Exquisite Karma (Iron Horse MC Book 4) (9 page)

“Yeah.”

“Let’s take my mom there. That way she’s close to medical care and figure out where she’d be best off. She might need a rehab if she’s badly injured.”

Beach pressed a kiss to my forehead before pulling back. “I’ll get her any private nurse she needs, babe. We’ll put her out in the pool house.”

Our “pool house” was actually a three-bedroom home that sat at the back of our property near the infinity pool. I’d had it built with Marley in mind. I missed her like the dickens and was trying to talk her into moving out here from Vegas. The house had been built with her in mind, and I did not like the thought of my mother soiling it with her presence. Then again, that was better than having her actually inside the house. Chewing my lower lip, I wondered if I could set up surveillance cameras in there without anyone noticing.

The fact that my gut was telling me to keep an eye on her pushed me to tell Beach at least a little bit of the truth.

“Can I talk to you for a second, in private?”

“Of course.” He said a few words to the men lingering around us before I took him upstairs to our bedroom.

Once we were inside, I turned on him. “Honey, she can’t stay in our pool house.”

Looking completely confused, he frowned. “Why not?”

“Because…because I don’t want her living here.”

“What?”

Running my hands through my hair, I let out a frustrated noise. “I haven’t seen her for over two years for a reason, Beach, and it’s not because I haven’t had time to call her. Honestly, if she hadn’t shown up on our doorstep tonight, I probably never would have seen her again. I don’t
want
to see her again.”

“I know, babe, but I also know you’d feel terrible if somethin’ happened to her. I’ll set her up in an apartment and have the boys keep an eye on her, okay?”

I wanted to tell him to send her to a rehab in Siberia but managed to choke those bitter words back. “Okay. Just…don’t trust her.”

His eyes narrowed and he took a step closer to me. “Somethin’ you need to tell me?”

“What? No, no, I just don’t trust her, and I don’t want you to fall for her shit. She’s very good at manipulating men to get what she wants.”

He smirked at me. “Babe, she’s not gonna get anythin’ over on me or my boys.”

I wanted to shake him and tell him about all the brilliant men she’d conned, but I was trapped in my own lies and had to stare at him in mute misery.

With a sigh, he closed the distance between us and tucked me into him. “I’ll have someone keep an eye on her.”

“Thank you.”

“You okay?”

No, not in the least, but I couldn’t tell him that.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“It’ll be okay, Sarah. You’ll see.”

While I highly doubted that was true, I prayed he was right.

Seven Weeks Later

Carlos “Beach” Rodriquez

My hands shook with anger as I gripped the handlebars of my motorcycle, unable to believe the sight I was seeing across the street.

One of the bars we owned was going up in flames, the second property of ours this week that had met a burning end. Firefighters did their best to keep the flames from spreading to the other businesses on the south side of Austin, but I knew our place was a total loss. I’m sure they’d find signs the fire had been professionally set, just like the last one, and I had to grit my teeth to try and keep my calm.

Someone was fucking with us, hardcore, and so far we’d been unable to find out who it was.

Sledge stood a few feet away talking to one of the firemen, nodding as he pointed to the building. My VP’s family members were all firefighters and Sledge had a ton of contacts, as well as a knowledge of fires I didn’t possess. The headache that I’d been nursing all night throbbed harder and I lifted one hand from my motorcycle to rub my eyes. It was six a.m. and I hadn’t been to sleep yet, called away from my bed and my woman by emergency after emergency.

It was making me irritable as fuck and when Sledge came back to me, I snapped, “Let me guess, they don’t know shit.”

Looking equally haggard, Sledge ran his hand over the minute stubble on his bald head while staring at the fire. “Got that right.”

“Yo, Prez,” Vance called from somewhere behind me.

I turned to find him coming up to us holding cups of coffee, the chain on his wallet chiming softly with each step. While the guy could be a major fucking prick, he had his moments. I gratefully took one cup and sipped through the small hole in the lid, just the scent of the brew waking me up a little. Thankfully Vance got me a super dark roast, ’cause I needed every ounce of caffeine.

“
Gracias
.”

Lifting his chin in the direction of the smoking building, he asked, “Learn anything?”

“No, other than it looks like it was deliberately set just like the last one.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” Vance muttered. “Can’t seem to catch a break.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Sledge sighed. “At least we haven’t had any more sweet butts turn up dead.”

