Thief: Devil's Own MC (21 page)

Can Roger stop fucking talking in the third person?
I wondered, but didn’t say out loud. “Sure,” I said, smiling sweetly. “What else do you want to tell me?”

Roger grinned. His head flopped back on the couch. “Oh, lots of things,” he said in a slurry voice. “Like how Roger planned to use you for more little activities and fun.”

“Oh, no,” I said quickly. “I’m not helping you with anything else. No fucking way. You’re gonna have to find someone else, Roger.”

“But you’re such a good actress,” Roger whined. He didn’t even realize that I wasn’t being serious. “You gotta help me out, baby,” he added. “I can’t do nothin’ without you helping me.”

“Roger, come on,” I said in exasperation. “This was a one-time deal. You promised you’d leave me alone.”

“But you didn’t wanna help me, did you?” Roger’s eyes opened and he glared at me. “You had to make me force you with those pictures.”

My mouth dropped open. I’d all but forgotten the pictures. In light of everything else that had happened, they seemed like the most trivial things in the world. “Um, you destroyed those, right?”

Roger laughed. “You really is dumber than I thought,” he said, showing his mouth of rotten teeth. “You think I’d really delete those hot little snaps of your hot little snatch?” My face burned to hear him address me so crudely. “I wouldn’t get rid of those for anything, baby girl,” he said, almost cajoling. “So you better get that idea straightened out right now.”

I frowned. “What can I make you do to get rid of them?”

Roger laughed. “Everything in those pictures, baby,” he said, licking his lips. “But you can start by giving me a little sucking action down below, you know what I mean?” He gestured to his crotch and I looked away in revulsion. My nausea had come back. I couldn’t believe he still had the photos! Even after Blake had told me they’d been destroyed!

“I’m not touching you,” I said in a shaky voice. “But you have to get rid of those fucking pictures,” I hissed. “No one can see those, you understand?”

“Then maybe you’ll help Roger out with a little errand,” Roger said with a grin. “Tell me, baby, you think you can do that?”

“No,” I hissed. “One time. That was the deal.” In panic, I reached around behind me and pressed the button on my phone. It had already recorded too much, but there was nothing I could do. Slipping it back into my pocket, I squared my shoulders and faced Roger.

“We’ll see,” Roger said. His head drooped forward and for a moment it looked like he was going to fall asleep.

Please fall asleep,
I prayed silently.
Please
. “Roger?” I tried in a soft voice. “Are you feeling okay?”

“My head hurts,” Roger mumbled. “I think I drank too much.”

“Oh, no,” I said sympathetically. “Why don’t you take your shoes off and lie down for a little while? That might help, it always helps me.”

“That’s a good idea, baby,” Roger slurred. He struggled with his shoes and I bent down at his feet and pulled them off. He wasn’t wearing socks and the smell coming from his feet was rancid. I gagged and closed my eyes, turning my head away from his foul skin. It was like he’d bathed in garbage.

“Just relax and get comfortable,” I said in a soothing voice. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

Roger looked at me blearily. The lids of his eyes fluttered shut, and finally, he fell asleep. I watched him snore for a few seconds to make sure that he wouldn’t wake up and bolted out of the room and down the hallway. Locking myself in my bedroom, I texted Blake.
Here’s the recording. Take it to the cops! Please hurry! Roger’s passed out.

He didn’t respond for a few minutes. They felt like the longest of my life. I sat down on my bed, suddenly filled with energy. My toes started tapping against the carpet and I had to grab my leg to force myself to stop. Finally, my phone buzzed. I looked down to see a text from Blake.

Got it
, he’d replied.
Going to the cops now. Stay where you are. I’m coming.

Chapter Twenty Nine

Blake

It took Sarah an eternity to get back in touch with me. After leaving Tinder’s, I’d ridden home. She’d texted me when I was on the way and then called me soon after. I was just happy that I’d had a chance to talk with her before the cops did. I knew they would show no mercy, not even for a pretty girl like Sarah.

I listened to the recording. It was pretty solid, but Sarah could have cut it off a little earlier. Now I knew the cops were going to find out about the pictures. I could have cursed myself for not being more thorough when I’d gone to talk to Roger. I couldn’t believe that I’d been stupid enough to believe him. “I deleted everything!” Yeah fucking right, Roger. You didn’t delete shit. I wanted to go back in time and punch him hard for every single fucking second that he’d lied to me. I wanted to make him pay. For what he’d done to me, but most of all, for what he’d done to Sarah. I knew that with speed and a little luck, the recorded testimony would be enough to lock hm up and put him behind bars.

Roger had been more demented and more dangerous than I’d given him credit for. I couldn’t believe that someone like Sarah had gotten mixed up in this. It made me shiver to realize how much worse it would have been if I hadn’t interfered. She’d be stuck helping Roger for the rest of her life, or until the cops caught up. Sure, they weren’t the brightest around, but I knew that she still had to watch her back. I wasn’t even sure if the recording would be enough to exonerate her. Roger’s words were chilling, but he also was drunk. I hoped that wouldn’t be enough to ruin the testimony.

