Chapter 24
24
S andoval pressing a gun to Marisol’s temple changed everything. My brain spun with all the ways this could go sideways.
“I hadn’t planned on the day going this way, but over the years I’ve learned to be flexible.” Sandoval’s lifeless voice chilled me. “I’d arranged for you and Blood to be dealt with on the winding roads back to Tijuana, but this will work too.” Sandoval jerked his head to the hallway where Marisol had appeared only seconds before. “Move.”
“Fuck that.” I had to back him down, but I had no illusions about this bastard shooting all of us. I nodded to Blood. “We’re not doin’ shit.”
Sandoval pressed the gun harder into Marisol’s temple and her eyes connected with mine and widened. “Not even to save the beautiful girl.”
I swallowed hard then sneered. “I don’t give a fuck what happens to her.”
“A man’s eyes tell many stories and I didn’t miss the flicker of emotion in yours when she appeared.”
“Yeah, and that emotion is hate. Bitch lied to me, then fucked my brains out hoping to get information about our setup.” I huffed out a harsh laugh. “Ice the whore, I don’t give a shit.”
“Of course you don’t because you’re nothing but a low life biker.” Marisol twitched, then arched her back, but Sandoval pulled her closer. “I hated every minute with you.”
Her gaze burned into me. Each silently trying to read the other. The convincing tone of her voice pinched a nerve, but I had to play this out. In three large steps, I moved closer to her and ran my fingers over her breast, pinching her nipple through her thin t-shirt.
Sandoval’s eyes widened, but he didn’t try to protect her like I’d hoped, so I slid my hand over her waist, then squeezed the flesh of her thigh and snarled. “That’s not what you said when I pounded you with my cock.”
She hissed in a breath as her cheeks flushed. Keeping perfect eye contact, I grazed the inside of her thigh and she flinched. In one smooth move, I bent over, released the gun from around my ankle, yanked Marisol out of Sandoval’s grasp and shoved her toward Blood. He used the diversion to secure his Beretta, then angled Marisol behind him.
“Put the fuckin’ guns down,” I ordered Sandoval and the bodyguard.
“Never,” Sandoval yelled.
“Stop this,” Marisol ran between me and Sandoval.
I reached for her, but she evaded me.
“Drop it,” I said to the guard and when he didn’t obey I added, “He had his wife murdered so do you really think he gives a shit about you?”
Sandoval turned his head toward the guard. “Don’t listen to him.”
“I mean, shit, he was ready to smoke his own daughter so what do you think your chances are?”
The guard wavered and I raised my gun higher targeting Sandoval. His eyes bugged out and a second later a shot rang out from behind me. Sandoval’s eyes registered shock, then he crumbled onto the marble flooring.
Silence filled the foyer along with the smell of gun powder. Marisol’s face paled, and I followed her gaze to a guy in swim shorts holding a gun. I rushed to Marisol and she collapsed into my arms.
“Let’s go,” Blood yelled behind me, but he was three seconds too late. The guards from outside barged through the door and more gunfire ricocheted through the room.
I lifted Marisol into my arms and threw her over my shoulder as bullets whizzed past my head. Blood covered me from behind as I did my best to shield Marisol from the gunshots exploding around us. Just as I reached the door the searing sting of a bullet radiated through my shoulder, but I pounded down the stairs focused on the van and our escape.
H anging over Smoke’s shoulder fireman-style gave me an upside-down view of the chaos unfolding around us. A hysterical urge to laugh bubbled up in my throat at how apropos the scene played out, but I couldn’t think of that now. I couldn’t think at all with the acrid smell of gun powder filling my nose and the deafening sound of gunshots exploding around me.
My stomach bounced against Smoke’s shoulder as he raced us out of the foyer, then down the stone steps and onto the driveway. Something sliced my side followed by a burning sensation, then a weird numbness. Smoke spun around and I caught sight of Ricky and Bolt guns drawn firing their own shots at my father’s guards. Screaming, cursing, and then Smoke’s voice.
“Take my bike,” he ordered one of them, then threw them the keys .
From my odd angle I saw Blood shoving Manny into the front seat of the van. Then Smoke jogged us to the other side of the vehicle away from the bullets. He unlatched the back door and threw me inside. I hit the metal flooring with a whoosh, knocking the breath out of my lungs.
