Mad Delights (8 page)

“You won’t be able to move this arm,” she said. “Definitely won’t be able to torture anyone.”

“That’s why I have him,” he replied with a nod toward Dax. “My own minion of evil.”

Dax snorted. “You’re fucking hilarious.”

“Go, minion, do my bidding.”

He smiled when he heard Dax’s exasperated growl. He did that a lot around Romeo. He cracked open his eyes. Dax stared hungrily at Chloe. Even as horny teenagers sharing club pussy, he’d never seen Dax with such a look of longing. It made him wonder what lay between Chloe’s legs that had the tough man so tangled up—and if his friend had already sampled the delectable treat.

A moment later, Dax turned and walked out of the clubhouse. Chloe watched him until the door closed, then she returned her attention to his wound. She gave him a series of shots until his arm went nicely numb. Then she swathed the area in a yellowish substance before putting on some sterile gloves. There was tugging but not any sharp pain, and his mind wandered while she took care of him. Her black hair gleamed in the overhead light, the midnight undertones almost blue. Of course, that could be the drug making him hallucinate. Still, he had the strangest urge to run his fingers through it.

“Are you?” Romeo asked softly.

“Am I what?”

“A stalker.”

She shrugged, not looking at him. “I owe you, simple as that. A certain person seems to have taken exception to me learning your habits.”

Her gaze flicked briefly over to the door through which Dax had exited. Something dark and telling shifted in her eyes before disappearing under her poker expression.

“Yeah, Dax mentioned that,” he said. “I’m sorry, but I don’t remember helping anyone.”

She licked her lips. He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her glistening mouth and all sorts of filthy images filled his head. She’d look fucking gorgeous on her knees while she sucked his dick.

“Last year my cousin, Kaiya, was traveling to a symposium for the deaf,” she said. “She was taken at night from outside her hotel.”

A light bulb clicked on in his brain. He’d helped his brother Branch, his riding partner Charlie, and their old lady, Lily, capture the guy trafficking women. That prick had been the club’s old president, Shepard.

“Wait,” he said. “You’re talking about the Master’s house, in Missouri.”

She nodded. A second later, the smashed, red-tinted bullet thudded harmlessly onto the floor.

“I remember her now,” he mused. The mental picture of a beautiful Asian girl came easily from his memories. “I cut the ties off her wrists. What was her name again?”

“Kaiya.”

“That’s right. She’s your cousin?”

“Yes.”

“How is she?”

She didn’t answer for a moment as she changed gloves and retrieved a suture kit. When the needle pressed against his skin, she answered, “Our grandfather has ensconced her inside a lovely compound back in Japan, behind walls eight feet high with more guards than you can imagine.”

“No shit?” he asked, wondering how much money her grandfather had to employ such round the clock precaution.

“He’s suffocating her, but other than that, she’s fine.”

Chloe flicked her lovely dark eyes up at him and for a long second. When he met her gaze, odd sensations flooded him, a momentary suspension and sudden downward plunge. His stomach reacted as it had when he’d been on a free-fall ride as a youngster at a fair. The feeling didn’t last long, and when she looked back down at her task, he couldn’t help but wonder what the hell had just happened to his sense of equilibrium.

She sat back and slipped off her gloves.

“Done stitching me up?”

She nodded. “You have to be careful or you’ll tear them. Are you allergic to any medicines?”

“No.”

“Great. I have some antibiotics you can take. Listen, I’m not a doctor, but I’m pretty sure your arm will heal if you take it easy. If there’s any sign of infection you should go to the ER.”

Romeo flexed his arm carefully. “Well, it wasn’t a direct hit. The bullet skimmed off something and hit me. I’ll be fine.”

“You’re only saying that because the morphine is masking the pain,” she said with a grin. “By the way, I gave you a tetanus shot since I bet you’ve not had one in a while. I also have some painkillers you can have.”

“There’s nothing like some great drugs.” He smiled.

The door opened and Dax stepped inside. He looked at Chloe with a mixture of longing and mistrust, and Romeo wondered what had transpired between them. Dax met his gaze and nodded to the outside, toward the garage, letting him know that their prisoner was waiting to be interrogated. Romeo acknowledged with his own nod and reached for his shirt.

