It’s been four days since I tasted Sierra, and I still can’t get her out of my mind. Those supple thighs writhing underneath me, the strands of her hair, her piercing eyes, her lips parting to my fingertip… She’s a record on repeat, and nothing I do seems to keep that record from spinning. Three straight nights of dreams where I tie her to a bedpost in the desert and fuck her hard have caused me to wake up both satisfied and with longing.
It’s not as if I haven’t tried to stop thinking of her. After she basically gave me the f-off, I went back to the clubhouse and told myself to take someone else. Because I had called the meeting hours earlier, there were plenty to choose from. And whenever I walk in, I can almost guarantee that the buffet of girls will be coming straight towards me.
That night, as Theresa slithered onto the back of my bike and tossed her clothes over the side of my mattress, I found myself regretting every move for the first time in my life. I got the job done, but it wasn’t without my eyes closed, as I thought of Sierra’s body wrapped in my warm arms. And when I finished, Theresa was dismissed without a second thought. I just couldn’t bear to stare at her when there was better flesh to think of.
After that night, I have become obsessed over finding the person attempting to frame me for Sierra’s roommate’s attack. I have spent hours combing over the details, including the limited amount of clues Skeeter, our resident computer nerd, could get off of Sierra’s tablet. The only new information we could come up with, is that she was meeting a friend in from Mexico after she was done at her brother and sister-in-law’s home.
But she managed to keep the name locked, and there was no trace of him in her emails, messages, or social media pages. It was like chasing a ghost down, with the only person with the right information totally unable to talk. We didn’t find anything about a man from Mexico when we did a review of the current and suspected Aztec pledges.
I sent my best guys out to do some digging for me in the trenches. They crossed territories to talk to dealers, movers, and pushers. Any friendly riders we could find that were in the know were questioned extensively about Mexican riders who may have known Carmen or Anthony. But as of today, no one was giving anything away.
So tonight, I’m heading back to the source. I have sent guys to the hospital regularly, but each of them have been spotted by Aztecs paying tribute to their fallen lady. And while the hospital was neutral grounds, I knew that I was close to starting a battle in exactly the wrong spot. I didn’t need my men to talk to Carmen or her brother. I needed them to get to the man outside the door. My police officer insider is still stationed outside Carmen’s hospital bed, and I know he’s willing to let some things slip to me if I bring the right compensation.
As I packed the grand—all in freshly printed and unmarked twenties—in the secret cuff of my riding jacket, I started to have second thoughts. I could send any guy to do this job. Rafael, the head Apache spy, was the best at going undercover. And he knew how to play cops as if they were a grand piano. But I sent him to the opposite end, towards the border to speak with our Mexican affiliates.
And so I left this job for myself. Obviously, I knew that wanting Rafael to hit the Mexican streets was just a small part of it. We had plenty of guys who had contacts with the Guzman clan who could initiate some intel. But I wanted a chance to see her. From what Tiger and Benji have said about their visits, Sierra’s by her bedside every night after class. And with Anthony working nightshifts, riding deliveries for the Aztecs, she’ll most likely be alone, or at least unguarded for a short period of time.
I look down at my phone. It’s just about noon. There’s only one hour left of visiting time at the hospital before the afternoon switch, so I need to act fast. I finish stuffing the bills in my sleeves and head out towards my parked bike. The Harley purrs underneath me as I take off towards the highway with the blue H signs pointing the way.
When I arrive, I sign in at the desk to avoid suspicions. I use an alias, Jack Cannon. No one knows that it’s my real name, at least not in these parts. I almost misspell it as I write it quickly down on one of the red and white visitor pass stickers. The docent points the way towards the elevators, and I pretend to listen as she gives me directions to the new unit Carmen’s been placed in.
Passing the nurses’ station, I duck low, avoiding glances and questions. One older nurse, dressed in seafoam green scrubs doesn’t miss me though. I hear her yell out, “Sir, can I see your visitor’s pass?”
I stop in my place and turn towards her. She eyes the room number written on the pass and checks her clipboard of patient names. “Who are you here to see?”
“Carmen, in room 209, ma’am.” I bat my eyes at her and flex a bit. It usually works with women. It’s something about the dark clothes, blue eyes, and my size that gets them worked up.
But this nurse is doesn’t even look up. She continues questioning me, as if she knows something is up. “I don’t have you on the approved visitor’s list. Are you friend or family?”
I pause, knowing that I have to get this right. But luckily, someone interrupts us. I feel a large pat on the back as someone spins me around. My hand goes straight to my waistband where I’m storing my pistol. But before I can draw, I hear the voice, “My man! What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t in town. Does Anthony know?”
I look down to see Officer Thompson smiling brightly at me. He winks one of his eyes quickly in my direction, as the nurse continues to scan her list of approved visitors. Thompson, an even better actor than I could ever be, reaches over and places a hand on her small stack of papers.
Smoothly, he explains, “Don’t worry Nurse Mary, he’s with the family. Anthony, Carmen’s brother, approved him late last night.” Before she can say another word, he whisks me over to where he stood guard over Carmen’s room. He sits back down on his metal folding chair and stares straight into the room. I can’t see beyond the curtain, but I can hear a familiar voice in the background.
“What are you doing here, Tank? You looking to get yourself killed, because that’s what’s going to happen when that nurse asks Anthony or one of his boys about you.” I’ve known Thompson for years. He’s been an honorary Apache since I gave him his first bribe. He, over all the other pigs in this town, understand motorcycle club culture and the importance of knowing the other side. Luckily, he’s on ours.
