Heart Ties (Club Ties Book 2) (30 page)

The door opened, and her laugh shriveled and died.

His gaze riveted on her immediately. He snapped his fingers. “Girl.”

She swayed but checked herself.

“You’re lucky we didn’t gun you all down on sight,” Lucky said.

Drake moved forward, his form solid and warm next to her. “We’re here to end this beef without lives being lost.”

“Talk.” Lucky let his weapon hang at his side, but his brothers had him covered.

“We want to make a trade.”

Lucky’s gaze skimmed over her. The only woman in the group. The only thing the Raiders wanted.

Panic flapped wild wings in her chest.

“You want Delta, we’ve got Delta. You want Belle, we’ve got Belle.”

His eyes bulged. “Belle, the slut Vasily was bringing to me?”

“Yes,” Drake said without hesitation.

Delta’s mind whirled, trying to make out what Drake was doing.

“We’ll give you Delta and we keep Belle.”

Delta couldn’t breathe. She clapped a hand to her unsteady heart. They were giving her up. Drake was giving her up.

Lucky snorted. “So you’ve realized she’s little good to anyone.”

“Except me,” Houlihan drawled, legs braced wide.

Delta fingered the star on her temple. She wasn’t going back to be mistreated. She’d make a break for it and risk someone shooting her. She could make it on her own.

Inside, she was dying, weeping, raging. Drake’s words, so nonchalant. Why was he doing this?

He threw her a look. “Delta for Belle.”

Dizzy, she looked around. The Sons weren’t standing up for her and Drake wore his mask.

Lucky nodded. “Done.” He waved for Delta to cross to their group, but Drake’s fingers lashed around her upper arm. All of a sudden his words flooded her brain.
Do you trust me, Princess? Really trust me? You’ll never leave my side.

Her bruised mind didn’t want to accept that she might be wrong—that Drake was bargaining her for Belle, but something was up his sleeve besides explosive.

“We’re not finished. We’ve got something else to put on the table.”

Lucky’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, our prez. Strother. He made a deal with your guys for prescription drugs and the deal went bad.”

“Yes, it fucking did.” Lucky stared at Delta then Drake. Apparently word had traveled that they’d been the cause.

“Your guy was shot. You need payback.”

Some of the Raiders agreed with guttural noises.

“We’ll give you our prez. Send you right to him. But you can’t harm his woman. Is that a deal?”

“What’s the exchange?”

“The Hell’s Sons prez for Delta. We get her and you leave her the fuck alone.”

Blood flooded into her fingertips, making them tingle, and tears jumped into her eyes. He wasn’t giving her up. He wanted her. Wanted to keep her, wanted her by his side.

Lucky didn’t reply for a long minute, as if trying to work out how the Sons were trying to screw him.

Finally, he said, “A prez for two sluts?”

“That’s right.” Drake’s voice was tight.

“A good trade.” Lucky came forward, hand extended, and Drake took it. Their grip was powerful, sealing the deal on three people’s fates.

It happened in a blink—Drake stepping back, weapon pulled, aimed right at Houlihan’s groin. She saw the blood splatter before she heard the shot.

Houlihan screamed, clapping his hand over his inner thigh where the bullet had grazed him. Blood welled between his fingers, coating the rings that had cut her time and again.

“That’s for harming a woman. And if you ever treat another the way you treated Delta, I won’t miss your balls.” Drake tugged on Delta’s hand, but she resisted.

She had business to finish first. Trembling inside, she walked up to the man who had never been a father to her. His eyes darkened at her approached. As she closed the gap, she pulled a knife from her pocket and switched it open.

He started to smirk, but when she pressed the blade to the corner of his ugly lips, he sobered. She glared at him, wishing Micky were out here to give her a fair due.

“I should cut you up for making me into Girl. The club girl, the one who every member mistreated.” Her words were low, burning. Drake was close—she caught his scent.

“You got what you deserved,” Lucky said.

She dug the blade into the corner of his mouth, nicking him. Blood beaded on the point, sickening her. She wasn’t willing to cause more harm in this world, even to someone so deserving.

“I wasn’t your real daughter, and thank God for that. It means I have no family ties to you or Micky. I can walk away and never give the two of you another thought.”

Blood trickled down his lip and into his mouth, staining his teeth as he grinned. Delta backed off slowly, heart hammering.

“Good riddance to bad blood.” He spat his own blood at her feet.

“C’mon,” Drake said quietly.

She didn’t close the blade but gave Drake her free hand. She hated these people she’d called family her entire life. It was time to claim her own people. She walked away with Drake’s hand in hers.

Behind her, Lucky chuckled.

Delta’s ire rose, but she didn’t rush back and thrust her knife into his throat she’d envisioned many times in her life. Instead, she tossed a look over her shoulder. “Oh, did you know
Mom
is blowing Houlihan?”

Lucky’s face mottled with rage. With a grunt, he turned and delivered a kick to Houlihan that made him fold in half and wheeze.

The Sons hurried Delta back to the van, some walking backward, but the Raiders made no move to retaliate. Delta was numb, still seeing Houlihan’s staring eyes and knowing he’d never hurt her again.

Copilot loped beside her, but when Ace peeled off to the SUV, the dog hesitated.

“Go on. I’m okay,” she said to Copilot. He nudged her hand and ran to the SUV. Ace stuck his head out of the door and grinned.

Delta came back to herself enough to wave. Part of her knew the dog was where he belonged—with his master. He’d been seeing to her safety and probably always would. But she really was okay.

Drake brushed his lips over her ear. “You didn’t believe me.”

She eyed him. “I thought my heart would crumble.”

He made a quiet noise and turned her into his arms. “It had to be done.”

Shaking, she pressed her face to his hard chest. “I only doubted you for a minute.”

He sank his teeth into her earlobe. “That was a minute too long, and I plan to take you to bed and show you just how damn long a minute is while you beg for release.”

She shuddered, hot arousal snaking through her body and replacing some of the chill. She still needed to wrap her mind around the events and what this meant for her.

Freedom—to live in peace with the club that had become her family, to build her relationship with Ever.

And to love this man who’d found his strength to stay away from the bottle. Then he’d supported her until she was able to find her own inner reserves.

She stared into his deep green eyes, aware that the haunted look was replaced by shining happiness. “I’m pretty good at tormenting in the bedroom too.”

“That you are, Princess. Now if you don’t get into this van, I’m going to have you against the door.”

“Mmm, sounds dangerous.” She cupped his jaw and went on tiptoe for a kiss.

He bit off a growl, his hard lips quirked at the corner, his gaze stripping her clothes off. “I think I’ve nurtured a future outlaw.”

“We make a good team, Clyde,” she drawled.

Laughing, he pinched her ass and encouraged her into the back seat. “Wait till I get you alone, Bonnie.”

Em Petrova lives in Backwoods, Pennsylvania, where she raises 4 kids and a Labradoodle named Daisy Hasselhoff. Her heroes are hardworking heroes—in bed and out—and she is known for panty-scorching erotic romance.

http://empetrova.com