Not your honey (Leila Series #1) {IN PROGRESS}

3. Cold blood

"Come on, Hale, it can't be that bad. We've done business with them before and never encountered any problems. Why would they suddenly take their goods elsewhere?" I ask with a tired look.

"We don't know what they're doing behind our backs! No one's answering when I call, and there have been no missed calls from them. Mark my words, something is wrong."

    He looks damn sure about this. If he thinks that something's wrong with our distributor, then I believe him. He may be an older man, but he knows what he's talking about. Hale's been in the game for a long time and knows a lot about it. There's no need for us to feel insecure about his doubt. The others aren't looking sure about this, and it's my job as VP to persuade them that this is the only right thing to do. I also have my doubts about whether the Mexicans have blacklisted us, but that's nothing I can say right out. It's not morally right to go against my president; it doesn't matter the reasons behind. In situations like this, I have to show where my loyalty lies, which is with Hale.

"Alright, pres. If you think that we should investigate, then we shall do it. When, how many, and who is going?" I ask.

"Tonight, three people, and you are deciding who's going with you."

"Don't do this to me, pres. I just got home from my assignment when you texted me. I'm tired as hell!" I exclaim with a loud yawn.

"I'll pay you extra if you do," he says in a slightly lighter voice; he always does that when he knows I'm going to say yes, I never say no to money.

"Fine," I say, defeatedly and throws my arms in the air.

    He smiles and puts his arms over his chest, obviously pleased with his negotiation skills. Yeah, you think so now. But just you wait, I'm going to use this favor against you one day when I need it. I point at Tyler and Gus before I walk out of the room. How come that I'm always annoyed when I walk out of that god's forsaken place? Sometimes, I don't know if Hale is doing it on purpose or not. He enjoys to pester me, that much I know. But would he really annoy me just for the sake of his amusement...? f**k yeah, he would! He may be an annoying son of a b***h, but God helped me if I didn't love him more.

"Okay, listen up, you two. I'll ride first, and we'll separate for a couple of miles. Park a few blocks away from the building, we don't want to cause suspicion. Be sure to be armed; we don't know what we're walking into over there. Try to keep a low profile and don't cause any unnecessary trouble if it isn't needed." I tell the men before sitting down on my bike.

    They nod their heads and walks towards their own vehicles. Since I'm the most experienced between us three, I'm taking the lead. Tyler has worked with hacking and money laundry before, that's his area of expertise. Gus is not much older than me; he works as muscle when needed. He's a big guy and can take on anyone in a fight without having to use any kind of weapon. The man moves like a freaking toxic snake, fast as a cobra protecting her eggs. Why I chose Gus is obvious, but I also wanted Tyler because I feel nervous picking one of the other guys since I don't know where they stand.

    Just because no one said no to me being VP, doesn't mean that they feel like I'm the right person for the job. The reason for accepting without feeling that it's right can be numerous. Like respect towards our pres, peer pressure, or they may see this as a trial run to see if I'll make it. Either way, if I have to take over the club after Hale dies, then I'm going to beg Tyler to be my VP until he agrees. We're the same age and practically the same background, with the difference that he had a dad as his addicted parent. We've both worked our asses off to earn respect within the club and value our assets more than the others.

    I ride my bike to the warehouse where we store our guns. In there, you can find anything from a small pocket pistol to AK-47's. We used to stock grenade launchers here too, but it became too risky in the end. We deal guns to others, not within our turf, but to outsiders. Mostly nomads who work for other heavy-armed gangs around the country. What is a nomad? That's a person who once belonged to a club but decided to go off the charts to live on his/her own without the club's back-up. They don't stay at the same place for very long and can't just become nomads; they need to get permission.

    A few raindrops land on my visor, and I sigh for myself, like this night couldn't be any worse. Yeah, I know you're not supposed to say or think like that because then it becomes hell, but I'm not superstitious. I slow down and park behind the building. Raining patters to the ground, and I hurry in to get what I need for a whole night with the guys. I pick up a sig saur and my lovely Glock from one of the crates before I put one of them inside my jacket and the other in my pant's waist. With the weapons secure and the guys ready to leave, we start our bikes and ride away.

