Roped (13 page)

Stuffing his gun in the waistband of his jeans against his lower back, Tek turned his prisoner over to Jamie and pulled off his backpack. This was the fourth hit in the past month they’d worked on together; each knew their jobs. Silently, they worked, Buck and Jamie tying the Bangers together in a corner as Tek filled his pack with the numerous bags of dope that littered the table.

Once the bags were collected and prisoners dealt with, the three of them began destroying every plant. Tek felt a rush of glee surge through him as he ripped plants from the dirt, crushed them in his hands, and threw them to the ground. He fucking hated illegal drugs. Hated what a man would do for his next fix and had a special loathing for those who dealt in them. There were a lot of things his club had done that Tek wasn’t proud of, but the drugs had always bothered him the most. A man would sell his soul for the next fix; women sold their bodies, abandoned children; babies were born addicted. He snatched another plant from its dirt bed, threw it to the floor, and ground it under his boot. He then took out his frustration on the sun lamps.

Tek ripped the leg from one of the tables, sending dirt and pottery crashing to the floor. Glass and sparks rained down as he swung the wooden leg like a bat. Tek let the anger wash through him as he swung over and over and over, destroying every light, ignoring the way the glass shards stung the area around his eyes, each connection of wood to glass satisfying. When every light was extinguished—except a single bulb hanging from the ceiling near the bottom of the stairs—Tek turned his rage on the tables. Sweat ran down his spine, his pulse thundering in his ears as he flipped tables over, kicked and stomped planters, shredded aluminum foil.

Arms wrapped around Tek from behind, restraining. Panic flared up in Tek, and he fought to throw off the tight embrace, clawing at forearms, twisting and struggling. His heart pounded so hard it felt as if it were bursting out of his chest, glass and sweat burned his eyes, making him disoriented.

“Tek,” Jamie hissed, barely above a whisper. The low, familiar voice was enough to cut through the haze of rage, and Tek stilled. “That’s it,” Jamie coaxed. “Deep breaths.”

Tek trembled as the fury seeped from his body with Jamie’s soothing voice, his strong arms holding Tek firmly, supporting and grounding him once again in reality.

“Better?”

“Yeah,” he responded huskily, throat raw. His head was throbbing, eyes burning and muscles screaming; he was dizzy and very, very far from okay. But he was better than he was before Jamie brought him back from wherever the hell the anger had taken him.

Tek took a deep, calming breath and let it out slowly. He then reached into his front jeans pocket—Jamie’s arms fell away—and pulled out the swatch of material with a patch on it. He let it fall from his fingers.

“I’m okay,” he muttered, more to convince himself than Jamie, and headed up the stairs. Tek didn’t stop until he was sitting in the truck.

“What the fuck was that?” Buck demanded as he slid in behind the wheel and slammed the door.

Jamie yanked off his mask as he climbed into the back seat, Tek watching him intently. “You okay?” Jamie asked cautiously.

Tek threw his backpack at his feet and fastened his seatbelt. “I’m fine,” he told them both.

“You sure as fuck didn’t look fine a few minutes ago,” Buck snapped as he fired up the truck and stomped on the gas.

“The job got done,” Tek countered defensively. He pulled the mask from his face and shoved it into his pocket, wincing as the glass shards stung his face. A painful jab to Tek’s lower back reminded him he’d stored his gun in his waistband, and he retrieved it and checked the clip.

“That’s beside the point,” Buck countered. “What the hell happened to you, man?”

“I got pissed, now let it go,” Tek grunted. He laid the weapon in his lap and leaned his head against the window. Fuck, he was drained. He just wanted a shower, some ice for his burning eyes, and sleep, hours and hours of uninterrupted sleep. However, he knew if the nightmares didn’t keep him from achieving what he wanted, Jamie would. It was a conversation he wasn’t looking forward to. He had no answers to give, only shame.

