Roddick: CAOS MC Read online

  “I can’t guarantee that.”

  “You’ll have to because if anyone finds out about this, we’re all at risk. You have the protection of the government, we have wives, girlfriends, and children to protect.”

  Brockton sighed and ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head and muttering under his breath. “I’ll have to clear it with the boss. Meet me at task force HQ on Monday.” He took a final bite of the shumai and stood, grabbing the leather jacket that made him look less like Captain America.

  “One more thing, Brockton.” I’d told him about the woman in the ER, but I didn’t give him her name. “Another truck was found outside Ojo, confirming her story.”

  “Shit!” He stepped outside and barked into the phone with more than a few ‘fucks’ and ‘shits’ thrown in for good measure. He walked back in a few minutes later. “Thanks for the intel, Roddick.”

  With Brockton gone, I sat in the booth, eating egg rolls and satay as I thought about my life. I’d been in CAOS since I was a young man, a soldier before that. At forty-four, I felt ancient compared to the prospects, hell even compared to Mick. I didn’t even feel fucking young anymore. I didn’t feel as strong and energetic as I once was, especially the long healing process after taking a fucking bullet. The violence only seemed to get worse no matter what the club did, and in such a filthy fucking world it would be harder and harder for CAOS to stay clean.

  I looked over at an old couple enjoying the buffet as much as they enjoyed being together, and it made me think that maybe it was time I got a life outside of CAOS. Like a woman of my own and maybe some ankle biters.

  Yeah right, like that shit would ever happen.

  Chapter Two

  Cherie

  “Is Roddick here?” I had already searched the clubhouse bedrooms and even the apartment upstairs, and the man was nowhere to be found. “I’m supposed to meet him here.”

  “He’s not here, but I can help you with whatever you need.” A cute blond who couldn’t be more than a few years older than me made a lewd move with his hips, flashing a dimpled smile my way.

  “Dude, that’s Baz’s sister! You’re dead.” Track had been part of CAOS for a few years now, and he had that whole sexy biker thing going with long black hair and penetrating eyes that were nearly as black. “He’s at home today. Said he wouldn’t be in at all.”

  Well that was just fucking great. My shift at the hospital had just ended which meant I’d been up for going on sixteen hours with no sleep, and he couldn’t even be bothered to show up. “Thanks, Track.” I sent a wave as I made my way to the parking lot and away from the clubhouse. The stubborn man needed his bandages changed and more antibiotic cream from the bullet he’d taken almost two months ago. Despite his white knight routine in the parking lot the other night, he wasn’t fully healed.

  I pulled up to his house with the same amused grin I always wore, because he’d chosen a home in a family neighborhood where kids rode their bikes on the sidewalk and played kickball in the street. It was so normal it often made me wonder if I knew the real Roddick. Not that I knew him at all, actually. As far as he was concerned, I was just the annoying little kid who used to follow him everywhere with stars in her eyes. He’d seen me with pigtails and braces, and he’d been there when Baz taught me how to defend myself. How to shoot. But this neighborhood spoke of a man who wanted something more than what he had. More than what he’d chosen to have.

  I walked up to the one and a half story California bungalow. It was blue with white trim and a neat lawn. I knocked and no one answered, so I dug around the birdfeeder for the spare key and pushed inside, hoping I wasn’t about to find something I wouldn’t be able to forget. “Roddick?” He wasn’t in any of the common areas, so I kept going. “Rod? Roddick, are you here?” Oh, he was here all right. On his back with one arm slung over his face, sheet riding so low on his waist that one small tug would give me my first look at him. I licked my lips at the sight he made.

  Despite his age he was in fantastic shape, body hard though not as defined as his younger years. A prominent vee could still be seen behind the sprinkling of chocolate hair that disappeared under the sheet. Damn, he was far more manly, more built than in my dreams. Then I saw it, blood seeping through the bandage, and clenched my teeth. Get it together, girl. I couldn’t just stand there ogling a sleeping man. I needed to look under that bandage, and he’d been putting me off for a few days. I turned and left the bedroom, heading to the kitchen where I made a pot of coffee, cleaned up, and made some food. I knew I shouldn’t take care of him like that, but I wanted to, and I had to wait for him to wake up so I kept busy.

