Tainted Desire: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Rough Jesters MC Book 6) Read online

  All I needed to do was lose my fucking leg.

  But I felt like I was losing something far more important in Eileen. She was pissed and had every right to be. I hadn’t told her about the CIA involvement in the ghost war, that we were using the clubs to keep the cartel occupied until the moment that their forces were down, and we could sweep in and steal their thunder.

  I hadn’t, however, ever used her specifically. Sure, she had helped by tracking me all of these months, drawing out the attention so it was focused on me and me alone, but that wasn’t because I had picked her out.

  No, that was Widow Maker’s call, and given what I saw today, might be her last. The club losing faith in their president was a dangerous game and by not telling them about me, she had cast doubt into their hearts that she was hiding more than that.

  I just wished she hadn’t ousted Eileen. That was never my intention and I had no idea how to fix it.

  My cell buzzed and I grabbed it, half forgetting it was in my jeans pocket. One look at the screen had me groaning inwardly.

  Now was not the time I needed for my boss to call me.

  Holding up the phone to my ear, I pressed the button. “Yeah.”

  “Where the fuck have you been?”

  “Castillo, sir,” I answered, knowing very well he was tracking the call. That was the thing with the CIA. You could never escape the circle of accountability following your every move.

  “I got an interesting call from fucking Nebraska,” he stated. “You mind telling me about this new partner of yours?”

  Shit. “I couldn’t lose sight of her,” I ground out, the lie sliding off my tongue easily. “That was the only way I could bail her out and not have them sniff around about why the CIA was in their backyard.”

  “A criminal, agent. You fucking bailed out a criminal,” he said.

  I didn’t feel like Eileen was any more of a criminal than I was right now. “It’s worked out pretty well for me to stick with her.”

  “Not anymore,” he said after a moment. “I’m reassigning you.”

  “What?” I said, shocked. I had been on this job for years and now they were fucking pulling me out of it? “You can’t do that, not now.”

  He let out a sharp laugh. “Oh, I can, and it’s already done. The paperwork has been filed. You are heading to California.”

  I couldn’t leave Eileen now. I had just ruined her life, torn everything from her that she had known, and now I was going to be forced to walk away too? “Don’t do this.”

  “Let me make something very clear to you. You are not back on the block. Your ass still belongs to the United States of America. Considering the circumstances, you’re lucky that you’ve only been reassigned. I could have you court-martialed if I wanted to! Now, I don’t give two shits about your ‘partner,’” he stated. “You’ve blown your cover and with them finding out about the accounts, we are going to have to end the operation and pull out of the cartel business. Pack your shit. A car will be there shortly.”

  He clicked off and I clutched the phone tightly in my hand, wanting to throw it against the opposing wall. My hands were tied. He was right. I could be court-martialed for this, and if the agency really wanted to, I might even be looking at some serious prison time.

  But the moment I left, I knew that my budding relationship with the only woman I had ever had feelings for would be over. Likely the CIA would bring a team in to round up anyone outside of the clubs for questioning, hoping to infiltrate them and pull them apart for good.

  Eileen would be one of those people.

  “Shit,” I muttered, and tucked the phone back into my ruined jeans. This wasn’t fair. A flash of me and Eileen making a run for it ran through my mind before I pushed it aside. She was so pissed at me right now that I didn’t think she would be interested in making a break for it.

  The door opened and I came face-to-face with Eileen, her eyes red and puffy from crying. My heart clenched in my chest as I knew I was the cause of those tears. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

  She waved a hand at me. “Don’t apologize. There’s nothing we can do about it. I’ve been thinking about next steps and I want to go after Polanco.”

  Eileen going after Polanco by herself? “Absolutely not,” I forced out. “There’s no way I’m gonna let you do that.”

  She arched a brow, her arms wrapped around her waist. “Like you have a way to stop me. He’s the key to making all of this go away.”

  “You think they will take you back,” I answered dully, wondering if she was really that naive about club business. I had been around them long enough to know that Widow Maker would be saving face by keeping Eileen out of the club. If she took her back, she would be admitting that she was wrong and that was the last thing Widow Maker needed to be admitting at this time.

  “I don’t care about the club,” Eileen said, averting her gaze. “I want to get justice.”

  “He will kill you,” I said flatly.

  “I will take that chance.”

  Despite the chilly air between us, I reached out and grasped her upper arms, forcing her to look at me. “You can’t do this. Hell, Eileen, if he catches you …” I couldn’t think straight, picturing Polanco with Eileen. He would try to break her before casting her away, likely dead in a ditch.

  I couldn’t let that happen.

  Her face softened just a hair. “Will you come with me?”

