Dix: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Reckless Souls MC Book 7), page 13
Benedicto scoffs.
I hold up the phone and let her last message play again, watching both men’s eyes go wide with realization and fear.
“She wouldn’t be calling me if I was there with her, kidnapping her. I would never do that to her.”
Arturo scans my face for an extended moment before he relaxes. “Shit. Bene, get your brother on the phone. Now.”
My chest feels tight and I say, “I’m going to find her.” I think about where Valentina is, who has her and how fucking terrified she must be. “She’s strong and she’s tough, but this isn’t about her.”
“Uhm, guys?” Gia interrupts again, and this time her gaze is deadly fucking serious.
“What’s up, babe?” Preacher goes to her, a light hand on her lower back.
Gia smiles at him before her gaze slides to Ace. “I managed to trace the shooters from the port.” Her gaze bounces between Ace and Arturo, silently asking if it’s okay to speak in front of them.
Ace gives a short nod toward Arturo. “It’s his shipment. He needs to know who tried to fuck it up.”
Gia nods and lets out a fortifying breath. “Okay. I traced them back from the port using street cameras, ATM cameras, and even tapping into a few doorbell cams until I managed to get eyes on them without masks.”
She steps away from Preacher and moves across the room to stand beside Ace, allowing him to see the tablet in her hand. “Here they are, suiting up for whatever they were planning to do at the port. I confirmed that this guy and that guy are the two taken down by Dix and Banger.”
We all gather around to see the footage, including Arturo and Benedicto. Inside a vacant parking lot, we see four gangbangers with face tattoos and black clothing. The fifth man with them is unmistakable.
“Emiliano,” I growl and look at Arturo. “Your own fucking son tried to sabotage the shipment. And then he tried to kill me?”
Arturo's face pales as he stares at the screen, his hands shaking slightly. Benedicto steps forward, his face a mask of anger.
“Emiliano has always been a liability,” he growls. “I told you not to trust him, Papa. Now, look what he’s done.”
Ace steps forward, his expression cold. “We need to deal with this, now. We can't let Emiliano get away with this.”
Preacher nods in agreement. “I’ll handle it,” he says. “I’ll find him and bring him in.”
I shake my head. “No, we can’t risk that. Emiliano is dangerous, and he’s clearly kidnapped Valentina. We need to take him out.”
There’s a tense silence in the room as everyone considers the options. Finally, Arturo speaks up. “I’ll take care of him. He’s my son,” he says. “I’ll talk to Emiliano and make sure he understands the consequences of his actions.”
There’s a sense of unease in the room as everyone silently contemplates the plan. No one wants to think about what might happen if Emiliano refuses to back down.
After the Rojas men leave the clubhouse, Ace turns to Preacher. “Get with Nova and keep an eye on that old man,” he says quietly. “Let me know if he does anything stupid.”
Preacher nods, his expression serious. “I will.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Valentina
“You have to know that you won’t get away with this,” I say to one of the two guards. They’ve kept me locked up in this room around the clock. “My brother drugged me. Then he kidnapped me and put me on a plane back to Colombia without my consent or my father’s knowledge. You’re as good as dead.”
The man doesn’t budge, he doesn’t blink, but a tiny bob of his Adam’s apple tells me he’s heard me and understands. These guards are young—sicarios—that work for my brother.
I want to scream. I’m so angry, and I feel so fucking helpless against Emiliano. Waking up over a week ago to find myself back in Colombia was even more shocking than the fact that my brother had orchestrated it.
“I don’t know what Emiliano told you, but he’s not in charge. He will never be.” Especially not now. “So whatever he promised you, he can’t possibly give it to you.”
The guy does a good impersonation of a statue, staying quiet and avoiding my gaze.
“Fine,” I sneer, fed up with this bullshit. “Fuck you. Just remember when you're begging for your life, when you’re on your last breath, that I offered you a way to save yourself.”
That’s how my conversations have been for the past few days. One guard after another standing sentry inside the room, blank-faced and silent for hours on end.
