Thrash (12 page)

In reality, Rage leaned on me more now than ever. But Bones was giving me too rare an opportunity here.

Yeah, I had issues with Wrath, but Rage hadn’t let me down. So long as the club knew what I was worth, I was willing to work through whatever shit came up, whether it was with the new guy or my own issues.

But Bones wasn’t like that. He’d never been like that. If the man had one weakness, it was that he showed his vulnerability by shutting out people he suspected were a threat to him – even if they never would be. He was one of those “a pre-emptive strike is the best policy” guys. That mentality had its merits. But it also had its weaknesses, and Bones had never been one to work well with others to balance that flaw out.

Which made it easier to play him.

“I never replaced you,” Bones said. “Never would. You’re the best wingman a man could ask for. You see it like it is. You break it down. Put it back together. You make it better. You know how to make sure it doesn’t break again. You’re a god-damn genius, DeMarcus. Rage is an idiot to replace you. Come work for me. I get loyalty.”

I almost laughed at that, but I looked at him – really looked at him – and realized he believed it.

The bastard really believed it.

“I didn’t leave Fire and Steel,” he muttered angrily. “It left me.”

Fuck, if that wasn’t everything I wanted to hear. I actually shook my head to clear it of the flattery. The tricky part was that while most of what he said was true – or I believed it was true anyway – his reasons for telling me were as twisted as his addictions.

There was a dangerous genius in Bones. Unfortunately, it was against us rather than with us. I knew where my loyalties lay, and I knew where he wanted them to be.

I did what I did best. I played chameleon.

“You want me with you?” I asked as if I needed to be sure.

“You know I do. We work well together. You make a great second. Rage is a good kid, but he’s no leader. You’re wasted on him. And none of my men understand the risks of actions the way that you do.”

I hesitated.

“I need to think about it, man.” I drew out my sentence, made it seem like I was truly considering his proposal.

“That’s what I like to hear. Consider it. But don't run your fucking mouth to that club of yours.”

“Have I so far?” I asked.

“No. No you haven’t. Always could trust you to have my back.” He said it with the utmost confidence. Like I’d never betray him. Like he fully trusted me.

I fought the urge to glare at him. Yeah, I’d have his back alright, when I was sticking a fucking knife in it.

“I’ll be in contact,” he said, cutting our conversation off abruptly. “Until then, say nothing.”

Without another word, Bones started up his bike and crept away from the loading bay doors. He passed by me so close I could have stabbed him. But I didn’t.

Instead, I let him off, speeding down the alleyway and turning out of sight.

I doubted I’d be able to follow him through this mess of alleys. There really wasn’t much point in trying.

I waited - what? – five minutes? ten? Then I started the engine, the roar deafening me in the tight space. It reverberated in my chest and left an ache as I slowly crawled my way out of the labyrinth.

Once I hit a main street, I took off and drove out of the city until I was following the Monongahela to Duquesne, looking for an empty lot.

Once there, I hopped off my bike and looked around. I hadn’t been followed. I dialed Rage.

“Rage? Hey, man, we need to talk. Meet me over at Silky’s. No, this is some serious shit. Don’t bring anyone else with you, except maybe Aidan.”

It would be better if Wrath came. Just in case Bones did spot us. I wanted him to believe I was just checking in. If he really believed the line he’d fed me, he’d never believe I’d admit it in front of Aidan.

13

I turned to make sure that the curtains were drawn. No one was going to enter this room until the mural was done. No one but me.

That was the way I worked. I couldn’t have them staring at half-finished products, questioning my every decision, trying to make suggestions.

I’d already spoken to Layla about it.

So I stood there and looked at the canvas. It was no longer a vast sprawl of white in my mind. I had done my research. I’d gotten to know the men and women of Fire and Steel. And now I could visualize almost everything that needed to go up on the wall. It would be perfect.

There was just one problem. None of it was actually on the wall yet. I’d gotten the base layer down, covering the primer, but to the eye of the casual observer, the wall was as blank as ever.

I sighed and sat on the conference table, trying not to be hard on myself for my lack of progress. I was an artist. Art – real art - took time.

“Hey, you wanna take a break?”

I whirled around to see Layla’s face peeking through the door. I balked. She was invading my space, doing exactly the opposite of what she had agreed to.

I should’ve yelled at her, gotten mad, demanded some artistic license.

