Railed (Courage MC #2) (5 page)

“
S
o let
me get this straight,” she began, “I go on a couple dates with this guy, make sure he's distracted, and you plant the evidence in his garage?”

“More or less.” I said. That's not exactly how it would go down, but I didn't want to scare the girl or anything. Still, I had to at least warn her, or give her some sort of insight, before she signed up for the job. “It's going to take some time. It's not going to be easy.” Bruce looked at me angrily. I wasn't sure why Hope grabbed my attention like this, but lately she was always on my mind. This wasn't like me. Normally I didn't give a shit.

“I'll do it. Whatever it takes.” she said, looking at me, as if to say, ‘I know you'll protect me. I trust you.’ She shook Bruce’s hand. There it was. It was a deal.

“Listen, Bruce.” I said, rethinking the whole plan. Who knows, maybe this girl was worth something. I couldn’t just give her up to Bobby. But just as I was about to call the deal off, Angelo came running into the room, covered in blood.

“It's Luke…” he said. “He went crazy. Went and robbed The Sapo Boys. He ruined the whole truce, Bruce!” He was bleeding pretty bad out of his left leg.

“Someone get him to the fucking hospital!” I screamed. “Bruce, what're we gonna do?”

Bruce turned around and clenched his fist. His temper was starting up again, I could see it in plain sight. He wound his arm back and let out a large roar, “FUCK!” He punched the back wall, his fist making its way through the dry wall. We all jumped, including Angelo.

Bruce stormed out into the hallway, punching everything in sight. When he got into the main room of the club, he shut off the music and screamed, “Does anyone have any sense here? We got a man bleeding in the back!” No one moved, out of fear Bruce might turn on them. “God dammit, call an ambulance! Now!” He turned back around, running back into the room.

“I'm going to be okay, man.” Angelo sighed, tightly wrapping his shirt over the wound.

Hope looked as if she were about to faint. In her world, this kind of thing never happened. In our world, this happened all the time. “You need to go.” I said to her.

“I think I'm going to be sick…” she moaned. I almost burst out laughing. It was a childish reaction, but if she couldn't stomach this, how was she going to put up with Bobby Farole? Bruce and Angelo were both staring at me, waiting for the right call. Now was the time to display some leadership.

“I said, you need to go!” I yelled. It was rude, but it had to be done. We had gotten what we needed from her anyway. In our world, your word meant everything. She was escorted outside the club and I could tell she was regretting her decision. This was a different kind of life for her, one that required the stomach to handle seeing some pretty tough things. Angelo bleeding all over the carpet like this was nothing. I had seen men’s souls leave their bodies. I'd probably seen worse than that too if I went through my memories. After a certain point though, you tended to keep all that stuff locked up and buried.

“The Sapo Boys? Shit, Angelo.” I sighed. The Sapo Boys were a crew down south of us. Probably our best hook up with the purest cocaine you you’ve ever thrown up your nose. A bad deal with The Sapo Boys means big fucking trouble. It meant we had no product. No product means a hell of a loss. We're talking millions every month, gone.

Bruce was sweating more than Angelo was. I could see the anger in his eyes. “That deal was everything.” he said, clenching his teeth.

“No. It was more than everything.” I said. “That deal was our dignity, our salary, and our fucking future. Where is he?”

Angelo sat out of breath on the ground, leaking blood everywhere. “He … he just drove off. He came there and unloaded on everyone, Bruce. I don't know what happened. He left me to die back there.”

Bruce sat down, shaking his head. This kind of betrayal was unimaginable in our crew. Nothing had happened like this in years. We all trusted each other. Well, I knew this was going to be bad. First the boys see what happened, next thing no one trusts anyone anymore. That's how a crew dies. I couldn't let that happen. I stood up.

“We find Luke and we bring him to trial. We do things our way.” I closed the door, locking it. “This stays in this room. Luke ain't our brother no more.”

“This is too personal for you.” Bruce said. “I gotta take some time to think about it.”

