Illicit Temptations (Tempted Series Book 1) (12 page)

We walked around the back of the club to the main street in silence, leaving the stale air of the nightclub and the vibrations of the music behind us. She dropped my hand somewhere along the way, forcing me to shove my hands in my pockets so I wouldn’t reach for her again. She reached into her purse, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. I bit the inside of my cheek as she lit it and took her first drag. She released the smoke from her lips before sighing.

“I’m sorry I asked you to leave. I know you asked me to come with you tonight so you’d get a feel for what you’re getting into,” she took another pull of her cigarette. “It just gets old every now and then.”

“What does?” I asked as we made our way to the curb to hail a taxi.

“This whole scene,” she motioned to the club with her free hand. “Don’t get me wrong, I love to go out. I like being social and I love to dance, but a part of me just wanted to go to a dive bar in the middle of nowhere. I want to drink beer and dance to some bullshit on a juke box.”

I smiled at her picturing her in the bar I used to go night after night in Pennsylvania. She’d stick out like a sore thumb.

“The social butterfly I saw when we got here tonight would be lost like a fish out of water.”

She turned around abruptly, almost as if I had slapped her. There was a fury in her eyes as she flicked the cigarette into the street and set her icy eyes on mine.

“People only look at me and act the way they do towards me because of who my father is and who Rico is. These people don’t know me they don’t know anything about me. They don’t take the time to see who I am and that’s just fine. Half of them are too high on God knows what to remember me even if they did take the time to get to know me to really know me Nikki Pastore not Vic’s daughter or Rico’s girl. Me. Just me. And for the record, I’d fit in just fine.”

Something flashed in her eyes and she closed her mouth quickly. Her hand covered her lips instantly as if she had just blurted out a secret. She turned around, her back to me as she stuck her arm out trying to flag down a taxi. I grabbed her hand and spun her around to look at me. I didn’t know where that little outburst came from but she was bothered by something and that didn’t sit well with me.

“Hey…,” I said softly. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to offend you,” she tried to pull away as her eyes softened but I kept my hold on her. “Fuck those people.”

She laughed at my crudeness and relaxed a bit, causing me to loosen the grip I held on her arm.

“You want to tell me what set you off back there?” I asked, letting my fingers graze her bare arm.

Nikki shook her head. “It’s stupid,” she sighed, waiting for me to drop it, but I wasn’t going to I didn’t like seeing her like this. I had already made a vow to both of us to get to know her to know the real Nikki and I wasn’t about to shy away now.

“Do you do drugs Mikey?” She asked me throwing me off guard.

“No,” I replied, confused as to why she had asked me wondering if it ran parallel to why Victor was so anti-drug himself.

“Good,” she said releasing the tiniest sigh of relief. “There was a girl in the bathroom, ripping lines. It just made me so mad. I have no idea why, it’s not like she was forcing me to join her even though she did ask. It’s her life so why should I give a fuck?” She shrugged her shoulders. “I guess after that whole shit went down with Anthony and Adrianna I’m against anything that has to do with drugs.”

“What happened with Anthony and Adrianna?” I asked curiously. Since I’ve been back home everyone seems to dance around the topic of those two. It’s obvious that something happened between them and whatever it was had left them both broken.

A taxi pulled alongside the curb right in front of us. I opened the door for Nikki watching as she slid across the leather seat before I followed her lead.

“Where to?” the cab driver asked.

“I’m starving,” Nikki said. Her eyes widened, and she laced her arm with mine leaning her head on my shoulder. We looked like a couple, especially the way she looked up at me. “I know the perfect ending to this night.”

“So do I…,” I winced. Did I just fucking say that out loud?

“Ladies first!” She said with a flirty grin.

Don’t worry princess I’m a firm believer in ladies first.

“Roll N’ Roaster in Sheepshead Bay,” she told the driver before turning around to look at me. “Was that what you were thinking too?”

“Not quite,” I said as every question I had about my old friends flew out of my mind. That was it. My dick was back in working order thanks to Nikki.

Just Nikki.

