Hold Me Down (The Deacons of Bourbon Street #3) Page 14

  And now his anger was back too. How could she be so naïve? As if Ajax would take Blade’s word at face value. Christ, people lied all the time. “He could tell you anything and you’d believe him. We need actual goddamn proof.”

  Temper flashed in her gaze, a burn of bright blue. “This is my club you’re talking about. My president. And you’re asking me to betray them.”

  “It’s not a betrayal if they’re innocent. And they’re not your fucking club anyway.”

  “Oh sure. It’s not my club. I’ve got the Deacons, after all. The Deacons, who happen to think I’m a traitor.” Pain edged her voice and when she twisted out of his arms all of a sudden, he let her.

  She took a few steps away from him, putting distance between them, and though he wanted to close it, he stopped himself. Because she was radiating hurt and he didn’t know what to do.

  You do realize what she’s got to lose?

  Oh yeah, he knew. If this blew up in their faces, Alice would lose not only her home, but the family who’d taken her in, that she’d claimed for herself. The only family she’d ever be able to have.

  Unexpected pain twisted inside him. “You have me,” he said roughly, making sure she knew. “I’m your old man, baby. I’m your family.”

  “Do I, Blue?” She stared at him, her arms wrapped around herself like she was cold, and suddenly it felt as if there was an ocean between them. “Do I really? Don’t you think I’m a traitor too?”

  A thread of unease wound through him. “Of course I don’t fucking think that.”

  “Yeah, you do. You’re in my face all the time, demanding that I come to The Priory every night. Be in your bed all the time. It’s like you don’t trust me.”

  He shoved his hands into his pockets, the unease starting to tip over into his ever-present anger. “I demand it because that’s what an old lady is supposed to do. She’s supposed to be there. And if you’re not, Ajax is gonna get suspicious.”

  “Oh sure, tell yourself that. Tell yourself it’s about Ajax and protecting me and all that bullshit you spout. If you really trusted me, you wouldn’t question it if I wanted a night to myself.” She paused, the stark look on her face horribly confronting. “And you’d believe me when I tell you Blade had nothing to do with this.”

  He scowled, his hands clenching into fists in the pockets of his jeans. He wanted to go to her, shove her against the wall again, rip away her jeans and bury himself inside her, fuck away her doubts, fuck away her pain. Prove to her exactly how wrong she was.

  But he didn’t. Because deep down, he knew she wasn’t wrong.

  Blue gritted his teeth. He couldn’t risk her talking to Blade straight out because he didn’t trust that fuck as far as he could throw him. But he could give her a little something, couldn’t he? A demonstration of trust.

  “Okay then.” He had to force out the words and they weren’t graceful and they weren’t pretty, but they were something. “You can have tonight. But promise me you won’t talk to Blade. Fucking promise me, Red.”

  Her mouth compressed, but she held his gaze. “I promise.”

  Blue grunted. Then he turned on his heel and left.

  Chapter 9

  Blue leaned against a streetlight, his hands in his pockets, watching the door to Alice’s garage. He was taking a risk being here in the middle of Ministry territory, but he hadn’t been able to stand hanging around The Priory and dealing with the task Ajax had given him of handling the new club prospects.

  Not having her in his bed the night before had driven him fucking crazy and he’d hated every minute of it. But it had given him some time to turn over in his head what she’d told him the day before, and now he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

  The day he’d walked into his father’s study all those years ago and seen him fucking her mother over his desk had been the day his childhood well and truly ended. The full hypocrisy of the world had been revealed, as had the lies and moral bankruptcy at the heart of it. He’d been brought up believing in family loyalty, in honesty. That what you were on the inside, you were on the outside. But it was all just a crock.

  His father had never been honest a day in his life, his affairs destroying families and causing pain wherever he went. And his mother had just shut up and stood by her man like a good Southern woman should, pretending it all didn’t matter. Encouraging him to ignore it too.

  Ever since then loyalty, trust, and honesty had been vital for him. They were what had drawn him to the Deacons, to the MC life. There was only honesty in the club, only loyalty. The kind he’d wanted and never had from his family. Which had made Alice’s defection to the Ministry come as a shock. But now…he could almost understand why she’d done what she had.

  And why this was now so difficult for her.

  Because what he’d asked her to do was risky. If she was discovered passing info on to the Deacons, she’d be in deep shit and it would be his fault. And it wasn’t just the physical threat that was an issue, but the fact that she’d lose her business, her home, and her family. Sure, he hated that she’d gone to the fucking Ministry, but he had to appreciate the fact that they’d looked after her.

  Of course, it didn’t make it any easier that he’d been the one who put her in this mess in the first place. Which meant that if he was going to be a decent old man to her, he couldn’t leave her to deal with this crap by herself. He’d already done it once before; he couldn’t do it again.

  Things had definitely not been helped by Ajax getting impatient. He wanted his revenge, and his mercenary ways were starting to show. “We’ll take them anyway,” he’d told Blue the day before. “God can sort the fuckers out himself.”