When the shift changes at one, a new guard comes in with a tray of food. “Lonche,” he growls in Spanish and drops the plate down like he wants to be anywhere but here. “Disfruta.”
Disfruta, my ass.
Today, I’ll try kindness—or rather—manipulation. “Thank you for lunch,” I say sweetly in Spanish. “You know, you could just let me go. Go to the bathroom or take an important call, and I’ll leave and you get to live to see another day.”
The guard doesn’t acknowledge my words, which only fuels my rage. It makes me even more angry, but I know men like these guards. They respect strength—not fury. It’s viewed as a weakness.
I'm trapped in this luxurious room feeling like a caged animal. I chomp down on the chicken, silently challenging his authority.
His eyes follow my every move as he searches for a sign of compliance. I wait for him to let his guard down, and then I unleash my fury.
With a horrific scream, I fling the plate and the food across the room. I scan the room with wide eyes, taking in all the bullshit.
The full-length cheval mirror, the expensive art hanging on the walls, the Boca do Lobo furniture, all of it disgusts me. I race around the room like a maniac, destroying everything in my path.
I attack the designer clothes hanging on the freestanding wardrobe rack, ripping the fabric apart with each scream until nothing but tatters remain.
The guard opens the door to stop me, but I scream at him like a woman possessed, throwing him off. I continue my rampage, tearing the comforter off the bed to shred it, but it’s too thick, so I throw it down in frustration.
Thirty minutes later, every inch of the room is a disaster. I sit on the damask stool with stuffing poking out and cross my legs, angry and exhausted, with tears streaking down my cheeks.
I can hear my heart pounding in my ears as I take in the destruction around me. The sound of my own breathing is ragged and uneven. It’s like a wild animal has taken over my body, and I can’t control it.
I know I’m risking everything by doing this, but I don’t care. This is my only way to show them I won’t be controlled anymore. I won’t be a pawn in their game. I'll fight back with everything I have, even if it means destroying everything in my path.
My brother will pay for what he’s done.
I crawl onto the bare bed and let exhaustion take over. But my mind is awake and focusing on one person. Dix. His face, his half-smile that never fails to make my heart flutter...I’m consumed with thoughts of him.
Finally, after a few tearful minutes, I drift off to sleep.
Dix hovers above me, his strong arms bracketing my body, smiling down at me with love and lust in his eyes.
“Missed you, Valentine.” He licks his lips and lowers his head, capturing my lips with a ferocious hunger that captivates me. I arch into him, wrapping my arms around him. Dix moans into my mouth and lowers his body to mine. He’s hard behind his zipper and pressing it between my thighs.
“I’ve missed you,” I whisper the moment our lips separate. “So fucking much.”
“I’m here now, babe.” His hands roam my body, setting me on fire as he takes his time exploring each of my curves. His urgent need for me is obvious as he teases my nipples until they are stiff and aching.
I moan his name and arch into him as he takes me in with all the love and passion we share. I give myself to him at that moment, offering him all of me. His stubble tickles my belly as he trails sweet kisses downward, removing my clothing with each step until I'm laid bare and ready for him. “I've missed you so much and this sweet pussy,” he growls as his broad shoulders part my thighs and his tongue finds my center.
My breath quickens in anticipation as he laps against me and a single finger eases inside of me, sending tiny shocks through my veins as he flicks his tongue against my clit. I'm teetering on the edge of orgasm, the anticipation making my toes curl.
His moans vibrate through me and suddenly, I’m over the edge, screaming out words of pleasure as I hold onto his head tightly, desperately grinding out the intense sensations that are pummeling me from all sides.
He refuses to slow down, continuing to lick and caress me until the last wave of pleasure washes over me, leaving me breathless.
I open my eyes to find him looking at me with his tongue peeking between his lips, his face glistening with my juices. I lean forward and suck his tongue hungrily, savoring the taste of myself on him until he pulls away. “See how good you taste, Valentine?”
