Rush - Blue Devils MC Book 2 (Book 1 Included FREE for a short time only!) (35 page)

Chapter 22

~ Brock ~

The hold music set Brock’s teeth on edge. He really didn’t have time to sit around and wait for Dan to get his worthless ass on the phone.

Finally
, Dan picked up. “What?” he barked into the phone.

“Go fuck yourself, Dan, that’s what,” Brock snarled in return. “Your dumbass reporter wasn’t so dumbass after all. You
promised
me that she was young, dumb, and blonde, and wouldn’t cause me any problems. You
promised
me that your little
Pout
piece was nothin’ but ‘Check out the sexy bikers in Arizona.’

“But you fucking
lied
to me. Your goddamn reporter was nothing like advertised! Thank God she went home yesterday!”

“Whaddya mean, went home?” Dan echoed. “She just asked on Friday if she could stay until Wednesday. She sure ain’t here. She said that
you
haven’t been available to interview like you were supposed to be, so she had to stay longer. In fact, according to her, you were supposed to be outta town until tomorrow. So don’t be blaming all this shit on Ella.”

“Staying until Wednesday?” Brock echoed stupidly, trying to get his bearings. “But—” He cut himself off just in time. Obviously Ella was playing both sides of the table here, and Brock wasn’t about to reveal this little tidbit to Dan. “I guess I had it wrong, then,” he said smoothly, trying to backpedal furiously without making it appear that he was, in fact, backpedaling furiously. “I’ll go make sure to find her right now” - at least that part was true - “and do a full interview with her on the spot.”

“K,” Dan said, and hung up. He obviously didn’t much care.

Brock set his cell down and stared off into the distance. Ella was lying to everyone - lying to her boss about him, pretending to leave when she really hadn’t…

But what did Lain know? Was he in on these lies? Did he know Ella hadn’t left, or was he trying to hide this fact from the club? And from him?

Yeah, he was a brother, and yeah, he knew Lain would lay down his life for the club, but he had an independent streak in him a mile wide. Would Lain lay down his life for
Brock
? That was a much more important question.

And Brock didn’t have an answer.

Picking up the phone again, he quickly called Chili. Without wasting time on greetings, he barked, “Put out the word - Ella’s gone AWOL. All bikers need to be out searching for her right now. Bring her to me when you find her. Oh, and don’t tell Lain nothin’.”

Chili didn’t blink an eyelash. “Yes, sir!” he said, and hung up the phone without another word.

Chili could always be relied upon to be a good soldier. Unlike Lain, he took orders and followed ‘em and never thought to question ‘em. Chili would lay down his life for the club,
and
for Brock.

Which is how it should be.

Goddamn it, had Lain gone rogue? Was he hiding shit from the rest of the club?

“Fuck!” Brock yelled in frustration, and slammed his hand down on the stainless steel table.
No one
was going to usurp Brock’s authority.

No one.

~ Ella ~

She stepped inside of the squat, shoebox-style brick building, and into the cool AC air. She took a deep breath. God, that was nice.

She headed towards the counter where a uniformed officer stood, shuffling papers, looking pissed. Or frustrated. Or something. Ella was hoping against hope that this frustration wouldn’t rub off onto their conversation. She needed the officer to be helpful and friendly, not pissy and surly.

“Hi,” she said brightly as she stepped up to the counter. “I’m a reporter and I’m doing a story on the Blue Devils.” She decided impulsively to leave “New York” out of the discussion. People in Arizona didn’t seem to take too kindly to New Yorkers poking around in their business. Not, of course, that her accent wouldn’t give her away.

“Um-hmmm…” the office said, not bothering to look up from his paperwork. A second police officer glanced at her as he walked through, and then continued on to the back.

Friendly little bunch.

“Well, I’d like to know if you have noticed a link between the Blue Devils and the death rate around here. I mean, do you think that the Blue Devils are responsible for the outsized numbers of deaths that Copper Lode has experienced over the last two years? The spike in gun-related shootings has been pretty dramatic.”

Fuck!
How is it that the people in the movies always fucking know what to say and do? I’m Amateur Hour over here, and it’s painfully obvious even to me!

“Listen, lady,” he drawled, finally looking up from his sorting project, “I don’t have time to worry about the Blue Devils. Didn’t you hear it on the news? A whole bus full of Mexican girls were kidnapped last night on the way to a week-long camp up in the mountains. It was just over the border, and an APB has gone out to all local units because the chances are high that the kidnappers made a run for the border overnight. The last thing I have time to worry about right now is a group of bike lovers.”

