Bayou Devils MC: The Complete Series Page 8

  Chapter Seven

  Storm

  I’m acting like a fucking chick. What kind of man stands at his kitchen window, desperate to get a glimpse of his insanely hot neighbor? And yet, here I am. My window looks directly into her living room and just behind that is her kitchen. My gaze keeps being pulled back to that spot where I bandaged her knee up today, remembering the way that I was drawn to her like she’s a goddamn siren. No matter how much I tried to fight it, I was heading for disaster. The moment I looked at her, I wanted to bend her over the nearest surface and fuck her until I couldn’t stand anymore, but it’s more than that. I’m dying for just a flash of her face, just one second where I feel like I can breathe again. I want to drown in her blue eyes because it erases the pain that’s constantly beating under my skin like a heartbeat.

  I shouldn’t be doing this. A long time ago, I promised myself that I would never let anyone else get close to me. Resisting her is going to be a battle, and even after just meeting her a few hours ago, I fear it’s a battle I’m going to lose. But I can’t. It’s better for everyone that I stay away from her. Even if her smile chases away demons that I thought would haunt me forever.

  “Shit,” I curse, pulling my phone out of my pocket and calling Streak, the club’s tech guru. He’s been with us for four years, and the guy can find anything about anyone.

  “What’s up, Brother?” he answers, and I only have a moment to remind myself that I shouldn’t do this before I’m answering him.

  “I need you to look into someone.”

  “Absolutely,” he practically shouts into the phone, and I can hear the smile in his voice. He lives for this shit. “What do you know about ‘em? And what do you want?”

  “Her name is Ali, she’s a reporter, and she lives next door to me. That’s really all I know, and I want everything you can find.”

  The phone falls silent, and I pull it away to make sure he’s still on the line. When I press it back to my ear, the only sound is the clicking of keys. “Is this, uh, personal?”

  “Yeah.”

  “She important?” he asks, hesitantly.

  “Just get me the information,” I growl into the phone before hanging up on him. I swear to God, these fucking bikers gossip worse than old women but my life and my past have never been acceptable topics. Everyone knows that.

  Turning away from the window, I lean back on the counter and cross my arms over my chest, doing my best to resist the urge to go back over there. I could lie and say that I just wanted to check on her but the truth is, I need to see her. I just want this weight lifted off me, even if it is only temporary. I need to know if being around her makes the act of living a little easier to bear. It’s so fucking selfish and fucked up, but I’m afraid that I’m already past the point of caring. My gaze lands on the nails in the wall where pictures once hung, and the pain is back in full force, throbbing throughout my entire body as I think about all the reasons why I’ll never be truly happy again.

  I don’t need to go into the living room and pull the photos that used to adorn all the walls in this house out of boxes, because the face in them is already burned into my memory. I’ll never forget. It will never get easier. This is my hell, and not even death will ease the torment – not like I deserve any better. I deserve every single ounce of pain that this world can dish onto my plate, and even when my life ends, it won’t be enough. I took something so good and pure, so full of life and love, and in my own stupidity, I destroyed it. Maybe not directly, but through my inaction, I might as well have.

  I wasn’t always like this but after years in darkness, I adapted to survive. The only way to make it out of it at all was to twist and contort myself until I was just as bad as the thing that put me in there. To strip away pieces of my soul until I had nothing left. I feel nothing. Except the pain. After all this time, I am a monster and monsters belong in hell.

  A girl like Ali deserves so much more than a man like me. I’m no good for anyone, especially her. But I don’t know that I care. Or if I’m even able to stay away. She makes me feel something other than pain and misery for the first time in a long time, and I may already be addicted to that.

