XANDER (The Caine Brothers Book 2) (2 page)

Real fear of Dude finally filled Hank’s eyes.

Xander tapped Dude’s shoulder. “Okay, man. Our job here’s done. Let’s go.”

Dude glanced at Xander then back at Hank before dumping Hank to the floor where he crumbled in a whimpering heap. “Piece of shit,” Dude muttered, then spit on him for good measure, before marching for the door.

“See you at the rally tomorrow,” Xander said. He threw Hank a two-fingered salute before closing the door behind him.

Dude had already climbed on his bike and started it up. Xander slung his leg over the seat of his own bike, and kicked it started.

“I think that went well,” he said, grinning at Dude.

“I wanted to kill him.”

“That would have solved one problem, but created a shitload more.” Not that beating up a member of the Huntsmen’s biggest rivals wouldn’t cause enough trouble as it was. Xander figured if it had been anything other than domestic violence, Mel, the Huntsmen’s president, would have turned down the job because the target was a Ravager. But given his dedication to that particular cause, he apparently thought it worth the risk. “This way, our pal Bug has just enough rope to hang himself.”

“Let’s just hope he does.”

“I’m almost looking forward to this weekend, now.”

“Don’t lie. You hate rallies.”

“Yeah, I do. But I feel good about this one for some reason.”

Back at The Outpost Xander and Dude parked behind the bar and headed for the back door.

“Looks like everyone’s already here,” Dude said.

“Yeah. Guess our little side job took longer than we planned.”

They entered the back hall and the sound of a room full of male voices struck Xander first thing. He couldn’t help a smile. These guys were his family of choice. He loved his ‘real’ brothers—the rest of the Caine boys—and nothing could ever come between him and his blood, but the Huntsmen were the brothers he’d chosen for himself, and he was just as loyal to them as if they shared his blood. They all understood each other and shared a common love of the biker life.

Dude grinned, too, and headed for the meeting room.

“I’m going up front for a drink. You want something?” Xander asked.

“Yeah. Bud Light.”

Xander hid the cringe he felt at Dude’s choice. The beer snob in him stemmed from his upbringing. Coming up with an uber-rich family had embedded certain tastes in his DNA that he had a hard time shaking. He took a lot of ribbing for it from the rest of the Huntsmen, but for the most part they accepted him as one of their own, despite knowing if he wanted it he could have access to enough family money he’d literally need a bulldozer to shovel the shit into a truck.

“You got it.”

Dude gave him a thumbs-up and dove into the meeting room.

Xander followed the hall past the office, storerooms, and restrooms out into the bar itself. Mel had established the place decades ago as neutral territory for all Houston bikers. Hard and fast rules that all bikers were welcome—nobody was excluded—and a list of rules of honorable behavior made the place one of the most popular in the city. Everyone checked their disputes at the door, or they didn’t come in.

Xander headed for the bar. Daisy, one of the bar’s more popular bartenders, shot him a gorgeous grin.

“Hey, Killer,” she said, her voice a sultry tease.

Xander noticed movement from the corner of his eye in the mirror behind Daisy. A female head had come up from staring into her drink, and her face shone in the mirror. Xander found himself staring at her mussed pixie cut of dark hair, haunted eyes, full lips, long slender neck, and narrow shoulders. Some electric thing stabbed at his heart—and cock—when her eyes met his and widened as if in shock; as if she felt the same damn thing.

“You okay there?” Daisy asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

He dragged his attention back to her, and pasted an insincere smile on his face. “I’m fine, Princess. Dude wants his usual and I’ll take a Kosmos.”

She went to the cooler and pulled out a cold-sweat covered can of Bud Light and dropped it on the counter in front of Xander, snickering as she did. “You know, you’re the anomaly here, right? I can’t keep us stocked with Bud Light, it flies outta here that fast. Your fancy shit sits on the shelf collecting dust. Not to mention, I have to special order it.”

She popped the cap on his bottle of Shiner Kosmos and placed it next to the can on the bar.

“Yeah, I can only fix one person’s bad habits at a time. I’m still working on Dude. And I drink enough Kosmos it shouldn’t collect dust.”

He grabbed the bottle and saluted her with it, taking one more glance at the sexy little brunette before spinning on his heel and heading back to the meeting room.

Inside, Mel held court at the front of the room. Xander slipped in and grabbed the seat between Dude and Chico.

