Forbidden (Motorcycle Club Romance): Trista and Blaze 1 (Fallen Idols Motorcycle Club) Read online

  I knew what that meant: guns. My dad just never seemed to get it; guns meant feds, and I wasn't getting into bed with any of that. He knew the money was big, but so was the risk, which had stopped us from voting for it as long as I'd been a member. He had only brought it up twice before now, but I wouldn't be surprised if I heard it again in church real soon. I knew what was coming. Axel would be the next Sergeant of Arms after Pops, and Ace would step up to president when my dad got out of the MC. Rogue might've survived bullet wounds, but old age was starting to kick his ass. And he knew there was nothing he could do about it. Guns were a fast way to make money. It was his endgame. He and Mom would finally be out, and maybe the rivalry with Las Almas would die down. I knew part of it was to protect me, but I could handle myself. I wasn’t some baby just because I was his little girl.

  I bit back what I really wanted to say on the matter, letting out a breath. “I don't like your idea of other investments. But you're the boss. Want me to go to the warehouse and check it out?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. Check on those two knuckleheads. I don't know. Maybe they just counted wrong, and I'm being paranoid.”

  It wouldn't be the first time dumb and dumber had screwed up. They were straight shooters, but leaving them together in the warehouse was just asking for shit to get blown up. Those boys liked to have a good time. I had gotten in plenty of trouble with the two of them over the years.

  “You got it. I’ll be back in a couple hours.”

  FOUR

  I walked out of the back room, and saw some of the guys sitting around the bar, talking to Larry. That potential new prospect, Blaze, wasn't anywhere to be seen. I hated to admit that it disappointed me. I would have to come out as not Kelly soon enough. But I didn’t know how to handle him. Part of me wanted to let him fuck my brains out again, while another part knew he was trouble for the club. I made my way past Ace, who was sitting on a barstool with a shot of whiskey in his hand. That man was never without a drink. As I passed by, he swung around.

  “What should I call you, little lady?” he asked me in his thick British accent, words slurring.

  I rolled my eyes, but I didn't turn around at first. “The same goddamned name you've been calling me for twenty-five years.”

  I turned around, grabbed a soda that one of the club whores had been drinking, and splashed it in his face. “You better sober up. We've got church later.” I loved messing with him; it was a natural high.

  He shook his head. “You little bitch! You got my fuckin’ hair wet.”

  Of course he was more worried about his hair than he was about the sticky soda all over his cut. He loved that ponytail more than any woman I’d ever seen him with. He tried to pat down his blond ponytail, but he knew the damage was done. I laughed to myself as I sashayed away. Ace and I had a love-hate relationship. He was the VP, so I should show him respect, but I didn't. And I was the president's daughter, so he should keep his hands off, but he didn't. Even though most of the time we spent together was spent arguing, I knew he would still take a bullet for me. That's just how family worked.

  I headed back out into the afternoon sunshine, zipping up my jacket. I put on my dome, knowing that it was about a thirty-minute ride to the docks. As long as traffic wasn't terrible, I could make in twenty. To avoid suspicions, we always rode straight on our way. The last thing we needed was a couple local cops coming to check out what CWR Inc. was actually about. As I rode through the streets, I felt like someone might be watching me, but years of being in the club had made me paranoid like my father. I took a few extra streets just to make sure I wasn't being followed, and by the time I got to the docks, I was certain I was completely alone.

  Axel was outside shining up his FatBoy, and I had to assume that Ryder was inside working. “Are you taking a break?”

  He popped his head up, and smiled at me, a toothy grin that was only reserved for me. He wiped his greasy hands on a cloth, but his arms were still mostly black from the years of tattoos he had added to build full sleeves. “Yeah, didn't you hear? We’re union here now.”

  Always messing with me, it was just Axel. As he swept his dark brown hair out of his face, I thought about the time in the clubhouse where things almost went too far. His lips on my neck, and his hands on my ass; it sent shivers down my body. But nothing had happened, regardless of either of us wanting it to or not. Rogue had called me right in the middle of it, almost like he knew what was going on. We lost a prospect that day, and Axel and I had been just friends ever since.

