Wed to the Bad Boy (24 page)

Chapter 3

Cullen

Just being around her again… It was like my mind was being crushed in a storm.  I rode on autopilot, letting the raging engine rumble through the turmoil inside me. 

Before I knew it I was in front of our - my strip club.  Lala had made me so damn mad, I didn’t even think before walking out.  Just took off.

It felt great, until I realized exactly where I was.

I hesitated before climbing off my bike.  The last thing I needed was to run into Brandy.  Last time we saw one another, the bitch had threatened to “tear my throat out” if she saw me again. 

Ah, fuck it.  I’d needed a break.  Bitch could rot in the hell she’d made for herself.  I’d had nothing to do with that.  I’d gotten sick of her shit, and she’d gotten pissed with me.

It may have had something to do with the fact that my hands were on another stripper.  After Brandy’s constant nagging, it’d been nice to have something friendlier in my lap, a sweeter tongue down my throat.  Hey, I’d never lied to her.  I was never a one-chick kind of guy and she knew it.  That didn’t mean she’d liked what she knew.

I parked my motorcycle against the building, up on the sidewalk and near to the wall.  It was safer that way, and it wasn’t like anyone was going to have it towed.  This was my territory, and Kat’s Cat House was under my protection.  Hell, Fire and Steel were joint partners.  This was the only thing the mob didn’t own on the damn block.

It was the last place I needed to be, but I didn’t give a shit.

It wasn’t anywhere near Layla, or any memories of Beast.

It wasn’t a fancy strip club, not the kind that you’d see in a nice part of town.

No, this was a bit of brick painted black, squatting across the tracks like a wad of tar. 

Maybe it was the night.   Maybe it was Layla being back.  Whichever, I looked at what had been our playground.  Beast and me.   Now, I tried to see it like Layla would.   Not that I’d ever be stupid enough to bring her. 

The pink trim hurt my eyes, even in the dark.  Half the neon bulbs were burnt out and the foundation had gone to rot three decades past. 

Whoever’d originally built this shithole into a honeypot had a sour sense of humor.  The Cat House was the kind of place that wouldn’t let you forget you were on the wrong side of them.  Beast and I’d gotten used to the wrong side of things a long while ago though.  It’d been ours.  And now, it was just mine.

“Hey, man.  Been a while,” the bouncer, Monty, greeted me.  “I heard about Beast.  I’m sorry.” Beast.  Fucking Beast.  Why’d I think I could get away from it all here?

I flinched, then gave him a nod.  A quick duck inside the windowless club, and it was like I was in another world.

More neon lights, a dark atmosphere, and grungy carpets greeted me as I walked through the crowds of people.  It was open twenty-four hours, but it always seemed like it was the middle of the night.

I needed a drink.

“Your usual?” Sandy was working the bar.   “A bourbon and a dance?” she suggested.  “Or two?”

“Yeah, I’ll take the dance, and the drink.” I chuckled.  I needed a break, and something that stung on the way down.  Something that made me numb.

Besides, some T & A couldn’t hurt.

As long as Brandy wasn’t working.

Sandy laughed in my face as she slid me a bourbon.  “Brandy isn’t in, but I’ll send you a new one.  Real pretty.  Been curious about the bikers.”

“Sure.  Why the hell not?”

I had to hand it to her, Sandy was just as gorgeous as the strippers, but she didn’t care to dance.  And she was smarter than most people gave her credit for.  She saw everything.  I’d known her for years, and I respected her.  Any man who so much as touched her would get decked.

First by Sandy herself, then by whoever was on protection duty.  Then by me.

She was like a little sister to me, in a way.

I walked away from the bar and up the stairs to the VIP room.  The room was mine whenever I wanted it, regardless of the time or the place.  It was also two in the afternoon, so it wasn’t like anyone would be up there, anyways.  I sat on the couch with my drink in hand and waited.

