Dark Instinct (Dark Saints MC Book 6) Read online

  For a moment we stood there, frozen in sweat, blood, and adrenaline.

  Then Sarge spoke up. “This one is for my Sunflower.”

  He squeezed the trigger and Jonesy C’s head brains exploded all over the wall.

  I couldn’t quite believe what I was seeing. And I couldn’t move.

  It was Sarge who shook me out of it.

  “Look outside. See if we woke any neighbors.”

  This was a crappy area. There were vacant houses on both sides of the duplex.

  I looked around. The commotion hadn’t so much as opened one door. The residents were apparently used to gunfire or they were smart enough to stay hidden when it started.

  Dad had out his cell phone and was giving orders.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Cleaning up this mess.”

  It was easy to forget that the man in the scooter, the man who needed oxygen to walk to the backyard, the man who sat and read to my sister with tears in his eyes, was the man who founded The Dark Saints. But that man was in plain sight at this moment.

  “You see keys anywhere? And maybe some sheets?”

  “What?”

  “We’re going to take him for a ride. We don’t want anyone to visit until we’ve got this cleaned up.”

  Sarge was stone cold.

  “You say he shot Olivia?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then he deserves what he got. Pull my pickup around back and put him in there. Add some lawn furniture too.”

  “What?”

  Sarge looked at me. It was all clicking in.

  “You want to do time for this, asshole? Cause I don’t.”

  Sarge made a phone call.

  “Bear. Yeah, I’ve got a cleanup job. Dugger still on retainer? Good. Yeah, probably. I’ll let him fill you in later.”

  Sarge gave the address.

  “You’re going to have to explain this.”

  “Me?”

  “Yeah, you put this in motion without Church. I’m just cleaning it up.”

  “You didn’t enjoy doing that?”

  “I’m not happy, but I’m satisfied. And if someone has to do time for killing this scumbag, I want it to be me. Though I have every confidence Dugger will clean this up right.”

  I’d wanted vengeance for so long that I’d thought I’d feel relief knowing that the scum who shot my sister was dead.

  But I was numb. And I was doing what Sarge said, to the letter. The realization that he knew exactly what do was alternatively calming and terrifying. I’d do as he instructed and hope that he wouldn’t have to pay the price for the wheels I’d set in motion today.

  It wasn’t an easy thing, moving a body, but I did as fast and cleanly as possible.

  Sarge hobbled out to the truck. He’d be driving it. I’d be following on my bike.

  “Don’t follow too close. We’re going to the beach.”

  He wasn’t talking about the beach near our house. He was talking about a protected wetland that served The Saints for our darkest purposes.

  “Can you drive?” I asked him, and he nodded. I helped him into the truck. We needed to get back to the house. He needed his oxygen.

  But the trip home was going to be delayed.

  I had forgotten for a moment that I had been stabbed. My arm was tight, but it wasn’t limp. I could move it.

  As we drove, hauling our rotting Hawk, I kept an eye out for cops. Eventually we made it to the beach. The spot we used was behind state protected lands. It was beautiful really, but because it was protected, no one came here, ever.

  Except for The Saints.

  It was daylight, but the bluff doubly protected us from sight. We were miles outside of Port Azreal. The trail to the north led to the dunes, which were too high up for anyone to see from the main road. No one ever came out this far. It was desolate and quiet. Fitting, since to The Saints, it was a graveyard.

  I was able to get Jonesy out of the truck but then there was the problem of my stabbing. I could haul with one arm, but I couldn’t dig.

  “Don’t worry, I’ve got it covered.”

  A car drove up. By Sarge’s demeanor, I could see he knew who this was.

  A skinny figure emerged.

  Shit. Fitzie, the probie. He was there with a shovel and a serious attitude.

  “Start digging there, kid.” Sarge pointed to a spot.

  “Did you need to call Fitzie?” I said under my breath. I was concerned that too many people knew what had gone down. It was only Sarge and me in the room but Bear, Dugger, and now Fitzie were in on a revenge that was supposed to just involve me.

