Strays (Red Kings #1) (12 page)

“John Donovan.”

Dean wiped his face with a hand, sighing. He was tired of this old fuck causing problems. Since that night in front of the diner, things had been running relatively smooth, with only a minor glitch here and there. But snitches never stay quiet for long.

“What's the stupid shithead done now?”

“He's flipped on us. Been giving info to the B Street crew again and taking some money under the table for it. They've been boosting cars and selling parts on our side of town for the last two months.”

“Goddammit!” Dean banged a fist on the table. The last thing he wanted was to waste his time on that sleazy douchebag. But enough was enough, nobody interfered with the Red Kings business. “When am I doing it?”

Luke studied him closely before replying, “We leave at nine in the morning, so don't get too drunk tonight.”

Dean looked at him curiously, wondering why the boss had included himself in the outing. “We?”

“Yeah, we.”

“Who's we?” Dean was getting impatient. There was no 'we' when something of this nature needed to be done. There was just 'he'. He always worked alone on these types of jobs.

“Me, you...” Luke paused for a few seconds. “Jagger. We.”

“Jagger?” Since when did he need a babysitter, not to mention two, while on a job?

“Yes, Jagger.” Luke shrugged his shoulders like it was a common occurrence for Jagger to go do a job with Dean. “He offered, said something along the lines of things being too quiet in Lakeside. He needs some action.”

“Fine then. I'll see you two at nine.” He sharply turned on his heel and left the room.

Luke sat at the oak table staring after his enforcer. He drew a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it, inhaling the smoke deeply. He wondered if Dean would be able to do it, be the merciless killer that he always was. If something went wrong tomorrow and Dean wasn't able to go through with the job, the girl would have to go.

There hadn’t been any trouble in Macon recently, but he could see a subtle change in his ruthless soldier. The anger that had always simmered just under the surface in him, the fuel that his violent nature needed to do what had to be done, was all but gone now. There was a calm inside him that had taken over and the president didn’t like it. She was messing with his head and Luke could see it. He'd be damned if he would let the club suffer the consequences of Dean having a conscious.

Dean walked into the main room, people moving out of his way as he walked to the bar to grab a fresh beer. He looked for Jackie and spotted the familiar head of long, dark hair in the crowd. The woman was sitting on a couch next to Jagger, right where he had left her. She seemed to be enjoying the conversation she was having with him, laughing at everything he said. Knowing how talkative a drunk Jagger could be, the situation didn't sit well with Dean. He made his way quickly over to the pair, raising his eyebrows as he caught the words “bra” and “stripper,” followed by a burst of laughter from Jackie. Jagger smirked at her response, looking over her shoulder and spotting Dean coming towards them.

“Deano! Glad you're back.” Jackie turned to look at him, not able to contain a round of giggles that fell past her lips as her eyes landed on Dean. Jagger wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she fell against him in a fit of laughter. “I was just telling Jackie about that other girlfriend you had. What was her name? Cinnamon? Chastity?”

Dean groaned and rolled his eyes, then grudgingly answered. “Her name was Candy. And I wasn't with her.”

In between peals of laughter, Jackie managed to get in a few words. “I can't believe you had a stripper stalking you. Well, I sort of can actually. But did she really handcuff herself to your bike while she was completely naked?”

Jagger began to chuckle at the look on his friend's face. “At least I didn't tell her about the time you-”

“Shut up. Just... stop talking.” Dean sat grumpily in the armchair across from the couch, glaring at the pair as they laughed together. This definitely did not sit well with him.

The trio sat and talked for the next few hours, with Jackie trying to pry funny stories out of Jagger and Dean threatening to kill him multiple times. Just as Jackie was about to get something out of Jagger, a giant yawn escaped her and she realized just how tired she was.

“I think I'm going to head home. I'm exhausted.” She stood up carefully, using the arm of the couch to steady herself.

“Tired already? It's only a little past eleven, babe.” Jagger looked up at her with a smirk, trying to convince her to stay. “C'mon, you can make it a little later.”

Dean, on the other hand, was scrutinizing everything about Jackie. “You feelin' okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine. Just really tired all of a sudden.” She smiled at the pair, waving off Dean's concern. “It's just all the excitement.”

Nodding his head, but not looking convinced, Dean replied, “Why don't you just crash in my room. You shouldn't be driving if you're that tired.”

“Yeah, I think I might. Thanks. It was nice to meet you, Jagger. You guys sticking around for a few days?”

“Of course. You can't get rid of us that fast.” He stood up and gave Jackie a hug, looking down at her with a mischievous expression on his face. “You need any help getting to bed?” He wagged his eyebrows at her, making her laugh. Dean was much less amused and used his foot to shove the coffee table into Jagger's leg.

He cursed and glared at Dean, who's expression remained blank. “I was just offering to help, shit.” Jackie laughed and, with a last wave, headed into the back of the clubhouse.

