Striker (Black Rebel Riders' MC Book 4) (8 page)

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Authors: Glenna Maynard

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BOOK: Striker (Black Rebel Riders' MC Book 4)
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11

 

Romeo

Shit is fucked.  I can’t believe I just left her lying there all alone. I put in a call to Rumor told her I’d get the kids first thing in the morning. Thank fuck for my rebel family, always got my back when I need them most. Don’t know how shit went sour so quick with LL, we have had problems but damn. I never meant to hurt her. I just wanted her to be the woman I know she could be, the woman I thought she had become.

I had to get out of there. I only hope she can forgive me for what I’ve done, but more so I want to know what she meant when she said she done something horrible, something I’d kill her for. I hope to god she didn’t do something stupid. She obviously isn’t thinking clearly.

Back home now I light up a joint to smoke my distresses away for a short while until the phone rings with the news I already know.

“Sir, this is East End General, am I speaking with Mike Wells?”

“Speaking.”

“I am afraid I have terrible news, your wife has been in some sort of accident, and we need you to get here as soon as possible.”

I click the phone shut, take a swig from my jar of shine, pick my leather jacket up off the back of my chair, grab my keys and ride out.

At the hospital, the police are waiting to question me. They are more concerned with LL’s drug habits than her injuries, they think she got high and hurt herself. I explain to them how she was supposed to go to rehab, that she took off without a word leaving me alone with our three children. The police leave for now, stating they will return once my wife has awoken.

The doctor on call meets with me shortly after explaining that there is bleeding on the brain; she is waiting for neurology to look over the CT scans to decide if pursuing surgery is called for. For now, all I can do is sit and wait.

Since I am in for one hell of a long night, I go off in search of a vending machine. This piss poor free hospital coffee in the waiting room will have to do. After an hour or so, the motherfucker who I recognize from the disc Foxie gave me joins me. This pencil dick looking shit stick, has the nerve to sit next to me. I clinch the Styrofoam coffee cup nearly crushing it, burning my hand with the hot liquid contents, that is seeping through the cracks.

Standing I stretch my legs and toss the ruined cup in the trash. I start to exit when he says, “have a seat Mike, we have a lot to discuss.”  I rear back my fist ready to show him what I think about discussing a damn thing with him when he flashes his badge at me. Fuck, if this isn’t shit on dry toast and no water to wash it down with. Reluctantly I retake my seat in the uncomfortable plastic chair.

“While I would love to take your sorry ass in tonight, it won’t be on battery charges. What I have on you is a lot worse.” He stresses.

“That a fact?” I grit my teeth waiting for him to elaborate further.

“Your wife has told me plenty about you. For your sake, you had better hope she wakes up. Because if she doesn’t that’s another murder charge.”

“Murder…,” I whisper. What have you done Laura? God damn her, gonna’ kill her if she does come out of this. Bitch better pray for a painless death in her sleep.

“Way I see it either way you are going down, but as to what your charges are that my friend is up to you. I am here to offer you a onetime only deal. I already have the weapon with your prints on it. Ya know the one you used to kill Winston Rush. Your wife brought it to me when she left you. She also told me all about your moonshine ventures.”

“Speculation seems to me. Unless you are slapping cuffs around my wrists we got nothing to talk about.” I state as a matter of fact.

“You’ve gotten away with a lot over the years Mr. Wells, but all things must come to an end. You would be wise to hear me out. What I am offering you is a deal you can’t refuse. I can guarantee you a lesser charge if you give me what I need to take down Jack Grim Jones and the rest of the club. I know he is responsible for the disappearance of his old partner Slim Black. What do you think will happen to you once he finds out about your wife and her loose lips? Or your children? In a few weeks, you are to go to Tennessee to meet with my partner Gary. When you arrive you are to bring the deed to your cabin and photos of the still. I know the cabin is owned by Mr. Jones making the still his responsibility. I have already offered your wife witness protection for her and your children. Once she wakes up and signs the papers. We will secure your children. In the meantime I want you to give me the coordinates to the body of Slim Black and any other club members who have gone missing.”

