Reckless Love (Satan's Prophets MC, Book 2) (Satan's Prophets MC Series) (15 page)

Mick was pacing around his bedroom. He couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling he had in his gut. He was thinking of heading down to Blackwood and nosing around himself to get the feel of the situation. He felt helpless, like a sitting duck just hanging around Fulton.

The next day, Mick talked to Striker. “I don’t like it, but if you’re determined to go, take Rebel and Spokes with you. Not good, you goin’ alone, bro,” Striker worriedly told Mick.

“I’m sick of waiting for reports. If I go down there, we’ll know what’s going on that much sooner. I realize I can’t risk being seen, but I can become a homeless person on the streets and keep my eyes and ears open. And I think it’s better if I go alone; too many new faces might raise suspicions.”

Striker nodded. “Might be worth a shot. Just be careful, and anything you learn, you do nothing. Sit tight until we figure out a plan.”

* * *

The next day, he went to see Renee. “I’m gonna be out of town for a week, maybe longer, babe. Just wanted to let you know.”

Renee felt a shiver come over her. Mick sounded so serious, like he was worried about something. “Is everything all right, Mick?”

“Yeah, baby, everything’s fine. Just ordinary club business to check on. Don’t worry, I’ll be back before you know it.” He pasted a fake smile on his face and kissed her tenderly to reassure her and hoped she bought it. Last thing he needed now was for Renee to get all skittish about his lifestyle when things were so great between them.

* * *

Mick walked into the Satan’s Prophets sister clubhouse down in Blackwood the next night. Bubba pushed the half-dressed whore off his lap and came walking over with a look of surprise on his face. “What the fuck you doin’ all the way down here, bro? I’d think you’re the last person that would wanna show their ugly face around here.”

Mick snorted. “Believe me, brother, this is the last place I want to be right now. Come on and have a drink with me and I’ll tell you why I’m here.”

* * *

The next morning, Mick headed to the motel Bubba had told him about. It was rundown and dirty, but in a perfect, seedy location of town to carry out his plan. He looked around the motel room in disgust. He didn’t want to take his boots off, looking at the old stained carpeting on the floor. The bed didn’t look much better, with its shabby comforter and flat pillows. Mick wondered how the manager got away with charging such a high price for such a piece of shit room. He hoped he wouldn’t have to be here too long.

Mick rode back to the Salvation Army store he passed on the way into town. He bought an old-looking pair of pants along with a button-down sweater and shirt. Next, he found a pair of high, brown, beat up boots and an old jacket. He parked his pick-up a block away and walked back to the motel. When he got to his room, he tore some buttons off the jacket to make his role more believable. He waited until night time and headed out.

Mick was sitting on the stoop of an old apartment building watching the hookers stroll up and down the sidewalk. Some of them looked too old and used up to attract any customers, but there were a few that looked fresher and younger.
Probably not on drugs as long as the others,
he thought to himself.

One older woman stopped and stared at him. When she bent over and got right into his face, her tits popped out of the skimpy top she had on. She laughed and tweaked her nipples as she told Mick, “Ya know honey, you’re really not
that
bad-looking. Heck, old Aggie here will do ya for free.”

Mick grimaced and looked up into her overly made-up face that couldn’t quite hide all the wrinkles and told her he had syphilis.

She muttered, “Figures, I find a decent one and can’t have him.”

“Why don’t you sit down and talk to me?” he suggested. “I’ll give ya a drink of booze for some company.”

She looked at his ragged clothes and worn out boots. “Where the hell you gonna get a bottle of booze?”

“Right here,” he answered, pulling out the small pocket-sized bottle of whiskey from his pocket. “Sit.”

She eyed up the bottle like it was a full course meal and licked her bottom lip. “Okay, honey, but I can’t sit for too long. Won’t make any money that way.”

He handed her the bottle and she used her handkerchief to wipe off the rim. She sat down next to him on the stoop and took a drink.

“What do ya wanna talk about? My fantastic life or something?” She laughed in a raspy voice from smoking too many cigarettes.

“Nah, interesting as it may be. I was just curious about the warehouse around the corner. Thought I might try my luck at making some money. Word on the street says the owner is looking for men to hire.”

The smile faded off her face. “Listen, honey. Take old Aggie’s advice: if you know what’s good for you, you’ll just sit here and mind your own business. Don’t go sticking your nose in where it’ll get cut off. Those men, they’re
mean
dudes
. They …” She clamped her mouth shut and jumped up. “Time’s up.” She looked down at Mick one last time. “Just take my advice, honey; you’ll live longer that way.”

* * *

Mick wasn’t having much luck, and he couldn’t chance getting any closer to the warehouse. He didn’t know if anyone was left in Carlo’s gang who would recognize him from working with Jaz’s stepdad. Nick Wallis fronted Carlo’s drug trafficking out of his tattoo shop and was killed for skimming money from the profits.

Mick was trying to stay alert, but it was rough-going without a cup of coffee. He needed to get some sleep and was off his game, or else he would have sensed being watched from the shadows. He got up slowly and started walking the few blocks back to the motel, the slight chill in the air reviving him. He got two blocks away when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He turned around fast and caught a slight movement shift into a building entranceway. He walked faster, turned the corner, and backed up against the side of a building to wait. When the figure turned the corner, Mick pounced. With one arm hooked around the neck and the other around the chest, he felt them. Tits! He turned her around and she kicked him, trying to break his hold.