  “It’s a probie job. And if he wants to get that patch, he keeps his mouth shut.”

  The rules of the club were set in stone, in large party by Sarge. I wasn’t to question those rules and Fitzie certainly wasn’t. This was exactly the kind of job that turned a probie into a full member. When you did something for the club, unflinching, because the Prez or Church determined it had to be done, that was when we knew you were for real.

  Fitzie was proving an apt pupil. I watched as he shoveled. For a wiry kid, he was strong, and fast. I didn’t regret that Jonesy C was dead. That brought me a cold satisfaction. Almost as much as if I’d pulled the trigger. And maybe it was right that Sarge had. Olivia was just as important to him.

  It took just over an hour to bury this busted bird. I wasn’t going to cry about it, yet I was still unsettled. Nothing had gone down like I had expected.

  In the hour it took to bury the evidence, Sarge got grayer, more tired, and shockingly depleted. The killing might well kill him.

  I was worried.

  I no longer had revenge burning in my gut.

  But there was something else, dread.

  18

  Tracy

  I went about the day. Took care of Olivia, and became increasingly worried about Sarge. I realized I didn’t know how to contact him, or even where he might go.

  They didn’t have to let me know what they had on planned each day, but I wished Maddox and Sarge would have told me if they were going somewhere together. They just weren’t used to having someone wait and worry about them these days I guessed.

  I’d completed most of the projects I could for the day, including installing the accommodations in Sarge’s bathroom. I was rather proud of my proficiency with a drill. It would be safer for Sarge in there and that put a smile on my face.

  It was nearly evening when the day turned chaotic.

  Sarge and Maddox reappeared in the kitchen. And they both looked like hell.

  “He needs to lay down.”

  “Where have you been?”

  They were a mess, both of them. But it was Sarge who looked the worst, without a doubt. Neither answered my question and there was an urgent health need for Sarge that superseded my need to know.

  I took one side of Sarge and Maddox took the other, just like the night before, and we made our way to his room. I got Sarge settled and found his oxygen mask.

  I worked as fast as I could to make him comfortable, get him water, and try to assess if this was something that required a trip to the E.R. I was an aid, a housecleaner, and a new one at that. I didn’t think I had the skills needed for the current calamity.

  Maddox stayed out of my way for the most part and got me anything I asked for.

  After Sarge had been on his oxygen for a good fifteen minutes and settled, I checked his vitals. For the most part he seemed okay. I wondered again what the hell happened to put him in this condition.

  Then another new face entered Sarge’s room.

  “Jesus Christ, Sarge, you look like shit.”

  A tiny woman with a cap of white hair strode in with a medical bag and a strong sense of purpose.

  “Well, you’re as bossy as ever.” He smiled weakly at her and that small action prompted a fit of coughing. The woman rushed passed me and to his side.

  “Cool it, Sarge.”

  She looked at me.

  “Hi, m
y name’s Josie, I’m a nurse. You check his vitals?”

  “Uh, Tracy. Yes, pretty good actually.”

  Josie did her own check. And she listened to Sarge’s lungs.

  She was maybe as tall as I was, if she was lucky, but she could handle Sarge and Maddox with one lithe arm tied behind her back. And she did it with humor.

  “Still a black heart, you’ll be fine,” she said, Sarge smiled but was already starting to doze off.

  “He looks comfortable now. His color is a lot better,” I observed.

  “You’re a nurse too?” Josie asked, and I felt a little shot of pride that she would think so.

  “No, home health aide, housekeeper.”

  “Well, you’re doing a damn fine job. Best this house has smelled in a year,” Josie said as she continued to keep her focus on Sarge.

  She kissed him on the forehead and then whipped around to turn her sharp eyes toward Maddox.

  “Your next, Maddie.”

  “Don’t call me Maddie.”

  “Psh. I’ll call you Maddie ‘till your fifty. Let’s go up to your tower and get you fixed up.”

  “What?” I knew Maddox looked rougher than when I’d seen him this morning, but I didn’t know what Josie was planning to fix.