H
OW
J
AMIE
knew Tek needed some time to process what had happened, Tek didn’t know, but Jamie barely said two words to him while they informed Rocco about the hit. He didn’t jump to Tek’s defense while Buck ranted and cursed about what he’d seen Tek do, nor during the reaming he’d taken from Rocco for being a loose cannon. But really, how could he? Even on the ride to the hotel, Jamie had sat quietly in the passenger seat of Tek’s truck. There had been no worry or disgust marring his features, only a quiet thoughtfulness in his friend’s expressions.

Tek shrugged out of his coat and laid it on the chair as Jamie closed and locked the door. He started to speak, but Jamie’s lips against his cut off his words. When Jamie wrapped his arms around him, pulled him tight, and shoved his tongue down Tek’s throat, what he intended to say was forgotten. The kiss, hard and deep, was a clash of lips and teeth that demanded Tek’s focus as did the powerful hands pulling at his clothes.

Jamie broke the kiss and started pulling at Tek’s shirt. “Off,” he growled.

“Pushy bastard,” Tek snorted and yanked it off over his head.

“We have one hour,” Jamie reminded him. He fumbled with the belt on Tek’s jeans. “I don’t want to waste it with needless conversation.”

Tek agreed and, without a word, pushed Jamie’s hands away and undid his jeans before letting them fall to the floor. They were both breathing hard, the room otherwise quiet. Impatient, Tek toed off his shoes as he worked at Jamie’s belt, getting it open and his jeans pushed down his hips as Jamie removed his coat and pulled off his T-shirt.

The minute Jamie was free of his shirt, Tek shoved him back on the bed. Shoes, socks, and jeans discarded haphazardly around the room, Tek placed a hand on either side of Jamie’s head, supporting himself with his arms, and pressed his hard cock against Jamie’s, smirking at the hiss it produced from his lover.

Jamie responded by grabbing Tek’s hips and grinding their groins even harder together, forcing an echoing hiss from Tek. Jamie held on to Tek as he pushed higher up on the bed. In perfect sync they moved together, driven by need, arms and legs wrapped around each other.

Tek ran his tongue down the length of Jamie’s neck, biting down on the bulging muscle of Jamie’s shoulders. Jamie jerked and then shuddered when Tek soothed away the sting with his tongue and sucked gently on the abused flesh.

The rhythm of their bodies increased in tempo to an almost frenzied pace, hard cock sliding along hard cock, a steady stream of precum slicking the way. Tek pushed back and looked down at his lover. He needed to see Jamie’s face, see the pleasure and ground himself in the present.

Jamie’s eyes were dark with lust beneath heavy lids. He gasped and moaned as they humped and rutted hard against each other, his fingers digging into the meaty flesh of Tek’s ass. Tek took it all and gave it back, never taking his gaze from Jamie’s handsome face. The anger, frustration, and coldness from earlier were forgotten as he basked in the heat of Jamie.

When Jamie came it was more of a sigh, a whisper of Tek’s name as he tensed and jerked. The sight of Jamie giving in to pleasure, hearing his name spoken like a prayer was enough to send Tek over the edge, painting Jamie’s belly and chest.

They collapsed into a heap of tangled limbs, fingers still kneading, holding, neither wanting to lose the connection. They lay together, silent and touching, until their breaths were slow and even.

Jamie kissed him. “You feel better?” he asked softly.

“Yeah, a lot,” Tek admitted. “Even if I am a sticky mess.”

“The sticky mess is just a bonus,” Jamie snorted.

Tek sighed and buried his face in the side of Jamie’s neck. “I don’t want to go back out. I’m so tired of it, Jamie. I just wish the whole fucking world would disappear, and I could stay just like this for a week.”

“You’d starve,” Jamie teased and then kissed him again. “But I know what you mean. This shit with the Bangers and Mongols is going to get out of control.”

“It’s more than just that. I was talking more about the frustration of wanting to be with you. You’re not the only one feeling the stress of it. It’s fucking me up emotionally.”

“Is that what happened today?” Jamie asked gently.

“At first, it was anger for the dope, the Bangers, that I was once again put in a position I had to take a life, all this shit with the club, ya know,” he admitted. “But as I was swinging that piece of wood, I started thinking about you and what you said about how unfair it all was, and I just fucking lost it.”