16

May 26
th

It wasn't the shuffling that woke her up, it was the annoying clicking sound coming from who knows where. Jackie's eyes fluttered open and she groaned, being temporarily blinded by the light coming from outside. The sun was shining brightly, and when she looked at the digital clock beside her, she saw it was early, too early. Usually, she was one of the first people up, out of bed no later than seven. But today's shift at the diner didn't start until noon and she had hoped to sleep in after last night's party. The clock was currently reading eight-thirty and she groaned again, sitting up.

Yawning, she scrubbed a hand over her eyes and looked around the room. Dean was sitting at his desk, a black bag open on the surface in front of him. His cut was draped on the back of the chair and a bulletproof vest was hanging on top of it. She furrowed her brows, but her attention was drawn away from that as the strange clicking noise that had woken her up commenced again. She realized it was coming from whatever Dean had in his hands, and her eyes stared at his bare tattooed back for a few moments as she decided whether it was a good idea to see what he was doing.

She carefully threw the covers off of her and stood up, her feet making no noise on the floor. She took a few tentative steps forward and stopped behind him, peeking over his shoulder. Jackie's half-asleep brain could hardly process the small collection of guns that were laid out on top of the desk. Dean was in the middle of cleaning out a double barrel shotgun with uncharacteristically gentle care.

Jackie opened her mouth to speak, but hesitated. What would she say? Good morning? Ask him how he'd slept? If he was planning to take her out for dinner later that night?

“What are you doing?” she asked quietly, breaking the silence of the room.

Dean turned at the sound and fixed his gaze upon her, his expression remaining blank. His intense eyes made her shrink back almost instantly. Finished with his task, he put the shotgun carefully into a duffel bag, followed by the rest of his weapons. He stood up and zipped it closed, then slid the vest on over his broad shoulders. He moved around Jackie, not even looking at her as he made his way to the dresser.

Jackie stood rooted to the spot, her eyes darting from the desk and the bag of guns to where he was pulling out a sweatshirt from the closet. She knew that most of the guys preferred to carry guns with them, but she had never seen so many of the weapons casually out in the open.

She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing that when she opened them, she'd be somewhere else. Perhaps she had gone home last night, instead of staying at the clubhouse, and was now dreaming. Opening her eyes again, she saw the same old wooden desk, the club's skull logo on the wall above it grinning sinisterly at her.

“Dean?” Her voice was quiet and she almost thought he didn't hear her. Dean was on his way back to the desk when she had spoken and had paused for a brief second, assuring Jackie that he had, in fact, heard her. “What's going on?”

The biker didn't acknowledge her at first. He put a holster on over his sweatshirt before turning around, looking her in the eyes. “What do you mean?”

The nonchalant tone he spoke with irked her, and she found it hard not to explode on him. “What do I mean? I think you know damn well what I mean!” One of his eyebrows rose, but he didn't reply otherwise. That made her even angrier, and she put her hands on her hips, taking a step towards him. “I wake up and find you packing a bag of guns, looking like you're some kind of crazy executioner! What is going on?”

Her voice had risen a few notches and if it had been any other day, Dean would have been quite amused. As it was, he was getting more irritated by the second. It didn't help a single bit that Jackie had been spot on with her assessment of the situation. He was an executioner. He had hoped that Jackie would be gone when he started getting ready. She didn't need to know what he was about to do.

During the course of the previous half hour, he had cleaned his guns and knives, thinking about the job he had to do today. It wasn't anything new to him; killing was what he did. He had killed plenty of people, never even batting an eye. John Donovan wasn't going to be a challenge.

One of Luke's contacts had told them that John had been giving information to a rival gang, thus successfully ruining the Kings' business deals. The contact had also provided the charter president with information on Donovan's current location. The snitch was shacked up in a lake cabin not too far away playing house with his young mistress.

Dean had been so deep in thought that he hadn't heard Jackie getting up, nor had he heard her approaching him. He had been surprised when she spoke, but many years in his position with the club allowed him not to show it. After looking at her for a few moments, he had quickly zipped up the bag with the guns and gotten dressed, ignoring her questions. He was more than ready to get out of the room, not expecting her outburst. He didn't owe her an explanation; he'd told her right off the bat that he wasn't a good guy.

“Are you done?” His voice was flat, emotionless.

“You're not going to say anything?” Jackie threw her hands in the air. “You're seriously going to stand there and not say anything?”

“I gotta leave in a minute.” When she continued to stare at him, he sighed. “What do you want me to say, Jackie? You knew damn well what to expect when you got into this.”

“Well, I sure as hell didn't expect to catch you gearing up for a fight!” She knew she was overreacting a bit, but she couldn't help being upset.

“This is what I do!”

She hadn't expected him to yell back at her and she paused for a second. Just as she was about to respond, there was a knock on the door. Dean sighed and opened it, revealing Jagger and Johnny standing on the other side.

“We're ready to go.”

Dean quickly turned at Jagger's words and snatched the bag from the desk. He walked past Jackie and out the door, not looking at anyone. It was obvious that he was angry. Jackie was sure Jagger and Johnny also saw it, even if by some miracle they hadn't heard the yelling coming from the room moments ago.

