Burn: Outlaw Romance (Hotter Than Hell Book 3) (6 page)

AJ’s chair squeaks as he pushes it back and stands. I expect him to lay down his cut. He jerks his chin at me. “I don’t give a fucking fly’s ass about the color of a man’s skin as long as he’s not dangerous to this club or my woman. I need work ’cause the old lady’s having a baby. I like where you’re going with this. What you got figured for officers now that Fox is dead?” This is not what I expected from AJ, but pending fatherhood does strange things to a man. I’ve been there.

“Congrats, brother.” Coke slams him on the back and several others offer congratulations. I wait for the men to quiet. “Skull is my VP and Vampire Sergeant at Arms. Johns was an accountant before he got locked up in state, so he’s taking over as treasurer. Didn’t think we had any money for him to handle. Now he may have bitten off more than he can chew.” The guys laugh. “Coke wants no part of voting rights, so I say my new officers step aside and let the brothers vote for who they want to sit regularly at the table.”

Curly Sue, who’s been mostly silent, speaks up. “AJ has my vote.”

I look around and see a bunch of heads nod. AJ grunts. He backed Fox, but we all have respect for AJ. Unlike Fox’s other henchmen, AJ stayed out of your business and never ratted if you said something about Fox. “Anyone else?” I ask.

No one volunteers another name. “Show of hands for AJ,” I say.

All the men raise a hand.

For the first time today, I smile. “It looks like you’re the new secretary, AJ.”

“If my old lady doesn’t kill me, I’ll take the job,” he says with a grin.

That’s another thing I like about AJ…he has admitted to being pussy-whipped before and he has never cared about the hell the guys give him. A heavy feeling settles in my chest. I knew that feeling once too.

Sofia

I STAY THE NIGHT
in a small Las Cruces hotel. It’s clean, comfortable, and meets my needs.

I call Lorene, the only phone number in my new phone. She answers in a whisper. “Hey, can’t talk right now, girlie. I’ll call you back tomorrow.” The call ends.

Lorene has no idea I’m coming for Frank. She’s been part of the Desert Crows since Frank got my mother addicted to drugs. She also helped my mom escape. She’s a strange one and the closest person I have as a friend. We’ve never met in person, but I know she would try to stop me if she knew my plans. I stare at the phone in my hand before resting it on the nightstand. I need sleep. I close my eyes and think of revenge. The statue of the Virgin Mary and the peace of the mission creep into my mind.

I’m tired. Tired of being angry. Tired of living a half-life and tired of hatred. I fall asleep cradled in the serenity from the church.

I sleep better than I expected and wake up easily. Today’s the day. I should go for a run, but I decide on a large breakfast instead. There’s a diner across the street from the hotel. After I shower, I walk over. Mountains surround Las Cruces. This is a far cry from the more tropical climate of Florida. It’s just as hot, but low humidity makes it bearable.

I order a full meal. Maybe my last. I’m about four hundred miles from Peach City and I don’t know if my stomach will be able to handle anything when I’m closer to my goal. The food has too much salt and they used canned vegetables for my omelet. The orange juice is concentrate. Even so, it’s surprisingly edible. The coffee is good and strong, which helps too. I gaze out the window at the mountains. They’re beautiful in their own way. If somehow I survive today and escape, could I build a home here?

I cut off the thought. It’s too late for dreams.

The best I could hope for is prison. First degree murder is punishable by the death penalty in Arizona. I checked. So be it.

I toss three dollars on the table and walk out of the diner. I walk back across the street and jump in my car. I pull out of the parking lot and head to the nearest gas station to fill up. My money’s running short and if I were staying in a hotel tonight, I wouldn’t have enough. I jump on the highway and drive toward my destiny.

Daddy, here I come.

I turn off the radio and clear my head so it’s as barren as the landscape and search for peace that won’t come. Actual tumbleweeds roll beneath the tires as my car eats up the miles. I hit Phoenix a little after noon and stop for the restroom and more fuel.

I was right; my stomach can’t handle food right now. I’m not nervous, but the closer I get, the more anticipatory adrenaline pumps through my veins. It’s similar to how I feel before a fight. My phone rings after I finish filling the tank.

“Hey, lady,” I say to Lorene in a bullshit, upbeat voice. I don’t want anything to tip her off. I’ve figured out the general location of the clubhouse from talking to her through the years. I’m hoping she’ll give me a heads up if Frank isn’t there today. I just need to get the info in a roundabout way.

“That baby girl is safe and the shit’s really hit the fan,” she says. I won’t deny it’s a relief. I planned to call the cops before descending on the clubhouse and give them the information about the child they’re holding. This makes things neater. “I have good news for you,” Lorene continues. “You shouldn’t tell someone over the phone that their father is dead, but I didn’t think you’d mind hearing it. Dagger, one of the club members, is the new president. He killed the son of a bitch yesterday. He also got the baby to a safe place. There are some big changes coming.”

“Dagger?” I say in shock. My heart is doing double-time and a knot is growing in the pit of my stomach.

