Damaged & Dangerous: The Sacred Hearts MC Book VI (3 page)

Red-XIII…

I leaned back in an old, tired recliner, and watched Raccoon
move behind the bar. Girl was getting sick. She looked wrung out.
Just exhausted; deathly pale, and she had a dry cough
coming on.
I got up, went to the very end
of the bar, and took a seat there
. She drifted over after the patched
members
were all served, and her so-blue eyes
drifted slowly from the bar top, up to meet mine.

“What can I get you,” she
asked. I titled my head, considering.
She
had on a tight, long-sleeved, black top that accentuated her curves. The
material was cut in front, over her chest, to create the illusion of an
asymmetrical window pattern, giving glimpses of the pale skin beneath.
It
was sexy as hell. Not because of what it showed, but more for what it didn’t.
Small peeks, the illusion of mystery. I liked her style.

My eyes fixed on a necklace below the hollow of her throat.
It was a crown.
White gold, or maybe silver?
Nope, gold. By the way the dim light of the club was reflecting off it, I was
pretty sure.
The piece was wide,
the
necklace chain attaching to points at either end
of the crown. It was
made to
look like the real deal, set with
diamonds in a Marquis cut at regular intervals. Between each set of diamonds
was a blue stone – something super light, maybe sapphire, in round cuts. The
crown sat on the flat of her chest, beneath her graceful throat. But the
piece
de resistance
was a sword, thrust up through the circle of the crown, at an
angle, just like the Suicide King on the playing card.

“Hey, Prospect! My eyes are up here,” she snapped her
fingers in front of her chest and
my eyes
snapped to them. She brought her hand up and, of course, I followed her fingers
up to her equally snapping blue eyes.

“What’s your name,” I asked.
She frowned, her dark brows crushing downward
.

“You know my name,” she said thickly, “They call me Rac on a
good day, Coon the rest of the time.” She shrugged, “Now what do you want?” It
was one of the things that impressed me about Coon. She still stood up for
herself. 
Even to Pig-Pen, on occasion. But,
looking into those blue eyes of hers, I could see it was pretty much all
bravado. The glint of fear was always there, just beneath the surface.

“Now, we both know that ain’t
your name, Gorgeous.” I gave her my best smile, which made her frown.

“What does it matter? It’s who I am now. You drinking or
not?” Her irritation was clear but I wasn’t easily deterred.

“
Jack and Coke. And, it’s
what they call you, not who you are.
”

“Okay.”
She leaned forward
with a quick, spidery glance around us to take in who was there. Satisfied that
no-one was paying attention to us, she spoke just loud enough for me to hear.
“What’s
your
real name, then?”

Interesting. So she’d been around the MC life long enough to
know that you just didn’t ask that, but she was still brave enough to do it
anyways… I smiled genuinely.
I liked her moxie.
The girl had a fire inside, or a death wish.
I couldn’t help my mind
drifting back to her sprawled on the fucking pool table while Pig-Pen
rutted away. Back to the glazed, faraway look in her
eyes. To the shame and pain in those eyes when she’d caught me looking at her,
before she’d turned away.
 

I looked around and leaned
forward. This was
dangerous.
Names were
powerful things. Names led to records, records to histories best left buried.
Especially in my case. But I wanted her to trust me and in order to earn trust,
you had to give a little, right?

“Chris,”
I told her. It was
true, but it was also pretty generic.
She rolled her eyes and I smiled.
I knew she was smart. “You gonna tell on me?”
I
asked. Her expression cooled considerably, and she looked up the bar toward
Pig-Pen. He was deep in conversation with Spade and Dredd, the club’s Treasurer
and Secretary
. She turned back to me, her china doll face so solemn.

“Don’t tell me your last name,” she said quietly. I raised
an eyebrow.

“
Now, why
would you
say a thing like that?” I asked. Her cornflower blue eyes
flicked to my own and, with another careful glance to
see who was nearby and who was listening, she resolutely shut her mouth and
poured my Jack & Coke, shaking her head just a little.
I leaned over
the bar,
reaching out a finger. She flinched
backward, but in the end she stood her ground.