  Shit. I couldn’t do that. Dropping my hands, I kept her gaze. “I have to tell you something. I just got off the phone with my boss. He’s reassigning me to California, effective immediately.”

  Her eyes widened and she shook her head. “You’re leaving.”

  “I have to,” I said, nearly pleading with her to understand. “Orders are orders. My ass still belongs to Uncle Sam, whether I like it or not.” I didn’t want to, but what I wanted didn’t factor into this.

  Eileen let out a bitter laugh, taking a few steps back. “I’ve truly lost everything then, haven’t I? Apparently, I lost the club for no reason whatsoever.”

  “This isn’t my fucking choice,” I told her, hating the hurt look in her eyes. “I wouldn’t leave willingly.”

  “But you are leaving,” she fired back, her eyes shimmering with tears. “I could have said the same thing about the club, but I walked out. With you.”

  She was right. She could have thrown herself at Widow Maker’s mercy or even killed me to prove that I didn’t mean shit to her.

  Eileen hadn’t, which could only mean one thing. She had feelings for me, and I was crushing them, one by one.

  I wanted to tell her the truth, that I didn’t want to leave her. I wanted to tell her that I would desert the government for her.

  The words wouldn’t form on my tongue. “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry isn’t good enough, Voodoo.”

  I hated the way she said that name. Ignoring the pain in my leg, I cornered her with my arms against the wall. “Don’t do this. Don’t put me there.”

  A wan smile flitted across her face, though her eyes still held the level of hurt I had inflicted. “You forced me to do that. Now let me go, before I injure that leg further.”

  I did as she asked, not because I wanted to, but because I was afraid of what she would do to me. “Where are you going?”

  Eileen reached for a bag near the sofa, one that was probably already packed for a bike journey. “I told you. I’m going after Polanco.”

  “Please don’t,” I begged her as she walked into the kitchen, packing some granola bars and bottles of water. “Dammit, will you listen to me?”

  She glanced at me and I saw no emotion on her face. She was stripped raw, the events of the day likely weighing heavily on her shoulders. I wanted to remove that weight, to show her that she wasn’t alone, but I couldn’t.

  I was leaving. “Ask for assistance,” I growled. “Someone in the club still has to be loyal to you.”

  Her eyes continued to bore into mine. “Why don’t you come?”
r />   Anything but that. She knew I couldn’t. “I can’t.”

  There was the resignation I hadn’t wanted to see. “Fine,” she said, pushing away from the counter with the bag in her hand. “Stay here as long as you like; just make sure you lock up when you leave.”

  I grabbed her arm as she passed by, locking her against me. “Please, Eileen,” I started, hoping that my true emotions could be read in my eyes. “You will die if you go to him.”

  She struggled against my grasp, but I held firm, knowing this was probably the last time I would get to hold her. The moment I let her go, she would be gone, and I would constantly worry. “Death wouldn’t be so bad right now,” she said, finally wiggling enough so that I had to release her. “Face it, Voodoo, this is over. You have your life and I have to find mine.”

  I watched helplessly as she walked to the door and opened it, knowing that I could stop her with three words.

  The problem was, I would be forced to leave whether I said them or not. No amount of love was going to keep us together.

  Not with the government fighting us at every turn.

  “Goodbye, Daniel,” she said before disappearing out the door.

  I hobbled over, wrenching the door open in time to see her climb into a car parked not far from the steps and fire the engine without a second glance.

  In a matter of seconds, she was gone.

  Slumping against the doorway, I exhaled a slow breath, not believing the hurt that I felt in my chest. Eileen was gone.

  A black sedan caught my eye and I swore under my breath, shutting the door firmly behind me. Carefully I maneuvered the stairs as it pulled up a few feet away, idling. I drew in a breath as I approached it, opening the passenger side door and sliding in without hesitation. Another agent sat on the other side of the car, the interior like an ice cube. “Agent Culbertson, I’m Agent Fields. I’m to escort you to your waiting plane for California.”

  I glared at him, thinking of all the ways I could take him if it weren’t for this bum leg. Didn’t he know that my life had just ended? That the best thing in my miserable existence had just driven away, never to be seen again?

  The car pulled away and I swallowed, wondering if I could bail out of the car without tearing up my wound further. I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want Eileen to hate me like she did.

  I wanted her to love me, like I did her. She was supposed to be the future I thought I would never have, the dream that was to be a reality.

  Now that dream was turning into a nightmare.

  “Are you crying?”

  I shook my head, letting out a false laugh. “You need to get your eyes checked, Agent Fields, if you think I’m shedding a tear for your dumb ass.”

  To my surprise, he chuckled. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Agent Culbertson, and it seems all of those comments are right on.”

  Despite my misery, I couldn’t help but grin. “Good to know I am found to be that entertaining.”

