Property of Drex (Book 2) (Death Chasers MC Series) Page 3

  “They’re all yours.” I wave my hand for emphasis, and a cold smile curves the corners of his lips.

  “How do we keep this all below Herrin’s nose without letting him sniff it?” Sledge asks, clearly shifting his loyalties from Pop to me.

  Doing this divides the club. Doing this is borderline treason amongst our crew. Doing this will change everything.

  “You know Herrin won’t let us handle this the right way. He’s only concerned with self-preservation right now,” Rush quickly points out, as though he’s adding a little extra incentive to keep everyone in this lane. “He might even make a deal with the Hell Breathers behind our backs to ensure peace, since your girl was obviously not the peace token she was presented as. Benny has gotten ballsy, and he’s got someone smarter calling the shots now.”

  I take a steadying breath, preparing to do something I never thought I would—turn on my father.

  “We handle this quietly. Pop isn’t here much. It shouldn’t be hard. We’ll send all his loyalists to live with him if they feel like leaving their lives in his hands. But I have a feeling he lost more than he realizes tonight.”

  Rush glances at Sledge, but Axle speaks before he can.

  “That’s what happens when you leave your son blind to a slaughter. They all know it could have been any one of them, but for Herrin to risk sacrificing you, his own son… It tells them he’s not looking out for anyone but himself. There was no good reason for us not to know.”

  Dash speaks for the first time since I saw him at the hospital. “And he caused conflict amongst our group. Even went so far as to put Drex’s girl under suspicion. He’s still doing it just to throw heat off him for what he did. Herrin has gotten shady.”

  “He’s been shady,” Rush mutters, not looking at me. “You’re all just finally fucking seeing the truth.”

  The feds are closing in, Hell Breathers are finally seeking revenge, and Pop just pissed off the only people he had at his back.

  Chapter 5

  EVE

  I’ve been pacing Drex’s room for hours. They’ve been downstairs, talking about the attack for a while. It makes me nervous.

  I haven’t forgotten they were threatening to kill me not too long ago. I also didn’t miss the fact they didn’t let me hang out with Drake, who is my one and only friend in this place.

  Yes. Friend. You form a bond quickly with someone when you get shot at and then he helps you run for your life from two motorcycle clubs. Fucking eh.

  The door opens, and my breath halts until I see Drex walking in. His eyes rake down my body, and a slow, wicked grin forms when he sees I’m only wearing his shirt.

  All of my clothes were burned—at his house. Since they had all been delivered there for me before we even arrived.

  All I have left are the clothes I was wearing. And they’re disgusting.

  He walks over, still wearing that devilish smile, which forces my stupid heart to flutter like a fool, and he fingers a lock of my still-damp hair from the second shower I took after getting here.

  “You trying to look like a wet dream?” he muses.

  “I was getting worried. That took a while. And I have no clothes.”

  His eyebrows wag, and I roll my eyes. This is the worst time in the world for him to suddenly feel playful.

  “We’ll buy you some more clothes. Soon. I kind of like the idea of you walking around in my shirts until then. I’m guessing you don’t have any underwear either?”

  His eyes dance with that same playfulness, and I bite back the smile he’s trying to force out of me for some reason. I never put my bra on when Drake showed up, and obviously I didn’t grab it after they shot the house up.

  “Only one pair of panties,” I admit, and he grins bigger when he reaches his hand under the shirt I’m wearing and discovers they’re not on.

  His hands roam over my bare ass, groping and possessing. I lean into him, feeling safe again as I wrap my arms around his waist.

  This feels different. It’s not the same as it was a few days ago. It feels like he’s actually mine now, and this feels so much more… real.

  “I could get used to this. No underwear, no clothes… It’s like you’re my own personal little dirty secret and you can’t go anywhere,” he jokes, which prompts me to actually laugh.

  “That meeting must have been really productive if you’re in such a good mood.”

  He tenses under my touch, and that immediately sours the playful air for me.

