Fury (12 page)

His
coarse language sent her arousal higher, and she didn’t even hesitate to do
what he said. She felt weak with need, and Angelina wanted to please him,
wanted to do anything he said, because that pleased her, as well. This really
was what she wanted.
Fury
was what
she wanted. Angelina knew being with him, even in this manner where he didn’t
sugarcoat anything, where he didn’t apologize for who he was, was exactly what
she wanted and needed in her life.

Chapter
Seventeen

Fury
hadn’t been able to sleep. He’d had his head between his woman’s thighs until
she’d come three times, and only after Angelina begged for his cock did he
surrender and give it to her. But he hadn’t fucked her. No, he’d made love to
her, thrust in and out of her slowly while staring in her eyes, telling her
that they could be fucked up together in this screwed up world.

What in the hell is happening to
me?

He
scrubbed a hand over his face and breathed out, looking out the window as the
sun just started to peek over the tree line. The club had contacted them last
night, letting them know they were coming up, and a lot of shit needed to be
put on the table. Fury knew he’d fucked up, that going behind the MC’s back was
wrong on every level, but he hadn’t been thinking clearly. He’d wanted his club
protected, and he was willing to go to any lengths to ensure that.

Looking
over his shoulder at Angelina, his chest ached something fierce as he stared at
her. Today there was going to be a lot of explaining on his part to the rest of
the club, but also they were going to have to come up with a plan to get to
Sal. They had a starting point, which was the cabin Angelina mentioned, but
from this point on he didn’t want her part of this. He’d already tainted her
with his issues and the fact he’d brought her in on this, but no more.

Fury
didn’t care that they’d just met, or that the circumstance as to why she was
here was less than honorable. He wanted her, wanted to protect her and be with
her, and he’d make sure that happened without the repercussions of her getting
even deeper into this than he’d already gotten her. But he also didn’t want her
father’s blood on her hands, and if she were there, witnessing what he wanted
to do to Sal, then he knew that would forever scar her, no matter what she
said.

“What
time is it?” she asked in a sleepy voice.

“Early,
baby.”

She
rolled over so she was facing him, her eyes open but sleep-filled. Fury got up
and dressed, and then leaned down and kissed her on the forehead.

“You
can sleep longer.”

“The
club will be here soon.”

He
nodded. Yeah, and as much as he wanted to keep her away from this, which was
pretty fucking twisted given the fact he was the one to bring her into it in
the first place, the MC would want her there, as well. What Fury had done to
her was despicable, and the Bleeding Mayhem sure as fuck didn’t do this kind of
shit to women.

“I
don’t think I can go back to sleep anyway,” she said and sat up, the sheet
falling away from her naked body. Fury couldn’t help but stare at how beautiful
she was. Her long dark hair was tussled from sleep and the fact he’d made love
to her. Yeah, Fury had made love to her, and he wanted to do it every night and
then hold her close as she slept.

“You’re
so fucking gorgeous.”

Angelina
smiled and pushed a stray piece of hair away from her face.

“Fury,
get the fuck out here.” Birdie’s voice was hard, and Fury went right to
attention.

“Get
dressed and come out, baby.”

She
nodded and was off the bed in seconds. Fury shut the bedroom door behind him
and stared at Birdie and Stone.

“What?”
he asked, his blood pumping hard, adrenaline already coursing through his
veins.

Birdie
tipped his chin toward the kitchen, and Fury glanced over, his heart stalling
for a second before it started beating harder and stronger than before. There,
standing in the center of the kitchen was Sal Cardona flanked by four men. Guns
were trained on the three of them, and another man, who held a woman in front
of him with a knife to her neck, stood off to the side.

Sal
took a weak step closer, and Fury looked down at the cast on his leg. He had
one of those boots on to allow him to walk on it, but didn’t have any crutches.
Good, they’d hurt the fucker. He deserved so much more, though. Sal’s men
didn’t move with him, but kept their guns at the ready.

