Outlaw's Bride (22 page)

Except it wasn't just hers anymore.

My
walls.
My
pussy.
My
everything, now.

I owned this woman, and I'd never, ever let the fuck up.
Never.

“Tell me you understand, babe, or I'll forget about taking shit slow and easy.” I paused, listening to her murmur nonsense, pleading as my cock slid through her. “I'll pull out, march the fuck over to your purse, and throw every packet of those pills out the window. I'll knock you up tomorrow without a second thought if you've still got doubts about
any
of this.”

“Oh, God. Roman...please.”

“Please, what?” I growled, nipping at her earlobe. Her pussy kept getting hotter and hotter around my cock. “Fucking say it. Say you understand!”

My rough palm slapped her ass. Then she said the words that almost sucked all the wind outta my sails.

“I'm sorry, I don't know what it is. I don't know what I'm thinking anymore. I love you!”

The L-word left me too stunned to speak. I did the only thing I could – I grabbed her round ass and fucked her as hard as I could, showing her the shit I couldn't bring myself to say in every thrust of my hips.

I'd never been much for words, especially when all this raw emotion swept me up like a damned wave, pouring its energy into my hips.

She came lightning on my dick, and I emptied myself in her for the second time of many that night.

Much later, after we'd fucked ourselves sore, I watched her drifting off to sleep. I pulled her closer, settling her soft cheek on my chest, brushing the golden locks outta her face.

“You think some crazy shit, girl. All these fucked up misunderstandings between us...they're over. We're starting over.” I paused, filling her ear with hot, eager breath. “I love you too, babe. Don't you ever doubt it again.”

Day four of my attempt to jam two lost years of fucking into one week started like gold. I sucked her sweet cunt 'til she came, then took her again in the shower, watching her ass bounce as the cool water washed away last night's sweat.

We cleaned up and went down to get breakfast with Caleb. She started cooking eggs and bacon on the stove while I fed the kid, making those rocket sounds that made him laugh every time I spooned food into his hungry little lips.

Then my phone lit up next to me, buzzing on the table. I swore, picked it up, and cursed a second time when I saw Brass' number.

“What's going on, brother?”

“Get your ass down to the Jennings' place now. There's been an incident.”

“Fuck.” I stood up, shoved the chair away, hoping Sally hadn't heard her family name dropped. “What the hell happened? Cartel?”

“Two guys down. One of ours. They got that stubborn bastard, Norm, too. He's fucked up real bad. The ambulance just picked him up, and the Prez'll be by shortly to deal with our contacts in the Redding PD to keep this shit quiet.”

“Sonofabitch. I'm on my way.” I was about to hang up when I thought about my girl. She deserved to know about her cousin. “Wait, is it safe to bring my old lady?”

Brass paused. “It's daytime. They won't have the balls to show their faces here for a repeat, especially while the cops are swarming in. Come on, brother, move your ass.”

The line went dead. Sally stopped cooking and she was at my side, her face creased up with fear.

“We gotta go, babe. I'll talk to Christa or Missy to see about somebody watching Caleb. Your cousin's hurt.”

“What?! Norman?” Hot tears exploded in her eyes. “
Idiot.
I told him to get out while the going was good! I tried.”

The anger melted, and she clutched at my arm. “Is it bad?”

“Dunno. Come on. We gotta fucking move.”

Stryker sat next to Asphalt on the farmhouse porch, a torn shirt wrapped around his bicep. The blood seeped through it like dark crimson paint, and I saw equal fucking red every time I looked around the small war zone around us.

Glass blown out all through the kitchen, spilling into the garden out back. Some fucker had taken out the windows, blasted an automatic straight up the side of the house. I wasn't sure where the hell Sally used to keep our son, but thinking it could've been
him
in there, waiting to get cut to pieces by some asshole's fire, filled me with a special rage.

“Spit it out. What the hell did you guys see?”

“I just got back from making the rounds,” Asphalt said, tensing up. “Stryker and Beam were supposed to be watching the house. No sooner than I stepped off my bike, parking it out back by the barn, the truck tore in and lit the place up. I hit the ground and drew. Started firing at the windshield. I put a couple holes through their glass, but I don't think I hit any of the motherfuckers. They whipped the truck around and screamed outta there before anybody could blow their tires.”

