Chapter Eight
Jade waited with War in the dark shadows of the broken outskirts of Cheyenne.
They waited for the dealer War had bought the Red Dust from.
His mind kept slipping back to the afternoon ride with Shiloh.
He glanced down at his phone for the fiftieth time, checking to see if he missed a message from her.
“Stop,” War muttered.
“What?” Jade asked, trying to sound innocent even as he slid his phone back into his pocket.
“Every time you turn that thing on, it lights up. It’s a beacon right to us.”
“I thought we wanted the drug dealer to find us,” Jade remarked dryly.
“You think he’s gonna come around if he sees it’s the Sons?”
Jade shrugged but didn’t say anything because he knew War was right. They were hoping he’d lead them to where the Red Dust was coming from. Still, he had the urge to check to see if Shiloh was okay at The Inkpot.
“You’re that pussy whipped?”
Jade glared at him. “Horrible choice of words, asshole.”
War raised an eyebrow but didn’t apologize.
Not that Jade expected one. Warden Marks was a big, cold bear of a man who didn’t hold one ounce of softness in his overly-muscled body.
He was devoted to the Sons, even more so since Cas had been his enforcer partner and the other man had betrayed the club.
Cas had fooled them all, but War felt a deeper responsibility for not seeing what was in all their faces. One bad seed could ruin a crop.
“Heads up,” War suddenly said, his intense gaze focusing on their target. “That’s him.”
Jade held up two fingers, knowing Sinn and Saint watched from their vantage point with night-vision goggles.
Their mission was to capture the pusher so they could interrogate him.
War exited their look-out spot and continuously threw his gaze over his shoulder, as if making sure no one was around or following him.
The picture-perfect junkie looking for a hit.
Jade followed in the shadows. His job was backup if needed. The pusher was a thin, younger man with deep pockmarks over his cheeks. The greasy strings of hair touched his shoulders, and the whiff of body odor on the evening breeze only emphasized his desperate need for a bath.
“Hey, man,” War said in a low tone.
“Back for more, I see,” the man greeted. “I got some new, primo dust just cooked a day ago. Guaranteed to make you soar through the skies.”
“How much for a bag?”
The pusher glanced around, as if making sure no one was watching. “For you, my friend, a return customer, two Bennys.”
“It was only a buck last time.”
“Like I said, primo grade.”
“You telling me the last shit you sold me was inferior?”
“No, of course not! Just a taste for a new client. Now that we’re friends, only the best for you.”
“Let me see it.”
Again, the pusher hesitated, but his greed won out, and he flashed a baggie of red powder.
War rubbed the back of his neck, which was the signal, and the Sons immediately jumped into action.
Sinn drove up to the curb like the hounds of Hell were chasing him, stomping on the brake long enough for Saint to throw open the van door.
In the blink of an eye, War grabbed the pusher’s shirt and flung him into the van.
Saint closed the door, and Sinn took off.
The whole thing only took about twenty seconds, and the street fell silent.
Jade left the shadows to meet up with War, who stared at his hands in disgust.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“I’m gonna have to scrub my hands with bleach. I think the fucker had fleas.”
“Nah, I bet he had scabies.”
War blinked at him. “Why would you put that thought into my head?”
“It’s not flea season.”
“Shut up, asshole.”
Jade smirked and started walking backward. “You might want to buy anti-scabies medicine.”
“Stop saying that word.”
“What word? Scabies? Just think, they might be laying their eggs right now under your skin. Do you itch yet?”
War charged, and Jade had enough common sense to turn and get as far away from the pissed-off enforcer as fast as possible.
****
Situated behind the clubhouse, toward the back of the Son’s property, was a large metal barn-type building where a lot of bike and car parts were stored.
The building also doubled as an interrogation place complete with chains, steel cable, and an entire arsenal of tools that were quite effective as torture devices.
By the time Jade made his way there, the drug dealer had already pissed his pants, which did not help the odor at all.
“Damn,” he muttered when he came to stand next to Snow, who had gotten his name because of his premature white hair. “We’re gonna need to fumigate after this.”
“Already mentioned that,” Snow replied.
“Oh, by the way, make sure you tell War he might have scabies.”
Snow blinked at him. “Is he going to punch me in the face if I do?”
“Probably,” Jade answered with a grin.
Snow rolled his eyes, and then they both focused on the interrogation.
The pusher sat tied to a chair. His hands were zip-tied to the arms and his ankles to the legs. Blood covered his face from the numerous cuts Sinn had inflicted as he punched the guy over and over, pausing every once in a while for Saint to interrogate.
“Who supplied you the Red Dust?”
The man’s head drooped, so Sinn grabbed the greasy hair and yanked it back. One eye was completely swollen shut.
“I don’t know,” he moaned. “I’m sorry. I never meant to step on the Sons’ feet!”
