Chapter 9
9
I entered the back door, and Rita sat at the kitchen table nursing a steaming cup of espresso. She looked up and smiled, the same smile I’d seen since I was a little girl nabbing freshly baked cookies in our kitchen at the villa.
“Are you all right?” she asked me in Spanish.
“I’m fine.” I joined her at the table and we sat in silence as I collected my thoughts.
My father had arranged for me to use her house in Tijuana in case anyone asked questions about where I lived. Or like tonight when an outlaw biker insisted on taking me home.
Smoke’s overall concern floored me. A reaction I hadn’t expected from a biker, no less someone I was supposed to hate—someone I did hate.
As expected my phone lit up with my father’s number and I swiped at it.
“I understand the night was a success.” My father didn’t believe in cordial openings.
“Everything went as planned although you might want to check on the guy who grabbed me. He ended up leaving with two gunshot wounds. ”
“Not an issue. Those men were expendable that’s why I sent them.”
I’d been dealing directly with my father setting up this scheme soon after my mother was shot. The original plan was to infiltrate the Bastards at their San Diego clubhouse, but then the plan changed. Smoke’s clubhouse was raided by an undercover DEA agent and him and Blood were banished to Tijuana. My father called it a stroke of luck and God’s will. How the man could invoke the supreme being after all his transgressions was beyond me, but somehow my father always thought he was in the right. Narcissism at its finest.
The Royal Bastards in Tijuana meant Rico could come from a position of power on his home turf with an army of people at his disposal.
“What I really want to know is what happened afterward?”
“After the gunfight on the sidewalk, Smoke came to my rescue. He insisted on taking me home. Even walking me to the door which of course I didn’t allow. I told him I lived with my very strict father.”
“Perfect. This is coming along exactly as expected.”
I left out the part how Smoke’s strong muscled arms made me feel safe and protected. A feeling I’d rarely experienced since my mother’s death. A sensation I missed desperately and needed to shut down if I was to do this job correctly.
I even got to play the Romeo and Juliet theme. What was more desirable than a woman who was forbidden. Knowing Smoke’s reputation with women would make me impossible to resist. The unattainable fruit like in the Garden of Eden. Only in this parable Adam was an outlaw biker who Eve would deceive and the snake was a cartel chieftain.
W hen I entered the club through the back door it was quiet, too quiet for one a.m. The place should’ve vibrated with people and pounding music, not closed up.
Ricky and some of the bouncers were cleaning up the broken bottles of booze, but the whole thing was bullshit. Since we emptied the registers every hour they didn’t get away with much and the damage being cleaned up didn’t amount to anything. Typical smash and grab of desperate junkies or a setup by Sandoval to rattle us. A pussy move in an effort to show us who’s boss. Little did Sandoval know, it would take way more to mess with us.
I stood outside the closed door of my office and weighed my options. Go upstairs and deal with Blood in the morning or barge into the office full of fuckin’ attitude and back him down about any bullshit he’d throw my way. And there would be bullshit, for sure. First he’d rag on me for taking Marisol home or even getting involved in the first place and then—Ahhh, fuck it.
When I shouldered through the door, Blood turned to face me. His features were tight, his jaw and the vein in his neck ticking in time with each other.
Spreading my arms wide I opened myself up for his wrath, both mentally and physically. Not what I wanted to do after a gunfight on the street and denying my cock what it really wanted.
“So, is little Miss Marisol home safely?”
I absolutely hated when Blood did passive-aggressive—a term I learned from a shrink in the joint. I would’ve rather he punched me in the gut. That I understood, that I could repay.
“Just say what you wanna say.” I was right the first time. Should’ve just gone up to my room and locked the fuckin’ door.
“You don’t really wanna hear what I have to say. Cause you don’t listen anyway.”
“For shit’s sake, she’s twenty-two years old and she was held at gunpoint. I hadda do something for her. And while we’re on that subject, how the fuck did you let four guys toting guns get the jump on you?”
Best defense was a fucked up offense, right?
“Cause they did everything right. They showed the bouncers their IDs, bought drinks, threw some cash at the dancers, then it all fell to shit.”
“So, it wasn’t a smash and grab by spun out tweakers. It was organized.”
“Absolutely. Too organized.”
“Sandoval’s guys.”
“Most likely.” Blood cocked his head. “Did you fuck her?”
“Shiit, man, stay on topic.” Of course, Blood would go there. I’d just calmed my angry cock down and now those words alone got the damn thing riled up again.
Blood pushed off the desk. “Did you?”
“No, I fuckin’ did not.”
Blood cocked his head in his annoying way calling bullshit.
“I’m telling you, I didn’t. She lives with her damn family. What was I gonna do screw her on the back of my bike?”
Blood’s lips twisted. Another annoying tell.
“All right, so yeah, I’ve screwed plenty of bitches on the back of my bike, but not Marisol.”
“Ahhhh, isn’t that cozy calling her by her name.”
“What the fuck you want me to call her? It’s her name.”
“I find it interesting since you usually refer to women as bitches, and you rarely even get a name.”
“She works for us for fuck’s sake of course I know her name.”
“Okay, I’ll bite. What’s the name of the stripper who does her act in the sexy cowgirl outfit, or the blonde who wears the Mexican flag G-string?”
My brain worked overtime, and even though I couldn’t come up with their names I wasn’t gonna tell the fucker he was right.
“Don’t know them, right? ”
“After the night I had you want me to recite the names of?—”
“Save it. You got women working here who strip practically naked and you don’t know their names, or give a shit about them, but the barely legal bartender fully clothed has your constant attention.”
