Vipers Rule Page 9

  Tals put on music and sat with her as she sobered up. It was like coming out of a dream. As the sun rose, her sobriety—and reality—returned.

  And it hadn’t mattered, because she had Tals. He’d been chasing her for years, and he’d finally caught her, for lack of a better word. “I want to hide here forever.”

  “Yeah, me too.” Tals had pulled her close. “Whatever happens, just remember, it’s not your fault. You did nothing wrong.”

  She’d believed him. But he hadn’t done anything wrong either, and still, that very next afternoon, when the police came to question her, she’d kept her damned mouth shut . . . and in the process refused to protect Tals.

  * * *

  Now, she started when she noticed he was next to her, outside the restaurant. “Tals, I can’t—”

  He interrupted her. “Maddie, we’re not leaving like this.”

  “Tals, I can’t. This was all a mistake. Coming back here was a mistake. This date was a mistake—just please, let me go.”

  His eyes widened. “Let you go? Wait a minute—you chased me. And suddenly you’re blaming me for everything that went wrong in your life before this.”

  “Just everything that went wrong since I met you,” she corrected.

  He blinked, looking confused, incredulous . . . and like he was ready to explode.

  She got there first. “You ruined me, Tals. You chased me and I wouldn’t give in. Maybe I knew what you could do to me.”

  “What I could do to you?”

  “Stop repeating everything I say.” She pushed him—hard—but he was an immovable force. “You went around sleeping with everyone but me.”

  “So because I didn’t treat you like all the other girls, you were pissed?”

  “Yes,” she said triumphantly.

  He put his hand to his forehead. “I swear I’m having an aneurysm.”

  “Don’t you dare—not before we finish this.” She poked at him.

  “The Jessamine girls . . . they weren’t exactly suffering. I appealed to them on one level, and for one reason only. They weren’t interested in taking things further, and neither was I.”

  “I wanted to be special to you.”

  He narrowed his eyes, looking at her like she was from another planet. “Jesus Christ, you were. Did you see me going after any other girl the way I did you? Did you see me spending time with them? Picking them up? Giving them rides on my bike?”

  “You didn’t have to—the rest of them fell at your feet.”

  “Well, yeah,” he conceded. “But I was falling at your feet. You’re the one I wanted. You had to feel it.”

  “I did. Damn you. You ruined me then—you ruined me after we finally did sleep together. I couldn’t undo it. It left me comparing everyone else to you.”

  “You don’t think I’ve been doing the same goddamned thing?” he roared.

  She took a step back, stunned. Because no, absolutely not. She’d never considered that.

  He took a step toward her. “You weren’t just a conquest, Maddie. I wanted you all for me. I wanted to claim you. Make you mine. And when you came for me that first night, you told me that you could love me.”

  Her mouth opened, breath quickened. For a second she thought—hoped—he’d kiss her.

  When he didn’t, she began to rifle through her bag for her car key. “It’s been a long week for me—”

  But when she looked up, she noted that Tals was no longer staring at her, but rather, the key in her hand. His head tilted and froze for a split second, and then he grabbed her wrist—harder than she’d expected. “Give me the key.”

  She wanted to say no, but the way he held her wrist made her hand open, and revealed the key deposited in her open palm.

  Tals stared at it, turning it over. Then he looked between it and the car. Crouched down and looked.

  The street was semi-deserted. It was the middle of the week, and they were eating late. She hadn’t wanted a crowd around, and she’d gotten what she wished for. “Tals, I just want to go home. Please—”

  She moved to take the key from him, but he was faster, almost like a blur, and he was standing next to her, holding on to her biceps—not hard this time, but with enough grip that she wasn’t going anywhere. At first she thought he was really pissed that she was going to leave him behind, but no, there was something more. He looked angry, but not at her. And he also looked worried.

  “You can’t get into that car,” was all he’d said. He turned the remote key in his palm, frowning.

  “What’s wrong?”

  But he was dialing his cell phone, asking for Preacher.