Guilt at not being able to protect those women clawed at me but I shoved the emotion away. I didn’t have time to feel guilty, not when I had to put an end to this shit. For the past month or so someone had been for sure fuckin’ with the club, and I was pretty sure I knew why. In two days, we were gonna do a major run with cargo that included fuckin’ missiles for the Russians and a bunch of shit for the Israeli mafia—including a bunch of fuckin’ plants, of all things. The trucks carrying the load were in Louisiana right now, that part of the transport being handled by a different group. Once it arrived at our warehouse, our leg of the journey would begin.

“Go home,” Vance said in a sympathetic voice while he looked at his phone. “Me and the boys will deal with this shit. You need to get some sleep.”

“I’m good.”

“Beach,” Sledge interrupted with a yawn. “They’ve got it handled and he’s right, we both need to grab some shuteye. Know I’m gonna grab myself a couple sweet butts to keep me warm then sleepin’ for about twenty fuckin’ hours.”

I only wanted to sleep with one woman, and I wondered if she was even home. As busy as I’d been, Sarah had been even busier. She was gone as much as I was, helping out with club issues, and I missed her. We barely saw each other and I needed to spend some time just breathing her in. This past month had been hectic as shit and I knew it was stressing my girl out. I wasn’t so blind that I didn’t notice she’d been dropping some of the weight she’d put on during our time together, and even with her makeup on I could see the dark circles beneath her eyes.

While I knew havin’ her mom around stressed her out, so far Billie had been nothing but nice and helpful, and as far as I knew she’d stayed away from Sarah. The guys keepin’ an eye on Billie said she kept to herself, other than work. We’d set her up with a job at the pawnshop and Hustler said she was one of his best salespeople. I didn’t see her much, was too busy with other shit, but the few times we had interacted she’d been nothing but grateful. She’d asked about Sarah, but I wasn’t about to get in the middle of a mother/daughter fight.

No fuckin’ way.

“Right, I’m out. Tell Smoke to keep me updated.”

“He’s in Houston right now,” Vance said with a small frown.

“Again?”

“Yeah.”

Smoke’s growing obsession with Sarah’s twin sister, Swan, was beginning to worry me, but I had so many other things that needed my attention. “Tell him after this shift, I need him back in Austin.”

“Got it.”

It took me about an hour to get through the heavy traffic to my place up in the hills, but as I passed through the big iron gates and waved to the guards patrolling the grounds, a couple nomads I’d called in for extra protection, something inside of me settled. The big white, two-story 1980s home dominated the hilltop and had amazing views from all sides. I’d never really given a shit about architecture or any of that crap, but Sarah fucking loved it and I’d given her free rein on our house to make it our home, and she’d done an amazing job.

I drove right up to the front door, the big engine on my Harley loud in the early morning quiet, before turning my bike off and dismounting with a groan.

Damn, some days my body barely felt older than twenty, and others I felt more like I was quickly approaching eighty.

“Beach!”

Sarah bounded out the black steel front door, still in the pink cotton shorts and tank top she wore to bed. The sight of all her smooth, exposed skin had my dick twitching in interest before she threw her arms around me and hugged me tight. “I missed you. Is everything okay?”

I hugged her back before tugging her toward the house. “Not really. I’ll tell you inside. I’m fuckin’ beat.”

Once we were up in our bedroom, Sarah took my hand and pulled me towards the bathroom. “Come on, you need this.”

“Need what?”

My answer came at the sight of our huge tub filled with steaming, fragrant water. “Get naked, I’m going to wash you.”

“You gettin’ in the tub with me?”

“No.”

“That’s no fun.”

She laughed and helped me out of my clothes, her hands running over my body, tracing my tattoos as she sighed in appreciation. “You’re so pretty.”

Laughing, I grabbed her by the back of the neck and pulled her close, loving how she smiled up at me. “Pretty?”

“Absolutely. Any woman would want to hang life-size portraits of you on the wall to stare at while jilling off.”

“You’re a goof.”

“Yep, now get in the tub.”

“Sure you don’t want to join me?”

“I’ve got an appointment with a new gynecologist today for my yearly pap. I want to be all fresh and clean down there. Now get in the tub.”

I did as she told me, vaguely wondering what exactly a pap was. Our tub was big enough that I could stretch out all the way, and I did with a low groan, my head falling back onto the curved edge of the tub as the heat soaked into me. While I didn’t want to admit it, my sore lower back needed it, along with a myriad of other small aches and pains. I’ve lived a rough life that hasn’t always been good to my body and the older I get, the more I pay for it.

