Raw: The Ultimate Mc Collection (152 page)

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Authors: Honey Palomino

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Short Stories & Anthologies, #Anthologies, #Romance, #Romantic Suspense, #Anthologies & Literature Collections, #Genre Fiction, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense

BOOK: Raw: The Ultimate Mc Collection
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“Yeah, I’m not surprised,” I replied.  “Fuck.”

“Colt, we have to call the police,” Sam said.  

“No, we don’t,” I replied.

“Well, what about Jesse’s body?” she asked.

“I have some people coming.  They’ll take care of everything.  I think you’d best be getting on the phone and canceling the rest of the tour.  I don’t think Jett’s going to be coming back anytime soon, and she certainly won’t be performing for awhile.  Don’t release anything about the murder.  That’s what this sick fuck wants, is for us to react and make a big deal in the media about this.  It’s not going to work the way he thinks, though.”

“I don’t understand, who is coming?” Seth asked.

“The Loyal Bastards Motorcycle Club.  My brothers.  We take care of our own, we don’t turn our bodies over to the fucking cops.”

As if on cue, another knock sounded at the door.  When I opened it, I had never been more grateful to see a long line of cuts file through the door.

If Sam and Seth weren’t already wide-eyed, they were now.  Six huge tattooed men streamed in, standing over Jesse’s body, their faces filled with rage that matched my own.

“Brothers, thank you for coming,” I said.  I had met these brothers several times over the years, our clubs often helping each other out when business demanded it.

Hal, the President of our Portland chapter, hugged me.

“I’m so sorry to hear about Jesse, Colt,” he said, his arm on my shoulder.  “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I said. “It’s all fucked up, man.  It’s all my fault.  Did Rusty fill you guys in?”

“He did.  He also told me you aren’t to blame.  Blaming yourself isn’t going to help anyone, Colt.  Right now, it’s time to take care of business.  We’re here to help in any capacity, anything you need, brother.”

“Thank you, Hal, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that.”  I turned to the rest of the club and gestured towards the couch.  “This is Sam and Seth. They’re going to hang out with you for a while.  I need to go find Jett.  Rusty and the rest of my club are going to be here soon to take care of Jesse.  In the meantime, I’m going to need to borrow a bike so I can go look for Jett.”

“Of course, brother, here you go,” Hal said, handing me his keys.  “We’re parked right out front.  Mine’s the first on the right.  You got a full tank of gas.”

“Thank you, Hal,” I said.  “These two need to make some phone calls to cancel Jett’s tour, but under no circumstances are they to call the police or tell anyone about Jesse.  Please make sure they’re monitored closely.”

“You got it, Colt, we won’t let them out of our sight,” Hal said, his huge hulking frame shadowing both Sam and Seth as they sat bewildered and quiet on the couch, “or earshot.”

“You’re just going to leave us here?” Seth asked, his voice full of confusion.

“That’s right. I’d suggest you’d try not to get away, either,” I replied.  

“But I can’t stay here! I have work to do —,” he protested.

“Not anymore you don’t,” I said over my shoulder as I walked out of the room.

I stopped at the hotel lobby to ask for directions to Rhododendron, and five minutes later, I was on the back of Hal’s bike and flying down the freeway, the pouring rain pelting me relentlessly.  I didn’t care.  I barely noticed.

I had one thing on my mind, and one thing only.

I had to get to Jett.  If it was the last thing I did, I had to find her.  I didn’t have much of a plan, other than to drive down every fucking street in that stupid town, if that’s what it took.  

Seth said it was an hour outside of town, but it took me over an hour and a half to get there with the heavy rain.  Several times I felt the bike start to slip on the slick asphalt, but somehow I kept it upright.  Not only did the rain make the roads slippery, but it was almost impossible to see.  

I flew down Interstate 84, weaving in and out of traffic.  Everyone had slowed down, but I didn’t have time for that.  I knew it was dangerous, but I didn’t care.  Jett’s life was on the line, and I had already fucked up so badly, I couldn’t afford to do it again.

My exit approached, and I followed the signs to Highway 26, driving through Gresham and then finally turning onto the highway.  The clerk at the hotel had told me it was a straight shot from there, and for the next ten miles, I went as fast as the bike would take me.  The road was open, wet, slick and dark.  The thick forest on both sides of the road seemed to embrace me as I fought my way through the slashing rain.

By the time I had gone through downtown Sandy, I could see why Jett had fallen in love with this part of the country.  It was lush, rugged - yet pristine - the forested landscape practically pulsing with life around me.  It was peaceful, quiet.  Definitely a place to escape to.  A place to find the solitude that she must crave every day of her life.

She must feel awful, I thought.  She must blame herself.  But it’s not her fault, it’s mine.  I should have known better than to leave Jesse out there alone.  I should have at least stayed within earshot, but I didn’t.  Instead, I let my horniness get in the way, and I gave in to Jett’s teasing.  What kind of man was I that I would put my dick above the safety of the people I loved?

Loved.

I hadn’t loved anyone for a long time, other than my family of brothers.  That was different.

Jett was different.

She wasn’t like any woman I had ever known.  And I had known a lot.  I had made up for time spent behind bars in a big way once I got out.  I had hit puberty not long before the explosion, and was just beginning to understand how much pleasure could be found in a woman’s body.

If I was honest, I would admit that it had all begun with Jett.

From that first stupid kiss on the playground, to years later, when we would walk home from school together every day.  I would often catch myself watching her, studying her.  Watching the way she moved, the way her hips curved, or how her eyes sparkled when she laughed.  She was like a chameleon to me.  Always changing, always some new lilt to her laugh that I hadn’t heard before.  Sometimes, I’d catch a whiff of her hair after she had used a new shampoo, and it would linger in my mind for days.

