Never Love an Outlaw: Deadly Pistols MC Romance (Outlaw Love) (58 page)

I looked at Blackjack. He nodded.

“You do the honors, son.”

“No. But I'm gonna say thanks for being honest just once in your life,” I growled to Fang.

He was shaking. I pulled the gun back, stuck it in my holster, and brought out my knife. Let him feel a second of misplaced relief before I let him see it. The fear in the ex-Prez's eyes swelled, and then it was just a reflection of murder.

I did everything he threatened to do to my girl, piece by fucking piece. Blackjack watched for five grisly minutes before I finally slammed my blade into Fang's skull.

When it was over, I cut away his patch, and threw one arm over the old man, helping him struggle back through the brush.

“Put me down,” he said, as soon as we saw the Devils and our crew again. “They'll take it from here. Go. Go find your woman.”

I didn't need to be told twice.

I found the worn blue van parked off a little service road, right where the asshole indicated. All my muscles tensed up as I approached the trunk.

A man never knows what he'll find in the back of a car in this world. If the lying bastard hurt her, killed her, then I'd run right back into the woods and dismember his ass all over again. What little was left to slice and dice, anyway. Shit, if he'd lied to me, I'd learn the darkest black magic I could to make sure his soul suffered worse in Satan's care than it already deserved.

I shook my head, pushing away the fucked up thoughts. The glass was dirty and I couldn't see inside. There was no sign of anyone screaming or banging within.

My hand caught the handle and pulled. It was unlocked, and it popped open with a
whoosh.

Fuck. There she was. Gagged, red eyed, balled up in the tiny space next to some old oil bottles, her hands and feet bound. But she was alive.

Missy tried to scream through the dirty rag in her mouth when she saw me. I threw myself in, pulling her into my arms, reaching for the same knife I'd just used to send Fang to justice. I cut her bindings first, then sliced carefully past her hair, ripping away the shitty cloth blocking her sweet lips.

“Baby girl.” I said it softly, just as she sucked in a huge breath and started to cry.

I flattened her on my chest, stroking the soft brown hair I was damned lucky to feel once again. I wondered how the hell it always stayed magnificent, sexy, even when she'd just been on a round trip through Hades.

“The asshole's dead. So are all the shits who did this to you. It's over, babe. There's nothing left for you to fear.”

“Brass.” She croaked my name and I helped pivot her face up to mine. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. I had to do the right thing. I didn't realize saving her and putting myself on the line would hurt you, hurt Jackie.”

She shuddered. Her face scrunched up and I thought the waterworks were gonna keep flowing, but she caught herself at the last second, drawing in a deep breath.

“I'm a screwed up mess. I thought I was strong, but I cracked in there.” She gestured to the van. “They left me bound up, and then I heard the gunshots...look at me. I'm a fucking mess.”

“Quiet, babe,” I growled, a little more angrily than I intended. She blinked. “It's okay to scream and scratch the ground when some fuck keeps you under the gun. You're doing what comes natural. But I want you to listen real fucking close and get this through your head.”

She tensed up in my arms. I clenched her tighter. No fucking way was I letting her slip away before I drilled it into her pretty skull.

“You're
my
fucking mess. You're my old lady. I own you, babe, now 'til the last day I'm alive and breathing on this rock. If you think freaking out or showing me you're scared and hurt's gonna drive me away, think again. Open up your head and make sure you're thinking at all, if that's what's running through your sweet head.” I paused, inhaling her delicious scent, pressing my forehead to hers. “I love you, Missy. I don't say that shit easy – I never fucking said it to anyone 'til you came along. Not even Shelly. My love's a wrecking ball and it only swings one way once it gets going. You got it? You're mine, babe, mine to love and only mine, whether you're howling underneath me in bed or walking into mine fields to save some chick.”

When I pulled my face away from her, she was trembling a little, but I knew it wasn't fear. She was fucking overwhelmed. And that was okay. Long as she was full of the same crazy thing I had ticking for her in my chest, I didn't give a damn.

