PACO: Night Rebels Motorcycle Club (Night Rebels MC Romance Book 5) Read online

  Bobby’s lips on her skin were cool and soothing. The past scurried away to the shadowy corners of her mind.

  “You’re burning up.” He took out the cold medicine and opened it as they walked to his car. Stopping in the middle of the parking lot, he poured out a thick red liquid into the plastic cup. “Here, drink up.”

  She threw it back and crinkled her nose as the sweet medicinal liquid coated the back of her mouth. “Thanks.”

  “I always look out for my special girl. You know that.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek again.

  On the drive back to the RV park, she watched the wind blow the sand and tumbleweeds across the desolate landscape. It was so different from the fertile rolling plains of Ohio.

  Stop remembering! I wonder what Paco’s doing right now. He said he owned a store. What did he call it?

  “You’re pretty quiet. Is the medicine doing its thing?”

  She nodded.

  He said he sold biker stuff and military things. I’ll have to google it tonight. I’m just curious. It’s nothing more than that. Gives me something different to think about.

  “Here we are.” Bobby turned into the RV park, about twenty RVs scattered around the dirt lot. All of them were there to work the truck stop for a while before moving on to another one. Misty had been there for the past three months, and she knew Bobby would be pulling up stakes soon. Working the truck stop route was a very transitory life.

  She went into their quarters and walked directly to the bedroom. Stripping down to her underwear, she slid under the covers and pulled them over her head. The medicine had begun to take effect, and her heavy eyelids drooped until she succumbed to sleep.

  Chapter Three

  The encroaching darkness brought the cold air swirling around Paco, pushing away every lick of warmth it could. Tucking his chin downward, he tugged his jacket tighter around him as he walked toward the clubhouse. Beneath his boots, the ground was slick with ice, and the wind whipped his loose hair about his face, bringing soft pellets of water. He quickened his pace, reaching the front door before the storm hit. A clap of thunder echoed above as he entered the toasty main room.

  Glancing at the bar, he saw Steel and Roughneck talking, a bottle of beer in each of their hands. If the president of the Fallen Slayers was there, then something was wrong in Silverado.

  “Hey, dude. You’re back. How’s Kendra?” Goldie asked.

  “Good. She had another boy. What’s Roughneck doing here?” Paco replied.

  “He and Brick came by this morning. Seems like they’re having trouble with the little shits in Silverado. These punk gangs are nothing but a pain in the ass. I heard you got caught in the storm a few days ago.”

  “Yeah. It was fucking brutal. I’ve been back a couple of days. You been keeping busy with the tattoo shop and Hailey?” Paco motioned to the prospect for a double shot of whiskey.

  Goldie laughed. “Yeah. Having an old lady keeps you busier than hell.”

  Another clash of thunder and then the sound of rain hammering the roof, beating at the windows, and bouncing off every hard surface.

  Steel turned around and jerked his head at Paco. “You got back from the store just in time.”

  “I must be a fucking magnet for the rain.” He took the whiskey Patches handed him and took a long drink. “How’re things in your neck of the woods?” he asked Roughneck.

  Brick came over and leaned against the bar next to Roughneck. The president shook his head. “Not so good. I was just telling Steel about the trouble we’re having with that punk gang, the West Avenue Bandits.”

  “You got your arsenal stocked, didn’t you? I remember we put you in touch with Liam.” Paco took another gulp.

  “We got the guns, but the problem is they’re building up their fuckin’ gun stock. They’re getting their shit from the Los Malos Gang out of Pueblo. We heard they’re working with the Satan’s Pistons.” Roughneck popped a few spicy peanuts in his mouth.

  “How in the fuck do the Pistons have any clout right now? We took them out pretty damn good.” Paco motioned for another round of drinks.

  “They’re buying the guns after the idiots give them the money. The punks are so stupid they don’t even know the Pistons are ripping them off,” Steel said.

  “How’re they getting their money?” Diablo asked as he came up to the bar.

  “They’ve set up shop and are dealing in drugs and women. They just opened a new strip bar. We’ve heard rumblings about them wanting to expand their territory and dip into Alina and the rest of the county.”

