Trusting Bull: Savage Brothers MC (64 page)

I find nothing.

“Oh fuck, Hell Cat, don’t do this to me. You’ve got to survive, to punish this S.O.B.”

I go down flat on my ass, feeling the hurt and pain seep into my system. I let another woman down; I was too late yet again. I reach out for her hand, needing to hold it… To take just a minute to tell her how sorry I am for letting her down. I pull her hand to me and yell out in denial as I see her fingers. Her beautiful hand, that I’ve felt slide over my body countless times in the last little bit is now almost as unrecognizable as her face. Her fingers have been broken and they’re swollen and distorted, bending in ways I’m not sure can ever be straightened. Then I notice she has no small finger. It has been cut right at the base of the hand. The wound is open, angry, and so infected that if she were still breathing…
Motherfucker.

I scream out in denial, as I pull her broken body over to my lap and I hold her hand in mine. She feels warm—not overly warm, but still she is not cold like death. I know because I have held death. I have seen death. I use my free hand to brush her face gently, because she’s endured so much abuse you can barely make out the distinction of her features.

“I’ll get him Hell Cat. I’ll get him and make him pay, darlin’.”

I kiss her forehead in goodbye and slide her off my lap when I hear it… It’s faint, very faint, but I latch onto it immediately.

“Zander,” her voice whispers, it is disjointed and full of pain.

“Oh fuck darlin’, you
are
hanging on. That’s my Hell Cat. I knew you had balls of steel. Let’s get you home.”

It takes me awhile, and I’m worried every fucking minute that we’re about to be discovered. But, I manage to get her loaded into my truck. Every movement causes her pain. I find myself wishing she’ll let herself sink back down into unconsciousness.

“Hang on a little longer, Hell Cat. Just a little longer and I’ll have you at the hospital.”

“No.”

It was one syllable but the terror in her hoarse whispered voice spoke volumes.

“Hell Cat.”

“Married. He’ll…please, Zander.”

Dani had never asked for anything. I didn’t even know the word please was in her vocabulary. I should concentrate on that, but I find I can’t. Instead I focus on the word that I do not like. The one word that makes me embrace anger.
Married
. My Hell Cat doesn’t know it, but she’s going to be a widow pretty fucking soon.

I call Doc and arrange to have him meet us at the club. Then I try constantly to call Dragon. Each time the call goes unanswered and I’m asked to leave a message, my gut clinches. Fuck. I hope I wasn’t too late.

My foot pressers harder on the accelerator, but inside I feel like time has run out.

Nicole

I
s it possible
to function and be dead on the inside? I never really thought about it. Right now, I am thinking about it every minute. I’m forcing myself to go through the motions, but I just want to disappear.

It has been four days. Four long days since I’ve lost Dragon. I can’t sleep, I don’t eat and most days getting dressed is just too big of a chore. I haven’t heard from Michael. I thought I would, especially after Crusher brought Dani home. Yet, there’s not been a word.

Bull has locked the club down. No one is allowed out and very few get through the gates. The families of the men have all piled in and it should be my job to make sure everyone has a bed and the kids are entertained, but I haven’t bothered. Hell, I guess technically it wouldn’t be my job now. It would be whoever Bull designates. Crusher was the VP, but apparently he is not real high with the men of the club right now. He’s also spending every waking minute with Dani.

Dani.
Shit. She’s in bad shape. I want to help her, but I can’t even help myself. Carrie and the others have been working with her. They’ll take care of her. I can’t look at Dani. Part of it is guilt, because I should have called off the wedding. A bigger part of it is anger because she brought Michael into my life and it cost me Dragon. I feel ashamed every time I think that, I know I cost Dragon his life. I should have told him from day one about Michael. I should have told him about Dani from the moment we started a relationship, but I didn’t. I didn’t call off the wedding, I didn’t warn Dragon. I didn’t do anything and I am the one who killed Dragon—even if I didn’t plant the bomb.

Will Michael leave us alone now that he’s had a small part of his revenge? I’d like to think so, but I don’t. I know he is just sitting back, biding his time until he strikes again. I should be preparing for that. I’m not.