The following day I was woken up by Anthony’s foot kicking my ass out of bed. Literally, the bastard pulled the sheets off me and nudged my bare ass with his sneaker hard enough that I rolled completely off the bed. I could kill the fucker for interrupting what was a very gratifying dream. Well, it was just about to get to the gratifying part before I found myself on the floor peering up at Anthony. I opened my mouth to ask him what the fuck his problem was but instead I was told that I had ten minutes to shower and dress because we were going to the shooting range.

I suppose it could be worse, right? I mean I’ve heard people bitch about training for their new job sitting around pushing papers and stuffing envelopes. I get to drink, play with guns, and walk around with a permanent set of blue balls. I had it made.

The drive to the shooting range was the usual torture I had already come to expect when one was trapped in a confined space with Anthony. It was full of silence and the occasional grunt. My friend was an ogre. Unfortunately, for me the quiet only forced me to think of Nikki. She consumed my thoughts most of the time. I guess it could be deemed a good thing, allowing me to escape the reality that my mother was gone or that I felt as if I was starring in a bad reality show…, America’s Next Gangster.

I went to bed night after night thinking about Nikki even dreamed of her while I slept and when I awoke each and every morning she was the first thing on my mind. I was infatuated with her. I wanted her fuck I wanted her as much as I wanted air. However, I knew even if it was possible, even if I had her just for one night it would never be enough. She’d have my balls in a vice claiming me as her own even if she didn’t intend to. But that could never happen. I could never have her. Not even for one night.

We drove down a dirt road, the kind you see in the movies. You know when they whack a guy and dispose of the body deep in the wooded area where the authorities can’t find it? Yeah, we were taking that road. My palms were sweating as we proceeded down the road that seemed to never end until it finally brought us to what appeared to be a warehouse. There were very few cars parked diagonally in front of the building, but there were over a dozen motorcycles.

Anthony parked the truck at the far end of the lot so when we walked towards the entrance of the shooting range I was able to assess the motorcycles noticing that they were all beautiful pieces of machinery. I paused in front of one of the motorcycles checking out the chrome detail but was quickly interrupted by a smack upside my head from Anthony.

“Keep it moving Mike they’re waiting for us,” he said.

I think I whimpered as I tried to imagine who was waiting for us. He pushed open the doors, and I followed him into the shooting range. I’m not sure what I expected a shooting range to be like. I don’t think I gave it much thought, but I wasn’t expecting the twenty or so bikers glaring at me as the welcoming committee that’s for sure. All eyes were on me sizing me up with their grim expressions. These men made Victor and his goons look like choirboys.

One of the bikers stood up walking around the front counter to stand in front of me his cold gaze washed over me. I tried not to gawk at him, but fuck, he was a scary looking motherfucker with his tattered jeans, and his leather cut. His arms were covered with tattoos that trailed up to his neck and he wore a bandana tied around his baldhead. My gaze drifted down to his leather vest again noticing the patch on one side that read President.

“This guy here is Vic’s fresh meat?” Scary bald biker president asked Anthony.

“Yeah, this is Michael Valente,” Anthony said as he shook the man’s hand. The president’s hand released Anthony’s mid shake as he turned his attention back towards me.

“This is Val’s son? Get the fuck out of here,” his eyes looked back to Anthony who nodded.

“I guess you knew my father,” I said.

He spit out the toothpick he had been chewing on onto the floor. I held my stance as the fucking thing landed next to my shoe.

“Yeah, I knew your old man,” his face softened if that was possible and a slight trace of a grin worked its way across the grim line of his mouth. “He was a fucking legend,” he cocked his head to the side taking a step closer to me, his eyes zeroed in on me. “You got the chops he had?”

“Time will tell,” Anthony said, patting me on the back. I was thankful that he answered for me because I couldn’t pry my lips apart to speak a single word.

The president gave me one final look before turning around to walk towards the counter. The back of his vest had what looked like the grim reaper surrounded by flames and embroidered letters that read Satan’s Knights. I glanced around at the rest of the bikers noticing that they all
had the same cut on.
I wanted to laugh at the whole scenario, but really there was nothing funny about learning how to fire a gun at a shooting range owned by bikers that called themselves Satan’s Knights. I should’ve brought a flask with me.

