Wild: Tiger's Blood MC (13 page)

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Authors: Heather West

BOOK: Wild: Tiger's Blood MC
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“And there’s one more thing,” Vero countered. “Just how are we supposed to get our hands on those guns? If the Tiger’s Blood assholes show up with the cash, how do I know the Russians won’t just fuck us over?”

 

I stared at her. “This is exactly what I was talking about when you wanted to get the cops involved,” I said slowly. “I told you, there are gonna be some huge logistical issues that we need to work out. And you didn’t listen, Vero. You were fucking convinced that you knew the answer to everything.”

 

Vero sneered at me. “You’re a bitch,” she said softly. “I don’t know why anyone listens to you. You can’t even figure out the rest of the goddamn plan!”

 

She sped off before I could reply. I had half a mind to pull the gun out of my waistband and shoot her in the back but I managed to somehow breathe and talk myself out of it. Vero was right, though; I’d had no real sense of what this plan would do to my girls. And now we were almost about to go at it with no sense of what was right and what was wrong. Maybe the cops would ruin everything. Maybe the Russians would smell a rat and not even show up, in which case I’d have two angry parties coming at me. Elliot would want me dead for the betrayal and Anya would want me dead for letting her precious Calvin get in the way.

 

I swallowed hard. This wasn’t good. I had to go see Elliot or shit was going to get even worse.

Chapter Seventeen
 

 

 

By the time I got to the bar where all the Tiger’s Blood hung out, my heart was pounding in my chest like a jackhammer. My gaze darted around, checking each corner for some lurking biker with a gun or a hammer. I knew that I wasn’t welcome here, but I didn’t know what to do. If I didn’t talk to Elliot and find out what was going on, shit was going to go south. Fast.

 

I snuck around to the back of the bar. There was a gravel lot with a few cars up on blocks and half an old oil drum being used as a barbecue. The air smelled like cigarettes and toxic fumes and I coughed, muffling the sound in the leather sleeve of my jacket It was hotter than hell but I didn’t dare take it off; my skin was so pale that I knew I’d glow bright white in the darkness.
Easy, Persephone
, I told myself as I slipped close to the building. The back door was open and I could see the kitchen, just barely, through a crack. Some workers were laughing and chattering away in Spanish as they cooked and slung drinks. Stepping close, the scent was a heady mix of rice and grilled meat. My mouth watered as I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
When all of this is over, I’m going out for a nice steak.
If I’m still alive at the end, that is.

 

Finally, I spotted a locked door to the right of the kitchen. It was dark, with windows overhead.
Bingo
.
This must be what I need: a storeroom!
I walked closer and pulled a knife and a tool out of my pocket, angling for the lock. With my jaw set and my teeth grinding together, I worked hard at the metal clasp until it came apart in my hands. The metal pieces dropped to the gravel with a tiny
clink
and I pushed the door open.

 

Inside, the room was dark and smelled like grease. I tried to feel the wall for a switch but there was nothing there. Instead, I saw a bulb hanging on a naked wire from the ceiling. I frowned and pulled my cell phone out, putting the flashlight on and sweeping it around the room. The only things on the ground were a hammer and an old wooden crate. Even though it didn’t look particularly sinister to me, a chill passed down my spine. I realized that I was completely in over my head. I had no idea about how Tiger’s Blood behaved when I wasn’t around, and I was starting to discover that I didn’t want to find out.

 

My heart was racing as I crept towards the other side of the room. There was a door—bolted and locked—with a thin strip of bright yellow light underneath. I figured that on the other side was the bar, and the noises overhead were coming from the bedroom where I’d interrogated Elliot. Even though it hadn’t been more than a few days ago, it already felt like half a lifetime had passed. Already since then I’d seen my club take steps towards getting pulled apart and rising up against me. But I couldn’t think about that anymore, not now. I had a fucking job to do, and I was going to get it done.

 

There was music playing in the bar and I waited until the volume was at an ear-splitting level before gently shoving the door open. Yellow light spilled into the grimy room and I jumped back in a rush, my breath catching in my throat as I tried to keep from being discovered. With my stomach churning, I slowly slipped out of the room.