“So,
you’re the one that took my daughter,” Sal said, not phrasing it like a
question.

Fury
didn’t respond, but he could see Birdie and Stone shifting slightly on their
feet. They had guns stashed all around the cabin, for obvious reasons, but at
the moment trying to get to any of them would mean a lot of gunfire aimed their
way.

“I
could have killed you just an hour ago while my daughter slept beside you, but
I thought this would be a more appropriate introduction.” Sal moved around the
counter in the kitchen and ran his finger over the granite. “And besides, I
wanted to make sure your death was nice and slow, because what you and your
club did to my son can’t be forgotten.”

Fury
clenched his hands into fists at his side and breathed out. His heart was
thundering as he thought about Angelina in the other room. And then he heard
her in the bedroom. Fury looked at her, could see she’d already been aware they
were out here, and he surmised she’d probably heard her father speaking.

“There
she is, my traitorous daughter,” Sal all but spit out, venom in his voice.

Fury
moved to the side to get in front of her, a human shield to block whatever
vileness her father would throw at her, but the sound of Sal
tsking
,
and of the guns from his men being cocked, had Fury stilling.

“Honorable,”
Sal said, speaking to Fury. “But what little compassion I might have held for
my daughter back in the day, faded when I realized she ran of her own free
will, and slept with the enemy.”

“You
never held any compassion for me,” Angelina said from behind him, her voice
strong, clear, despite the fact he assumed she was scared shitless.

Sal
smirked and looked over Fury’s shoulder at her. “Come here, Angelina.” A moment
of silence stretched before Fury heard her stepping closer. He saw her move
around him, and both of their gazes clashed for a suspended moment.

The
club had to be arriving any minute, but were there more men in the surrounding
area, waiting, watching? It would have been smart of Sal to bring more than
five guys.

Angelina
now stood in front of Fury, feet from her father, and her head held high. She
wore his clothing again, the material sagging off her body. Sal looked her up
and down, and the disgust on his face was clear.

“Sleeping
with the Cardona enemy, Angelina?”

She
didn’t respond.

“You
are nothing more than a traitor to your family. If your brother was here—”

“But
he’s not, because his life was shitty in every way. He took lives, murdered,
raped, stole, and didn’t care for anyone but himself and what he could gain.”

Fucking hell, Angelina.

Sal’s
nostrils flared, his anger clear on his face.

“And
you’re no better.”

Goddammit.
She was going to get herself
killed, and Fury wouldn’t be able to stop it until it was too late.

Before
Fury could anticipate what was going to happen Sal backhanded Angelina hard
enough her head cocked to the side. Fury was in front of her a second later,
pushing her behind the safety of his body, and wanting to open Sal’s neck and
watch him bleed out. He could have knocked the fucker back, but Sal’s men were
right next to him a second later, four guns trained at Fury’s chest.

“Protective,
which is admirable, but it isn’t going to help you when this is all said and
done.” Sal grinned.

“Who
the fuck is the girl?” Birdie asked. Leave it to the other man to point out
something that wasn’t their issue at this moment.

All
eyes went to the fucker that held the woman. She looked groggy, probably
because she’d been drugged. At least it didn’t appear she was afraid.

“Go
on, sweetheart,” the man holding her said. He had his arm wrapped around her
waist, holding her up, and grinning like a sadistic bastard. “Tell them,” he
said with a harder voice.

“Allie,”
she said, her voice thick because of whatever she was on. “My mother is
Trixie.”

Shit.

Fury
knew who Trixie was, not because he’d fucked her, but because she’d been around
the club for a long time. She was a good person, and although he hadn’t known
she had a daughter, this fucker was using her as leverage.

“And
before you ask what I’m doing with her,” the fucker said. “I just want you to
know she’s the icing on top of the shit storm. I’m going to make her hurt
before I have my way with her. If I have to haul her around as payback, I might
as well get some pleasure out of it.”

“You
sick bastard, Nando,” Angelina said, her voice thick now from her emotions.

