Demon, page 15
Junior's brows shot up. "Really?"
Oh, crap. I knew as soon as I said it that I'd screwed up.
"Couldn't make it back to Demon's room two doors down?"
I swallowed, and I was sure that Junior noticed it, but I'd always been quick on my feet, and now was no different. "I locked myself out."
I could see the change come over him instantly, a look that revealed that he believed I may be telling the truth. What I'd said made perfect sense of why he’d caught me coming out of LD's room. He pulled on his beard, and I felt like a bug under a microscope as he studied me thoughtfully, trying to make up his mind if he should believe me or not.
"Well, if you'll excuse me, I'm hungry." I moved around him.
He didn't try to stop me, but I could feel his eyes following me, burning into my backside, and not in a sexual way. Junior was suspicious. I was sure that finding his door open when he’d been talking to Tamara had unnerved him. Had to have him wondering if anyone had overheard them.
Thank God LD had dragged me away when he had.
From here on out, I was going to keep a watchful eye on Junior and Tamara.
Chapter 18
Demon
I couldn't keep making this trip back and forth to Crystal's Palace. I wanted Annabelle out of there and with me at the clubhouse. Moving her into my house would be ideal, but I didn't want her to be alone. Her body had healed, but she had a long way to go to healing her mind from the vicious attack she had suffered. She was getting stronger and better every day, her natural beauty shining through. Little by little her memory was returning, too, but it came through the nightmares that still tormented her.
Some would question why I'd kept her at Crystal's Palace where the attack had occurred, but I'd had my reasons, as insane as they were. I’d gone with my gut in deciding to keep Annabelle at Crystal's Palace while she recuperated. The bastard that had attacked her had left her for dead; she'd been hurt that fucking bad, so there'd be no reason for him to return to the scene of the crime. I'd beefed up surveillance, and body guards now lived on the premises. Now that Desert Rebels owned the place, we had total control.
It was time to get the club involved.
I wanted to find the fucker who was responsible for this. Once Annabelle was moved to the clubhouse we could go after him. Someone was going to die, and it wasn't going to be fast and painless. No, I was going to take vicious pleasure in making it slow and painful, drawing his torture out as long as I could. I'd done it to our enemies before, and between me and Cole, he would be begging for death.
No one hurt what was mine. No. One.
I was going full throttle towards home, the speed doing little to keep the heat of the sun off my back. Everything around me looked desolate and dry, a common sight in this part of Nevada. At one point a police cruiser passed me coming from the opposite direction, making no attempt to turn around and come after me. I grinned, watching him in my side-view mirror. Smart cop. At the speed I was going, he would have never caught me anyway.
My mind moved on from thoughts of Annabelle to Bobbie. I'd fucked up with her. I had a feeling that I was going to pay for it, too. I'd treated her like shit her first few months at the clubhouse, throwing club whores in her face while ignoring her. Then I’d run her off, and once I’d gotten her back I'd finally taken what I'd wanted. Now I was fucking hooked, as I'd feared I would be. There was just something about the woman that got to me.
I didn't know where we were going, but scratching an itch seemed a good place to start.
The sun was beginning to set, but it did nothing to change the fucking heat. At least the brightness wasn't as severe once the sun had disappeared behind the mountains, offering some relief to my burning, straining eyes. I wanted to reach home before darkness fell. I was about ten minutes away when I saw a group of bikers heading my way. The good news was that on the road I was traveling you could see your enemies approaching before they reached you. The bad news was that if you were alone, you were pretty much fucked.
I was pretty much fucked.
If they decided to cause trouble, six on one were never good odds.
I recognized the Knights MC, a club that we had once been affable with until their president, Bear, was killed in a head-on crash on a trip down south a few months ago. Since then the club had gone downhill fast, thanks to their new president, Stretch. Stretch was a hothead asshole that had a penchant for making bad decisions that kept the heat coming down on them. All the hard work Bear had done trying to keep the club’s reputation clean and keep them out of serious trouble had been wiped out by the heavy drug trade they were now involved in.
