The Butcher of the Bay 2 Page 10

  Besides, the fighters all lining up by the cage? Fucking pathetic, not even worth the time it would take me to strap my hands.

  There are four members of the Twelve here tonight.

  The Vulture is one of them.

  Fuck, deep breaths. Raging out and gutting the fuck here isn't the best idea. There's got to be at least a hundred people packed into this bar and only about ten of them don't belong to one of the members. Of those ten maybe half of them would consider backing me, only so I owed them for that show of loyalty later.

  “We should just stick to our usual bar, this place is a fucking bloodbath waiting to happen,” Harbin says as he claps me on the shoulder.

  I shrug and nod at the bartender for a drink. “More people here tonight. I want this shit over with, best way to get information is to be here.”

  Roxas roars with laughter as he moves towards us, a jug of beer in his hand that he’s drinking without a glass. I don’t usually see him with beer, something must be up. That or he’s already fucking trashed.

  “We could gut the Vulture, right here and now. Get that list of yours started with a fucking bang,” he says, so loud that we get looks from some of the Viper’s men around us.

  Like I give a fuck.

  “Tonight isn’t the right time. I want the perverted fuck to sweat it out for a while first. I want him fucking shaking at the mention of my name.” It’s true but I also need to make sure the kid doesn’t get caught up in my vengeance and killing the Vulture in such a public way will definitely have her choosing sides.

  I have more than just Odie to protect now.

  I take the glass of whiskey and turn away from the bar, watching out as the fights start up. As expected, they’re all fucking pathetic. Thugs and poser gangbangers roughing each other up for some quick cash. I need higher stakes than that to catch my interest.

  I need a little death to make it worth it.

  Once I’ve seen enough of that bullshit I look out over the crowd to get a gauge of who’s here. A whole lot of the Viper’s men but that’s normal. The Ox and the Lynx are here which isn’t all that out of the ordinary. One of the Lynx’s sons likes to think of himself as a big man, a fighter, when really he’s nothing but a dirty rat. The fact he’d sell his own mother out for drugs and girls is fucking disgusting.

  Handy information to keep up my sleeve though.

  With my plans to take out two of the members of the Twelve, knowing who the rats are can really fucking help me out later. How I’m not sure yet but I’ll figure it out.

  Harbin claps me on the shoulder again as he moves away to talk to other bikers, all of them from out of town and a good source of information. Roxas is chugging his way through the beer, not a great amount of help but if shit goes south he’ll be up to fight.

  Even completely blackout wasted he’s fucking deadly.

  I stay near the bar, visible and ready to talk to anyone that might come forward. There’s eyes on me for the whole night, all of them assessing and just a little wary. No one knows what to do with this new version of me, the one that has a line and a woman waiting at home for me. They’re all trying to figure out if I’ve gone soft.

  By the end of my list they’ll know two things.

  I’m even more deadly than before and fucking no one touches my woman and survives.

  Eventually the kid shows up and slips into the seat next to me, careful not to ever look my way completely. There’s enough eyes in the room that she has to be cautious, a little wary of being seen hanging out with me, and I wonder what the fuck she’s even doing here.

  “I leave for school in two days. I got my emancipation.” She says as the bartender puts a shot of whiskey in front of her. I order her a burger and when she gives me a look I give one right back to her.

  “Just fucking eat it. That’s great, kid. What do you need here? Are you on a job or just here to say goodbye?”

  She fidgeting like a fucking crackhead but I know she’s stone cold sober right now. This is nerves, the type that come from really fucking caring about the person you’re talking to and the reaction your words are going to get. “I need you to cut off all communication with me.”

  “I can do that, kid. What’s your plan?” I keep my voice even and calm, no signs of disappointment or anger. She’s getting the fuck out of the Bay, how can I hold a grudge over that shit? She doesn’t need anything else on her plate.

  She sighs. “My plan is to finish high school and get the fuck out of this life. My plan is to find… normal and boring. Stop killing people to survive. Stop being the scariest person in the room.”