“Fuck,” I scrub my face with my weary hands. “How long do I get to decide?”

“Until Tennessee, clock is ticking. Don’t speak to anyone about this. If anyone asks where your wife is, you tell them she is with a sick relative, long lost aunt. I’ll be in touch. I’ll call you if there is a change in your wife’s condition. You have to understand given the circumstance I can’t allow you to visit her.”

“I wouldn’t hurt my wife.” I say in defeat.

“Right, that’s why she’s lying in intensive care.” He clicks his tongue.

Jumping from my seat, I grab his throat and pin him to the wall, “look here motherfucker, you don’t know shit. I could kill you right now and no one would care, bury you out in the woods, or feed you to the coyotes.”

“Is that what you done with Slim,” he grits out through his teeth. I squeeze his neck harder, his cheeks growing red, fear in his eyes.

“Don’t cross me pigfucker, I haven’t forgotten that you supplied my wife with heroine to get what you wanted from her.” I let go and he slides down to the floor grasping his throat, gasping for air. I kick him in the gut with my steel toe boot for good measure. He was right about one thing though, if Grim finds out my family and I are as good as dead, I gotta’ find a way to fix this shit. Fast.

Striker

Rolling over, my arm falls against a warm body. “Mmm,” I smile. “Change your mind,” I snuggle up against Baby’s ass poking her with my morning wood. I kiss her neck, when I notice she smells wrong. My eyes fly open. Fucking Diamond. I spring from the bed and scream for her to get the hell out.

She smiles at me, and says, “You didn’t mind a moment ago. I think you were enjoying it.”

“Get the fuck out, my hard on had nothing to do with you. I don’t know what kind of game you are playing but if I were you I wouldn’t show my face around here again. Ya feel me—you are playing with fire bitch, don’t get burned.”

Unwillingly she swings her legs over the bed and leaves, not before trying to kiss me.  I shove her down in the floor. “Stay the fuck away from me.” I warn her. What the fuck is wrong with this crazy bitch? I hope no one seen her ass coming or going.

Not the way I was hoping to wake up. I thought Baby had decided to spend the night after all.  Fuck, I don’t want to tell her about this shit. We are getting to a good place. This whore isn’t going to fuck it up for us. Getting into the shower, I start my day early. I need to swing over to Grant’s and see if he has Baby’s computer fixed. We need to finish inventory and I need to get back to work on my next build job. The longer the garage is closed the less money I make.

Baby

I am over at the Roadhouse hanging out with my sister as she tends the bar, while I wait for Grant to drop off my computer at the garage. He told Striker he’d bring it over by late afternoon. I wasn’t planning on working this evening but I am ready to finish up the spreadsheets so I can send them over to our accountant. Our quarterly taxes are up for review, I think we have been paying in too much.

Colt is gone for the day with Sunshine anyway; she took him with her to visit her half-sister in Ohio. Knowing her they will end up staying a day or two. I will miss my little man, but this gives me some time to clear my head. I love being with Striker but I am just so afraid we are setting ourselves up for disaster.

The sex is great but is that all we have? My thoughts are interrupted by that skank ho, making her way the bar to get her newest fuck buddy a drink, she takes a stool right next to mine. “We seem to be seeing a lot of each other lately.” She grins challenging me to lose my cool. Her nose is  still swollen from our last exchange. Rumor is eyeing me curiously. I shake my head at her, I’ll explain later. Now is not the time

“The other night wasn’t enough of a warning for you. This bar top is a lot harder, than that post. Wanna, find out just how durable it is, bitch?”  I pet the back of her head with my nails, ready to slam her face first into the hardwood, if she even looks at me funny.

Carl an old friend of the club yells for Diamond to bring his beer. I let her walk away for now. I don’t know what it is about this cum-stained whore, but I don’t trust her at all. She is trying to provoke me, but why is the question of the hour. I watch her as she settles down beside of Liberty and Tread. When did they become such pals?

