Redemption (2 page)

“Abigail, this isn’t the time to hold cards close against your chest. I’m starting to fear we’re all in danger from one source or another.”

She faced him—eyes big and curious. “Like what?”

Her expression seemed naive in its asking. St. John still felt somewhat uncomfortable in exposing everything to her. She did, after all, have an entirely different motive. Though his initial goal had been to infiltrate this band of social misfits, and bring the Savage Nation to its knees with arrests and long prison sentences, he’d shifted—maybe seen the light.

“Abigail, where’ve you been all this time?” Then he reconsidered. This approach wasn’t fair. He patted her scarred knuckles.

He cleared his throat and tried to soften his expression. “I mean look at the situation. Rage, Fury and Vengeance are all dead. Justice has rediscovered an enemy that scares the hell out of him. My best friend, Jeff Graham was brutally murdered for my benefit.” That last one hit him hard and sudden. He paused to compose himself. “And the only two cops I kind of trust got assaulted in a late-night desert ambush set up by our own boss. Honestly, if Lawless wasn’t a Boudreaux, he and Voodoo would be another killed-in-the-line-of-duty statistic.”

He saw Abigail stiffen as she slid back across the seat. This yo-yo effect of emotion and physical proximity wore thin on St. John. He knew she’d been through more than he could imagine. It was up to him to decide whether she should become a part of the scenario’s resolution, or be hidden away until everything was safe. Ultimately, he wanted to protect her—unlike he had his deceased wife.

His glare slid to the rearview mirror. Had they been followed to Hope Falls like last time? Of course, had Sue and Rotten not followed them, the rogue bikers from the Savage’s Las Vegas Chapter and the Los Jinetes would’ve shredded them with bullets.

He thought about Justice’s pledge to root out the traitors, and hoped Dragon Mike had been able to stay alive. St. John would text him later. The single headlights he thought he’d caught in the rearview must not have been legitimate. Maybe he was still ragged from the California experience. There was too much shit left undone. Hell, he’d never discovered whose sedan he’d unloaded his weapon into a few weeks back before his last face-to-face meeting with Lawless and Voodoo. He felt sure it was Ford and Dr. Worthington who’d followed him that night. But there was room for doubt.

Seemed like the West had returned to the Wild West.

“Okay, there they are.” St. John pointed into the darkness.

Abigail leaned against the dashboard. “Where?”

Again, St. John jabbed a bruised finger against the darkness. “There in the shadows. You have to look at angles and spot the differences in light.”

“Uhmm, James…”

“Stay sharp. I’m going to make a few circles to flush out surveillance.”

“James,” she said louder. Her eyes seemed to bounce with fright.

“Yeah, sorry. Just can’t get caught up like last time. What’s up?”

“I know Gray Man,” she confessed.

St. John smashed his foot onto the brake pedal. “What?”

“Not personally, but I’m the one whose been emailing him. I wanted to set up that gun deal so the cops can show up to bust everyone.”

He flipped an illegal U-turn instead of making the left that would’ve led into the parking lot behind an old warehouse, now converted for hydroponics grow houses for Colorado’s newest cash crop.

“How in the hell did you manage that?” he howled.

“Before I came after the Savages, I went to Ricky’s place looking for information on his computer. I found everything, except I didn’t know who a number from Sonoma County belonged to. Eventually I figured it out. There’s still a Vegas number unclaimed, but I assume it’s connected to Ricky, too.”

“That’s amazing, but how would you have paid for those guns?”

“I know where the quarter million is stashed. Ricky was violent, but he wasn’t the smartest guy in the world. I wanted to buy the guns and plant them on the club’s property so the cops could find them after a well-placed anonymous call.” Her hand wrapped around his bicep.

“How far have you gone in this plan with Gray Man?” he asked.

St. John was driving erratically, enough to have noticed anyone following him. He knew Lawless and Voodoo were waiting for him, but this bombshell changed everything—everything. He needed to know all he could from her about Gray Man. Her gullible efforts to set up the gun deal as revenge might’ve been a blessing in diguise.

She smiled. “We were supposed to meet a few days ago to get it done. But he said he was tied up with friends coming over for a BBQ.”

St. John’s gut wrenched at her sincerity—she had no clue how dead she would’ve been. He debated whether to tell her then decided she was better off not knowing.

“Trust me. Don’t do anything with Gray Man until I tell you,” he said.

Her face exploded with a look of anger and disbelief. She zipped her hand from his arm. “Fuck you. I’ve almost died to pay these bastards back for what they did to my son. And you’ve got the nerve to think you’re going stop me? I’ve taken chances to figure this whole damn thing out. It’s what led to my son’s death. How could I not want every one of them dead?” Her mouth puckered as tears formed and fell.

“I didn’t want to drop this on you, but you, more than anyone, deserve to know,” St. John said. “Gray Man is who we went after. He’s a serial killer—a CIA trained murdering bastard. Justice realized who he was, recognized him, but it was too late.” St. John’s eyes juddered back and forth between her and the rearview mirror.

“He’s always seemed polite over e-mail,” she said, flipping her palms up in surrender.

“Fuck, I watched him murder my best friend. And once he was done raping him, he ate him. Agent Jeff Graham was your pen pal’s BBQ,” St. John’s voice cracked in frustration.

Abigail’s face blanched. She sobbed into her palm.

St. John waited her out.

Finally she looked up, her eyes glazed over. “James, I’m sorry. We’ve both lost so much. I’ll do what you say. Tell me what to do.”

