Soul Ties (Club Ties #4) (19 page)

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“Connall.” Jamison’s call drew him up short as he crossed the parking lot to his bike.

He turned and made his way back to the prez and Ace, who together meant business. He gave a chin-nod to them. “What’s up?”

This might be about Sarah. Or more Viagra, though he didn’t think so. Ace had led Belle into the club last night, and she’d been wearing his helmet.

“We won’t keep you long. We heard your beeper go off,” Jamison said.

“Yeah. They’re prepping the OR now.”

Ace scuffed his knuckles over his jaw. “We need you, West.”

“I’m listening.”

“We’ve run across a problem. The feds intercepted one of our booze shipments, and we’re short on funds this month.”

“You need a check? Just let me know how much.”

“No, we don’t want your money, Doc. We want your fists.”

A chuckle escaped him and he eyed his brothers. “When?”

“Tomorrow night.”

“Who?”

“Jason.”

Connall didn’t know the guy, but he was legend among the brothers.

“He’s the biggest, baddest motherfucker you can fight, and he’s wrecked plenty of pretty faces,” Ace said almost joyfully.

“Are you trying to wipe out your competition by messing up my looks?” Connall drawled.

The guys laughed. Jamison sobered first. “No, but we need the funds and you can give him a good run. You weren’t your best the other night, but we think you can beat him.”

“Just bring the plaster, Doc.” Ace wagged a finger at him before turning for the club door again.

Jamison hung back and Connall waited for the other boot to drop. Once Ace disappeared inside, Jamison took out a cigarette and lit it.

“I’ve got to get to the hospital. Just say it.”

“Has Rocket disappeared yet?”

“Yeah, he left my house a few hours after I treated him.”

Jamison bobbed his head and blew smoke off to the side. “And you found Sarah.”

“You know I did. She was with Ever this morning.”

“Yeah.”

“What the fuck are you getting at?” Normally he wouldn’t take such a tone with the prez, but he didn’t have time for this shit. And he wasn’t going to analyze it.

“We think we know where O’Dovey’s at,” Jamison said quietly, as if Sarah could overhear.

Ice froze Connall’s heart but he concealed his reaction to hearing the man’s name. If he could kill him a second time, he would, dammit.

“Yeah? What have you heard?”

“That he was taken off the street and the Raiders are holding him.”

Ah. So Connall’s ear worm had grown. As with a child’s game, one person had told the next and pretty soon details were added. Except this wasn’t what he’d hoped for. If the club went to war with the Raiders over O’Dovey, things would turn ugly. Lethal, in fact.

And the Falcons were still in town, awaiting Connall’s answer.

He waved his hand in dismissal. “Nah. The Raiders would be rubbing it in our faces if that were the case.”

“Not if they’re holding him for a bigger reason. They could be waiting for something.”

“Look, I don’t know the guys personally, but they aren’t stupid enough to kidnap a Son and start a war. They’d just kill him. I think he ran off.”

“He was a good one. He’d never do that.”

“Someone besides the Raiders could have taken him.”

“Like the Russians?”

The Russian mafia was growing bigger in Heller’s Gap, despite the Hell’s Sons’ efforts to wipe them out. They still wanted a piece of their gambling ring, and they weren’t giving up until they had a stranglehold on the operation.

“Maybe. Hey, I’ve gotta run.”

“Yeah. Go.”

“Keep me posted on the Russians and O’Dovey.”

“Will do.”

They locked hands and man-hugged. Then Connall got on his bike. All the way to the hospital, his mind whirred. He needed to throw the guys off again, plant another rumor because his first one had backfired. Fighting a war over one fucking controlling, rapist asshole? Connall wouldn’t let it happen. If it came down to it, he’d confess to killing the man.

But he wasn’t that stupid. Yet. He’d lose his life for taking a brother’s. If it meant protecting Sarah, he could, and gladly. But he wasn’t giving up any information right now.

Sarah.
Finding her had been one of the brightest spots in his entire life. He’d taken her twice in the parking lot before dragging her back to his bed. There, he’d loved her for most of the day. Kissing, licking, running his hands all over her.