A light knock on my door brings me out of my thoughts. I don’t make a move to respond or answer. Again, it’s just too much damn effort.

“Nic sweetheart. We need to talk about the funeral,” Carrie says and I curl tighter in the ball I’ve made of myself on the bed. I clutch my stomach. My child shouldn’t hear the word funeral. Little Dragon shouldn’t know he will be denied his father’s touch, his father’s love. It’s wrong!

Oh God, please let me wake up from this nightmare.

“Nic…”

“Get out. Oh God, just get out!”

“Nic, we can’t keep putting it off. I know you’re hurting but…,” she says walking to the foot of my bed. Seeing her doesn’t help at all. What does she know about anything? She still has her man. Her child will still get to know her Dad.

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY ROOM!”

Carrie flinches like I hit her, I can’t help it—I
do
want to hit her. I want to hit
everyone
. I want to
claw
them until I
draw blood
, I want to
scream
and
hit
them over and over until this hurt and rage inside of me disappears. I feel poisoned by it. My body feels tainted, dark and full of bitterness. So much bitterness I think I’m drowning.

“Nic…”

“Just go. Just go. Oh God. Just go…”

I keep repeating
just go
; I don’t know how many times or for how long. I don’t even realize that I’m crying. Can one person cry nonstop for days on end and not die?

“Leave us alone for a little bit, Red.”

I hear Bull’s voice, but I don’t bother opening my eyes. I want to go to sleep and dream of Dragon.

A moment later I feel the bed dip with weight and then I feel arms pulling me up. Bull adjusts me so I’m leaning my head on his chest and he brushes his fingers through my hair. I want to pretend he is Dragon, but I can’t. The
touch
is wrong, the
feelings
are wrong, the
scent
is wrong.

“You surprise me Little Mama, I thought you were made of stronger stuff.”

“I miss him…”

“I know, I do too. We all do.”

“It’s not the same,” I defend because they have no idea.

“I imagine it’s not,” he whispers and his voice breaks on the word not. I know it pains him to talk and really I think this is the longest conversation I’ve heard from him since the accident.

“I don’t think I can do this, Bull. They want me to bury him. I can’t.”

He holds me a little closer, his finger still combing through my hair and he doesn’t respond for a little bit. The room is quiet except for my crying. His heart is beating steady against my ear. Its beat is so strong and again, it reminds me of what has been taken away.

“You will do what you have to do.”

“No…I just…”

It’s then I feel him putting something over my arms. It’s heavy and warm and it smells like… my man. God, Dragon’s cut. The cut he always wore—except the one day I asked him not too. The one day that…

I cry harder. I can’t stop the sobs that break loose. I don’t know how long it goes on. I just know that Bull holds me through all of it and I’m glad. I don’t want to be alone. Eventually I stop and just an odd shudder and hiccup comes through. I’ve soaked Bull’s shirt. He doesn’t complain.

“You have to pull yourself together Little Mama, if for no other reason than that baby you are carrying.”

My hand rubs my stomach and I try to concentrate on his words.

“That baby needs a strong woman to see his way in this world. He needs someone to tell him about his Daddy and to teach him how to stand on his own two feet and become a man his Dad would have been proud of.”

“It’s not fair.”

“It’s life, Nic. It’s just life. That’s why you hold on to the good days a little harder. To make it through the bad ones.”

“I don’t think I held onto them enough.”

“Do you remember them?”

“I’ll never forget them.”

“There you go. Make sure your boy has those memories to hold on too.”

“You’ll stay with me?” I ask suddenly panicked at the thought of being alone.

“As long as you need me to,” he answers and I nod.

“I don’t want a big fu…funeral. It should be quiet here at the compound maybe,” I answer, choking on the word funeral.

“If that’s what you want. We still will have a large convoy of bikers from all our chapters surrounding our brother to the cemetery. Then come back here for drinks and memories. We usually burn the cut to send up so our fallen has a safe journey, but I figure this should be kept for the baby.”

I nod. “Can you set that up without me? I just…I can’t, Bull. I’ll try and be strong and make Dragon proud, but I just can’t right now.”

Bull kisses the top of my head and gets up, propping pillows under me.

