BULLET: Lords of Carnage MC Read online

  “I promise.”

  After kissing her goodbye, I drive to the clubhouse to find Angel. I tell him as much as I know about Six’s douchebag ex-boyfriend, and ask my prez for a couple of men to keep an eye on her apartment.

  Angel agrees immediately. “Whatever you need, brother, you let me know. Who do you want?”

  I pause. “Striker and Tank. That oughta be enough for now.”

  He nods. “You got it.”

  I go round up the men and tell them what I have in mind. I ask Striker and Tank to switch off standing watch outside her apartment building for a day or two, and tell them to get in touch with me if they see anything suspicious or even out of the ordinary. I decide I’m going to follow Six myself, including when she’s at work, so I know she’s always safe.

  I’m coming out of Angel’s office when I run into Tweak. “Hey, I got some more intel on Edge for you,” he tells me. “Courtesy of Oz’s man Rodrigo.”

  “No time for that now,” I tell him. “Hang onto it. Right now I got something else I need to deal with.” I pause as a thought occurs to me. “Matter of fact, I might need your assistance on that.”

  Tweak looks at me in surprise. “You sure?”

  “Positive. Ellis will keep for a few more days. Ask Oz to keep eyes on him so he doesn’t disappear.”

  Tweak nods, frowning. “Okay, got it.”

  I don’t blame him for wondering what the fuck is up with me. He doesn’t know everything about why I’m so hell bent on finding my stepdad, but he does know Ellis is the reason I spent two years in prison. And he knows this is the revenge I’ve been seeking for years. Now, it’s right here on my doorstep, so close I can practically touch it. I should be chomping at the bit.

  But Ellis will have to wait.

  I wasn’t able to save my mom from him.

  But I can sure as hell save Six now.

  And nothing is going to stop me from doing that.

  When I go back to my place to tell Six about the surveillance I’ve set up, I ask her to give me a description of the piece of shit she calls Flash. She tells me his actual name is Sam Randall. She describes him as having the looks of a frat boy, with light blond hair in a floppy nineties cut.

  “He’s about your height,” she continues, crossing her arms and squinting at me. “But a lot less muscular. And fewer tattoos.”

  “Got any pictures of him?”

  “No… Well, wait.”

  Six uncrosses her legs and gets up off the couch. Padding into the bedroom, she returns a few seconds later with her laptop. She pulls it open and sits back down. I watch as she peers at the screen, types in a website, then spends a couple of minutes clicking through some screens and typing some more.

  “There,” she finally says, turning the computer to me.

  I lean forward and take a look. It’s what appears to be a governmental records website. A picture of an asshole-looking blond guy stares back at me. Underneath it, a name, date of birth, and a bunch of other details show on the screen.

  “‘Sam Randall’,” I read, and then calculate his age from the birthdate listed there. “No middle name. Thirty-one years old. What the fuck is this, Six?” I ask. “Did you hack into some cop website?”

  “Nah,” she laughs. “No hacking necessary. Finding this stuff is nothing that complicated. It’s easy to find, as long as you know where to look. But…” she hesitates. “If you need me to find any less publicly available info on Flash, I can do that, too.”

  “What else can you do?” I ask, raising a brow.

  “Well,” she continues slowly. “I can create enough documentation to allow me to get ID cards under different names, with enough backup in the system to satisfy anyone doing a background check.”

  “Holy shit,” I marvel. “I’ll have to introduce you to Tweak.”

  “Who?”

  “Our MC’s resident hacker and all-around computer genius.” I chuckle. “Then again, if I do introduce you to him, he’s likely to propose to you on the spot.”

  16

  Bullet

  “Above all,” I tell Six, “just act normal. Like no one’s following you. But I’ll be there all the time. You’re not in any danger. Anything happens with this piece of shit — if he gets anywhere near you — I’ll be on him like white on rice.”

  At first, Six continues to protest, saying she doesn’t want to put me or the MC out by having us watch her. But in the end, I think the prospect of finally being able to stop running from her ex makes her stop arguing.