    The rain drowns the roar from the motors; it's cold to ride in the pouring rain in 74/mph. My leather jacket may not give me much warmth, but I look deadly hot in it, I simply can't be without it. We separate and park our motorcycle's a few blocks away from the house. Even though I can't see or hear my fellow co-workers, I know that they are close. It doesn't take long for us to reach our destination by foot; something is wrong; I can feel it deep inside my core. The building that's usually full of laughter and voices are dead quiet. I give the guys signs to show which position they should take, and they nod in response before disappearing.

I sneak up towards the house entrance quickly without making any sounds. The stairs creak silently, but I can't hear anything except for that and the pouring rain. Carefully I turn the doorknob, holding my breath in the process. I push the door open and almost fall on my knees at the sight before my eyes. Bodies are scattered all over the floor in blood puddles around them-not just men, but also women and children. A little boy's body catches my eye, and something about him makes me walk up to him. It's Paulo, our distributor's son and heir. I've played with him many times when we came here, and this... This breaks my heart.

Gus and Tyler walks into the room from different directions, but stop when they see the m******e. I caress Paulo's hair with a shaky hand and tears in my eyes. I'm not a weak person, and I rarely cry-but this little boy had my heart in his hand from the beginning. He's not much older than three years, such a young and handsome boy shouldn't have to endure such a fate before he has even had the chance to begin his journey through life. I can see Gus walking towards me in the corner of my eye, but stops when Tyler puts his arm in front of him and shakes his head.

"Call Hale, tell him 'blue code,'" I say to them without tearing my eyes from the small boy.

Tyler takes out his phone and dials Hale's number. I don't listen to the conversation; all my focus is on Paulo and my clenching heart. I'm cold and badass on the outside, but a part of me has always been protective when it comes to children. I think that it's a need to protect that arose after no one protected me when I was a young child. It can be compared to maternal instincts, and I was not there to save him when he needed me most. I can hear the roars from the approaching members of our club, and I can't move. My body is frozen beside the little boy; I'm unable to leave him.

"Where is she?" I hear Hale's voice ask someone.

"She is in there with the boy," Tyler answers, and Hale's thumping boots against the wooden floor echo before Tyler even had the time to say the sentence.

Hale is standing behind me, but I don't care. My eyes won't leave Paulo's dead and cold body, those little eyes that show fear when I look into them. Hale is cursing a lot, and when he sees which state I'm in-he repeats the word 's**t' more than once. I ignore him and everyone else, in the moment, it's just me and the boy I couldn't save. Small drops land on my hands, and it takes me a moment to understand that I'm crying. Not that loud sobbing and shaking thing, instead of the silent and careful tears of pure misery. Hale crouches down to my level and shakes me a little to grab my attention. I look him in the eyes with my coldest stare.

"Lei, snap out of it. We can't stay here for much longer; it's time to go before the cops show up. We grabbed everything we could find and are ready to go."

"I can't believe what I'm hearing. There are over twenty dead bodies on the floor, and you want me to 'snap out of it'? These are human beings, and they deserve a proper burial!" I say through clenched teeth, desperate not to scream out loud of the outrage I'm feeling.

"We can't stay, Lei! The cops are on the way; we can all be arrested for murder. If I get one more dot-I'm going to the joint, you got that? Come on!"

He drags me up from the floor, and I'm fuming at his behavior. This is probably the first time I see the cold and emotionless Hale the other members are afraid of. He's never behaved like this towards me before, and I'm not going to stand for it. Our members are straddling their bikes, ready to take orders from Hale. I ignore him and put my helmet on. Without giving them any attention, I start my motorcycle and rev the motor loudly before riding away. Hale and Tyler are screaming at me to stop, but I can't. I can't be here anymore; I need to cool off before I do something stupid.

This is a natural part of the lives we have chosen for ourselves. There's a lot more death and danger; we're used to it. But when innocent children die, no, that's where I draw the line. I don't stop until I reach the desert. My screams echoed in the rainy night. Shortly after that, I break down completely. It's no longer the silent and dignity righteous cry; I'm full-on sobbing on my knees. The wet dirt penetrates my pants and makes me shiver. I don't know how long I just sat there, crying and letting the sadness fall off me. When I got home, I just hid my west and parked before walking into the opposite street bar.

"One bottle of tequila," I order, and the bartender nods before walking into the back.

