Outlaw's Wrath - An MC Brotherhood Romance Boxed Set (34 page)

He collapsed on the bed beside her, and then rolled onto his back to look at her ceiling with passive interest. Afterglow was already rising inside her, filling her with hot, golden energy.

She rolled up next to him, and said, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For not taking you seriously enough,” she said, and licked at his nipple. “A man like you should always be taken very seriously.”

“Forgiven,” he murmured.

“Want a beer? Water? More pussy?” she asked.

“All three before the night is through,” he told her, “but for now, a beer would be great.”

CHAPTER SIX

Their next session was much more loving, but just as deeply satisfying for Cynthia. Hank seemed to be pleased with their togetherness as well. Afterward, they talked until well past midnight. They decided to go out to the coast and up to Oceanside together. Tomorrow was Saturday, and Cynthia reasoned that she could bring her travel laptop and get some work done if they decided to rent a little beach hut for the day, like Hank was suggesting.

“I got enough for that,” he said. He nodded while she looked up at him from his chest, which she simply couldn’t get enough of. The man was very nicely muscled, and after having felt the blessings and power of those muscles twice, she really wanted to know much more about them. For the first time in her life, she had a glimpse into what men really got out of looking at and fondling breasts, because she was seriously into looking and fondling his chest for the whole evening.

“I’ve got money,” she said. “I can go half.”

“Never said you didn’t or couldn’t. Is it going to be an issue, though?”

“An issue? You mean will I get to feeling like you don’t see me as an equal if I don’t pay my own way? I hope you never see me as an equal then, and always pay my way.” She smiled, but then she lifted up and looked him in the eye.“Not treating me with respect, though, that’s a whole different thing. I’ll leave you hanging if you start treating me like a second-class citizen, or tell me to service your bros, or any other childish fantasy crap. Is that going to be an issue?”

“No, Cyn,” he said without hesitation. “That will never be an issue. I’m sure we’ll find plenty of things to have down-and-dirty battles over, and I even look forward to them with the preview you gave me today, but
that
, that will never, not once, be one of those things.”

She stretched up and kissed his lips. “Then you can pay all you want. Just let me know if I can help out to make it easier, because all I really care about is spending some time with you.”

She woke him up in the morning and sucked him off before getting coffee started. He staggered out into the living room after her. “So, with game time over, I can get dressed now?”

“Thought we’d take a shower together first. My shower is definitely large enough. It was built for handicap use. In fact, this whole house was redone for handicap use. That’s why the doorways are so wide and there are hand rails around the place.”

He eyed the stove. “And all the knobs are across the front, so you aren’t reaching over flames from your wheelchair.”

She looked at the stove, having never put that together before, but she nodded. “It is a brand new stove. I’ll bet that’s exactly the reason.”

They showered and then dressed for riding. He said their first stop was his place for fresh socks, and she nodded with a grin.

The trail down to his place from the main road was merely a break in the barbed wire fence line, and then a dirt track. The track led down to a small stand of trees, and then went for about two hundred feet up to the porch of a small white house with blue trim and a red shingled roof. It was cute, nearly as cute as hers. Nearly. It did have a great porch that was three steps up from the ground, which had a screen door and was sealed up with light insect netting all the way around. There was a chair sitting out there, a comfortable cloth-stuffed rocker, which looked like it got used almost daily.

“Want a line of coke?” he asked as he went through the front door and headed for his bedroom.

She followed as far as the living area, which was definitely all male. Rural country living all male, no less. Shot guns were racked up on one wall. The head of a coyote and the skin of one were tacked up as well. Stained and varnished wood slates covered the walls of the living room while white paint seemed to be everywhere else.

“Wouldn’t turn one down,” she said.

“Do you prefer crystal?”

“No, coke is good. I’m not fond of the comedown on crystal and it makes me horny as hell. So unless you would enjoy watching me masturbate like a monkey for several hours at a time, I’ll take the coke.”

He came back down the hallway. “Wow, that’s a tough one. Do you make chimp sounds, and the whole bit? That could be real entertainment.” He smiled.

She tossed one of the loose couch pillows at him. “No, and it’s not pretty.”

“Ah, well, then we’ll go with coke and get out of here. We should probably get some things to eat and drink in Lakeside. Fruit and stuff? At the farmers’ market?”

“Sounds good.”

At Lakeside, they shopped at the farmers’ market, picking out things to munch on in their beach cottage. Hank seemed distracted, and she tried to find what was annoying him, but she didn’t spot anything unusual around.

“You alright?” she asked. “The low growling noise your eyebrows are making is a little distracting.”

He gave her a quirky smile. “Interesting description.”

“I make a living reading interesting descriptions. Part of the package, I’m afraid.”