“You did more than step.” Saint’s voice was low. Calm. Danger coming through every syllable. “You flipped us off with a big ‘ole fuck you.”
“No,” the man moaned.
“Now, I’ll ask again. Who. Gave you. The Red Dust?”
“I ... I ... don’t know,” he wailed. “Please. I’m telling the truth.”
“You must be a masochist.” He gave a nod to Sinn, who punched him in the stomach. The dealer let out an agonized oof. “One name ends this.”
“I don’t know—”
Sinn went to hit him again, and the man cried out.
“Wait!” He panted, a sob in his voice. His teeth were crimson with his own blood. “I—I get a text that tells me where to pick up the product. Another place to drop the money. It’s always somewhere different. I’ve never seen him. I swear.”
Jade did not like the warning sign that flashed through him. Red Dust was killing people, and that could impact the Sons by bringing the Feds breathing down on their own operation. And no one has seen his face.
“Where’s the phone?”
“Charging in my bedroom,” he said, moaning. “Please, I—I just want to go home.”
Saint looked at War and nodded to the door. War immediately left to follow the silent instruction. They had already researched the man and knew where he lived.
“There’s no more home for you,” Saint told him bluntly. “You won’t leave here alive.”
A sob tore out of him. “What? No, please. No. I told you everything. I told you the truth!”
“You crossed the Sons. The choice you have to make now is whether you want to die fast or slow. You know what it means if you choose slow.”
Another sob came, and the man turned into a sniveling crier with snot running down and over his lips.
Sinn yanked his head back again. “Please say slow.”
Jade had no sympathy for the bawling man who chose fast. Saint gave Sinn a nod, who pulled out his Sig Sauer and shot a bullet into the man’s head. The body would disappear, and it would be as if the pusher had never existed at all.
“Snow, analyze the data on that phone once War gets back,” Saint ordered.
“Will do.”
“I want patrols through the rookery. Make our presence known.”
“Think the gangs had anything to do with it?” Jade asked.
“Hopefully not,” Sinn said. “We just had the ceasefire.”
Saint delegated who did what, and then dismissed them until church in the morning. Jade immediately headed to The Inkpot, wanting to see Shiloh.
****
Shiloh was about to lock the door when Jade arrived. Through the glass, his gaze met hers, and she gave him a big smile. He dismounted and made his way inside, making sure to engage the lock behind him.
“I didn’t expect to see you,” she said.
He pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Wanna grab a bite to eat at the diner?”
She nodded. “Sure. Let me finish closing up.”
At that moment, Apollo came from the back and stopped when he saw Jade. One eyebrow went up. “Didn’t expect to see you tonight.”
“That’s what she said,” he replied, nodding toward Shiloh.
“Did everything get resolved?”
“More or less,” he replied.
She knew that probably was code for something illegal. Or dangerous. Or illegal and dangerous.
With Jade pitching in, they finished for the night and locked the doors. At the bike, he handed her the helmet, and she settled behind him.
“Ready?”
She nodded.
They waved at Apollo and off they went, heading toward the diner.
As they raced along the quiet streets, Shiloh finally admitted to herself that she was falling for the biker.
They ate a very late-night dinner, then he took her back to Vette’s house.
With her working late hours and Vette’s odd hours, she rarely saw her roommate anymore.
He turned off the bike, took off his brain bucket, and beckoned her with a finger. She mimicked him and placed the helmet on the backrest before stepping close to him.
“I’m going to kiss you,” he warned. “Are you okay with that?”
She nodded, biting her bottom lip. A thrill filled her. Anticipation bled throughout her body. He lightly touched her lips with his, adding just a bit of pressure to make it a kiss, but not too much to trigger a panic attack. Then he pulled back, and disappointment filled her.
“Was that okay?”
He studied her, waiting, and she appreciated that he took his time with her. But now, she wanted more. Grabbing his cut with one hand, she pulled him in close, and this time, she was the one guiding the kiss.
Suddenly, her world rocked with the explosion of color.
As if everything had been in black and white, and now burst into Technicolor life.
This had been the kiss she’d waited her whole life for, back when she used to believe in happy endings.
A kiss she felt all the way to her heart.
His helmet clattered to the ground when he cupped the back of her head and took over.
Everything the romantic poets had written about.
The promise of a fairy tale love lay in that breath-stealing embrace.
When he finally lifted his head so they could breathe, all she wanted to do was pull him back for more.
Naughty visions of them entwined in bed bounced in her head, and she realized with amazement that it didn’t fill her with fear.
She didn’t want to run and hide under her bed so the monster couldn’t find her.
Perhaps Jade had just slain her demon.
“Come home with me tomorrow night,” he whispered as he leaned his forehead against hers.
It was time to truly turn the page.
“Okay.”