Deadly Seduction (8 page)

He wanted to divorce his old lady but he also wanted her to have access to their children. What he
didn’t
want was her cold, dead body on a slab. He was a lot of things but he would never want her murdered no matter how much they’d hurt one another in the past.

“I don’t believe you.” She shook her head and the tears slid down her cheeks in black stains from her mascara and eyeliner. “Cillian, we can work this out. I’ll stop fookin’ around with other men but you have to promise the same to me. You have got to stop your whoring ways with other women.”

Cillian wasn’t made of stone and although he didn’t love his wife any longer, it still hurt him to see her in pain. “Brianna, I’m in love with another woman and I’ll always be in love with her. Do you really want to be with some douchebag who can’t be faithful to you because he wants someone he can’t have? Listen to yourself and what you’re asking from me and you’ll understand how ridiculous you sound.”

“Why? Why did you save me at all? Why did we have children and get married if you knew you’ve been in love with that…that
cunt
all along? Why didn’t you just leave me where you found me? Do you know how fookin’ unfair
you
sound?”

“Yeah, I do. I’m an asshole and I’m fucked in the head, babe. I should have left you where I found you but I couldn’t in good conscience do that and live with myself.” He dragged from his cigarette before he stubbed it out in an oversized ashtray. “Just…drop the kids off at my parents’ house, okay? You can stay here as long as you want and where ever you decide to move, I’ll get you set up. You’ll never want for anything and I’ll take care of ya…but ya gotta give me what I want and what I desire right now is freedom.

“Shit is about to kick off and if you’re not with me then you’re in danger if you stay here. Go to Vegas, L.A., but just agree that within a week, you’ll be ready to get the fuck outta dodge and stay put where ever I place ya. The important part is you go where there’s a Saints’ chapter. The one in Glendale and the one in Vegas pack a lot of manpower and firepower. The first hint you think you’re being followed, you let a brother know and they’ll put protection on youse, okay?”

Brianna breathed deeply as she continued to smoke her cigarette. “This is all so fookin’ unfair…how I have to
uproot
me life—”

“—yeah, you’re worthless fuckin’ life because the kids are staying behind. What are you so upset about? You get a nice place, a nice car to drive and you’re no longer saddled with a life you never wanted in the first place. You can stay out as late as ya want every night and fuck whoever you want to and don’t even have to worry about PTA meetings and fuckin’ kids you never wanted in in the first place. Boo motherfuckin’ hoo. I’m not gonna feel sorry for you.”

Brianna was calm for a moment as she finished her cigarette and extinguished it in the ashtray before she suddenly ran towards Cillian, and began to attack him.

“You arsehole. You fookin’ no good, can’t-keep-it-in-your-pants prick! You fookin’ ruined me life and I fookin’ hate youse for what ya did! I wish we’d never met, Cillian Cox. I wish I’d never laid eyes on youse!”

“Back the fuck up, woman. You don’t wanna see my bad side so you best get control of that temper before I do somethin’ we’ll both regret. The kids will be up soon and I said I would take them to school. Sleep that shit off—whatever the fuck drug is pumpin’ through your system and get a hold of yourself. It’s over. The. Motherfucking. End. Get that through your thick skull, you stupid mick bitch, and if you ever put your hands on me like that again, I will knock you the fuck out, so help me God.”

She slumped to the floor and continued to sob as both Declan and Caitlin ran down the stairs. Cillian looked at the clock and realized it was time to take them to school.

Declan, a mixture of both parents with his good looking features, gray eyes and brown hair looked from his mother to his father and back again. “Dad, is Mom okay?”

“Your mother is gonna be fine, son. She’s just a bit upset and had too much to drink last night, that’s all.”

“Okay.” His son walked towards the kitchen as Caitlin approached Brianna and knelt down.

“Mommy, are you going to be okay?”

His wife embraced their daughter and stroked her dark auburn hair. “Mommy’s gonna be fine but…guess what? You and your brother get to stay with Grandma and Grandpa for a while. Won’t that be fun?”

“Not really. We have to hang out at the Clubhouse with all the other kids and some of their parents are really messed up. They get lousy grades in school and they call Declan and I names because we do our schoolwork.” Caitlin’s hazel-green eyes turned toward Cillian. “Daddy, do we have to go to the Clubhouse?”

“Baby, that’s where I’m gonna be stayin’ for a while so I’ll make sure none of those little bastards talk down to your or Declan.”

His daughter abandoned her mother and walked over to him. “Why are you staying at the Clubhouse, Daddy? Did you and Mommy have another fight?”