“And that's how you ended up with a bullet in your arm?” I looked at Stryker.

He nodded. His eyes were wide, as if he was still processing the shock. The boy looked too damned nervous for my liking, but sometimes new brothers were like this when they saw their own blood hit the floor for the first time.

“They got inside. Don't know how, maybe some sneaky fucks on foot, maybe another vehicle. I heard Norm screaming downstairs, went running to back him up. Next thing I know, the windows exploded. Some cartel SOB kicked the back door open and sent hell my way. If I hadn't moved fast enough, I would've caught this shit in the chest.” He pounded himself on the heart with his fist.

Lucky man. Too fucking lucky for my liking. I folded my arms, staring them both down.

Asphalt would never screw us over. As for our new additions – and where the fuck was Beam, anyway? – I wasn't so sure.

“Rest up, brother. I'm going in to survey the scene.” I walked in and found Sally already inside.

She stood in the kitchen, staring at the mess, two bloody streaks on the floor left behind by Stryker catching lead on his way to the basement. Her big blue eyes looked up at me, and then she turned, heading for the downstairs door.

I caught up and grabbed her wrist, spinning her against my chest. “Don't. I'm going down first to make sure it's all clear. It's my job. Prez said it's fucking gruesome. Stay the hell up here unless you wanna see your cousin's dried blood too.”

I didn't mention the busted teeth scattered on the ground. Men had definitely gotten into the house, and they'd surprised the stubborn farmer, pistol whipping him into a coma, or maybe using something bigger and heavier than a gun.

“You're right,” she snapped. “I need to be with him. How much longer?”

“I'll take a quick peek downstairs, and then we'll head to the hospital.”

I ripped open the door and pounded down the narrow stone steps, ducking as I made my way into the hole in the ground that doubled as a laundry room and storm shelter. Scattered light poured through the crack in the storm door to the side. The basement's lone light bulb was smashed in the commotion.

I saw something move against the wall, and my hand instantly drew. Beam's ugly face appeared in the shadows. Anger tangled up his bitter mug when he saw me with a nine millimeter aimed at his head.

“You gonna finish what we started at the clubhouse by blowing my brains out my skull?”

“Depends on what the fuck you're doing down here. Why aren't you upstairs?”

“Same reason you're down here, brother. I'm taking it all in. Trying to figure out what the fuck happened. Prez thinks we've got a rat in our ranks. Looks like it's Stryker to me.”

Fuck.
I goddamned despised being on the same page as this asshole. I lowered my gun, kicked aside some broken glass left by the light bulb. A few tiny pellets bounced behind the washer – probably the poor bastard's teeth.

“The storm door was locked up tight. They busted the window, undid the lock, and fucked him up before he could get off a shot.” Beam pointed to the bloody shotgun laying in the corner. “It's like somebody knew exactly how to get inside. Only thing I'm not sure about is what the fuck drew him down here in the first place.”

“Leave that shit to me,” I growled, trying to keep the hot gun in my hand aimed at the ground.

“Whatever you want. Listen, I'm sorry we got into it the other night. I was a fucking idiot to keep going after Sally after you'd claimed her. I know that now.”

“Stay the fuck away from my woman, and we won't have any more problems.”

The bastard managed a thin, awkward smile. I didn't trust him – especially not with that punk rock haircut looking like he'd just walked outta the nearest pet shop. He'd get his ass whipped hard in prison for that.

Too bad I wasn't sure if Stryker was an even bigger bastard. Neither of these boys sat right with me, and my rat senses droned every time I looked at both of 'em. If only we'd waited a couple weeks before handing them the patch.

Fuck.
I'd have never voted yea.

“Shake on it.” Beam stuck his hand out. “The Prez doesn't want any bad blood in the club. I'm man enough to admit I fucked up bad, brother, and I hope some day you'll forgive me.”

It took me several seconds to finally take it. I squeezed him so hard his fingers flinched in mine. Then I broke away, stuffing my gun back in my holster.

“Just get outta here and take the other door. I can forgive you, but my old lady's not ready for that shit after what you did.”