Angelo was infuriated. He wore a shade of sickly pale. He needed a doctor fast. “What's there to think about? He got me shot. He killed three of The Sapo Boys! Bruce, I'm sorry to stand against you on this, but I was there. I saw what happened. If this were ten years ago, we would have brought him to the basement and killed him in a second.” Even with half his blood gone, Angelo was a scary bastard.

“He's right, Bruce. We can't wait around to decide. You're right, this is personal. Luke will get us all killed if we don't do something about this, so excuse me if I get a little personal about this.” I said more out of fear than anger. With Luke and Bobby going wild on the streets, terrible things were bound to happen.

“Okay. We’ll assemble a damn team. We’ll find him and deliver justice. Avery, you want your first test of being a leader?” I nodded. Of course I did. It's practically all I had been thinking about the past few days. Well, that and Hope’s gorgeous ass… How did I get her involved in all this mess? What have I done? And why did I even care?

“Good. ‘Cause you're in charge of this whole operation now. That means you go and meet with The Sapo Boys. Whatever you do, go in with a calm mind, you hear?” A calm mind? Yeah, like that was going to be easy.

Rumor had it that The Sapo Boys got their name from their old world initiation rites and strange addictions. Their crew went way back. I mean, all the way back to South America. Their family practically runs the Amazon to this day. Now they own a portion of the Colorado. Go figure. Well, the rumor was that they used to hoard these poisoned frogs. They'd dip an old quill or wooden stick into its puss-filled back and extract the poison. Yeah, they'd stick the poison into those lucky enough to be chosen. But that's not all. Oddly enough, their elite candidates underwent the same treatment as their enemies. They'd drink a hallucinogenic tea that would force them to face all their demons. I don’t know about you, but I didn't want to get on their bad side.

Even with all the knowledge of their mysterious tradition, I was all for proving myself. I knew I was the best man for the task. “You got it boss. You can trust me on this. I'll get it done. You have my word.”

The boss looked satisfied. He tucked in his shirt and took a deep breath. “Well alright then. It's settled. In the meantime, keep Hope close. Do what you can to get her that house back. Marry her for all I care. She's already seen too much. We need her to keep her mouth shut, Avery. Don't let me down.”

You know, it wasn't such a bad idea. Maybe I would marry her. It would give me an added layer of respect from the old school bikers, and it would keep her in my sights. I wasn’t enamored by the broad, but not all marriages came from a place of deep love. She had a perfect body at least.

“Don't worry, I got this.” I said. Angelo was still on the floor. He had stopped the blood for the time being but it was obvious he needed to get to a hospital.

“Come on. Help me get Angelo into my truck.” Bruce said. “I'll take him in.” And just like that, the cards were put in my hands. If I fucked this up, there was no telling what would happen…

M
y heart was beating
at a rate akin to a hummingbird on crack cocaine. I know I said I’d help them, but fuck, there were men with guns in that club. And their friend came in covered in blood from a gunshot wound! Whoever Luke or The Sappy Boys were, I didn’t want to get near them. That went for Bobby too. I didn’t want to let Avery down, but in the end, he was just a one-night stand.

Yet, there was a bit of a problem I had yet to find an answer to. I still had no house. I was lying in Avery’s bed. I was wearing his XL t-shirt that I found in the closet. Okay, those were three problems, but really they were one in the same. Okay, think Hope. How are you going to get out of this one? Well, I had burned all my bridges with my mom, my sister is on drugs in some alley somewhere, and now I’m involved with a pretty heavy-duty biker gang.

They didn’t seem to have their shit together though. In fact, Avery was the only one I barely trusted. He at least had some brains buried in that thick skull of his. Ugh. Why did I like him so much! I tried to deny it. Every second of the day I tried. But his butt in those jeans … and his abs in that undershirt…and, Jesus, that cock. He was the real deal. The kind you see in movies and fantasize about. I know he’s bad news. But he’s also been there for me since day one. He’s at least trying to get my life back in order. I couldn’t even say that about Jack. It had been a couple days since I had really seen him though. It was as if he was avoiding me.

