Sinfully Scarred (Reckless Bastards MC 2)

Well shit. I hadn’t thought of it like that. “Eyes up.” I didn’t have time to worry about it now that we closed in on our destination. I didn’t fucking trust Lazarus as far as I could throw his little Mexican ass, and if he wanted to try some shit, we would be ready. Lazarus and four of his men leaned against a black SUV, smoking and laughing when we pulled up in front of the meeting spot. It was near a crowded market which made it difficult to watch our backs, but the objective here was simple. Keep an eye on Roddick and Lazarus.

We stepped from the truck, and the man’s face lit up. “Gentlemen, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

Before we could say a word, Roddick rode up on his bike and dismounted, slowly ambling to where we stood with Lazarus just inches from us. “Lazarus. We got some news you might want to hear, amigo.”

“I’m listening,” he said in that deep heavily accented voice that was just a touch girly.

“Word on the street is that your new transport is selling your shit on the side.”

“Not possible,” Lazarus laughed and rolled his eyes. Lazarus stood tall and brushed his way too long hair from his eyes, but the lines around his eyes were tight.

“Tell that to the Black Bastards and Grim Reapers. Hell, you can even ask the Dragons.” He named a few of the other clubs in the area, and I saw the lines around Lazarus’ mouth tighten.

His eyes flared at the last name because they’d gone to war two years ago with the Dragons over the synthetic drugs the Chinese were selling. The war killed Lazarus’ young brother, Julio. “The fuck you say?”

“You heard me,” Roddick told him. “You did me a solid recently, so I’m returning the favor. That’s all.” He walked away and hopped on his bike.

“Gracias,” he called out, laughing when Roddick only waved in return.

Mick and I jumped back in the truck and followed Rod, along with the other guys we had nearby, back to Brently. We didn’t even have time to get comfortable before I spotted it. “Burning rubber, two o’clock,” I said, and Mick went on alert as I knew he would. In the desert, the enemies always staged a distraction right before an attack.

Mick groaned and flashed his lights up ahead to signal the rest of them that trouble was brewing. “Fucking fuck!” He smacked the steering wheel when Roddick fell off his bike a quarter mile up the road. “Shit!”

We caught up to them quickly, all the guys surrounding Roddick to protect him from the bullets flying across the highway. I jumped out and went around to the driver’s side with my gun in hand, opening fire and shielding the guys so they could get Roddick to the truck without being hit. I heard an anguished grunt and knew one of them had been hit. I emptied my clip just to be sure then hopped in the back with Roddick while Mick raced back to the clubhouse.

The truck came to a screeching halt outside the clubhouse, and we carried Roddick inside. We had a medical room in the back and put him on the bed, cutting off his jeans and getting him some water. We all knew the fucking drill, but it didn’t mean we weren’t worried about our Prez. “Go get Cherie,” I yelled. She was a nurse and Baz’s older sister which meant she knew how to be discreet. We paid for discreet.

“She’s on her way already,” Baz said as he rushed in with towels, an IV drip, and Jack Daniels. “How you holdin’ up, Prez?”

“Just fucking great, Baz,” he said, smiling around a grimace. “Don’t I look it?”

“Pretty as ever, bro. Just a tad bloody for my taste,” he said as blood soaked through Roddick’s shirt.

Roddick laughed and pulled the cap off the bottle of Jack. “Ah, thanks.” He offered a smile and smacked his lips, chugging back a heavy swig. “Bullet went out, so I’ll be good,” he said after Jack started to work his legendary magic.

“All right, Roddick, what have you got for me?” Cherie rushed in all soft blonde curls and no nonsense attitude.

“You finally get a peek at these sexy legs,” he joked, making her do the impossible. Smile.

“Easier ways to show off, you know?” She had her gloves on and bent low to examine the wound.

“We’re going back for your bike, Rod. You’re in good hands,” Mick told him with an amused smile.

“Be careful,” he told us, but his gaze stayed on me. “Get my bike and then go deal with your shit because you know what this means.”

I knew what he was saying, and I nodded before I spoke the word we were all thinking but no one had said. “War.”

Chapter Seven

Minx

I spent a week walking along the beach from early in the morning until late at night, and it hadn’t been nearly enough. I rented a surfboard and just sat in the water letting the waves toss me around while I tried to sort my shit out. I needed more time because my head was nowhere near clear, and the nightmares were back. But I had a life to get back to, or more accurately, I had a house and a small business that I couldn’t abandon if I wanted to keep food in my belly and gas in my car.

I rolled back into Brently in the early afternoon and kept my promise to stop at Talon’s first thing. “Hey,” I said when she pulled open the door with a wide-eyed smile.

“Minx! I’m so glad to see you.” She yanked me inside and wrapped me as close as her belly would allow in a choking hug. “I was so worried about you.”

“You don’t need to worry. I’m always fine.”