Sexy Bastards Anthology: Bad Boy, Biker, Alpha, Motorcycle Club, Contemporary Romance Collection (69 page)

Katie checked into the hotel using her own personal Visa card, she had left the company card on her desk in her old office. She’d never used her own before and suddenly wasn’t sure if she’d activated the damn thing. The benefit of coming from money was you never needed to consider how to spend it. You just did.

Luckily, the card ran through without a problem. She booked the executive suite for the week and took her suitcases up to the room. She dropped on the edge of the king sized bed and looked around. The room had a bedroom and a kitchen area with a couch and desk to work at. She grinned. She liked it better than her penthouse suite already.

She needed to figure things out financially. Money wasn’t the issue, figuring out how to use it was. She’d come into her trust fund, left to her by her maternal grandparents, last year. It was a large amount, in the millions, but she had never really had to use it. She was paid by the corporation, and all her bills were paid automatically. She had never done her own banking, never had to deal with renting a place of her own or buy a car.

The idea frightened and thrilled her all at once.

She stood and headed back out, walking briskly. Her thoughts felt chaotic and fleeting, full of anxiety and fear. Everything would work out. She just needed to find her ground and move forward.

First though, she wanted to see Morgan.

She walked to The Orphan Pint and hesitated outside the door of the bar. Morgan had been ticked on the phone and she couldn’t blame him for being angry. Would he even listen to her? She took a long shaky breath. This was risky. She wanted to see him and to explain things but what if he didn’t want to speak to her, or worse, what if he had her tossed out of the bar right on her ass?

It might be better to wait. To walk away while her heart was still just bruised instead of broken. Maybe he’d call her in a couple days.

While she stood outside the bar, her indecision was broken by the rumbling sound of motorcycles pulling up. A rough looking bunch of leather jackets, long beards and simply different class than she was used to, pulled into the lot. The hard-set lines on their mouths warned her they weren’t friendly. She watched as they began to park behind the bikes already sitting in the lot, blocking them in.

Surely the people who’d already parked their bikes there would want to get out…

Unless they didn’t want them to get out.

A cold shiver ran up her back, making the hair on the back of her neck rise. Fear settled in, a cool and pulsing dread that turned her limbs to water. She saw one man, a tall guy with red hair frizzing up all over his wild head, climb off his bike. It said OutKasts on the back of his jacket. She read it as he bent over his bike to grab something from the other side. A shotgun.

Shit!
Terror spiked through her and she grabbed the handle of the door, swung it wide and ran inside, yanking it closed behind her. The men in the place looked up instantly at her and she stared around. None of these were men from her father’s company, these were rough men, maybe even rougher than the ones outside.

She cleared her throat. “There’re guys out there,” she panted as she tried to speak clearly. “They have weapons and—”

A shotgun blast peppered the thick metal of the door. Katie screamed and ran for the bar, her ass hitting the wooden top hard as she jumped to get over to the other side of it.

“What the hell?!” someone yelled.

Katie looked around wildly as another blast to the door punched the metal outward. She hid low behind the bar. Her throat closed then opened as scream after scream tried to rise but nothing came out of her mouth.

Where was Morgan? What the hell was happening?

The doors burst open. OutKasts poured inside. Katie could see everything from where she sat on the ground, the bar giving her no protection. She looked to the side and gasped.

Morgan stepped out of a door near the back just as men began pulling guns out all around her and firing. The stink of the gunpowder, and the deafening crashes of sound propelled her forward. She scrambled on the floor and up as she ran as fast as she could—right into Morgan, her body colliding with his. They both fell to the floor. “Stay down!” Her scream was high and thin. “They’re shooting people!”

His arms encircled around her. He rolled them across the floor. His scent filled her nose and his broad chest cradled her close. He rolled them into his office and pushed her against the desk, his body sheltering hers as more gunfire erupted behind them.

“What the hell are you doing here?” His voice, right in her ear, cleared her head.

“I came to talk to you.” More gunfire. She heard screams and she flinched, burying tight against his chest.

“You have lousy timing.”

He was actually laughing! His chest shook as he chuckled. If she wasn’t so freakin’ scared for her life, she’d have hit him and then kissed him.

“I need my gun. I have to get out there. You. You stay here.”

Then he was gone.

Katie crawled along the floor, her hands and knees meeting broken glass and ruined carpet. Morgan grabbed several guns from behind the desk and headed out of the door shooting. He slammed the door behind him.

Katie caught her breath. Her father had forced her to take target training, saying she might need it one day because she was a Wilkes. She wouldn’t admit it to him at the time, but she’d enjoyed holding and aiming a gun and as she trained she earned several sharpshooting awards.

She spotted a rifle still sitting in the gun cabinet behind the desk and grabbed it. Without a second thought, she loaded it and took the box of shells with her as she dashed back into the bar.

Morgan was walking toward the fray, not even ducking and her heart raced. He was either the craziest man to ever live or the bravest. A man with an OutKast jacket on raised his gun, the barrel pointed towards Morgan. He didn’t notice the guy taking aim, he was too busy shooting at someone else.

Her heart slammed hard into her ribs. She’d shot targets and game, never people.

But today seemed to be a day for doing things she had never done before.

Her finger found the trigger and pulled. The man who’d been aiming at Morgan let out a loud yell as the gun that had been in his hand flew out of it.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out this had something to do with a gang war. Club war, she corrected herself as she connected the dots. Morgan wore on Orphans patch. The Orphan Pint was a motorcycle club bar. The Orphans. The OutKasts.

The gunfire slowed as bullets ran low. Most of the men were locked in physical combat.
Beatin’ the shit out of each other more like.
Katie hugged the rifle tight against her and darted behind the huge bar, aiming at a man who was shooting at everything and everyone, loading his double-barreled shotgun with practiced ease.