“I need info. What’s going on with this girl’s case? Any leads? Anyone in for questioning?” As I finish asking, I lift up the black leather sleeve of my jacket, showing his a small stack of bills. His eyes grow wide as he realizes we’re playing the game.
He stands and begins pacing a bit. I’m guessing he’s trying to look nonchalant, like an officer chatting with a friend he happened to run into, but it’s not working. He actually looks more nervous than ever. “I don’t know anything, Tank. Nothing is coming from the captain to me anymore. It’s like they know that I’m in your pocket or something.” He wipes a bit of sweat from his forehead before adding, “A detective came in yesterday to talk to the girl’s brother. They say they got security feed, but it’s blurry. They wouldn’t tell him what was on it.”
“Why not? Why wouldn’t they tell him in case he could identify the person?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. They may think he’s involved, or they are trying to get him to talk by dangling a carrot. All I know is that he hasn’t ratted any of his guys out, and his story is looking clean or they wouldn’t let him up here.”
“What about other visitors? Any unidentifieds coming through or attempting to get in?” I know Thompson can spot club alliances like the best of them. He knows the markings, the tattoos, the patches, and the colors. The other cops have nothing on him when it comes to this knowledge, but I doubt he shares his secret talents with the rest of the force. He mostly uses it to profit off of us.
“No. The only ones stopping by are her brother and his family, and that roommate—the hot one with the bookbag. She’s in here every night. My partner, Orlando, told me that she was giving him some details when he met with her the day the girl was brought in. Maybe she knows something.” He nods towards the room where I can hear her voice even better now.
My stone face breaks out into a bit of a smile. This was exactly what I wanted when I laid this plan out. I turn back to Thompson and quickly run my hand up my sleeve, retrieving the thousand dollars and placing it in his back pocket as I slap his back in a quick, man-approved embrace. As I pull him in closer, I whisper my command, “I need about twenty minutes. Don’t let anyone in, got it?”
Before anyone else can come down the hallway and stop me, I slip through the open door and past the curtain. My feet stop as I see Sierra. She’s dressed in a red sundress that hugs the curve of her ass. As she bends over Carmen’s bed to fix her blankets, I watch with my mouth drop open, as waves of her hair fall over her large breasts. I don’t want to break this moment. I could sit here and watch her all day long, but my time is precious. I clear my voice loudly.
Even with my warning, I manage to startle her as she slips back to the foot of Carmen’s bed. She turns my way, looking at me with stunned, glossy eyes from top to bottom. Her voice is breathless as she asks, “What the hell are you doing here? How did you get past the guard?”
“I know him. He’s with me.”
She cuts me off, as she crosses her arms and rolls her eyes dramatically. “Of course he is. I should have known.”
I walk towards her as she takes a few steps back. She crosses in front of Carmen’s bed as if she is protecting her. Her arms wrap around the metal bedposts holding the patient in. As I take another step, she stiffens her chin and looks me directly into the eye. “I don’t want you here. I don’t want you anywhere near here. Please don’t make me scream.”
“I’m not here to hurt you, or her. I’m here to talk to you about some information my guys got about her.”
“Oh, from the tablet you stole from her bedroom? You didn’t think I wouldn’t notice that it was missing or that you left the door open to her room? I’m sure the cops that aren’t being paid by you will love to know that you are tampering with evidence.”
“For fuck’s sake!” I say, exasperated with this. “I’m trying to help you and her out. You think I go around investigating beaten girls every day? Fuck no. I’m doing this because some asshole thinks he can frame me and the Apaches for this and run my name through the mud. Whatever I choose to share with you is me being nice to you.”
“Nice? You call seducing me ‘nice?’ Go look it up in a dictionary…if you even know what one is.”
My hands clench up in a fist. This girl is testing my patience. Even with a body like hers and two lips that taste just like rain, I can’t ignore the fact that she is pressing every single button I have. I pound my feet as I walk right up to her and place a finger to her forehead. “Listen, lady. I don’t do ‘nice’ most days, and I certainly don’t have to do it tonight. But if you think that you can—”
My phone begins to ring, breaking up the conversation. Both of us break our death stares and move to our corners. She returns to Carmen’s bedside, as she adjusts some pillows while I take the call.
“Tank here,” I say gruffly into the receiver. “The fuck is going on?”
“It’s Rafael. I’m here with Guzman. He’s got info on the girl he thinks you may want to know. But he won’t talk to me. He wants to see you in person.”
“Tell that little prick that you speak for me.” I’m beyond annoyed at this. I sent Rafael for answers, not to make this even more complicated than it has to be.
“I tried, sir. I really did. But he’s not budging. He wants to do a business deal when you come. And he wants you to be here by this evening. What should I tell him?”
I look over towards Sierra who is reading a textbook out loud. I catch her eye as I speak into the receiver. “Tell Guzman that I’ll be there. But whatever info he’s got, it better be good.”
Without another word, I hang up the phone and walk towards Sierra. Grabbing her by the arm, I drag her and her bookbag out of the room. Once we’re past the nurses’ station, she starts to break away from me. “Where do you think you are taking me? You can’t do this!”
“Shut up, Sierra.” I hold onto her tighter as we get into the elevator. “If you want to know what happened to your friend, you have to come with me.”
“What? Why?” She looks at me in terror, as I pull out the gun from my waistband and stick it into the pocket of my leather jacket. “Where are you taking me?”
“Mexico. We’re going to go see a guy who knows who did this.”