Tread: Biker Romance (Ronin MC Series Book 1) (28 page)

I wanted to shout that I wasn’t Ronin. Not in the way these women had grown up, or done things their whole lives. I was a fraud, a transplant that was barely taking as it was.

Lola walked back in, her arms filled with shotguns and rifles, her face solemn.

“He is sure, Lola?” Veesa asked severely. Lola nodded, her beehive shivering for the first time since I’d known her. She dumped the guns onto the table next to the Christmas tree then walked back out.

“Let me get the ’munition.”

Veesa reached for a shotgun and handed it to me silently. I swallowed past the boulder in my throat and took it, automatically checking to see if it was loaded. The chambers were clear.

“Here, everyone put on these vests,” Lola said, struggling to hand me one. I almost stumbled backwards at the weight, and followed Marley’s lead as she slipped it over her head and tightened the Velcro straps. Forty pounds of lead made it even harder to breathe, but I didn’t complain. I wanted a full suit of armor a la Ironman right about now.

“Harvey said we have about ten minutes from when they left the second camera ’til the mules get to us.”

“We can’t just leave? Get in the car and drive away? Why can’t we drive away?” I asked shrilly, feeling like I was about to pass out from fear.

Lola shook her head, loading magazines into the pockets of her vest. “He said it would be easy. Nothin’ to it. They’re rarely armed in such small groups. We take the packs and turn them around. Send ’em on their way. Stash the packs in the usual place.”

“Where’s the usual place?” I asked, looking to Tatum. She shrugged and cocked her shotgun.

“We’re takin’ it with us. We’ll load the packs first, put the trash on top. I’ll worry about gettin’ it where it needs to go.” Lola looked at us, her usually bright face seeming to age before our eyes. “You shoot first, ask questions later. Any sudden moves and you don’t hesitate.”

I looked around wildly. “Are we seriously talking about killing people? Are you all out of your fucking minds?”

Marley cleared her throat. “Grace, if they’re coming on us, they could break into the trailer. One good kick and we’re sittin’ ducks to a group of men and women who’ve walked days in the desert with drugs on their backs. This is as desperate as people get. If we have to do it, then it’s gotta be done.”

“We need to get outside. Grace and Tatum, you stay with me. Marley, go with Lola. We’ll take the truck. You two move around to the back of the house. They’ll get to you first.” Veesa walked out the door, Tatum behind her. Lola pushed my back and I stumbled into the darkness.

We took position and waited. And waited. Frost was collecting on the windshield. The only sound I could hear was my pulse beating in my ears. But as the temperature fell below freezing, drops of sweat fell from my forehead and between my breasts. I wiped my palms on my thighs when the heavy gun started to slip.

“Parar, soltar su arma!” Lola’s voice rang out, starling me so bad my gun clanked against the truck. Tatum and Veesa turned equally deadly glares in my direction. I closed my eyes and shook my head.

I needed to buck up or I was going to get us all dead.

Shaking my head, I pulled the bulletproof vest down so that it didn’t choke me then inched forward. Lola yelled more Spanish and suddenly Veesa bolted from behind the truck. Tatum quickly followed, and I brought up the rear.

Lola and Veesa were the only ones with flashlights and quickly shot the light in each of the Mexicans’ eyes. As they staggered around and rubbed them, I quickly realized they were ruining their night vision.

The men stood firmly as the women fidgeted. Veesa yelled again and forcibly pulled the strap off a woman’s shoulders.

The woman immediately started pleading, speaking rapidly in her language. I swallowed thickly and tried to keep my gun trained steadily on the people nearest me.

“Pull the packs off, Grace. They’re worried about their bosses knowing they surrendered. It will go easier for them if they’re forced,” Veesa said quickly.

As I stepped closer to the man in front of me, I had to drop the gun slightly. The barrel was just too long.

It took about two seconds for the guy to grab the shotgun and yank it out of my hands. I was tossed to the ground, the lead plates in my vest digging into my hipbone sharply.

I kicked out blindly then screamed when weight depressed all of the air in my lungs. My legs were pinned. I opened my eyes expecting to see a starry night. What I focused on was an enraged drug mule, his pack still on his back.

He gritted his teeth and pushed the stock of the gun down on my throat.

Black spots and starbursts filled my vision like a graphics effect. I tried to roll blindly as my chest seemed to ignite with the need for oxygen.

The bulge of my handgun holster was cutting into my other side. I would have matching bruises, if I lived. I rocked again, trying to force the gun away from my neck, but the man was bracing his whole body on top of my much smaller frame.

Then he was gone and it was raining.

My ears immediately started ringing and the stars were back. Most importantly, my throat was clear. I sucked in what felt like shards of glass until I was on the verge of hyperventilating, yet didn’t stop. I had never been more aware of the need for air to live as I was then.