“You keep mentioning her age. What the fuck does that have to do with it?”
Blood rubbed at his jaw. “Let’s see, I believe her application said she was twenty-two and if I remember correctly on your last birthday you turned thirty-five. Which makes you thirteen years older than her.”
“Wow, you trying to dazzle me with your math skills?” I rubbed at the back of my neck. “What’s your point?”
“You got no business being with her. That’s my point.”
“I settled her down, then took her home. It sure doesn’t pay to have one of our employees rattled and shooting off their mouth about what went on tonight. I don’t know why you’re getting so fucked up about this.”
“Cause we’re down here to make inroads with Sandoval, make this place a success with the ultimate goal of getting back to the States and outta this shit hole. You getting with some random tail doesn’t fit into the plan.”
“And I know all that.”
“You say that, but I’ve seen it before with you and I’ve also seen that look in your eyes when it comes to a woman.”
“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” I waved my hand at Blood mainly cause he was getting a little too close to the bone.
“You had the same damn look with that Tamara chick. It’s like an obsession with you. Some guys get strung out on blow or meth, but for you it’s pussy. It starts out slow and then all of a sudden you’re hooked, but instead of shoving shit up your nose you’re forgetting about your priorities and letting shit slide. Women are an addiction to you whether you wanna admit it or not, and we can’t afford to go down that road again.”
“We?”
“Yeah, you and me, brother. Cause right now we’re all we got down here, so let’s concentrate on finding out who robbed us tonight and forget about random snatch.”
The worst part was I couldn’t deny Blood’s words. I would’ve loved to tell him he was wrong and to go to hell, but we were always honest with each other even when it hurt. A shrink would probably blame my issue with women on some fucked up shit from my childhood, but for me it was basic need.
When I was with a woman all the static disappeared and I focused on the moment. Getting women had always been easy, and I guess I like what comes easy. Sex was just the added bonus. Since my early teens I discovered how easy it was to please a woman. After that it was full steam ahead—again, I like easy. Didn’t matter if it lasted, I got off on the high of someone wanting me for however long. Harsh fuckin’ realization, but true. In my own way I was dependent on women although most times it appeared to be the other way around.
“I think we can be sure tonight’s fuck up had something to do with Sandoval.” I needed to get Blood on another subject. Much easier to discuss business than my fucked up emotions.
“Agreed. I told Ricky to put out some feelers, see what he can come up with since he seems to know or is related to everybody around here.”
I cracked my neck from side to side. “I’m beat. Let’s hit the sack and deal with this shit fresh tomorrow.”
Blood slapped me on the back. “Gotta say, brother, you were impressive tonight. Fuckin’ guns blazing and you came out without a scratch.”
“I’m invincible, like smoke.” I shot my VP a cocky grin cause that’s what he expected, but truth, all I could see was Marisol’s terrified face. Women. Blood was right, I crave them like a tweaker craves junk.
We climbed the back stairs then paused in the hallway in front of my door. “Another thing we gotta do is head over to that fight club, see if there’s anybody decent to recruit. After tonight’s shit show we need more than just you and me.”
Blood blew out a breath. “Ricky’s working out good, but you’re right, we need more manpower.”
“We can’t be too picky as long as they’re willing to throw fists if needed or handle a gun.”
“Agreed.”
We tapped fists and went into our separate rooms. The exhaustion hit me hard the minute I closed the door behind me. Like I had a fifty-pound weight on my back pressing me to the floor. I hit the bathroom, took a piss and a quick shower, then I put on a clean t-shirt and gym shorts before crawling under the covers.
I attached my phone to the charger and the screen came alive with messages.
“Fuck,” I mumbled. Was this some kind of a damn test?
Marisol: I just wanted to thank you again for your bravery tonight.
I stared at the message for almost a minute, then I eyed the reply bubble. Just swipe the damn thing away and go to bed, asshole.
Marisol: If it wasn’t for you, it could’ve ended very badly.
I slapped the phone face down on the bedside table and it buzzed again.
Marisol: And also for the ride home. You were very sweet.
Ahhh, fuck. Sweet?
Even after giving a woman multiple orgasms they never called me sweet. I’ve spent thirty-five years looking at myself in the mirror. Between the scar running down my jawline and multiple fractures of my nose, sweet was not in my description box.
What happened next was not good.
Smoke: You should be asleep by now.
The little reply bubbles popped up immediately and I knew I was in the shit.
Marisol: So should you.
Smoke: Not much of a sleeper, even on a good night.
Marisol: And this was definitely not a good night, right?
Smoke: Fuckin’ truth. Could’ve been a lot worse.
Marisol: We were both lucky, but I felt safe with you.
Fuck, fuck, fuck! Was she intentionally trying to crank me up?
Smoke: Always.
Marisol: Thanks for texting me back. I’ve been lying here in bed so restless. I kept tossing and turning .
Fuckin’ great. Now I wanted to ask her what she had on or didn’t have on. Shit!
Marisol: I feel better now.
Smoke: Good. Get some sleep.
I slammed the phone down and thank fuck it didn’t buzz again. Now I had the pleasure of lying here visualizing what she was wearing or not wearing.
Now I was restless. Damn.
I slammed the door of the limo and entered the villa content in knowing I played my part perfectly. Waiting just the right amount of time to send the text until I was sure he was in bed. Then playing the grateful female.
My father’s wisdom paid off and now that Smoke came to my rescue he could become my protector. A role most alpha males liked to play. We all played some role or another in this life. Some positive and others negative, but the role I played now was one of the avenger, because nothing or no one would get in my way when it came to getting my sweet revenge.