EMPTY SECRETS (A Back Down Devil MC Novella) (2 page)

Angelo took them back into the
kitchen area and through another little corridor. At the end of the hall was a
heavy door. It was dirty and the handle looked slimy. Angelo opened it and they
all worked their way inside.

“
Here,
”
Angelo said.
“
Now what?
”

“
I
’
m going to look around,
”
Jett said.

“
You
don
’
t need to. It
’
s all fresh. Right out of the
ocean.
”

“
Yeah?
”
Jett asked. He pointed to a box
of salmon.
“
This says
packed from Fairland, New Jersey.
”

“
Fresh
and packed,
”
Angelo said.

Jett lost it. He grabbed Angelo by
the shirt and swung him. The big man was a little hard to move, but when he got
him swinging, gravity and momentum did its job. Jett threw Angelo into a rack
of food. He crashed with a thud and let out a scream. Two containers of food fell
from the shelves, one of them spilling open with chicken breasts hitting the
floor and sliding across the floor.

“
You
’
re fucking scum,
”
Jett said.

He then took the lead and started
opening the containers of food, looking for drugs. It was pretty simple. With
all the dealings with the bomb at the compound and some business guy snooping
around after his daughter was killed at a fight, Miller worried that some of
the other battles in the world were being left behind. The worst thing that
could happen were drugs. Back Down Devil MC worked hard to keep all that shit
out of Frelen. There were some mumblings about Coast Road MC and bringing in
drugs with seafood. Angelo popped up on the radar because he was a piece of
shit. A gambler, addicted to strippers, always making promises he couldn
’
t keep. The restaurant was flooded
by debt and waiting to collapse. It only made sense he would be helping to move
drugs around.

“
What
are you doing?
”
Angelo
asked as he tried to get to his feet.

He then stepped on a chicken breast
and slid on it. He went down hard on his ass with a bellowing cry.

“
Look
at him,
”
Jace said.
“
He
’
s
pathetic.
”

“
Yeah,
”
Jett said.
“
These containers are clear.
”

“
Tell
me,
”
Angelo cried out.
“
What did I do?
”

Angelo tried to stand again and
managed to get to his feet.

Jett faced him.
“
Drugs. Got any?
”

“
No.
No, no, no. I never
…”

“
Angelo,
I find out you
’
re involved
with anything like that
…
I
’
m going to fucking kill you.
”

“
Okay,
”
Angelo said.
“
Never. I just have debts.
”

“
And
crappy food,
”
Jace said.

“
Yeah,
man, my stomach
…”

Jace opened another container and
screamed.
“
Holy Christ.
”

“
What?
”
Jett asked.

“
Look
at this. More chicken, man. And it
’
s
green
…”

“
I
had chicken,
”
Blaine said.

“
You
serve spoiled food?
”
Jett
asked.

“
When
you cook it,
”
Angelo said,
“
the bad stuff dies. It never
goes bad
…”

Jett backed up. He looked at Blaine
and saw his face turning white.

“
Oh
man,
”
Blaine said.
“
No
…”

Before Jett could say another word,
Blaine started to throw up. He launched his food right at Angelo, hitting him
in the legs and covering his feet and the raw chicken on the floor.

Jett reached for the door and
opened it.

Blaine let out a growling sound and
threw up a little more.

“
It
looks better now than it did when Stacey brought it from the kitchen,
”
Jace said.

Jett laughed.

Blaine grabbed his stomach and dry
heaved.
“
Fuck you, man.
”

“
I
think we
’
re done here,
”
Jett said. He looked at Angelo.
“
Clean it up, Angelo. All
of it. Next time we come back here
…
it won
’
t be nice. And it
won
’
t be fucking puke on your
clothes either.
”

Jett left the fridge area and
spotted Stacey. She looked at him and smiled. He gave a nod. Part of him still
thought about running right through her. He imagined her tight and wild.

“
That
was fucking gross,
”
Jace
said.

“
Yeah,
”
Jett said.
“
I
’
m
out of here.
”

“
Where
to?
”
Jett asked.

Blaine cut between them and put his
arms around them.
“
Let
’
s go get a fucking drink.
”

“
Before
that, you need a breath mint,
”
Jett said.

He looked for Stacey again, but she
was gone.

Fuck, what a crazy day.

But at least I
’
m alive
…

two.

Drinking at the clubhouse had its
own appeal. It was a lot like drinking with business partners or something.
Always waiting for someone to talk about a deal, a war, a fight, a gun,
something. Miller and Gaige had given Jett a key to a room at the clubhouse,
but he had yet to use it. He was close enough just by wearing the goddamn patch
and pulling the trigger on his gun when needed. Not that he didn
’
t love the guys or anything, but
sometimes it was nice to be at a bar outside the clubhouse.

