Take Down (Steel Infidels) Read online

  Take Down

  Dez Burke

  TAKE DOWN

  Copyright © 2017 Dez Burke

  Cover Model: Leo Taylor

  Photography Inside the Book by: Leo Taylor

  Photography Inside the Book by: Allan Spiers

  Editing by: The Passionate Proofreader

  Formatting by: Violet Haze

  Cover Art by: Kevin McGrath at www.kevindoesart.com

  Contents

  Acknowledgements

  Take Down

  1. Toby

  2. Maggie

  3. Toby

  4. Toby

  5. Maggie

  6. Toby

  7. Toby

  8. Maggie

  9. Toby

  10. Maggie

  11. Toby

  12. Maggie

  13. Maggie

  14. Toby

  15. Maggie

  16. Toby

  17. Maggie

  18. Toby

  19. Maggie

  20. Toby

  21. Maggie

  22. Toby

  23. Maggie

  24. Toby

  25. Maggie

  26. Toby

  27. Maggie

  28. Toby

  29. Maggie

  30. Toby

  31. Maggie

  32. Toby

  33. Maggie

  34. Maggie

  35. Toby

  36. Maggie

  37. Maggie

  38. Toby

  39. Toby

  40. Maggie

  41. Maggie

  42. Toby

  43. Maggie

  44. Toby

  45. Maggie

  46. Maggie

  47. Toby

  48. Maggie

  49. Toby

  50. Toby

  51. Toby

  Author’s Note From Dez

  Acknowledgements

  Thank you to my cover model Leo Taylor for the photography and for your many inspirational social media posts over the years. You are truly missed Iron Cowboy! Thank you to my readers for your patience and support while I was writing and rewriting Take Down. Thank you to my daughter and my best friend who tirelessly held my hand, listened to me and encouraged me to keep writing through a stressful time in our lives. I love you all and wouldn’t be able to do any of this without you!

  If you have any questions about the books please email me at [email protected] or find me on Facebook at Dez Burke. I’m on there every day and love hearing from my readers! To sign up for my newsletter go here: http://eepurl.com/wxERT

  Please note this book is for Adults 18+ and older due to adult situations and language.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  She thinks I’m her Guardian Angel. I know I’m her worst nightmare.

  I thought I had everything under control. Until the day I saved Maggie’s life.

  Most men would melt if a girl like her looked at them the way she looks at me, as if I was her savior, her protector.

  She sees the muscles, the tats, the hero the media makes me out to be.

  I’d give anything to be that man, to hear her screaming my name as I showed her exactly what a Marine can do in bed, but I can’t let her in.

  What I had to do in Afghanistan made me a monster.

  If I let her in… I might let it out.

  I belong over there, in hell.

  I don’t know how to live in the heaven that is Maggie.

  She doesn't realize how hard I'm fighting to keep her away.

  She doesn't know who I really am.

  I'm irredeemable.

  She should run.

  Before she unleashes a monster that can’t be controlled.

  1

  Toby

  The food court in the Atlanta mall is hot, crowded, and claustrophobic.

  Exactly the kind of place I don’t like to be.

  The tight crush of bodies and roar of conversation reminds me too much of the outdoor markets in Afghanistan. If my Steel Infidel buddies hadn’t insisted they were starving to death, I would’ve suggested swinging by a fast food joint on our way back home instead. Being in a shopping mall on Valentine’s Day is not my idea of fun.

  As we squeeze our way between the packed tables, I can feel a bead of sweat slowly begin to slide down the back of my neck. Out of habit, I check for the exits. Floor-to-ceiling glass double doors at one end of the food court and restrooms on both sides in the middle.

  I wonder if there will ever be a time when I can relax and stop being in ‘fight or flight’ mode every second of the day.

  Probably not.

  Being constantly on guard kept me alive for years when I was a Marine in the Middle East. No need to stop now. Though it would be nice to be able to sit down, relax, and eat a hamburger in peace every now and then. Like all the other men wandering around the food court with glazed-over, panicked looks in their eyes.

  I wonder what their issue is before I realize they’d waited until the last minute to pick up a Valentine’s Day gift for their girl. Most are wearing expensive business suits, fancy ties, and freshly shined shoes. They’re carrying fast food trays in one hand and delicate little blue shopping bags from one of the mall’s jewelry stores in the other.

  More than a few of them glance at us with barely concealed disgust before quickly looking away without making eye contact. I guess our tattoos and black leather jackets with Motorcycle Club patches make them nervous.

  I sure as hell hope so.

  Luckily, I don’t have to worry about shopping today. There isn’t a little lady waiting at home for me tonight. I’ve managed to dodge Cupid’s arrow for yet another year.

  Unlike my two Steel Infidel buddies, Sam and Flint Mason.

