Free Angels and Ashes (Heaven's Rejects MC Book 2) by Avelyn Paige Page A

through the doors, an older Mexican man stands at attention behind the counter, wiping it down with a rag. I stalk over to the bar and slide onto the empty barstool in front of the bartender.
    “What can I get you, Señor?” he asks as I note the nervousness about him.
    “Yeah, I’m looking for the woman who showed up in that beauty of a car parked outside. You see her in here?”
    His head shakes back and forth before he quickly turns and reaches for what I can only assume is a pistol underneath the cash register. Pulling one of the long, combat knives from my shoulder hostler, I twirl the sharp blade in my hand and slam it down on the bar top, which sends the man spinning on his heels to face me. His hands rise in the air in surrender.
    “I don’t want any trouble, Señor.”
    “There won’t be any trouble if you tell me where I can find the woman. I can tell by the way your eyes automatically looked at what I can guess is a gun underneath the barthat you know exactly who I am talking about, and I’m for damn sure betting that she means something to you.”
    “Yes, I know who she is. Her husband used to be one of the regulars here. What do you want with the Señora?”
    My fingers slowly trace up the sharp edge of the blade before I stow it back into the hostler. I need to show him that no harm will come to her if he gives me the information I want.
    “Let’s just say that I was a good friend of her old man. You gonna tell me where I can find her, or do I need to get my knife back out and cut the information out of you slice by slice?”
    His eyes grow wide as my hand slides back under my cut toward the knife.
    “She’s in Señor Jagger’s apartment upstairs,” he says, pointing toward the back of the bar. “I think she’s looking for something.”
    Removing my hand from inside my cut, I stand and walk toward the direction he indicated and quietly make my way up the stairs. Banging rings down the stairs when the room comes into view. The door stands slightly open with Darcy standing in one corner of the room holding a crowbar high into the air above her head.
    “Do you want to explain to me why the fuck you are in a bar in Tijuana with a crow bar and a gun?”
    The crow bar falls from her hands and lands on the floor next to her. Darcy stands in shock as I walk into the room, leaning down to pick up her discarded tool. I extend the crow bar back to her, and she snatches it away from me.
    “If you needed a vacation, darlin’, you could have just said something instead of running away.”
    “I didn’t fucking run away, asshole. I came here for a reason,” she snaps at me. “Why the fuck are you here?”
    She’s filled with rage yet again in my presence, and my cock springs to life in my pants. Why the hell does she have this effect on me, and why can’t my cock just stay soft around the one person I can’t have? I’ll go so far as to admit that I’ve always been attracted to her, and even that sassy mouth of hers affects me, but she is my brother’s widow. Crossing that line isn’t exactly looked well upon in our club, and I, for damn sure, won’t be crossing it any time soon, even if she ever did offer herself up to me.
    “Dani called and alerted me to the fact that you were taking off with a gun tucked into your jeans. Care to tell me why you didn’t fucking call to tell me why you needed to escape to Mexico? I doubt you had an overwhelming need to get a warm beer in a town like this.”
    Her eyes roll back at me, which only makes the growing problem in my pants harder. Calm the fuck down. She’s not the pussy you want to be chasing right now.
    “I came here because of you and my Goddamn husband.”
    I stare back at her with a confused look as she stomps over to her bag and rips a folded piece of paper from it. She walks over to me and shoves it in my hand.
    “This was on my door this morning, and before you even ask, yes, that’s his handwriting.”
    I quickly read over the letter and