Vengeance Road Page 30

  She nodded, her gaze sliding from his. She knew he wouldn’t like her answers. “He wanted me to convince you to let him close to Czar. You were friendly, all of you were, but at a distance. He had a lot of clout in the club. I was afraid if you knew what he was doing, you’d go after him and he’d get you hurt. A man couldn’t put his woman before his brothers. You know that wasn’t done. It was never done. If you did, they’d all go after you.”

  He had to fight to maintain his composure, so much so that he stepped away from her and paced across the room. He would have killed Bridges then if he’d known the man had hit his old lady.

  “How many times?” His voice was low. Velvet soft. Scary.

  “Steele.”

  She pressed herself against the wall, going very still in that way that pissed him off because she was making herself into the frozen mouse. He knew he was scaring her, but right at that moment, it didn’t matter. He had to know. Bridges might be right across the way, within reach, and Steele was racking up every sin the man had made against Steele’s family.

  “Fucking tell me, Bree. I’m not going to ask again.”

  “Every month. At the end of the month he demanded a meet with me.”

  “And you kept that from me?”

  She nodded. “I didn’t want them to hurt you.”

  “So, you took that man punching you to keep me from being hurt?”

  She shivered. “Don’t be angry. It was a long time ago. And he was afraid of bruising me, so he didn’t hit full force like he did when I was without you.”

  He was going to slice Bridges up, make it so the man suffered a thousand deaths before he actually died. He glanced up, into the doorway, and saw Savage looking at him. Clearly, he’d overheard. Their eyes met in complete understanding.

  “You do something like that again, Breezy, and you won’t sit down for months. Anyone threatens you for any reason you come to your man, do you understand me? You were my woman then and you are now. A man or woman wrongs you, slights you, does anything to upset you, you come to me. That’s for me to take care of. It’s club business if they put a hand on you. Say you understand. And you’d better mean it.”

  She looked stricken. Hurt. She remained pressed against the wall, her fingers tight against her mouth as she nodded at him.

  “I do. I’m sorry. I do understand.”

  Abruptly, Steele turned and stalked out. Savage threw her a glance, radiating the same ice-cold rage. Bridges deserved their anger, and he was about to find out what it meant to hurt the families of Torpedo Ink.

  FIFTEEN

  “How’s she holdin’ up?” Savage asked as he walked with Steele around to the back of the house. “She’s quite a woman, Steele. She stood for you. I know that pisses you off. It would me too, but she stood for you. She took Bridges’s fist for you.”

  “I ought to turn her over my knee for that. Fuck, Savage. That bastard punched her in the stomach, so I wouldn’t see it on her face. What the hell kind of doctor am I, let alone her man? I should have known it was going on.” He hadn’t been paying attention to her the way he should have. This was on him. He should have known. Damn him to hell for being such a fucking selfish bastard.

  “Difference is, she was mine, she would already by sportin’ a red bottom. On the other hand, I’ve got nothin’ but respect for that woman.” Those ice-blue eyes slid over Steele. “She gonna hold when this goes down?”

  “Depends on how it goes down. If something goes wrong, watch her for me.”

  Savage shook his head. “Somethin’ goes wrong, I’m going to be right there with you, Steele, taking those fuckers apart. That little boy is one of us. We’re not going to let this happen. Nothing going wrong on our side. They’re the ones who had better look out.”

  He leapt up and caught the edge of the eaves, somersaulted up onto the roof and climbed in a casual display of strength. Steele watched him for a moment, getting his emotions under control. The thought of Zane in the hands of anyone close to those who had brutalized him or any of his brothers and sisters was almost more than he could endure.

  He wasn’t alone in this, Savage had made that clear. His boy was one of them. Torpedo Ink. He leapt up, caught the eaves and performed the same maneuver Savage had. With his strength, it was easy enough, and balance wasn’t an issue for any of them.

