Twisted Asphalt (Asphalt Outlaw Series Book 1) (17 page)

Sitting down next to Maggie, she brushed her friend’s hair
out of her face. “Maggie? Are you going to be okay?” She knew it was a dumb
question, but Thorne was all Maggie had left. Their parents were dead; they
only had each other and the club.

“I don’t know. The doctor said she’s pretty cut up and they
have her face and neck completely bandaged. Saber saved her life.”

Amy nodded, lifting both hands to wipe her friend’s tears
away. “He did the best he could, Maggie. She’s going to be fine. I’m sure it’s
not anything plastic surgery can’t fix, if she wants to.”

“She’s unconscious, but they said I can stay in her room
with her, so I’m going to stay until she wakes up.”

Amy nodded and drew in a deep breath, followed by a long
exhale. “I’ll go grab you a change of clothes and bring them to you. Dalton
will be staying here, in case you need anything, okay? I’ll only be about an
hour tops.” She kissed the top of Maggie’s head, then rose to find Dalton.
Seeing him with the guys, she walked over to them.

The group grew quiet when she neared, stopping in front of
the prospect. “Under no circumstances are you to tell Maggie that Demon was
involved in this. Understood?” When the prospect nodded, she gave him a thin
lipped smile. “If I find out you have, you better turn your cut in and
disappear, because my wrath is worse than anything any of these men could dream
of doing to you.”

CHAPTER 22

Too. Damn. Loud.

Mace couldn’t quiet the voices in his head.

They were so damn loud, he barely heard the rumble of the
engine or the whistle of the wind. Rolling into the throttle, he urged the
Harley faster, praying the speed would drown out the murmuring of his
conscience trying to tell him he was fucked, and not in a good way. He hadn’t
wanted to break out his dad’s old Sportster, but it was worth it in the end.
Romeo worked on his bike while Mace ran errands getting parts.

He got them, but had another errand to run. In four days,
his world was going to be destroyed. Well, Mace’s, and part of Sam’s too. They
had the same heart after all, and it would be shattered when he closed the door
to this life. The run to Lompoc loomed over him like a black cloud. Pulling
into the warehouse, Jones rolled the door closed behind him. Turning off the
engine, Mace wrenched his helmet off, setting it on the throttle handle before
he climbed off. He nodded to Jones. “Sir.”

“I’ve heard major shit has been going down with the club.
What’s going on?” Jones crossed his arms over his chest, brows rising in
expectancy.

“Got anything to drink in this shithole?” Mace growled, both
hands dragging through his hair as he began to pace.

“Do we need to pull you out now?” Jones asked, concern
filtering through his tone.

“Fuck no,” Mace spun around to face Jones. “You pull me now,
and you’ve wasted nearly three years of investigation and fucking blood. Are
you smoking crack?”

Jones blanched at the verbal attack, straightening his
shoulders as he stepped toward Mace. “Do we have a problem, Agent Dean?”

Mace expelled a rather large breath. He had to get his shit
together. Yelling at his superior was not the smartest move he’d ever made. He
had never been this conflicted before. It was slowly driving him insane. It’s
no wonder very few people could handle being this deep undercover. He had lost
the end goal. It was as if the road forked and he said fuck it, and plowed
right down the middle.

“I’m just really stressed.” He wandered over to the
makeshift kitchenette the agents had set up, grabbed a cup and poured himself a
helping of the liquid elixir. Taking a drink of the stout mud, he shuddered at
the strength of the coffee. “A ton of shit has happened in the last week. I
believe Angel Hernandez is the traitor in the club. After we fought, he trashed
my bike and defected to the TGMC, then he attacked Saber and his partner, who
now fights for her life. He wants Stone dead.”

“Do you have any idea who runs the Temer Gallo now?” Jones
moved over to the card table in the corner of the small kitchen area. “Miguel
Velasquez.”