He’d spanked her again for running away. And she’d taken it beautifully. Afterward, she’d laid in the ring of his arms, exorcised of her demons at last. He’d stared at her peaceful face until he’d had to go in for a short shift at the hospital. But knowing he’d given her ease had kept him semi-hard ever since. Having that power over her was headier than wielding a scalpel.

He’d take care of her. He’d failed with Lorraine, but for some reason the gods were giving him a second chance. One he didn’t deserve.

The yard was littered with bikers. Some clothed, most not. One was still steadily drinking whiskey and muttering to himself.

Sarah picked her way through the limbs scattered across the grass and made her way to the back door leading to the kitchen. Watching the people she loved abuse themselves so much disgusted her.

“Sweetheart.” One of the old ladies skimmed her forearm as she passed.

Sarah whirled, glaring. “I’m going to bed.”

“What about the mess?”

“Make them clean it.” She waved in the direction of two Sons passed out leaning on each other. As she looked on, one roused from his stupor, leaned to the side, and vomited.

Thank God Connall wasn’t here—she didn’t want to ever picture him in a scene like this. When she went into the club, the jukebox was silent, conjuring thoughts of Rocket. The quiet irritated, and she stomped into the main room. Balling her fist, she punched the on button. Then she turned.

“Bones,” she said, hand flying to her chest.

He was drunk, bleary-eyed.

And his hard-on snaked down his inner thigh.

He came at her. O’Dovey’s face morphed onto Bones’ body, and she stumbled back. Her side struck the pool table, but she swallowed her cry. Frozen, she watched him close the gap between them.

As he encircled her wrist with his big, vise-like hand, she couldn’t even fight back. All of her bravery had been used plunging a knife into O’Dovey.

“Sarah.” Bones was a lifer. He’d cut his teeth on his father’s leather. He was a club kid, just like she was. And he knew how to take what he wanted too.

“Bones. Stop. You need to sleep it off, hon.”

He shook his head and his whole body swayed. Fear clutched her heart. What was going on? She’d been safe here her entire life. Now she was accosted at every turn.

She gauged the distance to the door.

“I always wanted you, Sarah. But fucking O’Dovey had a collar on you.”

“I don’t belong to him.”

“You do look lonely.”

“No.” She threw out a hand. “I’m fine. Please go sleep it off, Bones.” Her throat clogged with desperation.

Bones kept coming. When he caught her around the middle, she cried out. Taking advantage of her open mouth, he plunged his tongue between her lips. She screamed, gagged on the taste of beer.

“Get the fuck off her!” The roar shook her to the marrow of her bones. Boots flashed in her line of sight—boots she’d neatly placed under the bed countless times in the past few weeks.

Bones was ripped off her.

The meaty, sickening noise of fists battering flesh sounded. She dragged herself out of the way just as two huge bodies hit the floor. Only grunts and blows filled her hearing. She stared at the guys, unable to detect which body part belonged to whom.

Bones’ head lolled to the side as Connall’s fist rocked it. Five more harsh blows. He was going to kill Bones after saving him weeks ago. She cried, “Stop it!”

Connall raised his head to pierce her with his glare. Five seconds later, he saw her—really saw her. When he got to his feet, tendons standing out on his forearms and throat, she held out a hand to him.

“Oh God, Sweetheart.” He yanked her to her feet and into his embrace. His lips landed on the top of her head, and he smelled of sweat and fury.

“Connall.” She hooked an arm around his neck and clung until her knees stopped feeling as if they’d go out from under her.

His eyes burned as he lowered his head and claimed her mouth. She whimpered. Passion bubbled over. With each glide of his tongue, he destroyed her. Ripped her guts out.

He couldn’t stay with her—he wouldn’t. This was sex.

“Take me. Make me feel only you,” she whispered.

He yanked her against his full length, letting her feel inches and inches of hard steel. She angled her head to deepen the kiss, and—

His phone buzzed. They shared a quiet moan.

“Don’t take it,” she said.

“I have to. I’m the only one on call. Before he could reach into his back pocket, a voice interrupted.

“Hey Doc. I’ve been looking for you.” Ace stood in the doorway, a knowing expression on his face as he glanced between Sarah, Connall, and Bones unconscious on the floor. “What the fuck happened?”

“The fuckwit passed out.”

Ace lifted a dark brow. “That so?”