  My best friend, Sam, couldn’t be talked out of buying lacy red lingerie as a gift for his wife. His brother Flint and I tried our best to convince him it wasn’t the best or most original idea for a Valentine’s gift. He laughed and said the gift was for him, not her, and that his wife’s real present, her own motorcycle, was hidden back at the clubhouse.

  Flint, the Steel Infidels VP, didn’t do much better with his shopping. The best idea he could come up with was two pounds of peanut butter fudge from the candy shop. While fudge would certainly be at the top of my most wished for list, you would think a man smart enough to be a lawyer could think of something better for his gal.

  If you ask me, both of the Mason brothers suck in the romance department. How they managed to snag two wonderful ladies, I’ll never know.

  “Hey Toby! What do you want to eat?” Sam asks from behind me. “Are you in the mood for pizza?”

  I’m barely listening.

  A bearded man on the other side of the food court has caught my attention. He’s overdressed for the weather in a long trench coat that hangs almost to his knees. While I watch, he removes his coat and places it carefully on a chair next to him. Underneath, he’s wearing a dark business suit.

  Nothing to worry about.

  Just another fancy ass preppie on his lunch break.

  I seriously need to chill out.

  “Toby!”

  Sam suddenly punches my shoulder hard, and I flinch.

  “What is wrong with you?” he says. “I asked you what you wanted to eat and you’re just standing there staring off into space like a zombie. Damn man, why are you so jumpy today?”

  I shrug.

  “I don’t like crowds. That’s all. And it’s hot as hell in here and stuffy. We should have made this trip to Atlanta ye
sterday. Why did you two wait until Valentine’s Day to do your shopping?”

  “I shop better under pressure,” Sam answers. “And I had to keep the twins yesterday while Lila did some super-secret stuff on the computer. Speaking of the twins…”

  Uh oh.

  I shake my head and hold up my hand. I know what’s coming next.

  “Whatever you’re going to say, the answer is a definite no.”

  Sam ignores me and keeps talking.

  “Since you don’t have a date tonight, would you mind keeping Travis and Trevor for a few hours?” he asks. “Just long enough for us to go to dinner?”

  I let out an incredulous laugh.

  “Are you kidding me? I can’t handle those two little tornadoes by myself. What about Flint and Kendra?”

  “No way,” Flint answers adamantly. “We have plans. We lined up our babysitter weeks ago. Don’t even think about asking us.”

  “Come on, Toby,” Sam begs. “I promised Lila I would get a babysitter for tonight. The boys aren’t that much trouble, I swear.” He grins. “As long as you let them do whatever they want. It’s only when you tell them ‘no’ that the trouble starts. Just remember that and you’ll be perfectly fine. I swear.”

  Sam has no idea what he’s asking. His twin toddlers are cute but are way too much for me to take care of. Dogs are my thing, not kids. Especially not the little ones.

  “Why didn’t you start asking around earlier if you needed a babysitter?”

  Sam throws up his hands. “I did,” he answers. “All week I’ve been trying. Everyone says they’re busy tonight, even the ones who I know for a fact don’t have a Valentine’s date. I don’t know why nobody is willing to babysit for us. I even offered to pay three times the normal rate.”

  “Well, I do. The twins are mini-Sams with sharp teeth. That’s why.”

  Sam gives me a pitiful look and I roll my eyes. There’s not much I wouldn’t do for him, and he knows it. He’s been my best friend since high school and we’ve been through hell together. I was one of the only people who knew what was going on back when his Dad was beating the crap out of him, and now he’s doing his best to be here for me.

  As much as I can let him.

  Sometimes my demons are too scary to share with anyone.

  I finally give in with a loud sigh. It’s not as if I have anything better to do tonight anyway.

  “If you want to bring them by the clubhouse I’ll keep them there, but only if you get a couple of the Sweet Butts to help me out. Or maybe three. Pretty ones too. Not one of the Old Ladies.”

  “I’ll make sure of it,” he answers with a relieved smile. “Thanks man. I owe you big time.”

  “Damn right you do.”

  Flint points to a family getting up from a table on the other side of the room. “I’ll go grab us a place to sit while you two order food,” he says. “Buy me one of whatever you’re having. And a large sweet tea.”

  As both a lawyer and the Steel Infidels VP, Flint could fit in as easily with the businessmen in suits as he does with me and Sam. The motorcycle club is lucky he gave up his position as an attorney in Atlanta to come back home and rejoin the MC.

  His legal skills have come in handy more than a few times. For some unknown reason, the members of the club have an unlucky knack of getting into trouble.

  When Flint snags the table, he throws up a hand and nods back at us.

  “I wonder if he realizes the fudge is going to melt on the two-hour bike ride home,” Sam says with a laugh. “All he’ll have left is a gooey, peanut-buttery mess. Kendra will be so pissed. Sometimes my brother is a dumbass.”

  He peeks over my shoulder and points behind me.