Mace winced at the name. Miguel was also known as
Muerte
,
or Death. The man was a living beast and made no qualms about it. In and out of
prison his whole life, the six foot, one-hundred-ninety pound male was a force
to be reckoned with. A walking illustrated man, the only things not tattooed,
were his face and bald head. Most people who were lucky enough to live after
meeting him, always said he could see all the way through your being with his
soulless, black eyes. One was always guilty until proven innocent with him,
Muerte
was a shoot first, ask questions later, sort of man.

“Holy shit. No wonder Demon went to him. He won’t take
prisoners, he’ll kill them.” Mace shook his head, eyes dropping to the cup in
his hands. “The run is in four days. There’s a meeting tomorrow with the club,
we’re going over specifics for the run. Times, locations, the whole deal. I can
let you know more then.”

“You need to watch your back with Hernandez. Does he know
where the run is?” Jones extended his legs out from the chair, then looked up
at Mace.

“He might. Stone might change it up. You never know with
him. If he knows, we’re going to be fucked. Without lube or the courtesy of a
reach around.”

“Stay on top of it all, Sam. Let me know if you need
anything and stay in touch. I don’t feel like losing one of my best agents.”

Mace could only offer a strained smile. “I appreciate that,
Shane.” He only used Jones’ first name in private, always respecting him
otherwise. “I will. I’ll call tomorrow after the meeting and let you know what
the hell is going on. Shit might have changed since Saber was hurt, but I doubt
it.”

Pushing off the counter, he dumped his coffee out and rinsed
the cup, dried his hands and turned to face Jones. Mace reached out and shook
his hand. “Thanks for everything, Shane.” Letting go, he walked over to his
bike, climbed on and scooped up his helmet.

“Watch your back, Sam. I don’t like this whole thing.
Something doesn’t smell right.” Jones rose up, shoving his hands in his
pockets.

Mace nodded as he strapped on the helmet. “I always do.”

* * * *

It took iron cowboy meditation to clear his mind. Mace drove
out Highway 166 to Nipomo, looped around and rode back, allowing the sound of
the motor and blacktop to sooth his troubled mind. The swish…swish…swish of the
white lines on asphalt was like a metronome, mesmerizing and calming. It
allowed him to sort out the mish-mash thoughts that refused to come together
and be coherent. He hadn’t lost himself. Sam was there, right beside Mace. The
fact they shared the same heart didn’t mean they cohabited the same thoughts.
Mace was cold and calculating, always thinking before he leapt. Sam tended to
jump in with both feet before he thought about what he did. Sam was in love
with Amethyst James. Heart, body and soul. Mace was just the name disguising
Sam from her. Sam was still going to have to do his job, but his job was to
take down the threat of the Six-Gun Outlaw MC.

 That threat was Demon.

Yes, Stone and Romeo and whoever else was involved, were
going to spend time in jail. Amy was going to hate him for doing it, but in the
end, he was saving her life. Whether she liked it or not, he had a job to do,
and upholding what he was sworn to protect came first. Pulling up to the shop,
he parked and climbed off the bike, and made his way to the garage with the bag
of parts. Seeing Romeo sitting on a rolling mechanics seat in front of his
bike, he veered toward him. “Sorry it took so long. I had to get my head
straight.”

Romeo looked up, grease on his face and on his bald head.
Grabbing a red rag, he wiped his hands and took the bag. “No problem, man. Shit
happens. Sometimes it takes a long ride to clear it.”

“Well, with the shit going on these past couple of days…”
Mace let his sentence hang.

“I don’t blame you. I’d bone out if I could. But this bike
ain’t gonna get done by itself.” Romeo grinned, turning to wander over to the
beer fridge. Pulling it open, he grabbed two beers, tossed one to Mace.

Mace caught it, cracking it open, and tossed the cap into
the trash. “How’s Thorne?”

“Saber called earlier and said she woke up and is in a lot
of pain. She can’t remember much though.” Romeo sighed and shook his head. “We
got told there is an APB out on Demon. Arrest warrant for attempted murder. He’s
hit the mattresses though.”

