CHAPTER 21

Taz

By the time I made it back to the clubhouse, I was so fucking over this day. Eagle was behind the bar, stocking and cleaning. Great. Our punishment had begun.

“Hey, mate.”

“Hey, yourself. How’d it go?”

I shook my head. “She’s gone. We all knew she wouldn’t choose me.”

Not wanting to discuss it, or hear Eagle’s opinion or sympathy, I kept moving before he could respond. I needed to find Scout, get this shit over with so I could get on with whatever shit job he’d found for me to do. Figuring he’d be in his office, I headed in that direction.

“Hey, prez.”

“Hey, Taz. How’d things go with Gus?”

“As predicted, he was pretty happy to see Flick alive and well. Before she left, Flick asked him about his hatred for all things MC. He has good reason.” I filled him in about Gus’s lost love.

“Well, damn. It explains a lot, though. You set him straight that we’d never let that shit happen?”

“Yeah, told him we’re completely drug-free and if we’d ever heard of something like that happening we’d take care of it. Anyway, as it stands Gus is happy for me to work out there. He signed the paperwork to make me his manager, so we shouldn’t attract too much attention from the authorities with me running the place while he recovers. He still doesn’t want to sell it yet. Says he’s got nothing else to do with himself, so he doesn’t want to let it go.”

“Ask him about the bunker?”

I nodded. “He didn’t know anything about it, but he did admit that he’s never really bothered to deal with the land outside the range. He figured early on that he’d let nature take care of it. He’s happy for us to go search and use whatever we find, so long as we don’t let any of it ever fall back on him.”

Scout nodded. “That’s good. When are you opening up the shop for him?”

“Up to you. I could go this afternoon, or leave it till the morning. It’s only been shut a couple days and Flick’s already put a note on the door saying Gus was in hospital.”

“Okay. Leave it till morning, and I’ll send out a group to start looking for this bunker while you’re running the place. I’m guessing the fucking thing will be below ground and built by some doomsayers. Damn, I hope there’s no fucking traps set on the thing.”

I shrugged. “We’ll deal with it if there are. Gus told me about some of the toys he’s got out there that’ll help us look for it. The boys will have a field day.”

Scout scoffed. “Yeah. I’m sure they will. So, Flick’s left for Dallas?”

I blanked my expression, not wanting to get into it. “We all knew what she was going to fucking do. It wasn’t really a choice.”

Scout sat there staring at me for so long I wanted to squirm, but I held strong. I was a fucking Marine, not some pansy who’d cave at being stared at.

“Fuck me, get out of here. I want to mess with you over this shit, but I feel like I’m kicking a fucking puppy. Go, drown your sorrows tonight, and be ready to work tomorrow.”

With a nod, I took the out and left. On my way to the door, I passed the whore room. I could go in there and bury myself with all the fucking I could handle, but considering my cock was limp in my pants, that wasn’t an option. I shook my head. Even if I was hard, I knew I wouldn’t be going back in that room. Only one woman flipped my switch these days. With a sigh, I headed out to my bike. Maybe I should go see if Silk could fit me in for a new piece. With a chuckle, I scrapped that idea. Knowing Silk, she’d ink a fucking cat on me someplace I couldn’t see what she was doing till it was too late.

I could go fire off a few rounds at the range, but knowing I’d be out there alone had me scrapping that idea too. That left drinking or working out. Since it was still early afternoon, I figured a work out first, then I’d go get shit-faced.

Starting up my bike, I made my way over to the gym, grateful I kept my gear there so I didn’t have to go home first. I started questioning my decision when I strolled out of the locker room and Mac took one look at me and winced. What the fuck? I pointed at him.

“Not a fucking word. I don’t need anyone’s pity or fucking opinion right now.”

His expression cleared into a mask of indifference.

“If you don’t want to talk, how about we head out the back and beat the shit outta each other for a while then?”

That made me smile. “Sounds fucking perfect.”