  “No way that shit’s gonna happen,” Paco said, slamming his fist on the counter.

  “That’s for fucking sure,” Steel added.

  “We’ll chase their asses outta here like we did the Skull Crushers and Satan’s Pistons.” Diablo crossed his arms.

  “That’s the way we feel too, but we don’t have the numbers to fight them the way we’d like,” Brick said.

  “These sonsofbitches are actively recruiting from around the county. We’ve got the experience, but these wannabes are increasing in numbers. They just react without thinking or strategizing. We may need your help, but for now we’ll see what they’re going to do.” Roughneck picked up his beer.

  “We wanna see if they’re full of shit or are a real threat,” Brick added.

  Steel shook his head. “They’re going to take over Silverado if you don’t do something. You need to show them you’re not putting up with their bullshit. If you wait around, they’ll think they can do what the fuck they want.”

  “I’m with Steel,” Paco said. “You need to come up with a plan, and then either take them out or run them out of the county.” Diablo nodded in agreement.

  Roughneck ran his hand over his face. “We don’t have enough brothers to go head-to-head with them.”

  “We’ll jump in,” Steel said.

  “Okay. Why don’t you guys come to Silverado next weekend and check it out? We can update you then,” Roughneck said.

  “They gotta be stopped. If they get a stronghold in Silverado, then we’ll have a damn mess on our hands. And the West Avenue Bandits need to stick to stealing and shit. We need to show them we don’t want them involved in our county, or yours, even if it’s only indirectly.” Paco gritted his teeth. If he had it his way, he’d get a group of them together, ride to Silverado, and blow the assholes straight to Hell.

  “If you need us sooner, let me know,” Steel said, clasping Roughneck’s shoulder.

  “You’re fuckin’ cheating.” Goldie’s voice bounced off the walls. The men at the bar turned toward the pool tables.

  “I told you Raven’s been teaching me some moves. I warned you.” Muerto laughed.

  “So now you’re a pool hustler like your old lady?” Goldie leaned over and took a shot.

  Steel, Diablo, and Paco sniggered. Roughneck turned away, his brows knitted. Paco figured he was remembering when Raven hustled in Max’s bar. It still seemed to piss him off. “You got some chow around here?” Roughneck asked.

  “Lena and the girls are getting ready to bring it out,” Steel replied.

  “Ruby doesn’t look like she’s gonna help,” Diablo said, pointing to the club girl sitting in Army’s lap.

  “She’s a looker. I may want to get cozy with her after I eat. You got any hang-arounds coming tonight?” Roughneck asked.

  “I’m pretty sure Army, Eagle, and Brutus got the word out that we have the president of the Fallen Slayers spending the night. The chicks will be coming in soon,” Paco answered.

  The Night Rebels waited until Steel and Roughneck filled their plates before they went over to the table. Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, corn, coleslaw, and biscuits enticed them. Paco filled his plate and sat down next to Army, Jigger, Goldie, and Muerto.

  “You wanna go to the bike rally this weekend?’ Army asked as he buttered his biscuit.

  Paco picked up a chicken leg. “Where’s it at?”

  “Utah. Not too far from w
here your sister lives,” Army replied.

  “It’s not going to be a big one, but some of the smaller ones have some badass bikes,” Goldie said.

  Misty’s dark eyes flashed through his mind. I can stop off and see her again to make sure she’s doing okay. “Count me in.” He took a swig of beer.

  “Cool. We can ride together. I think there’re about six of us who are going.” Army shoved in a forkful of mashed potatoes.

  “Are you going?” Paco asked Jigger.

  “I want to but I can’t. I’m going to Durango to see my kid for the weekend.”

  “How’s that going with your ex? Did the judge increase her alimony?” Goldie said.

  Shaking his head, Jigger coated his potatoes in black pepper. “Nah. He set it to expire at the end of the year. She about shit a brick. Serves her right. She wanted to get more money outta me so she could sit home and watch TV. Fuck that. I’m glad the judge saw through it. I wish I had Abe full time.”

