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Bud (Rolling Thunder Motorcycle Club Book 10) Page 2
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Manuel didn’t look like he was of a mind to accept, so Bud added, “My daughter lives in Chattanooga and is married to their enforcer. One of the gangs recently grabbed her with the intention of… doing bad things.” Bud couldn’t say the word rape in relation to his Angel, much less the prospect of them killing her. He passed off the hesitation with a shrug. “She killed the five men who kidnapped her so there wasn’t much for me to do once we got her back, but I’d just as soon not have to live through another phone call like that.”
“I’ll have my snipers look it over. No promises.”
There was always a party when Bud visited. A few hours into it and just after midnight, Bud, Arturo, and Manuel left the raucous craziness for the media room upon Arturo’s signal. The men spoke rapid-fire Spanish to the operator as they all took a seat — Bud had picked up a decent amount of Spanish over the years, and was pretty sure the operator was assuring them everything was on schedule. Their boat would meet the RTMC’s borrowed yacht at coordinates randomly chosen within a twenty-square mile area.
“The coordinates went out an hour ago on schedule,” Arturo told Bud. “Our boat’s about a mile out.”
Bud hoped his men hadn’t run into trouble and would make the drop-off on time, but with everyone in the room able to smell stress and unease, he didn’t let himself consider any other possibility. His men had made this trip once or twice a year for decades and they knew the drill.
“Arturo tells me you’ve replaced your Brain with a Shadow.”
“We have. It’s impossible to survive without a hacker in today’s landscape.”
“You trust him?”
Tricky conversation. If the club had known who he was at first, they wouldn’t have considered him, but Shadow had more than earned their trust by the time they found out. They’d made him pay for not being honest up front, and he’d done so without argument.
“I’m sure you have ways of ensuring loyalty?”
Bud shrugged. “The boy’s mother was compensated well for her agreement to keep the story away from the media. The future-governor never intended his son to know, but he didn’t count on the child one day acquiring the hacking skills to get into any database on the planet.”
“One weak link can bring us all down.”
“I’m aware.” A cat and a wolf locked in a stare-down is never a good thing, but Bud wasn’t of a mind to look away.
“Rumor has it the governor’s an owl.” Manuel didn’t look away, but toned down the threat with his body language.
“Rumor is correct.” Bud relaxed his stance as well.
“So your new Shadow is truly a shadow in the night?”
Bud inclined his head in acknowledgement, but added, “The nickname comes from being a shadow online. He can get in and out of a system without leaving a trace.”
The operator turned the volume up so they could hear better, and Bud smiled as he saw the large yacht slide into view on the high-tech night vision equipment. Neither boat had its lights on, but both captains skillfully edged close enough for the crew to tie the smaller boat off to the larger one.
The inside lights came on once everyone was on the lower floor of the yacht. Arturo had his guys open a few crates to look inside, and finally called on someone to inspect the sniper rifle. Again, Bud had to concentrate to get what he could from the Spanish, but he gathered the man was their most expert sniper, and his suspicions were confirmed when he broke the rifle down and put it back together.
More rapid-fire Spanish, and Manuel told Bud, “We’ll add ten grand on to the agreed upon price, and if my man is happy with the weapon we’ll accept four free with your next shipment in accord with your terms, to be renegotiated every two years.”
This was one of the scenarios Bud had foreseen when he’d talked to Duke and Brain, so he held his hand out in agreement, and Manuel shook it with a smile.
When everything was settled, the guns were moved from the yacht to the boat, and suitcases of money as well as food, water, rum, and tequila were moved from the boat to the yacht — enough supplies to get his men home without the need to stop. They’d survive with the canned and boxed goods they packed, but nothing could beat freshly slaughtered pig and beef, and his men would feast in a few hours.
Bud’s men looked through the suitcases of cash to be sure the amount was in the right neighborhood of a half-million dollars, and when they zipped everything up without comment, Bud instructed them to put the envelope with the extra ten grand in one of the outside pockets. If there’d been a problem they’d have said something, so the deal was complete.
“And now it’s time for fun, my friend,” said Manuel as he stood with a huge smile. “I’ve saved four women who need to be punished just for you.”
Bud had turned down offers of a woman to warm his bed when his wife had been alive, but had readily accepted the offer when he’d returned eighteen months after burying his soul mate. However, when he hadn’t been terribly turned on, he’d had to explain his proclivities to Manuel for fear the girl he’d been given for the night would be punished for not pleasing him.
In the years since, the two had bonded over whipping and fucking women who’d earned a punishment. Some were the kingpin’s employees, others were wives who’d been caught being unfaithful to their husband. In Manuel’s world, anyone who wrongs someone in his trusted inner circle answers to the kingpin — even if it’s the man’s wife.
Seven people were bound and naked when the trio emerged from the media room. The victims’ wrists were restrained high over their head and their toes barely touched the ground. Three men and four women, because Manuel enjoyed hurting everyone, no matter their gender.
“The blonde on the far right is single,” Manuel told him as they chose straps to use on their victims. “If she’s to your liking, we’ll share her when we finish.”