Rumor smacks her hands down loudly on the counter, “Want to tell me what in the hell all of this is about?” She gestures from me to the table where cum-whore sits.

“She has been sniffing around Striker and I don’t like it.” I motion.

“And why is that, what am I missing? Are you fucking him?” She looks at me with an I told you so expression on her face, looking all smug.

“We are seeing how things progress.” 

She widens her eyes and her brow knits, wanting more information. “Fine we are seeing each other; we are trying to work through our shit. Don’t make a big deal out of it. I just don’t want anyone to know in case it doesn’t work out.” I snap at her.

“Fine, but what does this mean for Colt, are you letting Striker be a father? And have you told Grim yet? Never mind Striker still has his legs so dad doesn’t know yet. Awkward.”  She shakes her head and wipes the counter down.

“Yes, Colt will know Striker is his D-A-D. I just want to take it slow, see where we stand as couple before I go making any announcements, ya know.”  I enlighten her.

“I guess, but don’t wait too long; you guys deserve to be happy together. Oh we could have a double wedding!” She exclaims, a light bulb going off in her head. “It could so work, all we’d have to do is get him to ask you!”

“Hold, up, pump those wedding bell brakes. I am not ready for that and I don’t think Striker is either.” I clarify before she gets a wild hair up her ass and starts planning.

“You don’t see the way he looks at you. I have watched him pine for you this past year, he’s got it bad. That man loves you so much; I know he would do anything for you. Can’t you see it?”

“Well last night was, pretty amazing. Though my twat hurts.”

“Eww, I hate that word.” She scrunches up her nose.

“What twat, you are so lame. Say is sister, twat.”

“What’s all this talk about twats,” Striker settles onto the seat next to mine, squeezing the top of my thigh.

“Baby just told me how you ravished her twat last night.” Rumor sticks her tongue out at me, sliding him a beer across the counter.

“Ah, very funny. Real cute.” I scoff, faking offense.

Rumor winks at me heading back into the kitchen to help the potentials with their orders. On days we are short handed the potential members get even more of the grunt work than normal.

“Trading stories about me are you;” Striker nuzzles his stubble across my cheek.

“Glad to see you two getting along.” My father gloats seeing that he was right in putting me over the garage.

“Something like that.” I smile at him.

‘The computer is fixed and waiting in your office.” Striker tops off his beer and heads out fast.

“Anything you want to tell me?” My father asks looking fucking proud of himself.

“Not really.” I shrug nonchalantly.

“Striker the reason you’ve been smiling so much this week?” His voice has taken a serious tone.

“We have come to an appreciative agreement you could say.” I try not to smile thinking about how much things have taken a turn for the better this week.

“I take it Striker’s place is where you have been sneaking off to huh?” He rubs his chin.

“Do you really want to talk about this?” I ask hoping he says no.

“You are still my little girl, don’t care if you are grown or think that you don’t need your old man looking out for you. But I just need to know, if I need to have a serious conversation with Striker about the rules.” I don’t want him to hurt Striker, I know it is the way they do shit, but I will prevent it as long as I can.

“Club business not my place old man, but no. If and when that becomes an issue, I’ll talk to you about it.” I kiss him on the cheek and say goodbye, heading back to the garage. I’ve never been so eager to crunch spreadsheet numbers.

**

I am plugging away in the office and Striker is out in the garage doing his thing. I can’t stop myself from stealing glances out the door at him. He looks so freaking hot. His shirt is wet with sweat clinging to his arms showing off his muscles. He is back to wearing his glasses that Colt broke, well that I smashed the other day. The past week has been amazing. He catches my gawking at him and comes my way, wiping the sweat from his forehead with a towel.

“Eyes on the screen, hands on the keyboard, sweetheart. You aren’t going to get out of here anytime soon staring at my ass all evening.”

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