Ace (Syns of Desert Angels MC Book 1) Read online

Page 6


  Without it, we would be just another kingdom among many. With it, we have become unique and special in the history of how we have been governed. A Member takes this oath knowing that it is not just words, but that someday, it may be required of them to give their very life in support and defense of this kingdom.

  Members take this with the requisite seriousness then, and countless numbers of brothers and sisters have done so with great honor and great sacrifice over the course of the history of our empire.

  The freedom, rights and responsibilities encompassed in the oath have been threatened in the past by many enemies - our Members have defended it with their lives. It is because of them that the hopes and dreams of all our Members have time and security to continue to thrive within this kingdom.

  Today, we ask Brooke Wendell to take this oath. Today, we gain a new sister.”

  The room is silent as Jorge steps out from behind the curtain, escorting a woman wearing a white dress towards the podium.

  _____________________

  Mila

  I lean forward and grab Milo’s hand across the table as dad steps out with Brooke. The harsh lighting revealing his true age. Losing mom took a toll on all of us, especially dad. His hand is wrapped around hers as they stop in front of Marco.

  We give each other a sad smile and squeeze each other’s hand tightly.

  All the grief, frustration, and anger ebb and flow as we watch our father take the next step in his life. One that doesn’t include mom. Her murder only stokes my anger, keeping my rage ready for the moment I will need it.

  “Brooke,” Marco continues, turning towards her, “today, you will make an oath to solemnly swear to support and defend the empire against all enemies that threaten to attack the sanctity of our kingdom. You will bear true faith and allegiance to the same brothers and sisters that take this obligation freely, without any reservations or purpose of evasion, and will faithfully accept the duties of the oath upon which you are about to enter. Do you accept this and give your word as bond?”

  Brooke and dad share a sweet look before she answers, “I do.” Marco smiles as he claps dad on the back.

  “To honor the acceptance of the oath, Brooke will now receive her mark.” The three of them move towards the center of the stage where she will be branded.

  _____________________

  Cole

  The man finishes speaking and helps the woman, Brooke, gather her hair into a hair bow on the top of her head and get to her knees.

  She leans her head forward on the black block before her, notching her neck between the curved edges. Jorge slips on some sterile gloves, leaning over and rubbing something on the back of her neck as he whispers in her ear.

  She nods and grips the side of the block, her knuckles going white. Standing, he looks over towards the table where she sits. They stare back at him, Mila giving a small nod, and Milo looking away.

  “What the fuck are they doin’?” Dice stares intently as Jorge grabs a metal brander from the fire.

  I stare as he leans over Brooke, bringing the brander closer to her skin. The sizzling sound of burning flesh erupts at the first touch when he presses the orange and yellow end against her nape. Smoke escapes on contact, but she makes no sound. Her knuckles turning whiter the longer Jorge holds the brander against her skin.

  All of us are rendered speechless, staring at the stage while the putrid scent wafts through the room. Why the fuck would anyone want this?

  “I think... we are pussies,” Gibbs rubs the back of his neck.

  I chuckle and realization washes over me. Mila’s neck. Snapping my gaze back to her, I see her and Milo rise as the room stands, erupting into applause. They begin making their way out of the room with two people tailing them.

  My gaze follows them when they pass, her eyes falling on me. Her footsteps never falter as she gives me a questioning look. She exits the Grand Hall, and I see it on her neck. The cluster of inverted triangles.

  She now belongs to Syn.

  _____________________

  Mila

  I struggle to keep my stride once my eyes connected with his.

  Why is he here?

  I’m disappointed at my body’s response to seeing him, but don’t complain as I take him in. Cole’s never worn a tux in the years I’ve known him so it’s almost mind blowing to see him in something other than his standard stained jeans and whatever random shirt he could find.

  His normally disheveled sun kissed hair is slicked back in a messy pompadour style. He must’ve run his fingers through it with some water. I take in his angular jawline that’s proportional to his cheekbones.

