Falling For Crazy (Moroad Motorcycle Club) (13 page)

Read Falling For Crazy (Moroad Motorcycle Club) Online

Authors: Debra Kayn

Tags: #Motorcycle Club romance, #outlaw motorcycle club, #psychological thriller, #Older man younger woman, #Biker Romance book, #gangs, #prison hero, #felon, #prisoner, #mafia, #organized crime, #biker series

BOOK: Falling For Crazy (Moroad Motorcycle Club)
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He reached into his pocket and handed over a handful of coins. When she finished paying, she closed the lid and pushed the lever.

The washer started filling with water. He caught her as she turned and lifted her into the air, and sat her ass down on the washer.

"What are you doing?"

He pushed between her legs and dragged her flush against him. "Just so you know, I could've done the laundry."

"I don't think you've ever seen a washing machine in your life."

"You'd be wrong." He looked down at his hands on her thighs. "I had laundry duty in prison once. It was my reward for following the rules after getting out of solitary."

"You washed clothes?"

His hand stilled and he raised his gaze. "Never got that far. Security came in on my first day and found a dead man in the bin of dirty towels. They sent me back to solitary."

Her muscles tensed under his hands. "You killed him?"

"They couldn't prove it was me. There were four others in the room."

She cupped his face and lifted. "I don't know this side of you."

"You never will." He opened up her hand and fingered the coins. "I can keep club business away from you. You won't have to see how I live and how I can be."

"Crazy?" she said.

He chuckled. "No, that's something you're going to have to see."

Her gaze warmed and she leaned forward and kissed him. The tension in his shoulders eased. She accepted him on the most basic level and he needed her to understand there would be times where he needed to go away, he needed to tend to business, and he needed to get his hands dirty.

He never wanted her to know why he needed to keep moving forward. She'd only want to stop him, and nothing would turn him away from going after Los Li and the Reds member who were responsible for Sarah's death.

He pulled his mouth away from her, licked his lips, and held her gaze. "How long is this going to take?"

She smiled. "Each load will take twenty-five minutes. If you let me down, I can fill another machine. Then they'll all be done at the same time and we can put the two loads together into one dryer. It won't take long."

He lifted her up and set her feet on the floor. "Get to it, woman. Do your thing."

She wiggled her butt and wrinkled her nose. He walked away from her, lighter and at ease. At the front window, he moved a chair to the side of the room, sat with his back against the brick wall, and gazed out onto the street.

The steady hum of the dryer and swishing of water filled his ears. He pushed the sleeves of his T-shirt up to his shoulders. The fucking humid heat in the room mixed with the flowery scents suffocated him. He'd need to talk to Cam about getting a washer and dryer for the motel, because he wasn't coming back to town to sweat in a small room with cameras. He'd had enough heat in prison.

Hell, he'd only experienced the heat and stuffy air when he'd killed one of the fuckers responsible for taking Sarah over the border into Mexico. He'd slashed Jorge's throat with a shiv he'd made out of a piece of Cyclone fence from the exercise yard and his toothbrush.

He'd enjoyed watching the man bleed out.

Amy walked back and joined him, sitting in the chair beside him. He reached over and grabbed her hand, putting it on his leg. His need for revenge never went away. Amy had healed and moved on, keeping her sister's memory alive in her own way.

Memories weren't good enough for him. He wanted to make everyone responsible suffer. Then he wanted to watch them take their last breath.

"It really is hot in here." She stood back up and moved to the window. "Let's open the three windows in front. The back door is already propped open, maybe we can get a breeze going through the room."

He joined her at the window and pried the multiple layers of paint away from the latch. He had two windows done when she pushed the last one up and turned to him smiling. He grinned back and watched her gaze shift to outside and her smile disappeared.

His body tightened. He reached for her at the same time the window shattered. He pulled her to the floor, removing his pistol as he covered her body with his.

There was no sound from the gunshot.

No engine revving.

Nothing but the hum of the dryer and the spin of the washers.

He pulled his head up. "You okay?"

She stared up at him. His heart pounded. Everything happened faster than she could process.

She was anything but okay.

