Jace (The Black Hornets MC Book 1) Read online

  I flagged down a taxi and made his day by telling him that I needed to get all the way to Redding. I had two hours to sit in the back of the hot cab and worry about what to do next.

  Nicholas is fine. Nicholas is fine. Nicholas is fine.

  It was the mantra I chanted that kept me going. So long as I stuck to the plans and the timelines, my brother would be okay. I sat there with my back sticking to the hot seat and my drug-addled suitcase sitting next to me in the back. I let the sun beat down onto my face through the window. Sweat trickled down the back of my neck. I let my eyes slowly start to close, as the taxi sped along the highway.

  And then, out of nowhere, I heard the roar of engines coming down the road. A bunch of young men rode past me on massive motorcycles, clad in nothing but black with sunglasses on their face. And the emblem on the back of their leather cuts caught my attention. The Black Hornets. I was familiar with them. There were rumors about them in Escondido, where I grew up. About how they help people like us in situations like this. How they protect and defend, and kill when necessary. That they play in the gray, but always lean to the side of the good.

  I watched them roll by and continue riding up the road. And as I watched them, a thought ran through my mind.

  Could they help someone like me?

  Chapter 2

  Jace

  “A round of beers for everyone!” Dean exclaimed.

  “Looks like he’s still celebrating his daughter’s wedding,” Maverick said, snickering.

  “Brynn’s a tough fucking cookie. You’d be celebrating, too, if you unloaded a woman like that out of your life,” Duke said.

  “Make sure Dean doesn’t hear you talking like that. He’ll blow your damn head off,” Colt said.

  “Ain’t that the truth,” I said.

  We all piled into our usual spot. A bar we owned on the other side of town. It kept us afloat. Put gas in our motorcycles and gave us spending money. But the bulk of all our incomes was our profession. Guns for hire. You need protection, you come to us. But you better have a pretty penny to pay for it with. The only reason the Dead Souls got our help was because Dean married Brynn off to Diesel. Their president. But we don’t work for free. Ever. Dean paid us out of his own damn pockets to make sure that shit went down the way it needed to. Our reputation in town was a good one. Loud, but good. We partied as hard as we worked, and we worked our asses off.

  It was hard keeping up a perfect record. That’s right. Excellent record. Meaning, no one who hired and wanted us for our services had ever died.

  Ever.

  Not them. Not their families. Not their cousins. No one. We annihilated the enemy, cleaned out their closets, and set them on a path to a new life. That was why our services cost an arm and a leg. No one ever died, and the job was always thoroughly taken care of.

  We had our side businesses, of course. Right now, we were paired up with the High Rollers MC. A crew based out of Reno and Vegas. They ran their own little illegal gambling business and made a pretty penny for themselves as well. And right now, we were all contracted to help them out in the ‘hired muscle’ department whenever they needed it. We all took shifts, had our own damn schedules, and saw a very nice paycheck every two weeks.

  We practically had a damn nine to five with those men.

  “You gonna drink that beer? Or you gonna keep staring at it?” Colt asked.

  “Why don’t you suck on the tip of your own bottle and leave mine alone?” I asked.

  “Don’t mind Jace. He’s just pissed that there aren’t any pretty new ladies here in the bar today,” Duke said.

  “They’re all his sloppy seconds at this point,” Maverick said, grinning.

  “Trust me, the reason why you guys can’t get women isn’t because they have me first. It’s because you talk about them like they’re property,” I said.

  “We’re just having a bit of fun. Lighten the hell up, Jace,” Colt said.

  “Yeah. What the fuck’s got your panties in a wad?” Duke asked.

  “How’s it going’ over here, guys?”

  Dean clapped my back so hard it lurched me against the damn bar.

  “Well, Jace over here has a stick up his ass. Other than that, we’re good,” Maverick said.

  “Stick? Ya need me to tug on it for you?” Dean asked.

  “He’s the one with the paramedic background. He can get it out of his own ass!” Duke exclaimed.