Tatum grabbed the vest under my chin and yanked me upright. I wobbled, almost falling to an elbow, but there was a puddle from the rain.

Wait. My eyes fixated on the small pool of water. I followed the tiny river to its source, up the hills and valleys of a chest and shoulder, and screamed.

There was no face.

My stomach cramped violently and I puked all over the man’s arm. Scrambling back, I started making keening noises like some lost animal.

A hand grabbed my jaw roughly and forced my eyes away from the body. I made out Tatum’s face. Her mouth was moving, but I was still deaf.

My jaw was released seconds before my head rocked to the side with the force of Tatum’s palm against my cheek. Like I had descended from high above, my ears popped.

It was chaos.

Everyone was talking over each other. The mules were either angry or scared. Our side was equally agitated. Everyone was speaking Spanish and I couldn’t understand a word.

“You good, Gracie?” I nodded my head frantically, not liking her back turned on the mules. She searched my face, probably assessing my level of insanity before sliding the gun back to me. “You stay back and cover me while I get the packs off, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay,” I mumbled, feeling a sliver more together with the cold steel in my hands. I winced as I swallowed, the feeling of glass making my throat feel swollen and hot.

Tatum was the smallest, but she was quick. She got three packs off almost before the first hit the ground with a muted thud.

When the only other man in the group started to turn towards her when she reached him, I took a step closer before my brain had said to move. “Hey! Don’t you look at her!” My voice sounded like I had a two pack a day smoking habit.

Marley and Lola swung their guns to the man, while Veesa looked as unruffled as she did standing in her kitchen.

Tatum quickly dropped the rest of the large square packs then gave them a wide birth back to their fronts.

Veesa gestured with her head back to the fence less than a football field’s length away, shooing them off in Spanish. You couldn’t actually see the gate, but we walked with them until they slipped through a cut in the fence.

“Shit, we’re gonna have to fix the hole, can’t leave it like this. I’ll go see what we got in the trailer.” Lola walked off, seemingly without a care in the world. I joined the three other women and we watched the mules walk away from the gate. I felt slightly exposed when the first faded into the black night, like maybe they were going to circle around and come at us from another angle.

Then the man and one of the women turned to us, their eyes hard as they absorbed our features with their glare.

I turned to Tatum. “You saved—”

“Here it is. We’re gonna zip-tie it shut for now. I’ll let Harvey know as soon as he gets back so that they can fix it properly. Marley, Grace, you girls get those packs loaded in the back then put the trash on top,” Lola ordered, squatting down with a fist full of plastic ties.

“I will bury the body,” Veesa said quietly.

“No, Mama, I will do it,” Tatum argued.

Lola stood up from her crouch. “Nobody’s burying anything. The boys’ll be home tomorrow. We’ll take it with us.”

“What?” I asked loudly. “Why are we taking it? I’ll dig a hole myself.” Just thinking about riding home with a body in the back had me shuddering violently.

Veesa stepped forward. “Grace, Lola’s right. I should have thought about the Border Patrol driving by here. They’ll notice freshly turned earth, and we’ll go to jail.”

“What about putting it over the fence? That’s Mexico.”

Veesa rolled her eyes and scoffed impatiently. “There’s only twenty feet of road and cut fence separating Ronin land from Mexico. Who do you think they would look to first?”

I bit my lip and followed behind the others back to the truck. “I don’t suppose calling the police is an option, is it?”

The glares that were shot over their shoulders answered that question.

I DIDN’T KNOW ABOUT THE
others, but I didn’t breathe until the sun came up. Once we loaded the truck the night before, we pulled away just as the BP headlights lit the patrol road. Lola waved like we were out on a Sunday stroll passing the church or something.

Veesa and Lola dropped us off at the saloon before leaving to stash the cargo. I walked to the driver’s side of Tread’s classic Corvette, but hesitated to open the door. When I looked over my shoulder, Marley and Tatum had yet to get in their cars, either. We all silently eyed each other on the street, a town gone to sleep.

Marley jingled her keys in her hands a few times before looking to each of us. “Come on ladies. Let’s have us an old fashioned slumber party.”

I tried to keep my exhale of relief from being too obvious, but Tatum seemed to shrink into herself as we watched her. “My house, then.”

“I have to get Bella,” I said uncomfortably, the thought of walking into an empty house as appealing as lifting up the corpse was an hour ago.

“We’ll stop on the way. Hurry up, Grace needs a shower.” Tatum was the first to open her door and take off down the street, but she braked at the stoplight long after it had turned green, waiting for us.

