Never Love an Outlaw: Deadly Pistols MC Romance (Outlaw Love) (47 page)

“Yeah, except this is a lot more serious.” Or that's what it's
supposed
to be, I thought, my heart darkening when I imagined all the ways our brotherhood went off the rails. “Anyway, there was this one mean fuck in Coeur d'Alene who always punched the prospects in the nuts. Hard as he fucking could, just short of leaving 'em sterile. I knew what was coming that night at the party, when all the boys were drunk and ready to fuck around messing with their new guys. There was an old brass doorknob coming loose in the bathroom. I stuffed it down my pants before it was my turn to serve that fuck a drink. Asshole broke his fucking hand when he nailed me in the balls. I got away a little winded. Nothing worse.”

She blinked, then laughed and shook her head. “That's crazy. What stopped him from killing you after that?”

“Prez took a vote to patch me in right on the spot. Said it was the hardest he'd laughed in years. Fuck, I'd give anything if Ox was controlling Redding instead of Fang. He was fucked up in his own way, but fair. Lot like Blackjack.”

“So, you're kinda the joker boy, then?” She dragged her fingernails along my chest. My skin sizzled, hair standing on end, crying to fuck her the second I was hard. “You never said what your real name is.”

“It's Jordan, babe. Jordan Reagan. Don't wear it out. Best time for me to hear it's when your pussy's exploding on my dick.”

“Jordan,” she whispered. “It's good. Strong. About what I expected.”

“Good. I'd have laughed in your face if you expected me to be called Manny or some shit like that.”

“I don't care what they call you. I know what I want, Brass, and it's right here.”

Fuck yes, she did.

Missy leaned down, flicking her tongue along my lips. A couple more flicks in quick succession teased me stupid.

Little devil.
She knew how to work my ass as well as I knew how to work hers, and I loved it. On the fourth lick, I reached up and fisted her hair, holding her tight to my lips.

I wouldn't let her outta that kiss 'til she reached down and grabbed my cock, hardening against her thigh. She gave it a good squeeze and I grunted. I wanted to pull her thighs open and drive deep inside her, make her ride me for all she was worth, but I needed another condom first.

I saw red, thinking about how I had to get her that shit I had waiting in my jeans. Things would move a lot more natural after I gave her the pills I snatched from the club infirmary.

Not that I was gonna register a single fucking complaint about the filthy deeds going down in this bed all evening. No fucking way. Every day breathing in her sweet scent while I fused my dick to her was a good one.

I just hoped like hell there'd be many more to come, many more perfect days tangled up in my old lady.

“Come on, babe. We gotta get this shit locked in for Friday before you take off.”

She pulled on my cut, dazed at all the choices in the rental office. Reserving something to carry her and Jackie north was the best way to get them outta Redding without the brothers being able to track her down. Giving her my truck was way too risky.

“You're sure you can afford this?” she asked, her fingers running over a cherry red hatchback thing in the catalogue.

“Yeah. We'll be good as gold just as soon as my next club stipend comes in. Better to get our pieces together now.”

“But we don't even know
where
yet!”

She looked so damned confused, disoriented. I grabbed her hand and pushed my fingers through hers. Raw strength always reassured a woman, and I had no doubt it was gonna work on the one I wanted most.

“I like the look of that car.” I pointed at the bright red vehicle. “A little style, and not so much it'll draw attention. Extra space to carry your shit north, and plenty rugged for the mountains and forests we'll be dealing with past NorCal.”

She punched me in the arm. I grinned. “Careful, Mister. I just might decide to take that Harley up and have
you
drive Jackie in the hatchback.”

I laughed. She knew how to dish it out and take it. My kinda girl, as if it wasn't glaringly fucking obvious by now.

“All right. That one it is. It's even got some fancy USB shit to keep Jackie entertained. I'm gonna get both you girls new phones before we blow town, as soon as we're free and clear.”

I left her standing near the counter while I went to arrange the rental. I looked behind me while the skinny fuck with the thin mustache at the counter ran my card. Saw her walking off, probably heading for the restroom or something.