  All of the guys threw their heads back and laughed. But I only shook mine. I didn’t like crowds. Plain and simple. And with the Dead Souls hanging out around here more often because of our ‘union’, it made a place of solace for me very crowded with idiots I didn’t want to interact with on a regular basis. It wasn’t that I didn’t like them. They were fine. But damn it, when a bunch of drunk ass men hanging all over their women got to talking, things got loud.

  I had enough loud during my days.

  I didn’t want it with my nights and weekends, too.

  “Hey. Hey. Jace. I think I got something’ that’ll cheer you up,” Maverick said.

  He slapped my arm before he pointed to the door.

  “Fresh meat,” Duke said.

  “Oh, she’s right up your alley, too. Got that far-off look in her eye. She looks like she could use a drink,” Colt said.

  I sighed and whipped my chair around, and when my eyes rested on her, my world stopped. It felt like time itself had come to a grinding halt and all of the sounds in the bar dimmed into silence. She was beautiful. Clad in a silken pair of black pants with a deep orange shirt tucked into her pants. A professional woman. With sunglasses on her head and dark mahogany hair tumbling practically to her fucking waist. She walked in sensible heels, and her amber eyes looked around, and every time her eyes moved I saw speckles of other colors.

  Gold. Amber.

  I was taken by them. By her presence as a whole. But she was sorely out of place in a dive bar like this.

  I tossed back the rest of my beer and the guys clapped their hands. They cheered me on as I slid from my seat, then I popped my neck and smoothed my hands over my shirt. I started my journey towards her. I saw her eyes connect with mine. They fell down my body, clocking my long torso and my very long legs as I approached her with a smile.

  But the closer I got, the more I began to understand why Colt made the comment he had made.

  She did look distraught. Tossing away the fact that she was out of place completely, her eyes darted around as if she was looking to get away from something. I knew that look. Many people had come to us in their time of need with that look on their face. But as her eyes rose back to mine, I watched a softness come over her features. I watched a comfort blanket her olive skin as a kind smile spread across her cheeks.

  If she was putting on a face, it was a very good one.

  “While that color is very beautiful on you, I can’t help but think that you’re screaming for attention,” I said.

  And while her eyes danced between mine, I saw panic rise behind them.

  “No need to be alarmed. You’re just in a bar full of drinking men. Care to join the crowd?” I asked.

  I ushered her over to the bar, and she followed. My eyes fell to her ass. Her perky, tight little ass. She had curves for days. Slopes any man would dream of putting his hands in. The dip in her waist poured into a thick pair of hips and a voluptuous pair of breasts. Her shoulders were broad. Strong. Confident. But there was the slightest hunch in her back. And that slight little hunch was what set me on edge.

  I patted Colt on the shoulder before signaling for him to beat it. He slid off his barstool, and I helped the young woman up onto it, then turned her to face me. Even sitting on the barstool, she still had to tilt her head up slightly to keep my face in view. I towered over most at six-foot-five, but she looked to be no more than five-foot-three. And with the fearful look that kept growing in her gaze and her unwillingness to talk, she became smaller with every passing second.

  Now, I enjoyed myself a nic
e woman. A kind woman. One with a genuine smile and thick lips. And while this beautiful woman had all of the makings of a great one-night stand, the more I studied her, the more I wondered if she was in here for something else.

  Another reason.

  Another service I could provide.

  “Care for a drink?” I asked.

  The woman nodded her head but still didn’t say anything.

  “Two beers, please. And water to go along with it for the lovely lady at my side,” I said, smiling.

  I watched her cheeks flush, but she still didn’t say anything.

  “So, what brings a very dazzling woman like yourself into a place like this today?” I asked.

  I caught the beer being slid my way before a glass of water and beer was set in front of her. She looked at the drinks and cocked her head, but she didn’t take either of them. I tipped my beer up to my lips, and I slowly allowed my protective instincts to take over my flirtatious advances. And as I flipped over into a work mindset, more things fell into place. The way she picked at her nail beds nervously. The way her eyes darted between the beer and the water. The way she peeked over at me before glancing back at the doorway.

