hand drop.

“Told you. Mexicans caught up to us.” He gave me a gentle push toward the car. “Get in and I’ll explain.”

“Why is Lynn crying?”

“Lacey,” he said, exasperated. “Get in or I swear I’ll shove you in head first.”

I found myself moving toward the car, compelled by some invisible force. Whatever humor or lightness in his voice from earlier in the day was completely gone, replaced by a business-like seriousness that seemed totally out of his character. Or at least it used to be. I realized I didn’t know the new Camden. Although I saw his old self there in everything he did, there was a new aspect to him overshadowing that old self completely.

He pulled open the door for me and I climbed in.

“Lacey,” Dad said, wrapping me in a hug.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

Camden shut the door and walked around the car, climbing into the driver’s seat.

“Took too long,” the man I didn’t recognize said.

“Shut up, Trip.” Camden put the car in gear and pulled out of the spot.

“It was so horrible,” Lynn mumbled.

“Dad?” I asked him.

“We need to go with Camden now, sweetie.”

The fear in his voice sent a jolt of lightning through my core.

Was it really true, everything he told me?

There was no way. It was too wild, too insane. And yet the look on Lynn’s face and the fear in my dad’s voice both suggested that something real and really bad was going on.

Camden pulled out of the parking lot and started to head west toward the border of town. He was driving fast but not dangerously, and his gaze didn’t stray an inch from the road.

“Is someone going to tell me what’s going on?” I snapped.

The man called Trip turned around and looked at me, a sheepish smile on his face.

“Everything’s okay,” he said.

“Who the hell is this?” I asked my dad.

He shook his head. “Friend of Camden’s.”

“I’m Trip.”

“I swear I’m climbing out of this car in one second if someone doesn’t start talking.”

“I already told you,” Camden said loudly. “The cartel is here and we need to get out of town.”

I looked at my dad, and the look on his face all but confirmed it.

“What happened?” I asked him softly.

“We had no clue,” he said slowly. “I answered the door, assuming it was just someone trying to sell something. They came in and tied us up, started to threaten us, said they’d kill us if we didn’t find Camden.”

He paused and looked away. A stone the size of the Rocky Mountains lodged itself into my guts.

“That can’t be real.”

He looked back. “Camden showed up. He killed the guys holding us captive and here we are.”

I looked at Camden. “You killed someone?”

He didn’t look back at me. “Only because I had to.”

Lynn began to cry harder and Dad turned to comfort her, speaking softly into her ear.

“We need to call the police,” I said.

“No cops,” Trip and Camden both said at the same time.

“They can help us,” I said, confused. Why wouldn’t we call the police? Why were we just driving when Camden had killed someone?

“No, they can’t,” Camden said. “Trip, you explain.”

Trip looked back at me, still smiling his sheepish smile. I wanted to smack it off his face but kept myself under control.

“If the cops come, me and Camden are going away. Once in prison, we’ll get shanked in some dirty shower one night, and you all will get murdered in your beds.”

“That can’t be true. The police can protect us.”

“No, they can’t. The cartels have more money, time, and manpower than any police agency. Now that two of theirs are dead, El Tiburon won’t stop until he gets revenge.”

“El Tiburon? Is that a joke?” My brain wracked itself for what I remembered from Spanish class, but it couldn’t find anything.

He shrugged. “Cartel leaders like to have nicknames. His means ‘The Shark.’”

I sat back in my seat, shock washing over me in waves. Lynn continued to cry and Dad continued to comfort her while Camden stared at the road stone-faced and Trip fiddled with the radio.

I stared out the window, practically numb. This couldn’t be happening. Camden just came back, out of nowhere, and suddenly he was bringing down the wrath of some random Mexican drug cartel. Not to mention he was murdering people now, too.

“This doesn’t make sense,” I mumbled.

“I’m sorry, Lace,” Camden said.

I glared at him. “Don’t talk to me. You did this to us.”

His expression didn’t change. “I know. And I’m sorry this is happening.”

“Great, Camden is sorry yet again. How many times do you get to royally fuck our lives up before you just go away for good?”

“Damn,” Trip muttered.

Camden was silent for a minute. “I’m going to fix this,” he said finally.

“Yeah? Are you going to somehow go back in time so Lynn doesn’t have to be totally traumatized? Are you going to make this cartel magically go away?”

“I’m going to fix it,” he repeated, and the car fell into silence.

As we got onto the highway, heading west, driving fast away from town, I realized that all of my plans had changed irrevocably. It seemed almost trite and silly to realize that my summer plans were all out the window, but I had been banking on a certain kind of life.

Now, suddenly and without warning, Camden was back and we were on the run from Mexican gangsters. No matter what happened, nothing was ever going to be the same for us again. My life was changed forever.

All because of him. That bastard, that self-absorbed, cocky asshole. No matter how he made me feel when he was around, he ruined everything. He was an unstoppable hurricane, even years ago. He did whatever he wanted and didn’t care about the consequences.

Suddenly, my whole life was a consequence of his stupid mistakes. We were all getting dragged down.

And yet, for as angry and shocked as I was, part of me believed we’d make it out alive.

If there was anyone in the world that could fix our fucked-up situation, it was him. As much as I hated to admit it, I knew it was him.