Never Have an Outlaw's Baby: Deadly Pistols MC Romance (Outlaw Love) (21 page)

“Guys, I'm sorry as hell to interrupt. But Prez, I thought you oughta know, the Grizzlies are here.”

“Fuck,” Dust said.

Last line of bullshit I heard before I pushed past him, walked the fuck out, and kicked the door shut behind me. They were still screaming as I made my way to the little room in the back, where Summer was laid up.

Or maybe not so laid up anymore. When I came in, I found her sitting on the bed, staring sadly into a steaming cup of tea.

She looked up. Our eyes locked, and it was like a fuckin' dagger going into my chest.

All the hurt. All the loss. Everything I felt for our missing kid, except a hundred times worse.

And it was all my fault that I'd let that shit invade her, shut her down, kill her like a fuckin' cancer.

“Babe,” I said, walking up and putting my arms around her.

She didn't hug me back. My heavy ass heart crashed through my ribs and sank straight to my guts. I wanted to fuckin' puke.

“What? What do you want?” she whispered, barely moving her lips.

“Came to tell you I'm taking off. I'm going down to Georgia and bringing Alex home, or I'm gonna die trying. I ain't waiting for the rest of the boys. Won't lose another goddamned second while he's with those bastards.”

“I heard about the video,” she said. “Heard it from Meg, who overheard it from her old man, Skin.”

My jaw tensed. I pulled back, staring into her eyes, wondering if I'd ever see that warmth again in her soft, green pools.

“Don't bother thinking about it. The fucker holding him, he's gonna die, same with all his brothers. I'll do shit that'll turn your stomach. They'll pay, with every drop of blood they got, baby.”

“So, what, then? You came for a goodbye kiss? A medal? To see me drop down, hugging your knees, begging you not to go? Thanking you?”

What the fuck is she trying to say?
I looked at her, rage and confusion whirling in my skull.

“Get the fuck out, Jackson!” she snarled, pushing hard against my chest. “You won't bring him back. It's all my fault. I should've taken Alex and
ran
at the first chance, taken him far, far away from all this, before you pulled me back in and ruined my life. You took the only fucking thing I ever cared about!”

No, no, and fuck no.

I stood there like a statue, taking all her shit. The regrets, the abuse, the ugly fuckin' crying. Didn't even flinch when she started screaming at me to
go, go, and never come back.
I didn't move when she dumped out her tea, looked at me with more hate than a woman's eyes should hold, and whipped the mug past my head.

Shit glanced my ear, flew behind me, and smashed against the wall. She crumpled over on the bed, bawling her eyes out, losing her fuckin' mind.

It was brutal. Wrong. Volcanic.

Never barked back at her, not once. Because I knew what it felt like to lose my damned mind.

I fucking understood.

All the shit I'd gone through with Piece was eating her now. Worse, because it ate me too, knowing they had our kid.

She sank her claws and teeth into me because there was nobody else she could.

Killing Hatch, destroying the Deads, and bringing our kid home – that was up to me. I'd do it, or I'd die. Alone.

Didn't need her approval, or the goddamned club's.

Before I walked the fuck away, I hovered over her, throwing my arms around her one more time. She was too lost in her hot, painful tears to fight me anymore.

“You rest. You can think twice about some of the bullshit you just said if I come back alive.” Releasing her, I walked, stopping by the door for one more confession. “Bye, Summer. Go ahead and hate me all you want. I loved you, I love you now, and I always fuckin' will – love you as much as I do that kid, the second I laid eyes on him.”

She stared quietly, tears running down her cheeks.

Time to go. I headed into the clubhouse, where I could still hear the brothers screaming at each other in the meeting room.

Several big men in Grizzlies cuts were milling around near the bar. Two or three full patch brothers, plus a gaggle of prospects, one with a glass eye. There were crates of weapons they'd brought in stacked around their feet. The men held their beers while they all eyed the scrum going on behind the wall.

“VP? Shit, you're the only man we've seen in charge,” a tall, powerful looking man with a crew cut said, lightning bolts on his head. “What the fuck's going on in there? Sounds like they're gonna kill each other!”

“Asphalt, no. Not our damned business,” another one said, a massive bastard named Roman, wearing their Enforcer patch. He could've given Firefly a run for his money in size and strength. “Hey, Joker, where the fuck you going?”

I walked right past, not even stopping, 'til I was at the other end of the bar. Then I reached up, caught the loose stitch on my V. PRESIDENT patch, and tore. Hard.

“Talk to somebody else if you wanna know. I ain't in charge of shit here anymore.” I let it drop to the floor while they all stared at me, trying to figure out what the fuck they'd stepped in. “They'll be done soon in there, one way or another.”