“Party musta been too much for him.”

“He’s bleeding.”

Connall gave a nod of interest. “And if he ever tries to touch Sarah again, I’ll send him on vacation to a dark place six feet under.”

What had happened to the club she knew? These men protected women and children. She was their own. All this time, had they seen her as a hole to fuck? In a sick, fucked-up way, O’Dovey had actually protected her. His alpha dog act had kept the other Sons at bay.

“We’re ready to ride out.” Ace’s s tone jerked her around.

“What?” Sarah burst out.

“Fucking cum-wad Raiders have O’Dovey. We put a stop to it. Tonight.”

“No.” She reached toward Ace. “How do you know?” Faintly, she realized how she sounded—frightened for O’Dovey. Her shock could be construed as worry. Inside she was dying.

“They’ve got him. We’ll get him back.” He clamped his lips as if biting off the second part of that statement—
if he’s alive.

In desperation, she grabbed Connall’s sleeve. His knuckles were bleeding and he flexed his hand as he leaned over her. Their breath mingled, and he pressed his forehead against hers.

Ace walked out of the room, leaving them alone.

“I have to stop this. I’m going to tell.” Her words scorched her throat.

“Like hell. Sweetheart, let me handle it.”

“If they ride on the Raiders, someone will be hurt or killed. I have to stop it!”

He cradled her face in his hands. “You’re going to trust me, Sarah. Hear me?”

She blinked up at him through scalding tears. “If someone is hurt because of what I did…”

“It won’t happen. Now you’re going to do as I say. Or I will bend you over and fuck your ass so hard you don’t sit down for a week. Got it?”

Her breathing hitched. Though his threat sounded almost hot, she took it as it was meant. His intense spanking had left an impression on her, and there was no doubt in her mind he’d do as promised.

Actually, she hoped he did. With a promise like that, defying him would be worth it.

He released her face and took a step back without removing his gaze from her. “Stay here and don’t get in the way.”

An intense desire to go against him made her chest too small to contain her thumping heart. This mission was a death warrant for the guys.

As he turned, presented her with the broad back that she’d scored countless times with her nails, her mind snapped a photograph. A moment in time, frozen.

At the door, he swung back. Caught her gaze and held it. He stormed back to her, big legs eating up the space, the ferocity in his gaze finally making her knees give way.

He pulled her on tiptoe. “We’re in this together for now. As soon as I get you out, you have to promise to get away from me.”

“Because you’re no good.” She nuzzled him, temptation so close.

“That’s right.” He slammed his lips over hers and swiped his tongue through her mouth once.

Then he released her and was gone.

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When shit went south, it plummeted all the way to hell. Connall threw himself behind the wheel of the van. As bodies piled in and doors banged shut, he twisted the key and punched the gas.

Tires squealed, and Ace released a whoop. “We set them straight.”

Goddammit.
Connall set his back molars together and gunned it.

“How long till retaliation?” he heard himself ask, but he already knew the answer. They were going to have to place the club on lockdown thanks to the trigger-happy dickheads who’d run into the Raiders’ club and demanded their brother be released. A massive fight had broken out, and there wasn’t one piece of furniture in there that wasn’t smashed. Several needed hospital care. Hell, one might need life support, but Connall had run about before he could check.

Jesus fucking Christ.
He’d live and die for the Hell’s Sons, but they were wrong.

And it was his fault.

More blood on my hands.

“Doc, how bad is this?” Wrench asked from the passenger’s seat, probing the thick gouge along his cheek with a thick finger.

“Don’t fucking touch it. I’ll take care of it when we get to the club.”

The club. He needed to call and have Sarah prepping for a standoff. He yanked his phone from his pocket. So much for the poor bastard who’d gone into the OR. Connall hadn’t shown up or even called for backup. He’d abandoned his duties to go on a fucking raid.

Sarah picked up on the fourth ring. “What the fuck took you so long?” he snapped.

“I was in a bubble bath.”

Dammit, now he had images of her golden skin coated in bubbles in his goddamned mind.

“Call everyone. All the women and children need to get to the club. We’re locking down.” He didn’t know where the fuck the club prez was, but he wasn’t in their van, and somebody had to make some decisions. Jamison would want this.

“Oh God. Connall, what did you do?”