“Her crime?”
“No crime. She wants to prove to me she can hold up under torture. She has a… what do you say? Safeword? She says it, we stop, and she moves away so I never see her face again.” Manuel shrugged. “If she survives, I’ll allow her the territory she’s already been handling.”
Bud sniffed in her direction again. “She’s human.”
“If she endures until morning, I’ll permit Arturo to bite her.”
Drug cartels are known for cutting off limbs to make an example of people, and the other six people’s crimes were minor enough a public whipping would’ve been overkill anywhere else. The first two men hadn’t met a quota, and the third man had brought attention to himself by screwing a politician’s daughter. All worked for Manuel and merely needed to be reminded of the rules. Two of the women had been caught having an affair, and the third woman had talked to a federalé at a bar when drunk. She hadn’t given anything away, but there were rules against getting cozy with strangers.
Manuel and Bud lined up so he’d whip the first man while Bud lashed and belted the first woman.
“The man standing in front of your bitch with his arms crossed is her husband,” said Arturo. “My guess is she’ll get his belt, too, when she’s finally allowed to go home.”
“How long has she been here?”
“Ten days. Manuel let it be known two weeks ago all public punishments would await your arrival.”
“Does she understand English?” Bud asked her husband.
The man shook his head, and Bud told him, “If you want me to back off, uncross your arms.”
“I won’t want you to.”
“Fair enough.”
Manuel expected Bud to sufficiently punish these women. It wasn’t a contest to see who could create the most marks, but it was expected the women would wear the evidence of their chastisement for weeks, not days. Every time Bud’s arm struck with force, his cock pulsed, throbbed, and jerked in his pants. He rarely had an opportunity to strike this hard, for this long, and he let himself sink into the depravity. If he weren’t doing this, someone else would, and it’s possible they wouldn’t care abo
ut staying away from kidneys and other vital organs.
And the screams were like the added spice, the extra shot of whiskey. Some women scream high-pitched when the pain is out of control, others drop into a deeper octave. Either way, the frantic, wild, desperate screams of someone being whipped, belted, caned, or whatever just made Bud want to strike harder and harder.
By the time Bud and Manuel made it through their three people, Bud’s dick was rock hard and throbbing. Beating the hell out of a naked person who needed to learn a lesson just downright did it for him.
Manuel stepped in front of the last girl as Bud moved into position behind her, and Bud grinned at the bloodlust he saw in the other man’s eyes. Could they break this girl and make her say her safeword? Only one way to find out.
Bud had enjoyed punishing the other women, watching their backs, asses, thighs, and tits turn red before bruises formed — but knowing this woman had put herself into this position to prove something made her screams so much sweeter. They used straps first, but switched to whips and canes before returning to leather straps once again. She was nearly unconscious when they finally took her — Bud in her ass and Manuel in her pussy — and Bud almost came too fast when she orgasmed practically right off the bat.
They fucked her for nearly an hour, and the little bitch came so many times Bud lost count. When they finished with her, Arturo and two helpers gently let her down, and Arturo carried her from the room cradled to his chest.
“Another of my top people will escort you home. Arturo will bite her as the sun rises, and she’ll be his responsibility until she can handle herself.”
“Anyone who can make it through what we gave her without safewording will be able to handle their animal without a problem.”
“Yes. One of the reasons for the test.”
“You put your men through that kind of test? Or just the women?”
“Depends on the man, but everyone is tested until they pass out or come close. You’ll find a sweet little thing who enjoys being spanked warming your bed. If you prefer to sleep alone she’s fine on the floor. She’s especially skilled at blow jobs, so you’ll likely want to keep her around until morning.”
3
Nicole tipped the golf-cart driver and thanked him as she stepped off. She hooked her bag over her shoulder and squinted to read the signs on the dock despite her sunglasses. The sky was a brilliant blue without a cloud to be seen, and the Mexican sun was brutal. She followed the arrow to the tour boat for the reef dive, and breathed in relief when she saw only adults. She’d opted for the two-tank dive because the age limit was fifteen and older with only adult certification accepted — and she’d only picked the longer dive so she wouldn’t have to deal with kids. There’s nothing worse than being trapped on a boat on the ocean with bratty kids whose parents don’t make them behave.
With a sigh, she acknowledged there are lots of worse things, but she was here to escape the memory of them so she looked around for something else to think about, and grinned when she saw the man she’d met when she checked in.
He looked downright predatory as he walked down the pier, and didn’t slow to step from pier to boat.
“Hello, Nicole. It’s nice to see a familiar face.”
Goodness, but his voice made her want to reach for her clit. And his deep, dark green eyes — something almost unhuman about them made her feel like prey. However, his expression seemed pleasant without a hint he knew anything more about her. She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed that he apparently hadn’t looked her up. She’d given him the pen name she used for her cozy mysteries, but there was no reason for him to have googled her after a casual conversation while waiting in line.
“Bud, likewise. I was about to find a seat. Would you like to sit with me?”