  Preacher had been up since dawn, stretched out on the gabled roof. That type of roof could be problematic in a hurricane if not properly supported, but it was a beautifully constructed home and the roof added to the beauty of it. He walked with ease in spite of the sharp pitch, crossing to the front where he could lower his body down beside Savage.

  Ink was there as well. He sat tailor fashion, paying no attention to them. He looked up at the sky. Somewhere in the distance a hawk let out an eerie cry. Ink didn’t move. He kept his eyes on the sky and his hands over his knees.

  “Lana’s in the water,” Preacher reported.

  The tension went up significantly. If there were any men at the estate next door, they wouldn’t be able to resist a beautiful woman in a thong bikini and very little string for a top. The material barely covered Lana’s full breasts. Her body was sculpted with curves and sleek lines. She looked like a model for bathing suits. Her hair was long, a blazing red that went with her pale skin. Even so, there was always the possibility that if any of the Swords were at that estate, they would recognize her in spite of her disguise.

  Lana took the boat out onto the lake easily, evidently confident in her driving. She went slow as she passed the houses but picked up speed once she was on the lake. She hadn’t looked at the estate as she glided past, merely glanced at the beauty of the oasis created by the builders, but Steele knew that one glance was enough for her to mark every point of entry from the lake side.

  She went on past, sweeping out in a big arc, going across the water at a much higher rate of speed. The weather was perfect. Humid, and hot already. It was going to be a good day, with the sun blinding on the water. Anyone would want to be out, which only added to the normalcy of Lana taking the boat out on her vacation.

  Steele used binoculars to study every inch of the estate he could see. There were no child’s toys. No animals. The yard was pristine, clearly kept up by a landscaping crew. No one came out of either the main house or the smaller cottage. He studied the trucks. Information was crucial when planning any assassination or rescue. The more information, the smoother and safer the operation.

  A hawk circled above them and then drifted on the wind to the estate next door. He circled the structures and then settled in a tree overlooking the front yard. A flock of sparrows approached, the group larger than normal with more birds joining as they got closer to the vacation rental. In the sky, the dissimulation looked like a dark, twisting shadow, coming fast, suddenly veering away and rolling into a strange-looking apparition.

  The flock of birds changed direction in midair, looking as if they came to a standstill almost directly above Ink. He didn’t move, as still as a statue, his face a mask of concentration. The birds wheeled and dipped, moving back toward the neighboring estate.

  “Any of those vehicles look familiar?” Steele asked.

  Transporter shook his head. “None. They seem fairly new, all but the one in front of the guest cabin. That’s several years old, but even from here, you can see it’s in good condition.” He indicated the smaller pickup. “My guess? It’s a road rocket. Someone put some money into that baby. Swords put their money into their bikes.”

  Steele didn’t change expression, although his heart dropped. He wanted his son to be close. If he wasn’t here, they had three other places they knew to look. This had been their best shot at finding him fast. With the information Steele had gotten from Bruiser and Scalp, as well as what was collected on their phones, it looked as if this estate was a sure thing. He wanted it to be. Every minute in the hands of Bridges meant Zan
e’s life was more at risk.

  Transporter had noted the Swords liked adding speed to their rides. He used to shake his head when he saw them pay so much money and get practically nothing back. He never offered to help them though. None of the Torpedo Ink crew had given away any of their abilities to the Swords. If someone had fixed up the little pickup, it most likely hadn’t been a Swords member—or at least one from the New Orleans chapter.

  Steele had learned patience, and this was still nerve-wracking, so he didn’t want to think too much about Breezy and how she would be taking this. “I shouldn’t have gotten so angry with her,” he told Savage. “About Bridges. That was three years ago, and she’s going through some heavy shit right now. She did something amazing for me and I wasn’t very nice about it.”

  He’d probably hurt her. How did Czar maneuver through his relationship with Blythe? He wanted Breezy safe and reliant on him. She must want the same thing for him. “Fuck.” His hissed the word through clenched teeth. “I just fucked up again. I should have been more understanding.”