  “What happened?” I ask, peering up at him. “Never mind,” I add quickly. “I don’t want to know. It’ll just make it look like I’m spying.”

  He shrugs as though it’s no big deal. “Pop might think you are, but I don’t. Neither do my boys. We’re handling things. In the meantime, I’m keeping you out of Pop’s path.”

  I don’t know if that’s supposed to comfort me or scare me. The president of the killers thinks I’m a spy that deserves to die.

  There’s no happy place to go to right now that will make that go away.

  “Don’t worry, baby. I’ve got you. Trust me.”

  Trust. That word is the crux of our relationship. At least it’s finally a relationship.

  He bends, brushing his lips against mine, showing me that tenderness that I never thought he was capable of.

  And the crazy thing is that I do trust him. With my life.

  He catches my wrist, bringing it around so that he can see it, and anger flashes across his face when his eyes narrow on the fingerprint bruises Dash left behind.

  “I should have hit him harder,” he says under his breath.

  I start to question it, when a knock sounds at the door. It’s late… or early… depending on how you look at it. After the chaos the last twenty-four hours has divvied out, I jump.

  Drex sighs. “I told you to trust me. It’s just Axle.”

  He kisses the marks on my arm, before moving to answer the door. Sure enough, Axle walks in, completely avoiding glancing in my direction while he focuses on Drex.

  “The feds are hanging back around Herrin and his men. They’re not posting up outside anymore. Apparently their focus has returned to only him and the north warehouse. And some of the guys who’ve been sleeping are taking the first shift.”

  Drex nods, not seeming to care that I’m overhearing this. I move to the bed, wrapping up in the soft covers and hiding my bare legs.

  “Eve needs to go shopping tomorrow for some new clothes. I’m giving her my card. Make sure she has a ride.”

  That surprises me.

  “Do you want someone to drive her, or do you want me just to score her some keys.”

  Drex looks at me, winks, then returns his attention to Axle. “Just get her some keys.”

  He’s letting me leave? With keys? No chaperone?

  Something so small shouldn’t thrill me, but it does. It’s trust. He trusts me. Then, panic sets in.

  “What if they attack me like they did you?”

  Drex and Axle both look at me this time. Drex frowns, but Axle is the one to speak.

  “They won’t,” Axle tells me. “Drex was the target. This hasn’t got anything to do with you, but some of the guys will be in town. We’ve already gotten you a new phone. Benny isn’t stupid enough to strike in public. Our guys will follow you into town, then you go shop while they go work. You can call us when you’re ready to head back if you don’t want to drive out here on your own.”

  That’s a lot more freedom than I’ve been having. Maybe Drex finally does believe me. Most importantly, he trusts me.

  I actually smile—much too big—and Axle hands Drex a phone that I assume must be my new one.

  “You can’t come with me?” I ask Drex, already willing to cede my freedom if it means I get some alone time with him outside of this damn warehouse and his friends. I loved our time alone in his home.

  His eyes… I really love those blue eyes when they’re soft instead of hard. And I really love the way he’s looking at me ri
ght now.

  “I would, but I have a lot to do this week. All week. I won’t be getting out much. And it’d be dangerous for me to be out with you right now. I don’t want you put at risk because I have a bounty on my head.”

  That definitely kills my smile.

  “I can just stay here. It’s not like I want to venture below, so not having any clothes isn’t a big deal.”

  Drex’s smile is quick, but just as brief when he banishes it. Axle rolls his eyes as though he doesn’t want to be in here anymore. Just knowing he trusts me to go out on my own is enough.

  “As nice as that sounds, I’m going to be downstairs a lot, and I want you to be able to come down with me. If you wear your prissy shit, the guys won’t take you seriously. Besides, I need to be showing off your new ink so that word spreads throughout the club how mine you are now.”

  Sighing, I shrug. “Okay then. I’ll get clothes tomorrow.”

  He nods once, then turns back to Axle, explaining the schedule. Axle leaves without looking my way again, and Drex shuts the door behind him.