Jamie didn’t say anything, but he tightened his hold on Tek, let him know through his embrace and touch that he understood. Tek’s head resting on Jamie’s chest, he could hear the steady rhythm of Jamie’s heart, feel the slow, even rise and fall of his breath. Tek’s body was like a sponge as it drew in Jamie’s heat, and it was enough to burn off the cold that had settled into his soul.

Times like this, these stolen moments of peace, were the only time Tek could escape the evilness that was taking over him. He had no illusions of ever finding forgiveness for his sins. But when he was in Jamie’s arms, he felt like a decent man, a good man, someone worthy of love.

But like all good things in Tek’s life, it came to an end too soon. Time was the enemy, and once again he was forced to leave the peace of Jamie’s arms and return to reality. Reluctantly, Tek left the bed, washed the remnants of their time together from his stomach and chest, and splashed cold water onto his face. He avoided his reflection in the mirror, no longer able to stand what he saw.

When he stepped out of the bathroom, he tossed a wet rag to Jamie, gathered up his scattered clothing, and got dressed. As he sat on the edge of the bed to put on his shoes and socks, he looked up at Jamie, who was pulling his shirt on. “You ready for this next hit?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Jamie responded. “Hit ’em hard and fast.”

“That’s the plan.” And the sooner this shit was over, the better in Tek’s book.

One last shared kiss and they stepped out of the hotel room. Tek rolled his shoulders as he headed to his truck; he could already feel the tension seeping back into his muscles. As they approached Tek’s truck, two men stepped out of the black sedan that was parked next to them.

“Mr. Cain,” the driver said and pulled out a badge from inside his jacket and flashed it. “Federal agents. We’d like to have a word with you and Mr. Ryan.”

Tek’s pulse sped, and he eyed them suspiciously, his feet rooted to concrete.

“What’s this about?” Jamie asked, moving to put himself slightly between the officers and Tek, Jamie obviously mistrustful of the strangers.

They had every right to be apprehensive. One of their members, John Boy, had been picked up by two men claiming to be feds who showed up at his house one night. His remains were found a week later in the desert by a couple of hikers. He’d been shot execution style.

“You mind if I see that badge?” Tek nodded to the driver. “Yours too,” he grunted to the other man.

“Sure,” the driver said easily and handed Tek his badge, as did the other officer.

Tek studied the badges: Agent Mark Sheppard and Agent Michael Regan. The badges looked authentic, but as he handed them back, Tek was still wary, his gut clenching in warning.

“What’s this about?” Tek echoed Jamie’s question.

“We’d like to offer you gentleman a deal,” Agent Sheppard remarked, slipping his badge back into his pocket. His grin caused the hair at the nape of Tek’s neck to stand on end.

“We don’t deal with the feds,” Tek said adamantly.

“Oh, I think you’ll be most interested in this deal,” Agent Regan put in. He reached into his pocket, and Tek tensed. Tek only relaxed slightly when Agent Regan pulled out an envelope instead of a gun and held it out to Tek.

Tek shot a questioning glance at Jamie, who looked unnerved, his eyes wary. “What’s this?” Tek asked, taking the offered envelope.

The air rushed out of Tek’s lungs and his heart stopped dead in his chest when he opened the envelope to find a photo of him and Jamie in the shower, Jamie on his knees with his mouth wrapped around Tek’s cock. Tek couldn’t breathe, his head spinning as he continued to stare at the photo. They’d obviously been watching them for months. Tek expected to feel rage that they had spied on his and Jamie’s intimate moments, but he felt dead. Because that’s exactly what he was, a dead man walking.

A car door slammed shut, and Tek looked up, dazed, unsteady as he captured the dual grins on the agents’ faces.

“From the look on your face, I can see you understand what the terms of our deal are.” Agent Sheppard slid a business card next to the photo. “I’ll give you two some time to think this through. You have twenty-four hours to make your decision.”

“Good evening, gentleman,” Agent Regan smirked.

Tek watched the agents get into their car and drive off as his world crumbled around him.