“You got it, Little Mama. I’ll organize everything. You just rest up.”

I let him leave without responding. I’m just too tired.

Michael

I
watch as
Donald falls to the ground. It didn’t take much, two punches. Donald always was a weakling. He is however easily managed and it makes him useful.

“Mr. Kavanagh, I’m sorry. I do know how we can get Melinda back however.”

I watch as he wipes the blood from his lip.

“Do tell me Donald, what brilliance has your mind come up with. I’m so intrigued. I’m sure it is something fantastic, since you can’t even keep one prisoner in our grasp. A prisoner whom, I might add, could not even walk.”

“The bastard’s funeral. Word at the club they own is there will be a closed funeral, but the gates to the compound will be open to let all the riders out to follow the procession. They plan on riding their bikes to the cemetery. We could make our move then.”

I listen to him and think about it. As plans go it is lacking, but the gates being open…with enough firepower I could take at least one of the bitches who owe me and demand the other in trade. Besides, I think playing with Miss Nicole for a while might be fun. She’s got a lot more fire than I remembered. Women with fire are the best ones to break. I would have to cut that guttersnipe out of her first, still…that could be fun. The thought of having Nicole chained on my bed with her ass up in the air…just the image makes my dick jerk in reaction.

“We’ll need more men. See if you can manage to get your ass up and do that much. When is this funeral?”

“In two days,” Donald says, standing back up still dazed. I take satisfaction in that.

“Then get busy.”

“Yes, sir,” he states, stumbling his way out of my hotel room.

“And Donald?” I ask, just as he opens the door. By this time, I’m sitting on the sofa, staring at the television I don’t have on. I don’t watch television. I just prefer the view to that of the imbecile, Donald’s, face.

“Yes, Mr. Kavanagh?”

“Do not fail me again. You won’t get another chance. Do I make myself clear?”

“Ye..yes, sir.”

“Very well.”

The door clicks as he leaves. And I lay my head back, taking a sip of the scotch in my hand. This entire trip has been one failure after another. With the exception of Dragon West’s death. That one turned out rather well. If only I had taken out the beautiful bitch Nicole with him. Still, this way I can make her suffer in other—more enjoyable ways. So, perhaps all is not lost. She’s not exactly my taste, but she does have fire in her and I do so love to watch that crumble in a woman.

I look around the small hotel room. It’s a two room
‘suite’
, and using that word to describe it is laughable. This damn town has so little to offer. The air is starting to stagnate around me. This little safari into the Appalachian Mountains can’t end soon enough for me. How people live like this is beyond me. I pick up the phone placed on the end table beside me.

“Front Desk.” The grainy voice comes through after I dial zero.

“I need maid service, please.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll send them up right away.”

“Thank you.”

I hang up wondering what sort of specimen I will get today. Yesterday, she was nothing to look at. Still, I prefer watching a woman clean up after me more than anything else I could be doing. It takes around ten minutes and finally there’s a knock at the door.

I walk slowly. I have nothing but time and I can’t really travel freely around town. I’m sure the Savage MC knows by now who to blame for the untimely death of two of their own. Especially since one of them is their…oh wait,
was
their President.

I open the door to find a rather haggard, beat up brunette in wrinkled jeans and a faded yellow t-shirt. Not my taste on a normal day. She’s slim, though, and if I ignore the wrinkles in her face and the sunk in haunted look around her eyes, I’ll enjoy her.

“You called for a maid?” She asks and her voice is husky. Probably from a four-pack a day habit judging by the smell of her. I’ll have to bathe her. There’s no telling what I could catch from her otherwise.

“Yes, my bedroom and bath need cleaning. You may start in the bathroom.”

She takes off in the direction of the bath pulling along a cleaning cart. I tag the
Do Not Disturb
hanger on the door, close it and lock it. Why can’t maids in hotels wear the black costume? It would be so much more appealing.

“What is your name?” I ask her following her into the bath area. She jumps. Oh look, I think I scared her. She has
no
idea how scared she should be.

“K…Kayla,” she whispers turning to look at me. Upon first glance I would have imagined she was in her late thirties. Now I can see that she’s just had a rough life. She’s probably late twenties at the most.