I needed a distraction, and hopefully Sandy’s new girl would provide it.  Thinking about Lala had my insides boiling.  I could have fooled myself, said I was pissed at her, but the truth was that I was pissed for her.  I needed to find the fuckers who had killed her brother.  I needed to forget why she had left.  And why she was back.  I needed something to drive out the old memories of promises made and broken.  And I needed to ignore the future beyond avenging the man who had been my club brother and best friend.  Because there was no future.  Not with Layla.  I wanted it, but there was a death to avenge and the President to deal with.  And who knew what Layla wanted. 

The only thing I knew was what I needed to do.

Vengeance, justice
—the words echoed in my head with the pounding of my blood.

“Are you ready, big boy?” A young woman walked into the room wearing little more than a pair of panties.  She had long dark hair, a longer waist, and even better legs.  A month ago—hell, a week ago—I would have been ready to go, but as she started to dance I realized something.

She wasn’t what I wanted.

She wouldn’t replace Layla.

Not her eyes, or her smile.  And certainly not the feel of her warm body up against mine.

Fuck.

I couldn’t be here.  I couldn’t do this.

I got up from the leather sofa, pushing  off me.

“What the hell?” The dancer looked absolutely pissed.

“Don’t worry, honey.  You’ll still get your money.  I just got some business to handle.”

I slipped some cash in her hand and pushed through the curtain of the room, moving through the building and out the front doors.  I needed fresh air.  I needed a bike ride.  And I needed to see her again.

Layla.

I’d promised to protect her.  I’d promised to make sure she was safe.  And I was going to do exactly that.

***

“What the hell are you doing here?” Shit.  That voice.  I turned around in the middle of the parking lot to see Brandy standing there, waiting.  Looking at me with those hard eyes.

I was in a whole mess of trouble.  This was just the bitch I was trying to avoid.

“Not now, Brandy,” I barked and hoped it would be enough to keep the woman at bay.  This was the last thing I needed, and it only compounded my anger.

“What you mean, not now? Motherfucker, I’ll say what I want when I want.” She charged toward me but I turned my back to her, taking a claw right to the neck.

If she hadn’t been a woman, I would have knocked her sweet ass out.

“Asshole! Where the hell you think you’re going?” Her blonde hair whipped as she came at me again.

This time, I couldn’t help it.  I let her hit me a few times, but when she went to claw my face, I had to deflect her.  I grabbed her and knocked her right on her ass, making sure I didn’t hurt her, but the message was clear.  I didn’t fuck women up, but I sure as hell didn’t take their shit, either.

“Fuck, Rage, what the hell?” she asked, ass in a puddle.  She was halfway to tears, but I couldn’t help but laugh.

She got exactly what she deserved.

“Brandy, I don’t have time for your bullshit right now.  Shit’s going down at the club, and I sure as hell don’t need your ass acting all crazy.”

“Why don’t you get your buddy to come and tell me to fuck off again like last week, huh?” What a fucking bitch.  I clenched my fist but held it.  They called me Rage, but Beast and me, we’d had a rule.  No beating up women.  Brandy, though, she was so close – so close – to tasting my fist.

Before she could open her mouth again, I hurled the truth at her.  “Because he’s
dead
.”

Her face glossed over as she tried to form the right words.  She hated Beast, but she knew she’d fucked up.

“Man, I’m sorry.  I didn’t—”

“Yeah, that’s right.  You didn’t.  What, too high to actually pay attention at work? I know they told you all.  The whole club knows, but you don’t? Bullshit, Brandy.  I’m sick of your junkie shit.  Don’t fucking come around me again, or I’ll more than leave you on your ass.”

Maybe I’d let my temper get the better of me.  Maybe I’d snapped.  But I wasn’t going to hurt her.

She didn’t know it, but I never would. 

As I got on my bike, I laughed.  Hell, it was funny, really.  Brandy might have hated Beast, but it was Beast who’d always been the better man.  “Never hit a woman,” he’d said.  “You hit a man, you beat him.  You hit a woman, you beat yourself.”

