Rogue (Sons of Sangue Book 4) (14 page)

As the vehicles neared, red hair secured into a messy bun caught his attention.

What the…?

Tamera Cantrell pulled her fancy new SUV alongside Cara’s Charger as they came to a stop some twenty feet away. Cara alighted from the car, followed by her mate, Kane, and Detective Hernandez. Tamera was last to jump from her vehicle, a look of unease crossing her face. Why she was here, Anton had no clue. He supposed he was about to find out.

“You want to tell me why the fuck she’s here,” Anton all but growled. “She used to be a journalist, for crying out loud. You have a death wish for me?”

“I’m still a journalist, Blondy. What the hell did you do to your hair?”

He ran a hand through his dark, shorter hair, not really answering her. “I’m assuming you know about the cover.”

“Yeah, well, you looked better as a blond.” Tamera leaned against the front of her SUV, her booted foot propped on the bumper. “Cara can tell you why I’m here.”

“I think she might be of help, Blondy,” Cara said.

“So she knows?”

Cara nodded. “Joe and I decided having a journalist on our side might come in handy. She can do things, and get in places where we might otherwise draw suspicion. And you would draw too much attention if you asked the wrong questions.”

“Gypsy know?”

Tamera shook her head. “For all he knows, at the moment, is that I decided to take my job back at
Florence Times
. I’m not sure keeping him in the dark is the wisest decision. He’ll want to kick my ass when he finds out I knew.”

“She’s abiding by our wishes,” Cara continued. “I told her if things get too heated, she can bring Gypsy in. But for now, it’s only us.”

Anton scratched his nape, still unsure if bringing in a journalist was the wisest move. “It’s your call, Brahnam. Is that why you called this meeting? To tell me Tamera will be working the case?”

“Journalists have ways of getting informants to talk, people that are otherwise untrusting. We figure she could go in with the guise of wanting to do a piece on MCs, question some of the Devils.”

“And you don’t think they won’t know her relationship with Gypsy?”

Cara shrugged. “I don’t think so. I don’t think the Devils care who their rival MC members bed. Besides, I think their arrogance will demand their voice be heard. Why the hell would they care who she sleeps with? They may want her to know the Devils’ side of things so she doesn’t slant the article in the Sons favor.”

“They’ll care if they think she’s spying on them.” Anton jammed a hand through his short hair. He raised his voice, his ire rising. “Christ, now I’ll be responsible for keeping her ass out of trouble too. You think of that, Brahnam?”

Kane took a couple of steps so he now stood beside his mate, leaving Joe leaning against the Charger. “Cara knows what she’s doing, Blondy. Anywhere Tamera goes, I’ll be close behind. You keep an eye on Draven and your own ass. You let me worry about Tamera. I’m sure Gypsy wouldn’t take kindly to you keeping an eye out for his mate anyway.”

“Hello … I’m right here. You boys act like I’m not in the room, or on this gravel road,” Tamera added with a wink. “Before Gypsy goes all caveman on either of you, I’ll make sure he knows what’s going on. That was my deal with Cara. I’m not about to make the rift between Blondy and Gypsy any bigger. Whether you believe it or not, he loves you. You’re his brother. He just can’t figure out why the hell you would’ve gone rogue, and it burns his ass. He feels betrayed. Let’s get this solved and bring you home.”

“Amen,” Joe spoke up. “I’m all for getting the DEA and Robbie Fucking Melchor off our backs. The DEA has 500k invested in this. They certainly don’t want to lose their money.”

Anton knew the DEA were fronting Draven the money, but as of now Raúl wasn’t moving blow. There was little they could do about it. The more Draven pressed them, the more they’d think he was involved with the cops.

“No one knows more than me what’s on the line, Detective Hernandez.” He pointed at the man. “You can tell Captain Melchor to kiss my ass if he has a problem with the timeline. Draven pushes too hard too fast, his life’s on the line, not Melchor’s. Draven’s already called me, trying to get me to go to Tank, the Devils P, to get him a meet and greet with Raúl. I won’t do that until the heat dies down a bit. When he gets his meeting, I’ll make sure you all know about it.”

