(Club Chrome MC 2) All Dogs Bite (16 page)

Hunter swore under his breath, agreeing but only after tacking on a terse stipulation of his own, “I’m not fucking sitting down to dinner with him and that’s final.”

Okay. Fair enough. She’d work on that. For now, she’d take what she could get. She smiled at Hunter and pulled him into her embrace, sealing the agreement with the sweetest weapon in her feminine arsenal. “You’re a good man,” she murmured, even as her hand cupped his cock nestled within his jeans. “But so tense…maybe a little something to relax you is in order…”

And then she practically led them both by their cocks straight to the bedroom.

-13-

Pyro flicked his lighter, watching the flame dance as the small stream flared before he snapped the lid shut, extinguishing the heat, only to flick it again. Fire was beautiful, simple in its ability to give life or take it. He loved watching it burn and in fact, his fingers bore the scars of one too many close encounters but he didn’t care. Chicks dig scars, right? Speaking of chicks, Randy flopped into the chair opposite him with a grin, saying, “I heard you were tearing it up last night…poor Donna’s never gonna be the same, yeah?”

He ignored Randy’s leer until the man dropped it with an apologetic mumble and then watching the crowd filter in and out of the dive bar, kept an eye out for anything out of the ordinary. The thing was, someone had a taste for blood and it was up to him to figure out who. He owed Bronx a peculiar debt but one he honored with every breath in his body. As luck would have it, Randy was feeling chatty.

“So…uh, yeah, word out there is that Bronx is alive. Crazy, huh? Our fearless leader must be bullet proof,” Randy said, signaling the busty waitress, Peaches, for a beer. Peaches, an older woman who was hard as nails and could land a punch that would rattle your incisors, was nothing like her name implied but Pyro liked her. He respected women who didn’t take no shit. Plus Peaches had been around for as long as he could remember. Peaches approached, wiping her hands on her dirty apron, her flinty gaze going to Randy with obvious annoyance when he had the stupidity to pinch her broad backside with a wink. “Hey there, big mama…how about something to wet my whistle?”

Peaches smiled and leaned forward so that her tits practically smothered Randy and said, “Why don’t you go fuck yourself with a chainsaw?”

“Damn, Peaches,” Randy whined with a petulant expression. “Why you gotta go bust my balls like that?”

“Because I don’t like your face and I definitely don’t like the way you smell.” Straightening, she looked to Pyro, “What’s it gonna be?”

“Whatever you got on tap,” Pyro answered with a shrug. “Surprise me.”

“Oh, I’ll surprise you, babe, but you might not be up to what I can put in your glass,” she shot back with a saucy grin. To Randy, she said, “You’ll get whatever you get. And stop acting like you’re some badass ‘cuz you’re anything but.”

Peaches walked away and Randy found his balls to mutter, “Why’s she such a bitch. What crawled up her cunt and died? Fuck.”

Pyro laughed. “Careful, Randy. She’s got the ears of a bat. You don’t want to land on the bad side of that woman. She can kick your ass.”

Randy looked uneasy, as if he feared that actually happening and returned to Pyro, asking, “Why she so sweet on you?”

“Because I have a healthy respect for a woman who outweighs me and is a better shot. If you were smart, you would, too. But then, we all know, you ain’t smart.”

Randy cast Pyro a sour look before saying, “Look, so has Bronx contacted you or anything?”

“You seem pretty interested in Bronx’s business. What’s that about, Randy?”

Randy flushed. “Nothing. I mean, he is our leader. Don’t it make sense to want to know what’s going on? Talk is getting rowdy out there.”

“Yeah? Who’s getting antsy?”

Backed into a corner, Randy had no choice but to throw out a name. “Well, for starters, Grady, you know him and Bronx butt heads and if Bronx isn’t around, Grady is ready to take his place. I ain’t telling you nothing that you don’t already know.”

“Well, if Grady thinks he has the balls to lead the gang, then maybe he should’ve made a move when Bronx was here to defend himself instead of waiting until he was gone. Now he just looks like a punk ass bitch. Unless, you’re not speaking on Grady’s behalf and this is your own speculation.”

Randy managed a nervous laugh. “Jesus, man…whose side you on? I’m just sharing information, that’s all. You can do with it what you want.”

“Thanks. I’ll do that.”

