Chapter 9 Ice
The damp Louisiana air clings to my skin as I stand in the poorly lit parking lot of Voodoo Velvet. The neon sign buzzes overhead, casting a lurid glow on the asphalt. I stand like a statue among shadows, waiting as every second stretches into a lifetime. Tank and Vicki should’ve been here by now, and Isabella… her safety weighs heavy on my mind. My guts tighten in anticipation, the kind of tension that comes before a storm or a fight.
Headlights cut a path through the darkness. I immediately recognize Isabella’s car because I’ve secretly watched her walk to it after she got off work. Some of the pressure in my belly dissipates. She parks in the shadows near my bike. I circle around to open her door. Maybe it’s old-fashioned, but I don’t care.
Isabella looks up at me and an entirely different kind of tension constricts my groin. I can’t focus on anything but the curve of her soft lips and the memory of how good they felt against my mouth. I want to kiss her again, but the fear in her eyes stops me.
I hold out a hand, hoping she will take it. I’m elated when she does. The way she moves is cautious, like she’s worried about every move she makes, but there’s no threat here. I’ve already scanned the area. Twice.
“Isabella,” I murmur, helping her from the car.
“Ice,” she whispers.
When she stands and wraps her arms around my torso, it’s impossible to ignore the stirring in my blood. She ignites a primal reaction, but I shove it down and lock it away. What I want isn’t what I need right now. Based on what Tank told me, she’s got information about something her brother’s planning. Whatever it is, it can’t be good.
Her eyes find mine, and there’s a moment, just a flicker, where I see something raw and unguarded before a mask of concern falls into place.
“Ice,” she says, her voice steady, “I’m so glad you came. Juan’s planning something. It’s about your clubhouse.”
“Before we get into that, tell me, are you okay?” I ask, stepping forward, ready to shield her from whatever hell is nipping at her heels.
“I’m fine,” she says softly. “But I’m worried about you.”
The rumble of a motorcycle cuts through the silence. I turn to see Tank’s big frame maneuvering into the lot. Vicki’s riding bitch behind him, clutching his waist. The pair slides off the bike with a practiced ease that speaks of countless rides together. They’re here, so it’s time for Isabella to tell us what the hell’s going on.
“She said Juan was planning something,” Tank says as he slides his hand into Vicki’s. “Did she tell you anything yet?”
“No. Just got here.” I turn to Isabella, wanting to take her hand in mine, but knowing better than to do it. I don’t want to convey our relationship to Tank and Vicki yet. Hell, I’m not even sure if what happened in the VIP room constitutes the start of one. Maybe it was just sex for her. She could have gotten just as carried away as I did. But I hope she doesn’t regret it, because I don’t.
Isabella looks between Tank and me, her blue eyes dark pools in the neon-lit night. Vicki gives her an encouraging smile, making me thankful I relented and let Tank talk me into letting her come.
“Go on, chica ,” Vicki prompts.
“Juan’s planning to torch the clubhouse,” Isabella says, her face falling. “In three days, your clubhouse will be ashes.”
The words hit me like a two-by-four to the gut. My pulse kicks up a notch, adrenaline flooding my system even as my brain kicks into overdrive. The threat is real, imminent. Juan’s not fucking around. Apparently, blowing up the first clubhouse wasn’t enough for him. Now he wants to do it again.
“Tank,” I bark out without taking my eyes off Isabella, “text Vapor. We need an emergency Church meeting, tonight.” The urgency in my voice leaves no room for questions.
“On it,” Tank says, his expression grim. He pulls out his phone, fingers working swiftly over the screen. Vicki stands close to him, her presence a silent show of solidarity. He looks up from his phone. “Vapor’s setting it up. Says to head to his place ASAP.”
“Good,” I reply, my mind already strategizing, mapping out potential defenses. If Juan thinks he can fuck with us for the second time, he’s in for a rude awakening. I’m not going to let him get away with it. Not on my watch. This is war, and I’ll be damned if we don’t come out swinging.
“Hang on, he’s calling me. Yeah, I’m here. No, she can’t…” Tank walks away from us toward the bayou. His shadow stretches out on the cracked asphalt as he turns his back, phone pressed to his ear.
Vicki glances at me, her green eyes flickering with concern before she follows him. When she reaches his side, her hand brushes against his back, a silent vow of support. I can’t hear what Vapor’s saying to Tank, but it’s something they don’t want Isabella to hear. I wonder if they still think she’s the enemy or that this is some kind of trap.
“Is there any reason why I shouldn’t trust that what you’re telling me is true?” I ask her.
“Why would I lie?” She wraps her arms around her body and rubs one of her shoulders. Her eyes keep darting around, like she expects someone to come bounding out of the bushes at any moment.
“Are you okay,” I ask, my voice low so the others won’t hear me.