“Not gonna work, babe. I’m about a hundred pounds heavier than you and three times stronger.” Mick pulled her under the nearest streetlamp, surprised to see she was much younger than the other hookers. “Why are you following me?”

When she didn’t answer, he tightened his hold until she had a hard time breathing. Mick waited until she went pliant and was gasping for breath before loosening his grip.

He gave her a little shake. “Are you going to answer me or do I have to squeeze it out of you?” He started to tighten his grip around her chest once again.

“Hold on, I’ll talk! Just don’t squeeze me again.”

Mick held her by her arm and waited for her to talk.

Sally thought fast and said the only thing she could think of. “I was just watching to see where you were going. I need a place to sleep for the night, thought maybe I could… squeeze in where you’re staying.”

Mick looked at her faded old jeans and her stretched out hoodie to her black canvas sneakers that had a toe sticking out through a hole. He rolled up her long sleeves looking for tracks and found none; last thing he needed was to get involved with a junkie.

“What’s your name and how old are you?”

Sally told him the fake name she always used. “Sara, and I’m twenty-five.”

“Where do you live, Sara?”

“On the streets, mostly. I had a place, but got kicked out, couldn’t make the rent. So now, I mostly sleep in old abandoned buildings, moving from one to another so I don’t get discovered.”

He looked around. She seemed to be alone. Mick didn’t believe a word of what she’d said, but he did want to find out why she was trailing him. “Okay, come with me. I’ll let you stay with me for the night.”

Mick opened the door to his room and she followed him in. She looked around the shabby room and grimaced.

“You can sleep on the chair or floor, which ever you prefer.” Mick didn’t want to let her out of his sight, especially until he found out what her game was.

* * *

Something’s off with this one,
Sally thought. Homeless men couldn’t afford motel rooms, even if they were shabby and rundown. He was definitely undercover, but for who, she needed to find out.

The next morning, Mick walked into the room with donuts and coffee.
Yes!
She was starving. When Mick sat down on the edge of the bed, Sally got a good look at his face in the sunlight. It wasn’t the weathered face she usually saw on homeless men, and when he pushed up his sweater sleeves, she saw the tattoos running down both his arms.
Hmm…
She was positive now: definitely not a homeless man.

* * *

“You want me to do what?” Sally looked at Mick, surprised.

“Look, Sara, you need a place to stay. I can take care of that for you. All I ask in return is that you hang out on a certain corner near here.”

Sally thought long and hard, wondering what his game was. He intrigued her investigative nature. He was up to something. She was sure of it and was determined to find out just what it was. “Okay. What exactly do I need to do?”

“Nothing much. Just keep your eyes and ears open, and if you see a lot of cars or trucks pulling into the warehouse, you let me know.”

“That’s it? That’s all I have to do?”

“Yeah. You do that for me, and you know what I will do for you. A room to sleep in every night.”

“Sounds good to me.” Sally held out her hand to shake. “Deal.”

* * *

Roberto couldn’t believe his eyes. Sally was standing near the corner at the end of the block the warehouse was on.

He pulled up alongside of her. “Get the fuck in before I wring your fuckin’ neck.”

He drove out of town to a secluded spot and parked his car. Furiously, he jumped out,
dragging Sally with him.

“I can’t fuckin’ believe this! DEA sent you down here, a woman, to do their dirty work for them! What are you here for? To spy on
me
, or
them
?”

Roberto was spewing out question after question, not giving Sally a chance to answer.

“Nice to see you too, Roberto.” Sally smirked. “By the way, I’m Sara on this job, not Sally, and if you manhandle me like that again, you’ll be missing a set of balls.”

Roberto laughed. “Still the same old Sally, I see. I thought you met a nice man and settled down.”

“Yeah, I did, only he turned out not so nice. Besides, too boring a life for me. Now that we know we’re stuck working together, what ya got?”

“Nothing solid. Just waiting to find out if Santos will make an appearance. How about you? Any word out on the street?”

“Got some guy you might be interested in. Wants me hanging around this corner to keep alert for any activity going on in that warehouse down the road. He was sitting on a door stoop playing the homeless man role. I watched him for a while, but he’s a sharp one, found me out fast. My instincts tell me he is MC. No clue who he’s affiliated with yet.”

“Look, Sally, just be careful. Don’t get too close to the warehouse or to any of the men. Just play your part and keep tabs on this guy for me. If he is MC affiliated, be super careful; they’re not men to mess around with. Come on, I’d better get back.”

Roberto dropped Sally back off at the corner and warned her, once again, to be careful.

* * *

Mick rode over to the Bubba’s clubhouse to make a call out to Striker. “Got anything, brother?”

“Just that I was followed last night and I’m waiting to see what is up with that. Nothing out of the hookers’ mouths except for one haggard one who wants me,” he groaned. “If I don’t see or hear anything soon, I’m heading back. How is Renee? She okay?”

“Yeah, man, don’t worry. Holly and Jaz are over there almost every day keeping her occupied. Stay safe, brother.”

Mick wasn’t going to call Renee, but he didn’t want her worrying too much about him, so he changed his mind. “Hey, baby, how ya doin’? Just wanted to check in and make sure you and Michael are okay.”

Renee was thrilled to hear Mick’s voice. Regardless of how he tried to reassure her, she couldn’t help worrying. Old memories resurfaced of the danger the club dealt with. “We’re good, Mick. When are you coming home? We miss you.”

“Soon, baby, soon. Almost done here, maybe a few more days ‘til I get back. I miss ya, babe.”

“Please be careful, Mick, and I miss you too.”