She grit her teeth and considered her options. He was a big guy, and she knew she would have to hit him in a way that debilitated him but didn’t kill him. The asshole wasn’t discriminating at what he was aiming at. He shot up a row of bottles and several tables as she watched and reloaded her gun with shaky fingers. The dummy was obviously interested in shooting, and nothing more.

Taking careful aim she shot, right in the left cheek of his large bottom, hoping that would be enough to make him stop shooting.

As she fired that bullet it came to her how ridiculous the whole situation was—she was involved in a gunfight! How the hell had her day turned so drastically from just another boring day of a prescribed life to being a participant in a gang war?

Club war
she corrected herself again.

Morgan was fending off two men who both looked like they boxed professionally. Morgan managed to hit one guy enough to make him stumble back. The other OutKast seemed to be waiting for that moment and threw a left hook to Morgan’s jaw.

Katie sprinted into the fray, raising the rifle high over her head. She brought the butt down hard on the skull of the man and he dropped to the floor with a loud grunt and didn’t move. She stared at him. “Is he dead?”

Morgan gave the man’s prone body a kick. He moaned. Morgan shook his head. “You’d have to do a lot more to Nate to kill him.” He grinned as his chest heaved. “Thanks for having my back.” Then he swept her into his arms and kissed her.

That kiss was fierce and passionate and she melted against him. His body pressed against hers and she felt the telltale hardness at his crotch pressing against her belly. He was turned on from the fight? What the hell was she getting herself into?

Someone yelled, “Cry off!”

The bar quieted, until someone grunted and cried out, “The fuckin’ bitch shot me in the ass!”

Morgan stiffened and turned slowly. “Don’t call her a bitch.”

The fighting stopped and men inside the bar began to stand and gather themselves together. The two clubs faced each other. They all had injuries, but besides the big guy, no one had been shot. It was crazy.

Nate stirred, slowly got to his feet and muttered in a groggy voice, “That was dirty, Morgan.”

“I didn’t know she would sucker punch you Nate.” Morgan smirked.

Katie shrank back from Nate’s glare. Morgan knew him? “Sorry,” she offered lamely.

Nate chuckled. “She’s a keeper. You don’t want her, I’ll take her.”

Morgan put his arm over Katie’s shoulder and pulled her tight. “Not going to happen, Nate.”

Nate shrugged and touched his head, looking for blood. He winced at the bump but when he saw no red on his hands, he straightened and glared at Morgan. “Where the fuck’s my money?”

“We’re working on it. Just like I told you,” Morgan said evenly and then crossed his arms over his chest, no hint of fear in his eyes. “Now, I’d like to know what the hell happened to the dudes who took it off Craig.”

Nate didn’t blink. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

Morgan held his ground. “Someone killed them. All of them. We rode in to get your shit back, and they were all street grease. The news has been covering the story, surely you saw it.”

Nate rubbed his head. “I assumed your crew did that.”

Katie looked between the two men, back and forth. Terror had taken over again and her limbs shook fiercely. Morgan pulled her closer to his body. Murder? Money? What had she gotten herself into?

Morgan said, “No. You guys did it.”

Nate shook his head and started laughing. “We might be fighting each other for no fucking reason.”

The sound of sirens shouted in the background. The men burst into movement. Chairs were righted, the front door thrown open and shattered bottles tossed into trash cans. Instant clean up. Katie had never seen a group of men move that fast in unison. Both clubs worked to hide the damage. Even Jack, the barman worked with some OutKast to clean behind the bar with a broom while the other fixed the shelf and restocked it. Those with blood on them ran for the back end of the bar where it was darkest. A few women, who’d been hiding behind the bar and Katie hadn’t even noticed, began to run around scooping up shell casings off the floor.

Morgan took the rifle from her and tossed it to Jack, who hid it below the counter. Morgan grabbed her by the arm and hauled her to the bar too, and then plopped her down on a chair. “Jack, whiskey.”

Two tall glasses appeared. The music was turned back on. Morgan ordered her, “Drink.”

“Can I have a twist of lemon?”

He chuckled. The door opened and a whole bevy of cops swarmed into the place, their guns and shields drawn. The men pretending to play pool looked up and then went back to their game.

Two cops walked right up to Morgan.

Katie took a long swallow of her whiskey, grateful for the warmth it spread through her body.

A cop snapped, “We got a report of gunfire.”

Morgan shrugged. “Some asshat decided to set off a handful of firecrackers as a prank. Sorry about that fellas.” He looked around. “Who called it in?”

The other cop stared at Katie. His eyes narrowed. “Miss Wilkes? What are you doing here?” His gaze moved quickly to Morgan and then back to her. “You here on your own choice?”

She felt the weight of Morgan’s gaze. She lifted her glass and said, calmly, “Having a drink. Is that against the law?”

He blinked. “I…several of us… work as security detail for your father from time to time. No offense, Miss Wilkes, but this is hardly the place for you.”

“Did my father send you?” She pressed her lips, knowing that would make the man hesitate. “I believe I can handle myself, officer.” Outwardly she was calm. Inwardly she was anything but. She had just been ratted out and by a damn cop! There had just been a freakin’ gun fight, where she was responsible for shooting someone in the ass! She stifled a giggle. Could things get any crazier?

Morgan swept the room with his arm and gestured around. Ironically, none of the cops were searching the place. “There’s nothing to see here boys. We appreciate your concern. Why don’t you move along?”

“I’m talking to the lady, Miss Wilkes. Not you, Orphan.”

Katie glanced at Morgan, worried he might get up and slug the policeman. “I’m fine. Like I said.”