“Good. Sometimes Draven doesn’t use his damn head. Pushing too hard could get you all killed.” Cara looked at Kane. “You think you can keep a good eye on Tamera without being seen?”

“You know it. We’ll get her down there, and she can begin questioning some of the Devils. We can come up with some ideas collectively, get their arrogance to talk, get them bragging. Being a reporter, they’ll expect the questions she asks. Blondy can’t get those kinds of answers without raising suspicion.”

“I was doing fine.”

Kane chuckled. “No one said you weren’t, big guy. But the DEA is starting to lean on Cara and Joe. We need more. That’s why we thought it best to bring in Tamera. Besides, it will do her good to get the hell away from Gypsy now and then.”

Tamera smiled. “Oh, what fun he’ll have being daddy without me.”

Anton shook his head. “When he finds out he’s been kept out of the loop, and forced into part-time single parenthood so you could go back to work, where your first case involves me, he’s liable to light up all our asses.”

“Give me your burner phone.” Cara held out her hand.

Anton reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out the flip phone. Cara keyed in a number, then handed it back. “BABE is Tamera. If you need to warn her about anything coming up, you call her and get her the hell out of there.”

Anton shoved the cell back into his pocket. “That goes without saying.”

Cara heaved a sigh. “You get to act like your sweet on the little reporter, Blondy, giving her even more reason to hang around the Devils.”

Lord help him if Grayson found out he was hanging all over his mate. He’d hand Anton his ass, DEA sting or not. Anton turned and headed for his bike. Straddling it, he grabbed the helmet and snapped beneath his chin.

He looked at Tamera. “You better fucking call me anytime you are in the Devils’ territory. If Gypsy’s going to be kicking my tail, it will be for breathing down your neck, not for any harm coming to you. Those boys are as mean as they come and they wouldn’t think twice about trying to take you out if they think you’re getting too nosy. You may be stronger than they are, but they have guns. You’re not invincible.”

“Just let me do my job, Blondy. I’m good at it.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he grumbled. “Now don’t fucking forget… It’s Rogue. I haven’t been called Blondy since I burned my Sons’ vest. You come in there calling me Blondy, they’ll associate you with me and the Sons for sure, putting us both in danger.”

Hitting the electric start, the bike roared to life. He had one more job before heading back down the coast, getting Kimber one mean ass dog for protection.

* * *

Kimber pushed a dust broom across the wood floor in her living room. She had a couple of hours before she needed to be at work, so she had decided to busy herself. Her mind traveled back to the night before, wanting much more of the same. Put her in a room with her hot-as-sin neighbor and she turned into a first class nympho. Kimber was sure Anton wouldn’t mind a repeat performance, nor would she for that matter, but the last thing he seemed to want was a woman on his arm or in his bed. She refused to become the needy person he’d want to run fast and far from.

Waking around a quarter after ten, Kimber had stretched the aches from her muscles before slipping from her bed and heading for the en suite. She turned on the hot water, stepped in and allowed the heat to ease the soreness. One thing Anton had going for him … well, other than moving up to an eleven on a scale from one-to-ten … was being stellar in the sack. When no other man had managed to give her an orgasm, Anton had no problem finding her sweet spots.

Now, a few hours later, a silly smile crossed her face. She had loved every single reason for her aches and only hoped she could persuade him into spending another night once her shift at the library was over. The problem was that Kimber had no clue how soon he’d be heading down the coast and back to his MC. She certainly hoped he’d come see her before he left. Months could pass for she’d see him again.

At least she hoped it wasn’t longer.

The last time an entire year had passed before she had set eyes on him. Oh, he had probably come home, checked on things and been gone without her ever knowing he had been at his farmhouse. After all, she had tried damn hard to forget the man for the way he had treated her before heading south last summer.

This time would be different. Anton had made it pretty clear he wasn’t one to share. Kimber hoped he realized that went two ways. If he was keeping his libido in check while in Santa Barbara in order to keep her from seeing others, then she prayed his sexual appetite drove him north. Anton didn’t seem like a man who would go long without.