Sarah proceeded to wash both me and my hair before she gave me one hell of a hand job. I wanted to return the favor but she got all weird again about her pretty pussy showing any signs of use.

Women.

As I threw myself on the bed, the chains on the posts jingled. “What time’s your appointment?”

“Two, but I have a bunch of stuff to do first.”

I reached out and yanked her down onto the bed with me. “It’s barely seven a.m. Come back to bed with me.”

She yawned, hugely, and I knew I wouldn’t have to fight her too hard. “Okay, but just for a little bit. I’m still tired even though I slept eight hours.”

After getting us both beneath the soft red comforter, I hauled her body next to my sated one and kissed her smooth shoulder. “Love you, baby. So fuckin’ much.”

She tensed for a long moment, but I waited her out, knowing those words were still so hard for her to say. Some part of her feared the power those words would give me over her, and I could only wait as patiently as I could while she battled her inner demons.

This time the silence only lasted eight seconds before she whispered, “I love you too, Carlos.”

Hugging her tight, I showered kisses on her warm face. “I know you do, baby. I know.”

Later that night, I attended a meeting where I went through what would happen on the run one more time with my some of my top men and a few civilians. Smoke ran a security company partially owned by the private corporation the club used for its legit business dealings, and he had some men and women on his staff who were scary good at what they did. Good enough that they were being included in this high-stakes run without wearing patches on their backs. We were at my house in what Sarah liked to call my war room, a massive space I’d planned out for myself in the basement, right next to the panic room Smoke’s company had put in here for us, one of five in the house.

What can I say? I’m a little paranoid about Sarah’s safety.

The thought of my woman momentarily distracted me from looking at the hologram in the center of the table, a detailed map of how the run was going to work, our backups, and our backup’s backups. This entire thing had to run as smooth as butter, and if it did, it would cement Iron Horse as the go-to club for runs in the US Southwest. Shit, we might even get some of Mike’s business. So far we’d managed to avoid crossing paths in a professional context, but I knew it was only a matter of time until I started moving some of his guns.

My gaze focused in on the moving red dot that represented the transport and my pulse sped.

Missiles.

Cutting-edge weapons.

And a bunch of massive vials of some kind of silver liquid.

And a dozen saplings.

Those vials, which resembled titanium pills the size of fifty-gallon drums, were added on by the Israelis last minute, and they’d demanded an additional layer of protection. They wanted Poppy to ride with the trees. I have no idea why they wanted this, but they were adamant and swore she would be protected and returned safely to her home a much richer woman. Without a doubt, I felt guilty as hell for involving Poppy in this run, but true to form, once I’d mentioned it to her, she’d agreed without hesitation. When I’d asked her why she was okay with it, she’d merely shrugged and said, “Curiosity.”

The large black leather chair creaked beneath me as I leaned back and willed my body to relax. Walking around in a constant state of readiness was going to grind my nerves into dust, and I couldn’t afford that. Nine to ten hours from now, those trucks would be rolling into our warehouse, passed off to us from a group I was assured was “competent” for the transport. Considering it was the Russian fuckin’ mafia sayin’ that, I wondered if I should have Tom Sokolov, one of Smoke’s best friends from childhood—who just happened to be related to half the fuckin’ Russian mafia—with us to see if he could identify them.

Then again, I didn’t want to piss off any of the Russians. The
Bratvas
, what they called their organizations, were ruthless to the bone after fighting for centuries to get to the top. Not only did they have to fight other families, they’d carved out their criminal empires against a background of war, the Soviet Union, and back-breaking hopelessness. I’d found them to be fair men, but if they had a hit out on me, they’d shake my hand then shoot me in the face.

A memory of watching a man’s head explode as he was shot at close range flashed through my mind, and I willed it away.

“Smoke,” Hustler called out from across the room, “Checkpoint D is a go.”

On the hologram, a dot turned bright blue as the final group called in to affirm they were in position. I was taking no chances, so I had everyone out a few days early to scout and secure their positions. With everyone where they were supposed to be, I relaxed marginally, then leaned forward and placed my hands on the table before speaking over the din, “We got a long day tomorrow and we’ve done everything we can to make sure the run goes smooth, so I want you to go home and get some sleep.”