  Savage shook his head. “The bigger picture is you make sure she’s safe at all times. From anyone. From everyone. She has to know that. You don’t make a point now, she might hide things from you again. Better to let her know you won’t put up with that kind of shit.”

  It didn’t surprise Steele that Savage was hard-core about what he expected of his woman.

  “A man hits my woman, that’s a dead man. If she kept it from me and I found out after the fact, ten hours, ten days or weeks or years, she would be a very unhappy woman for a long time. I would make my point, Steele, the first time, so I never had to make it again.”

  “I get that. But I could have chosen a different way to make my point. Breezy isn’t the type of woman to do things just to piss me off. She thought she was doing right.”

  Savage shrugged his broad shoulders. “Doesn’t matter, her motivation. She put herself in danger and didn’t tell you. That’s not ever going to be okay, and you know it. Hell, Steele, I want to go down there and shake some sense into your woman. She’s ours. Torpedo Ink’s. The minute she became your old lady, he had no right to touch her. Pisses me off.”

  Savage turned away but continued talking. “We have a code we all live by. It’s what keeps us all alive and safe. We bring a woman in, she lives by that same code. She doesn’t, she endangers all of us as well as herself. You have to shut that shit down fast.”

  Savage didn’t look pissed off. He looked scary as hell. Overhearing the conversation, Preacher took his eyes from the binoculars and turned to look at them. Transporter did the same. Even Ink blinked and glanced their way.

  “What the hell did Breezy do? Who touched her?” Transporter demanded. “And how?”

  Maestro had come up on the roof behind them, handing water to Preacher. He raised an eyebrow at Steele. “Someone hurt our girl?”

  Steele nodded. “Back when we rode with the Swords. Breezy told me Bridges beat her every month because she wasn’t doing what he wanted, getting him in good with us. She didn’t tell me because she was afraid for me. Hit her in the stomach so I wouldn’t see the marks on her. She’d say it was cramps.” But he would have known better if he’d taken the time with her that he should have. That was on him.

  There was a shocked silence. He didn’t know if they were all shocked because Breezy had hidden it from him or because Bridges was that reckless and stupid—or because he hadn’t known. Steele would have killed her father had he known. All of them knew that with certainty.

  His jaw hardened. A muscle ticked there. He was getting fired up all over again, feeling the gathering rage pouring off the others that someone dared lay a hand on one of their women.

  “She hid it from you?” Maestro echoed, as if he couldn’t quite believe it.

  Steele nodded. “Yeah. Pissed me off but made me all the prouder of her.”

  “The woman never lacked for courage,” Transporter said. “Everyone knew that. Never could understand what was wrong with the men in that club. I guess when you traffic women you lose sight of what’s important because you rot from the inside out.”

  “She know never to do that shit again?” Ink asked, his gaze back to the sky, following the path of the birds until the hawk chose a tree at the back of the house to settle in.

  “She does,” Steele assured.

  “Hope you reinforced that with a good lesson in what a man does when his woman fucks up,” Maestro said, anger shimmering in his voice.

  “He’s pussy whipped,” Savage stated.

  “Can’t deny it,” Steele admitted, in no way offended. His woman probably needed him right now to go down to her and wrap his arms around her. He was torn by that. It would only take a moment or two to reassure her and maybe apologize. Maybe he’d scared her. But wasn’t that the point? Hell. He was going to have to ask Blythe what he should have done.

  Preacher grinned at him and settled back onto the roof. “I like your woman, Steele. She’s got courage.” He took a slow drink of water and put the binoculars back to his eyes. “Lana’s making her circle, coming back around toward the target. She’ll slow the boat some distance away, drop anchor and sunbathe. Mechanic will listen in for us, see if he can catch anyone talking.”

  “Who’s on Breezy?” Steele asked Maestro immediately.

