Tease: A Kings of Korruption MC Novel (17 page)

I’m thankful that he’s out of the hospital, though.
 
It means that he’s OK.
 
I’d thought I had lost him.
 
From the moment I’d heard that car peel away, tires squealing on the asphalt, I’d searched for him.
 
I must have looked like a lunatic when the paramedics showed up.
 
I was crying hysterically, on my hands and knees, searching with both hands patting the air, trying to find him.
 
He wouldn’t answer me no matter how much I’d screamed his name.
 
The nightmare I’d suffered the night I lost my vision, and my brother had returned.
 
I was in the middle of nowhere, hurt and afraid, and utterly helpless.

Maybe walking away from that hospital room yesterday had been a mistake, but I stand by my decision.
 
Travis doesn’t handle his emotions well, and although I’d gotten angry, I know that he was only pushing me away because he didn’t know what else to do.
 
I won’t let him get away that easily.
 
Travis deserves to be loved.
 
He just doesn’t know it yet.

I’ve done what I can to keep busy since I got home yesterday.
 
My apartment is spotless.
 
I’ve listened to the last of my books I was to read this week.
 
I wrote and scheduled my blog posts for the upcoming week.
 
I paid my bills and walked my dog.
 
I even baked my world famous, double chocolate chunk cookies, which I usually only make when Daniel begs me to.
 
I’d also avoided my hysterical mother.

The woman has called non-stop, but I just can’t deal with her right now.
 
I have my own issues to deal with, and none of them involve playing the role of her poor, defenseless, little blind girl.
 
If Mom found out about my accident, she would drive me crazy begging me to come back home.
 
I’d never do it, though.
 
I love my independence.
 
I love the city.
 
Most of all, I love the freedom.

Deciding that Travis isn’t coming tonight after all, I change into my pajamas – a tiny little silk tank with matching booty shorts.
 
I’m just crawling into bed when my phone rings again.
 
It’s my mother.
 
Why?
 
Why can’t she just leave me the hell alone?

Pulling the blankets up over my head, I think about Travis and wonder if I’m going to have to track him down.
 
Did he mean what he said when he told me we couldn’t do this?
 
Did my speech about him being afraid make him crawl even further into his shell?
 
Thinking about the way he held me all night makes my eyes fill with tears.
 
I know he feels something for me; I just hope he doesn’t forget that while he’s trying to sort his head out.

WE’VE BEEN CROUCHING ON top of these abandoned shipping containers for two hours now.
 
The containers are perfect for this.
 
Ten of them surround the parking area of the abandoned warehouse.
 
My body is killing me, and I’m beginning to wonder if this was just a distraction when the motorcycles pull into the parking lot.
 
There are six of them.

It’s not all of the Devils, but every one of them is a patched member, and every one of them is going to die tonight.
 
Adrenaline causes the blood to pound through my aching head while we wait for the Crips to show up.
 
I don’t like this plan.
 
Starting a war with the Crips is not a smart move, but we don’t really have a fucking choice in the matter.

Shortly after, a big black Cadillac drives in, entering the circle of shipping containers.
 
We watch as five men climb from the car.
 
Each one wears a blue shirt and baggy jeans.
 
The Crips have arrived.
 
Ryker looks to Reap and nods.
 
Gritting his teeth, Reaper puts his eye back to the scope and makes some small changes to his position.
 
The silencer on the gun makes the shot quieter, and the men on the ground don’t even get a chance to respond before one of the members of the Devils is on the ground, blood pouring from a hole in his head.

After that, everything happens in a blur.
 
As one, each man whips out their guns, ducking and scanning the area for shooters, but we have them surrounded.
 
Taking aim, I fire my shots, praying that I get the son-of-a-bitch that drove into the side of my ride.
 
Gunshots ring through the air followed by shouts and curses as one by one we take out each man on the ground.
 

They shoot back wildly, unable to get a clear shot.
 
