Page 18

Klutch

An Hour Earlier

The smell of motor oil hangs in the air as I slide underneath the Camaro I’m tuning up.

My hands work on autopilot, loosening the bolts on the oil pan while my mind wanders to Demi.

Last night she fell asleep curled against my chest. This thing between us isn’t something I’ve had before and I’m not sure what to do with it if I’m being honest. I never expected to feel this way about any woman, yet here I am.

All I know is she’s mine and it’s going to stay that way.

I grab hold of the socket wrench on the ground beside me and pass it over to him.“Here.”

“Thanks, brother.”

I finish draining the oil and roll out from under the car, wiping my hands on a shop rag.

Sanchez Auto Repair is busy today, which is good for business but means I haven’t had a chance to check in with Demi.

My dad’s usually the one running this place, but he’s at some meeting with Denali.

He took off out of here this morning, leaving me and Yukon to handle things.

“How’s that Mustang coming?” I ask, nodding toward the car Yukon’s been working on.

He grins, his white teeth flashing against his dark skin. “Just finishing up. Lady who owns it is fine as fuck, too. Came in wearing a skirt that barely covers her ass.”

I roll my eyes. “Focus on the car, not the bitch driving it.”

“I’m a multitasker,” he quips, turning as the bell over the door chimes.

The woman who walks in must be the one Yukon was talking about. She’s hot, no doubt about it, but my dick’s not interested in anyone but my Blue.

“Is my car ready?” the tall blonde asks as she blatantly undresses Yukon with her eyes.

He straightens up, a smirk taking over his face. Jesus fuck. Here we go. “Just finishing up, ma’am. Oil’s changed, tires rotated, and I topped off all your fluids.”

The double entendre isn’t lost on her, and she giggles. “Well, aren’t you thorough.”

“I aim to please,” Yukon says, leaning against the car. “Though I noticed your brake pads are getting a little worn. Might want to think about replacing those soon.”

“Oh?” She steps closer to him, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “Is that something you could help me with?”

I snort, rolling my eyes at their flirting. “I’m gonna get back to work,” I mutter, getting back to work on the Camaro.

I focus on replacing the oil filter, tuning out Yukon trying to smooth talk our customer out of her panties. It’s nothing new. By the time I’ve refilled the oil and am tightening the cap, their voices have disappeared.

The garage is quiet. I glance around, spotting neither Yukon nor the blonde. Then I hear a muffled giggle from the direction of the bathroom.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I mutter, shaking my head.

I grab a clean rag and wipe the oil from my hands while I wait. Sure enough, about ten minutes later, the bathroom door opens. Yukon emerges with a shit-eating grin, followed by the blonde who’s tugging at the hem of her skirt. Her lipstick is smudged and her hair has that just got fucked look.

She gives Yukon one last flirtatious smile before sashaying past me toward the front desk. I wait until she’s paid and gone before turning to Yukon with a raised eyebrow.

“The bathroom? Really?”

He shrugs, looking way too damn pleased with himself. “What? It was clean.”

“It’s a fucking bathroom,” I point out. “And it’s the middle of the day.”

“She wasn’t complaining.” He adjusts his crotch with a smirk. “Said it was the best oil change she’d ever had.”

I can’t help but laugh. “One of these days, fucking bitches in the bathroom is gonna come back to haunt you.”

Yukon grabs his dick through his coveralls. “Can’t help it if all the bitches want this.”

“Jesus Christ,” I snort, tossing the dirty rag at him. “You’re a fucking animal.”

“Just living the dream, brother.” He catches the rag and wipes his hands. “What’s up with you and the hot bitch you’ve been bangin’?”

My lips twitch at the mention of Demi. “Good.”

“Good?” Yukon repeats with a skeptical look. “Brother, you’ve been playing house with this chick for two weeks. That’s a record for you.”

I shrug. “She’s mine.”

He studies me for a moment, then shakes his head. “Pussy struck. Ain’t ever happening to me.”

Before I can tell him to get fucked, my phone starts ringing. I fish it out of my pocket, frowning when I see Rookie’s name on the screen.

“What?” I answer.

“Fuck, Klutch, I’m sorry,” Rookie’s voice comes through, panicked. “She fucking took off. Her and her friend. Some crazy bitch showed up at the restaurant and caused a scene, and by the time I handled it, they were gone.”

My blood runs cold. “What do you mean she took off?”

“They ditched me, man. I’ve been driving around for twenty minutes looking for them.”

