Chapter 11 Ice
The neon sign above Velvet buzzes behind me, throwing a lurid glow over the deserted parking lot. I’m leaning against my bike when Isabella’s ringtone cuts through the sound of mating frogs croaking in the night. I snatch my phone from my pocket and glance at the screen. Isabella’s name flashes across it.
“Talk to me, Bella,” I say as soon as I hit answer, the concern in my voice belying the calm I’m trying to project.
“Someone’s following me. A black SUV, it’s been tailing me for the last few blocks.” Her voice is tight with panic. “I’m pretty sure it’s one of my brother’s men.”
“Where are you right now?”
“Corner of Dauphine and Conti,” she spits out quickly.
I know exactly where she is, but I won’t be able to get to her for at least ten minutes.
“Head to Jackson Square, now. There’ll be people around,” I instruct, jumping on my bike. The engine roars to life, echoing my racing heart. The Bluetooth in my helmet clicks on, keeping us connected. “Stay on the line until I reach you.”
“Okay.”
I gun the throttle and peel out into the street. My mind races faster than my bike, calculating my next move, searching for safe havens. We can’t go to Vapor’s place. Keeping his wife and unborn child safe is of the utmost importance, so that’s out. NOLA Inn, our temporary stronghold, sits smack in the French Quarter’s pulsating heart. It’s an option, but only as a last resort. I can’t risk leading danger to our doorstep, not after what went down with the last clubhouse. However, if that’s the only place available, we’ll have to go there. At least we’ll have the numbers to defend ourselves. Most of the club’s guys are staying there, so it’s a solid backup option.
“Still with me, Bella?” I ask, weaving through the late-night traffic.
“Y-Yes. I’m turning onto Decatur now,” she stammers.
“Good girl. Keep heading to the square.”
As I near Jackson Square, the historic buildings loom like silent sentinels around me. I ask for another update, needing to pinpoint her exact location.
“Decatur and Wilkinson.” The tension in her voice stokes my anger. No one should be scaring her like this. It’s bullshit.
“I’m one block away. Listen closely, when you get to Dumaine, turn left. Then turn right on Chartres, then another right on St. Philip to get back to Decatur,” I command, spotting her car.
A black SUV, sinister and determined, is tailing her dangerously close. This guy can’t be a pro. Someone who knew what they were doing won’t be on her bumper. Even so, he’s a problem. I’m going to have to distract him.
“Isabella, listen to me. I’m about to make a move to shake this guy. Once you turn onto Decatur, I want you to head straight to NOLA Inn. Do you know where that’s at?”
“Yes. I’ve driven past it a bunch of times.”
“Wait for me there. And don’t leave,” I quickly add.
“Be careful, Ice,” she pleads.
“Always am,” I reply.
My chest tightens as I swerve, putting myself between the predator and its prey. My world narrows to the road, the chase, and the mission, protecting Isabella at all costs.
The black SUV looms in my mirror, an unwelcome shadow trailing me through the night. With a quick glance, I catch Isabella’s car slipping around the corner, out of sight. Now it’s just me and the hunter.
“Get the fuck out of my way!” The driver yells loud enough that I can hear his muffled words through my helmet. A flicker of movement in my mirrors—then I see it. The guy has a gun, waving it out the window like a warning.
I don’t flinch. My hand moves instinctively to my cut. Cold metal greets my palm. I pull it out and aim steadily at the tinted window of the SUV. This isn’t the first time I’ve been in a standoff. I don’t like having a gun aimed at me, but I’d rather it be me than Isabella.
The SUV driver guns his engine like he’s going to run me over. I don’t move. He can’t scare me. I’ve dealt with way worse shit in the past. He’s more of an annoyance than anything. There’s no way he’s going to shoot me with all these people around. It may be late at night, but there are plenty of drunk revelers wandering the streets. Some have stopped to watch the show.
A shot rings out, shattering the humid air. It zips past, close enough to feel the whisper of death against my skin.