  I couldn’t have sculpted a better face if I tried.

  Those red lips boast a cut framed by his scruff like a prized possession. His bruises complete the badass appeal. He cleans up nice.

  Beside him is the man that I had my legs wrapped around not too long ago, his face contorted with a nasty scowl. I make note of his angry stance as I keep walking.

  I could feel Cole’s broody eyes follow my every move until we lose contact as I pass through the double doors with my team. Seeing him in full lighting only served as a reminder that he’s been perfectly fine the last five years.

  “One of the guys I shot is here,” I inform my brother as I check my clip.

  “Who are we talking about?” Ness asked, checking herself out in one of the many hallway mirrors.

  “Milo got us into some trouble when we got here. I got us out of it.”

  “Liar,” Milo flashes his dazzling smile. I give him a deadpan stare, calling him on his bullshit.

  “Was she worth it?” Ness questions. Milo looks disappointed at the memory. His facial expressions make her howl with laughter. Dash just shakes his head, not interested in my brother’s sex fiascos.

  “This is fantastic,” Ness titters. “I bet he’s pissed.”

  “Definitely pissed,” Milo tilts his head behind us as my almost lover emerges from the room with heavy footsteps.

  “He’s so large. A bull in a china shop,” Ness’ Irish accent was heavy on her words.

  “Careful. Your Irish is showing,” I mock her accent.

  “You good?” Milo’s question makes me smile.

  “Clip is full,” I tell him, smoothing my dress back into place.

  “Need us to stay?” I shake my head, waving them off.

  “We’ll meet you there.”

  “Caw if you need me, okay? See you in a bit.” Milo and Dash walk down the hall to the War Room.

  “Little bull is ready to charge,” Ness leans against the wall. I mirror her comfortable stance as dark eyes find mine, stomping closer with anger. “Think he’ll let me make it better?” I lift my shoulders and laugh at my friend.

  “Ask him.”

  “You,” he seethes, closing the space between us, waving a lone finger in my face. I lean off the wall to greet him. His towering figure so close, I’m forced to look up.

  “How’s the arm?”

  His nostrils flare and he clenches his hands into fists. I quirk an eyebrow, issuing a silent challenge.

  Do it. I dare you.

  “Brass,” I hear the command in the familiar timbre of his husky voice.

  “Gentlemen.” I step away from him, my gaze landing on Cole. He looked comfortable standing next to the man that looked like an older version of him.

  Is that…? I was cockstruck when I saw him in his tux that I didn’t realize it before.

  He’s with them. That’s his dad.

  Pity bloomed in my chest before I scowled with disgust.

  He chose his father over us? Over me?

  “I’m Mila. This is Ness,” I gesture over my shoulder. “We are here to escort you. Please follow us.”

  Chapter 4

  Cole

  She now knows what I’ve always known. I knew it the minute she looked at me with a mixture of pity and disgust.

  Biker trash.

  I follow behind Mila closely, watching he
r hips and arms sway in tandem as she guides us forward. Staring at her tattoo up close, I can’t believe she’s put such a beautiful, powerful piece on her back. The girl I remembered fought me when I got my first tattoo. Said I was too young to understand the permanence of the mark. She was right. I fucking loathe that tattoo now.

  I try to match the sweet and funny girl with the melodic laugh to this hardened woman before me. And I can’t. This woman isn’t the same one that left five years ago. This one is jaded, a game changer. The one that redefines everything I thought I knew about her.

  She opens a door and gestures for us to walk inside. We all stop, staring at her. The stories of the signature Syndicate ambush run through my mind as she looks at us with impatience.

  “Ladies first,” Rook breaks the silence.

  “I’ll go halt the firing squad,” Ness says sarcastically as she walks through. Mila chuckles and gestures for us to follow. I hang back as everyone walks inside.

  “You,” I pull her back before she walks in, caging her against the wall with my hands. She tilts her head up to stare at me. Her features being the perfect amount of strength with a little trace of softness.

