Never Love an Outlaw: Deadly Pistols MC Romance (Outlaw Love) (50 page)

I didn't like the way the fuck's eyes wandered. One of them looked artificial. The other kept skipping me entirely and sinking to the side, staring at Jackie while she messed with a vending machine on the other side of the shitty lobby.

“Something else you need?” I growled, wishing he'd hurry the fuck up.

The jackoff looked down sheepishly and shook his head, reassuring me everything was in order.

Soon as he passed me the keys, I grabbed Missy's hand and walked over to the little girl. “Let's get the fuck inside and rest for a few hours. Don't forget to check for bed bugs.”

My girl gave me a worrying look. Jackie just laughed. The room was cramped, a little smoky, but surprisingly not bad.

The women showered, one after another, and then it was my turn. However shitty the place was, it had a working water tank. Feeling the hot jets racing down my muscles felt fucking amazing after two days of pure hell. Only thing better would've been having Missy there with me, wet and slippery and sexy as the time I took her at the apartment, the first time we fucked.

Fuck, my cock throbbed like mad. Had to fight hard to resist jerking it. No, I wasn't resorting to that teenage shit. Didn't care how many hours were left before I fucked my woman – I wasn't gonna do anything but fucking when the time came.

Truth time: I hadn't jerked my dick in years when there was always pussy waiting for it. But no pussy was more perfect than hers, and the
need
to be inside it almost put me in a straight jacket.

I was practically drooling by the time I stepped out, toweled off, and dried my hair. When I came out, the girls were already crashed out in two beds, exhausted after the day long drive.

I stayed shirtless and climbed in next to my old lady. For a few minutes, I laid there, listening for anything fucked up going on outside the room, any sign I should pass on sleep and meet the Prairie Pussies tomorrow with bloodshot eyes.

My fucking body didn't want to cooperate. The sandman yanked my eyelids like cheap shades. I ended up falling asleep without even realizing it.

I dreamed about anger, violence, and sex. Same shit that always rattled my brain at night. It was more feverish than usual, and at some point I rolled, opening my eyes.

The bed next to us was empty.

Fuck!

I shot up like a lightning bolt and reached for Missy first. She was still there – thank fuck – rolling sharply when she felt my arm sweeping over her. She moaned, rubbing her eyes.

“Brass?” She said, full of grog.

“Stay right there, babe. Don't fucking move. Take this.” I reached onto the night stand and took the switchblade, handing it to her.

It was her turn to panic when she sat up and saw what was going on. The covers went flying off the bed and she stood, desperately scanning the room.

“Where's Jackie!?”

“Don't fucking know, but I'm gonna find out.”

She called after me, but I was on the move. I'd seen enough shit to know every single nano-second counts in a situation like this. My blood roared like a lion's at his breaking point. Fuck, if anybody took her and plucked a single brown hair outta her head, I'd gut them faster than they could beg for their miserable life.

Outside, it was still pitch dark. Several lights were burned out, and the place was quiet as ever.

No, there was something coming from below. Moaning. A bed creaking. Somebody fucking.

Loud shouts. A woman screamed – this time, not in pleasure.

I didn't bother with the stairs leading down from our second floor room. I hopped right over the fucking rail and fell several feet, hitting the pavement hard. Ignoring the fire in my knees, I headed for the noisy room and threw myself threw the door.

The couple in bed was greasy, disheveled, and ugly as sin. They'd stopped fucking because of the jackass rolling around on the floor, the asshole with the lazy eye who'd checked us in.

He was thrashing around in pain, grabbing his crotch. Jackie was backed into a corner, her clothes messed up, eyes red with tears, shaking. Just like a cornered cat.

Hot air hissed out my lungs. If the fuck managed to do anything, she wouldn't be dressed. I charged like a bull, jumping on the bed, ripping off the covers.

The couple were just as nasty underneath the sheets. They screamed, rolling on the floor, trying to get away. Or that's what I thought at first, before the pudgy asshole who'd been fucking the hag started to laugh.

I looked at the nightstand and saw a familiar arrangement. Smack, ice, several joints half-burned to a crisp, a nine millimeter with its clip laying next to it. Typical junkie shit. I grabbed the drugs in a fistful and threw it on the bitch, who was shaking and moaning, halfway outta her fucking gourd.

