Devil on Your Back (18 page)

“Come on,” I urge. “You know as well as I do that you could get anyone to do the jobs I do every day.”

“Would ‘anyone’ make sure that Jumbo eats only what the dietician has prescribed for him?”

“Maybe.” I chase a stray grain of salt across the Formica tabletop with my fingernail.

“Or that Callum’s niece always has a girly story-book or two to read when she visits?”

“If you asked them to, they might.”

“So you’re saying that any old person, Joe Bloggs off the street, would pander to my OCD and make sure all the toiletries in my bathroom are lined up according to size?”

I chuckle. “You are pretty weird about that.”

“Do you get my point?” he asks softly.

Vince catches my eye and smiles. I take a steadying breath, and answer, “I think so.”

“You’re more than a housekeeper,” King assures me. “You mean a lot to this place, Sonya, and I know there are a lot of people who’d say the same. Now, hand me back over.”

I pass the phone back to Vince, and finish off my salad as he ties up the call. I know what King was trying to say—that I have my personal touch, the little things I do over and above my requirements—but I still can’t shake the feeling it’s not enough.

That I’m meant to be more.

• • • • •

WE’RE BARELY
on the road another half hour before Vince is pulling off into a tree-lined rest area. He brings the bike to a stop and nudges me to get off. I do as I’m told, and stand back while I pull my helmet off and loosen my jacket.

“What’s wrong?” I ask as he gets off with a frustrated frown in place.

He sets his helmet down and advances toward me. “This.”

His hands capture my face, his lips capture my mouth, and his need captures my heart.

I soften into his hold as he kisses me fervently, his palms firm against my cheeks. Breaking free, he holds me tight whilst looking into my eyes.

“I’ve been trying to ignore it, but seeing you waiting on my bike for me after lunch . . .”

I smile; I knew that the sight of me perched on the back of the Triumph as he returned from using the bathroom himself would have driven him crazy. I
may have
purposefully lengthened my leg just so, and I
may have
let my hair hang loose over my shoulder for a reason.

He resumes kissing me, walking us backwards until my legs find the seat part of a picnic table. Still kissing, I feel out the table with my foot and clamber up so I’m sitting on the top of it with him standing in front of me. I shrug out of my jacket and toss it aside. My hands then fumble over his belt, making quick work of the buckle, and pulling his jeans out of the way.

The rest area is wide, and open, but at this moment in time we could be in the middle of a football field and I’d still do the same. My desire and focus are squarely with him—nothing else matters, least of all the chance of getting caught.

Vince steps back to tug my denim off and I let my eyes rest on his ready erection, which sits proud against his belly, the tip swollen and needing. My tongue sweeps across my lips, and his eyes darken.

“Sonya . . .”

“Just one taste,” I plead.

He nods quickly, and I slip roughly down so my ass is now on the seat of the table. Vince reaches out, tugging my shirt off before he moves forward. I bring a hand to the base of his shaft, guiding his length from his boxers and into my waiting mouth.

He groans, and fists his hands in my hair as I work him, pulling, licking, sucking until he’s harder than rock, and ready to explode. I take the quiver in his thigh as my cue and slip between us to reseat myself on top of the table.

Vince takes my mouth with his, obviously unperturbed by the taste of himself on me—I like it. Hooking a heel behind his leg, I urge him closer, and groan as he pushes inside my needy pussy. We move together, Vince laying me down, and I reach above my head to find stability by holding onto the far side of the table.

The mid-afternoon sun beats down over us as he rocks into me, pushing hard and brutal, exactly how I’ve come to expect it with him. Certain I’ll end up with splinters if we carry on like this much longer, I nudge him off and reposition myself.

He grumbles as I kneel on the seat, and lean over the table, holding the far side again. Rough fingers unclasp my bra, and he cups my breasts in his hands, flicking the nipples as I shrug the straps off my arms. His knee knocks my legs wider, and he moves between my thighs to thrust deep once more. I cry out as my body rolls over the table and settle into the sharp rhythm that is Vince fucking. His fingers dig deep into my hips, and I bite my bottom lip to stop myself from moaning at the pain.

