Aching to Exhale (2 page)

Crystal disappeared behind the cinder block wall of the restroom facilities. He pulled out his phone and punched in his contact's number from memory.

"7-4-2-9-8-1," he said, reporting his clearance code.

He waited for the connection to go through and turned his back to the restrooms. When his contact picked up, Raul said, "Change of plans. I picked up Crystal Rose and we're heading back to the Lagsturns' club. ETA: Four hours. I'll try to check in next week."

"Do you want me to run intel again on Ms. Rose?" His contact asked.

"No." He looked toward the bathrooms and disconnected the call.

He'd rode with the Lagsturns eight years, four of those as president when he led a revolt and upturned the last leader to gain control of the outlaw motorcycle club. He'd dedicated his career to linking the major heroin supply coming in from Mexico to the sex trafficking going on in the Pacific Northwest, and taking him out.

As of yet, no one suspected him of being a federal agent. There were narrow escapes and scares along the way, but he was still alive.

No one in Lagsturns knew him as FBI Agent Sanchez. He'd proven himself, done things he wasn't proud of, and plunged into a lifestyle he understood. Though he wasn't proud of his contributions on the other side of the law, he accepted every illegal action and morally wrong activity he'd participated in. Breaking the law came second nature these days, much like upholding justice flowed through his veins.

Then last month, he'd finally come face to face with the middleman for the Mexican Mafia. Guillermo Garcia.

He rounded the corner to retrieve Crystal from the woman's restroom when she came outside. She stiffened when she almost ran into him, and he put out his hand to steady her. His biggest regret stood in front of him scared to death, and it killed him to know he was the man who'd made her afraid.

"I was coming to get you. It's time to go," he said, leading her back to the Harley.

She followed him without a word. Her lack of complaint bothered him more than if she'd put up a fight. He placed his hand on her back, wishing his leather coat she wore was gone and he could feel her heat. Usually spirited and overemotional, she always kept him alert, if not entertained. Hell, she brought sunshine, laughter, and normalcy to his life.

Not much, in his experience, got her down. Except for rejection, and he'd done that to her too. Then he'd stood back as he watched her spiral out of control.

He passed her the helmet, straddled the Harley, and held her hand as she climbed behind him. He reached for the handlebar when she grabbed his arm and stopped him.

She dropped her hand from his arm. "Just so you know, taking me back to the Lagsturns will probably get me killed. If you can live with that, then go ahead and take me. But, I beg you, leave me here, and I'll have a chance to live. Please, Raul, if you ever cared about me even a little, don't take me back."

"You're blowing the situation up, like normal." He gazed over his shoulder. "When we get to the club, you'll tell me why you believe someone's aiming for you and we'll talk. Now is not the time. When we arrive, you'll stay with me as my woman. The men will know this, and won't question me. But—and listen carefully—if you step away from me, get on someone else's bike, you're on your own. Do you understand me?"

She nodded. "Can't we talk here?"

"Running out of time," he said. "Whatever you have to say will wait."

She racked her teeth over her bottom lip. "I never stepped away from you when I was your woman."

"Afterward you did," he said, lowering his voice. "Let's not forget how you went with Ethan Cramwell when I sent you out of the club. You went to his bed. You fucked him."

"It wasn't like that! I had nowhere else to go, and Ethan asked me to stay with him. He might not be a Lagsturns member, but he worked for the club." She leaned forward. "I never wanted to leave with him, but you sent me away. I had no one. The Lagsturns were afraid to help me, not that they would."

He stared at her for an extra beat. "Don't play me, Crystal. I'm the one who taught you everything you know."

She clamped her lips shut. He turned around, started the engine, and made a loop, speeding off to the entrance ramp onto I-5. He'd gone almost a year thinking the Mafia got to her, and she was dead. He was not letting her go again.

Garcia had known where she was the whole time, and he wasn't giving that bastard another chance at her, not while activity heated the road and the club. He lifted his fingers off the throttle, forcing himself to ease up. He was so close to putting an end to it all, he could taste it.

The shipments coming out of Mexico were now arriving regularly, and more girls were loaded out of the states with every trip. With a little more time, he'd have enough information and contact to shut the whole supply down from reaching the United States and save more women from slavery. At least until the drug lords found another way to import the blow.