  “Yeah, Man of Steel here was shanked. Didn’t you notice? Word of wisdom with these guys, they always try to hide their injuries. It’s damned annoying.”

  I hadn’t noticed, until she said it. Then I saw that his hand was caked with dried blood. I looked up and saw a rip in Maddox’s leather, near the collar.

  “You’ve been fucking stabbed? What the hell?”

  I walked up and grabbed the jacket to see what was hiding underneath.

  “Let’s chat somewhere else, shall we?” Josie said in a whisper and pointed to Sarge who was finally resting. I piped down and nodded. I wanted to throttle Maddox myself.

  “Yeah, fine, tower it is,” Maddox said. He was pointedly ignoring me.

  Maddox led, Josie followed, and I tagged along. That was really the only way to describe my wide-eyed confusion over what was happening.

  Josie helped Maddox get his jacket off. He winced as she pulled the sleeve down and off.

  “Shit, Maddie, you may need a couple stitches.”

  “You’re being dramatic.”

  “Sit.”

  Josie had no problem handling Maddox or Sarge. I had to respect the hell out of that. I had a million questions about what had happened, but the questions could wait. I was Josie’s assistant in this strange triage situation.

  “Hand me some alcohol, please.”

  I looked around.

  “It’s in the bag.” Josie’s bag was stocked with what looked like all kinds of field dressing and medical supplies. I found the alcohol and swabs and handed them to her.

  She worked fast.

  “You know Sarge is right? You’re being bull-headed.”

  Maddox winced as Josie cleaned the surface of the wound. I looked over her shoulder to see how serious it was. It was less than two inches wide. That was good, I thought.

  And it wasn’t crusted over, so maybe a stitch or two could do the trick.

  “I learned from the best, didn’t I?” Maddox said, and his face didn’t change as the astringent hit his open wound.

  “Touché, Maddie, touché. Honey, hand me that red pack there.”

  I took the alcohol and swabs and then found the pack.

  She opened a suture kit.

  “This puppy is about five or so inches in. It’s not the width it’s the length. And no comment on that turn of phrase Maddie, got it? You got range of motion?” Josie took Maddox’s elbow and rotated his arm at the shoulder ball joint. He didn’t appear to even notice she was doing it.

  “I’m fine, it didn’t hit anything important.”

  “Your muscles are as dense as your brain so I’m going to say you’re right on that. The blade is probably bent. But this is going to be sore.” She pierced his skin with her needle. I winced. Maddox didn’t.

  “You really don’t need to stitch this,” Maddox protested but he stayed still for Josie. He did not, however, make eye contact with me.

  “Shh. I’m concentratin’.” Josie put in four stitches that I could count and then turned to me again.

  “Here, he needs this covered.”

  She handed me a packet that contained a bandage to protect the site of his stitches.

  “And don’t let him get it wet for twenty-four hours. Also, don’t let him lift anything heavy or he’ll pop out this nice bit of needlework I did.”

  “Yes ma’am,” I said and marveled again at her ability to confidently just handle the situation as it was. To some degree it reminded me of the way Harlow was with Kade. Was this the key to being in love with a Dark Saint?

  Love? I pushed that back to the recesses of my brain. I didn’t have time to analyze why that phrase had come to me unbidden.

  “She’s nice and didn’t pass out while I stitched ya up. I’d be good to her,” Josie told Maddox and then indicated to me that I should put the dressing on his collarbone.

  “I’m trying,” Maddox said as I worked on opening the adhesive strips in the kit Josie had handed me.

  “The MC misses you. Come on back, Maddie. It’s not the same without you. And you know you’re not the same without us.”

  Josie kissed Maddox on the forehead like she had Sarge. And then she ruffled his hair. I wondered if she’d known him his entire life? What was he like as a boy? Josie seemed like an Aunt or even a tough older sister. I had a million questions about her. And also about why Maddox wasn’t at his MC. Why had he stayed away?

  “Check on Sarge one time before you go?” Maddox asked her.

  “Yep, and your sleeping beauty too.”