  Fuck.

  I didn’t know she struggled with this shit.

  From the cold, calm, and deadly that’s always on her face, I’ve always thought she enjoyed the killing the same way I do. Apparently not.

  That just makes me respect her more.

  She hates the kill and yet she threw down for my girl like that? She’s too fucking good. I’ve said it before and I’ll keep fucking saying it; she’s too fucking good for the Bay and for me and for anyone else.

  “You could induct me. I could keep people the fuck away from you, might help you get out of here and get D’Ardo away from you.”

  She blinks up at me, her blank face not showing any of the shock she’s for fucking sure feeling. “You’ve spent your whole life refusing to sign up under anyone. There’s no way I’m letting you do that shit. Besides, I have a plan to get out. I’m good.”

  I shrug. I had to put in on the table for her, it’s the least I fucking owe her. “That sounds good, kid. Are you coming back for summer holidays? You can stay with me and Odie, we’ll keep you out of shit. Odie would love that.”

  She looks twitchy and hesitant. “I’ll call you once the year is over… see what my plan is then. Thanks for… thanks for being there for me. Thanks for the burger and for giving a shit.”

  She sounds awkward as shit and, fuck, I feel the same. “No problem, kid. You’re family to me and my girl now. You need me, I’ll be there. No matter what. Promise me you’ll call.”

  She nods and ducks her head a little, chowing down on the food and drinking her shot without another word. I watch her back and survey the crowd some more to make sure no one is about to give us both any shit.

  When she’s done she gets up and gives me a quick nod of her head, slinking back out of the room like the little lost girl she isn’t, head held high and grown men cowering away from her.

  Fuck, I hope that big school of hers gets her out of this life. I hope she’s fed three square meals a day and meets some boring guy who’ll treat her right.

  I hope she’s fucking happy.

  It’s towards the end of the night when finally someone approaches me, and it’s Tank of all people. The enforcer for the Silver City Serpents back in California, he’s been in more fights with Harbin and Roxas than I can count but I’ve never had anything personally to fight it out with him over.

  "You're looking for work aren't you?"

  I shrug. "Not exactly. I'm looking for information and if you've got it, I'll pay in green or blood."

  Tank nods and scratches at his beard. “I know what you’re after. I have someone I need moved. Picked up in Monteray and taken back home to Louisiana. How much would that cost me?"

  I down the rest of my whiskey. "I need information on the Alcatron and Mecedo cartels. That's all I need right now."

  Tank huffs out a breath. “Yeah, I came into some information on them. They’re opening up some new warehouses here in the Bay, obviously they don’t know about your fucking hunt for them. I gotta warn you, man, the Mecedo cartel aren't good people. You don't want to get mixed up with them, whatever money you're after ain't worth it."

  I pull my jacket a little tighter as I adjust myself on the seat, just so my hands have something to do. I’m so fucking sick of people needing to vet my reasons for needing shit. If I want it, I'm fucking getting it. I like Tank well enough but I'll kill him in a heartbeat f
or the information I need. In a fucking heartbeat.

  "This is personal and I'm not going round there for a drink. I'll move your guy, no question, just tell me what you know. If it's worth it, I'll do your job."

  It's not just worth it.

  It's everything I need to know.

  "Make sure they're all dead, would ya? I don't need this shit on my doorstep. I've got enough turf wars and drug debts to fucking last a lifetime right now. I need my kid out of harm’s fucking way even if she thinks I'm an asshole, and I need her boyfriend dead. Think you can handle that?"

  I shrug. "I can move her and if the boyfriend isn't willing to let her go I'll put a bullet between his eyes. I'm on a time crunch here, can the guys up state handle her?"

  He nods and rubs at his chin again. "If anyone could handle her, it'll be her brothers. Take my word of advice, don't have kids. Too much fucking trouble."

