Uncover Me (2 page)

His body began to quake, a laugh bubbling out of him as my words sank in. “Ha!” he yelled, roughly squeezing my hand. “That shit is the truth. Rebel wouldn’t know the truth if it bit him on his dick.” His face softened as he laughed. “Take a seat, gentlemen,” Greaser said as his grip eased.

“Is it safe to talk here?” Rebel asked as he looked around the room. “Or should we go somewhere more private?”

Greaser waved his hand around before picking up his beer. “We’re safe here. If someone is listening, it’ll be hard for them to hear with all the noise.”

“Gotcha. I need a fuckin’ beer after this night.”

“What happened?” Greaser asked, bringing the beer to his lips.

“Fuckin’ fine piece of ass was right in front of me and I gave it to Blue.”

Greaser shook his head. “Never give away pussy.”

“She was a druggie and was arrested on the way here.”

“Fuck,” Greaser muttered. “No pussy is worth bringing the eyes of the law down upon the club.”

“Blue was with her. They let him go, but they got her.”

“What’s her name?” Greaser asked.

The last thing I wanted was Greaser or anyone else looking into Izzy. My insides were twisting at the thought of them finding her.

“The pig said she had a rap sheet a mile long. She’s just a junky and nothing more.”

“What?” Rebel asked, staring at me.

“She’s inconsequential, man. She was a lousy fuck and not worth another thought.”

I'd put a bullet in anyone who could harm my sister. Maintaining my cover wasn’t as important as my family.

“As long as you think there’ll be no blowback.”

“Fucker, the only thing she knows is the size of my dick,” I replied, looking around the room. “Anyone serving drinks in this shithole?”

“Bunny!” Greaser yelled across the room as a small female jumped and turned before heading right toward us. Her tiny feet moved quickly, her long legs almost shaking at the knees as she came to a stop in front of us, standing next to Rebel.

“Y-y-yesss,” she stammered with her eyes wide and glued to Greaser.

“Beer?” he asked.

“Tequila and a beer please,” I said, smiling at Bunny.

“Beer and a kiss, darlin’,” Rebel teased. Then he puckered his lips as he slid his arm behind her legs.

She tried to plaster a smile on her face as she leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the lips. Before she could back away, he grabbed her face and forced his tongue in her mouth. I turned to Greaser, who was watching in amusement, laughing and slapping the table.

When Rebel released her, she turned around and started to walk away, but not before he could land a quick slap to her ass. She squeaked, picking up the pace to get out of arm’s reach before another assault by Rebel.

“She’s a fine specimen, Greaser,” he growled as he wiped his lips.

“Yeah. She didn’t look into your old ass, motherfucker,” I replied as I pulled the cigarette pack from my sleeve. Once I’d grabbed a smoke, I tapped it against the box before placing it between my lips.

“With age comes experience,” Rebel hissed.

“Your shit’s going to fall off soon. It’s overused and needs to be condemned,” I teased before lighting the tip. After taking a drag, I let the smoke sit in my throat, the slow burn soothing my nerves.

I couldn’t remember what it meant to relax. I knew in essence what the word described, but while I was on the job, undercover with the MC, it wasn’t a verb I could identify any longer. I was constantly on edge, looking over my shoulder, and waiting for the shit to hit the proverbial fan at any moment.

I had to have aged at least twenty years since I had found my way inside the Sun Devils MC. I didn’t know if I’d ever be the same.

Could I go back home and be the Thomas Gallo I had been in my youth? The carefree ball buster amongst my family? Or had I been forever altered and perpetually changed by this mission?

At times, I second-guessed my decision to join the DEA. I should’ve stuck it out at the tattoo shop and been happy with a life with my family.

But I craved something more.

I’d wanted the rush, and knowing that I was doing something worthy made me feel good.

Once inside, I’d gotten a reality check. No matter how many men we brought down, how many drug dealers we threw in jail, or how many MCs we were able to rip apart, there would be another one to take their place before the judge could pass sentence.