  A car door slams outside, and I spin around, watching as an attractive woman walks up to Ali’s house and goes inside. Sighing, I turn around and grab my phone off the counter, knowing that I won’t go over there now. I quickly check the time and start heading for the door. I’m going to be late for church, and I’m sure Blaze will be pissed but I just couldn’t walk away. Yanking open the front door, a large yellow envelope falls at my feet, and I look down, the hair on my neck raising as I slowly look up and scan the street in front of me. Everything looks normal, and I feel like I’m going a little crazy. I’ve been vigilant, watching for whoever has been following me but I never fucking see them.

  Bear lets out a low growl behind me, sensing my unease and nudges against my leg as he peers out the door. I reach down and scoop up the envelope, slamming the door, and locking it before I grab the gun out of my waistband and set it on my dining room table. After sliding into the chair, I pull out the contents of the package and start flipping through this new batch of photos.

  “Shit,” I hiss when I get to the last ten or so. They are all of Ali today as I carried her up to her porch and helped her clean up her yard. What was this? Like, two hours ago…how the fuck did they get them so fast? The photos fall out of my hand, and I prop my elbows up on the table and rest my head against my fists, my knee bouncing under the table.

  Fuck. What the hell was I thinking? It makes me so fucking uncomfortable to see the photos of her, knowing that I led whoever the fuck this is right to her. It may make me a shitty ass person but I should have just stayed away. She wouldn’t even be on this person’s radar if I had. Even thinking that though, makes it hard to breathe. I don’t want to stay away from her. And then the guilt is back, reminding me of all the reasons that I should stay far, far away from her. It’s like a war is raging inside me, each side pulling at me until I’m afraid that I’ll tear right down the middle.

  Another photo catches my eye underneath all the others, and I pull it out, my heart seizing in my chest. It’s a photo of Ali petting Bear on the porch, and there’s a note on this one. When I read it, I slam my fist down onto the table, my blood running cold.

  She’s almost as gorgeous as our girl.

  Rage that I’ve kept buried so long bubbles out of me, and the face that I was trying so hard to forget is front and center in my mind. Pain hits me. A stab of white-hot agony smacks right in my chest, and it’s just as potent as the day I lost everything. I lay my forehead on the table, closing my eyes as I try to just fucking breathe without a wave of pain rocking me, but the longer I sit, the angrier I get. My fist starts pounding against the table as I think about that piece of shit sending me this photo. He won. He doesn’t get to taunt me with that fact for the rest of my life. Not like I need the reminder anyway. Each time I close my eyes, it’s all I can fucking see.

  I look up and focus on the photo again, rereading the words over and over, the anger building higher and higher until it feels like my body is going to come apart at the seams. Reaching under the table, I flip it and jump out of my chair, screaming out into the empty house in a desperate attempt to release this anger before it kills me. Photos flutter through the air as I march to the door and press my forehead to it as I pound my fist against the wood, screaming again in agony. The girl I love is gone, and it’s all my fucking fault. This pain, the all consuming, eat away at your soul, rip me apart because it would feel better than this, anguish is all that I deserve. If I could go back in time and fix things, I would, but life is never that kind.

  Spinning, I pick up a chair and throw it against the wall. Anything to release this anger because I feel like it’s burning me alive, eating away at my insides. It shatters and knocks a box down off a shelf. Picture frames scatter across the hardwood floors, and I’m face to face with her once again. I fall to my knees and pl
ace my hand over my chest as I struggle to draw air into my lungs. Each breath stabbing my insides, and if I close my eyes, I can picture the day I met her perfectly in my head. Her smiling face taunts me, pulling me deeper into that darkness, and any light that Ali gave me today is gone. Once again, I’m at the bottom of the pit, and there is no escape.

  * * * *

  Blaze:

  Where the fuck are you?

  Me:

  On my way.

  I shove my phone back into my pocket and drop my head, unable to look at her face any longer. I have no idea how long I’ve been sitting here but I’m sure that I missed church and Blaze is pissed. I can’t seem to give a shit right now though. Bear whines from his place next to me, and I run my hand through his fur. When Emma handed me this little ball of fur that she rescued from a shelter, I thought she was crazy, but now I’ve kind of gotten used to him. In fact, this house wouldn’t be the same without his crazy antics.