I slid into the low car, the leather creaking against my shoulders and thighs as I pushed down on the clutch and turned on the ignition. I looked in the rearview mirror, catching the top of my forehead in the streetlight. Seeing black dots on my skin, I leaned closer.

The hair on my arms stood up and my skin seemed to literally try to crawl off bone and muscle as I realized that I was covered in blood. I straightened to get a better look, and about had a heart attack when a horn honked beside me.

Marley’s face was solemn as she met my startled gaze, her eyes never leaving mine to search for the bits of human being splattered across my face.

I exhaled out of my mouth as my brain tried to convince me I could smell brain Jell-O on my cheek.

I barely made it to my house, and certainly didn’t make it farther than throwing a door open, to vomit whatever was left in my stomach onto the paved driveway, with my seatbelt still on.

Tatum took my keys and opened the door while Marley pushed me through and down the hall. I used a whole bottle of body wash and shampoo and could still feel grit on my scalp. I had visions of bone ground to sand.

The girls didn’t give me any time, and my hair was still wet when we pulled up to Tatum’s house to the comfort of her baying dogs. We would be safe there.

None of us spoke as we piled into Tatum’s queen size bed and stared into the dawning sunlight together.

When I opened my eyes the next morning, I knew it was late before I could locate the alarm clock. I walked into the kitchen and Tatum was at the stove, and Marley was sitting at the little breakfast table.

“Morning, did we sleep for a whole day?,” I asked, mumbling.

“Hey.  Yeah, we did.  I heard Tatum get up a few times though,” Marley said, sliding her coffee cup towards my hands.

I took a deep breath. “Tatum—”

“We should get dressed and head in. Marley’s already missed her first two classes. Mom’s been calling. Lola and her want to check on us in person.” She walked out of the room.

Marley took the half-empty cup from my hands and walked to the coffee pot. “She’s not gonna talk about what happened unless you corner her. Think hard if you really want to do that.”

After stopping by my house again, we got to the saloon, and Veesa had a feast prepared. “Sit, sit. I have to feed you.”

“Mom, we’re fine,” Tatum protested. “We just ate.”

“You sit and eat my food. I have to feed you.” Veesa bustled around, piling our plates high. Lola came in minutes later looking no less done up than any other day.

“How’d y’all sleep last night?” Lola asked, snagging a strip of bacon from Marley’s plate. I watched it disappear under the table and shot her a glare. She shrugged half-heartedly then looked away.

“We’re just fine, Lola. Have you heard from Harvey?”

“Nah.” She waved a long manicured hand in the air. “He’ll be home today and everything’ll be fine.” She looked to me. “How’s your neck, honey?”

I touched the scarf Marley made me wear and felt the tender, bruised flesh underneath. “I’m fine, Lola. No permanent damage.” I swore to myself that I wasn’t going to lose my shit. I was an old lady. I was tough, dang it.

“What’s everyone doing today?” Lola asked brightly.

“I think I’ll make arroz con pollo for dinner tonight. I want one of the fresh chickens from Delmar’s farm, too. We will eat here at six, yes?” Veesa said as she started to load the industrial dishwasher.

“Not tonight, Mama. I just want to go to sleep.” Tatum sighed and moved her food around the plate.

“Sleep? You just woke up. You have to eat, and I will feed you. Six o’clock, Mija,” Veesa demanded, her eyes full of worry as she watched her daughter.

“Fine.” Tatum scraped her plate, handed the dishes to her mom, and then walked away.

“Guess I’m going out to the garage,” Marley murmured.

“Go after her, honey,” Lola said with a pat to my hand. “Get this mess out of the way. I’ll steer clear until you’re done.”

I hurried to run after Tatum, knowing she was going to try to leave the building. Probably lock herself away with her dogs. Bella’s tags jangled together as she trotted behind me. When I walked around the bar, Tatum already had her head back, downing a shot.

I swallowed and pulled up a seat. “Can you give me one of those, too?” I asked, already knowing it was going to kill my throat. I flipped the condiment tray open and grabbed an olive, stuffing Bella’s allergy pill into it. Tatum let the shot glass drop on the bar with a crack almost as loud as the gunshot last night.

She glared at me and filled my glass before refilling her own. “What do you want, Grace?” she asked hastily.

I sighed. “I just wanted to say thank you for what you did last night.” I gritted my teeth and swallowed the shot, coughing as the burn went down.

Tatum swallowed hers without even a grimace. “Had to be done.”

“I know, but—”

“Listen, I don’t want your thanks, okay? Just forget it happened,” she said.

I would never forget what happened. Something changed in me last night. Knowing there was a body stuffed somewhere decomposing because I made a rookie mistake and put the burden on her was eating at me. “I want to train in more hand-to-hand,” I said abruptly. Tatum eyed me warily. “So that I know what to do next time. I know it was my fault.”