“Well, fuck. Guess he’s not worried about an audience,” I mutter.
Adrenaline surges, sharp as the scent of gunpowder. I return fire, a single shot, before twisting the throttle hard. My bike leaps forward like a hellhound unleashed, and I’m racing away from the specter of the SUV.
The chase is on. I weave through the streets of New Orleans, a city both beautiful and treacherous. Jazz notes spill into the night, but there’s no romance in this ride—only the cold kiss of danger nipping at my heels.
Another shot, another miss. He’s a lousy shot, but his intent is clear. I can’t let him get a clean shot. Not tonight. Not ever.
“Shit!” I curse as I take a turn too sharply, the bike nearly kissing the pavement. The alley ahead yawns open, my escape route. But it’s narrow, lined with the refuse of the day. A man in an apron emerges from a back door, oblivious to the chaos until I’m nearly on top of him. He leaps back, cursing me out as I thunder past.
“Sorry, pal!” I shout over the roar of my engine, not sure he even hears me. I hit the gas, leaving nothing behind but a cloud of exhaust and a string of expletives.
The SUV’s headlights flicker, growing distant. I can almost taste freedom when a car appears out of nowhere, cutting him off.
Thank you, random stranger. You’ll never know it, but you saved my ass tonight.
My heart hammers against my ribs, but I don’t slow down. Not until I’m certain I’ve lost him. Only then do I allow myself a deep breath, the night air cooling the sweat on my brow. I need to get back to Isabella to make sure she’s safe.
The growl of my bike’s engine becomes a low purr as I pull into the NOLA Inn’s parking lot. My gaze flicks to the rearview mirror one last time to make sure no one’s behind me. The road’s empty. I lost the black SUV ten minutes ago, but the relief hasn’t sunk in yet. I won’t be able to relax until I see that Isabella’s safe.
As I park my bike beside several others, I spot Isabella standing safe and unharmed in the courtyard near the pool. Several men with UVMC patches are by her side.
“Isabella!” I call out, killing the engine and swinging my leg off the bike in one fluid motion. My boots hit the pavement hard as I stride toward her. She’s standing next to Fang, who’s doing his best to appear nonchalant, but the concern is clear in those green eyes behind his thick-rimmed glasses.
“Are you okay?” I ask, scanning her from head to toe for any sign of harm. She nods, her blue eyes bright with unshed tears, her slender frame tense like a bowstring.
“I’m fine,” she assures me, her voice steady, but there’s a tremor in her hands that belies her calm facade.
Fang shoots me a look that tells me we’re not out of the woods yet. His jaw is set, and even without words, I know he’s got questions that won’t wait. “You’ve got some explaining to do, Ice.”
“Isabella was being chased. What was I supposed to do, let them take her?” I shoot back, feeling defensive despite knowing Fang isn’t the enemy here.
He crosses his arms, the muscles beneath his geeky tee straining against the fabric. “Vapor’s on his way. I called him while you were playing cat and mouse out there.”
“Great,” I mutter. The last thing I need is Vapor breathing down my neck before I’ve had a chance to check on my girl. But if anyone understands the stakes, it’s him. “Before he gets here, I need to talk to Isabella. Alone.”
Fang nods once, tight-lipped, and steps away, giving us space. Isabella’s gaze locks with mine, seeking reassurance in this storm we’ve found ourselves in. The air around us feels charged, heavy with the weight of what’s at stake. Since Isabella said she recognized the guy as one of her brother’s men, there’s no doubt in my mind that Juan was behind this. He’s going to be pissed when he finds out we helped her.
“Let’s step inside for a minute,” I tell her, motioning toward my room.
I need to see her safe within the four walls I’ve been calling home. I have to be sure she’s not about to vanish into the night like a ghost, taking part of my soul with her. Because despite all the danger and all the chaos this relationship could bring, I can’t get Isabella off my mind. And I’ll be damned if I let the cartel—or anyone—tear her away from me.