  “Keys is with her. She’s in the kitchen fixing food. She fixes any more food and we’re going to have to roll ourselves to the bikes to get home.”

  “You could actually skip a meal,” Transporter said. “Leave more for the rest of us.”

  “I’m eating for Ice and Storm,” Maestro pointed out. “Someone has to do it when they aren’t around.” He toed Steele. “Your woman is nearly as good a cook as Alena, and that’s saying something.”

  Steele nodded. “She is. She likes cooking. I was thinking I’d get a chef for us, but she seems to like to have the kitchen to herself, and it’s one less outsider. Don’t want to shock the poor bastard by eating her out on the counter in front of him.”

  “Smart,” Transporter said. “Knowing you, a stranger looked too long at your woman, you’d slit his throat.”

  Steele sighed. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ve evolved very far. I’d hate to kill the chef. It might become a habit. After losing a few of them, Harrington and Deveau would show up asking questions. They still coming to the bar, Preacher? Asking about those bikers and hit men disappearing?”

  “Not for a couple of weeks, but they’re keeping an eye on the place,” Preacher answered, but most of his attention was directed at the backyard pool and cabana area as well as the boat that had dropped anchor a good distance away.

  “Czar was going to talk with Deveau,” Steele told the others. “He wanted to make certain Jackson was warned the Swords were making another play.”

  “They aren’t going to stop coming at him,” Maestro said. “Or us. We just have to hit them hard every time and keep them weak.”

  “That’s a good argument to patch over this other club,” Steele said, “then we’ve got twice the firepower against the Swords and any other enemy. They still don’t know who we are or where we are, but if Breezy found us through process of elimination, the Swords could. By now, Code has all kinds of dope on the chapter. Gavriil did an investigation before he brought us the idea. I’d like to know we’ve got more brothers watching out for those scumbags.”

  “The Swords are used to their women doing their dirty work,” Transporter pointed out, contempt dripping from his voice. “They think it makes them stronger to have their women prostitute for them and carry their drugs, but in the end, it weakens them. What the fuck do they do all day? Sit around the clubhouse drinking, doing drugs and getting a beer belly.”

  “You talking about me?” Maestro demanded, patting his flat washboard stomach.

  “You’re eating twice as much as the rest of us,” Transporter
shot back.

  “I’m taller than all of you. I’ve got more to fill up just from sheer size alone,” Maestro pointed out.

  Steele shook his head. They were all crazy, but it was a good crazy.

  “I’m with you, Steele,” Savage said suddenly. “I like the idea of bringing others on board. Gavriil was talking to Czar the other day, and he pointed out that there were four schools. We had it the worst, but the others had it bad as well and they were trained in the art of assassination, using every means possible. They had to go through similar trials. There are quite a few of our brethren out there. Men who survived the training and the missions and, later, Sorbacov’s purging when he tried to kill every single one of us and sweep us under the rug. The more men we have that we can count on, the stronger we’re going to be.”

  Steele nodded. “I agree. I think we need to bring them in slow though. The Diamondbacks are definitely going to protest if they see our numbers growing, especially if it’s done too fast.”

  “Lana’s making her show,” Preacher announced. “She’s laid out her towel and pulled off her suit and she’s pinning up her hair, making certain if anyone in that house is looking, they’re seeing something worth getting a closer look.” His rifle was inches from his hand. He was fast, and more importantly, he didn’t miss. He was all business with a rifle.

  Immediately the attention went to the lake, and then to the backyard of the Abernathy estate. Lana stood in the boat, body swaying with waves, making a show of smearing suntan lotion over her skin. She paid a lot of attention to her breasts, rubbing in the lotion and then placing one foot up on the cab so she could spread it over her leg. She concentrated on making certain every inch of her front was covered before she lay down on the towel and put her sunglasses on to cover her eyes.

  “Nice, Lana,” Maestro said. “You’re going to get skin cancer.”