These motherfuckers wouldn't say shit. If the motel wasn't deserted, somebody else would've been standing at the door I'd kicked in after all this commotion, but there was no one there except –

“Missy. Take your sis and go. I'll handle this.”

My girl looked like she'd seen a fucking ghost. Well, she'd definitely seen some demons. I walked to the corner, took Jackie's hand, and led her out to her big sister.

“I hope you busted his fucking balls, girl. You did the right thing. Don't feel bad for a single goddamned second. I'll do the rest,” I whispered in her ear and ran my fingers through her hair before handing her off.

Reaching into my pocket, I handed Missy the keys. “Get the truck warmed up and wait for me. Change of plans. We're heading out early and not stopping 'til we hit Missoula.”

I waited 'til I heard the truck's growl to shove the door shut – at least as much as it would close on the busted hinges. Then I walked to the asshole on the floor, reaching for my gun, the lazy eyed fuckface who'd tried to make an innocent girl part of this sick orgy.

He saw me coming, reached into his pocket, and haphazardly flashed a hunting knife. I rolled my eyes, stomping his hand flat with my boot. The knife and his fingers crunched underneath my foot. Didn't let up 'til I had to lean down and silence his screams.

“Lemme go, Mister! I didn't hurt her...ow! Honest, honest – fucking honest! Just wanted to have a little fun...make a little movie...”

I saw the bag behind him on the stand by the bathroom, clearly holding a camera. Good. That would come in handy in a minute.

No, I hadn't gotten an epiphany about peace and forgiveness. The fuck was as good as dead the second I walked in here, but now I had an idea. Skinning his ass was gonna help me out, and maybe my brothers too.

I looked to my side, glancing at the old TV that looked like it's best days were in the late eighties. “You know, I can handle the peeling paint and the old sheets. But there are some things you really should've upgraded here.”

He looked at me like I'd lost my mind. It was the last look the fucked up worm would ever give anyone. I reached down, grabbed his hair, and picked him up, throwing him face first into the TV with all my might.

Funny how broken circuits and glass can drown out a man's screams. He was too shocked to howl or struggle as I picked up his hunting knife and drove it into his back, stabbing him repeatedly 'til he stopped moving. His carcass slumped halfway to the floor and stopped, held up by the TV still attached to his head.

The skank on the floor between the beds was looking at me, trying to process what she'd seen through her druggie brain. I still had a couple little baggies of shit I'd scooped up off the table in my pocket.

Her eyes lit up when I approached, holding the small pack of ice in front of her face the way you tease a dog with a treat. “You want this shit?”

“Yeah! Just give it to
me.
My man's hogged enough for one day...” Over on the other side, the fat man groaned, totally blasted.

“I'd say he has. It's all yours, if you tell the camera who killed this fucker with his head in the screen.” I pointed.

It took her a moment to follow my hand. “Who? Who? Who killed you, Joey?”

I let that shit sink in, listening to her mumbling like a demented owl as I picked up the camera, took it outta its case, and gave it a quick look. Everything seemed fine. It was old, still had a tape, but I knew how to use it. Now, I just hoped the piece of shit I'd thrown through the TV wasn't so sloppy it was broke.

“This is a hit ordered by Fang, bitch. Say it.
Fang,
President of the Grizzlies Motorcycle Club, California. You tell 'em I left the fucking message with you, right after I threatened to cut your throat. I came, I saw, I fucked him up for stealing from the club. Drugs, bitch – that ice you're hankering for –

understand?” I used my best interrogator voice while I unscrewed the cap. “Now, repeat that back to me.”

Camera on.

“Fang did this. The Grizzlies. Bikers...biker bastards. You...you threatened to cut me open...” She sniffed, eyes more vacant than ever. “This is for drugs...drugs! Shit, where's mine?”

I let the camera pan around the room, focusing on the dead man. Sooner or later, some boys in blue would find this fucking mess, but my junkie “witnesses” would be long gone by then. They wouldn't know what the hell because it wasn't meant for them.

I had it all mapped out in my head. This was Plan B, a backup in case too many charters outside California sided with Fang. Once they saw this sloppy shit, he was one lame fucking duck.