“You know he has. He’d be dumb not to.” Mace grabbed another
rolling seat and lowered himself onto it. “I got some intel myself. Guess who
took over the Temer Gallo.”

Romeo quirked his left brow, a quizzical look given. “Last I
heard Lobo was running it.”

Mace took a swig off the bottle. “Nope.
Muerte
.”

Romeo froze, then slowly turned to look at Mace. “You’re
shitting me.”

“No, he’s what’s fueling Demon. Filling his head full of
shit. More than likely, he killed Lobo and took over.”

“Stone know yet?”

“Nah, you’re the first I’ve told. I figured we could tell
him at the meeting.”

Romeo chugged down half of the bottle, wiping his mouth with
the back of his hand. “Good idea. By the way,” Romeo set his bottle to the
bench and leaned back against it. “Your story checked out. Sorry I doubted your
explanation, but it just seemed fishy. I’m sorry about what happened to your
brother.”

“I appreciate that, man. I’m not worried about it, I’m sure
your balls have forgiven me by now.” Mace chuckled, finished off his beer and
threw the bottle into the can. “I would have done the same thing.”

“I know.”

Mace tilted his head, eyes narrowed as he looked at Romeo.
“How is Amy taking all of this? I haven’t seen her since the accident and she
was avoiding me because of the fight.”

“She’s sulking. Amy doesn’t like to admit it, but she’s got
just as much club in her blood as me and Dad. We were raised in the business,
and she was scared for you. She’ll deny it and act all pissed, but Demon scares
the shit out of her.”

“He should, especially after what he did.”

Mace hadn’t meant to let it slip, but it came out anyway.

“Pardon? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Mace winced and sucked on his teeth for a moment. “Look, if
Amy found out that I said anything, it’ll be my ass.”

“You have my word.”

Mace highly doubted that. “I’m not sure exactly what
happened, so don’t quote me on it.”

“Just spit it out already.”

“I think Demon tried to rape her.”

Before Mace could get out another word, Romeo roared to
life. “That fucker’s dead.”

“Calm the fuck down, brother. Now.” Mace hated to order
Romeo like that, but it was needed in this situation, especially when the
prospect stuck his head out of the office. “I’m not sure what happened. Amy
won’t talk about it. I walked in on the aftermath. Demon was sliced open and
the kitchen looked like World War III. She was locked in her room and wouldn’t
come out. I got Demon out of there, threatened his life and cleaned up the
mess. I slept in front of her door, on the floor.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone? We would have kicked his ass
out, probably beat the shit out of him.”

Mace half scoffed, half laughed. “I was a prospect, Romeo.
Would anyone have believed me? Demon hated my ass and still does. He would have
tried to turn it around.”

“Amy would have never let it happen.”

“She swept it under the carpet like any rape victim would.”
Mace looked directly at Romeo. “She still can’t confront him or be around him
without shaking.”

“I wish we had known. That doesn’t change the fact. But, I
understand why you didn’t tell—wait a minute. Was that when Little Joe hit her
face?”

“Yeah, it was then.”

Romeo scratched the back of his barren head with a small
chuckle. “Damn good cover story there, Mace. She was jumpy after that, too. All
the signs were there, and we were too damn busy to notice.”

“Don’t blame yourself, Romeo. I respected her wishes, and
kept a promise not to tell anyone. If it got out of control, I would have come
to you and Stone.”

“I trust you would have.”

Mace drew in a breath and stood up. “I guess I need to go
have a talk with Stone. I’m sure he knows about Amy and me, but I’d hate to
have him hear it from someone else.”

“Be sure to wear protection, I’d hate to be in your shoes
for that conversation.”

“I’ve got a Kevlar vest I’ll wear.”

“Fuck that, wear a helmet or a cup. He’ll aim for the head
or the dick. Take your pick.”