  But even that could only last so long.

  I set the rustic pot pie in the oven to stay warm and went to check on him again, this time noticing that he felt a bit warmer than normal. A light sheen of sweat covered his face and chest. “Shit.” A gasp escaped when his hand wrapped around my wrist, keeping it pressed to the warmth of his chest muscles, twisting so I was on my back underneath him.

  “Cherie babe, if you wanted into my bed all you had to do was say so.” He laughed and his blue eyes glittered, making me forget why I’d shown up in the first place. At least temporarily.

  He was so big, so male. So hot and strong pressed up against me. And the man wore nothing but a pair of boxers. Loose boxers that let me feel everything. And it was significant. My body began to respond to his nearness, heart racing, breathing shallow, and my body grew warm with desire. I squirmed to get him to move, but he groaned and flexed his hips, making me gasp. “I didn’t come here to get in your bed.”

  But I don’t mind staying, just for a little while.

  “Keep telling yourself that.” He leaned in close, and I swore he sniffed my hair, but I was too busy inhaling his scent to notice. Finally, he rolled away, and I felt a wave of disappointment. “Why else did you come, then?”

  I blew out a breath that might have been annoyance, but probably more toward sexual frustration. “Bullet hole in your body ringing any bells?”

  “Now that you mention it.” He rolled onto his back with a groan, stretching out and giving me the most delicious view of his body. The little devil on my shoulder told me to drag my tongue across every inch of his skin and to linger on the tattoos that had enchanted me for years, before stripping naked and begging him to take me. But the angel reminded me that I couldn’t handle a man like Roddick. If he wanted me for real. Despite his constant flirting, I knew he didn’t. “See something you like?” he teased.

  I nodded, a teasing smile curving my lips. “Yeah, I’ve always wanted a six-pack,” I told him and smacked my own midsection which wasn’t flat at all but rather slightly rounded.

  The terrible tease patted his hard flat stomach and said, “Here’s one. You want it, you got it.”

  I shook my head and laughed. “One day I’m going to take you up on that offer and watch how quickly you run in the opposite direction.” I slid off the bed and stood over him, touching the wound for any signs of tension or swelling. Touching him like this was torture because I knew it was as close as I’d ever come to touching him the way I wanted to.

  “You might be surprised at my reaction, Cherie. Why don’t you try it one day and find out?”

  I froze for just a fraction of a second, but it was too long. I heard his chuckle, and the damn man knew he’d gotten to me. I continued checking his wound and maybe I took an extra second to enjoy the feel of his hot, hard body beneath my fingers. “You need to finish those antibiotics. Have you been taking them regularly?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you should be just about out. Take one a day until they’re all gone, and you should be fine. Call me if you feel pain or swelling at the wound site.” He let me rinse the wound with saline and pat it dry without so much as a groan. “It looks good, but we still need to keep an eye on it.”

  With a sleepy smile, he grabbed my wrist. “Thank you, Cherie.”

  “My pleasure. Can’t have my hero getting
an infection, can I?” For as long as I can remember he’d been my hero, and it didn’t look like it would change anytime soon.

  “Has anyone been bothering you?”

  “No,” I told him with an indulgent smile. “I made some food and left it in the oven, make sure you eat before taking those pain pills.”

  “Want to join me?”

  “I’d love to, but I’ve been awake since yesterday morning, and I need my sleep.” Which was exactly what I did when I got home.

  And I absolutely did not dream about a certain blue-eyed, tattooed devil with a hero complex.

  ***

  Roddick

  Pulling up to the nondescript task force building, I hopped off my bike and started for the door. Mick and I made the first purchase, two bricks of heroin, from Lazarus less than an hour ago, and I was here to keep up my end of the bargain. “Agent Brockton,” I told the middle aged woman in bright red lipstick who sat behind the desk in the lobby.

  He came down a few minutes later flashing his superhero fucking smile that made me itch to punch him. He was a nice guy even if he was a pretty boy. “Come on back. How’d it go?”