Nando
chuckled.

Fury
saw a glint out the window in the tree line in his peripheral vision, and
glanced to the side. His body tensed when he saw a flash of leather and denim,
and the gun Shorty held.

The
club was here.

Chapter
Eighteen

Everything
seemed to happen in slow motion. Sal and his men pulled her away from Fury, and
he roared out like an enraged animal.

“Get
your fucking hands off of her,” Fury said and went to grab her away from Sal,
but one of her father’s men jammed the butt of his gun in Fury’s temple. He
stumbled back, but still looked so angry, and even unfazed as blood ran down
his temple.

“Come
after her again and I’ll make sure Angelina is the one that gets the hit to the
head,” Sal said, the threat real.

The
Cardona men kept the barrels of their guns trained at the three bikers. Her
father had his hand wrapped tightly around her forearm and all but dragged her
out of the cabin. Fury and the other two bikers were ushered behind them with
the guns trained to the back of their skulls.

Once
outside she saw her father’s dark SUV, along with another one beside it. This
couldn’t be how this ended for her, because she knew her father seeing her as a
traitor meant she’d be treated as such. She was no longer his blood, but an
expendable “example to be shown to others”.

The
air was crisp for how early it was, but the sun was starting to rise, and the
brightness of it crept over the trees, blinding her for a second. She lifted
her hand to shield her eyes, but was yanked forward by Sal. The stairs of the
porch caught her off guard, and she tumbled forward. Sal curled his lip in
disgust and yanked her up so she was righted.

“You’re
pathetic,” he said, disgust lacing his voice. “I’m glad your brother isn’t here
to see this, to see what a failure and traitor you became.”

There
were a lot of things she wanted to say, but didn’t know where to start. She
knew if she didn’t get out of this she was as good as dead, and the very
thought of Fury not being in her life hurt like hell.

“Your
mother couldn’t even be bothered with you, not when you’re a little bitch and
ran from us,” Sal said and faced her once they were just feet from the SUV.
“She’s too grief-stricken by the loss of her son, her one child that actually
made her proud. Pills, alcohol, and her depression made her a recluse.” Sal
sneered at Angelina. “You should have been there to tend to her.”

Angelina
didn’t bother commenting that she’d just found out Marco died, and also didn’t
mention that her mother had been more focused on herself than to worry about
the daughter she had growing up isolated and alone. No, saying any of that
wouldn’t have mattered or made a difference.

“And
when I get you back to the cabin I’m going to cleanse you. By the time you take
your last breath you’ll be a Cardona again … a dead one, but one that will know
what she left, and is regretful.”

No,
they could torture and kill her, but she’d never regret leaving or finding
Fury. She looked behind her at him, and saw his focus was on her even though a
gun was pressed right to his head. There was determination in his eyes, intent,
and for some reason this feeling like everything would be okay washed through
her. It was only that second of realization and comfort that moved through her
body before she heard the first gun being fired off. Angelina didn’t know which
direction it came from, but she ducked on instinct.

The
shouts, guns being fired, and violence that instantly coated that air had
adrenaline washing through her. The fight or flight instinct kicked in, but Sal
still had his hand wrapped tightly around her forearm.

“You’re
not getting away that easily. Nando,” Sal shouted. “Get rid of the fucking
deadweight and help me toss Angelina in the SUV,” Sal said, speaking about the
drugged-up girl Nando had taken hostage.

Before
anyone else could move the gunfire became the only sound she heard. Her ears
rang, her blood rushed through her veins, and fear slammed into her. She tried
to see where Fury was, but the dirt from the ground made this dusty haze around
them, making trying to see anything nearly impossible. Wrenching her hand away
from her father’s grasp wasn’t as easy as it should have been. He was older,
yes, but he was also strong as hell. But the chaos all around them had things
up in the air, had focuses shifting, and she kicked out, trying to get him in
his injured leg.

“You
fucking ungrateful bitch,” Sal grunted out when she just barely missed him.