  My girl is still in there.

  “What do you want, Cole?”

  “I told you that last night. Forgiveness.”

  “No. Now go inside,” she tells me with a sigh.

  “Tell me why,” I demand, giving her space. She takes a deep breath, her shoulders sagging before she returns to her formal posture.

  “I’m not ready to face this. Don’t make me,” she whispers softly, almost pleading.

  Cupping her cheek, I pull her closer, breathing in the scent of her lip gloss. “Let’s face it together. You need to know why I did it.” Her eyes scan my face, looking for anything that could tell her I was lying. I watched as all of her constructed walls fall into place, effectively shuttering her from me.

  “No,” she pulls away. “You left. That was it for us. I got the message loud and clear. I’m not going to talk to you about this, so you can justify what happened or make an excuse. I’ve moved forward. You should do the same.”

  “No.”

  “No?” She questions incredulously.

  “You fuckin’ heard me. No. We are goin’ to work through this. It’s complicated, but I want you to know why. I didn’t stop lovin’ you. It wasn’t anythin’ you di-”

  “Complicated? Are you fucking serious? I’m going to assume using a fucking phone was too complicated for you as well.”

  “Mila, that’s no-”

  “This conversation is over.” She turns back to the door and I pull her back to me, caressing the fabric of her dress against her stomach.

  “This isn’t over. You need to know some things and learn to stop interruptin’ me,” I spank her ass before releasing her and holding the door open.

  Inside we are greeted by several men, sitting on one side of a long table. Mila steps to the side, waiting as I walk into the room.

  “Nice of you to join us,” Jorge glares at me, standing to plant a kiss on Mila’s forehead.

  Fuck.

  “Please,” he gestures to the empty seats in front of them. I move to the chair that puts me in her peripherals. “Can you get the door, dear?”

  The loud click echoes throughout the silent room as she locks us all inside. Heels clack on the floor, alerting us to her movements, the slit in her dress revealing nothing but leg as she joins her brother on the opposite side of the table.

  Damn.

  Jorge clears his throat. I mimic him sitting up and focusing on the table because nothing kills a boner quite like a father catching you checking out his daughter. Rook, Dice, and Brass are still staring at her. Lust, intrigue, and anger coloring their features.

  “Hey,” I nudge them. “Focus.”

  “Thank you all for coming,” a redheaded man opens the conversation. “I’m Reynard. This is Lachlan and Jorge. Our associates in the back are Milo, Dash, Ness, and Mila,” Reynard rattles off their names even though they need no introduction. Jorge was still giving me the death stare from across the table.

  “Bodi,” my ol’ man clears his throat. They stare at him, waiting for him to continue.

  “Gibbs, Rook, Brass, Dice and Ace,” Gibbs points as he introduces us. I almost chuckle because Gibbs is always acting like the actual President while Bodi acts like a goddamn child. It’s solely because of Gibbs that Bodi is even alive.

  Mila’s eyes find mine, quirking an eyebrow at my road name. Seemingly unimpressed.

  It’s fuckin’ impressive.

  “Pleasure,” Reynard says dryly, clearly unamused with Bodi’s bullshit. “We’ve called you here to discuss a very delicate matter with your group. We understand that you are interested in negotiating terms with the Italians to use your associates as transportation across county lines.”

  “And where did you hear that?” Bodi leans his arms on the table, attempting to act like he isn’t unsettled like the rest of us.

  “That’s neither here nor there. We would like to offer you an opportunity in return for your assistance with our delicate matter.”

  “Okay. I’ll bite. What’s the proposal?”

  “We would like for your group to negotiate terms with the Italians with the leverage we will provide you, of course, to gain their trust and access to their operations. Our team will work alongside yours as they have something that we are looking for. In return, we will give you a monthly stipend for as long as this operation takes.”

  Bodi leans back in his chair, stroking his beard. “Money aside. Why should we help you? Your girl back there shot my men.”