I usher Isabella through the door of my temporary refuge. Her eyes scan the interior, taking in the exposed brick walls and the sprawling bed that anchors the space. I wonder what she makes of it all, this spartan sanctuary stripped of any personal touch.
“Is this where you’ve been since…” She trails off, but the meaning hangs clear between us—since her brother wreaked havoc on our world.
“Yep. Most of the club’s here,” I respond, locking the door behind us for good measure. “It’s crucial you don’t let anyone know about this place.”
She nods, understanding etching into her delicate features. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d be right in the middle of town.”
A grin tugs at my lips despite the gravity of our situation. “Juan’s got eyes everywhere, but sometimes the best hiding spot is right under your enemy’s nose. The French Quarter’s full of tourists. It’s the last place he’d think to look.”
“Smart.”
“Sometimes.” I grin for a second before turning serious once more.
Isabella moves to the chair by the desk as if magnetized by the need to sit, to ground herself after tonight’s chaos. I perch on the edge of the bed, hands braced on my knees, keeping the distance between us respectful. It’s hard, though, not to close that gap, not to reach out and reassure both her and myself that we’ve got a handle on things.
“Juan came by the warehouse earlier,” she starts. “He knows where they’re holding the kids that were separated from their mothers. They’re working in a warehouse, somewhere in New Orleans. But he didn’t give me an exact location.”
“Those kids…” My gut clenches at the thought of them, trapped and afraid. “If we manage to bring them back to their mothers, none of them can stay in the city. They’ll be marked.”
“They’d have to run and—”
“Disappear,” I finish, nodding.
“Can you help make that happen?” she asks softly.
“Yeah, we can do that. We’ll get them out of Juan’s grasp and take them away from all this madness.”
“Those families belong together.”
“Absolutely.” I agree.
The low hum of the AC in the corner is the only sound breaking the charged silence between us. I lean forward, elbows on knees, and lock eyes with Isabella. Considering what she’s been through today, she’s holding up well. She’s so strong, which is sexy as hell.
“Once they’re safe, how will you make sure he never gets a hold of them again?” she asks, bringing my attention back to what’s important right now.
“We’ve got a network, like an underground railroad. It runs through all of the chapters of Underground Vengeance MC, across the country.”
“Are they like safe houses?”
“More than that,” I say. “We have a whole system dedicated to helping people like those women and kids vanish. They get new identities. New lives.”
“Like witness protection.”
“Exactly.”
She bites her lower lip, contemplating the magnitude of what I’m offering. “I need to get Juan to tell me where that warehouse is. Then we can—”
“No way,” I cut her off. “You can’t go back to work or home. Juan’s already suspicious. He sent a tail after you, and that SUV driver will rat you out. Juan will know someone from UVMC interfered, and it won’t take long for Juan to put two and two together. He’ll realize the increased security at the new clubhouse site only happened after he told you his plan. It won’t take him long to realize that you probably warned us. Once he figures out that you’re working with the MC, he’ll be furious.”
Her body tenses, and the blue of her eyes darkens like a gathering storm. “He’s going to kill me.”
“I’m sure he’ll try, but you’re not dying. I won’t let that happen.”
“What am I going to do?” she murmurs.
“Listen,” I say, reaching out to grasp her hands in mine. “Your life’s on the line now. Because of tonight.”
“I know, but I’m not ready to run. I don’t have enough money… I can’t just—”
“Money isn’t an issue. I’ll give you what you need. But we need your help first.”
“My help?” She cocks her head to one side.
“Isabella, you know far more about your brother than we do. We’re going to bring the cartel down, but we can’t do it without you.”
“Are you sure you need me?”
“I do.” In more ways than one, I silently add.
“If I can help you, I will. But I need something too. Those women and their children, I’m not leaving them behind. Not until they’re safe.”
“Neither will I. We won’t stop until we’ve rescued every single one of them,” I promise.