 

Once I was in the bar, I relaxed a great deal. It was packed, there was a bad on stage, and lots of drunk people swaying around and singing loudly. The room was filled with smoke and I saw a lot of women and guys who weren’t wearing Tiger’s Blood jackets. For the first time in quite a while, I actually felt really lucky. This was much better than if I’d just stumbled on Elliot alone. At least now I wouldn’t have to deal with him.

 

The bartender, Minnie, remembered me. She pushed a drink at me and winked. “Did Elliot ever find you?” She grinned at me. “He sure was looking!”

 

“Oh, he found me,” I said, too quietly for Minnie to hear. Slipping a twenty-dollar bill across the counter, I flashed her the biggest grin I could muster. “Don’t tell him I’m here tonight!” I said loudly, toasting my drink in the air.

 

Minnie nodded. She pretended to zip her lips and then mimed throwing the key over her shoulder. “You got it,” she said with a grin. I had to grin back; I had no idea whether or not she was full of shit but for once, I wanted to trust someone. I wanted to believe that not everyone in the world was out to do me harm.

 

I couldn’t stop thinking about Dima and his band of thuggish Russians. Sure, Vero could manipulate them with sex
for now
. She wouldn’t be able to once they were used to her. Aside from a few exceptions, that was how men were. They didn’t care about you if you were old news. I swallowed hard and took a long gulp of my drink. The alcohol burned my throat but it was a welcome sensation: it reminded me that I was alive and on a mission. Vero may have gotten one deal out of these guys, but her actions made me concerned for the future. What would happen if Dima decided he was sick of getting sucked off by Vero and wanted another woman? What if they tried to hurt one of us? What if, god forbid, something happened to Lydia again?

 

I had to look out for my girls, even if it was the last thing I did. And I didn’t want to hurt our newfound deal with the arms’ dealers, but that was something I was going to have to deal with. We’d find a new supplier if we had to; there was always looking for someone to sell guns to. But it would be the difficulty of moving past such a betrayal. That was what would really be hard. Not an attack, but the moving on part.

 

Someone grabbed my shoulder and spun me roughly around. I was confused for a matter of seconds until I saw Elliot’s face looming in the darkness. He was giving me such a sharp look that my mouth went dry and I swallowed hard. In my chest, my heart started up again, thumping wildly.

 

“Hi,” I said. Elliot came closer; I could smell his musk and between my legs began to grow wet and slippery again. I remembered my earlier action of masturbating while Vero worked on the Russians and I shivered, hard.

 

Elliot shook his head. He was frowning intensely and despite my fear, another hard shiver of desire coursed through my body. “Where the fuck did you go?”

 

I shrugged. “I had business to take care of,” I said. I had to whisper loudly. The bar was so loud that I could barely hear Elliot. His lips moved a full second before I could hear his words.

 

“Yeah, right,” Elliot scoffed. “That’s not the kind of business you take care of, that’s what you make your girls do.”

 

I stared at him, my heart caught in my throat. Was it possible that somehow Elliot had already found out about our rendezvous with Dima and the Russians? Had Anya called him about Calvin? Had Vero said something?

 

My head was swimming. Without taking my eyes off Elliot, I downed the rest of my drink and slammed the glass on the counter.

 

“I’m not talking to you about this,” I announced. Minnie walked over and passed me two full shot glasses. Even though I figured one of them was for Elliot, I took both anyway, until my head was swimming in whiskey. I closed my eyes and leaned my head against my hand.
This wasn’t going the way I’d wanted it to. Not at all
.

 

Elliot grabbed my wrist, sending my head flying. We were face-to-face, eye-to-eye, our foreheads almost touching. The tension in the room was so thick that I could have cut it with a knife but all I could do was stare into Elliot’s mesmerizing green eyes. The last time we’d done this, we’d been nineteen years old and full of love and naïveté. Nothing would ever be like that again, so why did it feel like this?

 

“Come upstairs,” Elliot hissed loudly. “We need to talk.”

 

I swung off the stool, my head spinning from the booze.
I need to work on my tolerance
, I thought with an amused snort as I followed Elliot through the crowded bar. He wove such a fast path through the crowd that once or twice I thought I was going to lose him.