“You had one fucking job,” I growl, my grip tightening on the phone. “One. Fucking. Job.”

“I know, I’m sorry?—“

“Shut up.” I cut him off, already moving toward the door. “If anything happens to her, you’re a fucking dead man. You hear me, prospect?”

“Fuck.” He groans.

I hang up and immediately text Demi.

Klutch: Where the fuck are you?

I watch the screen, seeing the message marked as read, but no reply comes. My jaw clenches as I type again.

Klutch: Answer me right fucking now.

After what feels like an eternity, her reply comes through.

Blue: I’m fine. With Kenny. Be back soon.

Oh, she thinks she’s fucking cute. “I’m going to spank her ass for this shit,” I growl, thumbs flying across the screen of my phone.

Klutch That’s not what I fucking asked. WHERE. ARE. YOU?

Dots dance across the screen then disappear. Then dance again before her reply comes through.

Blue: At my apartment. Checking on my dad. We’re leaving now.

Fuck. She went back to her apartment? After everything I’ve done to keep her away from there? I tap out another message, my anger growing.

Klutch: Don’t fucking move.

I shove my phone back in my pocket and turn to Yukon. “I gotta go. Demi ditched Rookie and went back to her apartment.”

Yukon’s brow shoots up. “Shit. Need backup?”

“No, I got this. Just tell my dad I’ll be back when I can.”

I don’t wait for his response, just storm out of the garage and jump on my bike. The engine roars to life, and I tear out of the parking lot, pushing the speed limit to get to her.

My mind races with all the shit that could have happened to her.

What the fuck was she thinking? That apartment isn’t safe.

I told her point blank this morning that whoever broke into her place could come back.

That Twenty G’s is a whole lot of fucking incentive to use her to get to him.

But does she fucking listen? Hell no. And ditching Rookie?

After I explained why I wanted a man on her?

My temper flares to new heights and rage burns in my chest, making it hard to breathe.

When I finally reach her building, I’m ready to tear her a new asshole. My first thought is how fucking childish can she be, but I quickly remember how young she actually is. Eighteen to my twenty-eight.

I kick down my kickstand, kill the motor, and suck in a deep breath to calm down. Or at least I try to. Unfortunately for my girl, it’s not fucking helping.

Jumping off my bike, I haul ass up the stairs, taking them two at a time. When I find her door unlocked I feel like I’m about to go nuclear. Stupid. Anyone could walk in while she’s here alone. Shaking my head, I shove it open, ready to chew her ass out only to freeze in my tracks at what I see.

My vision narrows to a pinpoint at the sight of a man with his fist raised, Demi on the floor beneath him, her lip bleeding and terror in her eyes.

Time slows down. Blood roars in my ears.

Without thought, I’m across the room. My hand closes around his raised fist before it can descend. With a brutal twist, I snap this fucker’s wrist like a twig.

His scream pierces the air as I pivot, using the momentum to slam him face-first into the yellowed wall. The drywall cracks from the impact, blood spraying from his shattered nose as he crumbles to the floor.

“Klutch!” Demi’s voice sounds far away.

The suited man is reaching for something inside his jacket. I don’t give him time to grab whatever it is. My boot connects with his knee, and the sickening crunch of ligaments tearing is followed by his howl of pain.

“You fucked up,” I growl. “Nobody touches my woman!”

In haze of rage I grab hold of the fat fucker’s hair and slam my knee into his face.

He falls lifeless to the floor. Turning my attention back to his partner on the ground, I kick him in the ribs— once, twice, and again.

Every strike is calculated for maximum pain.

These men hurt my woman. I have no doubt they had plans to do worse.

There’s only one appropriate response in my world. They have to fucking die.

I barely register Demi scrambling to check on McKenna. All I can see is red as I systematically work to break these motherfuckers who put their hands on my girl.

“Klutch, stop!” Demi’s voice finally cuts through the haze. “You’re going to kill them!”

I pause, my fist midair, and look up at her. Her face is tear-streaked, a bruise forming on her cheek, but her eyes are clear and locked on mine.

“Please,” she whispers. “Don’t.”

The fear in her voice pulls me back from the edge. I look down at the men beneath me, barely recognizable now. The suited one, who I realize only now is Frankie Fish, is gurgling. His enforcer isn’t moving at all.

Before I can decide what to do next, the door flies open again. Beast and Yukon burst in, weapons drawn, followed closely by Pee Wee.

“Jesus fuck,” Beast mutters, taking in the scene.

“Check on the girls,” I order, my voice eerily calm considering what I’ve just done.