“I think so,” she whispers.
The neon sign of Voodoo casts an otherworldly hue on her face, sharpening the edges of worry that crease her brow. Her slender form is poised for flight, but it’s the haunted look in her blue eyes that tightens my chest. The usual brazen confidence in her eyes is gone. For the first time since I met her, she looks vulnerable, and all I want to do is protect her.
“I’ll be okay. Besides, this isn’t about me anyway,” she adds, her gaze fixed somewhere beyond the parking lot, to a far-off place filled with shadows and threats.
“Damn straight it’s about you,” I counter, stepping closer. The air between us is charged, crackling with more than the sticky heat of the New Orleans night. “If Juan finds out you came to us, he’s not just coming for the club—he’s coming for you too.”
Her eyes lock onto mine, and a flicker of fear dances in their depths. She shakes her head slightly, as if trying to deny the truth of her predicament.
“I can handle it,” she insists, but there’s a tremor in her voice that belies her bravado.
I shake my head, frustration knotting my insides. “Not alone, you can’t. Where do you live?”
“On the family compound.”
“Fuck! You can’t go back there.”
“I have to. If I don’t, he’ll know I ratted him out.”
“He might find out anyway. Going back there isn’t safe. Stay with me.” The words are out before I can stop them, fueled by something primal within me that demands I protect her.
“Staying with you wouldn’t do anything other than paint an even bigger target on your back,” she says sharply. “What do you think he’d do if he found out I was staying with someone from Underground Vengeance?”
“He’d probably come at us even harder than before.”
“Exactly.”
“I don’t give a fuck. Let him come,” I growl, the thought of her being anywhere but under my watch sparking a fury deep in my gut. “I’ve got enough bullets for him and his entire crew. I owe them anyway. He blew up our other clubhouse.”
“I know. He told me. Why does he have a vendetta against you?”
“Because we’re trying to stop him from running his business. He enslaves people under the guise of helping them, then pimps them out in his brothels. The drug problem in NOLA has gotten ten times worse since he took over as the local cartel leader. We’re sick of his shit. We’ve already managed to stop some of the trafficking, but that put a huge target on us. He wants us all dead. Alligator chow. And he’s not going to stop until either we’re six-feet-under, or he is.”
Isabella’s lips part, but no sound comes out.
“Please, Bella,” I push, softer this time. “Stay with me. Let me help you the same way you’re helping us.”
She studies me intently. I need her to trust that I’ll keep her safe, that together we can face her brother and win. Whatever she’s looking for in my face, she doesn’t seem to see it.
“I can’t. I need to go back, or he’ll know what I did. He’ll change his plans and then you won’t have any warning. Right now, you have a chance to stop him. If he realizes I’ve been talking to you…”
“You can’t take that risk. It isn’t safe, Isabella.”
She shakes her head. “You don’t get it. Juan’s got eyes like hawks and ears like wolves. If I don’t go back, he’ll know something’s up. I’m going back, so please just stop trying to talk me into staying with you. It’s not going to happen.”
“Fine.” I can tell she’s not going to change her mind, and she does make a good point. If she keeps to her usual routine, then Juan won’t suspect that he’s lost her loyalty. That could work in our favor, but I still don’t like it.
“I need to go.” She turns to leave, but I grab her upper arm.
“Wait!” I turn her so we’re face to face. “Tell me one thing before you go.”
“One thing.” A ghost of a smile passes across her lips before it fades into the shadows.
“Why are you dancing at Velvet?”
“It’s my ticket out of hell. Every dollar gets me one step closer to freedom.”
“You want to escape.”
“ Si .” Her lips quirk slightly, but there’s no humor in it. “I want the chains tying me to Los Serpientes de Cristal, to Juan, to all of it, broken, once and for all.”
It hits me. The pain she must be enduring. She’s nothing like her brother. There’s no evil in her soul. She just wants to be emancipated from her family and their numerous crimes. I get it now. For the first time since we met, I finally understand what’s driving her.
“Let me help you get away from them. If all you need is money—”
She shakes her head, a mess of dark curls swaying with the motion. “I have to do this on my own, Ice.” Her words are firm, yet there’s a tremor beneath them that tells me she’s not as sure as she claims. “I don’t want to owe anyone. When I leave, I’m never looking back, and I don’t want regrets trailing me.”
“Regrets?” I mutter, narrowing my eyes. “Do you regret earlier?”
“You mean…” A flush darkens her caramel cheeks. “No. I could never regret something so…”
“So?” I ask, trying to coax a response. I’m dying to know what she thought about the passionate sex we shared in the VIP room.
“I can’t come back,” she says, attempting to change the subject. I let it go, deciding instead to see where she’s going to take this.
“Why not?”
“I’ve been working at one of the warehouses. The packaging plant.”