CHAPTER 23

Mace made his way home, showered and sat in his room, trying
to figure out how he was going to handle this situation. He made an important
phone call, got everything set up the way he needed to, made his way out to the
kitchen and fixed himself a snack and a drink.

Amy texted him to let him know that she was stopping to see
Thorne and check on Maggie who was barely leaving her sister’s side. Not that
he could blame her. If it was Elliot, he’d have been right beside him the whole
time.

Coffee perked, sandwich material on the table, chip bag
opened, it was time to feast. Pouring himself a cup of java, he turned around
as Stone wandered in. Mace grabbed an extra cup, pouring Stone some coffee as
well. Setting both mugs down on the kitchen table, he pulled out a chair and
sat down.

“Want a sandwich?” He pointed to the fixings on the table
and the paper plates next to it. “I make a mean club.”

Stone lifted a corner of his mouth up in a lazy smile,
giving a small nod. “May as well.”

Mace leaned back and opened the fridge. Tipping his chair
back more, he barely grabbed the mayo before the chair nearly slipped out from
under him. Slamming his chair forward, he laughed as he set the dressing to the
table. “Well that would have ended bad.”

“Ya think?” Stone joined in laughing with Mace. “So, Romeo
called me.”

Now wasn’t this nice dinner conversation?

No.

Appetite ruined, Mace was going to have to force himself to
eat. It was bad enough he was dealing with emotional baggage he was trying to
get rid of, but now Stone wanted to add to it? Just. Fucking. Great.

“Oh? What about?” Mace pulled out the bread and set it to a
plate.

“
Muerte
being the leader of the TGMC.” Stone picked
up the mug, setting his elbows on the table and relaxing. “That could pose a
rather big problem for the MC.”

“I’ve heard he’s a force to be reckoned with. No conscience
about anything.”

Stone nodded, taking a long drink of the coffee. “You got that
right. See, Lobo was the president when I had my run-in with the club. He
wasn’t one to attack women or kids. He declared war on an MC once for killing
one of the women.” Stone slowly shook his head. “Not the case with
Muerte
.
Whatever is in his way, he’ll mow it down. Personally, I’ve never seen him
attack innocents, which is why I’m taken aback by what Demon did.”

Mace slathered two sides of bread with mayo, refusing to
look at Stone. This conversation was going to go south. There was no way around
it. It was one of those had to be faced head on, consequences be damned. Laying
down some lettuce, two slices of tomatoes, he opened up the fresh cut meat.

“I’m not.” Now that that was out there, he set a handful of
shaved pastrami on top of the tomatoes.

“Why?”

Mace glanced up at Stone, then back to the meat. “Demon
acted alone. I’m willing to bet this was an unsanctioned act and that
Muerte
had no idea it was going to happen.”

“What are you getting at?”

Mace laid down roast beef and turkey, followed by pepper-jack
cheese, then topped it all off with the other piece of bread. Cutting the
sandwich, he pushed it over to Stone. “Demon has always wanted your position,
Stone. You knew that when he tattooed Amy’s name on him and when I took him
from her. He has to get it some other way. So why not make you look bad? Why
not attack the club as a whole with another MC as a backing?”

He repeated the process of making himself a sandwich, never
looking at Stone as he continued on his theory. “My bet is, Saber and Thorne weren’t
supposed to live. They were meant to die in that wreck, but once again, shit
happened. This isn’t going to get any easier. He’s probably already gone to
Muerte
and filled his head with of some random off the wall, poor-is-me bullshit to
get sympathy.”

“What exactly do you mean by you took Amy from him?”