“I’ve done this dive a few times and the best spot is toward the middle. You never know which direction you’ll have unusual sightings, and the middle gives you the best chance of seeing both fore and aft.”
Nicole was forty-three but often dated younger men. Bud looked ten years her junior, but with the kind of money it took to stay here, guests had the resources necessary to look young and fit. Heck, she could easily see Bud on the cover of one of her racy romance novels. Or even better, one of her werewolf books. Damn, if his hair were a little longer he’d so work for one of her sexy shapeshifters. She couldn’t wait for him to lose his shirt before the dive.
Ten minutes into their conversation, Nicole needed to know if he was available before she made a fool of herself. “I don’t like to take things for granted, but you’re here alone and there isn’t a ring on your finger. Is it safe to assume you’re single?”
She’d still be friendly with him for the dive, but if he were attached then she needed her libido to calm the fuck down.
“No attachments, no girlfriend, no wife. I assume you’re single, since you asked?”
“Yes.”
Bud smiled, but then seemed to remember something and frowned as he looked away. When he looked back, the smile had returned but seemed distant. “This dive is for the more adventurous thrill seeker. I wouldn’t have pegged you for it when I first met you.”
Bud wasn’t sure what to think of Nicole as the two walked back to the resort together. He knew she’d ridden a golf cart to the pier that morning, and had expected to lose her when she hired one to take her back but she didn’t so much as glance towards them.
Shadow had sent a short text to let him know she was an author and he saw no evidence to point towards her working in law enforcement, but Bud had been careful to stay away from anything personal. Nicole had done the same though, which had him even more on edge.
On the one hand, society women usually did nothing for him. Their views on life were so radically different than his, he often wanted to pop them in the mouth every time they opened it — but Nicole was different. She dressed the part of a rich bitch, but she’d travelled the world and seen true third-world conditions. The woman had depth, personality, and smarts.
Long ago, Bud had found his soul mate and thought he’d found his happily ever after — until a stupid drunk driver had taken her from him. No one had appealed to him since. No woman could ever replace Wendy. Bud had his MC family and his daughter. He had a full life and it was enough, most days.
“I can’t believe all the things you pointed out in the reef — right in front of my face but I didn’t see it until you showed me. Are you one of those people who can see things in nature because you’re color blind?”
“No. I’m just good at spotting living beings inside their natural camouflage.”
She chuckled and Bud asked, “That’s funny?”
She stopped and looked at him, as if debating, and he stood and let her decide. Finally, she shook her head as she said, “I tap danced around the question when you asked what I do for a living. I’m an author, and one of the series I write is about shapeshifters. One of my werewolves impresses a date by picking out dozens of salamanders in the mud around a waterfall. Same thing — she doesn’t see them until he points them out one by one.”
The werewolf thing was probably information Shadow should’ve given him. Bud covered his surprise by asking, “You believe in werewolves?”
“Goodness no, but it’s fun to write about them. What woman doesn’t want a beast in bed?”
Well now, perhaps Miss Nicole might be more fun than he’d assumed. “You want a beast in bed?”
“My readers do.” She turned and walked up the path with a little flip of her hair and an extra bounce to her step, and Bud grinned as he watched her ass. This woman would never be anyone’s ol’lady, but he was down here to get away and she might prove a fun diversion.
Assuming she wasn’t ATF or DEA, but he didn’t think she was. The author-of-werewolves angle had him a little concerned, but he’d just need to be sure he didn’t do anything else to remind her of the wolves she wrote about.
“I’m sorry, I don’t remember your last name
. I’ll probably need it to look your books up.”
“My last name is Blackthorn, but I write the werewolf series under a pen name. I write cozy mysteries as Nicole Blackthorn, and for legal reasons I can’t let anyone know I write both series.”
“Legal reasons?”
“Competing publishers. I’m not allowed to cross market myself.” She shrugged. “Also, my cozy mysteries are for middle school aged kids all the way to senior citizens, and my paranormal romance books are super-spicy and only for adults.”
“Is Nicole Blackthorn your real name?”
“One of them.”
“What do your parents call you?”
“Nickie.”
“And your friends?”
“Nicole or Nickie.”
“Do you write anything under your legal name?”
“No. It isn’t safe.”
She stopped and turned to him, and Bud suppressed a grin when her hands went to her hips and she tried to look intimidating.
“I’m pretty sure Bud isn’t your real name, and Jones? Really?”
His passport and ID listed him as Buxton Jones. Large sunglasses on the trip to and from Manuel’s would keep the Mexican Federalés from successfully running him through facial identity. He hadn’t been returned directly to the resort, but had taken a twisted route through a restaurant, a bar, and another resort. Three changes of clothes before a late-night walk on the beach brought him back to his room. He was certain no one could place Buxton Jones as the man who’d visited the cartel kingpin’s home.
Unless they’d targeted him upon arrival, or worse — before he left Atlanta. There was no reason to believe anyone had, but Bud had stayed out of prison many times by assuming any strangers who approached him might be LEO or could’ve been strong-armed into working for law enforcement.