Shaking my head, I stuck my phone in my pocket and grabbed my jacket. I knew that I had to act quickly if I wanted to get out there and save Sarah. But first, I had to go to the cops. I hated the police. As a member of the MC, I never trusted them. They were always looking for ways to fuck us, looking for ways to make it so they could put us all behind bars and control everything themselves. But the cops who’d showed up at Tinder’s had absolutely no idea what they’d been doing. I remembered them gawking over Sarah on the security cam footage like she was some kind of strange animal. It was enough to make me feel sick.

I hopped on my bike and sped towards the police station. It was the middle of the day and there were no cars on the roads, but it took me forever to get there. The receptionist eyed me with boredom when I burst through the front doors.

“Who here is working on the Tinder’s heist?”

The receptionist looked at me with crossed eyes. “I don’t know,” she said dully. “Want me to page the sergeant?”

“Sure,” I said, throwing my hands down on the counter. “Whatever, whoever, just do it fast.” I glared at her. “This is an emergency.”

“Fine,” she said in the same snippy tone. “Hold your horses.”

It took her forever to page one of the cops. Finally, two guys in uniform came down the hallway. One of them was picking at his teeth with a wooden toothpick.

“Can we help you?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m Blake Ward, the security guard from Tinder’s. I have something you’ll want to hear.”

One of them looked at me skeptically. “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “Just what would that be?”

“Stop wasting fucking time,” I growled, raking a hand through my hair. “This is fucking serious!”

The other cop moved his hand to his gun. “Come on,” he said slowly. “There’s no need for that kind of aggression around here. Whatever it is, we’ll handle it.”

“Take this,” I said, handing him my phone. “There’s a recording on it, from Sarah. She’s the woman in the videos. You need to listen to what she says.”

“Holy shit,” one of the cops breathed. “Are you for real?”

“Yes,” I hissed. “Just hurry up and take it. I have to go.”

“Not so fast,” the first cop said. “We need to talk to you, how did you get this?”

“It doesn’t matter!” I said loudly, stepping backwards. “I have to go, right now.”

The cops came towards me, shaking their heads. Before I could give them any chance to get closer, I turned on my heel and ran. I heard them yelling and stomping their feet behind me in a futile attempt to catch up, but I was faster. I bolted out of the station and leapt on my bike, gunning it to life and pointing it in the direction of Sarah’s apartment.

The cops were hot on my tail; I could hear the sirens starting behind me almost immediately. I drove as fast as I could but I couldn’t shake them, and I knew that I was leading them straight to Sarah.
Shit
. But it was too late to stop and turn around. Besides, I’d told her that I was coming. I’d promised her. I couldn’t let her down, not again, not after I’d fucked up this much in the first place. I felt overwhelming guilt for having told her that Roger had been taken care of.
There’s still time
, I told myself.
We can still make this work
.

When I pulled into Sarah’s parking lot, I dropped my bike and ran up the stairs two at a time. I stood outside her door breathing hard. Inside was silent. A chill of fear ran down my spine as I stood with my ear to the door. In the distance, the sirens were starting to get louder and louder. Just as my hand was on the doorknob, a male voice came into earshot.
Roger
. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but I heard Sarah protest loudly, followed by a loud cracking sound. I winced as I imagined him slapping her. When we’d talked last, he’d been asleep. I knew that he must be angry and hungover by now, and I knew I had to get to Sarah as fast as possible.

Sarah’s apartment had a porch with a separate door around the back; I remembered seeing it after leaving one time, after we’d had sex. Silently, I held my breath and snuck around the back of the complex. Her porch was about a half-story into the air, but if I stood on the air conditioning unit, I could pull myself up.

It was broad daylight and I was feeling self-conscious about scaling the wall.
Just fucking do it,
I told myself.
If you don’t hurry up, he’s going to kill her. Or the cops will kill them both. Just fucking hurry
. I climbed on top of the whirring air conditioning box and grabbed a hold of Sarah’s porch grating. The metal was rusting and it stung my hands but I hauled myself up and over the railing. The door was shut and the blinds were drawn. Cautiously, I reached out and slid it open.
Yes!
I thought triumphantly.
It worked!

Easing myself inside, I pressed my ear to the wall and listened for voices. Roger had stopped talking but I thought I heard a woman’s faint sobs. My heart lurched when I thought about him hurting Sarah. I already wanted to rip him apart with my bare hands; somehow just killing him didn’t seem like enough.

I reached into the back of my waistband and pulled out my gun. Cocking it and making sure the safety was off, I aimed it and slid along the wall, creeping down the hallway. From the living room, I could hear the sounds of the TV. There was no talking, and the crying seemed to have stopped. When I rounded the corner, I saw Roger sitting on the couch. Sarah was crouched at his feet, looking miserable. She looked up and saw me and I held a finger to my lips. Sarah’s eyes widened, but she didn’t move and betray me. I stepped further into the room until I was right behind Roger.

