Page 4 of Undone

With shaky fingers, I took my phone out, tapping until I got to her number. It rang and rang… finally going to voicemail.

“Luce? Baby?” I breathed in broken whispers. “I-I’ve done something. I need you. Fuck, baby, so bad. I did it all for you. For us. Please. Don’t shut me out anymore. You’ve left me all alone in the dark. Now I am the darkness. I don’t want to be here anymore. Help me, baby. Help me—bring me back to the riverbanks, meadows and moss-covered rocks by the stream.”

I sounded drunk and desperate. Because I was. Something snapped in me tonight. I never knew I had it in me to turn my soul into the rabid dog I once joked I was.

“Smith?” Cortez tapped at the bathroom door.

“The cleaning crew is here. We gotta go and find an alibi,hombre.”

I wiped my face with the back of my hand and opened the door. “Tell them to pour bleach down the pipes.” I nodded to the bodies scattered across the floor, “Do you have a place to dump them?”

“Sí.”

My boots crunched over broken glass and bones as I followed him out the door. I felt empty inside. Like my soul had become a black hole, where everything I felt before got sucked in—disappearing forever.

“You’ve killed before,sí?”

I nodded my head as I got on my bike. “I don’t want to talk about it.” I throttled the engine, pulling out slowly. He motioned for me to follow. I’m in some deep shit. Not just with the law but with the Club. Cortez and I just executed a rival MC. There was no vote—no time. We both just did it, without thinking of the consequences. But that’s what happens when the love you feel for a woman takes complete hold of you—you’d do anything to keep her safe—even if it means slaughtering a brothel full of men who’d harm her.

We rode for an hour, climbing dark hills. Finally, Cortez slowed his bike to a crawl and parked it in a shed. I pulled mine in next to his.

“We’re at one of my Club’s safehouses.” I nodded, feeling old as fuck as I climbed off, following him inside the small cabin. Both of us knew what we needed to do.

I found a bathroom; stripped and stood under the hot spray of the shower for a good fifteen minutes. When I was done, I wrapped a towel around my waist and picked up my clothes. Cortez already had a fire burning hot in an old barrel. I walked barefoot in the dark and threw everything in. I deliberated throwing my cut into the flames when he put a hand over it. “No. Wear it with pride. I’ll have one of my women clean it.”

I hesitated for a second, then threw it into the flames. “I can’t risk it.”

He swore in Spanish then added his. The smoke turned black as our cuts burned together. Cortez met my eyes across the flames. “Los Coyotesand Creed are allies for life.”

I dipped my head, nodding. I’m still a king, but I don’t want the burden of wearing the crown anymore.

“I called one of my men. He’s in, but out of Creed, if that makes sense. He’s bringing us clothes and an alibi.”

“Good.” But we’re already covered hombre. My cleaning crew is setting it up to make it look like the Chinese mob did it. The heat will be off us for a while.”

“Fuck! Until the Chines figures out who set them up to take the fall. Run this shit by me, Cortez, before you start making decisions that could have major blowback. Rival MC’s are one thing, brother, but fuckin’ with the Chinese mob is a whole new game.”

“Sí.I know what I’m doing. They are moving drugs through my territory. They killed my father and brother. They will pay.”

“Jesus, so you dragged me into your war?”

He shrugged. “I helped you—you help me.”

My eyes narrowed to dark slits. The road back to my woman just became harder to find. Headlights drew up the long, narrow drive creeping closer. Cortez moved for his gun resting on a stump. “No. It’s just Dare.”

He shuts the door to the shiny black Range Rover, hitting the button to lock the thing. The lights flickered as it beeped.

“Jesus, who’s gonna steal it?”

“You? I heard the Club is back in the business of chopping cars.”

“Careful, brother,” I stalked forward, “did you forget how to keep your mouth shut?” Dare continued to meet my stare, not backing down an inch.

“Who is thisgringo? Christian Grey?”

Dare smirked, as he towered over Cortez in his Armani or Dolce suit, looking every inch a ruthless, boardroom tycoon. Not even a speck of dust marked his expensive shoes. His eyes glowed dangerously, “I’m your worst nightmare,hombre—if you fuck with my friend or my MC…I’ll find you.” He shoved a bag full of clothes at Cortez, before turning and handing me a shopping bag as well. “We need to talk. Christ, Smith, what the fuck is going on?”

“Cortez can be trusted.”

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