“No—actually, yes, we did but…Mommy is gonna go away for a while but she will come back to see you and Declan. She’s picking you up from school so you can say goodbye to her then, okay?”

Caitlin nodded her head, her creamy skin so much like Brianna’s but her complexion was healthy and she glowed with the abundance of youth.

“Okay.”

“Who wants to ride in Daddy’s Ford F-15o?”

“I do!” Declan yelled from the kitchen.

“So do I, Daddy!” Caitlin exclaimed.

He smiled at his daughter and ruffled her hair before both kids followed him to the garage and they all got in his 2014 Ford F-150.

Cillian knew in his heart that sometimes, the hardest issues to overcome were the ones a person never saw coming. He knew he had to end it with Brianna but he wished to God it hadn’t been so fucking hard and he didn’t feel so confused about it.

Twelve years and some change was a long time to spend with anyone, let alone someone you could marginally stand most of the time and other times, felt sorry for, but he couldn’t go back.

This time, Brianna would have to learn how to stand on her own two feet.

Cillian arrived at the Clubhouse shortly after he dropped his kids off at St. Francis, a private Catholic grammar school which spanned from Kindergarten to Eighth grade.
For high school, they would attend St. Joseph’s, another private Catholic high school.

Yes, he came from a long lineage of outlaws but that didn’t mean they didn’t believe in God or justice. The public schools in Birch Tree were just fine but his kids only received the best. Plus, he and Gisela’s son attended a private Catholic high school.

Their son, Conan, was extremely intelligent and a computer whiz, not to mention he’d skipped a grade and was a freshman at the ripe age of thirteen. He was a straight-A student who was popular with jocks, geeks, cool kids, and the teenage girls. However, due to who his parents were, he focused solely on schoolwork, sports, and not much else.

Cillian was determined not to make a difference between any of his children and had followed in his aunt and uncle’s footsteps where his own two children were concerned.

He arrived at the Clubhouse shortly after nine. He’d had to swing back to his place and load his Harley onto the flatbed of his truck before he drove back to Cox Towing and Auto Repair.

Their legitimate business was towing vehicles, specifically for the local law enforcement. They towed and stowed every car that was taken from a particular driver due to insurance lapses, drunk driving and every other offense where it meant a person had their vehicle impounded. Most were never claimed again but they still kept them for the requisite thirty days before they sold them in bulk up to a car dealership in Portland, Oregon.

The vehicles were removed from the State because it was important the owners were never able to track their vehicles down. They usually settled with the finance company for pennies on the dollar and they made good money with the arrangement they had with various used car lots in Portland.

However, it was a needed and necessary front.

Their real money came from the restoration of antique vehicles and motorcycles. Bookie, Cricket and Kink weren’t members just because they looked hot on a Harley and had tat sleeves; they knew their automotive shit in and out. The same way Loire, his half-sister and the club tat artist, knew how to draw on the canvas of human flesh. She was a natural and had done everyone’s work in the club.

It didn’t matter she lived in L.A. When Dizzy called her, she ran and her partner, Nil Delvecchio, would pick up the slack while she was off on her tat jobs up here in Northern Nevada.

Cillian liked to think he was a great mechanic but his true love was car and motorcycle restoration. Every upgrade he had on his Harley had been done by his own hands personally. His bike wasn’t just a machine but a mean bitch who was an extension of him. She’d saved his ass more times than he could count and he took care of her with precision and a fine eye for detail.

He used the remote he had in the truck to open the heavily armed gates at the Clubhouse and compound.

They were in the middle of a restoration project and therefore builders came and went. There was a panic room that would be able to withstand a C-4 bomb. Every room, including the main area, game room, chapel, and bedrooms for Club members were being upgraded. The whole place would be completely modernized by the time the restorations were completed.

All the club members were getting new beds, and completely remodeled bathrooms while their chapel had already been redesigned. The glass was bulletproof and the place could withstand a lot of damage if the assailants got past the brand new fence that had barbed wire on top and could be electrified at the switch of a button.

Every door into the compound had a different code and codes were changed weekly.

The place would be a great place for a lockdown when all the work was finished in approximately four months.

That meant the crew had to work through wintertime but there would be a major bonus if they finished on time.

Cillian climbed out of his truck and walked toward the front door where he tapped in that week’s four digit code on the keypad but before he could finish, there was a buzz from the inside. A camera was placed in a strategic position above the double front doors and one could be buzzed in if they didn’t know the combo; a definite must for the Saint Slappers, who would never be trusted with the code to their Clubhouse.