  “Because,” Jorge leans forward, his voice deadly, his gaze shifting to Bodi. “Your men threw the first punch. We could consider that an act of war. Crush your little club for assaulting a member of the Syndicate. For assaulting my son.” The lethality behind those two words struck me deep.

  “She shot me in the fuckin’ shoulder,” Brass seethed, pointing a finger at Mila.

  “I grazed you,” Mila smooches at Brass. Milo shakes his head, smirking at my brother.

  “Well, your boy slept with someone that is DAMC property,” Gibbs tossed back.

  “She wasn’t claimed, married, or wearing a cut. Didn’t even have one of those little tramp stamps your biker bitches get,” Milo shrugged. “She certainly didn’t act like she belonged to any of you.”

  “Fuckin’ prick!” Rook jumped up at his words, the force making his chair hit the wall behind us. We clamor to stop him before he lurches across the table. Reynard, Lachlan, and Jorge remain eerily calm at the scene.

  The unmistakable click of a gun made us all freeze.

  “Sit. Down,” Mila ordered, her gun trained on Rook.

  I stare at her. The confident yet angelic way she looks with the gun in her hand, aimed directly at my brother. Parts of me equally furious that she even drew on us and turned on at the darkness that’s swirling around her. It’s so visible that I can see her eyes darkening as the beast snakes his hands around her body, consuming her.

  She was enjoying the power of holding life and death in her hands. It’s intoxicating, like the sweetest poison you’ll ever taste. I know because that same darkness lives within me. You can only trap a beast so long before he breaks free. Judging by the darkness in her eyes, and the way she’s checked out from here; her’s broke free.

  “Motherfucker, sit down. I ain’t gettin’ shot twice,” Brass mutters. “Stupid ass.”

  “We’re good,” Dice holds his hands up at Mila.

  “We’re unarmed and we’re good,” Bodi says, seeing what I see as he gestures for us to sit back down. The newborn tension in the room was almost suffocating.

  “Stand down,” Reynard orders. Mila lowers her gun, lifting her dress to place her gun back in the lace holster wrapped around her succulent thigh. The thighs I want to be buried in.

  “That’s where the gun came from,” Rook whispers, eyeing Mila up and down.

&n
bsp; Brass smacks him upside the head. “Motherfucker, tryin’ to get us killed.”

  “Enough,” Gibbs orders. “How do you plan on this workin’ out?”

  “Ah. Now you’re asking the right questions,” Lachlan speaks with his thick Irish brogue, opening a file before him. Flipping through papers, each with our pictures clipped to them. “Our team will join your group for the duration of this operation, assuming roles within your world.

  Based upon our extensive research, we know that you own and operate a few local businesses. A particular body shop and towing company ran by Bodi that employs Rook, Tank, and Ace. A tattoo parlor, Lotus, ran by a Diesel and Brass. The pawn shop across from the high school is ran by Gibbs and Jolk. The Dark Horse bar, opened a year ago in a prime downtown location, ran by Rig and Dimebag. And, I believe, a strip club, the uh-, Clam Slam, is operated by Dice and Joanna.

  Our team will enter under the guise of nomads from a sister charter, traveling with their siblings. They will stay under the cover of your club as our acting agents until we’ve retrieved what we require unless otherwise decided. While they are present, they are our proxy for decisions that require our input.

  According to our information, you are two men down because of our associates. We are willing to compensate for your two men by employing Mila at Lotus and Ness at the pawn shop. They understand that ladies in your circle are to be seen and not heard and have accepted those terms.” I stare at Mila, attempting to imagine her as a compliant club bitch.

  Not happenin’.

  “Dash and Milo will be at your service for the body shop and will assume any regular duties that your men perform, both as outlaws and simpletons.

  Once we have what we want, our team will disengage. However, if our team feels they’ve been compromised in any way, they are able to initiate extrication. Any questions?”

  “Why don’t you just crush them?” I make myself known.

  “We’re businessmen. We don’t take unnecessary risk.”