  “Hey look! Isn’t that the girl from the evening news over there? She’s setting up a live feed with her cameraman. What’s her name? Mandy? Misty? She’s a lot hotter in person than on television.”

  I turn around to see where he’s pointing.

  “Her name is Maggie,” I say. “Maggie Turner from Channel 5.”

  “Why am I not surprised that you know her name?” Sam says with a hint of sarcasm. “She’s exactly your type…long dark hair, nice curvy ass, big tits.”

  I shake my head.

  “Nah, I don’t have a type. As long as they’re willing, that’s good enough for me.”

  Sam laughs. “Bullshit! Every girl you date is almost exactly the same, so I would say you definitely have a specific type. And she’s it.”

  Sam’s right, though I’m not going to admit it. Maggie is my type and much prettier in person than on television, stunning really. She’s shorter than I imagined, with long straight dark brown hair and green eyes. And curvier too with an ass just begging to be grabbed.

  She’s scanning the food court as if she’s searching for something, and her eyes suddenly land on me. Catching me watching her, she smiles and turns to say something to her cameraman. He glances our way, nods, and picks up his gear to follow her.

  “Aww…crap,” I say. “I think she’s headed this way. I wonder what she’s doing?”

  Sam makes a face at me. “Probably a thirty-minute segment on how bad men suck on Valentine’s Day. Or a 10-hour documentary.”

  The line we’re standing in to order food starts to move. Before Sam has a chance to step up to the counter, Maggie and her cameraman are in our face.

  “Hi gentlemen,” she says with a fake bright smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Do you have a second? I’m Maggie Turner with Channel 5 and this is my cameraman, Bill.”

  I nod my head at the cameraman and look away, trying to appear disinterested.

  “I was wondering if you would mind letting me ask you a few questions for the evening news?” she continues. “It won’t take but a couple minutes of your time, I promise. I’m interviewing shoppers about their big plans for Valentine’s Day.”

  We both stare at her blank-faced. I don’t know how to respond or if I should. I can’t imagine why she would want to interview a couple of bikers when there are tons more suitable men in the food court.

  She looks at me, and I realize she knows exactly what I’m thinking.

  “You’re two of the most…interesting men in here at the moment,” she explains. “Come on, fellas. Help a poor girl out.”

  I’m not sure if she means that as a compliment or an insult.

  The word “interesting” could mean either.

  I notice Flint watching us from across the room. He is not amused.

  No wonder.

  All three of us are carrying concealed weapons. Not to mention an outrageous amount of cash from an illegal gun transaction we made right before our pit stop at the mall. He is definitely not thrilled about a news team approaching us. He shakes his head at me and makes a motion with his hand at his neck to cut the conversation.

  I nod back at him. I’ve got this.

  “We’re in a little bit of a hurry, ma’am,” I say politely. “And we’re not here to shop. We just stopped in for a quick bite to eat. Someone else would be a better choice for you. I don’t even have a girlfriend. Valentine’s Day isn’t my thing.”

  I give her my best dumb country-bumpkin smile, hoping she’ll take the hint and move along without any fuss.

  She doesn’t.

  Her eyes narrow, and I get the distinct feeling she’s determined now more than ever to drag us right into the six o’clock news.

  This is bad.

  Real bad.

  The last thing the Steel Infidels Motorcycle Club needs is publicity. After being the target of a federal investigation last year, we’ve done everything we can to keep things quiet and clean. Not legal, just under the radar of law enforcement and anyone else who might be interested in the club’s activities.

  Maggie peeks at the bag Sam is holding. The strap of a lacy red bra is peeking out through the crinkly heart-covered tissue paper.

  “What do you have there?” she asks Sam. “Someone has been shopping. Wouldn’t you like to deliver a special messa
ge to your lady friend on air? I’m sure she would love it. You know how women eat up that kind of stuff. You’ll make her day.”

  I try to catch Sam’s eyes to warn him, but he’s not paying one bit of attention to me. As usual.

  “I’ll make you a deal,” she continues. “If you let me ask you a couple of questions, I’ll let you give her a live on-air message. What would be better than that for a Valentine’s gift?”

  Sam’s eyes light up and my heart sinks.

  Dammit, Sam! What the fuck are you doing?

  Of course he’s going to do the interview. He can’t resist. Sam always chooses the riskier choice. Flint is going to be so pissed at him.

  And at me if I can’t stop him.

  “What about Lila’s surprise?” I ask, hoping he’ll get the hint. “You don’t want to spoil it, do you? And we really don’t have time for this. We need to get going and hit the road so we can make it back to the mountains before dark.”

  “The North Georgia mountains?” Maggie asks, turning back to me. “You’re a long way from home. So you drove what? At least a couple of hours to do your shopping here in Atlanta? That’s interesting. I’ll be sure to add that in.”

  I frown at her and wish she would stop talking. I don’t want her finding out where we’re from. Or anything else for that matter. The less she knows about us, the better.