  “The deal was done and there was no guy in a fancy suit introducing himself as Lazarus’ boss, if that’s what you want to know.”

  Brockton laughed and led me into a room where Agent Pollyanna waited. “Good. You have the goods?”

  I slid the drugs across the table and grabbed a chair, ripping the wire off and dropping it on the table. “Everything you need is all there.”

  “Not quite. We need you to see if you can get us ears or eyes inside one of his stash houses.” Johnson wore a shit-eating grin I’d happily smack off her if I was in the habit of putting my hands on women.

  “No fucking way! That little dude is completely fucked in the head, and I ain’t letting him kill or fuck me so you can make your case.”

  “But he’s so sweet on you,” she joked.

  I ignored her teasing. “Well, it ain’t fucking happening, so find another way.” Everyone knew Lazarus was a paranoid motherfucker, moving safe houses in the middle of the night, booby-trapping them and sometimes he flat out burned it to the ground before letting someone get close enough to ID it.

  Molly stood, gassing herself up to argue with me, I was sure. She’d learn real soon that I couldn’t be bullied. “You’re not running things here, biker boy.”

  “And neither are you, Pollyanna.”

  Brockton stepped in to break us up. “We’ll put trackers in the cash and hope it will lead us to at least a few different locations. Maybe someone else in the organization.”

  “The money guy?” Brockton nodded. “Fine. I’ll talk to Lazarus and set something up, but I need a week or he’ll get suspicious.” The club couldn’t go from buying no drugs to selling off kilos in just a few days.

  “Fine. We’ll touch base in eight days.”

  I nodded and made my way out of the building. My phone rang, and I smiled. “Baz man, where the fuck are you?”

  He laughed that psychotic laugh of his. “Missed me?”

  “Like I missed a bullet in my side, brother.”

  He sobered. “This crew has some custom work they want to have done, and they’re willing to pay, Rod. A lot.”

  I knew what he was asking and because the man could fix, upgrade, hack and manipulate any piece of hardware or software on the planet, I agreed. “Fine. Stay and finish it up.”

  “How’s Cherie? She said you helped her with some asshole at work?”

  “She’s fine. Working too damn much, but I saw her two days ago when she cleaned my wound and changed my bandage.” Neither of us said a thing for a long moment. “I’ll look after her.”

  “I have no doubt or I wouldn’t have asked. I gotta go, I just wanted to check in and make sure everything is cool?”

  “Yep. Cherie’s in good hands.”

  “I’m sure she is,” he snickered and ended the call.

  I jumped on my bike and headed for the clubhouse. I’d barely killed the engine when Torch came up to me wearing a scowl with several frowning prospects behind him. “What now?”

  “Some fucked up shit is happening at the ER. I don’t know what, but Minx called from another floor and said the ER is on lockdown. She saw Cherie there earlier.”

  Shit. Fuck. “Torch, let’s go, you follow me. Prospects, watch the rear exits and don’t let anyone leave. Keep an eye out for Cherie.” We all got back on our bikes and burned rubber to get there. I left my bike right in front of the ER, plowing through the automatic glass doors to find most of the staff gathered around the main desk. “What’s going on?”

  A redhead I recognized came forward nervously. “Two Hispanic guys stormed into the ER with guns and locked themselves in one of the patient rooms with Cherie inside.”

  “A female patient?” She nodded and took a step back. “Thanks. Torch, let’s go.” I signaled to the prospects to stay alert and watch our sixes.

  “Excuse me, but you can’t...” A dark haired doctor stepped forward but went silent at the deadly look I sent his way. “The door is locked from the inside, but these keys will unlock it automatically.” He handed me a white card and stepped back.

  “Thank you. I promise not to make a mess of your hospital. Call Sheriff Darlington.” Torch and I made our way to the locked door, pressing our ears to the door to see if we could get an idea what the fuck was going on in there. “You hear anything?” I whispered.

  Torch put a finger to his lips and pointed back toward the door. Round blue eyes looked through me as he listened intently, his focus deadly. Then Cherie spoke.