“Where they cut the drugs?” I ask, perking back up. This is the first time we’ve talked to anyone about what happens in their warehouses. We don’t even know all of their locations.
“Yes. They have women working there. Basically like slaves because they owe.”
“What do you mean?”
“They’re illegal. The cartel got them into the country, but now the women have to pay the cartel back. Ten grand each.”
I whistle at the sum.
“It’s not fair. They can’t even see their children.”
“What children?” I demand.
“The women came with their kids, but they haven’t seen them in months. Some haven’t in years.”
“What the hell?”
“That’s what I said. I tried asking Juan about it, but he told me not to worry about it. Worrying is all I do anymore.”
“We need to find those kids and free those women.”
“You’d do that?” she asks, wonder in her voice.
“Absolutely. You don’t know anything about us, do you?” I ask.
“Not really.”
“We may look just as bad as the cartel, but I assure you, we’re not. We rescue people from the cartel and get them to safety.” I’m tempted to tell her about our underground railroad system but decide to hold back that information for now.
“Can you help them?” she asks. “Please!”
“We will do whatever we can, but we need to deal with one thing at a time.”
“The clubhouse first.”
“Then the women and their kids.”
“Oh, Ice.” She throws her arms around my neck and presses every curve of her luscious body against me.
I’m close enough to feel her breath mingle with mine. The scent of her, jasmine and something uniquely Bella, fills my senses. It’s impulsive, but hell, if life doesn’t teach you to seize these moments, what does?
“Bella,” I murmur, my hand finding its way to the curve of her jaw, guiding her face toward mine.
Time slows. The pulse of New Orleans fades into the background as my lips meet hers. The kiss is a spark in the darkness, a fleeting reprieve from the chaos of our lives. It speaks to the raw need we both share to feel alive even when death lurks around every corner.
We barely know each other, but I already want to learn everything about her. As I glide my tongue across hers, I hope one day I can get her to spill all her secrets. Not just the ones she knows about her family’s enterprise, but the ones she keeps private. Her hopes and dreams and desires. All her hidden mysteries.
The taste of her is both a blessing and a curse—I can’t get enough. Her lips are sweeter than praline and her soft moans of pleasure are more musical than the most intricate jazz melody. She’s perfection and all I want is more.
When she finally pulls back to take a breath, I sigh. The humid night air, stifling and unforgiving, rushes into the space between us. She steps back and gives me a soft smile.
“Stay safe,” she whispers.
“Wait! Give me your number. Even if you can’t dance at Velvet for a few days, I need to be able to contact you. I must know you’re safe.”
After we exchange numbers, I give her another kiss before letting her leave. I completely forgot Tank and Vicki were there. Now they’re gaping at me like I’ve grown two heads.
“What?” I demand.
“You fucked her, didn’t you?” Vicki asks, grinning.
“Go to the hotel, baby,” Tank says, saving me from responding. He slaps her ass. “Don’t drop the bike.”
“You’re letting her take your bike home?” My jaw drops.
“Yeah. Hope you don’t mind me riding bitch over to Vapor’s. Figure we’d save time if she takes my bike.”
“As long as you don’t grind your dick into my ass.” I smirk.
“You know you love it.”
“Fucker.” I slap Tank on the back.
“Bye baby,” Vicki calls before roaring off into the night.
“Damn, she can ride, hmm?” I scratch my chin.
“That’s not all she can ride.” Tank chuckles, then gets serious. “Vapor’s waiting.”
“Yeah.” I consider asking him not to tell Vapor about me and Isabella, but it’s bound to come out. I’m going to have to face the firing squad on that one. Fang’s going to be less pissed off since he already knows, but I’ve got a feeing the others will give me a lot of shit.
“Let’s ride,” I say, mounting my bike, the familiar leather of the seat grounding me. Tank follows suit, sitting behind me, mercifully not stabbing me in the ass. I kick the engine to life, and it answers with a roar, shattering the quiet of the lot outside Voodoo.
As we tear away from the strip club, the night blurs past us. But beneath the growl of my bike, a quiet fear builds in my chest. Isabella’s walking right back into the lion’s den. I just hope it’s not a huge mistake.
I pull up to Vapor’s house and slide my bike into the row out front before killing the engine. The porch light casts long shadows across the lawn, a morbid welcome mat for the war counsel we’re about to hold.
“Everyone’s already here,” Tank mutters, his voice low and edged with steel. He knows what’s coming, and I don’t think he’s happy about it. When the bomb went off at the old clubhouse, he lost some friends. We all did. It’s time we get some payback.
“Let’s go.” I swing my leg over the bike, and Tank follows suit.
Walking toward the house, we reflexively clench our fists. Unified against a common enemy, we’re ready to go into battle as brothers. Juan may be the devil in disguise, but we’re the demons here to drag him back to hell where he belongs.