Outlaw: Screaming Eagles MC (11 page)

Chapter Twenty-One

“And now, the main man we’re all here to see...Falcon Marks!” A cheer went up and it was loud enough to hurt Falcon’s ears through the walls of the bathroom.

His heart started to pound and he could feel his body tense as his body prepared for the fight. He might not care about the Screaming Eagles anymore, but he did still care about the money and if he won today, he would get a lot of money.

Falcon stepped out of the bathroom and lifted both of his hands high in the air as the room around him erupted in shouts and screams. The lights of the clubhouse were all low, except for a large circle in the center of the room where the fights took place. A spotlight found Falcon’s face and he squinted as the bright light overtook his vision and he couldn’t see anything else.

But he could hear the voices and the roars and the calls to the bookies. Falcon felt oddly void of emotion, but no, that wasn’t true. He looked deep within himself; he was feeling something, he just wasn't sure what. He walked down a makeshift path in the clubhouse with men on either side. They were cheering him on and patting him on the back. The room was thick with smoke and the smell of stale beer. Falcon wished he could be outside in the fresh air. That was when he realized he wasn’t void of emotion. There was one left. He was angry.

He was mad that he was doing this and that he had been doing it for years. He had been sacrificing his own life and his body for an organization that didn’t give two shits about him. He had always been good at the fights; he was unquestionably one of the best. But he had never been promoted within the organization. Was it because of the fights? Had the boss kept Falcon a foot soldier so he didn’t lose his favorite form of entertainment?

He slipped his mouth guard in and walked into the room. His first match was a joke, it always was. He didn’t remember the name of the guy waiting for him in the circle. It wasn’t until the announcer shouted the fight’s name Marks v. O’Brian that Falcon remembered. Daniel O'Brien was a newbie. He just joined the gang last year. He was nineteen and thin as a reed. He was tall with some muscles, but not too many, and Falcon wasn’t worried about losing. He was worried about hurting the kid.

He shook the sweaty and shaky hand of Daniel O'Brien as the referee announced the beginning of the fight. The ref was there just for appearance. This was a no-rules, down and dirty fight. A bell was rung and Falcon pulled his fists up and began to move around his opponent. Daniel was pulling a real rookie move, jumping and dancing around, trying to stay out of Falcon’s reach. But this was a fight and he could only dance for so long.

Falcon watched him for a full minute before he took two giant steps forward and made an obvious punch at the kid’s stomach. He blocked it, as Falcon knew he would, and then with his other hand Falcon punched Daniel right in his jaw. It was a solid hit and he fell to his knees. He stumbled for a moment as the men around him screamed and yelled, some encouraging him to get back up, others telling him to fall. But Daniel wasn’t a quitter, Falcon had to give him that. Falcon waited for him to get to his feet and then socked him on the other side of the jaw and the kid went down and didn’t get back up.

The cheers were deafening. It was probably one of the shortest fights on record. The ref jumped back in the ring and lifted Falcon’s hand up as the guys in the club went wild and cheered his name. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see O’Brien struggle to his feet as members of the gang dragged him out of the ring.  He left behind a smear of blood on the clubhouse floor that was quickly cleaned up.

Falcon went round after round. He felt untouchable as he beat every opponent. They were all fellow gang members, some friends, some not. One by one he took them out. He took a few hits himself, mostly to his chest and stomach and one right to his nose. But he wasn't done. He was ready to win. They could throw anyone at him and Falcon knew he could beat them.

He fought like a man possessed; he fought and won every fight of the night. The last fight went six rounds, but when it was over Falcon was the winner and his opponent was knocked unconscious on the floor. He was covered in sweat and blood and bruises and he took out his mouth guard and looked out over the sea of faces cheering him on. The fights were over and bets were being paid.

Falcon pushed his way through the crowd around the ring. Most of the guys he passed weren’t members, just visitors here for the fight. His hand was shook and his back was patted. He made his way to the bathroom. It was more like a locker room with a row of showers and Falcon stripped out of his sweaty and bloody clothes and let the hot water from the shower pour over his sore shoulders.

He had won again. It felt good to win, even he had to admit that. For the longest time being good at the fights was the only good thing Falcon had going for him in the Screaming Eagles. But now, not only was he in charge of a major operation, but he was also working with the cops and screwing the hottest chick he had ever seen.

He took his time with the shower, removing every last trace of blood from his body. When he was done, he stepped out and reached for his phone. He was confident Grace had returned his calls. She had to return them at some point. But when he turned on his phone, his stomach dropped and disappointment flooded through him.

