Never Love an Outlaw: Deadly Pistols MC Romance (Outlaw Love) (54 page)

Brass groaned, gently pushed me off, and reached down. I saw his face tighten when he flicked the screen on.

“Yeah?”

“We got a serious fucking problem, son.” I overheard Blackjack's gravelly voice on the other line. “The first copies of that tape just hit the other charters today. The mole we've still got in the clubhouse says Fang's mad as hell. He's swearing up and down he didn't kill the guy, promising the other clubs he's gonna get a confession out of whoever did.”

Brass gave me a dark look and pulled the phone away from me, hoping I wouldn't hear. He got up and stepped into the hall. I strained to listen.

“Yeah? What fucking leverage has he got? Sounds like the damned thing did exactly what we hoped for.”

I couldn't hear what Blackjack said. I reached for the heap of my clothes on the ground, pulling on my panties and a long t-shirt. I stepped up to the door frame and waited, hoping he wouldn't notice I was right behind him.

“Okay, whatever,” Brass said. “Send it my way. Better I see this shit for myself...”

There was a long pause. The call ended. Then his phone dinged again, and he tapped the screen to bring up a video.

The short redhead on his screen was beaten bloody. Her eyes were swollen shut, and she jumped each time the demon's hands moved behind her, his fingers flexing rough on her shoulders before he leaned down and showed his monstrous face.

It can't be. Jesus. No.

My face wanted to fall to the ground, but my eyes were glued to the sideshow on Brass' phone. I knew her. It was Jackie's tutor, Christa, and she'd been left behind while we fought our way out.

“You fucking rats are too cowardly to fight man-to-man, face-to-face,” Fang rumbled through the glowing glass. “Now, you see what happens.” He bared his teeth in a sick, angry smile.

“I'm gonna give you seventy-two hours to show yourselves at the clubhouse and bring every copy of that bullshit you sent far and wide. You'll admit that fucking abortion was a forgery on tape, and then we'll see what happens. I'm done making any promises about anyone's safety except hers.”

His fingers tightened on the woman's shoulders. “This bitch dies piece by fucking piece if you don't show yourselves. I know the Prairie Pussies are in on this. They're gonna get the first hand I lop off in the mail, assuming I don't start with these pretty tits first.”

He grabbed her breasts and squeezed. Hard. Painful. Christa jerked in his arms, but she was too bad off to fight. He'd broken her resistance awhile ago – maybe days.

Tears burned my eyes. My heart crashed against my ribs like a hummingbird trying to beat its way out of my chest.

“Seventy-two hours, assholes, 'til I carve my first piece. Then it'll be every fucking hour you cocksuckers don't show. Not a minute more. Don't disappoint me. I didn't claw my way to the top of this goddamned club passing out mercy. Looks like some people have forgotten that lately, and they're about to find out I'll do everything in my power to hang onto what's mine. Don't underestimate anything.”

The screen went dead. Brass' arms trembled, and for a second I thought he was going to hurl the phone down the staircase next to him, smash it into a million pieces the same way my heart was splitting apart.

I couldn't hold in the anguished squeal. He spun, tucking the cell back into his pocket. He was on me in an instant, had me pressed snug against the wall.

“Jesus, Brass. If only I'd known! I didn't know he had her...thought they just knocked her out when they got Jackie. I thought they left her there. We can't let him do –“

“Babe, I need you to get a grip right fucking now. If you have a stroke or a heart attack right here over this, there's no way I'm gonna be able to get her out. I'll be too busy saving your sweet ass to deal with hers.”

I wanted to wipe away the hot tears sliding down my cheeks, but Brass' big arms blocked the way.

“Can you?” I shot him a skeptical look, and it hurt to doubt him. “I mean, can you save her without killing or hurting yourself or any of your guys?”

His lips twitched. “Yes. Have some faith, babe. There's no fucking way I'm gonna let him spill more innocent blood. Not when it's all for clinging to power and fucking up my club.”

His fingers tightened on my arm. Hard. I let out a whimper.

“Shit. I'm sorry.” He ripped himself away and stepped back. “Go back to bed, Missy. I gotta grab my clothes and go. Blaze and his crew need to be in on this. They'll help me figure out the logistics...”