“Nice piece,”
I said. I brushed
the crown
where it rested against her chest, the metal warm from her
skin.

“Thanks,”
She said with a
tremble, visibly nervous
.

“Pretty-boy!” Pig-Pen slapped the back of my cut and I sat
back. Coon slid my drink across the bar to my hand. I smiled at her as I took
it. “Got a thing for my bitch?” he asked me.

“Nope, just got a thing for her taste in jewelry, that’s a
nice piece she’s got there.” Pig-Pen looked at the crown and sword necklace.
She took it off and handed it to him.

“I was waiting for you to finish talking, I didn’t want to
interrupt you,” she said. Pig took the necklace from her hand and stared her
down. She licked her lips and rushed out, “I finished it last night and that
other thing you wanted done? It should be done in a day or two. I just need to
cast a couple more settings for it, find the right
size and shape stones.”
She smiled bravely and Pig-Pen pocketed
the necklace, nodding.

“You just keep being useful,” he said quietly, menacingly.
Coon nodded rapidly. Pig pointed down the bar, away from us, “Now go be useful
over there.”  

I raised an eyebrow and
watched her, shoulders hunched, head bowed, as she ghosted down the bar to the
other end. Skid was there, and he smiled at her, engaging her in conversation.

“Got somethin’ for you to do,” Pig-Pen commented dryly.

I turned my attention back to the man. “I’m listening.”

“The bitch Gordy has in his pocket came through. Found out
where one of those holier-than-thou fucks is
layin’
his head at night, and it ain’t at their clubhouse
like a lot of the
rest of them scared-ass pussies.” Pig-Pen eyed me carefully. “Go with Axe and
Corbin while they take care of business,” he grated. I nodded slowly.

“When we doin’ this?”

“Now! Jesus Christ, Man!” he gave me a little shove with his
shoulder.

“Like Jack & Coke?” I asked with an impetuous grin.

“Yeah, why?”

“Had one made, just for you,”
I handed
him my
drink, and he boomed
out
a laugh that sounded like fucking cannon fire. I walked down the bar and caught
sight of Corbin and Axe by the
door to the
parking lot. They each nodded at me before slipping out
.
I moved that direction, pausing when something caught
my sleeve as I passed the hall to the bathrooms. I turned and looked over my
shoulder.

“Dani.” She swallowed hard and let the sleeve of my jacket
go. “My name is Dani,” she said nervously, melting back into the shadows of the
corridor
, where she was less likely to be seen
by Pig.
I made like I was going through my pockets looking for
something.

“Thanks for telling me, it’s a pretty name,” I uttered and continued
to search my pockets. “Why don’t you want my last name?” I was genuinely
curious. I caught her sad, one sided smile out of the corner of my eye before
she drifted back further into the shadows.

I shook my
head and, making
like I found what I was looking for, slipped into the cold, dark night.
The final glimpse I caught of her face was a startled expression mixed with
relief that I hadn’t pressed.
Yeah, it was a
dangerous game I played, expressing any kind of interest in the VP’s Ol’ Lady.
But the gnawing impression that shit just wasn’t right wouldn’t let me go.

Dani was smart, pretty, and didn’t use. The cherry on top? She
was clearly unhappy about being with that dirty, nasty fuck. It was an
interesting mystery
wrapped in an enigma, why
she was with him. But it also
wasn’t why I was here. Still, the damned
girl tugged at my heartstrings which could be bad news, but only if I let it.
Only if I wasn’t smart about it.

I put on my facemask
goggles,
fixed my helmet, and pulled on my gloves after zipping my jacket
. Axe and
Corbin were
similarly suited up and sitting
astride their bikes. We had the machines warming up while I fiddled with my wardrobe
and they smoked.
I furiously tried to think
about where we could be headed, who it was they had in their crosshairs, and
more importantly, how the hell I could tip off D before we got there.

“Where we headed?” I called above the chugging bikes, trying
to make it sound like an idle question.

“You’ll see!” Corbin called.

“We sure this fucker’s alone?” I called.

“
No, you dumb cunt!
 Which
is why we’re just watching for the first bit. When we’re sure, we’ll move,” Axe
yelled. He kicked his stand out from under his
bike, righting it, and I nodded once.