  Nothing happens for two days. Six goes back to work, and everything returns to normal, except that she continues to stay at my place. Having her in my bed every night is better than I could have imagined. I learn her body — every curve, every place that makes her shiver, every caress that makes her gasp and moan my name. She falls asleep in my arms every night, and I wake her up with my tongue between her legs every morning.

  I don’t talk at all about what’s happening between us, or the future. She doesn’t bring it up, either. This ain’t the time for touchy-feely conversation. It’s easier — and less complicated — just to focus on the task at hand: bringing down this douchebag who calls himself Flash.

  There’s no activity at her apartment building, so I call off Tank and Striker and tell them I’ll be in touch if I need backup.

  On the third day, Six runs out of clean clothes, so she texts me from Rebel Ink saying she wants to go back to her apartment after her shift to grab some stuff.

  I get there before her, and let myself in the back door of the building with the duplicate keys she’s given me. I don’t think Douchebag Flash is smart enough to have noticed the Lords have been keeping an eye on the building — but just in case, I drive over in a cage and leave my cut in the trunk. Once I’m there, I do a quick eyeball perimeter check and don’t see anything unusual. Then I go inside and clear Six’s apartment.

  Except for her sparse mishmash of furniture, it’s empty and silent. It doesn’t look like anyone’s been in here since the night of the break-in. But that doesn’t mean shit. I’m not about to leave her alone in this place for even one second. I go into the bedroom and climb into Six’s small closet, cracking the door just an inch. Then I pull myself into a squat behind the clothes to wait.

  About fifteen minutes after the end of Six’s shift, the key turns in the lock of the recently-repaired door. The light, quick steps tell me it’s her. Six knows I’m in here somewhere — I promised her I would be — but I’ve instructed her not to say a word to me and pretend she’s in here alone.

  She pads through the living room, picking up an object or two, then comes into the bedroom. I hear a bag being set on the bed, and the sound of a zipper. More light footsteps, then a dresser drawer opening. I stay where I am, still poised for attack. Suddenly, the closet door creaks, and Six’s face appears. She starts to reach toward the clothes hanging in front of her, then her body stiffens as she turns and sees me. Her eyes open wide as she starts and suppresses a cry, then flashes me an angry look whose meaning is clear. You scared me!

  I lift one shoulder and give her a smirk. Sorry, babe.

  Shaking her head slightly, she pulls something off of a hanger and slips back out again.

  I stifle a snort of amusement and start to draw myself back into my crouch. Just then, a thud and a cry out in the hall sends me bolting to my feet. I spring out of the closet, just in time to see Six struggling to fight off a tall, lanky blond guy, who has one arm around her throat and another wrenching her arm behind her back.

  With a roar, I launch myself at Flash, ripping him away from Six just as he turns toward me in shock. He reacts quicker than I expect, pulling himself into a crouch and then a roll that gets him away from me. He stumbles up onto his feet and starts to run for the half-open door, reaching it before me, but I’m just close enough to launch myself forward and connect with his back. The momentum propels him into the door itself, slamming it shut as he barrels into it face-first. I grab him by the shirt as he starts to stagger, and swivel him around so he’s facing me. His nose is bloodied, probably broken, and his eyes are leaking tears from the pain, but that’s not good enough. I pull back and throw the most satisfying fucking punch of my life. It connects squarely with his upper cheek and already fucked-up nose, snapping his head back on his neck, and then he’s out, eyes rolling back into their sockets.

  I let go of him and his unconscious body slumps to the floor.

  For a second, there’s silence. Then, a high burble of laughter emerges from Six’s throat.

  “Well, that didn’t take very long,” she giggles. Her voice is shaking, probably from the quick jolt of adrenaline her body no longer needs. She looks down at the prone figure of her ex-boyfriend, and the dribble of blood emerging from his mouth. “Thanks for not getting blood on my rug,” she quips as her body starts to tremble. “I love that rug.”

  “Shhh, babe. It’s okay. It’s over now.” I put my arm around Six and hug her tight against me, to stop her from freaking out. To her credit, she manages to calm herself right down, after clinging to me for a minute and taking a some deep breaths to steady herself.