The kid passed me my printout and told me the car would be ready in a couple days. Perfect timing to get the reservation fee off my shit and pay it all in cash, same way I dealt with everything. Before I moved away, I looked him up and down.

The dude wasn't much younger than me, maybe a year or two. He looked like a little boy. I grunted. One thing I'd never regret about this life was that it made me a man, no matter how fucked up it could be sometimes.

If it wasn't for the club...I might've turned into something like that, and then I'd want to blow my fucking brains out. The civilian world wasn't for me. If I really and truly left the patch behind, then I'd have to find something else to do.

There had to be something out there to accommodate men like me. The world still needed a place for roughnecks and road warriors, even if we were an endangered species.

There must've been something better than clacking keyboards or ringing up pissy, impatient customers at a place like this. Whatever it was, I swore I'd find it. Anything to rake in cash for my girls without lopping off my nuts was fine by me.

A man provides. I should've done it for Ma and Shelly back in Missoula, before my own sis was reduced to shaking her ass at a Prairie Pussy bar for spare cash. But my relationship with the ladies had been...strained, to put it mildly.

A fucked up home was all it took to drive me into the club, and then I found the sick paradise heroin offered. I shook my head, trying to do the math and figure out how many months it had fucked outta my life. Looking down at my arm, I saw the fading impression left by a fat needle. It was the last time those freaks in fake Grizzlies colors forced it into my veins after I betrayed them, trying to make me OD on the one thing I loved.

Blaze and Shelly saved my dumbass that night. I thought Fang did too, but he was just a king, moving his pawns around on the grand board.

You're gonna do better,
I vowed.
You fucking have to.

I waited impatiently by the restroom for Missy. She didn't come out for five minutes. Then ten. Then another five on top of that.

Weird, and seriously fucking suspicious.

A motorcycle growled outside, not far from mine. I spun around, just in time to see a dude with long black hair pulling away. It was quite a distance, but I'd know that damned patch from a hundred yards away.

Shit! The club!

My brain switched onto search, kill, and protect mode. I smashed the door open to the lady's room and called for her.

“Missy? Babe, where the fuck are you?” Nothing. Not even any feet underneath the stalls.

My heart started to beat like it was gonna go nova. I ran, threw myself onto my bike. I started her up and squealed outta the parking lot before I had time to think anything else, heading for the clubhouse.

I knew something was fucked up the instant I stepped into the bar. Half the guys' bikes were parked outside, but nobody was inside. It was a fucking ghost town.

I listened close. Couldn't hear a single brother snoring or fucking like they always did on lazy afternoons.

Shit.
I started to back away, toward the door. If Missy was being kept here somewhere, then there had to be a better way to find her...

“Fuck...” I stumbled down the steps leading into the garage, and then felt something behind me that shouldn't have been there.

I whirled, reaching for my gun, and caught a blur right before it crashed into my face. The asshole's metal pipe knocked me flat. Vertigo took over, dragging me down, smearing everything to blood red, the color of rage and confusion.

A fat boot landed on my chest and pressed down hard. My ribs screamed.

“Get this fucking rat off the floor and load him up like Fang wants. We got the girls. If she doesn't make him sing, then maybe the little sister will...”

Serial. If I could've reached up and strangled that sick motherfucker, I'd have done it in a heartbeat. But my brain wouldn't cooperate, spinning into a thick, incomprehensible blackness.

I was out like a light, an early preview of the death they had waiting for my sorry ass.

One Hour Earlier

I
never knew how they got in without us noticing. My head was spinning as I walked to the bathroom, wondering how I was going to break the news to Jackie. I wasn't even sure how I'd navigate a road trip this week when I'd never been more than a hundred miles outside Redding my entire life.

I was barely looking for wet floor signs when I pushed open the door, much less three burly men in leather waiting for me. I crashed right into his chest and he had his hand over my mouth before I could scream.

I fought them anyway, kicked and thrashed as they picked me up like a piece of wood, carrying me to the SUV outside. I twisted in the big man's arms and caught a flash of Brass still waiting at the counter. Perfectly normal, and totally twisted.