Two problems lay in front of him. One, when he met Garcia, he saw something in the other man's eyes that put him on edge. Either Garcia had fingers in the FBI's database, or he had a scent for someone wearing a badge. Two, Ethan Cramwell had pulled Crystal into the business after Raul kicked her out. At the last meeting, Garcia informed him Crystal was alive and he'd pay anything to get her.

Raul had rode hard, straight to Palm Springs to drop off a load for Garcia, and found out his info on Crystal's location was correct. He ran his tongue across his teeth. His body still shook after seeing her after all this time of believing she was dead.

This time, he wouldn't allow anyone or his case to get in the way. Crystal was his woman, and he'd kill anyone who took her from him. It took losing her to learn she was his world.

Their relationship wasn't an easy one, but when it was good, it was the best thing he'd ever experienced and twice as much more than he deserved.

Four and a half hours later, he stopped again to let her walk around and stretch her legs. He'd held off resting, until her squirming started to cause him discomfort on the ride. The damn girl only had to rub on him, and he was rock hard and wanting her.

At least her discomfort from sitting on the bitch seat told him a little about what she'd been up to in her absence. If she was with another man, he wasn't a rider. She never had problems on long rides with him before, and she was out of condition.

"Only a couple of hours left and we'll be home." He dug into his pocket and cussed. He'd smoked his last cigarette before going through the back door of the lounge to get Crystal.

Crystal smirked and turned around. He tilted his head and studied her. "You think that's funny?"

She shrugged. "I'm not talking to you."

"You're talking now." He sat sideways on the bike and stretched his legs straight out.

She glanced at him. "Just because you're talking."

"You have something to say, say it," he said.

She walked over, picked up the helmet on the ground, and slipped it on. "You won't listen to anything I have to say, so no, I'm not going to say it."

He grinned. Hell, she was funny. "Then shut up, and get on my bike."

The rest of their ride was uneventful and they caught up with the two escorts from the Lagsturns a couple of miles away from the club. He rode through the formation and led them the rest of the way to the building they owned sandwiched between a Chinese restaurant and Stoggy's Bar.

The air around the club brought him comfort. He inhaled and relaxed. A cold beer and some sweet and sour chicken sounded better than sleep.

Scott, one of the three prospects, pushed the chain link gate to the back lot open. Raul lifted his finger and rode on by, parking in the number one spot designated for him as president of the Southern Oregon charter. He was home.

The two story brick building with five rooms upstairs, one of them his, and the downstairs converted into a huge party room with bar and darts on one of the walls took up the whole building. Most of the riders preferred crashing at the Roadside Motel ran by Jones' old lady. Having Lagsturns in the city and on the edge of town provided enough protection they could keep any rival clubs from poaching their territory.

Crystal handed him her helmet and he tagged her hand, steadying her as she climbed off his Harley. He swept his hair off his forehead. There'd be no questions from the others on what she was doing here. Far as anyone knew, he'd found her and brought her back to be his woman.

Inside the main room of the club, the other members, who'd stayed behind while he took the first riders with him on the road, stopped all conversations and turned toward him. He pulled Crystal along beside him.

"Job's complete. We're back on schedule." He looked them all in the eye, working his way through the room, left to right. "Crystals with me. You have a problem with that, bring it up tonight at the meeting. Seven o'clock. Let the others know."

"Sure, Prez," voiced a few of the members. Everyone else nodded in acknowledgement.

He walked through the room, took the back stairs, and pushed through the first door on the right into his room. He'd ridden fuck-knows-how-many miles with the biggest hard-on of his life, and he wasn't in a good mood.

He pointed to the bed. "Sit."

Crystal hurried over and sat. Her compliance pissed him off even more. What the hell happened to her after she left him to take the fight out of her?

Chapter Three

In Raul's upstairs room, dirty dishes covered the top of the dresser, clothes lay scattered over every available surface, and a dozen or more empty beer bottles lined the floor at the foot of the unmade bed. Crystal kept her gaze on Raul, but soaked in every detail about the space they'd shared together as if she'd never seen, cleaned, and lived in the room for months. The disarray appalled her.