He stopped and searched her eyes, and then said, “This isn’t exactly planned, this thing between you and me, and if it was planned, I would crucify the planner, because it’s horrible planning.”

“Ok, what’s up?” she asked.

“There are things going on right now that you can’t know about. I can’t even curb your curiosity about them. I can’t even tell you why. So, if I say I can’t explain, I really, honestly, can’t explain. But someday, in like the next six weeks or so, I’ll tell you everything, if we make it that far. Otherwise, maybe we should just stop now and try to hook back up in six weeks, when I don’t have all of this crap going on.”

“I don’t like option B, so I’m going with option A,” she said.

“Alright then. So with all that in mind, I need to make a phone call. It would be better if you found some good grapes for us, and maybe a couple of bottles of wine,” he suggested.

“In other words, don’t listen in. Gotcha. Come find me when we can get out of here and back on the road. Will this be a regular event this weekend?”

“No, and that’s why I need to make the phone call now — so it won’t be,” he told her.

Accepting that, she left him heading for the grape display, wondering who was following them.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Hank pulled out his cellphone and walked into a patch of shade. He dialed the number and waited for Orlin to pick up.

“Bueno?”

“Hi Orlin, Hank here. I was going to just let this happen, but my girlfriend is a straight, and Ernando sucks enough at following me around that she’s going to pick up on him and start asking me to call the police. I’m sure he’s on his own, right? Because if you still need to keep this close of an eye on me, then maybe we should just call it quits and move on.”

Orlin was the head of a local cartel. It was small in comparison with the great ones in Mexico, but it was growing in strength and power every year. Orlin was quiet for a long time, and then said, “He is there? Ernando? You are sure.”

“Can’t miss that ’67 Chevy truck shell with the racing chaise and track tires. The paint job alone is a dead giveaway. Silver with flames.”

“He’s in his own truck doing this?”

“Yes, Orlin, he’s in his own truck and she’s going to spot him. We agreed that time off was a good thing with the calendar we have coming up, right?”

“Si, yes, in fact I am with my family now. I will take care of this. I don’t know why he does such things. But I will take care of it right now.”

“Hated to call you about it,” Hank told him.

“No, no, it was the right thing to do. Have a good weekend and I will see you Thursday, yes?”

“Yes, Thursday morning, ready for work.”

***

Ernando Delvalle felt that his luck thus far was perfect. He figured that Lakeside could not be that big of a place, so he would eventually find Hank. Even if he didn’t, it didn’t matter. It only mattered that he tried. The gringo was playing them. He knew it. He could feel it in his nuts.

When Hank pulled into the main street a few car lengths ahead of him with another rider, who was obviously female, heading for the farmers’ market, Ernando knew it was a sign. He was going to find something on this damn gringo today. And then he was going to put a fucking bullet in his brain.

Looking over at his brother Ramone, he said, “See, I told you we would find him. We are meant to find him.”

His younger brother spotted Hank too and felt it was more like a curse.

“We have checked Hank out, Ernando,” he sighed to his brother. “We have checked him out again and again. He is not a cop, has never been a cop. Military for only four years, honorable discharge, never went back. Plenty of good training, very good experience. Twenty-nine confirmed kills with almost twice as many unconfirmed. He’s not even a gringo like you keep calling him. He has more Spaniard in him than you do.”

Ernando was about to fire a scorching array of insults at his brother when the phone rang. He picked it up, ready to turn it off, but saw it was Orlin calling. “Fuck,” he hissed. He answered and said, “Benuo?”

“Is it good, Ernando? Because I’m hearing it is not so good. Are you really in Lakeside right now, in your own truck no less, following Hank around and ruining his days off? Seriously? Is this what you are doing?”

Ernando looked around, wondering how that fucking gringo — and fuck what Ramone had to say about his blood — could have possibly spotted him. He was three blocks away, behind a main road with passing cars and with bushes!

“Si,” he admitted, because to do otherwise simply wasn’t an option.

“Then you are coming down to Mexico now. You have obviously been working too hard, amigo. Come to my mother’s house. Spend a few days here, clear your head. That last session was very busy, I understand, but it is time to … how is it said? Decompress. Yes. Decompress. So, drive down here now.”

“Si, Orlin,” he sighed. “Maybe it is getting to me. I am on my way.”

“Good. You are a good man, and a loyal one. But this stuff with Hank, it is too much. He’s already paid his way ten times over. Just in his observations of making the landing strips was enough to pay his way.”

“Yes, but how can he know all of these things without help, and who is he getting this help from? Can he really know about landing strips and headlight covers, and transportation routes that won’t have DEA crawling over them, and everything else? No, he has someone giving him this information. It’s not just popping out of his skull.”