I followed him toward the rear of the building, through the adjoining door and into the back room. This room hadn’t been touched in the renovation. Where everything out front was smooth, clean lines and modern technology, back here was the opposite. I was pretty sure the ring had been installed by some of the Charon brothers who’d come back from World War II and the bags hanging around the outside of the room looked nearly as old. This room was everything you thought of when you thought about an old-school fight club.

Mac tossed me a pair of gloves and head gear. “Don’t give me shit, insurance demands it.”

I scoffed at him. “Bullshit it’s about insurance. You don’t want to explain to Zara why you’re beat to shit because you got in the ring with me.”

He smirked as he geared up. “Well, yeah, there is that.”

Flick

After heading back to the apartment to pack up the few things I’d brought with me, I drove out of Bridgewater. I’d barely cleared the township when my phone began ringing. Hitting the answer button, I identified myself.

“Vaughn.”

Greg’s voice flowed from my car’s speakers. “What have you got for me?”

Yep, that was my boss. No “how are you,” or “glad to hear you’re in one piece,” just “what have you got for me.”

“I’m coming up to Dallas now to report in person. It’ll be late by the time I get there. So, I can come straight in, or can you wait till morning?”

“Is it safe to wait until morning?”

Oh, now he fucking cared whether I was safe? Typical.

“It’s safe. I want a night in my own damn bed, after a long fucking shower. Then I’ll see you first thing in the morning.”

I ended the call and focused back on the road. I hoped between the four hour drive, and the night in my own bed, I could calm down enough to not simply tell Greg to go fuck himself and walk right back out again. I doubted that would end well for me.

Flipping the radio on, I settled in for the long drive. Maybe I’d figure out what the hell to do with my life by morning too. Because right now, I wasn’t sure what the fuck to do. I’d joined the FBI for two reasons—first, to find my brother, or at least find out what had happened to cause him to disappear from our lives. The second was to help make America a better, safer, place to live. But was that what I was really doing? I wasn’t sure. Most of the time, I was safely tucked away in my office pouring through accounting records of various corporations and individuals. It wasn’t just that I thought I’d find answers about Andrew on this case that had me excited—I was getting out of the office and into the field finally. The real field, where I got to interact with other people, not just sit alone in some high-rise office where I stared at computer screens and ledgers until I discovered whatever crime had been hidden.

Solving corporate crime wasn’t thrilling in any way, shape or form. And who did it help? More often than not, the only one who profited from my work was the IRS. But what else could I do? I guess I could go back to being an accountant in a private firm somewhere.

Or I could do what I actually wanted to do. Go back to Bridgewater and help Uncle Gus run his shop. I certainly had the training to do it. I sighed and changed the radio station, trying to find a station with music, not just a DJ who loved the sound of his own voice way too much. Once I found one, I went back to pondering my life.

When I finally pulled into the parking lot of my apartment building in Dallas, I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open. Deciding against cleaning up first, I headed straight to my bedroom, dumped my bags in the corner, then fell on my bed.

Bright light across my face woke me. I blinked awake to see I hadn’t shut my curtains before crashing. Turned out to be a good thing, because I hadn’t set my alarm either. I probably would have slept half the day away if the sun hadn’t been so kind as to wake me up. Checking the clock, I groaned and forced myself to move. It was already nearly eight am, so I only had about half an hour to get my ass down to headquarters.

After the world’s fastest shower, I pulled on some clean clothes and rushed out the door. Figuring I would make better time on foot, I bypassed the parking lot and headed straight for the busy Dallas streets. I only lived a couple blocks away from the office, so it didn’t take me long to get there, and up to my office. I’d just put away my handbag when the phone on my desk began ringing.

“Vaughn.”

“Great, you’re in. I need to see you right away.”

“Be there in a sec.”