  Sighing, I get up off the floor and quickly pick up all the frames, doing my best to avoid looking at them. I can’t stand to look at her, and I can’t stand to get rid of these photos either. My eyes close, and I breathe out slowly, shoving all this shit down where it belongs again as I return the box to the shelf. I’m the VP of this club, and all these guys count on me. I can’t go losing my shit on them.

  When I feel under control again, I open my eyes and march over to the upturned table to find the photo. I fold it and shove it into the pocket of my hoodie as I head outside and scan the street. I don’t see anything out of place but I know he’s got someone watching me somewhere. At least now we know the girls aren’t in any danger. I jump on my bike and fire it up before backing out of the driveway, taking off down my street, loving the feeling of weightlessness as I ride to the clubhouse.

  Everyone’s bikes are still lined up outside when I pull up, and I wonder for a second why they all didn’t bail out after church. Then again, there’s a good chance most of them were already drunk before church. I park my bike and climb off, stomping up to the front door and flinging it open. That photo is burning a hole under my cut, and I know I gotta tell Blaze what’s going on. Everyone is gathered around the bar, laughing, and they all freeze as I walk in. I give them a quick nod.

  “Blaze is lookin’ for you,” Chance says, tilting his head to the side to indicate that he’s in his office, and I nod.

  “You all right, Storm?” Streak asks, and I nod again, starting off toward the office.

  “Fucking peachy.”

  I stop in front of the office and knock on the door before opening it and stepping inside, shutting the door behind me. Blaze looks up from the papers in front of him and arches a brow.

  “I know who’s following me,” I snap, tossing the photo down on his desk. He picks it up and reads over the message, a grim expression falling over his face. He lays the photo down and glances up at me.

  “I guess I don’t have to ask how you are.”

  “I’m great,” I bite out, the anger building inside me again.

  “Who’s the girl?” he asks, pointing to the photo on his desk.

  “My neighbor.”

  He studies me for a moment and reaches out for the glass of bourbon on his desk, taking a sip. “She important?”

  I shrug. I don’t know what the fuck she is. “No.”

  “You know, it’s okay to move on with your life.”

  I scoff and look away from him. That’ll never fucking happen.

  “She’s gone, and you torturing yourself isn’t gonna do a single fucking thing to change that. She would hate that you’re doing this to yourself.”

  I turn my gaze back to him, letting him see how dead serious I am when I say, “This conversation is over.”

  He sighs and nods, taking another sip of his bourbon as he stares down at the photo. “Why now?”

  I just shrug, and he slams his glass back down on the desk. “Come the fuck on. You don’t expect me to believe that, do you?”

  “He may be out for revenge.”

  “Revenge for what?” he asks.

  I shrug again, and he watches me for a second before his eyes widen and he stands up. “Jesus Christ. What the fuck did you do? I explicitly told you to leave him alone.”

  “I did what you and every other guy in this building would have done. Don’t act like you wouldn’t have either, Prez. I was never going to let him get away with what he did.”

  He shakes his head and leans forward, planting his hands on the desk in front of him. He may not like it but he knows I’m right. When Emma was in trouble last year, there isn’t a thing Blaze wouldn’t have done to protect her.

  “You had any other communication with him?”

  “Nope. I was kind of hoping he was dead.”

  He stands and nods, pointing to the door behind me. “Time for church. I’ll deal with you later. I’m putting you back on runs but don’t go doing anything until we figure this shit out.”

  “Not likely,” I mutter to myself, too quiet for him to hear before I spin and march out of the office, ignoring everyone else as I head into the room where we have church and sit in my chair, directly to the left of Blaze’s seat at the head of the table. Everyone else files in, casting questioning glances in my direction but I ignore them, wanting to get out of here. Chance walks in and arches a brow in question as he looks at me, and I just shake my head. Everyone in this room knows the shit I went through and would sympathize but I can’t talk about it right now. It’s still too fucking raw.