I put my face into my hands on the bar counter and feel my shoulders sag. Someone's sitting beside me on my left side, but I ignore the person. I don't move my hands until I hear the bottle touch the bar counter. Without hesitating, I open the bottle and take a few large sips without flinching. Sadly, the alcohol doesn't help with the heart-clenching thing that I have going on. A young man is currently sitting beside me and looks worried. He doesn't say anything, but I can see him watch me in the corner of his eye. I don't know him, so I don't talk. In the end, he is the one who breaks the silence.

"Are you alright, girl?" he asks.

"No, I'm not," I answer and down a third of the tequila. "But, I will be."

"I don't like the look of your state. Would you consider coming to sit with us?" he asks and points at a table in the corner where two men are sitting.

I recognize one of them; it's the attractive one I met at F*ckhole earlier. He stops talking when his eyes meet mine-he looks anxious, and I guess that's because he can see my numbness. I nod at the guy beside me and let him escort me to their table. All three of them are observing me, and I don't like that at all. I'm not made out of porcelain for god's sake! Neither one of them is talking, what was the point in inviting me over if no one is going to talk?

"I'm here. Now, what do you want?" I slur a little and take another swig.

"Are you a member of any club?"

"Why would I answer such questions when I don't even know your names?"

"That's Rocco and Jay. I'm Cameron." says the attractive stranger I saw at the other bar earlier.

"What's so interesting in knowing that?"

"Because we saw you fight, and that was a remarkable battle," he says, and I'm about to comment when my phone rings.

"What is it?" I growl.

"Come back here this instant! Do you have any idea how much in danger you can be right now? I can't find you, and none of the guys have seen you around!"

"I don't want to be found. Just let me be alone." I say and hang up.

"Who are you running from, honey?" Cameron asks.

"I'm not your honey, or anyone else's for that matter. And I'm not running; I'm avoiding. You three are suspiciously interested in me, and frankly, that creeps me out. It was nice to meet Tay, Reese, and Cum." I say and rise, very much aware that I faked not knowing their names.

"That's not our-"

"Yeah, I don't care. Bye." I say and walk out of there.

Let me guess; you think that I'm behaving like a b***h? Well, you're not wrong. But I felt that we all understood that I'm not A b***h, I'm THE b***h, it's what I do. Everyone finds their own ways to survive in life, and being a b***h is mine. I don't do all this emotion and deep talk crap. It's not who I am. When I'm in a bad mood, no one should approach me, and absolutely not begin to question everything about my existence. It is evident that I'm fascinating, and they find that intriguing for some reason. They can try to find out who I am, but they're not going to be successful. My club has my back.

***

When I walk into the club the next day, I can feel the tension in there. The members are anxious and are sitting as far away from Hale's office as possible. He's pissed, and I know that I'm the reason. It's okay if he's angry, because I am too. 'Maybe we can have a screaming match together, wouldn't that be fun?' I think to myself and snort at the absurdity of the situation. Hale doesn't own me and can't decide what I'm doing outside of the club. He told me yesterday to leave, and I did, what's the problem then? I walk inside without knocking, and when he's looking at me, he seems much older than usual.

"Where have you been, girl?!" He exclaims and runs up to me; his big arms hold me close. "I've been so worried, my girl."

What the hell? Yes, Hale and I are close, but this was to take it to a whole new level, really. Why is the old man close to cry into my shoulder? Something must have happened after I left last night, but I obviously don't know what it is since I refused to talk to anyone who called. It's not my time to speak yet. I just let the old man hug me and bring him the best kind of comfort I can muster. This is starting to become weird; why is Hale acting like a mother in distress?

"Okay, Hale. What is it? You are behaving strangely." I say when we break apart.

He sighs and sits down behind his desk again. His head is rocking back and forth in his hands. Oookay... I'm getting more and more freaked out by his behavior. Why won't he tell me what's wrong? I don't say anything; hopefully, the silence will help him gather his thoughts and finally explain what's going on. The problem is that I'm not a very patient person. My leg is bouncing up and down the floor uncontrollably; it's a thing I do when I'm either stressed or when my patience is going low. Hale lifts his head and looks at my bouncing leg.

"I had a knife smashed into our doors last night when we got back, and it had a note attached to it." he opens a drawer and gives me the note.

'Heard that Leila is your new VP, she's still going to die, an eye for an eye. Send my regards to princess bitch.'