St. John took her hand. He rubbed his thumb over the bubbled skin of her fresh ink. He felt a new connection with her. “I need you to meet these two agents,” he said quietly. “Tell them everything and we’ll set up a plan to put this to bed. You’ll get your revenge. This investigation will close and Graham’s family will recover what’s left of their son.”

“Cops? No way.” Her other hand waved off the idea. “I trust you—only you. Hell, even you said you didn’t totally trust them.”

His lips pinched together as his mind shuffled to find a strategy to salvage the scenario. “Then what, Abigail?”

“Ditch them. We’ll figure it out.”

T
hey parked two
blocks down and another street off the main highway. Abigail held onto his hand as St. John led her through an alley and alongside a fast food stand before they found another motel. With cautious eyes, he glared over her shoulder. No surprise ambushes this time.

“Can I please call you Louis? I’m ready for all of this to end—mostly having to pretend you’re someone you’re not,” she begged, mashing the blinds closed.

“I prefer, Lou, but we’re not in the clear yet. Those two agents we blew off are the key to ending this. Just us doing it will take longer, but we’ll figure a way out.” St. John huffed as he shoved furniture against the door and placing his weapons close to the bed. He asked for Abigail’s pistol and set it in a strategic spot. She laughed uneasily at the thought of him relying on her for safety.

“Let’s just grab the money and get out of here,” she whispered, as they pressed close at the foot of the bed.

“Baby, they’d kill us, or the feds would capture us. I know it seems easiest, but it isn’t possible. The Savage Nation has chapters and subgroups all over the world. We’d never survive.” He ran both hands across her back. “We’d leave too many powerful enemies to pursue us. Worst of all would be Gray Man. We need a plan to take everyone out of the picture.”

Her heart sunk. He spoke reality. What she’d thought was a gold mine might become a powder keg if she wasn’t careful. She sincerely wanted to start a new life, one with St. John, but beyond the cat and mouse of an undercover investigation, would he really be interested in a tatted-up house mouse?

She lowered her gaze. “You’re right. There’s a federal case you’ve been assigned to, and it didn’t involve screwing around with me.” Her voice mixed with tears. “Do what you have to—I’ll be fine. After all, I came here not expecting to leave alive.”

St. John’s fingers dug into her shoulders. His eyes blazed with emotion. He shook her, not forcefully, but enough to demand attention. She gasped at the intensity in his stare. Abigail wasn’t afraid, but alarmed at what he might say.

“Fuck the agency. I’m here because there aren’t many with the balls to do what I’m doing. They shove their dicks behind a desk and talk about pensions and accrued vacation time all day. Then they have the nerve to rip me behind my back and laugh about the way I look when I come into the field offices to check in. Satisfying the agency is my last concern. I know you don’t want to hear this, but the Savages are the closet thing I have to a family. Sure, there are some assholes I’d love to bust. But there are others I’d do anything to protect.”

She felt the emotional rise and fall of his chest—saw his face lit like a lamp. Emotions boiling to the surface.

“I don’t blame you, baby, I felt the same way. I came to get them just like you did, but there’s something about the lifestyle that’s intoxicating.” She paced the room—hands in her hair. “I don’t understand it either. I think it’s the chance to belong to something bigger than yourself, no matter the cost of belonging. Is that desperate or what?” she asked.

St. John reached to enfold her. She loved the feeling. The inked up images that adorned his arms seemed to come to life as they rode the waves of muscles that flexed and popped as he moved naturally.

“No, its human to want to belong.” He stroked her hair and gently kissed her forehead. “Losing my wife left a hole where giving a shit about life once was. I told you from the start there was something special about you—I sensed it. But I also felt life had broken you, like it broke me. Protecting you filled that void. I want to get you out of this mess—alive.”

“Is that all you want with me, to help me escape?” She feared the answer. Her head pressed deep into his hard pecs.

St. John pushed her away.

She felt sick with sadness.

He stared into her eyes.

She blinked back tears, afraid of his rejection.

“No, Abigail. What I want is you.”

The last time she’d felt awash with joyful peace was watching Jack trying to keep up with the older kids at his birthday party. Of course, the Savage Souls had ended that illusion. She feared they’d find a way to end this one, too.

“I trust you. I really do trust you. You are all I have in this life—do what you have to do. Even if it means I have to meet with those two narcs.” She pouted.

“Thank you, baby. You may also have to come off that quarter mil—its blood money and you’ll never rest.”

Abigail nodded. “It’s worth our freedom.” She pressed her mouth to his and felt a wave of relaxation roll through his body as he eased up. “Of course, I’ll take out just enough for laser tattoo removal. It’s the least those fuckers can pay for.”

He chuckled. “I don’t know, kinda digging this one down here.” His hand pushed between her buttoned jeans and panties. He loosened the buttons and his roaming hand slid deeper into her pants.

She moaned at his touch. Her tongue rolled around his mouth, playing chase with his. He tried to push her jeans down one-handed but they caught on her ass. She wiggled her hips side to side and helped him undress her. His fingers slipped easily into her pussy, and she felt the gush of liquid rush south. She’d needed his caring touch since the last time they’d made love.

He leaned away to break the seal between their lips. He looked frantic. “Abigail, I’m so sorry. I didn’t consider you might not want to be touched after your last attack.” His expression filled with sincere concern.

“No, baby, I’m okay. I’ve learned to separate what they do to my body from what you do to my heart.”

She kissed his smiling lips. Sure, she felt the filth from every rape and forced cum-filled gangbang, but her mind had fractured. Now, she compartmentalized each side. Let the horrific shit bury itself without interfering with her chance of discovering a normal life—if that was even remotely possible.

“Don’t stop, James. I need your touch. You make me feel human.”