“You scared, Prospect!?” Corbin yelled, and I could see the
outline of his grin through the bandana that covered the lower half of his
face.

No, but you should be.
I thought to myself.

“Lead the way, man!” I called, and we pulled out. The ride
was cold, the night clear, and the moon hung about half full in the sky. It may
have only been half, but the moon’s light was still bright enough to illuminate
the surrounding countryside by a fair bit. We pulled off at a cheap station to
make sure the bikes were gassed up and I knew where we were, whose place we
were close to. I made an excuse to take a piss and shot D a warning text.

Close to Lucky’s – Rat gave up his 20. 2 SK’s & me.

I pissed into the urinal and the burner pinged back.

Watch yourself. Place Trapped. Lucky warned.

I texted back I was burning the burner, snapped the old
school flip-phone in half, and ditched it in the trash, which was one of those
metal domed affairs, just as Axe came through the door.

“Ready?” he demanded. I hadn’t washed my damned hands but
he’d seen me throw something in the trash so it was best to let him think it
was paper towels. There were worse things in life than not washing your hands
once after you’d pissed.

“Yeah, let’s go,” I grumbled.

“Fuck, Man, you take forever to piss,” Corbin griped.

“I got a thirteen-inch cock, it’s got a long way to fucking
travel,” I shot back over my shoulder as he followed me out. I put my helmet on
to the track of their laughter after he shared what I’d said with Corbin, and
started up my bike. They probably wouldn’t be laughing in a couple of hours.
They’d probably be dead. I almost felt bad about it. Corbin and Axe weren’t
half bad when they weren’t high, except I couldn’t shake the image of them double
teaming a girl who was clearly fucking out of it and unable to consent. Still,
not going to lie to myself about it, that was pretty much the worst sin I’d
seen ‘em commit compared to a lot of the others. Which, that really just told
you how fucked up and depraved these assholes were.

At least, from what I’d gathered, under Sparks they had
tried
to maintain some kind of mask of humanity. But Griz? Griz was so hell-bent on
revenge he didn’t bother with such pleasantries. I had a sudden stroke of
inspiration… which had to wait until we were stopped up the block from Lucky’s
run down, tired, old house.

It was a little two bedroom in a rough part of town, built
back in the 1910’s, maybe the early 20’s and looked like it had just about
fucking had it. His bike, an old but fully resto’ed Indian, was parked in the
carport that had been a ramshackle add-on in the 60’s or 70’s and didn’t fit
the rest of the house, like, at all.

“Griz know we’re doing this? I mean, six guys went down
raiding these asshats’ club and he was fucking pissed!”

Corbin snorted, “Griz knows everything that’s going on.
Pig-Pen is just a fucking scape goat. So busy kissing Griz’s ass, he doesn’t
realize Griz is having him hand out the orders.”

Axe put his two cents in, “Griz is ready to burn the whole
fucking world down around him - the club, and everyone who gets in his way - for
revenge. Pig-Pen is just a fuckin’ patsy in case the club revolts. We’re out of
dumb fuckers.” He eyed me, “I can tell you ain’t one of ‘em, which is why I’m telling
you this. He doesn’t care who gets dead in the process just so long as they’re
taking Sacred Hearts with ‘em. Only reason we’re out here now is it’s
one
dude,”
he shook his head, “I mean, how fuckin’ hard can it be?”

“No shit, three against one, what could possibly go wrong
with odds like that?” Corbin grinned through his five o’clock shadow that
looked like someone had packed coffee grounds against his face. I nodded.

“Gotta like odds like that,” I agreed and brought out my
piece, a tried-and-true Beretta. I pulled back the slide and checked the
chamber to be sure it was ready to go and Corbin and Axe did the same with
their guns.

Lucky’s property sat between two vacant lots overgrown with
blackberry vines. The house was on a raised foundation, so there were three
narrow cement steps with these thin, rusted out rails to either side. The front
stoop was just big enough for one guy to either side of the door while the
third kicked it in, and apparently Axe and Corbin seemed to think this was the ideal
way to do it.