  Preacher Jones, head of the Vipers MC. Not her biggest fan either, considering what had happened to his charge. She’d had contact with him only once before, when he’d stopped her from seeing Tals. He hadn’t been rough with her, but he’d definitely had some bite.

  “Yeah, Preach—need your help. Can you bring Cage? I’ll explain when you get here. Thanks.” He clicked the phone off and then looked up and down the street. “Let’s wait inside. It’s cold.”

  “It’s really not,” she said, but he ushered her in there anyway. Ordered her a glass of wine, which she basically took one sip from and just hung on to so he wouldn’t keep hovering. “Tals, can you just—”

  “I can’t. Just . . . trust me.”

  Well, she’d trusted him enough to go on this date. Actually, he’d trusted her enough to give her this chance, so she figured she’d wait until Preacher and company got there to find out what was up.

  Tals meanwhile spent time on his phone, texting. She was still shaken up enough by his mention of the past that she didn’t want to risk him bringing that up again. And, as if he knew that, he reached out at one point and rubbed her back comfortingly.

  When Preacher arrived in his big black truck and walked over to them, Tals told her, “Hang out here.”

  He didn’t move far from her, just enough so she couldn’t hear what he said to Preacher. Her belly tightened when Preacher looked over at her, looking bigger and badder than he ever had with his bald head and tattoos and black leather jacket that looked soft as butter . . . softer still against the hardness of his countenance. She couldn’t believe it when Tals said, “Maddie, Preacher here is going to give you a ride, and I’ll meet you with your car in a little bit, okay?”

  Okay? No, it certainly wasn’t okay, and she had no idea what was happening. But something stopped her from asking the question, mainly because Tals, Preacher and Cage were so quiet. Something was really wrong, and she had to trust that Tals wouldn’t do anything to put her in danger.

  “Let’s go,” Preacher told her, his voice rough. He walked next to her, helped her into his truck and then got in. He glanced in the rearview and then took off through town.

  Preacher’s going to give you a ride . . .

  “Are you dropping me off at home? The turnoff to Jessamine is right there,” she said helpfully, like he hadn’t lived in this town longer than her, but he made her nervous. He ignored her, driving right past the turnoff that went toward Jessamine. “Or not.”

  “I’ve had enough of women for the week,” he muttered.

  “I’m guessing that’s not a compliment.”

  He glanced at her wryly. “Smart-ass. It’s always the smart-asses.”

  Her mind automatically flashed to Tals, and she couldn’t disagree with Preacher’s sentiment. “Where am I going?”

  “To the Vipers clubhouse.”

  “Why?” God, that was the last place she wanted to go—more time with guys who didn’t like her.

  “Too many questions.”

  “First Tals won’t let me drive home, and now you won’t let me go home. You have to tell me what’s going on,” she demanded.

  “Will you tell me what your husband’s into?” he countered.

  “We’re separated. He’s an asshole,” she muttered, crossing her arms.

  “For a living?”

  “For the past year and a h
alf, I’ve thought so,” she mumbled, thought she saw an actual hint of a smile crack Preacher’s stoically scary demeanor. “He’s the CFO of a major fashion corporation.”

  “That’s all?”

  “He sleeps around. He’s rich. He’s used to being catered to.”

  There was silence, with strains of “Blue Sky” by the Allman Brothers coming through the speakers. She recalled Tals and Tenn strumming guitars and singing by the lake in the summers, where everyone used to hang out. There wasn’t as much of an us-versus-them divide at the lake, which—ironically—physically divided the town in two. It was a peaceful place where many generations of Skulls Creek kids hung out, drank beers and partied. It was where the good girls and the bad boys met (and true, sometimes the good boys met with the bad girls too). Tals would smile as he sang. He always seemed happy.

  She’d always pretended to be happy too, so she knew a semi-ruse when she saw one. Although his smile when it came to his brother was completely genuine—she saw that easily in his eyes.

  “Look, I don’t need to be involved in a fight between Vipers and another club,” she started.