“Where are you going?” Chloe asked, alarmed.

“To the garage.”

“I just said you have to take it easy.”

“I know,” he said. “But there’s a man out there who could have answers to what happened to Babyface, and I mean to find them out.”

She pursed her lips. “Well, if you have to force those answers then make sure it’s Dax who metes out the punishment.”

He cocked one eyebrow at her. “You have no qualms about us torturing him for information?”

She opened her mouth to say something, no doubt ready to pour out all the recriminations shining in her eyes, but at the last moment, she backed down and simply shook her head.

Interesting.

“You have to wear a sling,” she told him and crossed her arms. The position pushed her tits out, and even though they were on the small side, he still wanted to lick and suck them.

“I’ll wear it if you wait here.”

“Deal,” she murmured and whipped one out of her bag.

As she helped him put it on, their gazes locked and held. Her natural scent drifted to him, tickling his senses. His dick hardened in response, and he suddenly wished they were all alone so he could experience the delights between her thighs. But duty called. He had to be
responsible.

He turned and left temptation behind, trying hard to ignore the hard-on he now sported. He adjusted himself before he stepped into the garage, and immediately saw the Shanks member tied to the same cherry picker that Cipher had been chained to not that long ago.

“Where’s Mendoza?” Romeo demanded.

The man threw up his chin. “If you’re gonna kill me like you did the others, do it quick.”

“Others?” Romeo shook his head, perplexed. “What others?”

The man looked between him and Dax. “The other Shanks you killed. Had to be you. Who else would do it?”

Dax shook his head. “We didn’t kill anyone. We want Mendoza to ask if he killed one of our guys.”

The man frowned. “You didn’t do it?”

“Do what, for fuck’s sake?” Romeo bit out. The last thing he wanted to deal with right now was a runaround.

“Last Saturday night, Mendoza was found strung up,” the man reported.

Romeo glanced at Dax and saw the same type of apprehension on his friend’s face that raced through his guts. “Suicide?”

The man snorted. “A big fucking knife stuck a note to his chest, so no, Mendoza didn’t hang himself.”

“What did the note say?”

“It said leave, or more will be hung out to dry.”

“Fuck,” Boone muttered. His phone rang and he glanced at it, quickly turning away to answer the call.

The Shank member looked between them. “You didn’t do it?”

“No,” Romeo answered grimly. “One of our men was killed Saturday too. His body was cut up. The accompanying note told us to leave, or we’ll go in pieces.”

The enormity of what was going on hit Romeo at that moment, and obviously, it did to the Shank member too, because he began struggling with the bonds that held him.

“Let me go,” the man said frantically. “I have to get out of here.”

Dax rested a hand on his shoulder. “Just calm down—”

“No! Don’t you get it? The Shanks are gone!”

Romeo narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Mendoza hasn’t been the only casualty. Yesterday someone…or some people…took out half of us. Slit their throats while they slept. Today, most of the ones who survived packed up and left. All that remained were me and four others.” He shook his head. “We thought it was you trying to run us out of town. Just let me go and I’ll get the fuck out of here, even with a bullet in my leg.”

“Are you saying the Shanks are gone?”

“Yeah, man.” The man visibly trembled. “You can have this fucking town.”

“It wasn’t us,” Romeo stressed. Several possibilities raced through his mind, but the drug was making it difficult for him to focus on one train of thought.

“Oh, yeah? Well, who else would fight over this town?”

“Romeo,” Boone said grimly. All the men turned to him. “That was Hook. Something happened to the Whiskey Lick Her.”

Dread washed through Romeo. He looked at each man before they raced from the garage to the front of the compound. Not now. The drug was really playing havoc with his head and all he wanted to do was lie down, but as he joined his men on the road, looking back toward the interstate, the strip of fire lighting up the dark sky made him realize he had a long fucking night ahead of him. He stood with his jaw hanging open for a few minutes, unable to comprehend what the hell was going on.

Dax lay a hand on his arm. “What’s going on, Rome?”

“I don’t know,” Romeo breathed. “We have to find out. Dax, Hawg, Burrito, you come with me. Boone, stay here. Organize everything for a lockdown.”