Of course that would be all the old man heard out of that
whole theory. Mace looked up after cutting his own sandwich, making sure the
knife was away from Stone, even if he was carrying a gun. May as well just face
it straight on. “We’re seeing each other. She made it very clear the night of
my patch in when Tasha was given to me.” Mace raised his hands, making
quotation motions with his fingers when he said ‘given.’ “Demon had a little
hand in that shindig. He’s been pissed off ever since. He was watching her like
a hawk and giving her looks that screamed abusive and possessive. I’ve been
trying to keep her by my side since, frankly, I don’t trust the son of a bitch
and I think he’s going to pull the one liner ‘If I can’t have her, no one can.’
”

Stone stared at Mace like he had prophesized the second
coming of Jesus. “Amy told me there was a possibility that you two might end up
dating. I never thought it would happen.” Pushing away from the table, he
stared at Mace with a flat expression, his eyes hooded and unreadable. “We both
know she’s going to get hurt, Mace. In the end, she’ll end up hurt, one way or
another.”

“You can’t read the future any better than I can, Stone. I
don’t mean to be rude, but I’m thirty, she’s twenty-five. We’re both consenting
adults, like it or not. She respected you and the colors and told you what
might happen. I’m telling you I’m in love with your daughter and I don’t want
to see her hurt, or worse, by that bastard.”

It wasn’t exactly supposed to come out that way, but the
brain to mouth filter seemed to have run out of give-a-fucks. And it looked
like Mace just slapped the shit out of Stone by the look on his face.

“You’re in love with her?”

Mace clenched his jaw and half sighed, half growled. “Yeah,
I am. I didn’t exactly want it to come out that way, but it did, so oh well.”
Reaching for the bag of chips, he yanked the bag open and dumped some out on
his plate. Setting it back to the table, he popped one into his mouth. “I know
I’m not perfect, far from it, but I’m not into playing property swap or getting
any strange. I’m not interested in accepting any other gifts either. I prefer
keeping my balls where they are.”

Stone laughed as he dug into the bag and grabbed a handful
of chips to set to his plate. “She would definitely cut them off and wear them
as a necklace to prove a point. Her mother taught her well.” He looked up,
setting the ruthless gaze on him. “I’m not perfect either, Mace. But never
forget. You are only a man. Shit happens, and if it does, fucking come clean.
Don’t lie about it.”

The insight into Stone’s private life was unexpected, and
not really wanted. Amy wasn’t aware of it, but Stone had come clean with his
wife, and they had survived. That gave him a small glimmer of hope for the
coming days

“I bought Amy a champion AQHA stallion today. He’s going to
be delivered in eight days. I wanted you to know.”

Stone looked up in surprise, “Why? Mace, that was too much.”

“Because I do love her, and she’s not a rose’s kind of girl.
She gave me Envidio and I wanted to return the show of affection. He’s a
breeder and I know she wants to get into the world of breeding.”

Stone chuckled and shook his head. “She’s going to kill
you.”

“I have no doubt about that.” Mace grinned and turned his
attention back to his meal. He smiled to himself, amazed that Stone was taking
it all in stride; or at least that was the emotion he was allowing Mace to
think he was showing. If he was given the information he dished out to Stone,
he’d be a raging psychopath wanting heads to roll.

Guess that was why Stone was Stone, cold and calculating.

* * * *

Amy nodded to Dalton as she stepped past him to get into
Thorne’s room, but stopped just beside him. Looking down at the younger carbon
copy of Saber, Amy canted her head to the left. “Are you doing okay?”

Dalton’s stoic face became rather animated with confusion as
he glanced to his right, then left, then back to the right, eyes dropping to
Amy. “Me? Yeah, I’m good, why?”

She laughed under her breath and leaned against the
doorjamb, peeking in on Maggie and Thorne. Thorne sat at a low angle in bed,
her face and throat wrapped up, much like a mummy, with just her eyes visible.
Maggie sat in a chair, passed out with her head on the edge of the bed.

Amy shook her head and looked back to Dalton. “Want some
coffee or water? Soda? Anything to eat? I know they’ve been working you to
death keeping you here. If you need to go take a leak, I can stand here for
you.”

“No, I’m good. Thank you though.”

She patted his arm as she pushed off the jamb. “You’re nicer
than Saber, what gives?”