I slumped against the wall. My knees wouldn't work, and I kept sliding down, down, toppled by a dark gravity, slowly losing my mind.

That terrible fog that chewed at my brain while I was bound, watching Serial menace Jackie, returned. I shook my head, fighting it.

Brass gave me a look on his way out like he wanted so bad to stay, to help me up. But he was right – viciously right. I couldn't hold him back. Every second he spent dealing with me was one more second of this poor woman's life melting away, bringing her closer to the gruesome end. Everything the demented bastard promised.

I listened to my man's boots thud down the stairs, and then he was out the door. His truck started a second later, and he gunned it, pulling out of the rocky driveway.

It was like taking a huge splash of glacial water in the face. Or maybe it was pure acid.

I barely knew Christa, but she was innocent. Irony surfaced, raking her cruel nails across my face.

Jesus, dad's desperate mistakes had gotten us dragged into all this, and I'd dragged Jackie in because I'd been too stupid to throw the cash away and run for the hills.

Now, my blackness had spread, eating someone else alive. If it wasn't for dad's sins, we'd have never gotten ourselves captured. I'd never have dragged in Brass and sunken deeper than anything I imagined. My sister wouldn't have needed a tutor, and the girl wouldn't have wound up stuck in this insane biker war.

My temples throbbed. It was hard to stand up, but I managed. I dressed quickly, listening as a vehicle growled into the driveway.

I tensed up, thinking maybe it was Brass. But Jackie and Saffron's laughter at some joke as they came through the door told me otherwise. They'd gotten home just in time. I washed my face in the bathroom across the hall. Must've waited in the darkness for a good half hour before anyone came up to check on me.

“Missy? I've got some chili going downstairs if you're ready to eat.” Saffron paused. “Where the hell's my brother?”

I got up and walked toward her, refusing to turn on the light. I couldn't let her see the crazy turmoil scrawled on my face.

“I need to borrow your car.”

“Huh? We just got back. But I guess if there's something you need in town, I'd be happy to drive you –“

“No!” It came out like a bullet. Sharp. Forceful. “I
need
to borrow it. There's shit going on with the club...with Brass...I promise I'll get it back to you in one piece. Help me.”

I sounded like a lunatic. Damn, what was one more lie on top of everything else I'd told myself to stay sane during all this?

“Lady, you'd better take a big deep breath and tell me what the fuck is going on before I call up Blaze and find out.” It was the first time I'd heard her angry, and she definitely had the fire in her voice that told me she'd been through some crap.

Still, it didn't soften me one bit. “If I say anything else, you won't even think about handing me the keys. Look, I'm going to find myself a ride one way or another...but I'd prefer to have something reliable to get me where I'm going. Preferably a loaner from somebody I can trust to keep their mouth shut.”

Saffron reached for my hand and I spun her around. We were both about the same size, but I was way more worked up. She hit the bed with a muffed yelp. Annoyance foamed in her throat as she struggled up on her knees and looked at me.

“This is insane. I'm calling –“

“Don't.” We locked eyes in the darkness, and I refused to let go, no matter what she did next. “If you call him, all hell's going to break loose, and I'll never save her in time. Brass can't do it. Neither can the Devils. They talk too much. They're too slow.”

Saffron shook her head, frustrated. “Save
who?
”

“Is Jackie taking a shower?” I asked.

Saffron nodded, just as confused as I expected.

Good. You don't have to make a scene and upset Jackie. You've got to go. Now.

“Take care of her for me,” I said. “I know I can count on you to do that. One day, I'll find some way to repay it.”

I couldn't ignore the shrill voice in my head. I took off and slammed the bedroom door shut behind me, flying down the stairs, leveraging surprise as much as I could.

It worked. Saffron was only halfway down the staircase, screaming after me, when I pulled her purse off the kitchen table. Crap spilled out all over on my way out to her SUV, and I had the keys in my hand just in time.

I popped the door and slid in. There was no time for my seat belt. The vehicle started quick, smooth, and I was backing out as she ran after me. I felt bad watching her pound the hood. She got off one beat, and I kept going. I didn't stop, tearing toward the road through the mountains, leading to the main highway.