Instead of the citrusy smell of the two candles— the kind she always kept going in the evenings next to the bed— the scent of cigarette smoke and stale beer lay heavy in the room. She wrinkled her nose. What had Raul been doing that he'd let the place become a dump?

The only thing that remained from her stay were two tickets to see Kid Rock in concert that she'd thumbtacked to the headboard to remind them of the first time they made love. She swallowed hard. The room certainly wasn't a home, but while she'd stayed with him, she'd kept the place picked up and organized.

"Talk." Raul swung his arm, knocking off the bags piled on a wooden chair, and then threw his leg over the seat and sat on it backward, facing her. "Now's your chance. You want to tell me why you believe someone is trying to kill you, tell me everything."

She shoved her hands between her thighs, gripping onto the extra material of Raul's jeans she wore. They'd been apart for almost a year. Would he still believe her?

"Crystal?" Raul said, leaning his arms over the back of the chair and clasping his hands. "Who is trying to kill you?"

She stood, grabbing the material at her hips to keep the pants up. "If I tell you, will you let me go?"

He shook his head. She looked away. Tomorrow, the club would kick her out anyway when she confessed to everything she knew.

"It's Ethan," she said, sitting back down on the bed. "He's mixed up in some bad shit, and he's put me right into the middle of it by ratting me out and using me as leverage for something that has nothing to do with me."

"Ethan Cramwell?" Raul tilted his head and frowned. "He's not a Lagsturns member."

"Yeah, I know, but the Lagsturns protected him. You can't deny that." She blew out her breath. "He's crazy. I'm talking off the wall nuts, and wrapped up tight with some folks doing things even the Lagsturns would refuse to do."

"That's what happens when you spend all your time snorting dummy dust or shooting blow in your veins. You're not telling me anything I don't know," he said.

How was she supposed to tell him she'd gone along on one of the deals when Ethan met with a guy named Guillermo and she had no idea until they were walking away that her life was put up as collateral against Ethan coming through on transporting the deliveries to the designated buyer? She rubbed the shallow spot on her neck. She'd tried everything to convince Ethan to let her leave and not involve her, but because he was too loaded, too self-centered, too greedy, she couldn't make him do anything.

"He used me as a sign of good faith…insurance, whatever you want to call it. Ethan had to deliver the drugs. If he failed, I'd be the one killed by this guy he was talking with or one of his men. I was the only thing worth any value to Ethan, according to his boss I met. They even talked about framing the Lagsturns and coming after you. That's why I kept trying to contact Rain. I knew someone was watching me. I didn't want to lead them to you, and the only thing I could think of to do was contact your enemy, hoping somehow you'd hear about it. Anyway, when the date rolled around to do the deal, Ethan flaked, and before I could warn you and get out of town, one of the Bantorus members shoved a fist full of money at me and set me on the bus." She glanced at Raul. "I think the Bantorus MC saved my life, because Ethan's boss wanted me dead. I've been hiding out in Palm Springs ever since."

"What's the man's name that dealt with Cramwell?" Raul stood and moved the chair out of the center of the room.

"Um…Guillermo. I don't know his last name. I don't think anyone ever said it in front of me." She rose from the bed and approached Raul. "I've told you all I know. I can't stay here in the same town. That guy has other Lagsturns who work for him, it wasn't only Ethan, and now I've put you in danger by telling you this much."

Her part in Ethan's business fell on her shoulders and she accepted the role she played and the decisions she made. She let her chin fall to her chest. Not having anywhere else to go, she had to find someone who'd put her up, and she was selfish enough to want to stay close to the Lagsturns. That was the only reason she took Ethan up on his offer to crash with him. She wanted to stay close to Raul.

As long as she continued going by Crystal Rose and stayed alive, she could do no more than keep her love to herself, for both their sakes. Raul deserved more from her, but she'd dug herself into a hole and she had no way out. It wasn't simple for her to support herself all alone. There were only a few jobs available to her where they'd pay her under the table and she'd leave no trace. Dancing for dirty dollar bills and serving beer at the seediest bars kept a roof over her head and kept her away from polite society.