  “Sit down,” Blaze barks, marching into the room and taking his spot at the table. We all settle into our chairs, and he looks down at the papers in front of him for a moment. “All right, we got three jobs this week. All transfers but don’t go thinkin’ that it’s gonna be easy. I don’t need to remind you about the last one.”

  He looks around the table to each of us, and a few guys drop their gaze and shake their heads. I’m not sure I’ll ever get the sight of that poor woman passed out on the floor out of my mind, but she’s safe now and that’s all that matters.

  “First up, we have Jenny. She first came to us about a month ago but backed out. Her old man is a lawyer so no doubt he’s got the resources to have eyes on her at all times, but as of now, we don’t know if he does or not. He may have gotten comfortable and thinks she’ll never leave. Let’s hope for that. We got a burner phone to her, and she’s gonna send us a text on the day when she’s ready to go so ya’ll need to be ready to go at any point Tuesday.”

  Blaze looks up, and everyone nods in agreement.

  “Is it just her, Prez?” Smith, our sergeant at arms, asks, and Blaze nods.

  “Yeah, but she just found out she’s pregnant so use extreme caution.”

  “Understood,” he replies. He doesn’t have to break down how dangerous this situation is for her. If her man got tipped off somehow and went after her, it wouldn’t just be her life in danger.

  “Good. Wednesday at noon, we got Laura and her two kids. You’ll grab Laura at the house and take her to the school to get her kids. Her husband is heading out of town on a business trip the day before so you shouldn’t have any issues but as always, keep your eyes open. And tomorrow, we got Sheila and her daughter, Kaley. The husband isn’t hitting Sheila but the daughter’s doctor noticed signs of sexual assault, and she put a camera in her room. The dad’s been sneakin’ in and abusing her.”

  Several growls ring out in the room, and Kodiak slams his fist down on the table. Blaze just holds up his hand and waits.

  “I know all of you would love to dump this bastard in a hole somewhere but it isn’t the priority. Now, Sheila’s got a sister in Florida who’s coming up to meet them but we gotta get her in a hotel until then. We can’t leave that little girl in that house any longer.”

  “Why are we waitin’ till tomorrow, then?” Fuzz asks, looking downright murderous.

  “Husband is off work today but goes in for a twenty-four hour shift at the firehouse tonight so she’ll b
e safe until tomorrow.”

  Fuzz is silent for a moment but finally nods. Blaze passes out assignments but I tune it out, ready to get out of here. I need time. Time to get my shit together and time to plan my attack because there is no way in hell I am going to let this shit continue. The past may haunt me but he doesn’t get to, and I will do whatever it takes to end this.

  Chapter Eight

  Alison

  “Go find a table, and we’ll get your drink, Hon,” Carly says, motioning to the various tables littered throughout the club, and I nod, hoping I can find one nearby so I don’t have to maneuver through crowds of people on these crutches. The swelling in my knee was down today but I still couldn’t put much weight on my leg. I’m just hoping that I can walk by Monday morning because I don’t want to start my new job like this.

  Thankfully, a table opens up close to the bar, and I hobble over to it as fast as I can, throwing myself into a chair and letting out a sigh. Looking down at my knee, I can’t help but smile when I think about Storm carrying me into my house and bandaging me up. I was so tempted to text him last night and this morning but I had no idea what to say. I guess I could pretend like I needed something but I really didn’t.

  Oh, God, what am I thinking?

  I don’t date. But no matter how many times I remind myself of that, I can’t help but think of Storm anytime I have a spare moment. Maybe I need to get laid. Then, I wouldn’t have lost my shit at the first handsome man I’ve seen in awhile.

  “A cosmo for the lady,” Izzy says, setting my drink down in front of me, and I offer her an appreciative smile before taking a sip and looking around the club. The music pumps through the club, and couples grind on the dance floor as I wrinkle my nose.