Instead, I laughed. She was so goofy looking, with her hair in a mess and the stress of the day weighing on her. I imagined I looked the same.

“What?” she asked. She didn’t come in. She seemed to be intentionally avoiding looking at my work. Or lack of.

I just beamed at her. “You. You always know when to interrupt, don’t you?”

“I just thought you might need a break. Besides, I want some ice cream and popcorn, and I don’t want to explain that to any of the men folk today.”

“What do you suggest we do?” I asked.

She grinned wide at me. “Come on!”

As soon as I was near, she grabbed me and pulled me out of the room, her arm automatically linking with mine.

“I was thinking we could go get popcorn and ice cream,” she prattled happily. “But I’m not craving the grocery store kind. I want the
carnival
kind.” She said it with such gusto, I could practically taste it. “It’s
amazing
.” She looked around and whispered this to me, almost like we were conspiring.

“Are there any carnivals around here?” I asked, caught between laughter and delight.

“No, but there is an amusement park. Come with me to Kennywood? We can go on some rides and eat until we burst. Please?” she pouted at me, but we both knew I wasn’t going to say no.

After all, there was no point watching paint dry.

Besides, I wanted to ask her more about Thrash. Layla had known him since him since he was a kid. It was a rare opportunity. I would be crazy to pass up a chance like this.

I eyed the prospects ‘guarding’ the bar and the others gathered around a gabbing Mick. The man was as bad as a nebbie, the way he went on.

“Are we allowed to just walk out?” I whispered.

Layla’s smile didn’t falter, but her became a little sad as she replied, “Well, yes, but the boys have this bad habit of hovering. They stare at me like I’m an alien or something. And they would try to talk me out of Kennywood.”

“So we have to sneak out?”

Layla snorted, grinning at her belly fondly. She was already looking a little bigger. If the first few months were swamped in morning sickness and wild hormones, the fourth month was the beginning of all the sudden drastic physical changes. She was starting to show, and it was only going to get bigger from here.

“Honey, I don’t think I’ll be sneaking anywhere,” she answered frankly.

Well, that was true enough.

“Are you really going to go on the rides?” I whispered even more softly.

She grinned.

“We won’t go on any
dangerous
rides. And as for getting out of here? Leave that to me.” She winked and pulled me towards the door.

“Hey, Layla darlin’, just where are you taking our lovely artist?” Mick asked through the tubes of his oxygen tank as we walked by.

“I need to get some goodies. You
know
, Uncle Mick,
pregnancy cravings
.” She positively glowed at him, her smile bright and sweet as punch. “I asked Nora to drive me.” It was clear she had him wrapped around her little finger.

“Oh, okay,” he replied. “Just make sure you get her back here to work, huh?”

“Don’t worry, Uncle Mick. I’m all over it.” Layla gave him that big smile again, and then walked over and kissed him on the cheek.

I watched as the old man blushed, any sign of gruffness completely gone. He waved her away.

“Get off me. I don’t want the men thinkin’ I’m too soft.”

“We already know it,” one of the men in the back called. That was the one Thrash called Nyx. He laughed, before returning to his game of pool.

Mick blushed even harder. “See?”

She giggled, giddy as a girl, and gave him another kiss, this time on the forehead. “We’ll be back in a few hours. Tell that man of mine he can text me if he needs me.”

It was kind of amazing, really. Layla walked around like she owned the place. Hell, with Rage being the club President, she pretty much did own it.

She practically skipped back to me and pulled me out of the door. “Come on, we have to hurry if we are going to get out of here before Cullen calls me back. I was supposed to be working all day, and I cut out early.”

“Isn’t he in the garage?”

“No, he and the boys had something they needed to do.”

“Boys?”

She laughed. “Oh, Thrash and Aiden. They’re a triad these days. It’s just easier to call them the boys. That’s what I called them back in the day, before Sean…” She became quite and smiled ruefully at me.

So Thrash was off doing club business. I wondered what that entailed.

My brows furrowed. Not knowing where he was made me concerned. We had only been on a few dates, but I worried about him. Thinking of my life without him made my chest too tight and my hands ache.

I worried about this club, too. There were undercurrents of trouble I was only just starting to pick up on, and it didn’t bode well.

I let her pull me along and wondered absently what she would do if anything bad happened to her man.