“I’m
not going down like this.” And she wasn’t, wouldn’t ever be a pawn again.

She
coughed as she inhaled the dust surrounding them, and the shouts that came
through were muffled. But she spotted Nando, that asshole who was clearly not
going to let go of the girl for whatever reason, start to make his way away
from the carnage. Someone knocked into her and she fell backward, her father’s
grasp coming undone from her. A gun skittered a few feet from her, and she
crawled for it, staying down so a stray bullet didn’t get her. With her fingers
now wrapped around the butt of the weapon, she turned and aimed at Nando. He
was slowly making his way further from the fight. She might not be a good shot,
but she’d practiced a few times throughout her life.

Aiming
the gun at him she fired before he got too far away. Pleasure filled her when
she saw the bullet hit Nando, but he kept moving, so she didn’t know how bad
she’d gotten him.

“Angelina.”

She
heard Fury’s enraged voice behind her. She looked over her shoulder and saw
Fury fighting with one of Sal’s men. A few other bikers were beside him
fighting, as well. She started to make her way over to him, ready and willing
to shoot the asshole that was going after her man, but she was yanked back onto
her ass.

“Fucking
traitor,” her father said and spun her around. A punch to her face had her
gasping and stars dancing in front of her vision. The gun got knocked out of
her hand, and the taste of blood filled her mouth.

“Fuck
you,” she wheezed out and pushed past the pain. Another round of gunshots came
close to them, and she ducked her head once more.

He
chuckled, but it was dark, sadistic. She was now on the receiving end of the
monster her father truly was. Before this she’d been shut up, hidden away from
it and rarely seeing the violence, but hearing about it plenty of times. Those
few times she’d seen it face-to-face she knew her life could never be what she
wanted if she stayed.

“I
see a little of that Cardona spirit coming out in you. Too bad you are no
longer my blood.”

Good.
She’d never wanted to be it anyway.

“Come
on. No fucking way I’m I leaving you here when I have so much planned for you.”
He pulled her forward roughly. “You know what happens to those that betray a
Cardona.”

She
was hauled up on her feet, but she fought every step of the way. As she tried
in vain to get away from her father, he slapped her again. She moved her head
to the side when he went to hit her again, and his palm skimmed her cheek. They
couldn’t move fast because of his injured leg, and even though she tried to get
free, or at the very least take him down, the ground was uneven and the gun he
had pressed to her head had her escape attempts stilling for the time being.

She
tried looking behind her shoulder, but with the uneven ground and being yanked
around, she couldn’t focus. But what she did finally see was Fury’s enraged
face looking at her in between the lethal punches he threw at the guy he
fought.

She
would not be a victim anymore. Angelina just needed to stay strong and think of
how to get out of this alive so she could be with Fury, and never have to worry
about who was coming after her.

****

The
air left Fury and a roar sounded from his throat as he charged forward and
tackled the man he was fighting with. He tried to keep an eye on Angelina,
because that was where he needed to be, where he wanted to be. He needed to
protect her, but the assholes kept coming out and attacking.

A
prick charged forward, and Fury slammed his fist into the fucker’s temple. The
bastard got a blank look in his face before he fell backward. Fury finished him
off in a swift move, the guy’s life ended within a matter of seconds.

“Go,
get her. I got this,” Birdie said, and Fury gave one nod before following Sal.

Even
with gunfire erupting from all around him, with the scent of blood filling the
air, and the violence coming from everyone like a toxic fume, Fury was focused
only on Angelina.

Sal
was trying to get deeper in the woods, but his leg was fucked up and he hadn’t
managed to get very far.

Where in the hell does he even
think he’s going? Does he actually think he can escape?

He’d
obviously thought there wouldn’t be a fight, or if there was his men could take
down the MC. What sane, smart person would come after an MC with a fucked up
leg, thinking he could actually come out on top?

What
Sal didn’t know was the Bleeding Mayhem didn’t back down, and didn’t let anyone
fuck with them.