The two Lakeside bikers shared a glance before Jagger focused his attention on Jackie. He whistled, looking her up and down.

“Pity I have to go, but I'd sure like to see you waiting for me dressed like that when I get back.” A grin formed on his lips as he took in the shirt Jackie had been wearing as pajamas the previous night. He looked up, his eyes connecting with hers. “Maybe without the shirt though. Would certainly make things easier.” At that he wagged his eyebrows, a booming laugh escaping him when she blushed.

Johnny slapped him on the shoulder, also smiling. Then he pointedly looked down the corridor and back at Jackie, raising one of his eyebrows.

“You gonna go after him dressed like that, sweetheart?” She looked at him for a moment, waiting for him to elaborate. “They'll be gone in ten minutes. Put some clothes on so you can go make nice. You don't want him leavin' on a bad note, do ya?”

She shook her head dumbly and rushed to find her jeans, putting them on as quickly as she could. Moving past the pair in the doorway, she ran down the corridor and out to the lot, spotting Dean throwing his bag in the back of a large black van. She was vaguely aware that Jagger and Johnny had followed after her and that the other guys were in the lot, but she didn't really care.

“Dean!”

His head snapped up when he heard her and she quickly crossed the lot, closing the distance between them. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him, sighing with relief when he put his arms around her, even if he had hesitated for a second. Jackie buried her head in his shoulder and placed a quick kiss there, before whispering in his ear.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have questioned you. That wasn't the time or place.” She drew back from the hug and looked up at him. “You'll be careful, right?” She needed reassurance that, even if he was going out and shooting people, he was going to be okay. “You'll come back? In one piece?”

Dean nodded his head, his eyes never straying from hers. “Yeah, Jack. I'll be fine.”

A small smile graced her lips and she rose on her tip toes, kissing him. Just in case. A few loud catcalls followed by a bunch of crude comments from the guys cut their kiss short though. Dean didn't appreciate it and he made sure the bikers knew it. He pulled away from Jackie and glared at them, successfully shutting them up. He was just about to say something when Luke came out of the clubhouse. It was time to go.

Jackie kissed him one last time, earning herself a disapproving look from Luke, and stepped away, leaving Dean to get in the passenger seat of the van. She hugged Jagger when he passed her, looking at the Lakeside sergeant with an unsure expression.

“C'mon, darlin'. Why the long face?”

“You're gonna look after him, aren't you? Make sure he gets back okay?”

Her plea caught him, as well as the other guys in earshot, off guard. She was glad that he nodded and gave her his promise, although he was finding it hard not to join in on the laughter that filled the lot.

“Enough with the sappy shit. Let's go!” Luke's sharp tone prompted Jagger to jump in the van and the group rode through the gate quickly.

Jackie started on the way back to Dean's room, the other guys still joking around and laughing at her last comment.

“Dean need someone to save his ass? Yeah, right.” Ian was the loudest, his booming laugh echoing in her ears.

“Yeah, and can you imagine Jagger keeping Dean safe? Hell, he'd only get Dean in more trouble!” Mack's voice was a close second after him.

She stopped at the door to the clubhouse, glancing one last time at where the van had been parked. She could almost see him standing there, tossing his bag of guns carefully inside. Her mind flashed back to that first night she'd met him, when she had seen him holding a knife to a man's throat. She'd never been more scared in her life, for her life. And even if she knew him now, even if she had feelings for him, she couldn't help but wonder if she shouldn't have just packed her bags and persuaded Tyler to move again. Dean had almost killed a man that night, and he might be getting ready to kill someone today.

Was it all worth it? Was he worth the danger and heartache?

Yes, she decided. He was worth it.

But the feelings she had for Dean didn't ease her mind. All sorts of gory scenes from movies went through her head, making her press her hand to her mouth and run to the bathroom. She was going to be sick.

It was turning out to be an awful morning. Not only had she fought with Dean, but Jackie had spent the next half an hour in the clubhouse bathroom, getting acquainted with the porcelain toilet bowl. She was glad that no one had come in because she looked awful.

After that dreadful experience, Jackie had gone home so she could get ready for work. Now, feeling refreshed from her shower, she pulled into the diner parking lot. There weren't many customers, seeing as the lunch rush had just ended. Only a few people sat at the tables, namely kids that had just started their summer vacation. Greeting Kate, the other waitress that was working today, she went behind the counter and put on her apron. Elaine was busy in the kitchen and Jackie was amazed at her ability to look as cheery as ever.

The bell above the door jingled and Jackie smiled, going to take the order of an elderly couple. She then went to drop it off at the kitchen, but as she approached the window, the smell of food assaulted her and she felt her stomach lurch. Shoving the paper at Elaine, she ran to the bathroom, almost trampling over Kate on her way.

Jackie was never one to have a weak stomach, so she was sure that whatever she had eaten that caused this had to have been really bad. She heard the bathroom door open, but another wave of sickness came over her before she could call out to whoever was coming in. She was sure that she was going to die.