Each shot they do take goes right through the shipping container, riddling it with holes.
 
When the last man is on the ground, I look to each container, ensuring that my brothers are OK.
 
There are only nine of us standing on our containers, looking down into the carnage below.

“Reap!
 
I need a fuckin’ medic!” Jase hollers.

Reaper rushes down the side of his container, hurrying toward Jase.
 
“What happened?” he yells as he runs across the lot.

“The fuckers shot me!”

Each of us turns and hurry to the ground focused on Jase, so it takes us all by complete surprise when one of the Crips jumps up and runs to the car he’d arrived in.
 
We all raise our guns, firing shots wildly at the departing car as it peels out of the parking lot and fishtails down the street.

“Fuck!” Ryker yells.
 
“Fuck!
 
Fuck!
 
Fuck!”

That guy getting away is not fucking good.
 
He saw us.
 
Now the Crips are going to know exactly who ambushed their fucking coke deal, and they aren’t going to like it.
 
Remembering Jase, we all turn to where Reaper already has him sitting on the ground against the container, looking him over.

“You fuckin’ pussy,” he growls.
 
“They didn’t fuckin’ shoot you.
 
They
grazed
you.”

“Grazed my fuckin’ ear!
 
My ear!
 
I can’t have a fucked up ear!
 
Ladies don’t want some dumb fuck with a fucked-up ear!” Jase cries.
 
“Fuckin’ fix it!”

“For fuck’s sake.”
 
Reaper stalks off toward the bikes.
 
“Get your ass back to the clubhouse and I’ll put a damned Band-Aid on it.”

Shaking my head, I turn and head for the van, glad that I’m not a fucking prospect anymore.
 
Mouse and our newest prospect have their work cut out for them.
 
There are ten bodies here that need to be disposed of, and it needs to be done fast.
 
The Crips will be back, and soon.

I have my own mess to clean up.
 
I need to go to Laynie and apologize.

The pounding on the door yanks me from my sleep
.
 
Who the hell is at my door in the middle of the night?
 
Throwing back the covers, I run my hands along the wall and hurry to get it before it wakes up the entire neighborhood.

Pressing my face close to it, I call out, “Hello?”

From the other side of the door, I hear, “It’s Travis.”
 

Hurrying to unlock the deadbolt, I call out, “How’d you get in here?”

I swing the door open, and his voice is clearer when he answers.
 
“The douche across the hall let me in.”

“Oh.”
 
I don’t know what else to say.
 
Awkwardness fills the space between us.

“Hi.”

He sounds so unsure.
 
I can’t help but smile.
 
“Hi,” I say softly.

More silence.
 
I can hear the creak of leather and the whisper of his hair as he runs his fingers through it.
 
“So?”
 
I put my hand on my hip, leaning against the open door.
 
“What can I do for you, Travis?”

I know that him showing up here is his way of apologizing, and I know that words aren’t easy to express for him, but he hurt me – again.
 
He needs to know that he can talk to me, but he also needs to apologize and stop pulling that crap with me.

He groans loudly.
 
“Fuck.”
 

Not saying a word, I wait patiently for him to say what I need him to say.

“I hate this shit.”
 
He presses his body up against mine, hands resting on my hips.
 
“You were right.”

My heart swells and a small knowing smile grows on my face.
 
“I always am.”

He chuckles as he puts a hand to my belly, guiding me backward so he can close the door.
 
“Don’t push it.”
 
Taking a seat on the couch, he pulls me down onto his lap.
 
“You were right when you said I was pushin’ you away out of fear.
 
I knew I was gonna fuck this up with you.
 
I fuckin’ knew it.
 
I’m sorry, Laynie.”
 
His hand wraps around the back of my head, and he pulls my face to his.
 
“You walkin’ out of that hospital yesterday fuckin’ gutted me.
 
That’s not gonna happen again.
 
You’re mine, and I’m not gonna do anything else to fuck that up.”