Dark Temptation (Dark Saints MC Book 2)(37)

I picked up my phone.

“Maddox, Benz here, yeah, meeting’s over. They’re headed back to Port Az with a trunk full.” I gave him the vehicle description.

Maddox and Domino, two of my brothers, would track the vehicle and its contents. The operation was expensive. That was for damn sure. But we’d voted on every aspect of it.

The MC was going to contain and control.

I sent the picture of the meet up to Bear.

I drove back and parked the family van at the shop.

It was there for an oil change or some shit. The actual family would have no idea they were helping keep New Jack Swing off the streets by allowing a little drive.

I threw the keys to Moose.

“Thanks, kid. All done. Make sure it’s detailed.”

“Yep, gotcha Benz.”

I walked into the club and back to Bear’s office. I guessed we were okay.

He’d tried to make things right with us. I tried to be my old self.

For six months I’d done nothing but club business. I kept my nose out of everything else. I didn’t have a taste for it.

At all. I didn’t know if I ever would again.

I sat down and Bear was looking at his phone.

“Well, this is going to be a shit show.”

“Yeah? Is that who I think it is?”

“If you’re thinking it is Ricardo Pilar, then yes.”

“Yeah, a South American boss right outside of Port Az.”

“We’ll handle it.”

“Yep.” I didn’t have time or interest in any other conversation. With anyone.

“Look. You’ve been a real dick since, well, since that girl.”

“A dick?” I supposed it was true.

“You don’t have a drink with us at all. You ride for hours, alone. Even Axle is worried about it.”

“You sound like an old lady.”

“Yeah? Well, that’s the fucking point I guess. You’re still thinking about Jen, aren’t you?”

“It’s really not your issue. You were right about me not getting tangled up with her any more than I was. I’m fine.”

“Look. I’m sorry. I fucked up. I shouldn’t have ordered you to kill her. We passed that yet?” Bear’s capacity for saying ‘I’m sorry’ was low. I appreciated the effort he was putting in.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Axle, Mama Bear, Kade, they’re all up my ass about you.”

“Are we done?” I said sharply.

“Yeah. We’re done,” Bear sighed.

I had given up Jen.

I had done everything to protect her and the club. I had gone against Bear. It had been the right thing.

But I was dead inside. Bear knew it and so did my brothers.

I had no idea how to change that.

I rode, worked on club business, and watched the hours tick down to night. That was my life since I’d pushed Jen out.

It was probably going to be my life for the rest of it until one of my runs on club business got me killed.

Dying for the club. That was what I was looking forward to.





23





Jen



The box had been delivered while I was at work.

My landlady had signed for it. It was large. I hadn’t ordered anything.

I examined the post mark, Port Az, Texas. What the ever-loving hell?

I’d been trying not to think of Port Az.

I had worked to put things with Benz behind me.

I wasn’t the stalker type, it turned out. When he cut me loose, I didn’t try to change it. Apart from going to his apartment that one time, I’d accepted that he was done with me.

I had spent my time trying to forget.

But I couldn’t forget. Every night I dreamed about going back. I dreamed about Benz.

Nothing in Abilene or Austin had any real interest for me.

Somehow, even becoming a Ranger, the goal that had fueled my ambitions before, was in the background of my life.

I spent my days finishing out the research I’d been hired to do. I had the history of the Texas Rangers in Port Az fully documented and cataloged.

It wasn’t police work, but Paul Laraby said it was important. He said that if I kept doing desk work, soon I’d get to do traffic duty.

And if I did traffic duty for a few years, they’d promote me to warrants. And then maybe they’d consider me for the Rangers.

Eight or more years of issuing traffic tickets. It felt like a life sentence.

I thought about Port Az and the people who lived there.

I thought about Benz, no matter how hard I tried to shut it out. The cabin came back to me. The tour of Port Az on the back of his bike rolled through my mind anytime I looked at the water.

Who was sending me something from Port Az now?

I cut the packing tape holding the box shut.

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. It was an ancient-looking safety deposit box.

Holy shit.

There was a note taped to the top with a phone number I didn’t recognize. There was also a key.

I opened the box.

The contents looked a lot like some of the things I’d found in the history section of the Port Az library.

Except I’d never seen any of this before. This was from someone’s private collection.