Hellbent Hero by Naomi Porter

7

Hero

ROJA’S SHELL-SHOCKED expression seared into my memory. Why the fuck did I tell her I’d promised myself I’d never love again? Even if it had been true before, she had me reneging on it.

Not that I was in love with her… yet. I just knew I was on the fast track to wanting it all with her. Christ, I hated myself for hurting her.

When I lost Monica, I never imagined I’d love anyone again. Never wanted to love again. The vows I’d made at our wedding were etched into my heart. She’d been my high school sweetheart and best friend. She was irreplaceable. In seven years, not one woman had ever had me thinking about getting married and having a family.

Then I saw Tara. The redhead oozed spunk and sass. Her ivory satin skin shimmered against her crimson hair. Those striking brown doe-eyes made warmth spread through my chest. My cold heart began to thaw, then beat again. It all happened in less than five seconds at the bakery. When my eyes locked on hers, I’d nearly forgotten why the hell I was there in the first place. I finally felt like I could breathe again.

Now I wasn’t a mushy bastard. Or a gentleman. Far from it. I wasn’t Mr. Nice Guy either. My mind was dirty, and during those first five seconds of seeing Roja, her tempting mouth had turned my cock to iron.

It hadn’t taken long before I was warring with myself. Shamefully, I wanted her. I didn’t deserve her. I’d imagined her red lips wrapped around my dick every fucking night. Never really thought I’d experience the pleasure. It was the thrill of the chase I was after. Or so I thought…

“Did you hear me?” Storm tapped the table to get my attention. “It has to be tonight. They’re transferring the enforcer back to California at the end of the week to face charges in the attempted murder of the Heretics president.”

I lifted my gaze to Storm’s, hearing the frustration in his voice. “Heard you. Tonight.”

Storm sighed, flexing his hand. The ruby eyes of the serpent on his ring glared at me. We were in the same visitor’s room as our meeting last Monday. The one I’d been in earlier today with Tara. My mind was messing with me. Making me believe I smelled her strawberry shampoo.

My gaze locked on Storm’s wedding band as I rubbed my bare ring finger. Mine had been gone for over three years. I hadn’t missed it much. But, this past month, I found myself thinking about the future a lot. The face I saw wasn’t my wife, Monica’s. It was Roja’s.

I was an asshole for desiring another woman.

The guilt I carried for my wife’s murder ate at me like magots feasting on a dead carcass. It interfered with what I felt for Tara, my sassy redhead. Every time Monica entered my mind, it was like I’d betrayed Tara. And then, in my next breath, I felt like I’d betrayed my wife’s memory. It was all fucked up.

I was fucked up.

I didn’t deserve either woman. Shoulda stuck with the mindless, emotionless sex I had with the kittens. A man has needs, ya know.

But falling for another woman? Hellfire should engulf me.

Storm tapped the table with his knuckle again. “Hey, what’s going on? Has something happened here?”

“I thought you said you had a prospect on Tara?” I kept my voice low, almost whispering as if Monica could hear me.

See? Fucked up.

Storm narrowed his eyes. “Copper’s watching her.”

“Well, the motherfucker let her come here. Earlier today, she was sitting right where you are.” I ground my back molars as my chest burned with regret. I hated myself for pushing Tara away, but fuck, I was in jail. I had no idea for how long. Aside from my current living arrangements, my wife was still very much a part of me. It wasn’t fair to Tara. I wouldn’t be able to give her all of me.

Dammit, it fucking killed me.

“Sonofabitch,” Storm hissed. “She’d asked to see you, but I told her no.”

“She didn’t listen.”

“I’m not surprised. She’s stubborn as hell and obviously determined.” He smirked, giving me the impression he’d gone toe to toe with her. “So why are you pissed?”

I growled, pressing my lips together. “Because I don’t want to see her. There’s nothing between us. There never will be.” I fought hard to not reach for my chest and rub it after my sharp words pierced my flesh. Like dozens of daggers shot out of a pitching machine, aimed straight at my heart.

“Hold up.” Storm raised his hand. “What did you say to her?” His accusing tone had me sitting upright in the chair, squaring my shoulders. He seemed to sense it wasn’t good.

“The truth.” I might not like it, but I wasn’t about to give Tara false hope.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Go on.” Irritation rolled off Storm in massive waves. It made me uneasy. I might’ve been in jail with a DO posted outside the visitor’s room, but if my prez wanted to beat the shit out of me, he’d do it. Nothing and no one could stop him. The dude’s rage mirrored a deadly category-five hurricane—unstoppable. I admired the fuck out of him for it.

I crossed my arms over my chest, leveling my gaze. “I’ve told you before, I’ll only ever love one woman. Tara deserves to be the only woman in a man’s heart. I can’t give her that.”

Storm leaned forward in his chair. “Man, it’s okay to find love again. Your wife died. She would want you to move on.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, drawing blood. “Move on from what? My wife and baby are dead because of me. Me!” I hit my fist on the table, hating the words spewing from my mouth. “Why should I get to be happy? Why should I get to experience love for a second time? Maybe have a kid or two after I’d murdered my wife and son! My son…” My voice cracked on the last word.

My baby boy would’ve turned seven in December. Monica and I had only found out the gender two days before the explosion. We hadn’t even picked out a name for him…

Tears burned my eyes. Fuck, I struggled to inhale a breath as if my chest collapsed on my lungs.