Desert Rebels weren't exactly squeaky clean, but we didn't deal in guns and drugs like we had in the old days, or in human trafficking, which we’d never been involved in. On occasion we went on protection runs for other MCs who were transporting illegal merchandise, and we occasionally took on security jobs. The killing would never stop considering that our enemies were outlaw MCs determined to make their mark by taking us out, and trying to claim our territory.
I reached up and clicked on my Bluetooth and called the bar phone. Someone was always there, and right then I didn't have time to start calling brothers to see who was closest to me.
"Yeah, boss?"
Snake, the new recruit, insisted on calling me boss. "I need backup A-sap. I'm ten minutes away, coming from Vegas." I didn't wait for his response. I had to put faith in our prospects. Besides, I didn't have time to call another brother. The Knights were upon me.
I slowed down, anticipating for them to make some kind of move, a little surprised that they kept to their side of the road. It looked like they were just going to pass on by, but I didn't let down my guard. I kept my eyes on them, recognizing a couple of riders from past interactions with their club, but most were unknown to me. Two riders had women behind them, but they didn't appear to take their safety into consideration. When we traveled with our women we kept them on the inside, close to the shoulder, flanked by other bikers.
Two bikers I did recognize were in the lead. They made eye-contact, smirking as they zoomed past. The hair rising on the back of my neck gave me a warning that I was late in recognizing. As more of their men rode past, one of them kicked out at my bike with enough force to cause me to swerve, lose control, and go down. I skidded several feet on the fucking asphalt, feeling my leathers shred until bare skin was scraping the road. I ended up in the gravel on the shoulder with my bike on top of me.
Son-of-a-bitch! I didn't have time to lie there and inspect the damage. I could already hear their bikes slowing down, and I glanced up from my position to see them further down the road, turning around. Fuck! I pushed my hog off me and wiggled out from under it, reaching for my piece. Nothing was broken, thank fuck, but I could feel the burning wetness of my raw flesh. I was fucking pissed, and fired off a round to get their attention.
"Far enough, assholes!" I snarled, using my bike for coverage while knowing full well that one shot to the gas tank would end me. "The fact you attacked me so close to my clubhouse proves how fucking stupid you are!"
"Fuck you, Demon! You think we're pussies? We're not about to let an opportunity slip past to take out the president of Desert Rebels!"
A shot came my way, ricocheting off my handlebars. Fuck, that was close! I took aim and fired, hitting one of them in the shoulder. The man screamed and dropped his gun, clutching at the wound.
"You're outnumbered, asshole!" one of them yelled. By now they'd all come to a stop and had gotten off their bikes. "You got nowhere to run!"
"I don't run!" I shouted back, firing again. They scrambled behind their bikes. "You fuckers have about five minutes before my brothers get here!"
More gunshots came my way, pinging off my bike and into the gravel next to me. Too close, considering it was growing dark. Night time in the desert was pitch black, and the road had no lights.
"Won't take us that long to take you out, motherfucker! Give him everything we got!"
Fuck! I was a sitting duck, even with my bike between us. I flattened myself on the ground as the area was riddled with bullets. It was just a matter of time before I was hit, and when it finally happened the bullet tearing into my flesh felt like a red-hot spear. I grunted at the impact, and then groaned as severe pain followed, fighting the urge to reach down to my thigh to inspect the seriousness of it. I knew that the slightest movement could give them a better target to focus on.
"Still alive, asshole?" a laughing voice asked after the shooting had stopped and the dust had settled.
I ignored the little fucker, my trigger finger twitching. I could make out muted whimpering from the women. They must have been scared out of their minds. Someone snapped at them to shut up.
"Someone go see if he's still alive."
I hadn't moved, and the darkness was on my side. Apparently none of his men moved, because a moment later he was bellowing, "Go!" I could hear the frustration in his demand.