I decided to wait it out. Best case scenario, they figure out a better plan to deal with Bobby. Worst case scenario, I spend some time with another biker. Can’t say that I hadn’t had my fair share in the past few days. I grabbed my half-shattered phone and checked my bookmarks – all the best celebrity news sites I could think of. If people were still talking about me, I’d find out through them.

I clicked each site that came up and, boom, my heart sank deep into my chest. There they were, the headlines I had been dreading. “POP STAR GOES…BIKER?” – “FROM THE BIG STAGE TO THE STREET” – “POP STAR WITH LOW-LEVEL DRUG DEALERS: THE RISE AND FALL OF HOPE LAWRENCE.” Oh, God … I thought, I’m fucked.

This couldn’t have been worse for my career. And yet, for the first time in my life, I felt undeniably free. I could do anything I wanted. Everyone knew my career was at its peak. And then, after a few months, it crashed and burned. Good riddance. Now there was a choice. Now there were options. And building something back up from the ashes wasn’t all that hard to do. Michael Jackson did it, over and over again. Hell, Donald Trump did it. And now I would too.

I didn't even bother to read past the headlines. Everything had escalated to an almost unbelievable degree. If they wanted to make me out as a lowlife, then that's what I'd be. The biker’s girl. I kind of liked the sound of that.

I pressed Avery’s soft and worn out shirt against my cheek and breathed in his scent deeply. It smelled like cheap cologne and burnt rubber. Maybe a little like dirt. Even still, I bathed in the scent. It sent me to a place, to that night I spent with him. His cock growing against my lap, our heavy breathing, and his strong hands gripping my body like a stud. I didn't care about refined taste. A guy like Avery was never going to be one of those sophisticated types. But those sophisticated types couldn't fuck like him anyway.

I looked around the room of his massive house. I still couldn't believe it was his. Whatever he did to pull in that kind of cash must've been something big. Frankly, I didn't really want to know. I've never had a sugar daddy before, but if he was willing, I think I'd take him.

On the desk near his bed was a large note that read, ‘Hope’ on the folded end. I grabbed it, hesitating at first, but ultimately deciding to read it. It said:

“Dear Hope, in the closet you'll find an outfit. I'm taking you out tonight. The nicest steakhouse in the city. 7 PM. Be ready. I hope everything fits.

Yours, Avery.”

I set the note back on the table and lightly laughed to myself. An outfit? Sure, why not. I'll see what he got me. I imagined it was a pair of rhinestone jeans, complete with a leather jacket and black boots. I opened my eyes and felt my jaw drop to the floor.

“Holy shit!” I yelled out loud in Avery’s empty house. I couldn't believe it. It was beautiful. In the closet was an imported black Italian dress made from silk. I ran the fabric through my hands. It was incredibly soft and thin. Avery was a man who knew what he wanted. I admired that. Next to the dress was tight lingerie and a pair of heels. Was he serious? I held it up to my body in the mirror and smiled. It was a tight fit, but I decided to give it a try.

Lastly, all around the clothes were scattered roses and mixed chocolates. I smelled one of the roses and helped myself to a few chocolates. Feeling good, I slipped out of my clothes and into the lingerie. I was right. It was extremely tight fitting, but my body looked incredible. I slipped the small dress over the lingerie and twirled in the mirror. Perfect. Would I go to dinner with Avery? After this bribe, the answer was an obvious yes. I couldn't believe how sweet he was being to me. It was almost as if he wanted something from me.

I sighed at the thought. That's why people were so nice to me before. They always wanted more, always looking for a favor. Avery was different, I reasoned. He was helping me, not the other way around. I laid around the house, passing the time by watching Easy Rider, the only DVD he owned.

W
hen the time came
, Avery opened the door to his house and called out, “Hope, you there?”