Ella took a step backwards.

Shit, shit, and double shit
.

She replayed it in her mind. She’d been drunk at the time, but not
that
drunk…

“Brock had some things come up this week.”

“What kind of things?” she persisted. Lain shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

“Club business. It was supposed to happen in a couple of weeks but it got moved up, so he’s been concentrating on making it happen quickly.”

And then, her research into the
Chupacabras
…They had been charged with abducting and selling young girls into the sex trade.

Young, Mexican, school girls.

They’d gotten off on a technicality. The gang leaders were free…to do it again.

With hands shaking, she pulled out her iPhone from her purse and did a quick search. She pulled up a news article with blaring headlines - 30 Catholic girls had been kidnapped, all 8 - 10 years old. The same age as the previous
Chupacabras
kidnapping victims.

And there it was, in black and white…

“The field trip had originally been scheduled for next Monday but had been moved up to today because of scheduling conflicts with the church campground they were heading to. Some bereaved parents are saying that maybe if the school had stuck to their original schedule, their daughters would be safe. It’s hard to know until—”

Except, it wasn’t. Ella knew. The
Chupacabras
were always planning on kidnapping these girls. And they were always going to have the Blue Devils help them. She shoved her phone into her purse, thinking. Scrambling to put the pieces together.

What were they loading into the tractor-trailer last night? Crates of guns? Maybe the
Chupacabras
felt like they needed the extra—

“Aaaahhhh!!!” Ella yelped as a hand gripped her elbow in a vice grip.

“What the hell?!” she demanded as she looked up.

Right into Lain’s very dark, very pissed chocolate brown eyes.

Fuuuuucccckkkkkkk
…

She turned back towards the police officers to beg for their help as Lain began dragging her towards the door. The two police officers stood there, waving at her and smiling, looking for all the world like they were sending her off onto a grand adventure.

Traitors.

It was a total rookie move, trusting the police. Surely after binge watching
Sons of Anarchy
, she shoulda known that trusting the police was a dumbass move to make.

Her newbie status was going to get her killed.

“Just tell me now - are you
trying
to get yourself killed? Because if you keep this up, I just might let you succeed! And,” he opened up the passenger side door of the truck and shoved her in, “what the fuck did you do to your hair??” He slammed the door closed and stalked around to the other side, leaving her opening and closing her mouth like a beached fish.

Well, at least he opened up the truck door for me this time
.

Which made her smile.

Which made Lain even more angry. “This ain’t funny, lady! Brock doesn’t take kindly to people causing him problems, especially not reporters from New York!”

Lain started the truck and turned the AC on full blast, just as her phone began to ring. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel impatiently as she scrambled to pull it out of her purse. Glancing at the screen, she realized it was Dan. Fuck it. Whatever he had to say, he could wait his turn. She hit the button at the top of the phone to silence it and shoved it back in her purse.

It was time to lay aside her anger at Lain. She had to lay it all out there; she had to convince Lain to listen to her. The Blue Devils could not help the
Chupas
with their evil plan. They had to save those little girls.

Chapter 23

~ Lain ~

Seeing Ella again was painful. He’d spent the last 24 hours telling himself that he had to get over her. That he wasn’t going to fucking see her again, and that this was for the best. That she’d be safe in New York, and wasn’t that all that mattered?

And then here she was again, stirring up shit, causing problems, and Lain didn’t know if he wanted to strangle her or fuck her.

And what the bloody fucking hell had she done to her gorgeous hair?? Short and black and spiky - way too modern and…New Yorker.

And her face…he couldn’t tear his eyes away. She looked…different than usual. He wasn’t exactly a fashion guy, but even he could tell she’d done something different. It matched her hair. He didn’t like it one bit.

And her clothing choices! She looked like she’d shopped in the Bag Lady section at Wal-Mart. Where were her sexy shorts and tank tops and cute flip-flops that showed off her pink toenails? Black, shapeless, baggy shit. This wasn’t
his
Ella.

He snapped back to reality. She’d been talking, and he’d been…well, he didn’t want to think about what he’d been thinking about. What kind of pussy had he turned into, thinking about pink toenails for God’s sake?

“Start again!” he barked.

He wasn’t going to apologize for his lack of attention to her words. If she’d just not…totally changed like a fucking chameleon on him, he wouldn’t have been distracted. So really, this was all her fault.