“Wait,” Chloe said as she pushed through the assembled group of men. “You can’t ride with that arm.”

He frowned at her. “I thought we made a deal for you to stay inside.”

“I had my fingers crossed,” she replied blithely. “If you ride your motorcycle you could hurt yourself more and end up with permanent muscle damage.”

Dax nudged his uninjured shoulder and gave him a surreptitious nod.

“All right,” he groused. “You can drive me. I’ll meet the rest of you there.”

All the men nodded. They jumped into action as he marched over to the Mercedes. Without a word, Chloe slid behind the steering wheel and started the car, following after his men who throttled down the road. For the entire drive there, Romeo’s insides froze inch by inch as a band tightened around his heart. Someone had taken down the only other gang in Bair, the Shanks, and now it looked as if they were coming after the Men of Hell.

Chapter Eight

Fire trucks and police gathered around the burning building of what used to be the Whiskey Lick Her. A group of people stood off to the side, watching in horror as flames rose high into the sky, soot darkening their faces and clothes. EMTs provided medical aid for several people huddled in blankets.

“Jesus,” Romeo muttered.

“Oh my God. Does anyone know what happened?” Chloe asked. The tang of ash in the air filtered through her nose and mouth as it circulated on the wind.

“No. But this can’t be a coincidence, not with what happened to Babyface and Mendoza. The Shanks were scared out of town and now it seems like we’re next.”

The other two Men of Hell members were talking with a tall black man who had on an oxygen mask. Chloe spotted Dax against the smoldering backdrop. As she and Romeo approached, a woman in the crowd stared at them with a malicious grin on her face. Every instinct screamed that this woman had some connection to what had happened, but as Chloe took one step in her direction, the crowd shifted. The woman was gone in an instant.

Romeo had joined his friend and watched the firemen who continued to douse the building with water. Half the building was gone by flame, but it was obvious there was no saving any of it. The Whiskey Lick Her was destroyed. Chloe stood between Romeo and Dax, slipped a hand into each of theirs, and held them tightly, sharing in the atrocity of the destruction.

“Do you know if anyone died?” Dax asked softly.

“I don’t know,” Romeo replied. “But look at it. How could anyone possibly have survived?”

“I know some of the EMTs,” Chloe said. “I’ll find out for you.”

Romeo nodded. He’d clenched his jaw so tightly, she thought she could hear his teeth grinding together. She tugged on his arm until he tore his gaze away from the scene and focused on her.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” she told him.

“Everything is not going to be fucking okay,” he snapped, pulling away from her and Dax. “People are dead. The business is ruined. The club can’t afford this.”

“No,” Dax said fiercely. “We’ll find out who did this and we will make them pay.”

“I thought I could do this,” Romeo whispered. “The club is sinking and I can’t do anything to stop it. Wheels was wrong about me.”

“Stop it,” Dax muttered. “Yank your head out of your ass and think.”

Romeo glared at him. “I’m wallowing in self-pity and you tell me to haul my head out of my ass? You’re a fucking dick.”

“And you’re a pussy if you let a little setback dictate what type of president you are,” Dax retorted. “We’ll regroup, rethink. We weren’t prepared before, but now we know we’re under attack. We can even call your brother if you want.”

“No,” Romeo said. “Lily and the baby need him. I wouldn’t ask Branch to leave them.”

“The Red Wolves are our allies. North would be more than happy to come himself.”

“We’ll see. What kind of president would that make me if I cried for help every time a problem arose?”

“This is hardly a little problem,” Dax said as he gestured to the ruined building in front of them.

Romeo nodded. “Granted. I just want to try to deal with whatever foe this is before we call in any type of cavalry.”

“Well, we know it’s not the Shanks,” Chloe said.

Romeo glanced at her in surprise. “We?” he questioned.

She nodded and lifted her chin. “I came here to repay a debt. Like it or not, you need me.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Sorry, sweetheart, but I don’t need anyone.”

“Then what
do
you need, Romeo?” she demanded. “The man I’ve read about went hunting for the man who fucked over this club. The man I’ve read about wouldn’t moan and groan about how the responsibility is too much for him. You wouldn’t have taken the patch if you thought you weren’t the right man for the job.”