Blood streamed down her forehead soaking into her hair, brighter than her curls. He glanced down at her chest and made sure she breathed. His hand went to the side of her head and pressed down. The warmth of her blood squeezed through his fingers.

"Jacko?" she whispered.

"Hold on." He set his pistol down on the floor and grabbed his phone out of his pocket. His fingers automatically went to Cam's contact number.

Amy closed her eyes. He kissed her lips. "Stay awake, Momma."

"I am." She inhaled, shaking her whole body. "It burns."

"Yeah?" Cam answered the call.

"Send as many men as you can to the Laundromat in town. Amy's shot," he said, staring down into Amy's eyes. "Hurry the fuck up."

He shoved the phone back in his pocket and picked up his pistol. The longer he had to wait, the more blood she'd lose, the farther away the shooter would get, and the more he wanted to kill someone.

He leaned down and pressed his mouth to her ear. "I swear on my life, Momma. Nobody is fucking going to touch you again."

"I hope not," she whispered back.

He looked up, searching for his MC brothers. The wait was over. Los Li found them.

Chapter Fourteen

J
acko swayed beside the motel door talking to Lola, who stood at the end of the bed. Amy sat on the edge of the mattress trying to follow the conversation. The news of the bullet only skimming her head brought her relief. For a while, laying on the floor of the Laundromat, she believed her life was over.

The burning sensation coupled with the blood running down the side of her face all seemed surreal. She had no idea if someone would charge into the Laundromat and kill Jacko and kidnap her. But, it wasn't until she looked up into Jacko's face and witnessed his fury turn to concern that she understood the danger.

The five-minute ride back to the motel in Cam's truck, Jacko never left her side until he deposited her on the bed. Then, he'd scooted out of the way and let Lola treat her head wound.

"Amy?" said Jacko.

She focused on his face. "Hm?"

"Are you doing okay?"

When she saw the black car outside the Laundromat, followed by the gun aimed out the driver's side window, peace came over her.

"Yeah, I'm okay." She felt the bandage high on her forehead. Death never scared her. There were more people she loved in heaven—yes, she believed—than she had friends on earth. Not that she wanted to die, but when the cold flash buzzed in her head, followed by heat that burned, she wasn't scared.

She hoped when her sister died, she too wasn't scared.

"Los Li will be back." Stache stood beside Jacko at the door.

"I'll be ready." Jacko continued staring at Amy. "I'm going after them tonight."

Cam leaned against the far wall in the motel room. "Bear and Rich found a Los Li car outside of town at an abandoned gas station."

Jacko jerked his gaze to Cam. "The same one where Los Li almost killed a Bantorus MC member?"

"The same." Cam lowered his voice. "Who do you want with you tonight and what are you going to do with your woman?"

His woman? She looked at Jacko, wondering if he'd told the others they'd had sex.

"I want Bear and Johnson on her. She's used to having them around." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I'll take Meese and..."

"If you want me there, I'm there, brother," Cam said.

He nodded. "I want you there."

She stood, wobbled, and pressed her hand against her stomach. The thought of Jacko going after Los Li nauseated her.

"Whoa." Jacko stepped across the room and grabbed her arms, putting her back on the bed. "Stache?"

"Yeah?" Stache answered.

"Go into town and order a couple steaks and anything else that's good to help her regain some of the blood she lost." Jacko sat down on the bed and held the back of her neck with his hand, holding her steady. "The rest of you get the fuck out of the room. Once it's dark, we move."

Everyone stayed in position. Jacko leaped from the bed waving his arms. Amy jolted at the sudden movement. Her head pounded, though there was no real pain where the bullet cut a three-inch gash on her head and Lola superglued her skin closed.

Jacko shut the door. The silence a welcome relief from the hurried chaos the last hour.

"The sheets and my clothes are still at the laundromat." She bent her arm and looked at her tender elbow. A bruise had already developed from where she'd hit the floor.

"Johnson grabbed the clothes and busted the cameras when I was putting you in Cam's truck." Jacko went down on one knee in front of her, inspecting her elbow. "Does it hurt to bend?"

She shook her head. "Why would he break the cameras?"

He turned her arm and caressed her skin with his thumb.

"Oh, because you stole from the cash machine," she muttered, reality dawning on her.