Back then, I think a part of me always knew we would end up together.  But I wasn’t counting on the explosion.  I wasn’t counting on being ripped out of my life because of a childish mistake I had made.  I wasn’t counting on her becoming famous, or needing my help because of a fucking madman.  I wasn’t counting on all the shit that would get in the way over the years.  But now that they were there, I was determined to slay every one of them until there was nothing left between me and Jett but skin.  

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

CRAZY JACK

The rain kept pelting the top of the car.  When Jett jumped in that car outside of the hotel, I was ready.  I knew I needed to be in my car, ready to go, waiting. Waiting for my dirty girl.  Even the rain wouldn’t wash her clean, no matter how hard it came down. It wouldn’t stop as much as I wished it would.  I didn’t want to think about Mother right now.  But the rain.  The fucking rain.  The tin shed.  The yelling.  Mother.

No!

I kept trying to shake it off, making myself count backwards from ten, to keep myself present, to remember that I wasn’t there anymore, but every ping of every drop landing on the metal roof as I followed Jett out of the city made me have to start over again.

Ten, nine, eight….it’s not real anymore, Jack, it’s all in the past.

Seven, six…ping, ping, ping….stop it, please stop!

Ten, nine, eight….Mother’s dead now, Jack, it’s all over.

Seven, six, five….yes, that’s it.  Jett.  Think about Jett.  You’re here for Jett.

Four, three…ping! ping! PING!…The shed is still there, Jack, still waiting for you, Mother wants you to go in there, Jack.

Shaking, I gripped the steering wheel tighter, my eyes glued to Jett’s taillights in front of me.

Ten, nine, eight….

****

I approached him from behind.  He was sleeping in a chair in the hallway.  I knew how to come up on him silently, I had learned it in the war.  I had learned it the hard way.  The only way.

They tried to give you instructions, but you had to learn on your own, really.  Nobody could tell you how to act in a moment like that, when you’re forced to choose between some stranger’s life and your own.  You shoot, and you figure it out later.  Or, you fight, and you figure out each move in the moment.  Nothing about war is predictable, so you have to be prepared for anything.  You learn, you adapt, and you find clever ways to kill people.

It’s part of the job.

Killing that biker had been part of the job, too.  I had a mission.  A goal.  And he was standing between that goal and me.  It helped that he was an easy target, dozing off in a chair with his back turned.

He didn’t have time to struggle, or fight, or even stand up.  A quick slice, and he was gone - a bloody pile of useless, dirty flesh.

I could have gone into the room then.  But I knew the other one wouldn’t have been so easy to take, and I wasn’t in any hurry.  Jett was already filthy, time wasn’t really an issue.  I had plenty of time.  I knew killing this one would shake her up, more than any of my packages and letters ever had, and I wanted to see what would happen, how she would react.

So, I left him there, knowing they would find him as soon as they crawled out of their bed of sin.  Let them have their night.  After the entire scene at the strip club, I was disgusted with her anyway.  She had acted like a whore.  

I had sat at the bar for hours, watching in the mirror behind the bar at her antics with the strippers.  She was shameless, that’s what she was.  She needed a little humility.  She needed to realize that she couldn’t just do whatever she wanted in life, and there not be any consequences.  

She had people to think about.  An image to uphold.  

She had been my saint, my savior, my companion, in my darkest hours, the one sweet voice of hope singing in my ears as I killed man after man, their slick blood dripping off my hands as I closed my eyes and listened to my sweet love whispering in my ear.  

If she had meant that much to me, I could only imagine what she meant to other people.  Surely, there were other, darker souls out there than mine.

By cleansing Jett, I would essentially be saving humanity, giving the human race just a little bit of hope back.  The world was a painful, dirty place, and it needed the kind of light that only my Jett could provide.

By the time she pulled off the highway onto a desolate, gravel road, we were the only two drivers under the dark, grey sky.  I drove past her, continuing on the highway a half mile or so, where I pulled over and into a small turnoff.  It was perfect.  Quickly, I ran back down the highway to where she had turned off, and then hid back in the dense trees as I made my way down the side of the gravel road.  The road went on for several yards until it finally veered off to the right and down a small hill.  If it had been nighttime, I wouldn’t have been able to see the cabin at all.  Hidden at the bottom of the hill, her car was parked right in front of it.  I snuck up to the cabin, and peered in the window.  She was standing in front of the fireplace, staring off into space.  She had taken her shoes off, making me think she was probably going to be staying here for a while.  It was perfect.  

She was exactly where I wanted her.  

As long as nobody else came along, I could put my plan into place perfectly.

My cock twitched as I realized just how close I was to her.  I sniffed the air, a faint hint of lavender lingering in the air.  

The rain had let up as I was looking through the window, and I hadn’t even noticed until now.  Without the sound of that tin roof over my head, I could almost enjoy the rain.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

JETT

 

The cabin was exactly as I had left it, if you overlooked the inch of dust on everything.  It was almost as if I had never left.  Only I had, unfortunately.  

If I had never left, like I had fantasized about doing that weekend years ago? Everything would be different.

Colt wouldn’t have his life ruined.

Jesse wouldn’t be dead.

All those people that work for Jett, Incorporated - Seth, Sam, King, everyone at the label, the secretaries, the executives to everyone on the road with us, the roadies, the musicians in my band, the techs, my stylists, the production managers, the lighting guys, the sound guys, the merchandise managers, the tour manager, and all of their spouses and children? They would have all gone on to find other jobs by now.  Jett, Inc. would be a distant memory to them.  

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