  He can take that advice and shove it up his ass. My kids are going to be fucking perfect, how can they not be with the angel of a mother they'll have.

  Tank gives me the information for the warehouse, knowing well enough that I fucking always deliver and my need for the information is a high priority. My opinion of him goes up a fraction, something else I’m damn sure he’s hoping for too.

  I’m a handy person to have your back in a fight and I never forget a debt owed. While I might not owe him, I’d pick him over a helluva lot of people now he’s helped me hunt the cartel for my girl.

  I stay at the Dive until all of the fights are over and the crowd has thinned out until only the regulars are there, drinking their way to an early grave. Harbin has to half-carry Roxas out, a grimace on his face at the prospect of dragging him back to their clubhouse to sleep it off.

  I get on the road and light a cigarette, holding the smoke in my chest and letting it burn me from the inside out. The warehouse is out in the sticks, out past the edge of the city limits where the forest thins out to endless miles of sandy nothingness. I enjoy the fuck out of the drive. The road is quiet enough at this time of the morning that I can let my Mustang eat up the highway like it’s nothing. It also gives me the chance to just think my plans through, to plan out exactly how I need Mecedo and his men to die.

  I remember everything my girl told me about her time with them.

  No one is ever going to treat her like that again, fucking never, and I’ll make them fucking regret ever buying a bride from a junkie dealer from Europe.

  I need to plan a trip out to deal with him too.

  One death at a time, I have to focus on this one. I need him to die in a very specific way, I need him staring into my eyes and seeing his death there. I need him fucking begging for mercy, the type of mercy I’ll never give him.

  The type of mercy he never gave my baby girl.

  I finally make it to the location, right on the very last patch of forest, and find the warehouse nestled amongst the trees. I park a fair distance away and take the trail up with a cigarette in between my lips.

  Tank had said the operation was new and the manpower wasn’t there yet so I’m not too worried. Besides, they aren’t expecting me to show up here armed to the fucking teeth with blades and fire power. None of them know that Odie is mine and the bride Mecedo threw away is now under my protection.

  The security here isn’t great but I spot some cameras. I get close enough that they could get a good look at me but I have a guy for that shit now.

  I send a text message to the Coyote about the cameras and the security here, hoping he can tap into them and get me eyes in there. Knowing where everything is will make this a whole lot easier, something I can do by myself and not have to call in any more favors for or splash any more cash out.

  The perimeter is clear, no guys walking around out here during the night. That seems pretty lax, not something most cartels would do, but with the remote location and the fact they’ve just moved in from out of state, I’d bet they’re not expecting anyone to know they’re here.

  I check my phone but there’s nothing there waiting for me but a blank screen. I light up again, ready to walk the perimeter one last time when I spot the hog.

  It’s a fucking nice one, easy to spot even for me and I’m never felt the need for one before. Black on black, everything matte and custom, I know there’s been a pretty penny spent on it. That’s not what has me hesitating.

  The Devil’s mark is on the tank.

  What are the fucking chances that he’d be here? No one in the Bay would be dumb enough to call him, the survival instinct is born and bred and we all know not to fuck with the likes of him. The cartel wouldn’t invite that sort of danger into their operations, I know it.

  Could he be here?

  I slip back into the darkness at the side of the warehouse to watch out for him and, sure enough, after ten minutes he walks out of the forest and gets onto his bike.

  Well, fuck me dead.

  It’s too far away for me to get a decent look but I see that he’s a tall guy, broad and armed to the fucking teeth. Biker boots and a leather jacket but no patches. He doesn’t belong to any club, just himself and his own brand of brutality.

  I wait until he’s pulled off onto the road, no helmet but he handles his machine with ease, and then I start off into the forest to see what the fuck he was doing. There’s no blood or trail to follow, his footprints barely visible in the dense underbrush, and soon I have no choice but to head back to the car.

  Still there’s no cartel men around, this entire fucking scouting mission like child’s play.