My heart skips a beat as I gaze up at him, the desire in my eyes unmistakable. “Fuck me,” I whisper.
He smiles down at me before pressing a gentle kiss to both of my breasts. “Not yet,” he says and returns his mouth to mine in a long, slow kiss that makes every inch of my skin tingle with need.
“I need to feel you, Dix,” I murmur against his lips. “Fuck me, please.”
He strips naked instantly, his body a work of art. I know what’s coming, and it’s more than just sex. He slides in with one smooth thrust, his thick cock sending me into ecstasy.
“Si! Si!” I cry out in delight as he pushes into me. His gaze narrows, and he licks his lips.
“Best fucking cunt on earth,” he breathes.
I wrap my legs around him tighter and whisper, “I love this…I love you.”
His movements increase in intensity as his mouth curls into a crooked smile. “I love you too, Valentina.” ,
“Dix,” I moan as the waves of pleasure start to take over my being.
“Come for me, my sweet Valentine. Come on my cock.” He flashes a heart-stopping smile before his lips crash down over mine, his powerful thrusts pushing me to the brink of heaven.
I succumb to the pleasure as Dix thrusts deeper and deeper into my soul. “Oh Dix!”
He growls when I dig my heels into his ass cheeks and pull up against him, grinding his cock like a feral animal in heat. “Oh, my sweet Valentine…”
His thrusts become faster and more urgent, sending me into an inferno of pleasure that consumes us both and I let go…“Dix! Dix! Ayudame! Dix!” I scream. I'm falling, plummeting through the air, and I can’t see anything but darkness.
My eyes fling open, and I jerk upright, gasping for air. My chest heaves as I try to calm my racing heart. I force myself to take slow, deep breaths, struggling to regain control over my body. I suck in a few more deep breaths as the room comes into focus and the reality of where I am comes back to me.
Columbia.
Alone.
I run my fingers through my sweaty hair, trying to brush away the lingering remnants of the nightmare. As I sit here, feeling vulnerable and exposed, I know I can’t let Emiliano or his men hold me back. I need to do whatever it takes to get back to America, to get back to Dix.
I won’t give up, not now, not ever.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Dix
There’s no fucking word from Valentina, and I’m losing my goddamn mind.
Despite Arturo’s assurance that his people are out on the streets searching for his son, we also have people searching for Emiliano, but that little shit is hiding deep underground. I refuse to stop hunting that asshole until I know that Valentina is safe, and if I never get that assurance, I will hunt that motherfucker down until he’s six feet under.
Every night for nearly two weeks, after MC business is done for the night–not that it’s ever truly done, but when all the brothers head home to their women–I hit the streets.
I search every dive bar, strip club and whore house in Angel Harbor and beyond, searching for the little shitstain who kidnapped his own fucking sister. On every ride my knuckles grip the handlebars until they’re white and stiff, aching like a son of a bitch.
When I find Emiliano, I’m going to kill him. It’s why I go out and search for him on my own. Ace hasn’t given me the green light to fuck him up. He wants to give Arturo the chance to make it right—whatever the fuck that means.
For me, it means I need to find him, find out where he took Valentina, kill the bastard, and get rid of the body on my own. No brothers involved. Easy peasy. She’ll be back in my arms before anyone knows what happened.
I just hope that when I find Valentina, she’ll forgive me.
Tonight I’m heading north in search of Emiliano. I’ve targeted plenty of small beach communities where people don’t ask a lot of questions as long as you can pay to stay or eat. If he’s hiding somewhere, this place is a good bet.
Yet, even though I’m out looking night after night, he’s nowhere to be found. I know he’s out there somewhere, though. If Arturo and Benedicto have found him, they’d let us know immediately to avoid the risk of us fucking them over when the next shipment arrives.
My fingers itch to get to Emiliano first, to find him and beat his ass. To tear his fucking arms from his body and beat him with them for daring to put his hands on my woman, for taking her against her will.