The sound of the bottle scraping against the wooden table pulled me from my thoughts as Bunny slid the beer in front of me, brushing my fingers with the backs of her knuckles. I looked up at her and smiled.

“Where the fuck did you go there?” Rebel asked as he grabbed my beer.

“Zoned out for a minute.” I wished I was anywhere but here.

“Here’s your shot, baby,” Bunny cooed as she replaced the beer Rebel stole from me.

“Thanks, Bunny,” I said as I plucked a ten-dollar bill from my pocket and placed it on her tray.

“Get lost, Bunny. We have shit to talk about,” Greaser growled when she lingered for a moment, staring at me.

She scurried off into the crowd without a reply.

“Did Rebel fill you in on the details of the deal?” Greaser asked me before taking another sip of his beer.

“Yes.” I brought the shot glass to my mouth and downed the cool amber liquid.

“What are your thoughts?” Greaser asked, turning the beer bottle in his hand.

“The logistics are a concern, but it’s doable. Can the players be trusted?” I asked, still feeling the burn of the tequila in my belly.

Rebel had been tossing around the idea for some time, but when Greaser had said that he was all in, he’d jumped on it and run full steam ahead. Instead of controlling the drugs and guns, Rebel and Greaser had decided that the two clubs would go into money laundering. They felt that the risk was lower and the monetary gain higher. I looked at it as another thing to add to the long list of offenses I was able to track and prove when it was time to bring the club down.

“Yes,” Greaser stated without going into detail.

“I’m sure we can make it successful for everyone. What’s the cut?” Taking another drag of my cigarette, I stared at Greaser, waiting for his reply.

“Ten percent.” He motioned with his fingers, calling over someone across the room.

“Fuckin’ ay,” Rebel bellowed as he slammed his beer down on the table. “We got this shit.”

As he spoke, a beautiful brunette came up next to Greaser. He wrapped his arm around her waist, stroking her exposed stomach with his thumb.

“We’ll head down next week to discuss it further as long as your club is on board,” Greaser said as he climbed to his feet.

“Sounds good, my old friend,” Rebel replied. “I need to find some pussy. My balls are aching.”

Once they’d shaken hands, Greaser wandered off with the brunette. Then Rebel sat back down, taking a gulp of his beer.

“I’m going to get some head.”

“I’m going to get the fuck out of here. I’ve had my fill of pussy tonight,” I said, finishing off my beer and sticking the pack of cigarettes back under my sleeve. Standing, I looked around the room and turned to Rebel. “Have a fun night, brother.” Then I squeezed his shoulder, walked away, and headed for the door.

I stepped outside into the cool air of a March evening and peered up at the sky. I wanted to be home, back in Tampa with my family. Tomorrow would be Sunday dinner and everyone would be gathered around my parents’ table.

I wanted that life back. My life.

As I climbed on my bike and headed back to the motel, I wanted to call James and see how things had gone with Izzy. I needed to know that he had been able to get as far away from here as possible and that there were no problems.

The spring air chilled my skin as I drove the back roads of Daytona toward the fleabag motel and my bed for the night. I was ready to ditch this damn town and head back to HQ.

The life might be fucked up, but I had a new normal, a new rhythm I had grown accustomed to. Any change in the routine made me antsy.

I didn’t trust any of the motherfuckers in this town. Each club was out for themselves. I didn’t give a fuck about their clubs or their wrongdoings. My main goal was bringing down the Sun Devils and, by association, the Vipers, and getting home in one piece.

Staying alive was the name of the game.

Chapter 2

Months had passed since Daytona. The time was drawing near for me to leave this town and her behind. Sitting at the back of the club, I kept my eyes fixed on Roxy. She didn’t belong in a place like this. In her mid-twenties, she was stuck in a dead-end life with no escape. Her face was sad, the sparkle long evaporated from her eyes. Her long, dark auburn hair grazed her waist as she danced on stage, swaying against her skin, drawing me in, and putting me in a trance. My heart ached as I watched her.