My hands went numb gripping the wheel. I didn't relax until I was all the way through town, constantly checking my mirrors for trucks and motorcycles behind me, trying to close in and stop what I had to do.

When Brass and the Devils found out, they'd be furious. Just one more consequence I had to face. Nobody ever said doing the right thing was easy.

This time, it was going to be an absolute bitch.

I drove all night, heading toward Redding, following the dark cold highways as best as I could. I'd never driven this kind of distance. Adrenaline, anxiety, and guilt rode with me.

The sickness swirling in my blood wouldn't let me break. Not until I ran my tank down and had to get gas. I stopped when I needed to for snacks and fuel, refusing to linger a second too long.

For all I knew, Brass and the others were hot on my trail right now. I'd pissed off my old man and probably the Devils too by hijacking Saffron's vehicle. I wasn't sure what was worse.

It didn't really matter. It all paled next to the greater calamity, letting Fang follow through on his savage promises and tear her to ribbons. Christa seemed like such a sweet, soft spoken woman. I couldn't let her suffer like this. I couldn't let her die screaming because of
me.

I believed Brass would try his damnedest to get her out. Maybe I'd get lucky and Fang would be dead by the time I got into town, the teacher with the dark red hair freed by Blackjack and his men. Maybe.

But I couldn't depend on it. I couldn't depend on anything except showing up and throwing myself at Satan's mercy, hoping he'd let her go – or at least spare her – by taking revenge on a bitch he had good reason to hate.

It wasn't all about freeing Christa either. I swore I'd keep lying, anything to buy time. I'd promise him the video and the entire fucking moon if it helped lead him one step closer to the grave Brass was digging.

The journey was long, and I got lost several times, losing a couple hours. If I ever got out of this, I swore I'd learn to drive like nobody's business. Maybe I'd even figure out how to ride a Harley without being strapped to my old man on the back.

My old man.
It hurt to think about him. I'd stabbed him in the back and heaped more chaos on his life, and I seriously wondered if he'd want me if I got out of this alive.

No. You can't think about that.

I nodded, agreeing with the only comfort I had in my head. I had to stay focused. I had to put emotion aside, even if I was screaming down the road like a crazy girl, throwing myself to hell on a whim.

I crossed three states I'd never been to before the trip up. My eyes felt like they were going to fall out by the time the sun came up. But I kept going, crazed and determined to show my face in Redding, to face the consequences.

Someone had to pay for all this. And since daddy was gone, it had to be me.

I was ready to pay the very high price. Anything for a chance at keeping her safe. No one else needed to die for my father's mistakes. If there was suffering, then it was earmarked for me. I'd see myself crucified before Christa or my poor sweet sister.

It was almost noon when I finally got into town. My body got a second wind as I drove toward the clubhouse on the outskirts, ready to floor it at any sign of cops or bikers.

Nothing was going to stop me from seeing the demon face to face. Nothing.

The place certainly didn't look like a war zone when I pulled up. It was just like I remembered. A hard faced man with Grizzlies patches came wandering up to the gate. It was Crack, the foul tempered VP, with two other greasy long haired men behind him.

I got out and stepped up to the gate, leaving the vehicle running.

His gun was out and pointed at me before I said a word. “What the fuck are you doing here, bitch?”

“I need to see Fang. It's about the video that's hurting your Prez, and the woman you dickheads are holding against her will.”

Crack's fat nose twitched, his nostrils flaring. He nodded to the two big men next to him.

“Open the fucking gate. Pat her ass down before she goes inside.” He looked at the SUV behind me. “Somebody get that fucking thing in here too. We can use another rig after losing two to the cartel last week...”

I'm sorry, Saffron,
I whispered in my head.

The thick iron bars slid open. Rough hands grabbed me and forced me behind the gate. They threw me to the wall and slid over me, rugged and unwelcome, taking much longer than they really needed to feel for weapons in my pockets.

I didn't have any, of course.

No, they were enjoying this.

I'd tucked my wallet into my jeans at the last stop for gas. Had to hold my breath when the mean looking man pulled it out and bent it in half. One wrong angle, and they'd find what I had there for Plan B, in case Fang didn't want to cooperate and free the redhead.

I held my breath as his hands passed over it. He missed. Bastard was too busy feeling my ass instead.