"No, because we don't want any record of what went down."

"But, the sheriff could catch Los Li." She removed her arm from his grasp, wanting him to look at her.

"That'll link me to any future crimes."

"Oh." Her mood already low sank even further. "Jacko, you can't go after them. I know you want to stop them from coming after me, but you can't seek them out and risk your freedom. What if you got hurt or they killed you?"

"Nothing is going to happen to me," he said.

Her chest tightened. "You don't know what will happen. They tried to kill me. What's going to stop them from killing you?"

"I'll kill them first."

She shook her head, regretting the movement. "Don't do it for me."

"I'm going to end everything tonight. I won't let anyone hurt me or what is mine." Jacko went down on two knees. "You're mine now."

She combed her finger through his hair, pulled him to her chest, and held his head between her breasts. "You're crazy if you think you can claim me in front of your club, sleep with me, and expect me to agree with you."

He nuzzled her breasts. "I won't allow you to argue about staying with me."

"No, because I have nowhere else to go." She sighed. "But, you need to stop thinking of me as my sister's replacement."

His head came up. "What the fuck, Amy?"

She raised her shoulders and her brows. It was obvious Jacko still wasn't over Sarah. She couldn't blame him, considering a piece of her would always be missing because her sister was gone.

"You're really going to throw your sister between us?" he said.

"It's true." She held on to his vest at his shoulder. "Maybe getting hit with a bullet knocked sense into my head. You got me out of Idaho and into Montana after the kidnapping. You even paid for the house I lived in. I never understood why you disappeared, until I heard you were in prison. Everything you've done since we lost Sarah was go after the men responsible. Now I'm here, because of those same men, and you're mistaken if you think you can hook up with me to fix the situation. I need more than sex and right now while you're focused on revenge, you can't give me more."

"That's what you think?"

She smiled sadly. The circumstances were out of her control. "It's not what I think, it's what I know."

He stood up. "You don't know shit."

"Then tell me what I'm missing."

He held out his hands in front of him. "I know Sarah's gone."

She refrained from telling him she understood that part better than anyone. What she needed from him was a voluntary reason on why he wanted a relationship with her, in his own time, in his own words. She couldn't force feed him into explaining his reasons or she'd doubt him for however long she ended up staying with him.

"This whole conversation is fucked up." He grabbed his cigarettes out of his pocket and lit one.

A knock at the door ended their talk. Jacko opened the room to Stache and took the paper bag from him. "How much do I owe you?"

"Don't worry about it. We'll get even later." Stache glanced at Amy. "How's she doing?"

No matter which Moroad member asked about her, they always directed the question toward Jacko. Nobody ever asked her directly.

She wasn't sure how she'd answer anyway.

One minute, she was okay. The next, she wanted to fix everything that was going wrong. The rare seconds she allowed herself to dwell on getting shot, she wanted to curl up in a ball and disappear.

"She's doing okay." Jacko flicked his cigarette out the door. "I'm going to get her settled and make sure she eats."

"Good, man." Stache smoothed his mustache with his finger. "If you need anything yell. A bunch of us are going to hang out in the back of the motel."

Jacko shut the door and carried the sack to the bed. "You need to eat and gain your strength back."

Her stomach rolled. He was right. If she were going to survive until Jacko took care of Los Li, she'd need every bit of strength to make it out alive and survive a broken heart.

He set out the Styrofoam containers. Steak. A loaded baked potato. Creamed corn. Some kind of buttered bread.

She placed the container on her lap, picked up the plastic fork and looked over to Jacko. He'd picked the steak up with his fingers and brought it to his mouth. She picked at her potato, not yet ready to eat the meat without using a steak knife and metal fork.

Jacko cleared his throat and wiped his hand across his mouth. "Tomorrow I'll see about getting some silverware."

The potato blurred in her vision. She swallowed. While growing up money was always tight. Living on her own, she'd gone without a lot of the necessities. She'd spent two weeks living in other people's cars, lining the sidewalk outside the community center to get one peanut butter and jelly sandwich a day.

She was no stranger to hardship. She shrugged and picked up the steak with her fingers, caught up in how ridiculous she was being. It took a felon to worry about not supplying her with the proper utensils.

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