I grinned and waited, listening to the footfalls coming my way. It sounded like two of them were coming. That was fine with me. I had a better chance going up against two than four. I strained to hear if anything was coming down the road in the distance. In spite of the nocturnal sounds in the desert, I could make out the distinct sounds of bikes.
"Be careful, the fucker might be playin' possum," someone said in a harsh whisper.
Another man grunted. "Well let's pump him full of lead to make sure."
That was my cue to make a move or lie there and die. I waited until they were right on top of me. The cocking of a gun was my cue to roll onto my back. I opened fire, taking them by surprise. I unloaded my weapon, watching them jerk around like marionettes until they fell to the ground next to me. If they weren't dead, I didn't deserve to be president.
At some point lights hit me. It took a second for me to realize that the idiots had turned on their bike lights. I snorted. They could see me, but I could also see where they were. As I emptied my gun in their direction they began scrambling for protection, firing back blindly. I reached for my backup, still crouching behind my bike, shooting in their direction and praying that I didn't hit the women. I heard a cry, indicating that I'd hit another one. The sound of my brothers getting closer caused me to let my rage loose, and I fired rapidly toward the bikes, knocking two of the lights out.
"Fuck, I'm hit!" someone whined.
"Keep shooting!" someone else demanded. "There's fucking one of him."
"Maybe we should retreat—"
"I'll fucking shoot you myself, you coward!"
The next time I got hit it took my breath away and I saw stars. It was a side shot, and I knew that the bullet went straight through but it didn't hurt any less. Christ, at this rate I was going to end up looking like a fucking piece of Swiss cheese. I knew that I was almost out of bullets, and crawled over to where the two men that I'd killed were laying. I snatched up their guns and moved back to my bike.
"I hear bikes coming!" someone said in an anxious voice.
"Leave the women, they'll slow us down! Let's go!"
Leave the women? What the fuck? I slowly got to my feet when I heard them kick their bikes to life. Shit! I hissed, the pain making me dizzy. I looked down at my bike, realizing that there was no way I'd be able to get it up in my current condition. I could feel the blood pouring from my wounds. With a gun clutched in one hand, I kept my other hand over the wound at my side, watching the tail lights of the bikes riding away just as my brothers were arriving.
"The fucking Knights!" I hollered over the noise of their bikes.
Cole, Loco, LD, and Snake continued on past while Riggs and Bull pulled up alongside of me. I glanced over in the direction of the two women that had been left behind. They were visible in the bike lights, and were standing on the side of the road, clutching each other fearfully. I sensed that something wasn't right, but at the moment I didn't give a fuck.
"Fuck, Prez!" Bull was first off his bike. I could hear the panic in his voice, and knew that he'd taken in my bloody appearance.
I held up my hand to halt his sudden rush toward me. "Get my fucking bike up," I ordered. Keeping eyes on the two women, I limped over to them. "Something tells me you ladies weren't with the Knights willingly." The pain shooting through my body nearly had my knees buckling.
They both shook their heads, wild fear reflected in their eyes. "We were walking home after work when they stopped and forced us on their bikes."
I gauged the woman speaking as the older of the two, maybe around twenty-five.
Both were pretty, their features similar enough to suggest that they might be sisters. They were medium in height with dirty blond hair and bright blue eyes that were round and staring at me with fear, shifting every few seconds to watch what my brothers were doing. One was wearing jeans and a tee, while the other was in a waitress uniform.
"We're not going to hurt you," Bull said, joining me.
Both sets of blue eyes darted back to me for confirmation. I smiled through the pain. "Bull's right. We don't hurt women." Their expressions remained on high alert, and I couldn't blame them. "We'll get you back where you belong." I was beginning to feel lightheaded from loss of blood. My body was shaking.
"Fuck, Prez, we need to get you back to the clubhouse before you fall down and can't get back up," Riggs growled, noticing my condition. "Doc's already on his way." He wrapped his belt around my thigh as a tourniquet.
"I can help," the women in jeans and tee said in a soft voice. "I'm a nurse," she admitted, a tiny smile on her lips.