We fuck hard, ignoring the sounds of traffic on the highway behind us, consumed in the world we create between us in that moment. Any moment another car could come in here, any moment we could be busted, and thinking about it only makes my core clench further, ready to explode.

“Jesus, baby,” Vince grinds out. “You’re getting tight.”

I come hard, pushing back on the heels of my hands, trying to take more of him.

“So fuckin’ tight,” he growls again and pulls out, coming in warm lashes over my back.

I lie there, relishing being claimed again, but wondering just exactly what he plans to do now.

“Don’t move,” he instructs, and I can’t help but laugh.

“What did you think I was going to do? Get up and dance a jig?”

He chuckles behind me, and I strain my neck to see what he’s doing. Vince shirks his cut, laying it carefully beside me, and then strips his T-shirt off. I unashamedly stare at the sheer size of him, feeling somewhat turned on again already knowing that that is the machine that I had hammering me mere seconds before.

He gently cleans me off, and then ditches his shirt in the bin near the table as I sit up and rearrange myself. I tug my T-shirt on again, and find him standing before me when my head pops through the neck-hole, a lazy smile on his face.

“What?”

“You’re fuckin’ dangerous, you know that?”

“Says the man who pulled me over to fuck in a public rest area.”

He slips the cut back on, and by God does he look twice as sexy with that and that only on his torso.

Vince leans forward, his lips brushing my ear. “Remind me to show you what it’s like when I fuck. That way you won’t call me making love to you ‘fucking’ ever again.”

Mother of God, I’m ready for him to show me now.

WE ARRIVE
at Alice’s in a torrent of rain, soaked to the bone and miserable as two cats dragged through the bathtub.
So much for the weather.

Sonya slips off the bike—quite literally slips off—and lands on her ass beside the kick-stand. I swing my leg over and get off to help her up while she giggles like a maniac.

“How’s that for a first impression?” She chuckles.

I swipe some leaf litter off her backside, and give it a pat. “Probably the best one I’ve seen yet.”

The front door of the traditionally-styled house opens, and Jane rushes out with an umbrella.

“I think we’re a bit past that.” I laugh. “Do you have a mudroom?”

“Yep, through the yard,” Jane replies, dashing ahead. She stops at the side gate, and turns back to us as we wait behind her. “I’m so rude, I’m sorry. I’m Jane.” She thrusts a hand at Sonya, who graciously accepts the greeting.

“Sonya.”

I smile watching Sonya introduce herself, polite as ever, while we’re standing in the middle of a rainstorm looking like two drowned rats. Even in less than ideal conditions, she’s so naturally courteous. It’s just one more little trait that makes her uniquely who she is—perfect.

“Come,” Jane ushers, holding her dog back from the gate as we head through.

I give the Lab a pat as he runs around us, sniffing our wet clothes. Sonya squats down, her wet boots squelching, and gives the dog a ruffle under the chin.

We round the house and come up on a wide porch that encircles the entire dwelling. Finally out of the downpour, I shake off my wet cut and kick my boots to the side of the door.

“Steady on, old man.”

I lift my gaze to find Alice standing in the now-open doorway, watching me with amusement.

“You haven’t introduced us and you’re already getting down to business.”

Sonya freezes midway through taking her jacket off, the blush on her cheeks evident even through the rain-damp hair stuck to her face.

I shoot Alice a less-than-impressed glare. “Mind out of the gutter, boy.”

He holds his hands up in surrender. “Sorry.”

Jane takes Sonya’s jacket from her and arranges it over the back of a chair on the porch, soon doing the same with my wet cut. I help Sonya get her soaked boots off, the rain that had seeped down the sides creating a vacuum against her socked foot.

“Can I make you guys a hot drink? Or would you like to shower first?” Jane takes Sonya’s wet socks from her.

“I think a hot drink would be great. What about you?” I ask Sonya.

She nods. “Sounds good. I’ll just get changed first, if you could show me to the spare room.”

Jane leads her into the house, and as I watch her go I thank the fact I spent the extra money when I didn’t really have it and bought a waterproof backpack all those years ago.