Pee Wee immediately goes to McKenna, who’s starting to stir. Yukon secures the apartment while Beast comes to stand beside me, looking down at the bloodied men.

“This Frankie?” he asks, nudging the fat fucker with his boot.

I nod. “And his muscle.”

“Alive?”

“For now.”

Beast’s expression darkens as he looks over at Demi, noting her injuries. “Want me to finish it?”

Part of me wants to say yes. These men were going to hurt Demi in ways I don’t even want to think about. They deserve to die for that alone.

But then I look over at her again. She’s watching me, those blue eyes wide with fear.

“Not yet,” I finally say. “Need to take them to Denali.”

Frankie’s eyes widen at the mention of Prez’s name.

Good. He should be fucking scared.

“Blue,” my voice is void of emotion. “Go with Pee Wee. He’ll take you and McKenna to the clubhouse.”

She hesitates. “What about you?”

“I’ll be right behind you. Need to clean up this mess first.”

Tears spill down her cheeks. “Klutch, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have?—”

“Later,” I cut her off harshly.

She flinches and I feel like an asshole. After what she’s just been through she needs to be handled with care.

Fuck.

I suck in a slow deep breath and try again, more carefully this time, “We’ll talk about it later, baby. Right now, I need you to go with Pee Wee, okay?”

She nods, tears dripping down her cheeks, but thankfully allows Pee Wee to help her up. McKenna is fully conscious now, holding a hand to her head and looking dazed.

“Take my truck,” I tell my VP, tossing him the keys from my pocket. “It’s parked out front.”

As they head for the door, Demi suddenly stops. “Wait,” she starts, her voice shaky. “I need to know.” She looks directly at Frankie. “My dad. Where is he?”

Frankie spits blood onto the dirty carpet, a twisted smile forming on his battered face. “Dead.”

Demi’s face crumples, a wail of pure anguish tearing from her throat. Pee Wee catches her as her knees buckle, scooping her up into his arms.

“Get her out of here,” I growl, fighting the urge to put a bullet in Frankie’s head right here and now.

Once they’re gone, I turn back to the men on the floor. The rage I felt earlier is gone, replaced by the cold blooded killer I am.

“Bag ‘em,” I order Beast and Yukon. “We’re taking them to the crematory.”

“Denali okay that?” Yukon asks.

“He will.”

The enforcers move quickly, binding Johnny and Frankie with zip ties and hauling them to their feet.

“You’re dead,” Frankie manages to get out around his broken jaw. “All of you. You have no idea who I am… who I’m connected to.”

I step close to him, gripping his jaw hard enough to make him whimper. “No, motherfucker. You don’t know who we are. But you’re about to find out.”

I let go of him and watch as Beast and Yukon drag them out to the van parked in the alley behind the building.

Once they’re gone, I take a moment to survey the apartment. There’s blood on the walls, the furniture is overturned, Demi’s bag is spilled across the floor. The memory of her torn shirt makes my fists clench again.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. It’s Denali.

“Yeah,” I answer.

“Pee Wee just called. The girls okay?”

“Shaken up. Demi took a few hits. McKenna might have a concussion. They’ll be alright.” Physically anyway. Emotionally? I’m not sure my baby will ever be the same.

“And Frankie?”

“Beast and Yukon are bringing him and his partner to the crematory now.”

There’s a pause. “You can’t kill him, Klutch. He works for the Valenciaga family. He’s their right hand man.”

“Valenciaga can fuck off,” I snap. “They put their hands on my girl, D. They were going to rape them–both of them.” I pause, breathing heavily.

“Klutch–”

“He killed her father! I know you’re trying to keep the peace, D, but I’m about to send a real clear fucking message about what happens when you mess Bastard Saints property.”

The only sound is Denali breathing. “Yeah. Just know this is going to cause blowback.”

I’ve already weighed the consequences and I don’t give a flying fuck. Nobody touches my girl and lives to tell the tale. No. Fucking. Body.

“Can’t let this slide, Prez. Not this time.” I’m not willing to let this go.

“I know.” He hangs up.

I take one last look around the apartment just as Diablo and his crew come in. “You got this?” I ask the cleaner unnecessarily.

“Yep. You can take off. We’ll get this all cleaned up.”

“Thanks, brother.” I’m about to head for the door when something catches my eye. On the floor is Demi’s envelope she’s been stuffing with bills. I pick it up and count out nearly ten grand.

Fuck me.

My girl’s pop is dead.

After all her hard work, Frankie killed him anyway.