“Oh, Ice.” The warmth of Isabella’s body crashes into mine as she wraps her arms around me. Her warm embrace soothes the tension in my shoulders. “I can’t thank you enough,” she whispers against my chest, her voice muffled by my leather cut. “If I hadn’t met you at Velvet…”
I rest my hand on the back of her head, feeling the silken strands of her hair slide through my fingers.
“When you showed up on amateur night, we weren’t sure why you were there or what you were up to, but I’m glad you walked into our club.” The memory of seeing her dance for the first time sends heat rushing to my core. I ignore the pulse of desire and focus on what I’m trying to tell her. “Now that I know you a little better, I know you’re fighting for what’s right.”
“And I always will,” she whispers.
I pull back just enough to see her face, to look into those piercing blue eyes. “You’re nothing like your brother, Isabella. Not at all.”
She shakes her head, her eyes darkening with the shadows of a life she’s desperate to leave behind. “I hate what he’s doing to those people… to those kids. I want to stop him. I have to stop him.”
There’s fire there, in her words, in her soul—a flame that Juan and his cartel could never snuff out. And it’s that same fire that draws me to her, like a moth to a blazing inferno.
“Since you’ve got nowhere else to go, you’re staying here. With me.”
“Are you sure?” she asks.
“Absolutely.”
As I lean in for a kiss, her breath hitches. Our lips crash together, hungry and fierce. It’s a kiss that speaks of promises and protection, a silent vow that I’ll keep her safe from the hellfire licking at our heels. And more than that, after this kiss, she’ll realize that as long as we’re together, there will always be passion between us. I’m sure she already knows this, but just in case, I kiss her until she melts into my lap.
A knock at the door, sharp and insistent, breaks us apart. A growl rumbles in my throat as I pull away. I stride over to the door, swearing under my breath before yanking it open to reveal Fang’s muscle-bound frame.
“Vapor’s here,” Fang says, urgency cutting through his usually calm demeanor. “Church. Now.”
“Give me a minute,” I reply, not missing the way his gaze shifts past me, landing on Isabella where she sits on the bed, still catching her breath. Fang nods, but his silence speaks volumes. He’s worried, and hell, I am too.
“Make it quick, Ice,” he adds before leaving, giving me a moment to compose myself before I face Vapor and the others.
I close the door and return to where she’s sitting. “I’ve got to handle some club business. I’ll be back soon.”
“Can I come with you?” Her voice is hopeful.
“No,” I say, with more force than I intend. “Women don’t take part in club business.”
“I don’t want to be alone,” she whispers, her eyes searching mine for some kind of sanctuary.
“You won’t be. I’ll have a couple of prospects keep watch outside.” The idea of leaving her, even momentarily, gnaws at me, but I can’t let it show.
“How long will you be gone?” The fear in her question is palpable.
“Not long,” I promise, lowering my lips to hers to give her a reassuring kiss. “Sit tight.”
Stepping into the courtyard, the humid night folds around me. My boots echo against the cobblestones as I approach two prospects by the pool, their silhouettes bathed in the soft glow of underwater lights.
“Listen up,” I command, locking eyes with each of them. “Guard my door. No one gets in or out except for me. And make damn sure the woman inside doesn’t leave.”
“Got it, Ice,” they respond in unison.
I linger a moment longer, ensuring the gravity of my order sinks in. There’s no room for error—not with Isabella’s life at stake. I can’t protect her if I don’t know where she’s at. With a final nod, I turn away and head for the room where we hold Church when we’re not at Vapor’s place.
I push open the door to the dimly lit room where my brothers are gathered. Their faces, etched with concern and suspicion, turn toward me as if I’m the harbinger of a storm about to break. Vapor, looming over the group, arms crossed like a fortress wall.
“Church is in session,” he barks.
“Brothers,” I start, shifting my weight from one leg to the other. “We’ve got a problem.”
“Damn right we do, Ice,” Fang says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his forefinger.