“C’mon,” Alice says with a sweep of his hand. “Get your sorry ass inside and I’ll warm you up with a whiskey before Jane overloads you on coffee.”

Comfortable on the sofa in Alice and Jane’s living room, I stretch my neck, and groan as the kinks pop out. Jane places a plate of homemade toffee slice on the coffee table, and takes up a position in the armchair beside Alice. He wriggles his hips to let her slide in beside him.

Seeing the way they always need to be close to each other is nice. Now knowing Alice spent the better part of his late teenage years alone, what he has now is probably reward for that and then some. I’m not too man to admit it kind of makes me jealous as well, watching them, and then seeing Sonya perched politely on the far end of the sofa.

“I need to ask a favor,” I say, breaking the silence.

“You just got here,” Alice teases.

I roll my eyes, and continue. “The club VP is on his way down here tomorrow, and he has company.” Sonya whips her head to look at me, and I offer her my best placating smile. “King called while you were in the bathroom at the rest stop. They think Sawyer is headed home,” I explain. “He’s sending Ramona and Mack down to get them out of the area. Callum is riding behind, making sure her drive here is safe.”

“They’re more than welcome to stay here,” Jane offers.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I know it’s short notice, but I only just found out myself.”

“Mack is Ramona’s four-year-old son,” Sonya fills them in.

Jane’s eyes light up, and she turns to smile at Alice. I’m guessing the fact she doesn’t have kids yet isn’t by choice.

“How long?” Alice asks.

Jane smacks him on the arm, and he scowls at her.

“Not that I mind,” he adds forcefully.

I shrug. “I’m not sure. As long as it takes for us to corner Sawyer, I guess? I really can’t put a number on it.”

“What’s the story there?” Alice asks, leaning forward to nab a slice of the baking. “You said there was something you didn’t tell me last visit.”

“I’ll get to that,” I say, glaring at him. “Right now, we need to talk about how we’re going to figure out exactly what Carlos’s bunch know, where Sawyer is, and what we’re going to do to wrap this mess up. Until we’re clear on all the details, everyone stays here.”

“You want us to hide,” he scoffs.

Jane shifts beside him, and gives his arm a squeeze. “That would harm their reputation if they just hid from all of this, wouldn’t it?” she asks of me.

“So would being dead,” I retort.

“I’m not hiding,” Alice bites back. “What kind of chicken shit would that make us look like?”

“You don’t have a choice,” I say. “You want to have any fuckin’ chance at living a normal life after this, then you lay low for now.”

“Fuck off,” he snaps. “What the hell do you think Ty and Bronx will do? You expect them to bury their heads, just because you tell them to?”

I glare at the stubborn asshole. “I don’t give a flying fuck what they choose to do—they don’t have a woman to protect, and a life outside of what you guys do.”

“I can’t abandon them,” he argues. “We’ve always been a team, done everything together.”

“Yeah, and how many of that team are left?” I’m hitting way below the belt, I know, but fuck, whatever it takes to get him to realize that if you fuck up and lose your life, there’s no coming back from that. He’s not playing a child’s game anymore; this is real life with real consequences, and unfortunately, his decisions are starting to catch up with him.

Alice goes quiet, staring off to the side, his jaw set firm.

I look to Jane, hoping she can put the pressure on. “You won’t be alone; Sonya will be staying here with you. I’m not having her involved, either.”

“Um, what?” Sonya pipes up from beside me. “What’s the point in bringing me then? When were you going to talk to
me
about this?”

I meet her stare. “I wasn’t.” If I had so much as given this little spitfire a whiff of what I had planned, she would have been talking me out of it with a bulleted slide-show presentation to boot. I don’t care how seasoned she is, who she knows, or what she’s endured in the past. The woman’s mine now, and what is mine is protected, whatever it takes.

“Fuck me,” she mutters under her breath. “Boss of everything today, aren’t we?”

“Yeah,” I snap. “I fuckin’ am, and you know why? Because I’m surrounded by a bunch of stubborn fuckers who seem to think that a life is something to be played with. Be thankful you wake up breathing every day. Just suck up your God damn pride, and think of yourselves first.”

“I am,” Alice replies. “And I’m thinking that I would like to be given the chance to decide if I want to avenge what happened to Tigger or not.”