  “Good. You’re not.”

  “Oh.”

  Finally, Preacher pulled his truck around the back of the Vipers clubhouse. Although the building looked the same as she remembered—big and sturdy—the surrounding area was now clean and well tended. There was no graffiti on the building or the fences beyond. The parking lot in the back looked new. And there were what she supposed were guards, the only outward sign that this wasn’t a normal building. That, and the knife/snake painting that loomed large along the backside of the building.

  Preacher’s parking space was closest to the door. When she went to get out, she found a heavily tattooed man in a sleeveless T-shirt and a bandanna wrapped around his head waiting there. With a glance over the hood at Preacher, then a small nod, he met her eyes and motioned for her to walk with him to the door.

  He was, for lack of better phrasing, covering her. And she hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath until the heavy door of the clubhouse closed behind her.

  That is, until she noticed she was surrounded not only by solid walls, but a solid wall of men as well, all in various stages of dress. Some had their leather jackets on, some, only the sleeveless leather vests she’d learned were called cuts. Some only wore T-shirts, looking like they’d been pulled from bed.

  She wondered how many of the men actually lived in this building. But it didn’t matter, because all of them were intimidating, at least from where she stood.

  “I can’t do this.” The words tumbled out as her arms wrapped protectively—predictably—across her chest and she stepped back. Into another Viper.

  Preacher. His hands went to her shoulders to steady her. They were heavy, and oddly a comfort when normally the threat of being held in place would’ve terrified her.

  “Guys, some of you might remember Maddie. She’s Tals’s.”

  “I’m Tals’s?” she repeated incredulously, glancing back over her shoulder at the man with the shaved head and the fierce eyes. “I’m not anyone’s.”

  There was a soft snigger, but for the most part, it was just her voice of protest echoing in the quiet room.

  Preacher’s eyes grew darker. He obviously wasn’t used to having his authority questioned, especially not by a woman, and he definitely didn’t like it, judging by the way he cleared his throat and narrowed his eyes for a moment.

  “Like I said, she’s Tals’s.” His eyes never left the group, never flicked to hers.

  The guy who’d walked her into the clubhouse caught her eyes and gave an almost imperceptible shake of the head, a “don’t contradict him” look.

  She listened, because the mood shifted dangerously. She wasn’t sure why—Preacher hadn’t said anything else, but she didn’t have time to dwell before being led down a hall, up some stairs and into a bedroom.

  “This is Tals’s,” the guy explained. “I’m Rally.”

  She nodded and looked down at the keys in his hand. “Are you locking me in here?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I was kidding,” she said miserably.

  “Bathroom’s that way. Water and soda are in the fridge. You need anything else, hit the red button on the phone. I can bring you food. Tals has movies and all the cable channels.”

  She didn’t have anything on her, not her bag or her cell phone. When the door closed and locked, as promised, she sat on the bed and looked around.

  A well-made, comfortably masculine-looking bed. Nice carpet. Walls were clean and painted a light putty color. There were wood blinds, fresh-smelling sheets. A big TV, books, stereo, computer—locked, of course—and a phone with only a red button on it.

  She wondered how many women Vipers kept in rooms like this under the guise of protection.

  * * *

  Preacher had already left with Maddie, but when he’d first arrived he’d asked, “You’re absolutely sure it’s a bomb?” Cage had already been nodding in confirmation of Tals’s immediate assessment. There was a motherfucking car bomb hardwired to Maddie’s car.

  And it hadn’t been there before dinner. Because they would never have made it to dinner if there had been.

  Now, with Maddie safe—and full of questions—Tals and Cage were left with the responsibility of the bomb. Calling the police was the best thing to do, but somehow they’d blame Vipers. Because they always did.

  “Could this be about you?” Cage asked.

  “Anything’s possible, but hell, there are easier ways to try to kill me.”

  “None of those have worked, though,” Cage offered, completely seriously.

  Granted, he was right. Tals had more lives than a cat, and he credited his instincts in helping with that. “If this car blows . . .”