“What’d I miss?” he whispered.

“Good of you to join us, Killer,” Mel said. “Glad my Road Captain could finally show up.”

All eyes shot his way. A lesser man might flinch under that much attention, but Xander didn’t think twice about it.

“Dude and I were out on a job. It ran a little long,” Xander said.

“How’d it go?” Mel asked. The bar supported the club, but Mel had also quietly set up the side business to deal with problems in the biker community that law enforcement either couldn’t or wouldn’t touch. He never advertised and nobody outright acknowledged it, but everybody knew if you needed help you went to Mel and he’d make sure you got a fair shake.

“We came to an understanding. We’ll see if he holds up his end tomorrow at the rally.”

Mel nodded. Enough said. “Speaking of the rally. We were just talking about expectations.”

“Don’t let me stop you,” Xander said, waving his beer in a ‘please continue’ gesture.

Sweeping his gaze over the crowd, Mel gave them all a stern ‘if you fuck with me I’ll have your colors’ look. “Have fun, do whatever shit you want, but remember, you represent the Huntsmen. Everything you do reflects on the rest of us, so act accordingly.”

Murmurs of agreement circulated the room, and looks were exchanged that said everything from ‘I’ll hurt anyone who hurts the club,’ to ‘better keep our plans on the down-low.’

“If you gotta fight, then fight, but the Ravagers are going to be there this weekend. They’re off limits. We’ve had peace for a while now, and I want it to stay that way. Any of you guys break that peace and you’re fucked. Got it?”

Every last one of them nodded agreement. Nobody wanted to screw that up. Brawling was one thing, but the Ravagers were serious enemies—between the drug running and other shit they were involved in, they were the complete opposite of everything the Huntsmen stood for. Mel had finally negotiated peace with Prez—their president—and nobody had the balls to break that.

Not for the first time, Xander wondered what the hell it was between Mel and Prez that fueled their feud. He had no problem setting Hank straight, but it was bound to lead to trouble and—technically—broke the peace Mel was so interested in keeping.

Xander didn’t think any of the guys would do anything bad enough at the rally to hurt the club, but rallies could get wild—one of the reasons he avoided them. He didn’t go for that kind of crazy.

“Who’s heading over to Galveston today?” Mel asked.

Most of the guys in the room raised their hands, including Dude and Chico. Xander planned to leave tomorrow and get there as late as possible.

“Killer?” Mel asked.

“Tomorrow,” he said. The rally officially opened tonight, but he’d be fine if he missed it. “Got some business to finish up tonight.” He had plenty of things to choose from to keep him busy.

“Fine. Don’t be very late tomorrow. Chico, you can stand in as road captain today.”

“You got it,” Chico said.

They spent another twenty minutes talking club business and the finer details of housing and other events at the rally.

When the meeting broke up, most of the guys wandered out to the bar or out back to head for the rally. Mel called Xander and Dude over. Chico tagged along.

“How’d the job go?” Mel asked.

“Killer wouldn’t let me kill him,” Dude said. He nearly pouted about it. “Guy needs to be dead.”

“We don’t do that,” Mel said, but the look on his face—cold and hard—hinted that he wished they could. At least in this case. “Even if it seems like the best solution.”

Xander had to agree, though he could definitely see Dude’s point of view. He and Dude made the perfect team for the Huntsmen’s quiet avocation; Dude was all enormous muscle and terror while Xander’s cool, aloof control reflected Mel’s philosophy and kept Dude from killing everyone, even if they deserved it. Also, because letting Dude do the hitting kept Xander from doing it—and liking it too much. Watching gave the anger beast a taste, but if he gave in and did the work himself, he’d lose control and bad things would happen.

When Xander had been in his late teens and rebelling against his rich father, he’d done all the things kids that age do—drugs, violence, reckless behavior—but he never found a place to belong. Sometime in his early twenties he’d met Mel and been introduced to the club, and everything had just clicked so he’d joined. Since then Xander’s priorities had settled into place and now, nearing thirty, he’d never felt more at home.

“I gave him a couple of choices,” Xander said. “He chose to apologize publically and swear never to hurt her again. He’ll do it, but I doubt he’ll stand by it. He’s a worthless piece of shit.”

“If he doesn’t stand by it, you have other choices you can fall back on?”

Dude grinned and rubbed his hands together in gleeful anticipation. “Yeah.”