“Get up and fight me like a man,” I said. “Asshole.”

Roger jumped at the sound. He stood and turned around shakily. I could smell the alcohol wafting off his breath from where I stood and I realized that he was still heavily intoxicated. Suddenly, the rage inside of me boiled over. I lurched forward and grabbed Roger with one hand, slamming him to the floor. He looked up at me with dazed eyes and I hit him over the head with my pistol before winding back my fist and punching him hard in the face.

“That’s better than you deserve,” I hissed. “Get up and fight like a man, asshole!” I repeated. Roger blinked at me.

“No! Blake!” Sarah cried out. She grabbed my arm and tried to drag me away. “Blake, leave him alone! You know you can’t touch him!”

“Stay out of this,” I hissed. Sarah stumbled backwards and she cried out as I punched Roger hard, again and again. Every time he tried to struggle and sit up, I punched him. Before long, Roger was staring up at me with two black eyes.

“You ain’t gonna beat me,” he hissed. “You can’t do it. I know you can’t. You don’t have the fucking balls,” Roger spat. His breath smelled foul and I kicked him hard with the toe of my boot. He cringed and curled up in the fetal position, but then he opened his eyes and gave me the same smug grin as before. “You know you can’t kill me,” he said. “You can’t risk going to prison.”

“Fuck you,” I spat. Leaning down, I whipped him with my gun over and over, until blood was gushing from his nose and mouth. In the corner of the room, Sarah was sobbing loudly.

“Blake!” Sarah cried. She came forward and wrapped her small hands around my arm, jerking it back from Roger’s prone figure. “Blake, leave him alone,” she pleaded. “He’s passed out. He’s not going to hurt you anymore.”

“It’s not me he hurt,” I growled. “It’s you.”

Sarah’s cheeks pinked. “I’m sorry,” she whispered softly. “Please leave him alone. You know that means you could go back to prison,” she added under her breath. “I don’t want to see you hurt.”

My hands were already swelling and sore. I hated to admit it, but I knew that she was right. “Fuck,” I muttered. “I don’t even care if I go to prison for that. It felt too good.”

Sarah wrapped her arms around me and squeezed me tight. “Please,” she said softly. “Please just hold me for a minute. I can deal with everything else that’s gonna happen as long as you keep holding me.”

I breathed in the vanilla-chili scent of her hair and closed my eyes, pulling Sarah’s tight little body towards me. She melted against my frame and wrapped her arms snugly around my torso. I felt my some of my anger dissipate as she held on tightly, burying her face in my chest. When I felt the front of my shirt getting wet, I knew she was crying. Sarah’s whole body was shaking. I felt totally and completely helpless. Breaking in and beating up her assailant was one thing, but whenever a woman cried around me, I just desperately wanted to make her stop.

“Sarah, please,” I whispered soothingly into her hair. “It’s gonna be alright. I promise everything’s gonna be okay.” My hands were splattered with Roger’s blood but I held her anyway. It seemed fitting; a killer’s hands. They were still my hands after all, and I knew how much pleasure—and pain—they could bring. But right now the most important thing was that they were touching Sarah.

She pulled away and looked at me with her wet emerald eyes. “No it’s not,” she said in a shaky voice. “Nothing’s ever gonna be okay again.” She twisted around and craned her neck to look at Roger’s prone body. He stirred but didn’t wake, and Sarah cried out in anguish. She buried her face in my chest and resumed sobbing. All I could do was stroke her back and murmur soothing bullshit until the moment had passed. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do; I’d already taken care of Roger. I didn’t know why she was still so upset.

“Sarah, listen,” I told her. “We don’t have much time. You need to get out of here. The cops were right on my ass as I was driving out this way.” Sarah’s frame sagged against me. Sighing, I wrapped my arms more tightly around her and pulled her back to the bedroom. At least this way, she wouldn’t have to look at Roger.

“The cops are coming?” She looked up at me with a whole new level of panic and anxiety on her face. “Did you tell them?”

I put my hands on her shoulders and looked into her scared face. “Sarah, I had to,” I told her breathlessly. “They were going to arrest you if I didn’t.”

Panic and fear registered on her face. “Oh my god,” she said in one quick breath. “I don’t believe it, Blake.”

I nodded. “Sarah, this is for the best,” I said. “I promise. Everything is going to be okay. Everything is going to work out.”

The sirens became louder and I winced, knowing that soon they’d be entering the apartment complex. I hadn’t hidden my bike when I parked, and it was clearly visible from the road. If the cops were paying attention, they’d know exactly where to go. I shuddered; the scene was likely to be chaos, but it was necessary chaos. They’d have to question everyone—including myself—and it wasn’t going to be fun, but it had to happen.