My hair was curled and cute and I wore a dark shade of lipstick. My new heels were sexy and glamorous. For the first time in days, I felt beautiful. I slowly opened the door to his room and walked outside, running my hands nervously across the fabric of my new dress. To be honest, I was afraid my ass would fall right out. “I can't believe you got me to wear this.” I said awkwardly.

“Wow…” Avery sighed. “You look … incredible.” He stood at the foot of the door admiring me.

“Stop joking around.” I said.

“No, really. You're fit to be a queen.” He said. “If I had any sense, I'd marry you right now.” The scoop on my dress was low and my tits barely even fit inside. His eyes trailed up and down my body. Of course he was smiling, thinking about all the things he could do to me. I wasn't going to let that happen though. If he wanted me, he'd have to do more than buy me an expensive outfit.

“Thanks.” I said. “Don't think this means I'm going to sleep with you again.” I grabbed his hand as he led me out the door.

“’Course it doesn't…” he muttered with a smile. When we stepped outside, I nearly fell to the floor with shock. In the street were at least 20 bikers, all revving their engines.

“What…? What is this, Avery?” I asked.

“For you. My queen.” He said.

“Who said I'm your queen?” It was a bitchy response, but I couldn't give in to him that easy.

“I did. Let's ride, baby.” He winked and picked me up by my butt, cradling me in his arms. I looked over at his bulging biceps and felt that familiar pressure of warmth between my legs. It was going to be hard to hold back tonight.

He set me gently on the seat of his motorcycle and hopped on in front of me. I was getting used to riding on the back of a bike. Actually, it seemed preferable to a car. The wind rushes against your face, the trees whip by, and you get a sense that you’re fully experiencing the ride. “Thank you for this.” I found myself saying to Avery as a patrol of bikers led us to our destination. I did feel like royalty, and holding onto his incredible chest felt strangely right.

I had to snap out of it. I had to let go, metaphorically speaking of course. He was too different from me. He grew up one way and I grew up another. That was the oldest kind of tragedy ever told. So that night I made a deal with myself not to get too attached to Avery. Even if he was helping me, I wasn’t letting him because I loved him. I was letting him because I had to.

“You deserve this.” Avery called out against the wind. “And there’s more where that came from, I promise you that.” Ugh. Who was this guy? I held on and kept my mouth shut.

When we got to the restaurant, we parked the bikes and walked toward the entrance. It was guarded by two short and strange men. They were wearing matching bolo ties and large fancy black hats. They were the kind you’d see in South America, perhaps at a funeral of some sort. Oddly enough, the bikers all got off their bikes with us, as if they came to protect us from some sort of unknown danger.

“Avery? What’s going on? Why are they coming inside with us?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“Look, don’t get angry,” Avery said, “but I need you to help me out.” He held both of my arms in place, running his fingers up and down. He could tell my blood was starting to boil.

“What … the hell … is … going on?” I muttered under my breath, trying not to explode. My heart was beating like a sledge hammer. I swear, if he doesn’t tell me what the hell is happening, I’ll kill the bastard!

He pulled me off to the side as the bikers began talking to the two strange men out front. I eyed them as they pulled out two large cigarettes that seemed to be triple the length of normal ones. They lit the ends and acted as if they couldn’t understand Avery’s men. Avery tried to explain things as best as he could. “Angelo got thrown into a messy situation the other day. You saw him. He nearly lost his life. I know I’ve kept you in the dark on a lot of this stuff, but if you promise to help me out on this, I’ll call Rust tonight and check on the status of your house.”

What a fucking liar. “Rust can’t do shit can he?” I asked him. What could he possibly do? Tell the bank to give my house back? I may have been ignorant on money matters, but I wasn’t that stupid.

“He can and he will.” he said, turning away from me. “Now you can help me or you can leave me to die. Your choice.” He simply walked away from me, headed towards the men in front. He whispered in the ears of the men and they opened the door, leading him inside. In a split second, I made a rash decision. I chose to stay.

Fuck. I chose to stay!