Turning away from Brandy, I fired the engine and got the fuck out of there, going where I should have in the first place.  Not back to Layla, no.  I needed space away from all the women in my life.  Instead, I went to my second home.

The clubhouse.

***

“Where in the hell have you been?” Mick sounded more cranky than angry.  “We’ve been trying to get ahold of you all fucking afternoon.” Glass of bourbon in hand, he reached behind the counter and grabbed the bottle, pouring me one too.

It was much needed.

Crow wasn’t as happy to see me.  “You out getting yours while we sit here and try to come up with a game plan, lover boy?” Ah, there it was, that little bit of anger they all had, brewing beneath the surface.  The blame they all had.

I was called back to the clubhouse.  It wasn’t my fault.  But if I’d been there, if I’d waited another ten minutes, Beast might not have been ambushed, or we might have caught those who did it.

Sean died because I wasn’t there.  We all knew it.

They might not want to blame me, but everyone did.  Even me.

Especially me.

“Got business in the conference room.  You up for that?” Mick asked, his anger turned to sympathy as he got up, patting my shoulder hard.  “Come on, VP, we need you in there before we can start church.”

So I stood up and turned and walked into the conference room.  Bones was already there.

“They’ve claimed their kill.” It was the first words he said to me, his fists clenched.  “Fucking on the internet bragging about that shit.”

I chewed on my lip, my blood roaring to a slow boil.

“Who?” I had to be measured now, or I would fucking lose it.

“Hound’s Breath, that fucking tiny little gang of assholes out of Wilkinsburg.  They killed Beast.”

Hound’s Breath were a worthless gang of high school dropouts.  A bunch of random teens left gangless after a savage turf war and a bust in the area five years earlier.  Must’ve been growing bigger than we thought.  Staying educated about the gangs and clubs around us was the single most important thing we could do for the territory.  Why had we fallen so far behind?

“Bullshit.  Those kids weren’t old enough to do what they did.  I doubt they know how to shoot a fucking gun.” Good ol’ Crow.  He looked at the whole world like they were children, incapable of anything other than small tantrums.  Violence wasn’t something he thought they were capable of.  “Couldn’t have been them.”

“They claimed the kill.  No doubt it was them.” Bones shook his head and looked around the room.

Crow should have known better.  We were kids once, too.

“Shot good enough to take him out with three in the back.  They hid from him.  Cowards.” Mick ground out each word, the rage clear in his eyes.  “We have to take them out.”

Crow still looked doubtful.

“They aren’t just a bunch of kids, and you know it,” Bones spoke now as we all sunk into our seats.  “They’ve got some OG leaders, some coming in from Philly, the survivors of a massive gang war.  The broken pieces.  They might not be as small as we were thinking, either.”

“It makes sense,” I said.  “Those kids have been getting bolder, making moves on surrounding territories.  They’ve been moving in on us for months.  Those leaders—whoever, whatever they are—have taken hold of them.  They aren’t just a bunch of delinquent kids.  They are a real threat.”

“You got any info from Donal O’Grady or his boys?” Crow asked Bones.  Irish Mob would know shit before anyone else.

“Mob don’t know more, or they ain’t talking.  Want to stay out of it.” Bones shrugged.

“If we give Donal a reason to poke his fat nose in, you know he’ll take over.  Make it all about what the mob can get out of it, and leave us wanting our revenge with no results.” I should’ve kept my mouth shut, but it was the truth.  I had friends in the mob—hell, I had family in the mob—but I knew how they operated.

I was starting to comprehend the truth.  Hound’s Breath were beyond what we all thought they were.

And we had underestimated them.

“We have to take them out.  Completely and totally.  Go after their business then go after them.  One by one until the threat is gone and the territory is ours.” Eric laid out the strategy.

First, we were going to go after their suppliers.  Get rid of all their income, all the resources they had coming into the community.  Then we were going to take out their leaders.  Then each and every one of them.