Randy looked uncomfortable as fuck and when Peaches returned with the beer, he threw down some cash for both their drinks and scuttled out of his chair with some mumbled excuse. Pyro lifted his mug in thanks and then took a deep swig.

“He’s always reminded me of a chihuahua,” Peaches remarked, hand on generous hip as she watched Randy melt into the raucous crowd. “So what’s he really up to? You can’t trust small dogs — they’re the biters.”

“Amen to that, Peaches,” Pyro said with a nod and Peaches left him to his drink.

So Randy was definitely antsy, something was nipping at his ass to make him all jumpy and weird, which demanded a second look. But contrary to what Randy would have him believe, Pyro didn’t think it was Grady stirring up trouble. It was true Grady and Bronx weren’t the best of buds but Grady wasn’t stupid and he knew he didn’t have the full support of the club to do a take-over, even if Bronx wasn’t around. So who else was Randy kicking it with? He was midway through his beer when Monica sauntered up to his table, a mean look on her painted face.

“Where is he?” she demanded, her jaw set in an angry clench as her long, dangling earrings swung wildly. “Where the fuck is he, Pyro? I know you know.”

“Calm the fuck down, Monica,” he told her, irritated by the way she was making a scene. “What makes you think I know where Bronx is?”

“Because you and him are thick as thieves that’s why. He came by the house, let me give him a blow job and then split like he couldn’t get out fast enough. Some thanks, huh? He’s a rotten sonofabitch and I want him to know that he can’t treat me like that.”

“I didn’t realize you were so lonely,” Pyro said, shrugging. “Last I heard you were taking Yolo’s cock down your throat. Didn’t seem to miss Bronx at all.”

Monica, clearly shocked at being found out, dropped her mouth open on a protest but then thought better of it because Pyro wasn’t known for his appetite for bullshit. “Fine,” she spat. “I’ve been spending time with Yolo but so what? What’s Bronx doing? Or more specifically,
who’s
Bronx doing, huh? He’s a slut whoremonger so don’t go judging me.”

“No one is judging you Monica, at least not at this table,” Pyro assured her with a chuckle but reminded her, “You’re the one who came in here all full of piss and vinegar. To answer your question, I don’t know where Bronx is and that’s probably a good thing because someone tried to kill him. He’s laying low for a good reason, wouldn’t you say?”

Monica licked her lips, thinking, then nodded reluctantly. “Ain’t nothing that’s gonna take Bronx down, the mean sonofabitch,” she said. “I feel bad for whoever thought to try. He’s gonna have their balls for lunch.”

“More than likely,” Pyro agreed, watching her with interest. Her fingernails were bitten to the quick, but then, Monica had a drug problem so who knew if she was biting her nails because of a guilty conscience or because she was high as a kite. “If I see him, I’ll let him know that you miss him.”

“Okay,” Monica said, pursing her lips as if weighing her options, then pleaded, “Please don’t tell him about Yolo, okay? He’s nothing to me, not like Bronx. But a girl gets lonely, yeah?You know how it is, right?”

He’d remain alone for all of eternity if it meant the alternative was fucking with Monica. That woman’d been ridden more times than the New York subway. He preferred his fuck buddies to be less…
communal
. Not that he was spending quality time with much of anyone these days. Hell, he was downright celibate at this point. Contrary to whatever Donna was saying to people, he hadn’t fucked anyone in close to a year. Donna had been trying to get him into bed for months, but it wasn’t going to happen. It wasn’t that he didn’t get urges — fuck, his cock was rock hard every damn night, just aching for some soft, sweet flesh to sink into — but penance wasn’t supposed to be a cakewalk, right?

Enough of your own shit
, a voice said as he downed his beer and scanned the bar, listening to conversations and watching body language. Someone out there was playing a zero-sum game and he had to find out who before they tried putting Bronx down for good this time.

Wasn’t going to happen on his watch. That’s all he knew.

***

Bronx stared at Delainey as if she’d grown another head. “What the fuck are you saying? Meet up with those punks, Jax and Hunter? Are you nuts?”

“Oh stop being such a poop.” Delainey scowled, not the least bit put off by his equally ferocious glare at her suggestion. “Here’s the deal. Jax and Hunter…they have something that might help put those terrible people behind bars.”

“Yeah? Like what? A signed confession admitting that they’re sadistic pedos hiding behind a white picket fence and a good credit score?”