  Agent Fields eyed me, his eyes traveling down to my shredded jeans. “It looks like you could use a new set of clothes.”

  Inside, my head was turning over the possibilities. I could get out of this. I could escape and then they would have to come after me.

  Again. “You know, that’s not a bad idea,” I said slowly. “You got an extra set on you?”

  “No,” Agent Fields frowned. “We can’t put you on a plane in that condition. You look like a murderer. We’ll stop somewhere and get you some new clothing.”

  I gave him a nod, my stomach tightening in knots. That was going to be my best bet to escape his detail.

  Which meant I could help Eileen not get killed by Polanco.

  I would just have to wait until the right moment.

  Chapter 20

  Siren

  I reached the storage unit on the outskirts of town, extracting the key from the backpack before finding my unit. I had been meaning to transfer my things to my apartment, but there were a few I couldn’t very well just park in my living room and not be noticed.

  One being a spare bike. It had been my first purchase after becoming a Bitch, wanting to restore it.

  Of course, that day had never happened and though it was as ugly as sin, the bike still purred like a kitten.

  Inserting the key into the lock, I slid the door up and walked in, taking one long look at the bike. It was going to be my only hope to get across the border unnoticed. The bike could go down smaller paths than the car could and since my other was still impounded in Nebraska, this was all I had.

  I still couldn’t believe he wasn’t willing to help me.

  My breath caught and I forced myself to get past the hurt. Daniel wasn’t going to change his mind and I wasn’t going to wait around until he finally came to his senses. Polanco needed to be stopped and if no one else was willing to go after him, then I was.

  Even if it meant me getting killed in the process. After all, what did I have to live for now? My career was over with; those that I called family had turned their backs on me. That pain, I couldn’t even describe it. I had been part of the club nearly all my adult life.

  I didn’t know anything else.

  I slumped down onto the cold concrete of the storage unit, my head in my hands. I could still remember the first time I ran into Widow Maker like it was yesterday.

  ***

  I walked down the sidewalk, my steps staggering from the amount of alcohol I had consumed. The party which Rich, my current boyfriend, had taken me to had been full of booze and drugs, and while I had shied away from the drugs, it was the alcohol that had taken the edge off, dulling the pain.

  Today was my sister’s birthday.

  What was supposed to be a happy celebration was a day of mourning for my entire family. She would have been nineteen today and I would have woken her up by bouncing on her bed.

  Or called her from my college dorm with plans to meet up and celebrate. Being two years older than her, I was now old enough to buy alcohol legally at least.

  Of course, none of that mattered now. My sister was cold in the ground, gone forever. She would never graduate high school, go to college, or get married. She would never have kids, sweet kids that I could spoil, or live the life that she had always wanted to have.

  It was all my fault she had been robbed of this dream.

  I picked up the bottle of beer that was in my hand, squinting at it to find it empty. I had fought with Rich after finding him in a darkened corner with some slut and he hadn’t cared enough to explain himself.

  Another loser.

  Anger and grief welled up inside me and I hurled the bottle, the satisfying sound of glass breaking causing me to smile. It shouldn’t be the only thing that gave me joy these days. My mom and I had fought about Rich and about my recent move out of the house and into a crummy apartment on the other side of town. She didn’t understand, but I couldn’t stay in my childhood home without seeing Jessica’s ghost everywhere. My future had been upended and I had nothing I wanted to do with my life.

  Except drink away the pain.

  “Well, hey, pretty thing.”

  I looked up to find two burly men walking my way, leering grins on their faces. Even in my buzzed state, I felt a frisson of fear snake down my spine. Was this how my life was gonna end?

  “She is pretty,” the other said, licking his lips. “I wonder what those red lips of hers could do?”

  I gave him a cocky smile. “You would love to find out, wouldn’t you?”

  He noted my slurring of words and they took two steps closer, probably seeing me as an easy target.

  What they didn’t know was that I would go down swinging.

  “Hey, hey, fellows, what’s going on here?”

  I turned my head toward the voice, finding a woman with long blonde hair, dressed in black, a shiny gun in her hand. “Bitch,” one of them uttered. “Where’s your crew?”

  “I don’t need one,” she answered with a laugh. “Come on, boys, don’t you think I can sho
ot both of you dead before you take one step toward me? Why don’t you turn and start walking the other way and leave my friend here alone with her own thoughts?”

  For a moment, I thought that they were going to try their luck. I watched as one tugged on the other and they moved away, back into the darkness they had come from.

  I sucked in a breath, feeling slightly nauseous, and before I knew it, I was on my knees, upchucking the alcohol in my stomach. “Hey now, you’re safe,” the woman said, her hand rubbing my back. “It’s all right.”