  “I like the new paint on the sign. Did you do that?”

  I shielded my eyes from the sunlight as I stared up at the big letters; it made us look real legit.

  “No, wasn't me. You know Ryder’s the one with the artistic ability. I think even a couple of Chen’s guys came down and helped him out.”

  Chen, another guy I had almost slept with on multiple occasions. VP of the Red Dragons, and our main business associate.

  “Are his guys working down here now?”

  Axel shrugged. “I don't think so. But you know Ryder. If he asked for help from anybody, they’d say yes.”

  That was true. Ryder just had this puppy dog look about him, and when he started to whine, you just had to help. Didn't matter if it was something you wanted to do or not. “Where is that shithead anyway? I hope he's at least getting some work done around here.”

  Axel tossed the greasy rag onto the ground next to his bike. “Yeah, he's in there. Still trying to figure out what the hell went wrong with the order. I don't know how we’re missing those two engines, Trista. We've got to find out what the hell is going on around here.”

  Wasn't that the truth.

  We walked through a side door into the darkened warehouse. Even though windows lined the whole top of the building, it was still too big for all of the sunlight to get in, and make much of a difference. There was a separate emblem as soon as you arrived, just to further throw off any local police that showed up. I strolled past the office, but Ryder wasn't in there, even though there was music blasting from the laptop. We kept walking past crates of stolen car parts, mostly from Japan. We finally got past the wall of wooden crates, and emerged into the main work area where Ryder was holding a clipboard, and scribbling furiously next to a Mercedes-Benz that we had just picked up.

  “Your old man send you down here to check up on us?” His eyes lifted from the board.

  “Something like that. So what's going on, fellas? We've got to figure out where these engines are. We've got church this afternoon, and you don't want to tell the old guys that they got lost on your watch.”

  Axel shook his head. “We weren't on duty last night.”

  “Then who was?”

  Ryder shrugged. “I don't know, Tris, but it was a mess when we came in.”

  Now, I was starting to get annoyed. “Are you trying to tell me that you don't even know if this place was under guard last night? I thought you were running things here.”

  Ryder looked at me like he always had since we were children. Getting annoyed with me was one of his favorite cousinly activities. “Don't talk to me about who's in charge of this place. If you want to point fingers, point them at Rogue. Your dad is the one who makes the schedule around here. I can't just live here.”

  “Why the hell not? It's not like you got anybody at home.”

  Axel covered his mouth, and laughed. “Burn! She got you, boy.”

  Ryder gave him a nasty look. “Way to have my back, jackass.” He was pissed. Sometimes, I pushed him too far. Ryder had been a different man since his fiancée left him. My smartass remarks weren’t always appreciated if he wasn’t in the mood.

  Axel put his hands up. “Okay, okay. Let's just figure out what happened to those two engines, and move on before anybody else needs to know about it.”

  I sighed. “I mean everybody at the club already knows. Who else do you mean?”

  Axel rubbed his face, and looked away from me. “Shit. Everybody knows?”


  “Are you selling to someone new? You know that has to go to church.”

  Ryder set the clipboard down on the car. “I'm not selling to anybody. That's not my part of the job. I get the cars, I break them down, and I leave the parts here. I'm no salesman.”

  Axel still didn't say anything, but if he was selling on the side, he wasn't telling Ryder, which meant he wasn't going to be honest about it now. I’d give him a chance to tell me on his own, before I brought it up in church.

  “Who does this baby go to?”

  Ryder picked up the board again, and walked around the beautiful car. It was bright red with black leather interior; it would make us a fortune. “This one's getting shipped out in about two hours. I guess we'll see you at church after that.”

  “Fine. Try to figure out what happened to those engines, though. You know my dad is gonna have my ass when I come back with no new information.”

  Ryder just shook his head. “Like I said, Tris. We weren’t here.”