  Finally, she lets out a shuddering exhale and detaches herself from me. “What now?” she asks me.

  I ask her if she has any rope, and she goes out of the room and brings back a roll of pink duct tape.

  “Will this work?”

  “Perfect.”

  I bind Flash’s hands and feet, and then we prop him up on the floor with his back against the side of the bed. He doesn’t move or stir as the blood continues to trickle from his mouth and nose, staining his shirt.

  “Man. How hard did you hit him?” Six marvels.

  “Not half as hard as I wanted to.” Leaning down, I slap him across t
he face a couple of times with the back of my hand. He groans, his head lolling to one side.

  “Wake the fuck up, Princess,” I bark. “It’s show time.”

  Flash pries his eyes open, squinting up at us as he comes to. He seems to register where he is all at once, because his face goes from confusion to rage in a millisecond.

  “What the fuck?” he roars, wrenching at the tape binding his wrists. He tries to lunge toward us.

  “Breaking into a lady’s apartment is a dick move, Junior.” I lift up a boot and plant it in his chest, kicking him backwards. “You really that hard up for pussy?”

  “Fuck you,” he coughs out, trying to catch his breath.

  “Jesus, Flash,” Six blurts, reaching for my arm just as I start toward him. “Do you want him to break your jaw? Or worse?”

  “Here’s the thing, Junior,” I begin. As calmly as I can, I detach Six’s hand from my bicep and squat down. “You’re stalking a woman who’s under my protection. You’ve broken into her place twice now. I saw you trying to hurt her.” I stare daggers into his eyes. “You’re proving to be a problem. I don’t like problems. The way I deal with them is, I remove them. You get me?”

  “Why can’t you just leave me alone, Flash?” Six cries. “It’s not like you were even that into me when we were together. Why can’t you just take no for an answer? My God. Please, just move on!”

  But instead of answering, this douchebag just opens his bloody mouth and lets out a short, barking laugh.

  “Fuck you, Stace,” he snarls. “You ain’t all that. You weren’t even that good in bed. I could have a hundred bitches better than you any day of the week. I don’t give a shit about you. What I want is the key!”

  Six gapes at him. “What key?”

  “The key that was in my goddamn jacket when you stole it, you bitch!”

  Six raises her hands in a sweeping gesture. “Flash, what the hell are you talking about? I don’t have any damn key! There was no key in your jacket!”

  Douchebag’s eyes widen in disbelief. “Are you fuckin’ serious? Oh, Jesus Christ!” He starts to laugh again. “Are you really so fucking stupid that you took off with it and never even fuckin’ knew you had it?”

  He continues to howl with helpless laughter. My fists clench as I step toward him, eager to flatten his goddamn nose and shatter the cartilage into useless shards. “Listen, Fuckface,” I shout, grabbing him by the collar and hauling him up onto the bed. “We’re done having fuckin’ social hour. What. Fucking. Key?”

  “Take a look if you don’t believe me,” Flash grins. Blood stains his teeth red, making him look like a skinny demon. “There’s a key sewn into that leather jacket Stace stole from me.”

  Six’s eyes meet mine. Mutely, she goes into the bedroom and brings out the oversized jacket she’s always wearing.

  “That’s his?” I growl, a pang of jealousy surprising me.

  Flash’s eyes widen greedily when he sees it. “There. It should be sewn into the bottom part, by the left pocket.”

  Six feels around the bottom hem of the jacket. Her fingers stop as they grasp something hard. Silently, she nods at me.

  “Give it to me, and I’ll leave right now,” Flash wheedles.

  But I shake my head. “Rip it open,” I tell Six. “Let’s see it.”

  Six looks around and then grabs a ball point pen that’s sitting on her dresser. She slides it under the thread and rips enough of it out that she’s able to work the key out from the hem. Once it’s free, she holds it up to show me.

  “See?” Flash coaxes. “That’s all I want. Just give it to me and you’ll never fucking see me again.”

  “Not so fast, Fuckface,” I growl, turning. “You’re gonna need to tell us what that key is for first.”