“You killed him! You and your Grizzlies,” the junkie screamed, recognition flickering in his eyes. “All over my sweet crystal...”

I teased her, giving the baggie in my free hand a shake. She slapped her fists on the ground, truly upset, rolling her head back and letting tears slide down her cheeks. Perfect.

Switching the camera off, I stuffed it in its case, and then threw the ice in her lap. Turning my head away from her for the last time was a fucking relief. I'd need a couple long, hard nights with Missy to forget those saggy, bruised tits.

“Snort up. Don't use it all in one night.”

I heard her laughing behind me as I stepped out and closed the door. By some small miracle, I'd barely gotten Lazy Eye's blood on me when I did him in. Just had his hunting knife with me, and it'd be getting cleaned up and dropped in the trash at the nearest remote place we found on our way to Devils' territory.

Missy got out of the driver's seat and slid over when she saw me coming. I got in the truck and felt her hand on mine.

“How's our girl doing?” I asked, looking across her at Jackie.

“Just fine. He didn't touch her. He never got the chance. He forced her downstairs with a knife...came into our room when we were fucking sleeping.” Rage filled her voice.

I nodded, taking the wheel and steering the truck onto the road. “It's all over, babe. We got lucky this time.”

“No,” Missy snapped. “You did this. You protected us both.”

She squeezed my arm something fierce. “God, Brass. We'd be dead or worse several times over if it wasn't for you.”

“You can't sell your sis short, babe. Jackie's strong, just like her big sis. I like hearing how awesome I am, just like anybody else, but fuck me if you're not holding your own. Both of you. And I need you to keep it up.”

She leaned into me, resting her head on my shoulder. “We'll try.”

“Fuck yeah, you will,” I growled, tapping the accelerator to catch some speed on the highway. “You'll stay strong because that's the way I like my woman. If I didn't think you could, I wouldn't have kept you as mine, even with that smoking hot bod.”

She smiled, leaned in, and kissed my arm. Over in the darkness, Jackie was glancing our way. I really felt bad for the kid. She'd been through so fucking much. Couldn't catch a break wherever we ended up.

But that little glimmer in her eye said she approved. She understood. She was catching up to Missy, becoming a woman in her own right, forged in the fire no teen should have to face.

And after we got to Montana, I was gonna make sure she never had to again.

The Lazy Eyed fucker I'd killed and greedily recorded had gotten too damned close to wrecking everything. Anger pumped in my veins, and even having sweet Missy's skin on mine wouldn't calm it just now.

There was no pulling back. No letting my guard down. Nothing but red hot rage was gonna serve me 'til I saw Fang's lifeless eyes and my girls finally had a place to settle the fuck down.

They deserved a home, somewhere to rest without having to worry about who'd be at their throats the next day. God willing, I'd deliver home and a lot more. This shit between us – all three of us – went beyond convenience and love.

They were part of me. They shared my suffering. For that, they'd soon be showered with everything I could give 'em. I'd run my crazy ass ragged so they never had to suffer a damned thing every day they drew breath.

My eyes burned when we got to Missoula, but I wasn't tired. No fucking way was I surrendering to the thing that nearly fucked me over 'til I was good and sure my work was done.

When we got into town, I pulled into a rest stop. Kept a close eye on the girls while I placed a call to Blackjack. Let him know I'd be sending a copy of the video his way in the next day or two.

Back in the truck, Missy was leaning on me a little more with every mile, staring into my eyes.

“You're sure we can trust these men, Brass?”

“No.” She looked at me like I'd lost my mind as soon as I said it. “But I do know they don't hurt women and children. The Devils are notorious for picking up strays and nursing 'em back to health. Just in case, I'm not taking any chances...”

She narrowed her pretty eyes, beaming more questions my way. I refused to answer 'til we were right at their gates. The grinning devil on the building behind their fence leered out, a full blown mural with the guys and their infamous logo painted on it.

The gate didn't open. A tall man with short, spiky hair walked up, and I instantly stifled a growl. It was Blaze, the bastard who'd married my sister. The giant named Tank and the shorter, leaner guy who served as his VP, Stinger, was coming up behind him.

“Stay here!” I heard my girl yell to her kid sis, joining me at the gate.

Fuck, I didn't like her there, right in the open, but I wasn't gonna fight it.