I leave the beach bar without any answers, and try Valentina’s phone again, but she doesn’t answer. I know I should stop calling, but I can’t. I don’t even dial her main phone, so it’s not like I can hear her sexy accent on her greeting. It’s just some automated message telling me what I don’t want to hear right now.
“Mother fucker isn’t here,” I growl to myself and get back on my bike, heading further north. I check the beach bars for the rich and the poor, the biker bars, and even the tents that crop up on the beach when the cops stop looking, and he’s not there, either.
No one has seen him or anyone matching his description in the past week, so I have to wonder, if he’s not with his family and he’s not hiding out nearby, where the fuck is he?
It’s getting late, or early depending on how you look at it, when I turn around and head south on the PCH. I check out the abandoned trailers, the rental homes, and the camping grounds that cater to RV’ing tourists and retirees. Nothing.
A whole lot of nothing.
The sun starts to streak across the sky by the time I make it back to the clubhouse, exhausted and discouraged. Emiliano gets to live another day, which pisses me off to no end. I’m in a bad mood and in desperate need of coffee when I stomp inside. Then I’m damn near run over by Wild Man.
“Whoa,” I say, my hands on his chest. “Where’s the fire?”
Wild Man steps back, his eyes wide before he rolls them. “I’ve been looking all over for you, brother. Where the fuck you been?”
“Around,” I say vaguely. “What’s up?”
“I found something interesting.” Wild Man looks up and follows my gaze to the coffee pot behind the bar. “You’ve been out all night again.” Wild Man sighs heavily and drops down in the closest chair. It’s not a question, and I’m grateful because it means I don’t have to lie to him.
“What did you find,” I ask and pour a mug of coffee, quickly draining it and refilling it. I feel his gaze on me, but I focus on the coffee as I join him at the table.
“So,” he begins with that evil genius smile he gets when he figures out some magic computer shit. “I found a private flight that took off about an hour after your call with Valentina.”
I froze and let the words sink in. “He took her out of California.” Not just that. “Out of the country?”
Wild Man nods. “And that’s not the most interesting part. Why did it take an hour for the flight to leave? Kidnapping someone is a bit of a fucking emergency, right? And Long Beach has a few private strips that are a hell of a lot closer. Yet this flight took off from Burbank. Why?”
I turn over the words in my mind trying to figure out what Wild Man’s getting at.
“I need more fucking coffee,” I growl and go pour the rest of the pot into my mug. My legs stopped halfway back to the table. “That motherfucker has help.”
Wild Man flashes a satisfied smile. “Exactly. I have Gia scouring the footage near Burbank to figure out who. But the flight was headed to Colombia. Just two passengers and the pilot, not even a fucking flight attendant.”
“Shit.” I jump to my feet and step back to avoid the coffee sloshing over the edge of the mug. “Get me on the next flight to Colombia. I have to find her and get her back. Who knows what that asshole has planned for her.”
He sighs, and I know I’m gonna hate what he’s about to say next. “We should probably talk to Ace about this, especially given your late-night activities.”
“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, brother.”
“Fine,” he throws his hands up. “Keep your secrets, Dix. Just know I have eyes everywhere.” He pushes up to his feet and grabs the tablet. “And I have to tell Ace.”
I know he’s right. I fucking hate it, but given everything else, the last thing I need to do is piss off my Prez. Again. Who also happens to be my best friend. “Fine. Let’s go.”
Wild Man and I find Ace outside with Kenna in his arms and fused to his lips. His hands grip her ass as he dips her over his arm, and dammit, it just makes me miss Valentina even more. My hands bunch and flex in anticipation, but I know if I want Ace on my side, interrupting his morning goodbye kiss with his woman is a bad fucking way to get it.
Thankfully, the need for oxygen pulls them apart, but the look of love shining on Kenna’s face makes my heart tumble over in my chest. Will Valentina and I ever be able to be so open and free with our affection?
“All right, big guy,” Kenna says to him. “I need to get over to the bakery. Maven and Willow are picking out new appliances today, so I’m tasked with keeping the contractors in line.” Then she grins at him. “I love bossing people around.”