He had a lot going for him at the moment and somehow the fights had taken a backseat. As he turned off the shower he realized this might be his last fight ever. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could play the double agent, or even how much longer the Screaming Eagles would be around. Would he miss the fights? It was too early to say. He did enjoy the thrill of it and the feeling of being a winner.

Falcon changed into clean clothes and left the locker room, walking back out into the clubhouse. Now that the fights were over most of the non-members had been sent on their way and there were only Screaming Eagles left.

There was a line of them at the bar and when Falcon joined them they barely even glanced in his direction. He ordered a beer and stood there awkwardly as no one looked at him or spoke to him. He felt invisible. Normally, after a fight it was the one time the rest of the gang members remembered he was alive, but this time they were giving off a strange vibe. They were standoffish and Falcon didn’t know why and it worried him.

A member came up to the bar and gave Falcon a curt nod before turning away. He couldn’t help it; his imagination began to run wild. Why were they acting like this? Did they know something he didn’t? Were they mad Falcon was always winning the fights, were they jealous of him?

Or maybe the job by the boss was a setup. Maybe they all knew he was working for the cops and they were giving him just enough rope to hang himself with.
No!
he thought to himself. It was dangerous to start to question everything and doubting himself. He needed to stay confident; his confidence had gotten him this far and he needed to keep using it.

But he had so many questions and was unsure about so many things. He needed to talk to Grace. He needed her opinion and expertise right now. And he missed her. He missed her green eyes and her body; he missed being able to hold her in his arms. He grabbed his phone and dialed her number again, and again it went straight to voicemail.

“Hey, it’s me. You need to call me now. Right now.” He hung up the phone and looked at the men around him trying to figure out what they knew. He kept his face a blank mask as he looked from man to man, and each face he encountered quickly looked the other way. But his resolved was firm, whether or not the Screaming Eagles knew what he was up to, Falcon wasn’t done yet. He was still going to bring them down.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Falcon left the clubhouse early. Something about the vibe was just off. He felt like everyone was watching him and when he would look back at them they would quickly look away. Every time he passed a group of people they suddenly grew quiet. What was really getting to him was the unknown. What did the Screaming Eagles know? Were they mad about his continued success in the fight, his promotion, or did they still not trust him?

He needed to talk to someone. He needed a second opinion. Normally he would go to Kelly, but he couldn’t involve her in this. It was too dangerous. He couldn’t talk to anyone in the gang and Grace wasn’t returning his calls. He felt alone. One of the reasons Falcon joined the Screaming Eagles was to be a part of something. That was the one, if not the only, perk of being in a gang. The members are your brothers and they look out for you and protect you; a gang is supposed to be family.

But Falcon had an actual family, he had Sophie and he needed to protect and provide for her. And his boss, Ernie, had turned out to be as terrible a father figure as Falcon’s actual father. He tried to turn his brain off, tried to stop worrying, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get away from the bad thoughts.

Falcon returned home, walking into his empty and dark apartment. He went to his bathroom took a painkiller, swallowing it dry. He had just swallowed the pill when his phone finally rang.

“Grace?” Falcon said breathlessly into the phone.

“Yes, Falcon. It’s me. Is everything al lright?” Her voice sounded faint and far away and Falcon wished she was here in front of him right now.

“Where have you been? I’ve been calling you. Shit’s been going on in the gang. We need to meet and talk in person.” He whispered into the phone as he hurried around the room and closed the curtains on the windows.

“Just tell me over the phone, Falcon,” she said.

“No. I need to talk to you. I need to see you.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said.

“Why?” Falcon demanded.

“You know why,” she said. “We need to keep this professional and we’re not capable of that when we’re alone together. We can’t do that again. It’s over, Falcon. It has to be.”

“Fine,” Falcon said, hiding the disappointment in his voice. He didn’t understand why she was fighting their attraction to each other. They were perfect together and they were on the same side now. What more did she want? “If you want to keep it professional we will. You want to talk business? I have actual business. The boss has put me in charge of a huge operation, Grace. We need to talk about it and figure out how you’re going to make a bust without me getting killed.”

“What’s the deal?” Grace asked and he could hear the excitement and interest in her voice.

“I don’t want to talk about it over the phone. I want to talk to you in person. Business only, like you want. But I’m putting a lot on the line here, Grace, and you have to meet me halfway.”

“Fine, the normal spot?”