  She was simultaneously looking over her shoulder and waiting for instruction.

  “You can take the drink,” I said.

  And very quickly, her hand reached for the water and she chugged it back.

  I looked past her shoulder and saw Maverick staring at me curiously. Even though he was the numbers guy in our crew--our Treasurer, to be exact--he knew when something was up. I watched him slap the back of his hand against Duke’s chest, and when our secretary turned around, he quickly got Colt’s attention. Colt was our Road Captain, and I was the club’s Vice President. But as of right now, I stepped into an acting-President role.

  Because I had a feeling we were looking at a new client.

  “Do you need help?” I asked.

  The woman’s eyes panned over to me, and I lost the breath in my lungs. She really was beautiful. Gold speckles in her amber eyes with a ring of green around all of it. It hurt a place in my soul I’d never touched to see her as scared as she was. She finished off the last of her water before setting her cup back onto the bar, and I motioned for the bartender to fill it back up.

  “Drink as much as you want,” I said.

  She nodded quickly before chugging another glass back, and the action made me angry. Irrationally angry, for not knowing a damn thing about this woman. I gripped my beer bottle tightly before relinquishing its empty contents to the bartender, who apparently didn’t want to clean up glass and blood off his bar today.

  And when the young woman was done drinking her second cup of water, I drew in a deep breath.

  “Are you in trouble? Is that why you walked in here?” I asked.

  And my instincts were confirmed when she nodded her head ‘yes.’

  This woman was in trouble, and I’d be damned if I wasn’t going to help her.

  Chapter 3

  Leti

  My mind threw me back to our family trips to Oaxaca. A little after my mother died. Just before things got so turned upside down. As the motorcycle gang rode past me while I clutched my suitcase, I remembered the name of a motorcycle club that used to prowl the area of my extended family. The Aztecs. They took care of people in their city. They protected people like myself from those that wanted to do me harm. They rumbled with the cartel, they got people out of sticky situations like debt collections. They even came into town and bought all of the little kid’s ice cream cones from time to time just to earn the town’s trust. They were sort of like superheroes in the area, and the times we did travel back to Oaxaca when I was a little girl, there were always new stories to sit and listen to about them.

  Stories I clung to as a teenager. As an adult.

  Stories I clung to now.

  Everything changed when the cartel gained more power, though. That beautiful motorcycle club had to flee the area, leaving a lot of people they used to protect vulnerable. So, keeping our family out of Mexico seemed like a good plan. One that would keep us out of reach from the cartel that took over the small town my father had grown up in.

  What shitty lucky we all had.

  I watched the Black Hornets rumble down the road and wondered about them. I wondered if they were like the Aztecs. If they protected this area and might have been willing to help me. I wondered about it so much that I after I got to the drop off point, I knew I couldn’t just sit there and wait. I wondered about it so much that I left my suitcase at the drop-off point without staying with it. An offense that I knew would get me killed, and risked Nicholas’ life in the process. I wondered about it so much that I risked all the money I had in my purse just to take me to the Black Hornets.

  And when we came upon a slew of bikes outside of a club in the middle of the woods, I asked the driver to pull over and stop.

  I paid him and tipped him what I could, then turned towards the establishment. That was how I had gotten there. That was how I found myself sitting in front of his tall, muscle of a man. With kind green eyes and light brown hair that fell into his face. His skin was tanned from being in the sun, and there were small scars that dotted his skin in places. And when he moved--when he moved his hands--I saw a hint of tattoos around both of his wrists. And judging by the tattoos that poked out from underneath the collar of his t-shirt, I assumed they ran up both of his arms and covered his chest. Covered the lean muscles that rippled underneath his clothing.

  A strong man.

  But could I trust him?

  My mind said ‘no,’ but for some reason, my heart said ‘yes.’