  My phone buzzes as I get back and I find a message from the Coyote finally.

  I’m in. Their system was built by a fucking child, too easy. I’ve wiped the footage with you in it and I’m building a fully mapped out image of the place for you. You’ll have it the second you pay me.

  I scoff but D’Ardo has made him fucking twitchy about green and I’ll pay whatever he’s asking.

  I head back to my car and then get back onto the highway, done for the night and going home to my girl but there’s an unease in my gut now that wasn’t there before.

  It’s telling me it’s not the last I’ve seen of the Devil. Not for a long shot.

  Chapter Twelve

  Odie

  I wake with mon Monstre’s mouth on mine, teasing kisses from me before I’m fully conscious. I moan into his lips, my tongue stroking against his and my body curling into the warmth and safety of his instinctively.

  “I have to go out of town for work today, baby girl. Lemme taste you before I go. I need your sweet juices on my tongue before I go.”

  I mumble at him in my sleep but my body turns instinctively to him. No matter what, I always turn to him like a sunflower following the path of the sun's rays. He pulls the blankets away from my body, baring my nakedness to the warm air of the apartment. We sleep with the air conditioning on but he always turns it up in the early morning so I'm not uncomfortable.

  I stretch out like a cat, the long languid lines of my body curving up for his viewing pleasure and he groans deep in his throat, parting my legs to slide in-between them and then he licks a long stripe up my slit as though he's saying good morning to my pussy.

  Then he gets to work, licking and sucking until my legs shake and my pussy is gushing with all of the sweet juices he could ever ask for. One hand comes to squeeze at my breast, tweaking my nipple in this most exquisite way until the pain and pleasure is blending, sending me over the edge again as I grind down onto his face.

  He makes me come three times before he finally pushes up onto his arms and crawls up my body. My eyes flutter open to find him staring down at me, taking in every inch of my flushed appearance. I smile at him, a little slow and soft in the morning light, and he swoops down to kiss it right off of me.

  He tastes like me, and a little bit of minty toothpaste, and I groan at the taste.

  I want to taste him too.

  When I reach for him he catches my hands in one of his, moving off of me as he
brings them up to his lips to press a kiss on my palms. "I have to go, baby girl. I'm already late."

  I hear the alarm but Illi doesn't look worried. He must be expecting company. "I'll come out, I'll just wash up first. Are you sure I can't taste you before you go? I want you, mon Monstre."

  He groans and adjusts his pants. "Fuck. When I get home I'll feed you my cock, baby girl. I'll come all over that pretty face of yours."

  My pussy clenches, greedy for more of him because I'll never have my fill.

  After my shower, I pull one of his sweaters on and step out into the apartment, the deep rumble of Illi’s voice clear through the open front door. I move to the kitchen and start the coffee machine, humming an old French lullaby under my breath as I get out everything I need to make crepes for breakfast. The voices get a little louder as Illi and another man walk up the stairs and then the door opens as they both walk in.

  Roxas grins at me and says, “Good morning, beauty. How the hell did this asshole manage to snare a pretty thing like you?”

  This is the first time we’ve actually spoken a word to one another but I find myself relaxing just a little. His words are flirty but the tone isn’t and he keeps looking at Illi like he’s trying to start a fight.

  The glare on mon Monstre’s face says he’s close to starting one.

  “I’m making crepes. Do you have time for breakfast, mon Monstre?”

  He checks the clock in the kitchen and grimaces. “Sorry, baby girl, you’ll have to give mine to this asshole. He’s here to keep you safe, he’ll be down in the garage mostly. I should be back by lunchtime tomorrow. Don’t worry about a thing, just paint and watch TV and sleep, baby.”

  I smile at him and he saunters over to me, kissing me deep and hot the same way he’d kissed and licked my pussy only an hour ago. I turn to liquid under his hands and lips.

  “Fuck me, can you guys not do that around me? Love makes me nauseous. Seriously fucking nauseous.”