  “What about the security cameras?”

  He shrugged. “They’re in the office, and you can check them, but I don't think you’re gonna see anything. Because anybody that steals from us has to be a damn good thief. Not dumb enough to get caught on any camera.”

  He was right, but, as I said goodbye, I stopped by the office to check the security cameras, just in case. I only watched them once, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. I didn't even see a truck pull away with the parts. Whoever this was, they were stealthy.

  FIVE

  I emerged out of the dark warehouse, lowering my sunglasses onto my eyes, and I strolled across the yard to get on my bike. As I glanced over my shoulder, a black town car parked about a block away, and watched us. Stolen car parts were one thing, but hanging around my territory could get you shot. I walked past my bike, and pulled out a cigarette, as I moved towards shipping containers. I could stand behind them, and scope out whoever was surveying us. Watching the enemy was easier than getting found out. I leaned against the container, inhaling a drawl out of my favorite brand, when a hand slipped across my mouth, and pulled me back. I immediately dropped my cigarette, and attempted to stamp on my assailant’s foot, but when I turned around, I was met with a familiar face.

  “Shit! What the hell are you doing?”

  Chen Li, vice president for the Red Dragons, stood in front of me. We'd been in business with them for over a decade, but they didn't usually come down to the shop. Ryder’s little favor was even odd for our arrangement. If Chen was here, there was trouble.

  “Saving your ass, girly. You think you can just stand and spy on some car, and think they won’t blow your head off in a second?”

  I stood tall. “I wanted them to know that they'd been seen.”

  “You think they'd be parked right there if they didn't want to be seen? Those aren’t some thugs, Trista. It's the damned Feds.”

  My mouth dropped open. “What the hell are the Feds doing here?”

  Chen ran his hands through his short hair. He was the only one in the Red Dragons with a buzz cut; he had cancer as a kid, and it never grew back completely. “I don't know, but this isn't good for business. I assume that it’s Victor Velasquez, or whatever the hell his name is. Whoever it is, it means trouble, and we have to keep a low profile.”

  I shook my head. None of this made sense. None of the Feds had it out for us, not since we bankrolled a couple of them two years ago during a sting operation. We were free and clear, and no one wanted to go to jail. Why were they suddenly looking into us now?

  “What the hell are you doing here anyway, Chen? This isn’t your side of the dock.” It was known that the Red Dragons also ran a smuggling operation south of here. We were in business with them, but we were strictly cars, back and forth to China. Whatever they did outside of that wasn’t our concern. Chen was one of our main contacts, but that didn't mean he came to the warehouse. We always met on neutral ground, to keep eyes off the place.

  “I'm looking for Rogue. Got some business to discuss, and he didn't answer my call this morning. And you know what happens when someone doesn't answer my calls…”

  I nodded. “You come looking. I understand. What do you need to discuss with Rogue? He hardly even comes down here anymore; this is a smooth operation.”

  “Is it really? Because, yesterday, the shipments didn't come in.”

  Stolen parts and now missing shipments? Jesus, we were in some serious shit.

  “What shipment? What's missing?”

  He shook his head. “This concerns me even more.”

  I squinted at him. “The Feds? We can get rid of them, don’t worry.”

  “It's not that, Trista. It's the fact that you didn't even know the two cars went missing. They never made it on a boat, so someone on your side has been talking. And the Feds being here only supports that.”

  “A rat? No, a Fallen Idol would never rat! We got more loyalty than anybody you've ever worked with. And you know that!”

  He raised his eyebrows, glaring. “I don't know who you got with you, Trista, but someone's been talking. And they're selling your shit right from underneath you.”

  I couldn't believe him. He knew how we operated, and he knew that my people would never talk. “Well, here's what we’re going to do. You go back home, and listen on the streets. Tell me if somebody's driving around in one of your cars. I’ll check my guys, and be sure that no one's gotten an influx of cash in the past week. And when both of us come up empty, we’ll take a look at some of the rivals.”