  Josie packed up her bag and looked at me. “Thanks for the assist. Nice to meet you, Tracy. Don’t let him scare you away. And get a nursing degree. The club is getting too big for this old gal. I could use a backup like you.”

  I nodded as she walked out. How the hell had she read my mind?

  Maddox tried to shoo me away as I approached with the bandage, but I was on a mission too.

  “I don’t need that shit,” Maddox said to me.

  “Josie told me to put the bandage on. I’m putting the bandage on.”

  “Hrmph,” was the only reply. I carefully applied the bandage, mindful not to pull the flesh near his stitches. I finished and then inspected Maddox.

  He had dried blood on his shoulder and his arm.

  “Wait here.”

  I found washcloth and ran it under the sink in his bathroom. I realized the previous cleaning staff hadn’t touched this place and it was surprisingly tidy. The beast was less beastly than I’d realized. Still, he’d been stabbed today. What the shit was happening to my life?

  Maddox moved to his couch and was lying with his feet up and his hand on his forehead. I had a million questions but kept my focus on cleaning his arm.

  I straddled over him to get to his injured left side.

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Yes I do.”

  I ran the cloth gently down his arm, his side, and anywhere there were traces of the day. Maddox lightly put his other hand on my hip. I stayed focused on my task but felt the air shift between us.

  I’d been in awe, bewildered, and on the sidelines of something I didn’t understand when Sarge and Maddox had returned. Now I was in the center of his vision.

  He pulled my hips into his and I had no choice but to lean down. He kissed me, and I felt a new wave of attraction for him kindle deep in my chest, and it radiated through my limbs.

  I had no idea what had happened to him today, or why, but the idea that he was in danger shook me to my bones. I’d only just found him and losing him wasn’t a neurotic worry; it was a real possibility. The thought of what that might feel like nearly broke my heart.

  Our kiss intensified.

  I knew I should be asking my million questio
ns. But he distracted me with his lips on mine and his hands were tugging at my jeans. They were an impediment. Getting closer was all I wanted. I also didn’t want to make the wound on his shoulder worse. Not moving, wasn’t that one of Josie’s orders?

  “You’re hurt. You need to be still,” I said to him as he nipped at my lower lip.

  “Fuck me, now. That’s what I need.”

  No one had ever talked that way to me and I couldn’t have imagined how hearing him tell me what he wanted would affect me. It was powerful.

  Maddox worked his hands around the waistband of my jeans. I obliged him and broke free from our kiss long enough to unzip them. I stood up and shimmied out of them then returned to what had become my new favorite place, on top of Maddox. When I did, he growled and roughly grabbed my ass cheek.

  “Do the rest.”

  I knew exactly what he meant. I leaned up and took off my t-shirt. Maddox’s eyes feasted on my breasts, still modestly covered with my least sexy bra. Sexy underwear hadn’t been my priority, until Maddox came into my life. It appeared that my t-shirt bra was just fine by him though. He leaned up and kissed my breast and then sucked on it hard, through the fabric. I felt his teeth graze my skin.

  I reached behind me and undid the hooks. Maddox didn’t seem to be in too much pain as he ran both his hands the length of my body.

  He pulled me down close to him and kissed me. His chest and mine rubbed against each other.

  “I have questions. I – ”

  He kissed me quiet.

  “Later. Ask later.”

  It wasn’t too difficult to convince me. Maddox, bum arm and all, maneuvered my panties off. Here I was again, draped over him awash in sensation.

  “Let me.”

  I unzipped his leather.

  Shit, he was wearing leather? How did I wind up with a man who looked so good in leather?

  I freed him, and he closed his eyes and sucked air in through his teeth. He was so damn sexy when he was with me like this that it was almost a crime.

  I ignored whatever actual crime might have occurred today.

  Maddox lifted me slightly and I felt the delicious almost painful filling of him to me. I made some sort of noise he liked, and a dirty smile spread across his lips.

  My thoughts, questions, and concerns evaporated and the only thing that mattered was the moment we were in together.