He reached behind the counter, grabbing a clipboard that contained some papers. He shoved the clipboard into my hands and pulled a pen from his back pocket. I took the pen and looked towards Anthony.

“Just fill it out,” he said with a nod. He reached into his back pocket, producing a thick envelope. I watched him hand it to the president. “Victor sends his regards, Jack.”

Jack took the envelope weighing it in the palm of his hands before stuffing the envelope into his pocket. He smiled at Anthony. “Always a pleasure doing business with Vic. How’s business?”

Anthony shrugged his shoulders. “As good as to be expected with the new club opening. Victor wanted me to mention opening night to you.”

“Victor knows me and my men aren’t really into the night club scene,” Jack said rather amused as he lit a cigarette.

“He was hoping that if need be you would be able to assist in providing protection. He’s not expecting any issues, but wants to ensure if something should arise that you have his back.”

I lifted my gaze from the clipboard to gauge Jack’s reaction. He blew out a heavy cloud of smoke crossing one leg over his other knee. He leaned back in his chair seemingly contemplating his answer and then looked at Anthony.

“My men will be on call,” Jack said, turning to look at me. “You about done kid?”

I glanced down at the blank papers. Shit. I shook my head and started to fill out the paperwork. I was signing a consent form confirming that I didn’t have a criminal record, and that I was not a felon. I found it pretty comical that I had to attest to the fact I had not committed a violent crime or I wouldn’t be allowed to fire any of the weapons when this place was crawling with criminals. Anthony didn’t have to fill out a consent form this place was corrupt!

Once I had completed the paperwork Jack, who most of the men called Bulldog walked us to a room where they kept all the weapons. Actually, Anthony was the only one who called him Jack. I later found out that they all had nicknames for one another only they weren’t really considered nicknames but instead were called road names. Jack “Bulldog” Parrish the president of Satan’s Knights had a pretty intensive collection of firearms helping me choose one that was best fitted for me.

I selected a twenty-two millimeter. The semi-automatic was light yet powerful which was perfect for someone like me who was just carrying it for protection. I had to wear goggles along with a pair of protective earphones that protected me from the sound of the guns going off.

Jack watched from the sidelines as Anthony showed me how to hold my stance instructing me to keep my legs shoulder width apart. He explained that when I fired the gun I’d feel the power of the gun and if I didn’t keep myself correctly positioned the force of the gun would push me back.

I held the gun in my hand, trying to acclimate myself to the feel of holding a weapon, it felt so natural in my hand. I did as I was told keeping my legs apart planted firmly on the floor as I aimed for my target. We bought a magazine of bullets that
I loaded from the bottom of the gun. The first few rounds I fired I missed my target
marginally. It was my nerves. I was trying too hard. I felt the eyes of the MC on me, I felt Anthony’s intense gaze all of them watching to see if I had my father’s blood running through my veins.

      
Suddenly my luck changed it was as if someone had performed an exorcism on me because I began to fire the gun as if I had come out of the womb with an automatic weapon in my hand. Each shot I took fell dead center on my target. I couldn’t stop either firing one shot after another taking out all the aggression of the last few weeks on my paper target. The push and pull of power with each shot gave me a burst of adrenaline. My finger kept pulling the trigger as my mind raced with all the people I had pictured on the receiving end of the bullets the faceless man who killed my father, the stranger driving the truck that slammed into my mother’s car killing her, the enemies who ripped my family apart. I heard the steady beep of the machines that sounded when my mother drew her last breath, ringing in my ears as I emptied the magazine of bullets. I heard my mother’s cries as she collapsed over my father’s coffin. Lastly, I saw a younger version of myself chasing after my dad. For the first time since I started shooting, I closed my eyes. I pulled the trigger once, twice... both blanks. I had run out of bullets. The shooting range became eerily quiet the only sound was that of my anguished scream echoing off the walls.