Blaine and Jace were shooting pool
against two guys, four women looking on. They were betting fifty bucks a game,
but Jett knew that the women were the real prize. For Jett, he just sat at the
bar, beer and whiskey in hand, listening to a rambling broadcast of a fucking
hockey game. He didn
’
t give
a shit about sports. Or anything for that matter. Jett had grown up rough and
tough, his mother kidnapped and murdered when he was just seven years old. And
it always seemed on those
sevens
bad shit happened. On his seventeenth
birthday, he was on the streets, living alone, and found out that his father
was the one who kidnapped and killed his mother. That began a long quest to
find his father and all the backdoor dealings of organized crime that had been
going on around Jett.

During a drunken stupor at twenty,
Jett actually got into a fist fight with Miller. From what Jett could remember
about that night, he did get Miller with a few really good shots to the face,
but Miller was sober and his sober fists prevailed. When Jett woke the
following morning, there was a note literally pinned to his stomach.

Nice fight. Let
’
s talk.

He met up with Miller and that
began his life with Back Down Devil MC.

“
Can
I get you another one?
”
the
bartender asked.

Jett gave a nod.
“
Sure thing.
”

The bartender was cute as anything.
Tall, skinny, a beautiful chest. Hair pulled back tight and a little butterfly
tattoo on her left wrist. Something about that little tattoo drove Jett wild.

Fuck.

It had been a month since he last
had a decent fuck. It was with someone he thought to be a girlfriend. But Ada
wasn
’
t quite that. She was
a stripper whore who loved cock and coke. She ended up getting killed ten miles
south of Frelen. There was an open murder investigation, but something about it
all just bothered the shit out of Jett.

With a fresh beer in front of him,
the cute as hell bartender lingered.
“
Why
aren
’
t you playing pool
with your friends?
”

“
Because
I have something better to look at right here,
”
Jett said.

“
Hanging
around until closing?
”
she
asked.

“
Two
in the morning? Beautiful, that
’
s
when I start living. I rise when the sun sets and watch the sun rise every
morning.
”

“
I
’
d like to watch a sunrise with
you.
”

Jett grinned.
“
Trust me, beautiful, you spend a
night with me, the last thing you
’
re
going to give a shit about is the sunrise.
”

“
Good
thing,
”
she said, leaning
over the bar a little more.
“
Because
there
’
s only one thing I
want to see rising before my eyes
…”

Jett squeezed the glass of whiskey
so tight he thought it was going to break.

He started to stand, ready to pound
the whiskey and then take the bartender somewhere - bathroom, back room, break
room - and then pound her. Then he heard the familiar snapping sound of a pool
stick breaking and turned his head just in time to see someone cracking a stick
over Blaine
’
s back.

“
Oh,
fuck,
”
Jett said.

He moved from the bar to help out.

When someone attacked someone in
Back Down Devil MC there was no need to ask questions. Right or wrong didn
’
t fucking matter. Nobody touched
the MC. Nobody.

The other guy saw Jett coming and
turned, lifting the pool stick.
“
Come
on, asshole. Come on.
”

So that
’
s what Jett did. He lunged over the pool table,
clearing it, and tackling the other guy to the ground.

Didn
’
t expect that, did you?

Jett then used his elbows and
pounded at the guy
’
s face a
few times. He rolled off the guy and stood up, reaching back for a pool stick
of his own. Blaine was getting back to his feet, and Jace was wrapped with some
asshole in a black t-shirt and tattoos.

The place was bustling with
screams, yells, and people trying to break up the fighting.

Jett poked the first guy in the
back of the head with his pool stick. The guy turned and showed the cracked
stub of his stick.

“
Broke
your stick,
”
Jett said and
smiled.

“
You
fuckers
…”

Jett smacked the guy in the face
with the pool stick. The guy screamed like a girl. Jett broke the stick over
his knee and then stabbed the guy in the shoulder with the broken end. That
quickly ended the fight. Well, that and the fact that Blaine had taken out his
gun.

People liked the fighting but not
the intense violence.

Bunch of pussies.

Jett kicked the second guy in the
ribs and left him on the ground.

“
Okay
then,
”
Jett said.
“
I think we
’
re good here.
”

“
Get
the fuck out!
”
the cute as
hell bartender yelled from behind the bar.
“
I
’
m calling the police!
”

“
Bitch,
”
Jett said.

Jace touched his lip and was
bleeding. Blaine stretched his back and kept his gun handy. Jett walked around
the pool table and made a line for the door. The three of them left the bar and
went around to the side of the building where they had parked their rides.

“
That
was fun,
”
Blaine said.

“
Remind
me to never go out for a drink again,
”
Jace said.
“
Fucking hell.
”

“
What
happened?
”
Jett asked.

“
Blaine
started to finger that guy
’
s
girlfriend,
”
Jace said.