  Blue, impatient himself, was in agreement. But the Deacons just weren’t ready for an all-out war and Ajax knew that. They needed to wait for Alice to get proof of Blade’s involvement before they started anything they couldn’t finish. Unfortunately, though, nearly a week had passed since the Ministry party and she hadn’t managed to find out anything more. It was a delicate process.

  Ajax didn’t give a shit how delicate the process was. He was after blood. Ministry blood. Alice would just have to try harder. And if it took any longer, Ajax would start to question whether she was being as loyal to the Deacons as she claimed. He’d added insult to injury by telling Blue that perhaps she was playing him. That perhaps she was using his property patch to protect herself.

  Blue had told him to get fucked. But that didn’t change the fact that it was perilously close to the truth.

  The whole reason she was his old lady in the first place was to protect her.

  Jesus Christ, this whole situation was just so fucked up.

  He adjusted his stance against the streetlight. It was completely wrong but for one moment, a wave of homesickness for the bayou caught at him. Everything had been so simple then. Nothing had mattered but getting home again, being a Deacon again. Getting back everything he’d lost. Yet now he had those things and…

  You could lose them again.

  He gritted his teeth. He wasn’t going to fucking lose them again. He would have everything he wanted. His bike, his cut. The Deacons. And he would have Red, too. They were all his, and no one was going to take them from him ever again.

  You can keep the rest. But you can’t keep hold of Alice if she doesn’t want to stay.

  Bullshit to that. He’d make her stay. He’d make it so she’d never want to leave. He’d give her what she wanted somehow—a family—and she’d stay for sure. Because all this “temporary” crap wasn’t going to happen. She was his and he was going to keep her.

  The door to the garage banged open and a dark-haired guy wearing a Ministry cut came out. He was whistling, looking so fucking pleased with himself Blue wanted to thump him. Was this the guy she’d been getting close to? Screw thumping him. Blue wanted to kill him.

  The guy strolled down the street, going past Blue, giving him a glance as he did so. Blue got his phone out and looked down at it, pretending to be a
bsorbed in something on the screen. He didn’t know the brother walking past him and he was pretty sure the guy wouldn’t know him. But no point eyeballing him and causing suspicion.

  “You’re being a fucking idiot,” a feminine voice said as the guy rounded the corner and disappeared. “First my apartment, now here?”

  Blue kept his gaze on the screen. “They don’t know who I am. I’ve been away too long.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “You got your night to yourself. Now I’m back.” He looked up from the screen and met those beautiful sky-blue eyes of hers. Felt the impact of them go right through him. “I thought about what you said. About talking to Blade. And I want to trust you with it, I really do. But you gotta understand. The Deacons come first—that’s where my loyalty lies and it always will. And you might trust Blade, but Ajax fucking doesn’t.”

  A shadow moved through her eyes, gone so fast he thought he’d imagined it. She turned her head, glancing casually down the street. “Right.” Her voice sounded wooden. “So he wants that proof.”

  “Yeah, and he’s getting impatient. He thinks you’re delaying getting it so you can use me as protection from him.”

  There was a silence.

  “He’s not wrong,” she said eventually.

  The words hurt for some inexplicable reason, which was stupid when he’d been thinking that very thing not moments before. But it was one thing to think it himself, quite another for her to say it out loud. “It’s not just about protection. I didn’t hear you complaining when I fucked you over that table in the courtyard last week.”

  Another silence.

  She stood on the pavement near the garage door, arms crossed, looking away from him. She had on her dark blue, grease-stained overalls and her hair was in a loose ponytail down her back. He remembered her like this. Remembered sitting in the garage with her, watching her work.

  He wanted to do that right now, go in and see her garage. Watch her put her hands to work on the bikes. There was something sexy about the idea of her dismantling and fixing machines, those long fingers of hers unscrewing nuts and tightening bolts…

  Christ, he was getting hard just thinking about it. He wanted those hands on him, on his cock, stroking him, making up for all the lonely nights when it had been just him alone in his bed, with nothing but those dreams of her and his own palm to keep him company.

  One night without her was one night too many.

  “Tonight,” he growled. “You’re coming back to The Priory tonight.”

  She looked at him, her mouth tightening. “And if I don’t?”

  “Then I’ll come over to your apartment and drag you back there.”

  Tension gathered in the air between them.

  “Stop being an asshole,” she murmured, glancing again down the street. “This is a stupid conversation to have here.”

  She was right. He was being an asshole. Standing around outside her garage and being pissed at her, then getting horny at the thought of her fixing bikes, was not helpful. Arguing with her about Ajax and whether or not she was coming back to him tonight was not helpful.

  Priest and the information she was trying to gather were the important things to focus on.

  Yet that fact didn’t stop the next words that came out of his mouth whether he wanted them to or not. “Was that guy the one?”

  She blinked. “What guy?”

  “The one who just came out of your garage. Was he the one who touched you at the fucking Ministry party?”

  Her mouth flattened. “Go home. You want me to get that proof then you leave me alone to get it. You’re putting me at risk standing around here acting like a damn guard dog.”

  He didn’t want to leave, but again, he knew she was right.

  Cursing under his breath, he put his phone in his pocket and pushed himself away from the streetlight. “I don’t like doing nothing,” he muttered. “It’s not me.”