Fury
didn’t have a gun on him, but he’d managed to snag a knife as he tracked them.

“Back
the hell off or I’ll blow her fucking head off.” Sal’s words had Fury stopping.
They were still a good distance from each other, but Fury wasn’t going to let
this prick get away, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to let him hurt Angelina
any more than he had. Already Fury felt like he’d let her down, and he needed
to make it right, make her see he could protect her.

“You
want me, then let her go.” Fury didn’t know if bargaining would work, because
honestly he’d never done it before. He’d always just gone into a fight and not
looked back, or worried about the repercussions. He crept closer, and Sal took
a step back.

“You
want her as yours?” Sal said and turned his head to spit. “She’s a traitorous
bitch. You sure you want to have something like that strapped to your side?”

Fury
stepped closer. “She ran because of you and the life she didn’t want. That’s
not traitorous, and being with me isn’t a betrayal.”

Sal
shook his head. “It doesn’t matter because she won’t be yours. I’ll make sure
she’s in the ground while you watch.” He straightened even further and sneered.
“I wanted to see your club fucking fall to my feet and bleed out. You better
make sure I’m good and dead or I’m coming after you and taking out every single
one of you fuckers nice and slow.” Sal pushed Angelina out of the way and
pointed the gun at Fury. He started shooting, but Fury was running toward him,
the bullets flying past him and hitting trunks of the trees surrounding them.
Sal kept trying to fire even after the bullets were gone. They crashed into
each other and fell to the ground.

For
long moments they fought, with Sal, being an old fucker that he was and
injured, holding his own pretty damn well. Of course, the rumors about Sal and
Marco Cardona had been that they were brutal.

But
the knife Fury held fell from his grasp when Sal got an undercut in Fury’s
chin. He fell backward, his teeth cut into his inner cheek, and his head
cracked back on a boulder. Clenching his jaw through the pain, he tried focusing
on Angelina.

He
saw Angelina scrambling forward. She grabbed the knife and swiped out. She
managed to cut Sal in the upper arm, and kept fighting him, trying to cut the
fucker.

That’s my good, strong girl.

 
But Sal reared his hand back and backhanded
her hard enough she fell backward, the knife being knocked out of her hand.
Blood came out of her mouth, and Fury gritted past the pain, trying to get rid
of the haziness in his head. He pushed himself up, the pain enough he groaned
deep in his throat. He charged forward again.

Sal
picked up the knife, and just as Fury got to him Sal swiped out, slicing his
shoulder. Fury hissed out and stumbled backward against a tree, bracing himself
with one hand.

This fucker is stronger than he
looks.

Sal
turned and went over to Angelina at the same time Fury was moving toward him.
But the ground was shifting out from under him, the knock to his head when he’d
fallen previously starting to rise up and try to claim him.

Sal
wrapped his hand around her throat and pushed her up against the tree. Even
from the distance Fury could see the sweat beading on Sal’s forehead, and knew
the man was in pain.

“You
fucking bitch. You’ve disgraced our family, shit on Marco’s memory, and gone
into bed with the very men that helped bring your brother down.”

Fury
breathed through the pain, grabbed the knife that had fallen from Angelina’s
grasp, and tightened his hold around it. Without thinking about it anymore he
rushed Sal, placed the blade right at his carotid artery, and sliced him wide
open. Blood sprayed outward, covering Angelina. Her eyes were wide, but Sal had
let go of her to cover his throat, trying to stop the bleeding. Fury moved
away, and Sal fell backward, gurgling. The arc of blood that came from his
throat was in time with the beating of his heart.

Fury
grabbed Angelina and pulled her in close, trying to shield her from the sight
of her father dying, of the violence around them.

“No.
Let me see. I need to watch this end.” She faced her father on the ground, and
Sal stared at them as the life in his eyes dimmed. And then he was lifeless,
the gunfire seeming to have stopped completely, and shouts from the MC
surrounding them.