MC Sinners Boxed Set #1-7

PRESENT - SPIKE

“ F uckin’ find out,” I bark down the phone, before slamming it closed.

I begin pacing the room. Fuck, things aren’t going to plan. This is causing me to get far more involved than I would have originally liked. I won’t stop, though. I won’t stop until that cunt is on the ground, bleeding before me, begging to be saved. He’s proving to be hard to find, though.

Fuck it. Fuck everything. My head isn’t in the game like it should be, and it’s starting to piss me off. Damn Ciara for coming in and confusing the fuck outta me.

“What’s happenin’ Prez?” Granger asks, lighting a smoke.

I reach for the packet, pulling one out and pressing it to my lips. I flick the lighter and inhale deeply. After a few puffs, I remove it and answer him.

“Hogan ain’t in the location we thought he was. The fucker is not easy to find and it’s startin’ to piss me the fuck off!”

Granger nods, narrowing his eyes. “What now?”

“We’re gonna fuckin’ find him. We just gotta be smarter about it.”

“What’re you thinkin’?”

I meet his gaze. “We make a deal.”

“Prez, that ended badly last time. You sure you wanna go back into that place?”

“Don’t got nothin’ to lose this time, so yeah, I wanna go back in. Only way to bring him out, is to get involved.”

“It’s a fuckin’ risk.”

I inhale the smoke again, feeling the nicotine swim through my veins. “It’s a risk I’m willin’ to take.”

Granger nods, even though I can see he thinks my idea is fucked. I’ve thought of everything else; I’ve tried everything else. This is the only way to get vengeance, it’s the only way to make him pay for what he did to Cheyenne. I have to make a deal. I have to get myself involved again. That means jumping back into the world of drugs.

“How’d you go with the girl?”

“What girl?” I mutter, snuffing out the cigarette.

“Ciara.”

I flinch. Fuckin’ Ciara. I haven’t been able to get her out of my head all fuckin’ night. The way she spoke, the emotion she showed. I had no fuckin’ idea it went so deep. No fuckin’ idea how much I’d hurt her. She has to know I’m not the man I was back then, she has to know wastin’ her time with me is just that: wastin’ time. I ain’t worth the fight for anyone.

Besides, she fucked me over. I wasn’t the only one who threw our friendship away. I can’t let her in now; I got too much on the line. She’s gotta stop this bullshit, and she’s gotta stop it now.

“Fuck Ciara, she’s messin’ with my fuckin’ head.”

“What’s she so desperate to get hold of you for?” he asks, taking another puff of his cigarette.

“Wants my forgiveness.”

“For what?”

“For fuckin’ me over instead of givin’ me a chance after Chey died.”

“Fuck man.”

“Yeah,” I grunt. “Fuck.”

“Keep your distance yeah? You don’t want her involved with what’s goin’ down.

“Think I didn’t learn my fuckin’ lesson last time?” I bark.

He puts his hands up. “I know you did Prez, I’m just doin’ my job. She’s got feelings there, anyone can see it. You need to knock it on the head. We can’t have anyone gettin’ involved. You need to find a way to get her to back off.”

I don’t answer him, I just grip my beer and turn, walking off. No fuckin’ point in arguing with him. He thinks he’s right.

Fucker probably is too.

I just don’t know what I’m going to fuckin’ do about it. The only thing I can think of doin’, is going to speak to Jackson in an attempt to get her to stay away. It’s not a bad idea - it’s worth a fuckin’ shot. I reach into my pocket and pull my cellphone out, and I flick through until I find his number. I can’t go into Hell’s Knights compound, so I’ll have to meet him at the bar. He’s the only option I’ve got now. This shit is far too dangerous for someone like Ciara to get involved in, and it’s clear she’s got a lot more to hash out with me.

“Yeah,” Jackson answers.

“Jackson, it’s Spike. Can we meet somewhere and talk?”

“What’s up? Addison ain’t shittin’ you off again, is she?”

“Nah.”

“Alright, where?”

“Bar in ten?”

“Be there.”

“Cheers.”

I flip the phone closed and head back into the sitting room. Granger looks up, lighting another smoke. Fucker smokes like a chimney.

“Goin’ to meet Jackson.”

He raises a brow. “What for?”

“To sort this Ciara shit out once and for all.”

“Sure that’s a good idea?”

I shrug, gripping my keys. “It’s the only one I’ve got.”

