Deliciously Damaged (Reckless Bastards MC 3)

He was right about that. I looked around the Church table, with one empty seat for our missing brother Gunnar, at the other members of the club who wore looks that ranged from pissed and ready to fight, to worried we might be in for some major conflict. Not that the Reckless Bastards ever backed down from a fucking fight, but with grass and ass legal, there was no reason to ever get caught up with the fucking law. “It had to be done by another MC. The burns were too clean and efficient, definitely not some shit a tweaker could do.”

Cross nodded. He was confident in my assessment because fire, bombs, guns – it was all in my wheelhouse. I was an explosives expert in the military, Sergeant at Arms for the club and I liked to fuck shit up. “The lines were clean to make sure not one crop remained so I’m inclined to agree. We need to find out who, though.”

His gaze scanned each member sitting around the table, letting them know this was serious shit. “We need to up security at our dispensaries, which means security defaults to the brothers who can legally carry. Those of you who can’t, go talk to our other suppliers and see if they need security help. We take in too much cash to lose this income.”

“Roadkill MC just opened a dispensary, so we should start with them,” I offered, knowing those fuckers had no fucking limits.

Jag pounded his fist on the table and kicked his chair back to stand up. “I’ll dig into their digital shit, see what pops up.”

Jag, despite his quiet demeanor, was a badass motherfucker. He could kill a man at a thousand yards or dismantle his life with nothing more than an internet connection.

“Good,” Cross said and pounded on the table. “Church over.” Most of the brothers made a quick exit but Cross eyed me in that way that said he wanted to talk. Dammit.

“What’s up?”

“Was that Mandy I saw in here the other day?”

I blinked. How in the hell had he recognized her? “Yeah it was.” I knew he expected me to say more but what the fuck else was there to say?

He glared. “Ammo might be dead but he’s still our brother, which makes her family. We are all she has, Savior. Don’t fuck with her if you don’t mean it.”

I laughed. “Yeah, well I already told her that and she told me with Ammo gone we could fucking forget about her. Besides,” I grinned, trying to lighten the mood as I patted my chest. “I always mean it at the time.” Which was a dick thing to say, especially given the way shit went down with Mandy.

If the dark scowl he wore was anything to go by, Cross wasn’t amused. He raked a hand through unruly brown hair and blew out a breath. “Just don’t fuck her, okay?” My face must have given something away because he groaned and smacked the table. Hard. “Seriously? How long has she even been in town?”

“It was at the funeral. I didn’t know she was Mandy when it happened. I didn’t handle it well, which probably has something to do with why she wants fuck all to do with me. Or the club.”

Not that I blamed her. I was a prick and she should steer clear of me. Mandy was a girl meant for picket fences and two point five kids, all that regular shit. I wasn’t that guy and never would be.

Cross’s eyes darkened damn near to black. “That’s too bad, Savior. She is under our protection whether she wants it or not. Whether she asks for it or not. Always.”

He was right. That’s how we rolled. Except for expelled brothers, Reckless Bastards protected their own. I nodded at my Prez to let him know I heard him loud and clear. “I’ll make it right.” Or I would try. Mandy was different now, hard with sharp edges. Distant. Except for those few hours in bed, she didn’t reveal much emotion or any other clues to her feelings. Even angry, she was as blank as stone.

“See that you do,” he said and left Church.

I followed him a few minutes later, making sure the door was locked tight. Church was our sacred club space where we discussed business on all sides of the law. The room couldn’t be hacked, bugged or breached in anyway. Even the door was reinforced because we protected our shit.

I needed to clear my head though, so I took long strides through the clubhouse, ignoring two of the Reckless Bitches eager to get my attention. The best way to clear my head was to fuck some shit up, so I crossed the parking lot and headed for the gun range where I found Max grumbling about wedding shit. He and Jana, his ball and chain, had a double header coming up. They had a bun in the oven and were getting hitched soon. “Hey man, quit your bitching. I need the biggest gun we have to shoot some shit up!”

Max looked up with a wide grin. “Fuck yeah!” He got down a few of the ones we kept for times just like this. Max and I laughed like kids, whooping it up as we wrecked the paper targets and turned our attention to the outdoor targets fixed on hay bales. “Good idea, man. This wedding shit is stressing me out.”

“Yeah, life is stressing me out,” I grunted and squeezed the trigger before he could ask any damn questions about it. So we shot and then shot some more, going through a few boxes of ammo before we tired ourselves out.

When we were done Max found his opening. “Want to talk about it?”

I looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “Fuck no! Hell, I don’t know. I don’t wanna talk about this shit.”

He barked out a loud laugh. “Spoken like a man with no woman to pull hi

s feelings out of him, whether he wants to talk about it or not.”

Shaking his head, Max looked like a man who loved every minute of talking about his feelings with his curvy little bride to be. “So, who’s the girl?”

I let out a loud grunt as I took apart the rifle and cleaned it. “Doesn’t matter. I was an asshole after we had sex and she’s pissed. Wants nothing at all to do with me.”

The bastard clapped me on the back. “You mean that famous Savior charm can’t make her forget?”

“Shit, she might try to filet my nuts if I even try,” I sighed and put the gun away. “But she’s Ammo’s sister so I have to at least apologize or deal with fucking Cross.”