Last night he had been insatiable.

Placing her hands on the broom handle, she braced her chin atop them, and stared out her picture window, memories of the night before making her wistful. Anton sure knew how to use his hands, not to mention more intimate parts of his hard body. Just the thought of how very talented he was left a pleasing ache between her thighs. A fully dressed Anton was striking. A fully naked one was spectacular. Sculpted in all the right places as though he spent hours in the gym. Kimber doubted he sported an ounce of fat.

Her mind recalled each sharp line, each ridge of muscle, tracing them all with her fingers and her tongue. Kimber recollected the Devil tattoo on his left shoulder, and the inked over tattoo of the Sons of Sangue skull, turning it into some sort of large tribal art, between his shoulder blade. Other than the two, the rest of Anton’s flesh had been tattoo free. She preferred the look of clean skin. Not that she was opposed to tattoos, but for her personal tastes Kimber appreciated the fact Anton hadn’t followed the trend of covering his body with them.

Now that she thought about it, she could recall every inch of him from the neck down, his smooth flesh, the light dusting of hair, the mouthwatering happy trail and so much more. But when she tried to recall anything north of his shoulders, recollect the ecstasy on his face, the indigo coloring of his eyes, it all came back foggy.

Very odd.

As a matter of fact, the year before had been much the same. It was as if somehow in the throes of passion her mind’s eye somehow shutdown when it came to recalling his handsomely rugged face. She could recall the scratch of his beard against her breasts and between her thighs, but she couldn’t for the life of her recollect the five o’clock shadow on his cheeks. Had it been so dark? Of course not. The moon had cast its light across her bed. No blinds had been drawn, and the curtains had been left open. This far out and on the second floor, there was no one to see in anyway. Next time, she’d be tempted to leave on the bedside lamp.

The rattle of the older Ford truck caught her attention. Kimber leaned her dust broom against the nearest wall, then walked out onto the porch. The wooden screen slapped shut behind her. Anton's dark head and bright smile greeted her from behind the steering wheel as he pulled into her driveway. A smile crossed her face and her heart kicked up a beat. Just before he slipped the truck into park, a gray dog poked his head up from Anton’s lap and stuck its black nose out the window. She wasn’t aware Anton had a dog. At least she had never seen one running in his yard, nor had she remembered him ever talking about one.

Taking the steps down from her porch, she met Anton as he exited the vehicle, the dog jumping down behind him. The impressive canine stood by his side. The animal had a large head, massive chest, and a wide stance, making him appear quite fearsome. He had a soft gray coat and a white marking running from between his eyes to the tip of his black nose. Each of his large paws appeared as though they had been dipped in white paint. But it was the dog’s vivid blue eyes that made her fall in love.

“He’s beautiful.” Kimber grinned, looking back at Anton. “Is he yours?”

“Beautiful?” One of his brows arched. “A pit bull is not supposed to be beautiful. Fierce maybe, or even ferocious.”

Kimber slowly lowered the back of her hand, which the dog tentatively sniffed. Once he decided she was okay, he pushed his large head into her palm, and Kimber promptly awarded him with a scratch behind the ear.

“Good boy,” she cooed. “What’s your name?”

“Diesel.”

“Well then, Diesel, you’re an impressive big boy.” She patted his head and glanced back at Anton. “Better?”

He chuckled. “Slightly. More like dangerous … mean, vicious.”

“He’s just a big baby.” Kimber scratched beneath his white chin. “Aren’t you, Diesel?”

As if on cue, the dog rolled over and gave her his belly. Anton shook his head and laughed. “Some watchdog I got you. No one told me a Blue Nose Pit could be such a big baby.”

Kimber knelt down and gave his massive chest a good scratching. “Well, I for one, am glad he’s a big baby. I think he likes me.”

“I suppose that’s a good thing since he’s yours.”

She stopped Diesel’s belly rub and stood. “What in the world am I supposed to do with a dog? I don’t have time for a dog. Not with my hours at the library. What will he do while I’m at work?”