There were too many blocking the view. God damn it, if only he'd turned around.

Luck was never that kind. As soon as they threw me in the backseat, another man stuffed something fat and rubbery in my mouth. My teeth were struggling with the gag when another rag covered my face, reeking like thick medicine. The smell had a resemblance to all the high powered pain killers daddy was on during his last days.

Ether.

All the horror in my head melted away in one breath. By the second breath, I was falling into a deep black abyss, too lifeless to even think about screaming for help.

“Wake up, bitch.” A rough hand caressed my cheek.

I jerked up. Too fast. My head throbbed like a bad hangover, and I struggled to adjust to the bright lamp hanging somewhere overhead. My wrists burned, and so did my shoulders. I realized a second later I was tied to a chair, identical to the girl right across from me.

Jackie!
My heart sank and tears pricked at my eyes when I realized it was her, right before the rage set in.

She was still passed out, a tiny shred of mercy, her small face slumped on her shoulder. They must have given her the same crap they'd given me.

“Who are you? Why're you doing this?”

The man who'd touched me from behind stepped into the light. I recognized the fucked up mess of barbed wire on his face right away. Serial, and the other headed bastard named Splitter with the nose ring was right behind him. Several other dark shapes lingered behind Jackie, the light obscuring their faces.

“Let her go,
asshole,
” I hissed. “I don't care what you do to me. But my sister doesn't deserve this, she's got nothing to do with anything your club wants. You can't –“

He cut me off with a sharp slap across the face. My cheek burned when I twisted my head back into place. The pain didn't stun me for some weird reason. It only added to the blinding rage tearing through my blood.

“She's got everything to do with helping this club. You and your cute little twin are gonna help us loosen up the rat's tongue before we pour concrete over his fucking carcass.”

Jesus! They're really going to kill him.

I started to shake. The animal talked way too easy about killing the man I was just beginning to love. Serial showed no remorse. There was nothing in his dark eyes. Not even pleasure. It was like staring into a machine designed to look and talk like a man, but murder was its sole function.

“Just be a good girl and cooperate, baby,” Splitter said behind him, chuckling beneath his breath. “This'll all be over fast if you do. You don't have to die with your old man. Nobody believes that shit about him claiming you.”

“He did!” I insisted. Didn't know why I thought it would.

The men just laughed and shook their heads. I realized this was the worst time imaginable to be arguing about what Brass meant to me. But if we were dying here today, then somebody had to know we weren't just playing pretend.

Somebody had to witness what I had in my heart, the only thing I was sure about, other than protecting Jackie on this emotional roller coaster making my heart howl.

“Whatever, princess. Guess fucking a rat's in your blood knowing who your daddy was.” Serial walked over to what looked like a small black bag on a nearby table. “You wanna play Romeo and Juliet, I honestly don't give a shit. Those fucks both died in the end, didn't they? Shakespeare was a mean sonofabitch. So am I. Thing is, you don't have to die with him. Neither does the little chick if you stuff that bitch tongue and cooperate.”

A zipper opened. The men behind Jackie shifted uncomfortably, their heads turned toward whatever the hell Serial was taking out of the bag.

He spun. The tangle of sharp metal made me want to scream, but then my brain froze, struggling to understand what it was seeing.

Jesus Christ. Was he really wearing that thing on his hand?

It looked like a mess of knives, corkscrews, daggers, and hooks attached to an old baseball glove. Some sicko's fucked up idea of what a Swiss Army knife should look like if it were designed to be worn for flaying skin.

“You like it, cunt?” Serial sniffed, taking a step closer. “We call this nasty fucking thing the Mauler. It's the club's pride and joy, and she only comes out when a bullet to the brain isn't good enough. Sometimes I wish there were a few more rats crawling around. This poor baby goes a long time between her meals, and when she finally gets some blood, she's fucking
hungry.
”

His eyes weren't so dark anymore. Now, there was a monstrous pleasure shining in his eyes. Somehow, I held it together, feeling myself leave my body, hovering over all this. I guess it was my natural defense against breaking down in tears or screaming my lungs out in front of this maniac.