“My car or my truck?” she asked, still excited by her escape. “I had to put them both in this week for service, but now we get the pick of the two.”

I grinned. I could differentiate between a warehouse full of artists’ supplies; I could even describe, in detail, the differences in the paints used on various vehicles; but I couldn’t tell one model from the next. That just wasn’t my thing.

What I could tell was that Layla had the pick of two very beautiful vehicles, both painted a rich, metallic blue the color of a desert night.

The truck had the word “Beast” scrawled along the back of it in bronze letters. It was tasteless and wonderful. I loved it for its brashness, and pointed to it the way a shy five year old would ask for a teddy bear at the fair.

“Truck,” I said, breathlessly.

Aching feet or not, Layla nearly bounced. “Good call!” she exclaimed. “It’s a fun little number anyway. You ready for a ride?”

I grinned and followed her. I couldn’t believe I was actually going to get to ride in a truck with “Beast” emblazoned on the back of it, but I was absolutely thrilled about it.

14

“Now what did you need to see us about?”

Rage slammed the door after he entered my apartment. Wrath was already leaning against the counter. Neither one of them looked pleased.

“I have a shitload of work to do today, man. And so do you.”

“This is important.” I sat down in my chair and let them have the couch.

The place was pretty bare, except for the art. I didn’t like investing in stuff, but the artwork was different. While the furniture was Spartan, and the windows were covered only with blinds, the walls were painted a lively burnt orange and covered in paintings I had slowly bought over the years. It had started years ago as a private joke. I’d had a little money to spend and a girl I’d been seeing at the time had said I had no soul.

‘Your place is empty. It’s like you’re empty. It’s creepy.’

She had been gone the next morning, but I’d taken what she said to heart. I had soul. I just wasn’t sure how to share it.

When I’d spotted a gallery down after that, though, I’d felt the old stirring in me, the one I’d denied for years. I’d always been afraid one of the guys would see me. Sean and Rage would have teased me if I brought them in, so I went by myself. I’d seen a painting that had called to me and I bought it.

That had been my first painting. After that, I’d slowly found myself collecting them, one at a time, without any forethought. And then one day, the white walls had pissed me off. So I bought a few cans of some ugly orange that turned out to be not so ugly. In fact, it had been kind of unique. And I’d liked that. It had made the paintings stand out even more, so I’d see them, not the bland furniture, or the cheap carpet, or the dingy blinds.

And that had been all I needed.

I hadn’t brought a woman over since, though. I wasn’t even sure if I’d bring Nora over.

As for the MC… Wrath made a face and stayed where he was. Like the wall would reach over and bite him or something. Rage sat down without a second thought, too distracted by his own concerns to notice or care about my eccentric taste.

“I had
a little conversation with Bones, and I wanted to talk to you about it in person.” I cleared my throat. I might know where my loyalties were, but this wasn’t going to be easy.

“When?” Wrath asked, his eyes narrow. He wouldn’t know Bones if the man walked right past him. He had been brought into the club after shit went down with our old leader, but he had become an important part of it. Problems or not, I would trust Wrath with my life. Rage, too.

That was why I wanted to keep the conversation between us first before we brought it to church.

“Today. Munhall.” Wrath’s eyes widened. “Yeah – right in the middle of our turf.” I paused and waited for their reactions.

Better to let them get it out now and then tell the rest of the story. Including the part where Bones kept seeking me out. They needed to know it all. I wasn’t about to let them think I was even a little bit on his side, I wasn’t.

Besides, I was going to need their help if we were going to take Bones down. The bastard had just handed me a golden opportunity on a fucking silver platter.

“What was he up to?” Rage asked quietly. Too quietly. He knew something was up.

“Looking for me.”

“What did he want you for?” Rage asked, crossing his arms. He knew Bones as well as I did, hell, maybe even better. Still, neither one of us had seen his betrayal coming. We’d really believed our code: honor, loyalty, brotherhood. We hadn’t expected Bones to break that code.

We should’ve. Rage was just as guilty as I was, and I could see the anger in his eyes. He hated that he’d been hoodwinked. He hated that we’d all suffered for it. There was fire and pissed-off brimstone in that gaze, ready and eager to erupt.

Which wasn’t great for me. I was the bearer of bad news and worse.