  “You’re sure I don’t have to worry about Benny?”

  He slowly shakes his head. “Benny won’t attack in public. Besides, he invested a lot of bank for you. If anything, he’d approach you instead of attack you.”

  My brow furrows.

  “Why would he approach me? I hate him and he knows it.”

  He smirks as he walks toward me. “Spoken like a true Death Dealer.”

  That has me resisting the urge to roll my eyes.

  He settles onto the bed next to me, tugging his shirt over his head before slipping out of his jeans. Once he’s down to his boxers, he pulls me to him. The fingers on my right hand absently toy with one of the barbells in his nipple, while he stares up at the ceiling.

  “Benny wants to know about details of our business—how we do what we do. I don’t know how long he’s been asking questions, but Drake told us a lot tonight. He knows we fix cars to conceal things that can’t be detected. Dogs can’t sniff anything out, x-ray devices are tricked, and compartments are hidden too well for the casual search to reveal. Not just SUVs, but bigger rides too. It helps smuggle bulk quantities of things across the border without the risk. You can’t exactly drive a container full of weapons or drugs around and hope to not get caught. So you split up the loads between ten or more vehicles that are equipped to carry large amounts. Apparently Benny wants his bite of the business, because it’s a lucrative business.”

  I still against him. “I don’t want to know this stuff.”

  He laughs bitterly, a soft sound that is actually a little depressing.

  “It’s not technically illegal,” he goes on, acting as though I didn’t just say anything. “We play in a gray area, but they’d find a way to prosecute us for aiding and abetting. Dash designed a system to fool the x-ray machine. I concocted the device that fools the canine units. And Axle is the genius behind the hidden compartments. Before this, Pop was pushing drugs, transporting them, and assuming a lot of risks.”

  I flick his nipple bar a little harder, almost pinching it to silence him.

  “I said I don’t want to know this. It’s better if I don’t. That way they can’t assume I’ve told someone if anyone finds out.”

  The smile that blooms across his face is confusing. “I know you don’t want to know, but I’m trying to trust you. This isn’t something just anyone learns. It’s not like I’m telling you the formula for success; only the guys and I know it.”

  My twisted heart swells with a touch of excitement and pride. He wants to trust me. He already trusts me enough to tell me something as major as this.

  He continues while sliding his hand up my leg, dragging it across his waist.

  “Considering my mom was a junkie, I wanted Pop away from actual drugs and all temptation. He uses on occasion, but he’s never grown an addiction to it. Before you say that’s impossible, that’s not true. It’s rare, but some are immune to forming addictions. In fact, they get high off the power they have over denying the drug. Pop is more addicted to power than anything someone can manufacture.”

  I kiss his chest, wishing I could empathize, but this isn’t how I was raised. Even though my father was apparently a little more jaded than I realized.

  “Axle, Dash, and I worked on this for a couple of years when we were teenagers. Snake helps us with the installs. I met Dash and Snake in detention… school detention.”

  He laughs as though it’s a pleasant memory. “We became instant friends. Then I met Axle in an actual detention center during the short period I was there after I got busted for beating the shit out of a kid my age. I was fifteen at the time. So was Axle. He came to live with us after he got out at sixteen.”

  At fifteen I was drawing in my sketchbook to let off steam and blushing if someone cursed in front of me. I don’t mention that though. It makes me sound ridiculously out of place.

  “Dash is a tech genius. He could have gone somewhere, been something. He taught me a lot, which gave me the knowledge to create a few of my own inventions, such as with the vehicles. Axle is brilliant, and he’s excellent at mapping out the perfect way to put hiding spots in places where hiding spots shouldn’t be. It’s what we do now. No more transporting drugs. No more transporting weapons. We just tweak the vehicles they have for different runs across the border. The ones most concerned with staying out of prison and keeping their stash, are the ones spending bank to keep making it happen.”

  It’s a lot to take in. In fact, it’s an entirely different language. Transporting drugs and weapons? It definitely sickens me.