“Spill it,” Diablo growls from the corner, his stance menacing. He’s coiled energy, ready to pounce at any sign of betrayal.
“Isabella Vasquez is in trouble,” I confess, cutting straight to the chase. “Her brother knows she’s with us.”
“Because of you?” Bones asks, the usual joviality drained from his voice. He’s not cracking a smile, not now, not when the club’s safety is on the line.
“When she left work at one of the cartels’ warehouses, Juan sent a tail after her. I got rid of the guy.”
“Got rid of him how?” Diablo asks.
“Just lost him in the streets. Didn’t kill him.”
“Bummer.” Diablo sniffs.
“There’s more,” I say. “She’s got intel on some kids who were trafficked.”
“Fuck,” Bones grumbles. “Sex shit?”
“No. Thank God. They’re working in one of the textile factories.”
“Where?” Fang asks.
“Don’t know yet. But she wants to get the kids out and reunite them with their mothers.”
“We can put them in the system,” Diablo says, referring to the underground railroad.
“Exactly. Also, Isabella wants out too. She’s going to help us end this shit.”
“How?” Tank asks, finally speaking up.
“Not sure yet. She must know something that we can use to end Juan’s reign of terror. I just don’t know what yet,” I admit.
“Sounds risky,” Tank muses, his bulk shifting as he leans back against the wall. His skepticism is a tangible thing, a barrier I need to tear down.
“Everything we do is risky,” I shoot back, feeling the heat rise in my veins. “This is our shot to dismantle Juan’s empire in NOLA. She’s going to give us whatever we need, but in exchange, she needs our protection.”
Vapor hasn’t said a word yet. He just watches me, calculating. I can almost hear the cogs turning in his head, weighing every angle. The silence stretches, punctuated only by the distant thrum of jazz and the occasional laugh from Bourbon Street outside.
“Protecting one woman puts us all in the crosshairs,” Vapor finally speaks. “Convince me why she’s worth it, Ice.”
“Because she’s fighting for the same thing we are. Justice. That’s something we all believe in.”
“Except Juan,” Tank points out.
“Right. And if the cartel’s after her, it means she’s doing something right.”
“True.” Diablo nods.
“What’s the deal with you and her?” Fang asks, already knowing the answer, but apparently trying to get it all out in the open.
“You claimin’ her?” Diablo asks.
I glance around the room, taking in the gravity of their expressions. If I don’t claim her, I’m not entirely sure the club will back her. The only way to make sure is to make shit official, which feels wrong since I still don’t know her that well. That said, it’s my only option.
“Yeah, I’m claimin’ her.” I puff my chest, challenging any man to speak out against her. Nobody says a word.
“Alright,” Vapor decides, his nod slow but deliberate. “We’ll hear her out. But Ice, if this goes south, it’s on you.”
“Understood,” I say, understanding the ramifications. They’ll listen to me, for now. But trust is a currency that’s hard-earned and easily spent in our world. If I fuck this up, I’ll be on Vapor’s shit list for a long time. That’s one place I don’t want to be.
“Let’s get down to business then,” Fang interjects, tapping on his tablet, already slipping into his role as the tech wizard who keeps us one step ahead of the game. “What might she know that could help us?”
As everyone chimes in with ideas, my gaze slides toward the door. I’m itching to get the fuck out of here and get back to Isabella. I need this meeting to end—now.
“You got all that, Ice?” Fang asks. When I blink at him, he smirks. “I emailed the notes. Try to read them when you’re done boning her.”
Tank snickers until Vapor shoots him a look. Bones rolls his eyes, while Diablo snorts.
“I’ll talk to her. See what she can tell me. Let’s meet up again tomorrow.”
“Done.” Vapor pounds his fist on the desk, ending the meeting.
“Thanks, brothers,” I murmur my gratitude.
This meeting went better than expected. With the weight of the club behind us, Isabella and I have a fighting chance of not only saving those women and kids, but of saving her too. I can’t wait to get back to our room so I can tell her the good news.