“Even better — video footage.”

He knew those freaks had filmed their escapades because he’d seen the camera set up that night but they were also careful not to get their faces on film. He shook his head. “Even if Jax and Hunter managed to get a hold of their stash of pedo home movies, it’s going to be impossible to identify them because they always made sure their faces weren’t shown.”

“I’m not talking about their footage…I’m talking about footage that was taken without their knowledge.”

Bronx did a double-take. “What are you talking about?”

“Zoe told me that when she talked to her guys they admitted that they’d caught video footage of Georgie and Mother Millie during one of their special times with a kid.”

“Fuck me,” he breathed, sinking into the chair, feeling as if someone had just kicked his knees out from under him. “Footage? Are you serious? How?”

“I don’t know the details, only that they have it. That evidence coupled with your testimony and Jax and Hunter’s, should be enough to open the case, especially when they discover the kid in the video…it was Gage.”

Now he felt sick. That young face, seared into his memory, nearly made him gag. “They fucking video taped them doing that shit to the kid? What the fuck?” It was so wrong and yet, he knew it was pretty smart of them, too. Cutthroat, even. He had to respect that. “Are they sure it’s Gage?”

“Well, that’s the name of the kid they remembered. But seeing as Gage’s death was classified as accidental all those years ago, this evidence will be enough to reopen the case as well as start a new criminal case.”

He’d never truly known Gage, the kid had been quiet and mouse-like, timid. Afraid of his own damn shadow. Not that Bronx blamed him. And he’d died just as quietly as he’d lived, thanks to those sick freaks. He wasn’t particularly big on advocacy, hell, his heart was pretty sharp and jagged most days, but there’d been something about seeing the terror and misery in that kid’s eyes, even through that tiny slit of the open door that’d stuck like glue in Bronx’s mind. But why did it have to be Jax and Hunter? For Christ’s sake, couldn’t he get away from those assholes? He felt the weight of Delainey’s stare and he knew he had no choice but to agree. However, he didn’t have to like it. “Fine,” he bit out, glaring when Delainey made a happy little squealing noise that if he hadn’t been so pissed off, he might’ve found really cute and warned, “Don’t be surprised if this meeting doesn’t go all smooth and nice. We don’t like each other and we never will.” Delainey nodded but there was something decidedly cunning in her expression that he didn’t trust in the least. “I mean it, Dee. Don’t try and make us buddies or something just because we’re working together on this one thing.”

“Right,” she said, nodding. “I kind of took the liberty of assuming you’d do the right thing and made arrangements with Zoe and her guys. We’re going to the police station in half an hour. Did you want to freshen up before we go?”

He wanted to be angry with her for being presumptuous but he wasn’t. Delainey had a way of disarming his most ingrained knee-jerk reactions and he didn’t know what to think of that. All he knew was that he’d better tighten his bootstraps because he was about to do two things he’d never willfully do: a). Meet with up Jax and Hunter; b). Walk into a police station to report a crime. What was his world coming to? He sighed and said, “Grab your jacket. We’re taking my bike” and then pocketed his keys as he walked out the door.

-14-

Delainey wrapped her arms around Bronx and held on tight as they pulled out onto the road. The helmet was probably smashing her hair to her head but she didn’t care. Her smile stretched from ear to ear, loving the feel of the bike between her legs and her arms around her man. A sigh of total longing threatened to drift from her lips as she realized she was going to have a heck of a time letting go of Bronx.

It was completely crazy but in the short time they’d been together, she couldn’t imagine her life with anyone else. Was this normal? Maybe not but in her secret heart of hearts, she was a hopeless romantic. She wanted to believe in love at first sight and she wanted to believe that soul mates existed. And she desperately wanted Bronx to be that person for her. She knew he wasn’t perfect, heck, he was probably as far from perfect as one could get but that didn’t stop her heart from fluttering like a drunken butterfly whenever he looked her way. And even though he fought it, she had the sneaking suspicion that Bronx felt something for her, too.

She could tell by the way he touched her and by the way his gaze lingered that she was more than just a convenient good time. At least she hoped she wasn’t just projecting her hopes onto the situation and only seeing what she wanted to see. She tightened her grip around his chest and smiled against his leather jacket. There was no way to deny her man was hot. As in HAWT.