Viper's Kiss (Back Down Devil MC #8)(7)



“It’s not anything crazy,” Miller said.

“How big?” Blaine asked.

“Box truck size.”

“Fuck,” Blaine said. “That’s…”

“We’ll be out of Frelen jurisdiction,” Miller said. “For most of the ride. I have an idea to help take the heat off us a little.”

“Listen,” Blaine said, “Ethan isn’t going to buy anything we do. We leave town, he’s going to be on us. He’s going call in favors. He’ll do whatever, Miller. You don’t know how deep and dark this guy will go.”

“How do you know?” Gaige asked.

Blaine looked at Gaige. “Trust me, brother, I know. He wants to make a name for himself in this town. Anything to get us…”

“We have to do it,” Miller said. “There’s no question on that. We can vote it if anyone wants to, but I’m telling you guys, we have to help move these weapons. To protect two charters. To protect ourselves. These other crews are going to rebuild and push again. If they don’t, others will.”

“What about those guys in Rusted Devil?” Blaine asked. “Our boy Jake went up there and took care of business.”

“They still have cartel issues,” Gaige said.

“We’re not mixing clubs,” Miller said. “Let me work on the details for this run. Everyone keep their eyes open and their noses out of shit.”

Blaine raised his hand. “What about *? Because if I have to keep my nose out of *, I’ll kill myself.”

Everyone laughed.

“Get the f*ck out of here,” Miller said. He quickly grabbed for Blaine. “Not you.”

“Ah, shit,” Blaine said. “Am I in trouble, Miller?”

“Maybe.” Miller looked away. “Hey, Jace! Send a prospect in here with a couple’a shots of whiskey.”

Blaine then sat in silence with Miller. It was uncomfortable. Miller was a damn good man, a powerful President, but also scary as f*ck. He didn’t need bulging muscles and tats running all over his body. He had the power of silence. The kind of guy that could sit there and not say a word but still command the room.

Nothing could scare Blaine though. He’d been there, done that, twice even. That was just how his life had been set up. He rubbed his jaw and thought about Ethan.

Excuse me, Chief Ethan now.

They had been on the streets for years together. Busting up gangs, stopping murders, investigating the nastiest stuff that nobody else wanted. Hell, it was those long nights that pushed Blaine to the other side of the law. The nights where they’d find a beautiful young woman huddled up because of shit some * had done to her. Then they’d catch the guy and they couldn’t hurt him - because of the law - and then the guy would go to trial and weasel his way off.

She had it coming.

She teased me, okay?

She was just drunk…

She wanted it.

There were times when Blaine would show up to court to watch it all unfold. But when cases started to turn and shit went sideways he realized that law and justice was nothing but a mere cloak that covered some deep seeded corruption. And when he pushed back…

“You okay?” Miller asked. “You look ready to cry.”

Blaine grinned. “Just thinking about those kitties, Miller. One had herself pierced down there. Goddamn.”

“Nothing you ain’t seen before.”

“I know. But it still surprises me.”

A prospect came into the room and put two shot glasses down on the table.

“What’s this about?” Blaine asked.

“I know where you have to go now, brother,” Miller said. “You have to step back into that darkness.”

“No,” Blaine said. “I don’t do that. I don’t step back. I just go forward. The problem though? Everything is round. The world is round. The sun goes around. The calendar repeats itself. I go forward, I’m forced to go around.”

“You know, you’re actually pretty smart when you’re not acting like an *.”

“Define *,” Blaine said.

“Getting caught with five strippers and then fooling around with them in a holding cell.”

“You say *… I say opportunity taken advantage of.”

Miller shook his head. “Have a shot and ask me.”

“Ask you what?”

“I can see it burning in your eyes.”

Blaine grinned ear to ear. He threw the shot glass back and flipped it upside down. He folded his hands and leaned in a little even though he and Miller were alone.

“Is she still full?” he asked.

“Ella?”

Blaine nodded.

“Yeah. She’s still full, Blaine. She’s still breastfeeding Beck.”

Blaine ran a hand across his face. “Just let me… just once.”

“You want a taste.”

“Yes.”

Miller leaned in. “No.”

“Goddammit, Miller.”

“You get to ask once a day, that was our deal, right? If you ask again, I’m going to make the other side of your face match what those cops did.”

“Got it,” Blaine said. “Now what the hell do you really want me alone for?”

London Casey & Karol's Books