  “She has a bad infection and can’t be moved. She was unconscious when she came in from the shock of her injuries.” Her smooth whiskey voice was calm and slow, but I heard the underlying annoyance she did nothing to hide as she lied to them.

  “Puta!” A heavily accented voice yelled, deeper than the guy who came after her in the parking lot. “Just tell us what she said, and you can go. One of your friends already told us she was talking when she came in.”

  I held my breath waiting for her to respond. “That’s true, but she was screaming in pain but I don’t speak Spanish.”

  “Lying bitch!” I heard the smack and Cherie’s loud cry before I heard a male voice roar in pain. “I’m gonna kill you, bitch!”

  That was all I needed to hear. Torch slid the white card against the reader on the wall, and we both hoped like hell the commotion hid the sound of the automatic lock. We rushed in with guns drawn on both men, each of us going for one of the bastards holding Cherie. One of them was splayed on the floor holding his neck where a syringe stuck out. He squirmed around trying to get to his feet, but Torch kicked him in the side the pressed his boot down on his neck and pinned him in place. “Stay down, motherfucker. You fucked with the wrong nurse. You okay, sweetheart?”

  Cherie gave a small smile to Torch who happily treated her like she was also his kid sister. They made an odd pair, Torch with his bald head and big blue eyes, tattoos everywhere and six feet six frame, and Cherie so tiny and blonde. “I’m good. Thanks, guys.” She flashed me a quick smile before turning back to the woman in the bed, but not before I saw the blush staining her cheeks. “I used my sedative on that asshole, and she needs it.”

  Torch and the prospects took the men before the police arrived, and I stayed behind with Cherie. “What do you need?”

  She turned to me, taking several deep breaths that drew my attention to the swell of her tits under those boxy scrubs. “Sedatives. I need sedatives.” She tried to step around me but, bastard that I was, I pushed forward slightly so she had no choice but to brush up against me as she shouted a few medical terms out the door. “Thanks for your help, Rod, but you can’t be back here.”

  I was momentarily struck mute by the husky sound of my shortened name on her lips, and I imagined that’s how she’d sound as I slid my hard dick inside her wet pussy.

  “Roddick.”

  I bli
nked a few times. “Right. I’ll be waiting for you in the lobby. Don’t leave without me.”

  Several emotions flashed in her eyes; chief among them annoyance but also gratitude, affection and maybe even lust. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking. Instead of arguing, she smiled and gave a crisp nod. “Okay. And seriously Rod, thank you.”

  “Anytime, Cherie.” She threw me a look I couldn’t decipher before turning back to the patient as another nurse rushed in carrying a shiny silver tray. I made my way to the ER waiting room and took a seat facing the door, watching for anything that didn’t sit right with me.

  Right now, it felt like that was every goddamn thing.

  Chapter Three

  Cherie

  It might sound old-fashioned to some people, but being in the kitchen relaxed me. Soothed me. And I needed it after everything that had happened at the hospital a few days ago. I was able to get Monica settled and checked in on a few other patients before leaving. The nursing administrator, Darla, insisted I take a few days off and I happily obliged, cleaning and tinkering around the house. Looking for jobs. In fact, I kept to myself. Mostly. I would’ve done a damn good job at it except Roddick stopped by every day with some excuse or another.

  Whether I wanted him to or not.

  Today I just wouldn’t open the door for him. I’d ignore the ringing bell, the sound of the knocker. The man disrupted my ability to think or be smart. Act smart. Which was why I found myself in the kitchen whipping up my famous spicy fajitas with the habanero salsa Torch had taught me to make when I was far too little to enjoy the heat. He’d taught me a lot including how to cook, how to shoot a gun, and how to curse like a sailor. Which had been a million years ago before he’d taken a twelve-year-old me bra shopping. I’d just added some mint to the salsa when the doorbell rang, and I groaned.

  Wiping my hands on a towel, I pushed through the kitchen door into the living room and to the front door. I knew who it would be, but I still peeked between the curtains before reluctantly opening the door. “Roddick, what a surprise,” I told him, not sounding at all surprised.