Except, if she looked like
your Ella
like she normally did, then you’d be distracted by her anyway.

He ignored this.

Ella let out an exacerbated sigh and started again.

“The Blue Devils are selling guns to the
Chupacabras
, right?”

He stayed stone silent. She may be too goddamn fucking smart for her own good, but he wasn’t going to actually validate her information. She plowed on, ignoring his silence.

“The
Chupacabras
made a huge hit last night - kidnapped 30 young Catholic schoolgirls in Mexico who were on the way to church camp. I think they need these guns to make this child sex trafficking deal go down. They kidnapped these girls, all poor, from a small community just on the other side of the border, and are going to sell them to rich, twisted, sons-of-bitches here in the US. I don’t specifically know what they need these guns for that you’re selling them, other than maybe to guard the girls while waiting to sell them on the black market?”

“Hold on!” Lain protested before he could think it through. Before he could stop himself from giving everything away. “Brock told us that the
Chupas
needed these guns to protect their turf. He didn’t say a goddamn thing about girls and child sex trafficking. Brock wouldn’t get our club into that kind of shit. No fucking way.” He shook his head, his protests growing weaker as his knee-jerk reaction faded, and reality set in.

Actually, this was
exactly
the kind of thing Brock would get them into. And he wouldn’t tell Lain because he’d know Lain would never let it happen.

And…Lain just told Ella that she was right.

Goddamn motherfucking son-of-a-bitch
.

But before he could figure out how to backpedal, or if that was even possible, Ella was shoving her phone into his hands. “Read it,” she demanded and then crossed her arms, waiting none-too-patiently for him to do as she asked. He wouldn’t put up with that kind of attitude from anyone else except for Brock…and now apparently Ella.

With a sigh, he flicked his eyes down to the article and started scanning through. And then slowed. And then stopped and went back up to the top and read it carefully.

And it all made sense.

Oh Jesus Christ motherfucking goddamn son-of-a-bitch…

He slammed his truck into reverse, tossing the phone at Ella as he tore down the street. “Where are you staying?” he barked.

“At the Y-Inn,” she said, grabbing onto the door as he swerved around the corner, horns blaring. He ignored the middle finger salute being given to him by passing drivers - they could go fuck themselves. He had more important shit to deal with.

“Goddamn it, that motel owner’s a slime ball. Can’t trust him. There’s a motel right up the street from my place with a better guy in charge. I’m gonna drop you off and we’ll go get the rest of your shit when I get back.” They squealed into the parking lot and they slammed against their seat belts when he slammed on the breaks. He threw the truck into park but left the engine running.

He hopped out and ran into the office of the Cactus Motel, not checking to make sure Ella was keeping up. He could use good manners later, when his club wasn’t about to get implicated into a child sex trafficking ring.

“I need two rooms with an adjoining door. You got that available?” he demanded from the teenage clerk behind the counter.

“Ummm…yes, sir!” the pimply teenager said, jumping up from his stool and putting down his comic book.

Lain pulled out his wallet and yanked out a Grant. “Good. And here’s a $50 if you’ll keep your big mouth shut about us being here. Someone asks, you know
nothing
. Got it?” He dangled the bill in front of the kid’s eyes, knowing that it was probably the first time the kid had ever even seen a $50 bill in real life.

“Yes sir!!” the teen said enthusiastically.

Lain pulled out a couple of hundreds and paid for the rooms in cash. “Any word at all that gets out, and I’ll be sure to come back and pay you a visit.”

The teen swallowed and stumbled over his words, “No way! I would never!” Lain tossed the $50 at him and taking Ella by the arm, forced her out of the office and down to the end of the row of motel rooms.

“Why two rooms?” she panted as he pulled her along.

“Maybe other Blue Devils will be spending the night. I don’t look forward to sharing you with them.”

And then, in the middle of everything going down, he remembered those awful words he’d shouted at her:

You didn’t even make a very good sheep - you didn’t fuck anyone else in the club. All the guys will be disappointed that you left without giving a blowjob as a goodbye present.

He would apologize to her later. If they managed to live through this.

He unlocked the door and shoved her inside. “Under no circumstances will you leave this room. Or unlock the door. For once in your goddamn life, you’re gonna stay where you’re put. Got it?”

She nodded, clearly worried.

“I’ll be back.
Stay put!
” and then slammed the door behind him. He didn’t walk away until he heard the deadbolt slide into place.