  I can almost see the calculations he’s doing as he works his swelling jaw. He must want that key pretty fuckin’ bad, because he starts talking almost immediately. “You’re not the only one who’s been on the run, Stace,” he starts, glancing at her. “You remember Paco and Grimm? The key is ours.”

  “Oh, shit,” Six breathes.

  “What does that mean?” I demand. Six starts to answer but I cut her off. “I wanna hear this from Fuckface.”

  Flash ignores the insult. “These guys, Paco and Grimm. Them and me used to do some business together,” he says vaguely.

  “They’re thieves,” Six inserts flatly. “Felons. So’s Flash, for that matter.” She looks at me. “Paco and Grimm are in prison.”

  “Were in prison,” Flash corrects.

  “Flash pulled a heist with them a few years ago. This was before we met. I didn’t know any of this until Flash and I had been together for a while.” Six’s eyes are full of disgust. “It was a jewel heist. But they got caught. Paco and Grimm took the fall, but Flash managed to escape. They’ve been in prison for years, but I guess they’re out now. Huh, Flash?”

  “Yeah,” he agrees. “And if it wasn’t for you taking off, I woulda been long gone by now. I was waiting to fence the jewels when they weren’t so hot.” He shoots Six a look of anger. “But you skipped town with my goddamn jacket, and the key to the fucking safe deposit box.” Flash’s face turns violent as he stares at Six with loathing. But one look from me and he tamps that shit down fast. “I been tracking them through the system. Pac got out last week. Grimm’s hearing was yesterday. They’ll be coming for me. I gotta get that key, Stace.” He tries a pleading look. “I gotta get out of sight. You know what they’ll do if they find me.”

  Six shakes her head. “Jesus, Flash.” Her lip curls. “Why the hell couldn’t you have just told me?”

  “So let me get this straight,” I cut in. “You mean to tell me, you were gonna take the key from Six and leave her to face these two thugs without even a warning?”

  Flash frowns in confusion. “Six?”

  “Babe, we don’t know what these guys Paco and Grimm know. They could be coming for you, to see if you know where he is.”

  Six looks at me, blanching. “Do you really think that’s a possibility?” she whispers.

  “We can’t take any chances. I’m gonna call in the Lords for backup.” I grab my phone out of my back pocket. “Meanwhile, we’re gonna store your friend here in a warehouse nearby for a bit.”

  “What?” Flash chokes out. “You can’t fucking do that! I gotta get gone!”

  “Don’t worry, Princess,” I growl. “You’ll be under guard. No one will be able to hurt your delicate self.” He starts to holler and struggle. “Oh for fuck’s sake,” I mutter. Grabbing the duct tape from the top of the dresser, I pull off a pink strip and tape it over his mouth. Fuckface keeps trying to yell, but now nothing’s coming out.

  “There. Jesus, that’s better, ya fuckin’ pansy.”

  I punch in Angel’s number on my phone and wait for him to answer.

  “Hello, prez?” I say when he does. “You know that situation I was telling you about? Well, turns out I’m gonna need a few more men.”

  17

  Six

  Half an hour later, there’s a knock at my door.

  Bullet lets in two men wearing Lords of Carnage cuts. One of them I immediately recognize from the Smiling Skull.

  “You remember Tank,” he says. “This is Hollis.”

  “Hey there, darlin’,” Tank greets me, one corner of his mouth lifting. “Guess you didn’t take our advice about the farts.”

  “Not the time, asshole,” Bullet warns.

  Tank gives me a quick wink, and the two men follow Bullet into the bedroom. When Flash sees them come in, he starts trying to yell again through the duct tape over his mouth. Tank, who’s the larger of the two, unceremoniously punches him in the jaw, knocking him out cold for the second time tonight.

  I almost feel sorry for my ex-boyfriend. Almost.

  Tank and Hollis load Flash’s unconscious body into a large duffel bag, which Tank tosses over his shoulder like it’s a sack of potatoes. “You know where we’re takin’ him,” Tank mutters at Bullet, with a glance at me. “Hollis is gonna guard him overnight. Angel will send someone to take over in the morning.”