“Things like that come with experience. I might have done the same thing.”

“No, you wouldn’t have,” I said with certainty. “You all know how to do this and I’m putting you in danger. If I’m going to live this life, I need to be prepared.”

“And are you staying? Last I heard you were waiting on a ride out, and just biding your time in Tread’s bed,” she said nastily.

“I care about your brother more than you know. When I think about leaving here, I feel empty. I may not understand the whole of what Ronin is, but I know to take pride in being a part of it.”

She shifted on her feet uncomfortably. “Yeah, well, it used to be that way. Seems like the whole lot is going to shit these days.”

“When Kit comes back—”

“Is Kit coming back?” she fired back instantly.

“I don’t know. I hope so. It doesn’t seem like Royal’s going to give up.” My phone burned a hole in my purse, and I reached for it, pressing the button to light up the screen without taking it out. No new messages. Oh how I wanted to talk to her about what happened, even if I knew I would never tell her over text. I grabbed the GPS watch from my bag when I saw it to cover up looking at the phone. “Here.”

Tatum took the black gadget from my hand and flipped it over. “How does it work?”

I walked around the bar. “It’s a touch screen, I think. No buttons.” Bella stayed under my stool, already sleeping off her medication. I watched Tatum bring the device to life and started pressing each icon individually. I felt like maybe we had a fragile truce of sorts.

“This is pretty badass. Lonny never had anything like it,” Tatum admitted grudgingly.

“Tread seemed pretty excited over it.”

“Geeked out, did he?” she asked with a sparkle in her eyes I hadn’t seen since last night.

“Totally geeked out.” I laughed, and she even chuckled at the mental image.

The front door creaked open on its hinges, bringing both of our heads-up. Three men walked in, their boots clicking on the aged hardwood floor. They were in business suits, and looked wholly out of place in an old western bar in southern New Mexico.

“Can I help you?” I asked politely. Tatum dropped her hand, shoving the GPS tracker down the back of my pants before touching the holster next to it. I felt the hair on my neck stand on end. What was she doing?

“We’re closed until dinner. You should come back around four,” Tatum said, watching the men walk with an easy stroll, as if they had all the time in the world.

“Looks like you’re serving right now,” the man to the side said in a thick Spanish accent, pointing to the shot glasses and opened bottle of Fireball. His hair glared as the sun hit it, where it was slicked back with product.

“It’s our bar,” she said stubbornly, leaning against me slightly. What did she want me do to?

The second man pulled up a stool, the legs scraping across the floor loudly. “That’s a pretty scarf you’ve got there,” he said with a half-smile, pointing to my neck.

My hands flew to the black and white herringbone material, checking to make sure it was still covering my bruises. “Thanks.”

“Do you happen to know where the owner of this establishment might be?” the first man asked. The third man walked to the side of the bar and I fought to keep my eyes on the first.

“Sure, that’d be Harvey. I’ll call him for you. Grace, why don’t you see if he’s in the back still?” Tatum said, pushing me towards the swinging door. Something wasn’t right. Not at all. And Tatum was trying to protect me again.

“Yeah, I think he’s still back there. The rest are in the garage.” I walked with purpose, my eyes locked on the swinging door like it was the salvation it was. If I could get behind it, I could at least pull my gun and get Veesa, but I wasn’t leaving Tatum alone. She would have to come with me.

“You might as well not call, I think he’s in the back. I’ll check the kitchen while you check the garage?” My eyes darted from one man to the next. I was an arm’s length away from the door. I could just see the empty kitchen beyond when the path was blocked. The third man stood in my way. “Excuse me, sir.”

He smiled, his dark skin folding in on itself, giving away his age. I watched with growing alarm as he unbuttoned his suit jacket. “I don’t think so, mamasita.” Old wrinkled hands covered the butts of two pistols in shoulder holsters under his arms.

I looked behind me. Tatum had her back to me, facing off with the other two men who had worked their way to the side. We were all in a five square foot space.

“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice shaking violently.

“Well, you see, chica, someone took some things of mine, and a man is missing. Where I’m from, that just isn’t acceptable,” he said with a smile on his face.

Holy donkey shit. The blood drained from my face, and I swayed, feeling light headed. I backed up into Tatum and felt her shoulders shake.

“What do you want?” she asked bravely.

“We found the cut fence. We found the trailer our friends told us about. Cute Christmas tree, by the way. What we didn’t find was our missing man, and our property. Since the land is Ronin’s property, now we’re going to take what’s theirs.”

The third man lunged before I could react, and a white cloth was placed over my face before I could make a sound. My next breath was filled with a peculiar scent as my head cracked with the back of Tatum’s. Then the world faded to black.