“Breathe, brother.” Storm dropped his head, giving me a moment to get myself under control.

Turning into an emotional pussy in front of your brother was awkward as fuck. But Storm was also my prez, which made it ten times worse. I hated looking weak in front of him. But, regardless of my own messed-up feelings, Storm would never judge or belittle me.

Sometimes there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. I’d probably shed more tears than all the guys in the club put together. I’d never ask any of them if they’d ever cried. Nor would I admit how much I’d soaked my pillow over the years.

I’d always been more emotional than my brothers. Not the way Storm or Boxer dealt with shit, through anger and rage. More like Track, where we got quiet and spent more time in our bedroom than the others. Although I doubted Track whimpered in bed.

When I was a kid, Abuela would tell me in her broken English, “Hero, be tough.” She’d shake her fist in the air. “Tu es… you are mucho sensitive. Tu corazón es… your heart is mucho delicado.”

My heart was very delicate. What boy wanted to hear that shit? It hadn’t helped matters when Monica had told me the same thing.

Inhaling a cleansing breath, I prepared my fucking delicate heart to do what was needed. I raised my head, clearing my throat to get Storm’s attention. “Don’t let her come here again. Keep her safe. That’s all I ask.”

“I will.” He dragged a hand down his tense face.

“And I don’t want to hear about her. Just keep her safe.”

Storm considered me a long second, probably thinking I was an asshole.

He nodded his head, showing no emotion. “Yeah. Got it. Let’s go over the plan again. You’re sure we can depend on Ryder to get the picture to the enforcer?”

“Yeah. The dude is solid. He’ll get it done.” If he didn’t, the club was screwed. We only had one chance at taking out Rudy Dutra before he was extradited back to California. Time wasn’t on our side.

“No screw-ups. It needs to happen,” Storm muttered. “I need you out, man. Morrison only wants to deal with you. He keeps blowing off Raul.”

“Fuck. He’s such a pussy. Ever since he married the Remotti girl, his balls shriveled into raisins. What does Theo say about my release?” The Morrisons would be nothing without the Remotti family, based in Quebec since the late sixties. After Stephen married Alessio Remotti’s only daughter, it gave the Mafia family a foothold in central Canada. I didn’t understand the old-world ways of treating children as possessions. Marrying them off to grow an empire, like a fucking business transaction. It made my skin crawl.

Storm shrugged, tapping his thumbs on the table. “Thanksgiving. Maybe earlier. We’re trying to prove Sonny set you up.”

“Shit.” I clenched my teeth, even though I should be grateful. A month? It would feel like a lifetime.

I tried to ignore the hope blooming in my chest. Hope that maybe Tara and I could be together if I could get past my guilt over Monica. Hope for a future with my fiery redhead. I might fight this deep-rooted desire to be with Tara, believing I didn’t deserve her, but fuck if I didn’t want her more than my next breath.

“It’s the best he can do. I know it sucks. Just gotta be patient, man.”

“I’ll miss Boxer’s Black Friday event.” I hadn’t missed one of his fights since I joined the club. I felt like I was letting him down even though this wasn’t my fault. Well, not really. I should’ve stayed in Bastion instead of getting drunk in Winters.

“You don’t know that.”

“He needs me to help him train. To make weight.” For the last few years, I’d helped Boxer prepare for his matches. Being behind bars royally sucked.

“He has Ire.”

“Ire is training for it too. He can’t give Boxer what he needs like me.” I shifted in the chair, irritated as hell. Fucking Sonny, screwing with my life. I’d like to beat the shit out of him.

“First things first. Focus on Dutra.”

And Tara. She wasn’t ever far from my thoughts.

I nodded, exhaling a tense breath. “Right. Dutra.”

“Boxer’s informant will let him know when it’s done.”

“And can we trust him?”

“Boxer trusts him. Apparently, Ava was his little sister’s friend. He wants Dutra to pay as much as we do.”

“Oh fuck.”

“Yeah, small world.” Storm pushed his chair back and stood. “I gotta go.” He looked at his watch. “Your dinner is in less than an hour. You need to get your boy straight on his job. If he gets this right and doesn’t fuck it up, he’ll have a nice payout when he’s released from this place.”

“I might want to sponsor him. He has nothing on the outside.” This wasn’t the right time to talk about Ryder’s situation. I just wanted to mention it.

Storm eyed me, a glint of sympathy in his eyes. Several of us in the club came from the same crummy lot in life—no real family. No nothing.

“We’ll discuss it when you’re out. Keep your nose clean. I need you, brother. Dodge is driving me crazy.” Storm’s stare pinned me in my chair. “I didn’t even bring him with me. Track came instead.”

I smirked to myself. Storm had little patience for anyone. I was sure Dodge was a pain in the ass while filling my boots. Couldn’t say I blamed him after his girl and baby were stolen from him.

Stolen was probably harsh. Justin was a good man. Protective over his daughter, Emilee, as any father would be.

But, if it were me, I would’ve gone after Justin. Nobody would ever take my woman and baby from me. But some gangbangers had in a permanent, violent way. I’d be damned now if I ever let it happen again.

I’ll raise hell if anyone comes between me and my woman.

Roja flashed behind my eyes. Mi vida… my heart pounded hard in my chest. Never being with her again was painful to imagine.

How could I have been so stupid to push her away? After this shit with Dutra was done, I’d have Storm bring her to see me so I could apologize.

I just prayed she’d forgive me.