Retaliate Page 6

  “Why me, can’t a prospect do this shit?” I ask. I hate law enforcement, probably more than anyone and here Zeek is fucking making me protect one. He’ll regret this. I’ll make this bitch dirty before the end of all this. Watch.

  He points at me with a serious face, wrinkles forming around his eyes.

  “Because you’re the only man I trust enough to get the job done. Alessandra means something to Jillian, so you better stop seeing her as a cop, and start as a fucking kitten you’re protecting from the big dogs. Got it?”

  “Got it,” I bite out. Little does he know, he’s feeding her right to a fucking alpha dog - me.

  “Look, you’re my brother following me into this hell and you either have my back or you don’t. But I need to know right now,” he cuts the shit, and it hits me hard in my chest with reality.

  “No, I have your back, it’s just going to take me some time to wrap my head around why you would jeopardize everything we have, for her.” I point in the other room, my voice low. We were raised not to trust them, and it’s going to take me more time to reprogram my DNA.

  He shakes his head, rubbing his cheeks.

  “One day, you’ll get it. Until then, you just gotta trust me.”

  I grab his hand and fist it firmly in a brotherly manner.

  “I trust you. Always have,” I say seriously. I’ve been by his side since I was a kid, and he’s never let me down once. He’s my cousin, but even more a brother. We have the same blood that runs deep for this club. There is no straying from that line of loyalty. My dad was killed by a rival gang when I was in my teens, and my mother was a club whore who ran out on us when I was an infant. I was raised by the club and would do anything for it.

  “Then have my back, and protect Alessandra.”

  “I will. I do.”

  As attractive as Alessandra is, I want to put a bullet in that tight little ass. It’s in my heart to hate her, to want to defy and wreck her. It’s also in my nature to want to fuck the ever-loving shit out of her.

  The question is how can I do both and keep my president happy?

  CHAPTER THREE

  Alessandra

  SITTING OUTSIDE OF THE forensics laboratory I bite at my nails anxiously, the thought of what I’m about to do makes butterflies swarm in my stomach like a hurricane about to take over a major city. There will be no going back, the damage will be done and my badge will be scuffed with my defiance of the law.

  Just as I think about turning around Billy walks outside with a black bag swung over his shoulder. His hair is more of an orange than red color, and his face is square and sprinkled with freckles. His cliché lab coat matches his geeky glasses perfectly. I watch him as he gets inside of his blue Mini Cooper and drives off.

  I follow, as what I have to say to him I can’t have cameras recording. At a stoplight I flash my lights at him and he glances in his rearview mirror at me. He drives forward pulling over on the side of the road. Not much traffic comes through this side of town, as it’s the back way to avoid the highway. He must be on his way home; the other way would suggest he’s going for groceries or dinner.

  I pull in front of him and park. Getting out I meet him between the cars and give a big friendly smile. The ground is hot beneath my boots, and the heat is so thick you can barely take a breath. There’s cactus and bare desert around us, the city just beyond a giant broken chain-link fence not far from here.

  “Hey!” I say with too much enthusiasm. Shit, tone it down. Last time we met, it didn’t go too well. I’m surprised he even stopped, to be honest.

  He gives me a nervous grin, the flare in his eyes telling me he hasn’t forgotten either.

  “Hey Alessandra, is there something you need? Did I forget something?” He looks over his shoulder back in the general direction of the lab. His tense posture telling me he’s scared of me. The bulge in his slacks conveying he finds me attractive too.

  I giggle flirtatiously and reach for the lapel of his blue polo.

  “No silly, I just had a question.” I wrinkle my nose in that cute little bimbo way I do. Using my looks to my advantage.

  He looks down, his cheeks turning a shade of red. His Velcro tennis shoes kicking at the loose dirt.

  “Oh yeah?” he mumbles through a too big of a grin.

  “Hey, what evidence did you pull from those casings from the Sin City Outlaw’s clubhouse?” I ask, trying to keep the lust in my voice so my personal emotion doesn’t cloud that. Hopefully he buys it, I don’t want to have to do what I did last time I needed information from him.