Dalton grinned and lifted a single shoulder. “Don’t got to
be a dick to get your point across. I’m just as mean as him, I just have a
nicer way of saying fuck you.”

Amy snickered and gave him a thumbs up. “I like you, Dalton.
I think you’ll make a great addition.” Stepping into the room, she pulled the
door shut, the near silent click sounding like a gunshot in the quiet room.

Maggie’s head jerked up, her brown eyes wide in surprise,
hand lifting to wipe the trail of drool from her mouth. “Hey.” Her voice was
low, glancing to the still form on the bed.

“You don’t have to whisper. I’m awake.” Thorne muttered, her
drug hazed eyes opening.

Amy was always amazed by the color of Thorne’s eyes. They
were the lightest color of brown she had ever seen. They reminded her of
crystal clear amber that had the tiniest flecks of onyx in them, surrounded by
the longest, thickest set of lashes she only wished she possessed.

“Yay, you’re awake. I snuck in your favorite donut holes.”
Amy bounced her brows, setting the bag on the rolling table in front of Thorne.
“Straight up cake, no glaze.”

Thorne groaned as she looked at the bag. “Are you trying to
load me up on carbs and sugars so I can be fat on top of ugly?”

Maggie glared at Thorne. “I know I didn’t just hear you
correctly. Don’t make me beat your ass while you’re an invalid.”

Amy frowned and sighed, yanking the bag off of the table.
“Fine, I’ll load up on this delicious bundle of sugary goodness and you can
both kiss my ass.”

Maggie had told her Thorne was taking her injuries pretty
bad, but Amy had no idea it was this bad. She had told her when the doctor came
in to change the bandages, Thorne begged for a mirror. The doctor refused,
until Thorne nearly broke his arm. She broke the mirror instead. She had a
jagged scar from her forehead, down the left side of her face, splitting her
left eyebrow, down her cheek, to her jawline. To top it off, she also had a
scar along the base of her throat.

She wasn’t handling the disfigurement at all.

Amy couldn’t really blame her. She would probably act the
same way. Thorne had a body to die for and a face to match it, and now her
world was ruined, so why ruin her body and get fat while she was recovering?

“When are they going to let you go home?” Amy dug into the
bag, plucking out a smooshed donut hole.

“When are you going to get rid of the guard dog at my door?”

Amy jerked her head back, taken by surprised at the venomous
tone in Thorne’s reply. “Wow, grumpy much? Dalton is here because someone
attacked you and Saber, Thorne. This isn’t punishment, it’s for your
protection.”

Wild whiskey eyes flashed at Amy. “Protection? If it wasn’t
for this stupid motorcycle bullshit, I wouldn’t need any protection. I love
Saber, but because of him, I was thrown into your fucking drama. I didn’t ask
for this. I can never model again!”

Amy and Maggie both winced at the outburst. She had forgot
Thorne had done some cover modeling on the side, her dream was to be featured in
Sports Illustrated
as a swimsuit model. She even wanted to be on the
cover of
Playboy
at one time. All of that was now gone.

“Just. Get. Out!” Thorne screamed at Amy and Maggie, jerking
her hand up and pointing at the door. “Leave!”

Neither girl argued.

Once outside, they moved over to the couch to sit, opposite
of Dalton, who had found a chair and a book to read.

“I’m sorry, Ames.” Maggie apologized. “I didn’t realize just
how bad it was.”

“It’s expected, Maggie. I can’t imagine what she’s going
through. It must be hell,” Amy shook her head. “I would probably be doing the
same thing.”

“Amy?” Maggie took ahold of her hand, squeezing it tight.
“Promise me something?”

Amy returned the squeeze, brows bunching together, unsure if
she was going to like where this was about to head. “Depends on what I’m
promising.”

She glanced to the side, looking to Dalton, then back to
Amy. She leaned forward toward her, her voice low enough where only Amy could
hear it. “If anything ever happens to me, promise you’ll take care of Thorne.”