  The look on her face softened slightly. “Yeah, I get that. But seriously, if you’re caught here—”

  “I know. I just…” He paused, met her gaze. “I wanted to see you work. I used to like doing that. Remember?”

  This time she smiled a little, the curve of her mouth soft and sweet. “I remember.”

  For a second the memory of their lost friendship hung between them and he wanted to reach out and grab it, hold it tight in his fist so it would never escape. But she was already turning away, glancing up then down the street, a frown creasing her forehead. “Blue, please. You’d better go.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m going. I’ll see you tonight.” He tried to make it sound less like a question and more of an order. “Don’t be late.”

  She just rolled her eyes and turned back to the garage. He waited until she’d gone inside, the door clanging shut behind her.

  Then he realized that one of his hands was clenched in a fist. As if he was trying to hold onto something that kept slipping away.

  —

  After Blue had gone, Alice bent over Gator’s bike, tightening up the last few bolts on the new exhaust she’d fitted over the past week. The old one had been shot all to hell, dented and crumpled by an accident Gator said he’d had. Because his softail was a custom job, she’d had to special-order the new exhaust, which had taken a couple of days longer to arrive than expected.

  Gator had been getting a touch impatient, which was fair enough. No biker liked being without his ride.

  The wrench slipped, banging against the exhaust, and she cursed, hoping like hell she hadn’t put a mark on the thing.

  This was all goddamn Blue’s fault.

  Putting down the wrench, she leaned against the workbench, wiping a hand across her forehead.

  It wasn’t like her to let her tiredness and her stupid, shitty feelings affect her work like this, but today she felt like crap, and Blue’s little visit just now hadn’t helped. Like it hadn’t helped the night before.

  She hadn’t thought her “I’m sick” text would work, but she’d hoped he’d get the message that she needed some distance. Naturally enough he hadn’t, storming through her door and pushing her up against the wall. Touching her the way her body craved. And yet it had only made everything worse, proving to her that he was right: that it wasn’t distance she wanted from him at all, but closeness.

  Except he couldn’t give her the kind of closeness she wanted.

  Loyalty had always been important to him and his first loyalty was to his club.

  She knew that. Hell, she’d grown up in the MC and that was always how it went. But how could she give up the club that had done so much for her to be with him?

  You know he’d protect you.

  Oh, yeah, he’d told her he would. But people broke their word all the time. Her mother had promised to be faithful. Her father had promised he’d never leave her. Blue had promised he’d be her friend forever. The Deacons had promised to have her back.

  Even her own body had betrayed her, messing up the one thing she’d never questioned. Her ability to have kids.

  How could she trust anyone after that? Pretty much the only person who hadn’t screwed her over was Blade.

  Sighing, she turned to look at Gator’s bike again, squinting at the scratches on the paintwork on the gas tank. And then the door to her garage banged open again.

  Christ, if it was Gator coming back, she’d get her knife out and stick him with it. He’d been coming in at least once every day, his ostensible reason being to see about his bike. But she knew why he was really there: to check on her. To see whether she’d made up her mind about him or not.

  She’d managed to hold him off for a week, but he was starting to get pissed about it and she supposed she couldn’t blame him. She should just give him the truth—that she wasn’t interested. The problem was, however, that she hadn’t managed to get any more information out of him about Priest or any potential Ministry involvement. And she knew that if she kept pushing him on it, he’d start to get suspicious, if he wasn’t
already. She really couldn’t afford that.

  “Red,” a deep male voice said. Not Gator but Blade.

  She stepped back from the bike and gave him a nod. “Hey. What can I do for you? If you want to talk about yesterday—”

  “It’s not about yesterday.” The Ministry president moved slowly over to where she stood, stopping near the table that Gator’s bike rested on, hands in the pockets of his jeans. “This isn’t a social visit this time.” There was a brief silence as he looked at her, his expression impossible to read. “I hear you’ve been asking questions.”

  Shit.

  Alice folded her arms over her chest, trying to still the sudden loud thumping of her heart. “Oh?”

  Blade’s black eyes were very direct. “About Priest.”

  She swallowed, her gut twisting, a hot wash of shame stinging her cheeks.

  Ask him. Just ask him whether he paid for a hit on Priest.

  But she couldn’t. She’d promised Blue.

  “Who told you that?” she asked, hoping her voice sounded casual.

  “Doesn’t matter who told me. I want to know why you’re so interested in Priest’s death.”

  Fucking Gator. She’d bet anything on the fact that he’d passed on to Blade her interest.

  She lifted a shoulder. “Hey, he was my president back in the day. I grew up with him—you know that. His death was a shock and I’m still dealing with it.”

  “You’re Ministry now, though.”

  “I’ve been Ministry for five years. I was a Deacon for twenty. Does that answer your question?”

  There was a tense, heavy silence.

  He watched her for a long moment. Then he asked, “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  Oh fuck. Where did she go from here?

  “There are rumors,” she said carefully, going for as much honesty as she could. “Rumors that Priest’s accident wasn’t so much of an accident.”

  “And?” There was no inflection in his voice at all.

  She hesitated. “And that the Ministry had something to do with it.”