"Great!" Bull said sharply. "You're with me." He swung his leg over the seat of his bike without waiting for her response.
Riggs attention was on me as he held up my bike. "Scraped up a little, but I don't see any damage to the controls or engine. Can you ride back to the clubhouse?"
I gave him a glare. It would take more than a couple of bullets to keep me from riding. He brought my bike to me and I mounted slow and easy, groaning when I had to bring my leg over the saddle. I had to sit there for a minute to catch my breath.
"Darlin'--" Bull's tone was deep with amusement, his eyes on the nurse. She stared at him and his bike with renewed panic. "What's your name?"
"Viola." Her smile grew a little bigger. "This is my sister, Jordan."
"Well, Viola, climb on back of me so we can get going."
The women exchanged worried glances.
"Jordan will ride with Riggs.”
"I don't bite, sweetheart."
I couldn't hold back my snort because, according to the sluts at the clubhouse, Riggs liked to bite. Somehow I found the strength to lift my kickstand with my wounded left leg. It took several muttered “fucks” and the grinding of my back teeth to get through it without crying out like a fucking pussy. Thank fuck the clubhouse was only ten minutes away. Paying no attention to the light bantering going on between my brothers and the two women, I started my bike and headed out.
By the time I reached the clubhouse I felt weak as a kitten. Reid and Chewy were outside smoking when I pulled through the gate. Seeing me struggle to get off my bike without going down made them rush over to me.
"Fuck, brother, what the hell happened?" There was concern in Chewy's tone as he put my arm around his shoulder. Apparently he hadn't been around when the call for backup had come in.
"The Knights," Riggs explained, coming up behind me. "Get him to the infirmary, Doc's on his way."
I was thankful for Chewy and Reid's help getting through the clubhouse and to the back room that we'd set up as a mini hospital room. We had just about everything the doctor would need to take care of any situation that came up. It came in handy when the kids were there for club activities and got hurt, too.
"Doc's in for a shock. Been a while since he's had to treat a bullet wound," Reid quipped, making sure that I was settled on the table before removing his arm.
"I need his clothes off to see what I'm dealing with," Viola ordered, moving closer.
I grinned, watching the confusion spread across Reid and Chewy's faces. Chewy stepped back, putting himself between me and Viola in a protective move that stopped her in her tracks.
"Step back, brother, Viola is a nurse and willing to help," Bull growled.
A hiss escaped me and Chewy moved, allowing Viola to get to me. I slipped my cut off and Riggs caught it before it hit the floor. Bull moved to help me remove my t-shirt. "Fuck!" I swore as I began to lift the arm on the same side of the wound.
"Cut it off him, it's ruined anyway," Viola said. Her timid smile was meant to placate me, but I was in too much fucking pain to appreciate her efforts. "Looks like you have a lot of cuts and scrapes from the road, too."
Bull reached in, grabbed my t-shirt by the ribbed neckline, and gave it a vicious tug, ripping it down the center and then off me. Viola gasped with surprise, her eyes rounding. Bull shot her a wink.
"Fuck, brother, I think I'm getting a boner," Chewy laughed. "That was hot!"
Reid snorted. "Let me see you do that with his pants."
Bull gave them the finger.
"Fuck, I'm here bleeding to death, and you brothers are fucking around," I grumbled. "Someone get me a shot."
"The doctor will give you a shot once he determines what you need," Viola said, examining my side with gentle fingers.
"Not that kind of shot, darlin'," Bull explained. He turned to leave the room.
"Please take my sister out of here. She doesn't need to see any of this."
"But—"
All eyes went to Jordan, who was looking slightly terrified. It was obvious that she didn't want to be away from her sister.
"Come on, sweetheart." Riggs put his arm around her shoulder and steered her toward the door. "I'll keep you company till she's done, yeah?"
"She's afraid."
Viola glanced up from my wound to meet Chewy's eyes. "We both are."
I groaned as she continued to poke and prod at my side. "The bullet went all the way through. Will someone please help him lie back?"