  His head pops ups, his grin gone. My rose colored glasses turning a shade darker.

  “You know I can’t tell you that,” he bites his lip looking out into the distance.

  “Oh come on, I’m just curious.” I twirl my hair, popping my hip out. Trying one last time to pull the information I need from him before having to do it the hard way. The risky way.

  His eyes rake me up and down the words I want to hear right on the tip of his tongue.

  “I can’t… I’m sorry.”

  “Fuck!” I roll my eyes, my fingers straining like I want to strangle the fuck out of his geeky ass. My flirt innocent act drops like a sack of ice, and anger replacing it. His face drops as I suddenly whip out my Taser and strike him right behind the shoulder. The device vibrates my palm as it shoots an electric current through his small frame. His body spazzes and he falls forward like a dead weight. I look around making sure nobody saw, but it’s deserted. I’m so going to hell.

  “Why did you have to take the hard way,” I mumble, unlocking my trunk angrily. Tucking my arms under his armpits, I shuffle him up and toss the top of his torso into the trunk.

  “Jesus you’re heavier than last time,” I heave, tugging his bottom half into the small space. I begin to sweat, my heart beating harder at the thought of me getting caught shoving a body in my car.

  Closing the trunk, it hits his head making him come too.

  “Alessandra!” He bangs around, his voice in complete panic.

  “Are you going to tell me?” I ask, leaning against my car. My arms crossed casually as I watch the dirt dance in the wind. My back is covered in sweat and tickles as it drips down my skin. Damn it’s hot out here.

  “Damn it, I can’t believe you’re doing this again,” he mumbles to himself, and I silently giggle. Being a good cop isn’t just about following the law and the rules you swore by. It’s about knowing when not to follow and abide by them. I don’t bleed blue, I’m a darker breed than the badge on my uniform will ever understand. If I can get a lead on those shell casings, I’ll have something to put into the pockets of Sin City Outlaws and gain their trust. I’ve gone too many years turning my head from my father’s death. Not anymore.

  My personal phone rings, grabbing my attention from the screaming man in my trunk.

  It’s Jillian.

  “Hey, is everything okay?” I ask.

  “Yeah, I just got to the club. I’m so out of my league here. I don’t know what Zeek brought me to, but I’m not thrilled with this. I mean, I want to protect my kids, but the sheriff in me wants to run at these assholes,” she huffs into the phone in one long breath. “The girls won’t even look in my direction so he must have said something to them,” she continues, with a hint of pride in her voice.

  “Has he duct taped you to a chair yet, keeping you hostage from doing a sweep through for drugs and illegal guns,” I laugh because Jillian would so do that.

  She giggles. “Not yet, but he did threaten to tie me to the bed.”

  “Let me out of here, goddamn it!” Hollers from my car with a series of pounds against the trunk. I hold my hand over the receiver and step away.

  “What was that?” Jillian asks with a concerned tone.

  “I um, I have someone in custody,” I lie. Jillian is my best friend, but she’d never understand the way I do things. Jillian is strictly rulebook, and I make my own rules. I fear it will come between us.

  “Oh,
I’ll let you go. Just wanted to let you know we are here and safe.”

  “Good to hear. Thanks by the way for having me tailed!” I spit angrily.

  “Anything for my friend,” she replies sarcastically. Scoffing, I hang the phone up and growl under my breath at Billy and his loud mouth. Hopefully Jillian bought that he was a suspect in custody.

  Popping the trunk, he throws himself over the side dramatically huffing for air.

  “It’s not that bad, you’re being a baby,” I silently laugh, crossing my arms.

  “It is when you’re claustrophobic!” he blubbers. He’s all sweaty, with his face beet red and nose running.

  “You ready to tell me what I want?” I tap my foot in a bored manner.

  He raises his head, his forehead wrinkled.

  “It’s got to take one crazy motherfucker to love you, you know that?” He tilts his head to the side. I can’t help the smirk that breaks through my annoyed look. I haven’t found my prince in shining tattoos yet, but I will one day. He will accept the good and the bad parts of me, and love me like a madman. One I should probably take into custody, but would much rather ravage me in the back of my cruiser.