“What are you going to do, huh?” I shake my head at him. “You think you three can go in there, guns blazing, and sort this out?”

“Maybe not as simply as that, but I’m sure we can ‘negotiate’ with Carlos.”

“Negotiate what? How many days he decides to torture you for?”

Jane’s eyes grow wide, and Alice scowls from his position beside her. Sonya places a hand on my thigh, probably trying to calm me down, but I’m over being nice. I’m so past caring about how Alice feels anymore that it’s not even remotely funny. Lost years be damned—I’m not sucking up to Alice and giving him what he wants on this. I’m taking charge. With age comes wisdom, and it’s about time this fuckin’ kid realized that.

“You do understand that’s what he’ll do,” I say. “He’s not just going to pop a bullet in your brain and have the hired help clean your blood off the tiles. He’ll play with you, torture you, and make you pay for what happened.”

Alice cocks his head to the side, and narrows his gaze. “What do you mean ‘what happened’? He fucked
us
over, killed Tigger. What the fuck has
he
got to be mad about?”

I sigh, and drop my head between my shoulders, elbows braced on my knees. “Why is it you think
he
killed Tigger?” I ask quietly.

Alice shifts so he’s leaning forward in the seat. “Tigger owed him money for green, and Carlos came to collect. Or do you know something else, old man?”

“You have any idea what Tigger did in his spare time?”

“Hootered up? Played Xbox all day? Fucked if I know.”

I turn my head, and hold his line of sight. “He did side jobs for Carlos, and a couple of other bosses. He worked on his own.”

Alice shoots out of the chair, Jane falling into the space he vacates. “Bullshit!”

“Afraid so,” I tell him. “He was given a contract by Carlos, but for whatever reason he never completed it. Fucked things up for Carlos big time.”

Alice paces behind the armchair, hands on his hips. “He would have told us this.”

“He lost Carlos an entire distribution arm,” I finish.

“I just . . . I never . . .”

“Jane,” Sonya interjects. “How about we go see if the stuff outside is dry?”

The girls exchange a look, and Jane nods. “Good thinking.” She rises from the chair, and gives Alice a rub on the back as she passes.

Alone with him, I relax into the sofa and wait on him to process the new information. His face twists and strains while he restlessly moves from one spot to another. After several minutes of indecision, he flops into the armchair again and sighs. “I guess it was possible, really.”

“More than possible, Alice. It happened, and now this is the situation we’re left in.”

“I still don’t get why you’re involved, though. Other than me . . .”

“Tigger wasn’t taken out by Carlos or his fuckin’ flying monkeys,” I explain.

He slaps his hands over his face and groans. “Fuck me, it just keeps gettin’ better.”

“Sawyer found out about the orders on you lot. With the daddy issues that kid has, he thought it might be a great way to impress his old man if he took you lot out first.”

“Let me get this straight,” he says, revealing his stormy eyes. “From what I’ve heard, Sawyer is Carlos’s oldest son—the same one who joined your outfit to fuck his old man off. You’re telling me Sawyer is the guy I saw kill Tigger?”

I nod.

“You mean to tell me, it was one of your fuckin’ men that killed my friend?” he says through strained tones. Alice stands, shoulders set, and fists clenched.

I rise to my feet and dwarf him in height. “You better sit your fuckin’ ass down, boy.”

“Or what?” he asks, bumping chests with me.

My lips twitch at the corner. “Or we find out what would have happened nineteen years ago if I’d put my foot down with you like I should have.”

Alice holds his ground, jostling against me, trying to force me to step down. I’m not going anywhere.

“Reel it in, Alice.”

His pupils explode with shades of grey before he whips his head back and strikes me one right on the lip. My hand snaps to the back of his neck, and I hold his head firm with my forefinger and thumb tucked beneath each side of his jaw.

Blood seeps between my lips, and I lick the coppery taste away. “You ever fuckin’ pull a stunt like that again, and fuck it all, I’ll deliver you to Carlos myself.”

“This has to be the most passionate about something I’ve ever seen you,” Alice sneers. The muscles in his neck pop and flex beneath my grip.