“
Are
you serious?
”

“
What?
”
Blaine asked.
“
She showed me her pussy. What
was I supposed to do? She kept flashing it when I was taking my shots. So I
told her if she did it again I was going to jam my fingers up her. She did it
again. So I walked up to her and told her to do it again. She did it. I took
two fingers and felt her out. Wet and loose. I rammed two fingers up her and
she cried out. Then her boyfriend got pissed and smacked me with a pool stick.
”

Jett shook his head. Here he was,
in deep thought about life and all that bullshit, and Blaine was fingering some
chick and starting a fight. It pissed him off, but there was nothing he could
do about it now. The fight had happened and they were going to just cruise back
to the clubhouse and finish up the night. There was plenty of whiskey, beer,
and
relievers
to take care of anything the guys needed. Jett figured
maybe tonight was the right time now. Grab two or three of the hottest and
sluttiest
relievers
hanging around and let them go to town on him. Or
better yet, have Blaine pull his strings with all the strippers he knew in
Frelen.

“
Let
’
s just get out of here,
”
Jace said.
“
Fuck this scene, man. I
’
m done with all that right now.
We
’
re better off all
together in case we get attacked again.
”

Jett froze and looked over his
shoulder.
“
What the fuck is
going to come of that mess? I feel like we
’
re
chasing our tails.
”

“
Maybe
we are, bro,
”
Jace said.
“
But it
’
s bad. Erik almost died. You see his face? He
’
s going to be fucked up for the
rest of his life. And that
’
s
scary, man. He
’
s a loose
canon as it is.
”

“
Hey,
speaking of loose canons,
”
Blaine said.
“
My cock is a
little full right now from touching that chick in there. Can we ride? I need to
let one go.
”

“
Fucking
hell, man,
”
Jett said.

They kept walking, and it took all
of a second for Jett to realize there was something on his motorcycle.

As he got closer
…

Fuck, not something. Someone.

“
There
’
s a drunk chick on your ride,
”
Jace said.

“
How
the fuck did you get this lucky?
”
Blaine asked.

The chick was literally right over
the seat. Just dangling there. Feet almost touching the ground on one side,
fingertips almost touching on the other. Her shirt was pulled up a little,
showing some skin. She wore some tight jeans and had a nice little curvy ass.

Jett approached and smacked at her
hip.
“
Hey, beautiful, wake
the fuck up. This ain
’
t
your ride.
”

“
She
could be my ride,
”
Blaine
said.

“
Hey!
”
Jett yelled. He smacked her
ass.
“
Wake the fuck up!
”

The woman didn
’
t move.

“
Christ,
”
Jace said.
“
How drunk is she? Is she fucking
dead?
”

Jett felt his heart drop. That
’
s all he needed right now. Some
chick dead on his ride. He rushed to the other side of the motorcycle and moved
her hair out of the way. Dark, dirty blonde hair that was thick. Just the kind
Jett liked. Her eyes were definitely shut. He stuck two fingers to her neck -
nice,
soft skin
…
- and
felt for a pulse.

“
She
’
s alive,
”
he said.
“
Pulse
is fine.
”

Her heart was beating like normal.
Not fast, not weak.

Jett crouched down and kept the
chick
’
s hair out of her
face. He stroked her cheek with a little more care than he wanted to give her.

“
Hey,
”
he said.
“
Wake up. Come on. You have no
clue where you are right now. Don
’
t
make me call the
…”

There was a siren in the distance.

“
Oh,
fuck,
”
Blaine said.
“
That bitch of a bartender called
the police for real.
”

“
Fuck,
”
Jace said.
“
We have to ride.
”

“
What
the fuck do I do?
”
Jett
asked.
“
Just throw her to
the ground?
”

“
What
’
s the difference?
”
Jace asked.
“
She
’
s drunk. She
’
ll
sleep it off and wake up when she feels it. Or the cops will find her. Don
’
t get involved.
”

Jett grabbed the woman by the jaw
and shook her.
“
Hey! Cops
are coming! Wake the fuck up!
”

The chick didn
’
t move. Completely lifeless
…
except for the normal
heartbeat.

“
This
is fucked,
”
Jett growled.
“
Just what we fucking need right
now.
”

The sirens started to close in.

“
They
’
re coming,
”
Blaine said.
“
Chief will get pissed if we
’
re here hanging around at a
scene.
”

“
Fine,
”
Jett said.

He grabbed the woman under her
armpits. He told himself not to think of how close his hands were to her tits.
That would be so fucking wrong to do. That was Blaine
’
s territory, sleeping chicks and all. Not Jett.
They needed to be fucking awake and somewhat coherent.

Jett pulled the chick from his ride
and lifted her up. He then slowly spun her to put her on the ground on her
back. He knew he would need to turn her head in case she threw up, or else she
’
d choke on her own vomit. But as
he laid her down, he looked at her stomach and let out a groan.

“
Blood,
”
he said.
“
Fuck, man, fuck.
”