  And he’s telling me all about it. Despite the wrongness of it all, I’m still curled up in danger’s arms.

  “So Axle, Dash, and Snake are your best friends?” I ask, moving the topic away from all the illegal stuff.

  He shifts, pushing me so that I’m on my back, and he slowly starts working my shirt up. It’s all I have on, so my lower half is bare to him.

  “Yes. But my version of friends is different from yours. You grew up sharing secrets. We grew up killing to keep secrets.”

  My eyes widen, and he studies me intensely. I’m not sure if it’s a threat or just a candid statement.

  Shakily, I exhale, still trying not to freak out. Drex is the kind of guy I should run from, yet I keep running to him. I’d like to blame some psychological breakdown, but I know my mind has nothing to do with the feelings I have for him.

  “Axle scares me,” I tell him randomly. At this, he freaking laughs. Loudly.

  I’m not laughing.

  “I’m sure he does,” he says through his chuckles. “The scars on his face freak people out. You should see the ones he sports under his shirt. But most people think I’m the scariest one. I have power. And according to most of the guys in the club, I shoot first and think later.”

  I really don’t like having this conversation as though it’s a casual chat about the weather. Drex shed the shackles of morality a long time ago. I still firmly live in a world of right and wrong.

  “Is that true?” I whisper.

  His expression sobers, and he blows out a breath before running his hand up my leg.

  “Mostly,” he confesses. “But at one point in time, I would have let you be killed just for having ties to the traitor who stole from us. Now you’re in my bed; I’m telling you shit I shouldn’t be; and I can’t stomach the thought of anyone else touching you. So apparently it’s not as true as I thought it was.”

  Twisted relief fills me, and a touch of shame joins it. My mind works tirelessly to reconcile the fact I don’t want to leave Drex. It pieces together things that try to make it okay to be a killer, rationalizing it as though it can be logical.

  What if the men he killed were going to kill him? What if they were men who would have done something to someone innocent? What if they were abusive sons of bitches?

  I push the sight of the FBI agent being shot out of my mind. Drex didn’t kill him. Benny
did. But Drex supplied him the incentive to make it happen.

  It’s all spiraling now, but I work hard to keep from getting sucked into the cyclone.

  “You’re trying to justify my actions right now, aren’t you?” Drex asks, proving his perceptiveness is sharper than I realized.

  “Yes,” I answer honestly.

  He smirks, but then he pushes my shirt up and over my head, baring my body to his eyes.

  “Don’t,” he whispers softly. “You’ll go crazy trying to make a saint out of a sinner. And I’m never going to be a saint, baby.”

  He kisses me before I can speak, and everything rolls away except for my need for him. Drex Caine really does own me.

  He pulls back, staring down at me, still treating me with a gentle touch I’m still getting used to from him.

  “Your mom said some shitty things to you that day that pissed me off. You did what you had to, but you didn’t tell her. Why?”

  I shrug, feeling uneasy with talking about this. “She’s a good mom. Hearing what I did to save her and my brothers from destitution wouldn’t go over well. She would have felt guilty and pleaded for me to come home so she could find a way to fix it.”

  He brushes a kiss over my lips with a whisper-soft touch. “And no one else could have fixed it without you doing this?” he pries.

  I don’t know why he’s prying. My life is all in one folder.

  “There was…is an uncle. He’s loaded, but… I never asked him for help.”

  “Why not? Why didn’t your mom ask him for help? And how the fuck do I not know who’s in your family after all the research I’ve done?”

  His exasperation and confusion is actually kind of cute. Obviously I don’t tell him that. Instead, I shrug while tracing some of the tattoos on his arm.

  “Dad apparently buried any trail of him and his link to our family before he ever started working for you. Unless you have someone better than him on your team, you wouldn’t have found anything.”

  It’s crazy to think my father could have solved all our problems with a few keystrokes by simply hacking some rich people’s accounts. Yet he didn’t. Instead, he tried to live an honest life. Or so I thought. Now I’m just confused with the whole deal.