She was beautiful—stunning, actually—but I knew she was capable of so much more. I’d spent many nights with her. When she was wrapped in my arms, lulled into tranquility, she shared her dreams with me as her eyes filled with tears. She wanted to be mine, but I couldn’t do it. Asking her to be my old lady didn’t feel fair. I wasn’t a lifer.

She had been born into this life and given no other option. She would be a club whore or old lady and dance at the club. College was out of the picture after finishing high school. She knew her role, and like a good girl, she lived up to their expectations.

She was the one person I could be myself around. When we were tucked away in my room, tangled in my sheets, I could let my guard down, show my sweeter side. It was the only time in my miserable club existence where I felt whole. Roxy would wrap me in her goodness and make the day seem a little bit better.

Sometimes, guilt would creep in when I would think about the future—hers and mine. What would happen to her after the bust? The MC would be in chaos and I would be gone. The strippers depended on the support and protection of the MC, and the business would be in disarray. She was the type of girl who would land on her feet, but where would she even begin on that journey without the club to fall back on?

I pushed the thoughts of the future away, focusing instead on the present. Her long legs hugged the pole as
“Beg for It” by Iggy Azalea
blared through the sound system. I sucked on my cigarette, letting the haze of smoke cloud my view and give it a dreamlike quality.

She was of average build, not strung out and thin like most of the cokehead whores in the club—a rare good girl trapped in a life she didn’t want. Her hips were lush, meeting the curve of her waist.

I had to block the voices of the men who were screaming obscene words in her direction and wanting to lay their hands on what was rightfully mine. It turned my stomach, making me feel the need to rescue her from the stage and hide her away from the world—but it wasn’t my place.

She wasn’t mine. No matter how badly I wanted her to be, I couldn’t be a prick and ruin her life with my lies.

As her set ended, she bent down to gather the money that had been thrown on stage. Men began to whistle, hurling curse words like they were compliments as she scurried off, clutching the bills to her chest.

She knew I was here—I’d caught her eye halfway through her routine. I knew she’d be out to find me once she had a few minutes to collect herself.

Tonight, I needed her in my bed. The last couple of days had been shitty, so I needed to feel her to remind me why I was here. Feeling the good helped spur me forward and give me purpose when dealing with the bad.

I turned around, not wanting to watch the next girl on stage, concentrated on my beer, and took another drag of my cigarette. Minutes later, small fingers tangled in my hair, sending shivers down my spine.

Turning, I took in the sight of Roxy. “Hey, beautiful.” I groaned, her fingers on my skin driving me close to the edge. Once I’d stubbed out my smoke, I swiveled around on the stool.

“Hey yourself, handsome. Nice to see you’re back in town.” She smiled, her teeth shining as the corners of her mouth almost kissed her eyes. But it quickly evaporated as she looked over my shoulder.

“What’s wrong, Rox?” I gripped the back of her neck as I cupped her cheek.

She grimaced, averting her eyes from whatever had made her smile disappear. “Just a bad night, but it’s better now that you’re here.” Slowly, her eyes rose, meeting mine as a small grin spread across her face. “I want to get lost in you. Please say I can be yours, even if only for a night.” Her blinking eyes dropped to my mouth.

Digging my fingers into the nape of her neck, I brought her lips to mine. “I can make you forget.” Then I nipped at her mouth, dragging my tongue along her soft flesh.

Tiny moans escaped her as she melted into me, standing between my legs as she wrapped her arms around my neck. “Blue,” she whispered, with pleading eyes. “I want to run away and leave this place behind.”

Releasing her lips, I searched her face, trying to read her sincerity. “Angel, what’s got you so down today?”

She sighed, placing her forehead against mine.

“Tell me what happened.”

“I don’t want you to get mad,” she whispered, closing her eyes.