  After nodding my head, I took one last glass of water in my hands and sipped on it. I was too scared to speak. Too afraid to say anything, for fear that I would anger someone. That was the deal with the cartel. If I talked, it better be to confirm the fact that I’m obeying. Otherwise, talking had deadly consequences.

  “How did you get here?” the man asked.

  My eyes panned up to his, and I felt fear seize my veins. Concern was written all over his face, and he had been nothing but kind since I had walked into the bar. A little flirtatious, sure. But with how handsome he was, it was more a compliment than an annoyance. After being around a bunch of men who I felt were going to take what they wanted from me at any moment, a few nice words about my appearance were a welcomed change.

  But could I tell him everything?

  “I’m Leticia, but everyone calls me ‘Leti,” I said.

  I held out my hand for him to shake and I watched his eyes fall to my offering. When he picked up his hand and slid it into mine, electricity jolted my arm awake. Hairs stood up on the back of my neck. And the hesitation my mind had been experiencing exploded into a million tiny fragments. His long fingers and large palm dwarfed my hand. Like a child holding onto the side of their parent. He shook it with strength and resolve, but a hidden tenderness I found I enjoyed. He was warm. Confident. His hands were callused, but not abrasive.

  “I’m Jace. And whatever you want to tell me, I’m here to listen,” he said.

  And at that moment, I knew I’d tell him everything.

  “The Roja Diablos cartel has me smuggling drugs over the border from Mexico into the U.S.,” I blurted.

  I watched Jace’s face fall stern, and I scooted back onto my chair a bit.

  “Um… it’s kind of a complicated story, I guess. The gist is that the cartel is using the kidnapping of my brother to make me comply,” I said.

  “I’ll need the complicated version if we’re going to help,” Jace said.

  I nodded and took a sip of my water as my eyes fell to his chest.

  “I’m a U.S citizen. My mother was American, and my father was from Mexico. My brother and I were born in the States, but when my mother died giving birth to my brother, things got hard. My father fell into this depression, and trying to battle that without anyone around that we knew was hard.”

  “I’m sorry
to hear that,” he said.

  “We were in California for a little while. And it was nice. But then we moved closer to the border. My father’s depression was worsening, and it was hard for me to pull him out of it. He was only somewhat happy when we would go back to visit our extended family in Mexico. But as my father’s depression got deeper, his will to work and provide for us did as well. So, our finances became tight, and our trips to Mexico became fewer and farther in between. My brother was only ten at the time, and he had to eat. And I never went back to school so I could work.”

  “What happened after that?”

  “The cartel overran Oaxaca a few years later. Thinking back on it now, I think it made my father’s depression even worse, and eventually, he killed himself. Luckily, I was eighteen at the time, so I was able to become the legal guardian for my brother. We struggled for the next several years. But he graduated high school and was taking a year off to help work while I finished up classes at the local community college. Everything was fine until the cartel found us. They kidnapped my brother in order to force me to work for them. And I thought to go through the motions with my handler--Sebastian? --would help keep Nicholas out of the worst of it. And it worked, for a time. But then Sebastian wanted more, and I didn’t want to have sex with him, and I told him that and--.” I felt the tears start to spill over my cheeks.

  “Sh-sh-sh-sh.”

  Jace’s hands came down onto my arms as my tears fell. He smoothed his large hands on my skin, and I drew in a deep breath. I had to stay strong. I had to keep staying strong. Otherwise, I might lose their support and be out on my own again. And I had already come so far.

  I couldn’t blow it now.

  “I had heard of Sebastian before. Everyone in my family’s small town had. I was always on the lookout, but since we lived in the States, I never thought I had to worry. We weren’t traveling to see our extended family anymore. We hadn’t even been to Mexico in years. So, I let my guard down, because I thought we would be safe. But one day, on my way home from work, I was stopped in the middle of the street. Sebastian told me that my father had debts that were owed to the cartel. Not believing him, I tried to walk away, but a gun was pushed into my back. He warned me that my brother’s life was on the line and that I would have to do what exactly what he said.”