I was about to start walking her back when she pinched her hands around me, feeling me up right there in the forest, raking her nails down my back like she couldn't believe I was real. Fuck me if I didn't get goosebumps singeing my skin while my dick swelled in my dirty pants.

“Babe, we need to get the fuck –“

She flung her face forward, crushing her lips against mine before I could say another word. And I mean
really
pressed them tight in the hungriest kiss I'd ever had with a chick in my entire life. It sucked all the hot air right outta my lungs, shocked me through my skull, lit my fucking blood on fire.

Then I couldn't think about anything at all except this incredible kiss. My brain knew it was better than sex, though my cock would've protested that with all his might.

We kissed for what felt like an hour out there in the wilderness, the wind blowing small wafts of burned flesh and blood toward us every so often. Shit, the club was gonna be cleaning up this mess for days, hopefully before any badges figured out who left a small battlefield behind.

None of that mattered. It was as distant as the damned moon. I just focused on her taste, her smell, swirling my tongue around hers.

Didn't matter how many times I took what was mine. It never got old, and it never would. She was like a perfect fruit that stayed ripe, waiting for my mouth, waiting for me to own her flesh the best way I knew how.

“I love you, Jordan,” she said, after a small eternity locking lips. “You know I'm not going anywhere as long as you keep giving me chances. I can't promise I won't screw up again...my life's got a lot of work left to straighten it out. And Jackie – God! Where is she?”

I smiled. “Shelly's bringing her down with a rental as soon as we sound the all clear. Should be here tomorrow now that we've cleaned house. The Devils won't be hanging too long. They'll be itching to get home as fast as they can, rather than clean up our fucking mess.”

“Wow. You've really thought of everything, haven't you?” She quirked an eyebrow.

“No way, babe. I've got a lot of shit on my plate. I've still gotta find a place for us to settle down. Maybe book a nice long getaway to Vegas or Reno. We've all got a lot to clear outta our heads. Best way I know how is drinking, fucking, and gambling.” She cocked her head, looking at me like the crazy bastard I was. “All right. We can throw in a mud bath massage thing or two at the spa. Whatever you girls like.”

“Jerk.” She punched my arm playfully, wiping the last salty remnants outta her eyes.

I shrugged, starting to walk her toward my bike. Had to take the furthest loop possible to keep her away from the savage scene left near the woods.

“It's what I do. And I'm gonna keep jerking your sweet ass around, every way that's good for you, as long as you call me your old man.”

“I guess I'd better get used to it,” she mused. “This is what I got myself into. And there's no way I'd ever want out.”

I grinned. Next thing on the list after settling club business was getting her a proper brand. Fuck, she'd look hot as hell wearing my name on her back in leather, and somewhere on her skin to boot.

The whole ride into town, with her wrapped around me, I couldn't believe we'd built ourselves something so real outta playing pretend.

Several Days Later

We were packed in like sardines at the clubhouse. There were so many brothers from all the charters up and down the coast Blackjack had to get the Grizzlies MC table dragged out into the bar, using the main stretch for this mega-church session.

The tension was thick. But it was an anxious, uncertain fog in the air, not the same scared-for-our-lives shit buzzing around under Fang.

I sat at the head of the table next to Blackjack, Rabid, and a couple other guys. The old man lifted the infamous bear claw off the bandage on his thigh, where he'd kept it resting until he was ready.

Everything about this shit was weird. Everything, from the throngs of Grizzlies in front of us, to seeing him with an energy in his eyes like nothing else. Then there was the brand new VP patch on my cut, something I never thought I'd be wearing 'til after I hit thirty.

“Brothers!” Blackjack smashed the bear's foot on the wood.

The commotion started to die down, with the local Prezes helping quiet their men. All their eyes focused on us. Good thing I didn't have any issue being the center of attention.

Wasn't sure I could say the same about Rabid. He looked a little freaked out. But maybe he was just trying to figure out how the fuck he was going to explain going after his new redheaded fixation to his favorite redheaded whore. He kept showing up at Christa's doorstep, ostensibly to keep tabs on her and make sure she stayed quiet after the shit that went down, but it seemed like he was going outta his way to do more than that.

