Damaged & Dangerous: The Sacred Hearts MC Book VI by A. J. Downey Read Free Book Online

I’d
written ”For when you wake up. –Coon” on it, and folded it carefully around the
two pills before, with a guilty look to make sure I wasn’t caught, tucking them
deep down into his pants pocket. Whoops, and oh my god! If what my hand brushed
against was real, then there might be some truth to some of the rumors I’d
heard about the new prospect’s size!
    I wrote on the underside of his wrist ‘Check your hip
pocket’ so he knew to look there, before laying his hand against his stomach,
the writing hidden from view to the casual observer. When he woke up, hopefully
he would find it and the pills. Then, hopefully, he would wash it off and keep
me out of it. I had to hope against hope he wouldn’t tell on me. The last thing
I needed was one of the brothers accusing me of stealing drugs from the club
supply. I doubted Skid would ever step up in my defense again. I could still
see the last time he had, the beating he’d gotten from Pig, and how it haunted
him every time he looked at me.
    I knew how he felt. I was haunted by Pig every waking moment
of my life and sometimes during the sleeping ones, too. I gathered my purse,
slipped out of the club and went home, certain that with two more dead
brothers, I wouldn’t be missed.  

Chapter 5
     
    Red-XIII…
    It took a couple of weeks, pushing three after my cover
story beat-down, for the final vestiges of stiffness to go away. The fucking Oxy
that Skid had given me had knocked me for a motherfucking loop, but not so much
that I couldn’t remember. Sound traveled real well in the metal warehouse
building and I’d lain there, pretending to sleep as I listened to The Suicide
Kings little war council while Rocket Raccoon took care of me.
    Just like the furry little badass comic book character, Dani
was proving to be a crafty and brave badass of her own. She’d stuck around
after I’d decided on her new nickname and when she thought I was out, had gone
fishing in my pocket. At first I thought I’d misjudged her, that she was trying
to rip me off. Even so, her small gasp of surprise when she’d brushed against
my dong almost blew my possum act. I’d almost smiled, almost laughed at her
reaction. I hadn’t, though, and I have to say my confusion went up a couple
notches when I felt her writing on the inside of my arm.
    As soon as I heard the door shut and was sure I was alone,
I’d taken a peek at my arm. ‘Check your hip pocket’ had been scrawled in a
short line of her feminine loopy script. So she hadn’t been ripping me off, but
rather had left something behind. When I was sure no-one was coming to the back
from the front room I checked. Two white tablets wrapped in a receipt with
another note, ‘For when you wake up –Coon’. I’d thought to myself, well I’ll
be damned. It looked like I had made a friend and ally in Dani… which was a
small bright spot under this deep, dark mountain of bullshit.
    The Suicide Kings gave me a few days of peace at home to
heal up which, honestly, in a cabin with no electricity, wasn’t that great. At
least I had a bed and a working woodstove. I cooked up canned stew and soup on
its top, and would run into town once every couple of days to charge my phones
and the battery sticks I used the rest of the time to keep ‘em going.
    I communicated everything I overheard to D and the boys
after I bought a few new burners, which I charged up and activated as needed.
They, like me, were just satisfied my cover wasn’t blown. Pig-Pen, Spade, and
Neo went out on a run for guns between then and now. I’d been just doing the
general scut work doled out to prospects. Which, for the last three or four
nights, included playing bartender. Rocket had been conspicuously absent.
    “Hey, Prospect!”
    “Yeah, Boss?” I turned away from the back of the bar towards
Pig-Pen, who tossed a Crown Royal cloth bag at me. I caught it, the contents
inside grating together, clinking gently. A metallic sound.
    “Ain’t heard from my bitch for