Chico chuckled. “Am I gonna want in on the other choices?”

“Maybe,” Xander said. “We’ll see how it goes tomorrow. Should be entertaining, at least. Someone needs to talk some sense into his wife, though. She needs to just leave the douche.”

Mel shrugged, but his calm seemed forced. The lines around his eyes and mouth deepened, and Xander sensed his tension.

“Woulda, shoulda, coulda,” Mel said. “She should leave, he should stop hitting her. Sometimes a thing is so broken it can’t be fixed, but we can do our best to make him think real hard before he hits her again. After that, there’s not a lot we can do if she keeps going back to it.”

“Yeah, well, I enjoyed ‘convincing’ him today,” Dude said. He cracked his bruised knuckles. Xander noticed Hank’s blood still stained the cracks in Dude’s skin. It only added to his friend’s mystique.

“Okay, I’ll see you all at the rally.” Mel turned to leave.

“Mel, wait,” Xander said. He’d put his ass on the line to do a job Mel had taken that put the club in the direct line of fire from the Ravagers. He needed some answers.

“Yeah?”

“This job Dude and I did. Is it going to cause trouble with the Ravagers?”

“I hope not,” Mel said.

“But it could.”

Mel nodded. “It could.”

“Then why take it? I mean, yeah, Hank needed to hear that message, but I thought keeping the peace was your top priority.”

“It is,” Mel said. “But some things are more important even than peace.”

A dark shadow filled Mel’s eyes, turning his expression both angry and sad at the same time, before disappearing just as fast. Not for the first time, Xander wondered who in Mel’s past had suffered enough domestic violence to make such a lasting impression him. He volunteered time at shelters and helped with annual fundraising drives, and took every domestic violence related side job that came their way. But he kept his reasons to himself, and everyone respected that. Maybe somewhere in Mel’s list of regrets in life a star-crossed love figured prominently. That would explain a lot.

With his response, Mel turned and left the room without another word, an air of brooding following in his wake.

Dude slurped the last of his Bud Light, oblivious.

“Jeez,” Chico said. “That was intense.”

Xander lifted one shoulder then dropped it, not committing to a full shrug. “Just not looking forward to the rally fresh off breaking the peace with the Ravagers.”

“It was a job,” Dude said. “We didn’t break anything. Except Bug.”

“What’s with the feud between Mel and Prez, anyway?” Chico asked.

“Nobody knows for sure,” Dude said. “Only that it’s big, personal, and goes back a long way.”

“We’ll probably never know, and frankly, it’s obviously none of our business,” Xander said. “But since we’re Huntsmen, and Mel’s the president, we keep the peace because that’s what he wants.”

Xander drained his bottle and headed for the door.

“Come with us tonight,” Chico said, changing the subject. “Why you gotta wait until tomorrow?”

“He hates rallies,” Dude offered.

“You’re lucky I’m coming at all. Mel told me I had to be there to help keep the rest of you from fucking things up too much.”

Chico snickered. “They shoulda called you ‘Long Fuse’ or something. You’re the least killing killer I’ve ever seen. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you fight.”

Dude got serious. “Yeah, well, you haven’t been with the club long enough. He has a long fuse, sure, but when it burns down and he fights, he means it. It’s like watching a berserker.”

“Says the Viking,” Xander said.

Dude waved him off, but preened at the compliment. He reveled in his image.

“Is that why they call you Killer?” Chico asked.

Xander rolled his eyes to defuse the conversation. He had a temper like everyone else, it just took a lot to get to him. The fact that when someone triggered it he lost control in a big way was something he worked hard to keep to a minimum. He hadn’t killed anyone, so the whole thing was a huge exaggeration.

“No,” Xander said. “The nickname’s ironic. You guys go ahead. Go enjoy the whole rally experience. I’ll catch up tomorrow. And Dude, try not to hit anyone before I get there.”

Dude shot him a toothy grin from inside his bushy mustache and beard, and flipped a salute as he grabbed Chico by the shoulder and dragged him out the back door.

Xander picked up his and Dude’s empties and made his way out to the bar. A glance in the mirror confirmed the little brunette still sat in the same place. He smiled to himself. Maybe he could add something else to the list of things to keep himself busy before heading out tomorrow. When he sidled up to the bar, she caught his eye in the mirror, and held his gaze.