 

In the room, I sat down on the bed and spread my knees, letting my elbows rest on them. “What do you want?”

 

Elliot came closer and I inhaled sharply. I thought he was going to touch me but he stopped just shy of where I sat. Glaring at me, he shook his head. “You need to tell me what’s going on,” Elliot said in a low voice. “You shouldn’t even
be here
right now, do you know that?”

 

I shrugged. “I had to come see you,” I said in a rush. “There’s so much shit going on. One of my girls is flipping—” When I realized what I was doing, I clamped my lips tightly together. “I mean, one of my girls is upset,” I said, this time in a calmer voice. “She thinks you’re setting Calvin up.”

 

Elliot laughed drily. “Calvin is a fucking moron,” he said in a low voice. “He doesn’t know what’s good for himself or good for the club. When he gets back, I’m kicking him out.”

 

There was an odd metallic taste in my mouth, and I wondered if it came from discussing club business with someone who was technically a rival. Elliot didn’t know anything about the Amazons and for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why I was telling him. It was like he’d slipped some kind of truth serum into my drink and now he was playing me exactly as he wanted.

 

“Look,” Elliot said sharply. “We have to agree right now that shit is messy. But this doesn’t have anything to do with us,” he added. “You girls can’t just go around looking for vengeance and attacking random strangers because they’re men,” he said. “Just because my guys broke into your party doesn’t mean they’re rapists.”

 

My mouth felt odd again. I racked my brain, trying to remember our previous conversation. Sure, I’d told him about Lydia’s attack. But I hadn’t said anything yet about Vero, and what she’d supposedly seen.

 

I shook my head. “They’re not doing anything random,” I said. “You and your guys don’t have to worry,” I added, praying that Elliot wouldn’t be able to tell that I was lying. “They’re just suspicious right now. After all, Anya’s with Calvin. She doesn’t want to hate you guys. None of us do.”

 

Elliot stared at me. Finally, he sat down in a wooden chair that was pushed against the door. He ran his hands through his hair and shook his head. “I don’t know what to believe anymore,” Elliot said slowly. “Everything’s going to hell right before my eyes.”

 

I couldn’t help but gasp a little. It was as if, and not for the first time, Elliot had read my mind completely.

 

Elliot smirked. “What is it? Cat got your tongue?” He winked at me and all of a sudden I was transported back to when Elliot and I were just normal people in love. I stared at him headily for a few moments, not wanting to believe that it was really him. It was easier to think that Elliot was nothing to me, that I didn’t care about what happened to him
or
his goddamn club.

 

But deep down, I knew that wasn’t true.

 

“Nothing,” I scoffed. “My girls are giving me grief right now, though.” I paused, wanting so badly to tell him about Vero’s accusations. “And it’s not really something that I think is gonna get any better with time.” I stretched and Elliot followed the lines of my body, up all the way to the ceiling. “They’re all dying for a revolution, whatever the fuck that means. It’s like they all forgot that they’re part of the Amazons.” I snorted, rolling my head from one side to the other. “You know, when I formed an MC, it wasn’t because I thought my girls deserved anything like autonomy. There’s a clear hierarchy, you know? You don’t form a group like that just to rip it apart from the inside out—it would be like electing an anarchist as president.”

 

Elliot laughed. It was a deep laugh, a belly laugh, a laugh that rumbled through the room. “I know,” he said, shaking his head. “I know. That’s the same kind of shit I’ve been dealing with,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s exactly what I’ve had on my plate for the past few weeks. It’s like these guys don’t get that I’m in charge, that they have to listen to me.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s for their own goddamn good and yet they’re bent on ripping the club apart.”

 

I swallowed hard. I’d never imagined Elliot and I to have the same kinds of problems, especially now, all these years later. For a moment, I wanted to tell him the truth. The whole truth: Vero’s plan, Lydia’s assault…and my true identity. But I zipped my lips closed without saying a thing.

 

“So,” Elliot said lazily. He grinned at me and my stomach fluttered. “What exactly have you been doing? Sneaking around doing recon for your club?”

 

I swallowed again and narrowed my eyes. “What the fuck kind of question is that?” I snapped. “You think I’m nosing around here for something for
my
club?”

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