  “Does she treat him all right?” Paco asked.

  “Morgan’s a royal bitch, but she’s a good mom. I just wish I saw him more, that’s all.” Jigger pushed his plate away. “Some of the chicks are coming in. Man, the blonde in the short leopard skirt is fuckin’ hot.”

  Paco craned his neck and saw a stacked woman in her thirties wearing a tight skirt and a clingy top walk toward the bar. He smiled. “She’s just your type, dude. Built and older.” Jigger was twenty-six years old, and Paco noticed he shied away from women his own age and went for those who were in their mid-thirties and older.

  “Older women are more grounded than the ones around my age, and they have more experience, which makes it real fun.” He chuckled.

  “I love older women,” Army said as he ran his eyes over the blonde’s curves.

  “Age doesn’t mean shit if you hit it off,” Paco said as he rose to his feet. “You want any more drinks? I’ll have Rusty bring you another round.”

  Goldie held up his hands. “None for me. I’m taking off.”

  “I want to get to know the blonde hottie,” Jigger said, standing up.

  “I’ll go over to the bar with you,” Army said.

  With his back against the bar, Paco scanned the crowd. In a short time, the room had become packed with hang-arounds, all looking to have a good time with a brother. Some of them were there for the excitement of being with a rough biker, some loved having sex with a lot of men, and some came for the drugs and the intimacy, even if it was just for a short time. He saw Roughneck and Alma, one of the club girls, kissing up a storm before Roughneck stood up, grabbed her hand, and walk out of the room.

  “Hey, bro, how’s it going?” Sangre asked as he approached Paco.

  “Good. The store’s been busy, which is good.”

  “I heard you got caught in that crazy storm that blew into Utah over the weekend. It fuckin’ sucks to be on a bike in a downpour.”

  “Yeah, but I was able to pull off pretty soon after it started.” He picked up his beer and brought it to his lips. If it wasn’t for the rain, I wouldn’t have met Misty. Shit, I’ve got to stop thinking about her. But he couldn’t help it. She’d been on his mind since the morning he’d left. There was such sadness in her eyes, but also a solid determination; he couldn’t help but want to know her backstory. How the hell did she get mixed up with a pimp? That question had been on his mind for the last few days. How did she end up in a truck stop selling her body?

  “You listening, man?” Sangre’s loud voice in his ear made Misty’s face fade away.

  “What did you say?”

  “I asked if you’re going to the rally in Utah this weekend.”

  “Army just told me about it. I’m in. You?”

  “I got too much shit to do at the grow store.”

  “Hey, baby. You want some company?” Lucy ran her nails up and down his forearm. He shook his head and the club girl’s face fell. “What’s wrong?”

  “I have some things on my mind, that’s all.”

  Leaning in close, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I can make sure you forget, even if it’s just for a little bit.” She licked his earlobe.

  His dick twitched, but he pulled away. “Just not feeling it tonight, Lucy. Another time.”

  “I’ll hold you to that.” She kissed his cheek and walked over to Eagle, who was chatting with Brick and Diablo.

  “Why the hell didn’t you go for Lucy? She’s been wanting to jump you since you got back. You know you’re her favorite.” Sangre turned around and gestured to Rusty. “Two more here.”

  Paco rested his elbows on top of the bar. “Lucy will be available whenever I want.” He picked up the whiskey the prospect put in front of him. “Two new guys want to prospect for the club.”

  “Are they the ones who’ve been hanging around for the last six months?”

  Paco nodded. “Tattoo Mike and Rooster recommended them. They said they’ve known the guys for years and they’re solid. Chains did backgrounds on them and they look good.”

  “Cool. We need a few more members, especially with all the shit these punk gangs are trying to pull. Do you know if Steel is letting Patches and Rusty patch in?”

  “We’ve talked about it. It’ll probably happen at the summer rally.”

  “So you gonna party tonight or just drink and check out the women?” Sangre turned around and leaned against the bar.