“Ernando, enough! You are wearying me. He has explained all of these things, many times. He is a very good observer and makes very good decisions on what he observes. You
are not
to bother him again. Now, drive. I’ll see you in two hours, no more, amigo. Not a minute more.”

Ernando closed the connection and saw, across the road, Hank and the redheaded
puta
getting back on their motorcycles. He studied her, and had a very good idea.

If you want to know a man’s secrets, go to the woman, because she has been busy digging them out of him and always knows more than the man thinks she does. Always.

Smiling, he started his truck, backed out of the stall and went the opposite direction, back to the freeway. A few days of relaxation, and maybe Wednesday, yes, Wednesday would be unnoticed.

Then, he would talk to his woman and know all of his secrets. All of them.

Hank knew too many things. The first time Orlin called Ernando to come to his office in El Cajon and meet their new man, things were wrong.

After saying a small prayer to the Virgin, as was his habit before entering this room, he came into Orlin’s office to see a man in a leather vest and t-shirt with blue jeans and weathered chaps.

Hank looked him over, and Orlin seemed very expectant, with just the hint of a smile on his lips. Then Hank said, “You stopped at Alberto’s on your way here, ate in your truck, and then parked in back of the building by the eucalyptus tree. Your gun has been fired no less than three hours ago. You didn’t dally along the way, but you said a small prayer before coming in the room.”

Ernando pulled his gun and said, “Who the fuck are you, and who do you have following me?”

“Put your gun away, Ernando, now!” Orlin ordered.

Ernando looked at Orlin with disbelief. “But you heard this fucking gringo! How can you not think he has people watching me?”

“Now!” Orlin ordered.

With violentfrustration, Ernando put his gun away.

“Good. Now Hank will tell you how he knows these things,” Orlin said, coming out from behind his desk and looking Ernando over.

“Would you like to try first?” Hank asked Orlin.

“I am searching, and I have no idea,” Orlin said.

“Focus on one of the things, the gun, and that it has been fired today. Begin by removing reasons you know aren’t true, leading you to the reason it is,” Hank suggested.

Ernando didn’t like standing there being observed so closely by either of them, but especially the gringo.

After nearly two minutes, Orlin ended his searching and said, “No, it isn’t there for me. I know you are going to say it, and I’ll smack my head, because I did know it and it was right in front of me. But no. I cannot see it.”

“He’s wearing a pendant of Saint Dismas,” Hank said, and then shifted his eyes to Orlin.

“FUCK!” Orlin shouted with a laugh. “Fuck, how could I miss something so damn obvious! He believes that he has to keep his gun awake, so he will fire it occasionally, to wake its spirit, and enforcers with this belief often wear the pendant of Saint Dismas. Yes, I get it. You didn’t say when, but you did say less than three hours ago.”

Ernando looked down at his pendant, and decided he would take that off as soon as possible.

“But what about the rest? Parking in back by the tree? Food at Roberto’s? You know it is Roberto’s? Not possibly someplace else? Eating in his truck on the way?” Orlin asked.

“He had a small limp coming in, from a small stone in his shoe. He would have taken it out by now, if he didn’t just acquire it. He was focused on getting here, though. So, he parked in the gravel area in back, the only place he could have gotten the pebble. When I parked in back, I noticed that there was only one space left, the one beside the tree,” Hank explained.

“Then I could never have gotten the parking space. I did see the slight limp but didn’t put the two together. Very observant. Go on, please,” Orlin said.

“When he walked by the window over there, we both saw him throw the bag away in the trash. Why would he have the bag if he didn’t eat on the way here?”

Orlin’s jaw dropped. “I recall it perfectly!” Then he laughed, and said, “This is too much!”

“The prayer,” Ernando said through gritted teeth. “How do you know this?”

“Your timing, the speed that you were walking as you passed the window. You reached the door, but you didn’t open it right away. Since you didn’t spend the time removing the pebble, and you are obviously religious, the logical conclusion was a prayer.”

“And he is right. I’ve seen you do this myself, before entering rooms, so I should have been able to guess that as well,” Orlin sighed. “That is really amazing, Hank.”

“Not really. I was just seeing what is there and putting it together. I do it regularly. Just like Ernando wakes the spirit of his gun, I keep the spirit of my eyes awake and watchful.”

Too awake, too watchful, Ernando had thought then, and he thought it now.

He should not have been surprised that Hank spotted him. Hank always spotted the planes first, always saw the hooded lights of DEA trucks in the dark. He demonstrated his trick several times on other enforcers, but while amazed, they were blind to the threat he was.

Hank should have kept his mouth shut, because he saw too much, knew too much. Every day, the secrets of Orlin’s Cartel were being told to Hank as if every passing man was shouting them at him!

How could Orlin not see this? It was so obvious!