“He wanted me to join up with him,” I waited for that to sink in for a second, then went on. “He’s left a couple messages on my phone over the past few months, too. I know I should’ve told you, but I didn’t know what he wanted, and… I didn’t want to know. I shut it out. I should have told you.”

I was talking to Rage, but Rage was silent. My chest clenched in pain. I’d hurt him. We had been friends for too long for that to not hurt me.

Thankfully there was someone else there to get beyond new wounds to old foundations.

“So what do you propose we do?” Wrath asked. He was smart. I glanced up at him and realized we were lucky to have him. Those eyes didn’t hide much: he knew I was well aware of my fuck up. He knew I had a plan now to make up for it. And he wanted in. No questions asked. Just trust.

Holy fuck, I was lucky Wrath was there.

His words shook Rage from his mulling. Got us back on topic.

“Thrash?” he asked mildly, as if nothing had happened.

“I think we should give him exactly what he wants.” I grinned grimly. “Me.”

Rage blinked.

I went on. “I join his ranks, learn what he’s up to, and tell you. We could organize an attack that we know will work the first time instead of fumbling around in the dark.”

Rage shook his head instantly. “No, it’s too dangerous. Once you get in there, how do you know he won’t just slit your throat? You won’t be able to just call us. You remember him. Paranoid as shit. He isn’t going to let you walk off.”

“We have to try something new,” I said flatly. “We wait. We trust the mob for intel. And Bones always gets away. He’s getting stronger. I know it. I remember. He always had a contingency plan. He wouldn’t reach out to me unless he was sure he could make it even if I stabbed him in the back.”

For the first time since Bones had betrayed us, Rage looked uneasy. “I don’t like it. Besides, you know you won’t be able to talk to me directly. How would you get any messages to me?”

“I haven’t figured that out yet,” I admitted. “I was hoping Wrath could help us figure out a solution to that.”

It was a display of trust I was hoping would pay off later. For instance if the subject of just how I had convinced Bones I was for real came up.

Jealous of the new guy. Fuck, that was an embarrassing excuse.

Wrath was worth his salt, though. “What about his girl?” he asked. “Most clubs don’t even look twice at the women who go in and out. I bet Bones’ new outfit is the same. Why not use her?”

“Does that shit work?” I asked, seriously wondering.

He shrugged. “It was a common tactic in Afghanistan. You would not believe the number of women who smuggled letters and arms to insurgents and got away with it because no one bothered to touch or check them.”

It was a damn good idea, but it was dangerous as fuck.

“Who’s his woman? Do we know?”

“Not his woman. Yours.”

He might as well have punched me in the diaphragm. “What?”

“What’s her name? Nora? Emma says the woman’s tougher than she looks.”

He’d struck too close to home. “Does Emma have anything else to say? Will we be together
forever
, and make beautiful
babies
, and be a big, happy
family
?” I snarled sarcastically.

“Watch it,” Rage growled.

I shut my mouth immediately, but fuck if I was going to risk Nora. My own neck, sure. But she still didn’t have any clue what she was getting into. She might say yes, sure. That was what I was worried about. She was quiet and beautiful and shy. Bones’ boys would either ignore her – or they wouldn’t. Something told me I was going to be breaking a lot of faces if I brought her into this.

“The artist
?” Rage asked. Damn, he really had been distracted if he had missed that I was seeing the woman who was painting our mural.

I just nodded.

“You trust her enough to do that? You’d put her on the line?” Rage eyed me, as if he was seeing me for the first time.

I thought about it.

“I can ask her.”

“Can she handle it?” he pressed.

I hesitated and really thought about it. “Probably. If she says yes, yeah. Yeah, she could.” I actually believed it, too, but only if she agreed.

Cullen paused for a moment, considered it, and then he nodded. “If you are sure this is what you want, then I’ll allow it, but only if we can get Nora on board, you understand?”

Damn right, I understood. I was pretty sure we were crazy, and I was still saying yes. It was our best shot. Or the end of me. The end of Nora, too. Hopefully she was lucky.

I fought the urge to break something as I thought what could happen to her if Bones caught me as a rat. It wouldn’t matter if they knew she was in on it or not. They’d make her pay.

I knew then I’d have to tell her the risks. She deserved to know what I was asking.

I was afraid she would take one look at me and walk off. But I half hoped she would. She’d be safer that way.

Fuck. What was I agreeing to?