“No,” he said. He glanced out of his window, pushing the curtain aside. He could see a grey car sitting outside on the street. Was there someone in there? Was that the glow of a cigarette? “I’m being watched. Something is up with the gang, I don’t know if they’re jealous or on to me, but I can’t leave tonight. It would look too suspicious.”

“Well, having a cop show up might look suspicious, too...”

“Then don’t look suspicious.” He closed the curtains “Be here in half an hour,” Falcon said as he hung up his phone. He forced himself to stop looking out the window. He needed to stop trying to figure out what the Screaming Eagles knew and focus on what he knew. He was about to embark on a huge operation and he would need to work closely with Grace in order to pull it off.

Except Grace didn’t want anything to do with him. He had to admit it hurt. He had been thinking about her nonstop and she wanted nothing to do with him. She didn’t want them to be together like that and Falcon had to be okay with that. He wasn’t okay with it, but he would have to pretend to be. Besides, there were other stakes, bigger stakes. The Screaming Eagles could not find out he was working with the cops.

In less than a thirty minutes Falcon heard a loud knock on his front door. He walked to the door and opened it and then his jaw fell open. It was Grace, all right, but it was not Detective Santiago. Detective Grace Santiago was a strong and tough woman who busted bad guys for a living. The woman in front of him looked like a prostitute.

She looked phenomenal. Her long hair had been blown out and it hung in thick curls around her neck. Her green eyes were lined with dramatic black and blue eyeliner and eye shadow. She was wearing a low-cut, short, tight, leopard-print dress and a pair of black stilettos that made her as tall as Falcon.

Falcon’s jaw fell open and he took a step back. His eyes kept moving all over body. He started with her eyes and then he couldn’t help himself and looked down at her well-supported breasts that were pouring out the dress; he could see a lacey black bra peeking out. He looked down at her long and luscious legs and had to resist the urge to reach out and touch her.

“You gonna let me in?” she demanded, putting her hand on her hip.

“Yeah,” Falcon muttered stepping awkwardly aside to admit Grace through the door. He glanced across the street and saw the grey car was still there, but he still couldn’t tell if someone was in there.
Stop looking
, he ordered himself and he closed the door firmly behind him as he walked inside.

“Why?” It was all he could say as he stared at Grace, taking her all in as she stood in the middle of his apartment.

“I didn't want to arouse suspicion,” she chided him. “I know how bikers think, I know what they want, what they like.”

She needed to stop talking like that. He couldn’t stand there with her dressed like that as she talked about needs and wants and likes.

“Holy shit, your face looks terrible,” she said as she tossed a purse on Falcon’s faded couch.

“Yeah,” he said, reaching up to touch his tender nose. “It was fight day.”

“Does the other guy look worse?”

“Definitely,” he answered with a nod.

“Well, I can’t talk to you like this,” she said shaking her head. “Where’s your bathroom?” She grabbed Falcon by the wrist and dragged him to the bathroom, which happened to be connected to his bedroom.

With just a few steps they could be on his bed tearing their clothes off of each other. But that’s not what Grace wanted; she had said so herself and Falcon wanted Grace to want him. He didn’t want to pressure her. He wanted to let their natural passion drive them to satisfaction.

Falcon put the lid down and sat down on the toilet as Grace dug through his medicine cabinet and pulled out gauze, alcohol, and bandages.

“Wow, you certainly have a lot of drugs in here,” she said as she rifled through a series of prescription bottles covered in different names. “Jerry Howell, Jake Berenson, Cassie, who are these people?” She asked.

“Believe it or not motorcycle gangs don’t have the best medical coverage,” he said with a shrug. “So, sometimes we help each other out. Plus, the fights are really hard on us, but people want the fights to continue, so the painkillers are like an added bonus.”

“Good to know,” she said as she took an oxycodone out of the bottle and with a little shrug and a smile she swallowed it quickly.

“Bad girl,” he said with a shake of his head and without thinking he reached out and stroked the top of her thigh where the dress ended. It was so short he wasn’t sure how she could sit down in it, but he was eager to find out.

“No,” she said, pulling away from him. “We can’t do that; it’s going to destroy this investigation.”

“We’ve had this argument,” Falcon said with a sigh. She had stepped out of his reach so he just stared at her with naked longing. “Why are you fighting this? It’s not going to ruin anything. And we both know that when it comes to me, your resolve isn’t that strong. So why don’t we go to my bedroom so I can give you one last taste of what you’re saying no to.”