  “The case was taken from me, Alessandra,” Billy’s voice breaks me from my mental fairy tale.

  “The main forensic, JT, took it and closed the file. Told me it was out of my pay grade. I overheard him telling someone else that nothing but a turf war would come of the findings. So I’m guessing that is why they closed it.” He shrugs, and I drop my head defeated. I kidnapped a man and put him in my trunk for nothing.

  “But, I did manage to get a name off a partial print on one of the casings before the case was taken from me, but I wasn’t able to run it fully,” Billy continues as he climbs out of the trunk.

  This piques my curiosity.

  He points at me with a sharp finger, his sweaty brows sliced inward. “If I tell you, no more fucking trunk. GOT IT?” he demands. Rolling my eyes, I put my hands on my hips. I can find other ways to get what I need out of him in the future so why not agree.

  “Fine,” I mumble.

  “Apollo Bates,” he heaves, wiping his forehead with his lab coat.

  “Apollo Bates?” I whisper, not familiar with the name. Then again most of the gang members around here don’t go by their legal name. They have nicknames. I’ll have to run it in our database and see if it notes what gang he’s with. Either way, it’s something to bring to the Sin City Outlaws.

  “Are we done?” he snaps.

  Coming back to the conversation, I nod. “Yeah, thanks.” He shakes his head walking past me. Reaching out I grab his arm to stop him.

  “No really, this is doing something personal for me. I really appreciate it.” My soft tone wipes his pissed off look away.

  “I hope you get what you’re looking for, Alessandra.”

  Letting him go I watch him get in his car and drive away. He really would be a great guy to hook up with… if I was into soft geeks. I’m not though. I like the bad boys, the kind that I can frisk for breaking the law, and have my way with right before I put them in jail. The kind that would have my dad turning over in his grave if he ever saw them approach his daughter.

  Alessandra

  Stepping up to the Outlaws’ club, I take a deep breath. The pistol in the back of my jeans reminding me that no motherfucker is going to be putting me in my place today. I was an idiot not to bring it with me before. Jillian is here now though, and if things go south, she’ll have my back.

  A man that looks like prospect due to his patch-less cut, holds his hand out, stopping me from entering the club and I shoot him an annoyed look. His head is completely covered with a red bandana, his square jaw sexy with its dark stubble, the side of it scarred. He has quotes of famous killers from all over the country on his arms and up his neck. Ted Bundy’s words about Murderers standing out to me more than the others. Swallowing the dry lump in my throat, I clear my voice.

  “Can you tell whomever it concerns that Alessandra is here?”

  The man scoffs, his ice blue eyes cutting me where I stand. My hand twitches to grab my gun out of pure fear, but I resist.

  “We’re on lockdown, nobody enters without the say-so of a patch holder,” he informs me dryly. My eyes fall on his name at this point, curious who he is. I’ve never seen him before. The Outlaws must be recruiting new members.

  Bomber Jack.

  I wonder what he did to earn that nickname. Actually, I don’t want to know.

  “Well, Bomber Jack, tell your president I have something he wants regarding this morning’s shooting,” I tell him with a click of my tongue. The man turns his head to the side, unsure of what to do. He was clearly ordered to tell everyone to fuck off, but what if he turns me away and the president wants the info I have?

  “Don’t fucking move,” he sneers, the tone of his voice gluing my black boots to the asphalt. The man slips inside, and seconds go by. A chill races up my spine as I sit in front of the most dangerous club in the city, maybe the world. My heart is beating so hard it’s making me anxious. I might actually vomit.

  The man steps back outside and silently juts his head toward the door. Indicating I can enter the den of outlaws.

  Stepping inside, the smoke is thick and heavy. “Porn Star Dancing” by My Darkest Days plays loudly. The lighting is dim, only a bright red light above the bar flashing on two girls making out with each other. A man that looks like the member Mac is getting blown by a skinny woman with pink colored hair, she’s butt naked with a snake tattoo claiming her whole right side. I’ve seen a lot of crap in my wild days, but I feel out of my league in every way. Where are Jillian and the kids?