~*~*~*~*

THE BAR IS QUIET, BUT she’s working. I curse as soon as I walk in and she notices me. Her yellow eyes widen. Fuck those eyes. They’re the most beautiful fuckin’ things I’ve ever seen. I never told her that. Probably never will. Her lips part slightly in shock, and she runs her long, delicate fingers through her thick, blonde hair. Fuck. I hate when she looks at me like that. Like I can be fixed. Like I’m a project. She can spit out how much she dislikes me as much as she wants - I see that damned look in her eyes every time she looks at me, so her words mean nothing. I know she wants to fix me. But she can’t. I won’t let her.

I turn my eyes away from her to see Jackson, sitting at the booth in the left corner. I walk over, shrugging off my jacket. It’s just a sign of respect. He’s not wearing his either. This is mutual ground, neither of us have a claim on it, so there’s no need to show our patches.

He slides a beer across the table at me, and I wrap my heavily ringed fingers around it and take a sip. Jackson watches me, his eyes curious. He’s looking at me like he’s my fuckin’ dad. I hate when he does that. Fuckin’ Jack is too good for the life he lives. His heart is far too big.

“What’s up, Spike?” he asks, lighting a cigarette.

“She’s up.”

I nod my head towards Ciara, who is now serving a dirty old man who is making no effort to try and hide his lingering eyes. That fucker. I want to go and drive a fist into his dirty fuckin’ nose.

“Ciara?” Jackson asks, forcing my attention back to him.

“Yeah, Ciara.”

“What’s she doin’?”

I meet his gaze. “She’s a problem for me.”

Jackson narrows his eyes. “Why?”

“She’s...I don’t know how to put it, but she’s tryin’ to fix something here...between us...and it can’t be fixed.”

“I thought she got the message after the visit at the warehouse?”

“She didn’t. Well, she did but she ain’t willin’ to give up. She’s determined that we can get an old friendship back. It’s a problem, Jackson. I can’t have her gettin’ involved in my life, and the shit I’m doin’.”

“What shit are you doin’?” he asks, giving me a hard stare.

I stiffen. “None of your business, Jack’s. I don’t ask what’s goin’ down between you and the Knights...same goes this end.”

“It’s my turf. Don’t go bringin’ motherfuckin’ trouble here, Spike.”

“Fuck, Jacks. I ain’t gonna bring no trouble.”

Jackson gives me a long, hard, glare, but then he sighs. “I don’t own Ciara. I can’t tell her what to do.”

“She’s under your protection, Jack’s. Tell her to back down, that this ain’t a clever thing she’s doin’.”

“She just wants your forgiveness. Maybe if you give it to her, she’ll back off.”

“No,” I grunt. “She won’t. It goes far deeper than forgiveness.”

“Why don’t you tell her to back down?”

“I have,” I growl. “She won’t have any of it. She won’t back off. She thinks she can fix me. She’s as stubborn as they come. That girl ain’t backin’ down anytime soon.”

“Ignore her, eventually she’ll go away.”

I huff, clenching my fists, “You really don’t know her, do you?”

Jack’s growls. “Fine, Spike, I’ll have a word with her. I’ll try and get her to back off.”

“Excuse me?”

I hear Ciara’s angry voice and freeze. Well fuck, she wasn’t supposed to hear. Slowly I turn, and I see her standing with two beers in her hands. She’s glaring at me, and her eyes are alight with rage. Fuck.

“How. Dare. You.”

“Ciara,” Jackson begins, but she cuts him off with a glare.

“I thought better of you, Jackson. Is that all I am to you people? Some pathetic case you need to sort out?”

“It ain’t like that...” he protests, but her eyes are back on mine.

Fuck those eyes.

“You,” she snarls, leaning down so close her face is only inches from mine. She’s panting with rage, and her words come out like fucking steel. “How dare you come in here and try to get Jackson to do your dirty work? You’re pathetic, Spike. If you have something to say to me, man up and say it. You can try as hard as you fucking like, I’m not going to run away crying like the little girl I once was, because honey,” she leans down, closer, “I got tough.”

Then I feel the cold beer hit my chest. I jerk and my eyes widen as she tips the fuckin’ beer down my front. The stare she’s giving me is that of pure determination and, fuck, is that hunger? Fuck her. Fuck. Her. I growl and reach up, gripping her wrists.

“Quit what you’re fuckin’ doin’ Ciara. Now .”

A slow smirk stretches across her face and she stands up straight, smiling down at us as though we’re just two customers she doesn’t know.

“You two have a lovely night, and do call if you need more beers.”

And just like that, she turns and walks off. I stare down at the beer that has now soaked my shirt and pants, and I curse loudly.

Well, fuck.

This ain’t goin’ to be easy.

The girl is gettin’ under my skin.