He nodded, and I watched him undo the storm door's lock. It banged behind him as he headed out, going up the small stone steps leading to the garden behind the house.

I looked shit over again. None of it made sense. I also realized I'd forgotten to ask the bastard where he'd been all night, and I'd need to remedy that as soon as we all calmed the fuck down.

When I got upstairs, Sally sat at the kitchen table, her face resting delicately in one hand. She stood up when she saw me.

“Well?”

“Let's get outta here. We'd better go see your cousin before the Prez rides my ass to debrief on this shit. I've got a few hours, if we're lucky.”

She followed me back to the truck. The whole drive out to the hospital, she clung to my hand, as if I'd single-handedly swept down from the sky and carried her away from all this.

That was only half the battle when I marched in and took control. We'd gotten lucky that I'd gotten her and the kid out before things went to shit.

Lady Luck winked at my sorry ass this time, but I wasn't gonna rely on her help again. I had to find the rat and make sure the Mexicans were chased outta NorCal forever. Anything less put my old lady and son at risk, and I'd fucking die before it was their blood on the ground instead of Norm and Stryker's.

The man in the hospital bed had the hellfire sucked right outta him.

Norm's arms and legs were shattered. They'd busted his jaw too, fractured it with such skull-cracking force the poor bastard would be lucky to operate a good pair of dentures or some implants one day.

I watched my girl kneel at his side, her hand tightly clutching his. “Why did you have to be this stupid? This stubborn?
Why?
”

She kept shaking her head. I stepped up, put my hand on her shoulder, and squeezed.

“Just let him rest, babe. He did a dumb thing, digging in his heels when he knew he didn't have the support. But he stood up for your place like a man, and I can respect that. He's a tough motherfucker. I gotta feeling he'll be on his feet again sooner than you think.”

So I hoped. I wasn't just hoping my woman's cousin would bounce back for her sake neither. He just might be the only man there that night who could tell us what happened, without feeding the club a line of bullshit.

I barely trusted letting Stryker and Beam outta my sight. Their wounds and tough words didn't prove shit. Somebody ratted to let the cartel slip through for this kinda attack, and there'd be absolute hell to pay when we found out who.

Sally stood up, blotting at the angry tears slicing down her cheeks. “Maybe you're right. I just didn't think it'd come to this. I knew the cartel was horrible, but seeing their brutality like this, up close and personal...”

I didn't let her say another word. Just pulled her in tight and smashed her face to my chest. I held her for a long time, eyeing the beat up shell of a man in that bed.

He'd fought the bastards hard and lost, stumbling into disaster without realizing how shitty his odds were. Maybe mine weren't much better, the same as the rest of the club, but damn if I'd get my ass kicked so easily.

These fucking invaders would
never
put my old lady or my kid in a bed like this. I'd be in my own grave before they did.

“Don't ever do this to me,” Sally hissed, fire lighting up her bright blue eyes. “I won't survive seeing you torn up like this. I'll lose it, Roman, I'll –“

“That's enough.” I dug my fingers into her chin, tilting her small face to mine, giving her the most reassuring look in the whole damned world. “We're gonna beat them, babe. I don't give a shit what it costs, or how long it takes. You're gonna help this old boy back onto the farm when we're done, and he'll live to pick up where he left off.”

She bit her lip and tried to break the lock my eyes had on her, but I wouldn't let her. I didn't release her head 'til she stopped looking so panicked, sinking into my arms with a heavy sigh.

“Now, stop worrying. I'm gonna get you home and I'll hash this shit out with the club. All you gotta worry about is keeping the kid fed and happy. Nothing else.”

Later that night, I sat on the edge of the bed, long after she'd slumped into a melancholy sleep. My dick ached.

That thing between my legs was an emotionless demon. It had no goddamned context for tragedy, and didn't give a shit about anything except the fact that our week long fuckfest had been rudely interrupted.

Just watching her sleep made me want her so fucking bad. I stood up, stretched my legs, and crept into the closet for my clothes.

I was pulling on my cut when I walked into Caleb's room to check on him. The baby rolled over in his crib, awakening just enough to catch a glimpse of me. He grabbed at the wooden posts on the side, reaching one small hand through the gap.