“This is a brand new day for the Grizzlies MC,” Blackjack said, as soon as it was quiet, except for restless boots scraping the floor. “There's no need to sit here on my perch and recount the turmoil we've been through the past few months. Suffering under a tyrant, fighting the cartel off our throats, working with an MC we've spilled blood with...”

Several brothers in the audience growled. I wasn't gonna start loving Prairie Pussies anytime soon, but I didn't feel the old aching need to slam daggers into the backs of the sorry bastards who'd bailed our asses out either.

“Hold onto those memories. Then take your best blade, dig them out of your skull, and set them on fire.” Blackjack paused, letting his words sink in. “They're all done. Nothing but ashes now. Once upon a time, the Grizzlies MC was great. We had the tightest brotherhood from Billings to San Diego. No other club fucked with us west of the Mississippi because they'd get swarmed before they even thought about drawing our blood.”

I looked through the crowd. The tired, worn out men with gray in their hair and beards knew those days. It was no surprise a lot of the old timers had deserted Fang first.

“With me heading national now, we're bringing those days back, brothers. There's plenty of shit ahead left to sort out – rogue charters, Mexican hit men, the cash flow situation – but we'll do it. We always do. The blood of every brother who's fallen for this club flows in your veins. Guard it the same way you guard your colors, and remember what it means. If you do that, boys, you're already halfway there.”

Men stood and applauded. I looked at Blackjack and gave him a stern nod. Had to assert my authority, after all. The man had a gift for gab, though, nobody in the room could deny it.

The meeting was way too big to be anything but a ceremony for crowning the new leadership. The real business would come later, filtering down the charters from border to border, dangerous and glorious as it always was, and always would be with a man in charge who deserved to be called Prez.

A couple minutes later, the bear claw came down with a resounding clack. “Church dismissed. Now, go rock the fucking roof off.”

What would the biggest gathering of the club in years be without a sendoff party? I hung around and had a couple beers, shooting the shit with Rabid and a couple other guys. The whores rolled in about an hour later.

I passed Twinkie in the crowd a couple times, and she gave me a longing look. I turned my back and showed her the bear patch without hesitation. No fucking way was my dick going in any pussy that wasn't attached to my old lady from now on.

No other pussy compared.

Maybe it meant I was growing up, or else I'd just lost my damned mind. Regardless, I was dead set on doing right by my woman and my club. Taking the VP patch seriously meant the days of getting stinking drunk and fucking random sluts was behind me. They faded into smoke, almost as distant and unworldly as the ones I'd lived pushing shit into my veins.

“Brass.”

A hand fell on my shoulder and I turned, setting my empty beer glass on the bar. Blackjack stood behind me, decked out with a few more patches on his old cut.

“I've got something I need to give you, son. Come with me.”

I followed him down the long hall, passing several brothers with girls against the wall, their hands dipping between the bitches' legs. Loud rock drowned out almost all the sound, blasting through the clubhouse's sound system.

We stopped in front of the storage room. I gave him a dark look as he opened the huge door. The thing was slowly turning into a real storage room, changing from the dank and brutal dungeon it had been under Fang.

He walked me back to the end of two new shelves, and then grabbed a big black bag. “Right where I left it. Take it and get the hell out of here.”

It was awfully familiar. Heavy too. I looked inside and did a double take when I saw all the cash stuffed in there.

“What the fuck? This is Missy's old inheritance.” I looked up, meeting his eyes. “I thought this shit belonged to the club's coffers now?”

“Not anymore. A million in cash is what your girls deserve for their pain and suffering through all this.” He reached into his pocket, plucked out a cigarette, and gave it a light. “This club's got to get its sins right. I'd give you the rest, but it's already been deposited and spent, laundered through our legit operations.”

“It's plenty.”

“There'll be more for her if she wants to work the club's books. We need an accountant who can keep her mouth shut. Barrel decided to go down with Fang's ship, and I'm not sure about any other brothers keeping watch,” he said, talking about our old club treasurer. “Fucker had been skimming money off left and right for years. So did Fang. Fat lot of good it did them in the end.”

I nodded. Blackjack looked at me and waved his hand.