“Yeh, he’s about the nicest piece of man meat in these parts. Makes a woman stupid just lookin’ at all those hot muscles. I’ve had my eye on him for a while now. Killed the man who killed his wife, stabbed him to death. Did his time and has been running with the Crows since. He didn’t like the bullshit your daddy did with the club. That was sure as shit just from lookin’ in his eyes. That man carries a lot of anger, reminds me of you sometimes. I’m telling ya, the club can only go up with him as prez.” She gives a throaty laugh. “I need to go. I just wanted you to know that your old man is no longer breathin’ air. Days like today are made for celebrating. Have a cold one for me.”

She clicks off and I listen to dead air for a moment without pulling my phone away from my ear. My fingers tremble when I finally toss it in the seat next to me and grip the steering wheel. My vision goes dark around the edges. I breathe in and out and before I know it, I’m hyperventilating. The rage builds. It hasn’t been this bad in a long time. “No,” I scream into the car. This can’t be happening. All these years of planning and my revenge is gone in one phone call. Gone when I’m finally within an hour of fulfilling my dream to destroy the man who caused so much pain.

I don’t remember pulling out of the gas station and I’m barely aware of my surroundings. My phone gives directions and I mindlessly follow. Before I realize it, I’m heading out of Phoenix on Highway 87. I’m on autopilot and I need someone to suffer. Why? No one has a right to kill my father except me. No one!

Dagger… why the hell would he ruin my plans now? My rage carries me through the desert. I finally see the sign for Peach City. The name is a joke. The area is practically barren with only small shrubs and hills in the background. “Fucking Dagger,” I murmur out loud.

I see the burned out property I’ve been looking for on the east side of the road. Lorene mentioned in one of her phone calls that it was a nostalgic junkyard of motorcycles and bicycles until it burned to the ground a few years ago. I turn onto the road directly past the blackened lot and travel about a mile. The pavement ends and I’m on dirt. I bounce around over potholes but don’t consider slowing. My focus is on reaching the clubhouse.

I only slow to make the turn between double wood poles that signal I’ve found what I’m hunting for. Men are working in the yard dragging junk into a pile. The area is mostly clear and the stack of debris is huge. I stop the car and slide my gun from beneath the seat. Several of the men stop working and check me out. Keeping the gun in my lap, I remove it from the holster and slip it beneath the waistband of my jeans. I swing the car door open and step out into the boiling heat of the afternoon sun.

The mostly bald-headed men stand watching me—some with wife-beater T-shirts and some shirtless. They’re scum. My father’s scum. He owned these men, pulled them around by proverbial rings in their noses. “I’m here to see Dagger,” I say loudly while stepping over a pile of motorcycle parts. I walk a few feet forward.

A man working more to the side of the building drops a shovel and strolls my way. And, it is a stroll. He’s confident and deadly; you can tell by the way he holds himself. A red and black bandana wraps around his brow without hiding his shaved head. Even this far away, I notice his eyes. They’re shards of blue that stand out from the sweat and grime on his face. His chest is bare with defined muscles that slide beneath the skin as he strides a few steps closer. Dirty sweat trails down his chest in rivulets. The tattoos stand out on his tanned skin. Prison tats from the color. I lift my eyes to his without dissecting the artwork. I’ve seen few men as stunning as he is. A tingle glides across my nipples and lower to settle between my thighs.

This is what Lorene was talking about and I know who I’m staring at.

My rage from the last hour turns to a low simmer. It’s difficult to disregard the sexual signals thrumming through my body. He’s tall and younger than most of the other men out here. God decided to play a joke on every red-blooded, dark-skinned woman when he gave this man breath. He should be modeling and not associating with trash. Who am I kidding? He’s trash and just because he’s attractive doesn’t mean he has a brain.

He isn’t smiling, but it doesn’t take away from his gorgeous face. He has high cheekbones and a square jaw with a few days’ stubble. I want to hold his gaze, but I can’t stop myself from taking another swipe of his body. I need a bottle of wine and an hour to run my tongue over the crazy ridges on the sides of his abs that lead straight down into mega-man territory.

Am I drooling? I’ve seen men look at me in a similar fashion. Most I ignore. Every so often, I take one for a ride and fuck his brains out. Nope, won’t happen this time; this one belonged to my father. He’s a killer just like Frank was. I’ll be joining that club soon enough, and, for the craziest reason… I smile.

He smiles back having no clue that I want him to die. The smile is full and sensuous with a dimple on one side of his mouth. My pulse quickens with the need to bite his lower lip and sink my fingernails into his flesh.

Fuck, stop
, I implore myself silently.

He knows the effect he’s having on me because his smile widens. “I’m Dagger. May I help you?” His name on his lips brings me out of the spell he’s wrapped around me.

The world goes still. My entire life spirals to this moment—my mother, foster parents, social workers who never cared, and the tears of a scared child with no one to fight for her. Frank…Fox, whatever the fucking name he goes by, my father—is the man who destroyed my mother and killed her unborn children.

The gun is in my hand without a thought. Darkness invades my vision. It all happens so quickly. I aim dead center for his chest. Someone yells, “Gun,” beside me. Pull the trigger, I tell myself. Fucking pull. The barrel moves higher—over his head and the gun goes off at almost the same time someone tackles me.

My head hits something hard. Too hard. The bright sun fades to black.

Dax

“
WHAT THE FUCKING HELL
?” I yell. I run at the woman, but Coke and Loki beat me to her. They take her down hard and she cracks her head against the motor of an old bike.