  Pushing through the thick crowd, I seek out Felix or Zeek. The crowd slowly splits and my eyes fall onto Felix. He’s sitting in a chair in the middle of the room owning it as if it’s his throne. A blunt hangs out of his mouth, with smoke dancing around him like an exotic gypsy. He emits power and control by just the size of him and the look on his face. He owns the room without even having to move or say anything. His long hair is down and sitting on his strong shoulders. A black worn shirt pulls at his chest tightly and my fingernails dig into my palm with the urge to scratch him like a wildcat. To feel those hard abs beneath my fingernails.

  Sitting on his knee is a chrome .45; his hand resting on the handle of it. His head is lowered, his gray eyes surveying the room cutting through everyone like a sword before finally meeting mine. I inhale a breath so deep my lungs burn from the smoke, my toes curl in my shoes and I have to remind myself to exhale.

  Taking a step forward, two girls step in my way. One I recognize as Dolly, she used to give Jillian crap a lot, I’m surprised she’s still around. The other woman I’ve never seen before.

  “You lost, sweetheart?” The new girl asks. She’s sexy. Hair pulled into a red bandana that matches her red bra pushing out of her black leather jacket. Her makeup is thick and very heavy, I bet if I licked my thumb and wiped it along her cheek I would see every flaw this shallow girl has.

  “No, I know exactly where I am, thanks,” I sneer, making sure she can hear me above the music.

  “Excuse me, bitch?” Dolly tilts her head to the side. “You don’t mouth to Gia and get away with it,” she laughs.

  “Move,” I raise a brow, daring them to try and play with me. Gia reaches out in a striking manner and I grab her wrist and spin it behind her back as if I was arresting her.

  She screams, and Dolly starts pulling my hair with her fake ass nails. Using my free elbow, I crack her in the face, making her fall to the ground.

  Leaning in, I nip at Gia’s ear. “I’m one bitch you won’t be playing with, babe. Stay out of my way, or I’ll shove my gun so far up your ass you’ll moan my name. Got it?”

  She doesn’t respond, she just squeals, trying to stomp my foot with her skanky heel.

  The music stops, and the crowd is pushed apart. Looking above Gia, I come face to face with Felix. His cold eyes looking almos
t amused at the altercation taking place. Crossing his arms, his head tilts back, his jaw ticking as he takes in the sight before him.

  “Let her go,” he demands, the sound of his voice raspy. Shoving Gia’s arm one more time for good measure I let her go.

  She stumbles, tears in her eyes as she looks at me with a look that could kill.

  “Did you see that? Did you see what she just did?” she whines to Felix.

  “Isn’t she a cop?” A voice from the crowd states, getting everyone riled up.

  “Why are you here?” Felix asks.

  “I have some information you want,” I inform him. He scoffs, looking around the room like I’m insignificant. My heart pounds a little harder, the urge to go ape shit on everyone strong.

  “It involves this morning’s shooting, but obviously you don’t care. So I’ll just wait for the president of the club,” I sass, turning where I stand. Before I make a step forward, I’m whipped around, a tight grip snakes around my throat and I’m slammed against the wall. Felix’s cold eyes slice through me, his body heat radiating off of him. The feel of his fingers wrapped around my throat with such ease but exuding power, I can’t help my nipples budding.

  “Everyone get the fuck out!” he barks, and they obey immediately. Disappearing left and right.

  Felix doesn’t take his eyes off of me though, his clutch on my throat tightening. I swallow, trying to keep my composure, keep my heart rate under control.

  “Spill it,” he commands.

  “First, I need something from you.” The words are hard to get out. A maniacal laugh spills from his mouth, his grip slightly letting up. Leaning forward his lips brush against my ear and my knees buckle from the contact.

  “I think my blue bird is a dirty bird,” he whispers, and my eyes flutter with lust. “Am I right? You want in our pocket don’t you?” He looks me deep in the eyes. I’ve done a lot of shady shit in my career, but right now I’m signing my soul over to the devil knowing I may not get it back.

  “Y-yes,” I mutter, my eyes stinging with the urge to cry. Feeling me cross the line of good to enemy.