Hanging up, I stopped to take a few deep breaths. I hadn’t had time to plan out what exactly I was going to tell my boss. I glanced around my office. Assuming I wasn’t about to get fired, was I really ready to walk away from this for a man I’d met less than two weeks ago? I shook my head when I added it up. Ten days. It had been ten days since I’d first been given this assignment, and only seven since I’d first met Taz. Talk about explosive, instant chemistry. With a sigh, I headed through the door and over to Greg’s office. Might as well get this shit over with.

Whatever the outcome, I’d deal with it, and get on with my life.

Taz

“Is anyone else getting a sense of déjà vu?”

Eagle chuckled at my comment as he, Mac and I left our bikes and headed into a cafe in Houston.

“I wasn’t surprised when he called. Not after everything that went down. But it should be interesting to hear what he has to say.”

Indeed. Their former CO, Sergeant Major Johnson had called Mac yesterday to request they meet again. It had been the Sergeant Major who’d originally asked them to sign on for the assignment with the FBI, so like Mac, I hadn’t been surprised when he’d called us to meet with him the day after Flick told her boss the three of us had chosen our side, and it wasn’t with the feds.

Straightening my cut, I followed Mac and Eagle through to door to find the Sergeant Major once again standing to greet us.

“Men. Good to see you. Take a seat.”

We followed orders and sat down at the table with him. He’d picked a table toward the back, and I noticed that all the tables around ours were empty. A waitress came and took our orders, then once she was gone, the Sergeant Major’s expression turned serious as he cleared his throat.

“I hear you three have been busy since you got to Bridgewater. Care to fill me in?”

“I think you know already. Flick’s boss called you, didn’t he?”

He nodded slowly. “Yes, I received a call. But I want you three to tell me what’s happened. And you know I have clearance to hear all of it.”

Eagle started it off, recapping how we prospected in and how he fell for Silk. How in protecting her we handed over some information to our FBI handler, only for it fall into the L.A. mob’s hands.

Mac took over next, explaining what went down with the Iron Hammers and Zara. He also pointed out the involvement our FBI handler had in that fucking mess, before he vanished when it was all over. Then it was my turn.

“After all that, and the fact we’d all found our place within the club, we didn’t want to work for the FBI anymore. But we had no fucking clue how to successfully end our arrangement.”

“You call me. That’s how you end this, you call your CO and I handle it. Did any of you think of that?”

Heat crept over my cheeks. I hadn’t. Not once. But we totally should have.

“Sorry, sir.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “So, instead they sent sweet little Felicity Vaughn down to entice you to stay with them.”

The ache in my chest lit up like the Fourth of July. Fuck, it had only been what? Forty-eight hours since I’d last seen her, but damn I missed that woman.

“I wouldn’t call Flick sweet, but yeah, they sent her down to work with me.” I gave him a quick rundown of how the past couple of weeks had rolled out. “In the end, it blew all our covers out of the water. Scout, the Charon’s president, told us if we wanted to stay, then we needed to cut all involvement with the FBI. We told him we would. He told Flick to report that to her boss.”

“So, all three of you are sure you wish to remain with the Charon MC?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you believe Andrew Vaughn will be an issue now he knows where you are?”

Mac shook his head. “He would have heard that we were with the Charons when everything went down with the Iron Hammers. If he didn’t come after us then, he won’t now.”

I spoke to back up Mac’s point. “When we rode up to rescue Flick, Vaughn was with her. He had more than one chance to come at me and he didn’t. Well, other than to warn me to not hurt his sister, that is.”

Sergeant Major frowned as our food was delivered, waiting for the waitress to leave before speaking again.

“I’ll let them know that you three are out, then. If they try to draw you back in, you contact me. Understand? I won’t have them giving my men shit.”

“Yes, sir.”

All three of us spoke at once and I could see the Sergeant Major fighting not to grin at us.

“Old habits die hard, sir.”

“That they do, Lee. That they do.”

Which he was proving, because even though we’d left the USMC, our CO still had our backs and was willing to fight for us. Had to admit, it felt good to have someone not simply toss me away when I’d become a little difficult.