  He rolled his eyes at me. “Las Almas hasn’t got anything to do with this. They're not in the car trade, sweetheart. You know all they do is run drugs. Not that you have a handle on that either these days.”

  I pushed him up against the wall, and held my arm against his throat. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  He wouldn't push me back. He knew better than try something with a girl, especially one that was carrying. “Las Almas is running drugs in Brooks Landing.”

  I backed off. “And how the hell would you know that? You don't run through our territory? And their people know to stay away from us.”

  He smirked at me. “You know pussy talks better than anything else. One of the Dragon ladies says she’s buying over there all the time. You know who her supplier has to be. And she's not the only one.”

  Shit! If there was one thing we hated worse than people stealing from us, it was the goddamned Mexicans selling on our turf. Brooks Landing took care of us, and they loved us because we took care of them. We kept them safe. We made sure the streets didn’t run with blood or drugs. If Las Almas was dealing in our neighborhoods, they were going to feel the heat on their home ground. We’d take it to Pineview if we had to.

  I let him go. “I gotta deal with this shit. Rogue will call you to set up a meet. We'll figure out what the hell is going on. I promise you.”

  I turned to walk away, but Chen grabbed my hand, and pulled me back close to him. “Have you thought any more about my proposition?” His back was to the wall, and I was on top of him.

  I smiled at him innocently. “What proposition would that be?”

  He lifted my chin up with his forefinger, so that I was staring into his almond eyes. “I can't wait much longer. I'm highly sought after.”

  “Well, it's fun to know that I've caught the biggest prize at the fair.” I pushed my lips onto his, relishing the control I had over him. In only a moment, it was over. I turned and strutted away, never looking behind me.

  I put on my helmet, and started up my Harley. Quickly, I glanced at the black town car. They were far enough away that they didn’t hear our secrets, but I didn’t feel good that they were looking into us.

  Checking the rearview mirror, I saw Chen walking back to his Escalade. Our business arrangement was more important than my nighttime relationships. But, if I was going to keep either of them intact, I had to figure out where those cars were. And then I would deal with Las Almas.

 
SIX

  When I got back to the club, Mama was sitting outside on the bench eating her lunch. She always had her lunch outside. I think it gave her some sort of sense of normalcy in her life. Just like other office workers, even though our business was nothing like theirs.

  “Mama, what you got today?”

  She held up half of her sandwich to me. “Ham and cheese. Want some?”

  “Sure.” I sat down, took my half, and dug in. I hadn't had any breakfast, too much to deal with today.

  “What's going on, baby? You look stressed.” Her eyes wrinkled at the edges, showing her age, and maybe her worry. I hadn’t been the easiest child to raise. I had always assumed that’s why I was an only child.

  “I don't know, Mama. I was just down at the warehouse, and we’re missing some stuff. And then I saw Chen, and he said that two of our deliveries hadn’t made it to port. And on top of all that other shit, Las Almas is dealing in Brooks Landing.”

  She crumpled her napkin, throwing it down. “Shit! What makes them think that they can come over here? Don't they know what Rogue will do to them?”

  I shrugged. “You'd think that after all this time, they'd realize that we’re not family.”

  “Damn straight. Blood doesn't matter in this case.”

  I shook my head. “I don't know why they ever thought it did.”

  She sucked in a breath. “I mean, back in the old days, there wasn't beef. Before your dad and I got together, before the Fallen Idols, we were okay. Not friendly, but okay. We’d do jobs for one another; keep the streets clean. But then when your father and I got together, shit went down. And it's been that way ever since. My brother and I have barely spoken since the night that I came to live with your father.”

  “You mean the night Dad got shot?” Rogue had a serious scar on the front and back of his shoulder where a bullet had gone straight through. Somehow, it had been the last time he got shot, and that was nearly twenty-five years ago, right before I came into the picture. I was the whole reason my parents got together. A one-night stand had turned into a decades-long marriage that was deeper than any blood bond.