Smoke hopped in after me and banged his knuckles against the side of the van. Ricky floored it, and a staccato of bullets struck the side of the van. Ricky made a wide turn around the circular driveway and the cargo doors flew open. Smoke grabbed for the latch, and when the van pitched in the other direction the door slammed shut on the back of his hand.
“Fuck!” Smoke bellowed, then reached for the door again slamming it shut.
Smoke’s eyes roamed over me, then he fell to his knees beside me.
“Shit,” he mumbled, as he unlatched a plastic box and pulled out packages of gauze.
“Don’t worry, babe, you’re gonna be fine.” He pressed the strips of cotton to my side.
I didn’t know if it was the motion of the van or because I was lying flat, but my mind spun at a dizzying speed. Why was everything moving so fast? Why couldn’t I focus?
My eyelids were suddenly too heavy.
“Marisol, stay with me,” Smoke yelled.
Why did Smoke’s face look so distorted?
“Marisol!” he yelled again.
Why wouldn’t he just let me sleep?
M anny contacted a local doctor who practiced discretion along with medicine, so when we rolled into the lot of The Tropics he was waiting for us inside the club .
I carried Marisol up to my room and laid her on my bed. Her pale skin and shallow breathing scared the shit out of me along with the blood seeping from her side. Would fate let me save her from her father only to have her ripped away from me later? Of course it would, my own fucked up life laid proof.
The doctor herded us all out of the room and I paced in front of the closed door. After fifteen minutes I barged back into my bedroom.
“How is she?” I demanded, because this whole night was one clusterfuck after another.
“She’s going to be fine,” the doctor assured in a voice reserved for crazy people.
Fine? I hate that fuckin’ word.
I pointed to her side. “She was bleeding like a stuck pig and unconscious for at least twenty minutes.”
The ride back to The Tropics was a new version of hell. Pressing wads of gauze to Marisol’s unconscious body as her blood covered my hands.
“A bullet grazed her but there was no permanent damage. She needed a few stitches, but her vitals are good. I gave her something for the pain and to relax her. She was frantic asking about you and her brother. She should sleep for the next few hours.”
I nodded and moved past the doctor, but he stepped in my path.
“Now, let’s get you fixed up.”
I furrowed my brow and the doctor nodded to the shoulder of my t-shirt wet with blood and my swollen hand turning a sickly shade of yellow and blue.
“First let me see her.” I easily moved past the doctor and entered my bedroom.
I stood at the foot of the bed happy to see Marisol peacefully sleeping. Her small body lost under the sheets of my king-sized bed. Her breathing had eased, and even her color looked better. I’d seen my brothers get busted up plenty of times, but this was way different. A debilitating weakness I couldn’t control along with the dread of possibly losing her forever.
I leaned over her and placed a soft kiss on her forehead, then straightened the sheets around her.
A half hour later, the doc finished patching me up. Seems the same bullet that grazed Marisol took a chunk out of my shoulder, and now I was in a sling with my busted hand in a brace after getting it slammed in the van doors. Believe it or not the broken hand hurt worse than the bullet wound.
The others left, but I still had to report the night to Jameson. He should be happy with the news, but my national prez was a tough bastard to figure out.
“ I already told you, I’m not leaving,” a harsh male voice growled.
I tried to open my eyes, but the simple move required too much effort, so I laid semi-awake listening to a one-sided conversation somewhere close to me.
“Yeah, yeah, I know that’s what I’ve been talking about for the last four months but I’ve changed my mind.”
I struggled to get my bearings or at least put a name to the voice.
“Look, you said you wanted a chapter down here.”
A familiar male voice—Smoke’s voice.
“I’ve made up my mind, and now we’ve got the money to pull it off, so I don’t see the big fuckin’ problem.”
Smoke’s angry, pissed off voice.
“Fine. You think about it, but I’m not leaving her and that’s my bottom line.”
Was I the her ?
A string of curses and mumbled words followed, then silence.
Footsteps of someone coming into the room. I tried with all my might to open my eyes, and when I did everything was covered in a filmy haze.