  “Looks like a door trigger—or ignition,” Cage said, studying the light on the remote. There was no valet service, and no one had touched her key, but when the car was wired, the red infrared button tended to remain lit. Most people wouldn’t notice it. Tals and Cage would. “Evac?”

  “Again, lots of questions,” Tals countered. “If we could defuse it . . .”

  Cage sighed. They’d both done time on bomb-squad duty in the Army, but they’d been out a while. And this shit was sophisticated. “You’re calling Tenn.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, dialing Tenn’s number and simultaneously dreading this conversation.

  “I’m not calling him,” was Tenn’s immediate response after Tals explained the situation.

  “It’s a car bomb in Maddie’s car.”

  There was dead silence and then Tenn growled, “Maddie? As in Maddie Wells?”

  Tals looked at Cage, who raised his eyes to the heavens, like he was praying. For something. “There’s a bomb and I’m standing right next to it.”

  “Fuck. Hang on,” Tenn said quickly.

  And that cut off any further Maddie discussion. For the moment. Tals knew his brother wouldn’t refuse, and truthfully, he hated having to force the interaction between Tenn and the fucker who’d broken his heart.

  Soon he had two men on the line—Tenn and Ward. He listened to Ward tell him what to look for—and confirm Tals’s fear that it was set to blow with the opening of the driver’s door.

  “I’d blow it.”

  “’Course you would,” Tenn muttered.

  Not the time to be in the middle of this. “Public space. Too many questions.”

  “Can you fake her death?” Ward asked.

  “You guys spend way too much time being secretive,” Tals muttered. “Not faking it. I need to disarm it to let the fuckers who planted it know they can’t get away with this shit.”

  “Any idea who that is?” Tenn asked.

  “Thinking it’s something to do with Maddie’s ex—Hugh Montgomery,” Tals said.

  After a few seconds of silence, during which Tals heard him typing, Ward let out a low whistle. “Intel’s saying he’s currently being investig
ated. Word on the street is that he’s in deep with the Albanian mob—one of the family branches that deals with drug trafficking. Is the wife involved?”

  Tals glanced at Cage. “She’s almost his ex-wife. She’s moved back here to get away from him. I have no idea if she knows any of this, but my guess is absolutely not.”

  But it made sense to make Maddie the target—these mob guys were smart. Ward put words to it, saying, “Montgomery either wants her dead or he still loves her. And these guys know enough to leverage that.”

  “Either option sucks,” Tenn said. And the silence meant that Ward agreed.

  So did Tals.

  Cage was silent. Finally, he said, “If you hadn’t agreed to go out with her tonight . . .”

  He didn’t have to finish. If they’d targeted Maddie tonight and Tals hadn’t shown . . .

  Tals shook his head. “But I was. We’ll deal with the other shit later. Can you defuse this?”

  “Of course,” Ward scoffed. “It’s gonna take some time though.”

  Tals sighed. “It always does.”

  * * *

  A little while later, just as Maddie had finally stopped restlessly pacing and actually tried to settle in on Tals’s bed, since there was really no place else to sit other than a chair that was covered in clean laundry, she heard a knock on the door.

  She got up, listened, then called, “It’s not like I can open the door.”

  The lock opened and a really big guy stood there—she hadn’t seen him earlier. He was holding a beer, which he handed to her. She took it promptly.

  “You know there’s beer in Tals’s fridge,” he said.

  “If you know that, why bring me one?”

  “Figured you were probably too pissed to take one.”

  She smirked, mainly because he was right. Now she was past the point of caring.

  “I’m Bear.”

  “Maddie. But I guess you knew that, being I’m the one locked up. Although it’s probably safer for me in here, since most of them can’t stand me,” she muttered.

  “What the hell did you do to them?” Bear asked. When she turned around, he was leaning comfortably against the doorframe, and his question wasn’t demanding, but rather genuinely curious. “I mean, I can just go ask Preach and shit, but I figured, you’re standing right here.”