  Following suit, Paco’s gaze landed on a small woman with long black hair. Sucking in his breath, excitement rushed through his veins. It’s Misty. What the fuck is she doing here? Staring fixedly at her, he picked up his drink and took a big gulp. Think, man. There’s no way it’s her. She lives over a hundred miles away.

  Even though he knew it wasn’t her, adrenaline shot through him in anticipation of seeing her amazing eyes again. Then, as if sensing she was being watched, she slowly turned around, and the adrenaline drained out of him. It’s not her. The woman walked toward him, and he clasped Sangre’s shoulder.

  “Later, bro.” He pushed away from the bar.

  “Hey,” a throaty voice said behind him.

  He turned around and saw the woman he’d thought was Misty. “Not interested,” he said, taking a few steps away from her.

  Her lips turned downward. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

  Slowly shaking his head, he searched her face. “No. I don’t.”

  “It was a few months ago. My hair was lighter. Remember… Charlotte?”

  He racked his brain but nothing came up. “Maybe you’re mistaking me for one of the other brothers.”

  “Oh, honey, there’s no way I’d mistake you. You kept licking shooters off my tits. Does that jog your memory?”

  Scrubbing his face, he jerked his head back. “Oh, yeah. Fuck, I’m sorry. You look different. When we hooked up, your hair wasn’t as long as it is now.”

  She leaned in close, the scent of nutmeg swirling around him. The softness of her tits pressed against him made his dick jerk. Placing her index finger on her lips, she said, “Shh… don’t tell anyone, but I’m wearing a wig.”

  “I’ll be damned.”

  “You game for some shooters?” She ran her hand over his.

  “Not tonight. I have some stuff to do. Maybe another time.”

  “Really? I was hoping we could hook up again. I should be mad at you for never calling me.”

  He chuckled. “I don’t usually call chicks. As I recall, you gave me your number and told me to call you. That never works for me. If I wanna call a chick, I ask for her number.”

  “I just thought we had something, you know?”

  “It was fun.”

  “You sure you don’t want this?” She ran her hands over her curves and squeezed her breasts.

  “My brother Sangre would love what you’re giving away.” With his elbow, he nudged Sangre.

  “Yo. What’s up?” Sangre said, swiveling around.

  “Charlotte’s feeling real frisky and wants some fun,” Paco replied.


  Sangre ran his eyes over her body and Paco sniggered. “Is that so, baby?”

  “Well, I really wanted to have some fun with Paco, but he doesn’t want to.” Her gaze went to Sangre’s tight muscular arms. “You look like you wouldn’t pass up some fun with me.”

  “My brother here is a fuckin’ idiot. I’d love to party with you, baby.” Sangre wrapped his arm around her and winked at Paco. “Thanks, dude. I owe you.” He led Charlotte away and they disappeared into the crowd.

  After putting the empty glass on the bar, Paco headed up to his room, kicked off his boots, and went over to a chest of drawers. Opening the first drawer, he took out two Jack shooters and several joints. He went over to the CD player and switched it on, turning the volume down. Sinking down in the recliner by the picture window, he looked out. In the distance, headlights from random vehicles glowed eerily through the thin mist. Specks of light filled the inky sky, but in the darkened haze, the San Juan Mountains weren’t visible. It was like a pitch-black curtain had been draped over them.

  He put the joint between his lips and lit it, enjoying the first long drag. The lyrics from Twisted Sister’s “We’re Not Gonna Take It” sang out and he picked up his phone.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked Kendra, dread weaving through him.

  “Nothing. I’ve been meaning to call you since you left a few days ago. I just wanted to make sure you made it back okay.”

  “I’m good. How’s the baby?”

  “Great. Matt and Diego are loving their new brother. It’s so adorable. Vicky said she can stay a couple more weeks. I’m happy. I can use the help.”

  “I told you I’d give you the money to hire someone to help you out.”

  “I know. I appreciate the offer, and I may take you up on it after Vicky leaves. You do so much for us as it is. I hate to take anything more from you.”

  “I offered, so it’s no problem. Anyway, I remember how the pay sucked when I was in the Army. Jesse’s not sending enough home for you and the boys.”