The bed dipped and Smoke’s face came into view. “Hey, babe.” He brushed my hair off my shoulder and leaned in. “How you feeling?”
Like I’m floating above my body. Like I’m here, but I’m not. Like I’m dreaming, but I couldn’t formulate any of those thoughts because my mouth and throat felt like I swallowed a pail of sand.
“You’re gonna be all right.” He gently stroked my head. “We got you patched up.”
I forced my eyes to stay open long enough to focus on Smoke’s drawn expression and then lower to his left arm in a sling with his hand bandaged.
“You?” I croaked out the one word.
“It’s nothing.” He smiled and something shifted inside me.
“You’re hurt.” I coughed against my sandpaper throat, then winced.
“Take it easy.” He leaned in a gently kissed my forehead. “You rest, everything’s gonna be fine.”
“Manny?” I tried to clear my throat, but it only made it worse. “How’s Manny?”
“He’s fine, not a scratch on him.”
“You’re telling me the truth?”
“Always.”
Smoke squeezed my hand and I believed him. What choice did I have? He saved me and my brother, then made sure we made it to safety. I literally owed him our lives.
I stared up into his roughed up face wanting to tell him how I felt. Wanting to make sure he knew how grateful I was, but my foggy brain wouldn’t formulate the words. Then my eyes slid shut and I drifted into a peaceful place where all was right, and nothing bad could happen.
“ I can’t believe I’m sayin’ this, but I think it’s gonna work.”
I closed the club for a few days to regroup and now I sat at the head of a table in the VIP section of The Tropics. I uncapped a bottle of Jack and lined up four glasses resting my eyes on Blood, Ricky, Bolt, and Marisol’s brother, Manny. “Consider this your first church meeting in Tijuana.”
After all the chaos of the last forty-eight hours, I wanted to assess our future.
“In the next few weeks we need to concentrate on building up the club and getting shit straight.”
They all nodded their agreement and I continued. “Blood of course is my VP and I’d like to elect Ricky as secretary since he’s organized and knows this area better than any of us.”
Ricky smiled and nodded.
“Bolt will definitely be our enforcer.” I cut my eyes to the big man. “I can still see you ramming that bodyguard’s head into the side of the van while bullets are fuckin’ flying in all directions.”
Bolt squared his shoulders. “It’s what I’m good at.” Then he grinned, gold tooth and all.
They all laughed and I sobered. “When shit settles we’re goin’ back to the fight club. See if we can pick up another recruit.”
“I know a guy who’d be perfect for this life,” Bolt offered.
“Sounds good. I wanna get over there tomorrow and check it out. Nobody knows more about fight clubs than me. It’s a good moneymaker, and I wanna swoop in before anybody else tries to dip their fingers into it.”
Now that Rico was dead, all his businesses both legit and shady would be up for grabs and I wasn’t wasting any time scooping up and improving on what he left behind.
“And I think Manny should be our treasurer.” I cut my gaze to him. “I understand from your sister you got some fancy degree in accounting.”
“All true.” Manny accepted the position and we exchanged fist bumps.
“Especially since he’s given this chapter the boost of cash it needs to get started.”
Fuck yeahs and fist bumps circled the table.
I still had trouble wrapping my head around the shit that transpired. Rico going totally off the rails and holding a gun to his daughter’s head only to be gunned down by his son, Manny. Seems the kid was a powder keg about to explode and when he saw his sister in jeopardy he wasn’t about to stand by and watch another family member die at Rico’s hand.
According to Manny, Rico had high hopes for his son following in his footsteps. So much so that he told Manny the combinations to all the safes hidden around the villa. Useful information, for sure.
The next night we went back to the villa, staked it out, and when the cops left we snuck under the crime scene tape. Manny gave us a guided tour of all those hidden safes and we stuffed millions of dollars into canvas bags. Enough to fill the cargo van.
“I laid it all out for Jameson, and although we still have some shit to wade through he’s sanctioned Tijuana as a chapter in the RBMC.” I filled their glasses, then toasted. “Here’s to the Tijuana chapter of the Royal Bastards.”
I refilled their glasses and Blood stood. “Protect, Respect, Honor.”
We all drank to the Bastard’s motto.