I left it at that. A couple of the men called after me, but I was gone, this time for real.

The numbness took over. The evil, killer darkness I'd caged since that kid came into my life, since I'd come within a couple inches of making Summertime mine.

God willing, I still fuckin' would. I wasn't giving up, no matter how shitty the odds.

I fit every gun, grenade, and bayonet I could in my saddlebag before I took off. Then it was nothing except me and the Harley, the road beneath us, its sweet vibrations pouring more rough grief through my bones so I didn't have to.

The mission counted. Nothing else did.

Had to focus. Had to get the fuck outta town, blow down to Seddon, and figure out where the hell they'd set up camp, waiting for our demands.

I got about a hundred miles south of Knoxville, deep in the wilderness, before the motherfuckers came crawling outta the woodwork.

They must've had a prospect tailing me when I passed through one of those little mountain towns, with barely a soul in sight. It was night, and the visibility was shit, thick fog rolling across the road when I passed through the dips in every valley.

I barely hit my brakes when I saw the spikes laying across the road. My bike turned, screeching to a halt, and I fought like a madman to keep it from tipping over.

Three Deads punched their engines and raced forward, trying to surround me, keeping me from leaving the fuckin' state line.

My hand pulled a flash grenade off my belt. I pinched my eyes shut while the bastards around me went blind, buying me a few precious seconds to jump the fuck off, head for the trees, carrying my biggest semi-auto.

There wasn't any full proof way to keep my eyes from going halfway blind when that shit went off. I was still seeing dark green when I crouched down, taking aim at every mean, dark shape I could, firing and screaming like a fuckin' lunatic.

I must've dropped three of them, or maybe four, before the fire hit my shoulder. The round cut through bone, burning like it was ripping my goddamned arm off. Fought it all the way, straining every muscle through the blood pouring down my side, shooting at the assholes crouching on the road 'til the bitter end.

Had Piece lost this much blood before he died? I had about ten more seconds to wonder what the fuck went through his mind before they slashed his throat, or came in with a machete, separating his head in one clean blow.

Fuck, fuck.
I had to keep going.

Keep shooting. Keep killing. Keep fighting.

Even though my fuckin' arm, for all intents and purposes, was gone.

If it was still attached to my body, I couldn't fuckin' feel it. Screaming, I fell back, firing wildly at the sky.

Boots crunched on the brush around me, cursing me like bloody murder. Closer, closer.

The gun fell against my chest. Reaching for my knife with my good hand, I swung for the leg closest to me, howling into the night, trying to kill, kill, kill.

For Summer.

For Alex.

For the brotherhood, blown to shit because Dust's lies had finally gone off like dynamite.

All gone. All fuckin' gone forever if I didn't force myself up, swing again, and execute the motherfucker trying to stomp my head in.

Another kick. Miss.

I swung the knife again, planted it in his leg, and heard a satisfying howl of pain.

Fucker went down. But there were too many others. Too goddamned many – these bastards always had numbers.

The shit-kicker smashing against my skull came from behind. A twig snapped, and I was too damned slow before I dropped the other asshole, pulling out my blade.

Never knew if the blood loss got me first, or the toe of his boot stabbing into my head.

Perfect, cold blackness put me down.

* * *

“
T
hree men
. Three good men ate fuckin' dirt because of you, motherfucker.” A sick, angry voice taunted me in the dark.

My eyes were open, but I couldn't see shit. I'd gone blind.

In the corner, somebody cried. A tiny, helpless voice I recognized, scared for his life.

Alex. My son.

I couldn't see a fuckin' thing, but I crawled on my hands and knees toward the sound, across what felt like a cool concrete floor, covered in dirt.

“Heh heh, look at this bastard, going around in circles like he's chasing his tail!”

“Shut up, Skelly. Shut the fuck up.”

Finally recognized that other voice. Hatch, the abuser, the killer, the demon who'd put my girl through the grinder and had my son out in front of me, like a carrot.

“Alex, Alex, don't be afraid. Don't let them fuckin' scare you,” I growled, laying in front of what I hoped to God was him.

“Father and son,” Hatch said softly, pausing for what had to be a puff. I could smell smoke swirling around me, sinister as a ghost. “I'd say it made me feel some shit if it didn't look so goddamned weak. Jewels, get the little bastard out of here. His fuckin' daddy can't even see him, so he ain't gonna be any use to us.”

“Right away,” a woman said. Probably the bitch with the neon purple hair I'd seen on the video.

I held in my fury, listening to my son cry. Couldn't see her pick him up, but I knew she did, cooing softly to him the whole damned time as they left the room.

Somewhere, a door closed. They were gone. Leaving me alone with who the fuck knew how many evil bastards. A heavy boot slammed down on my bruised ribs a second later.

I heard a gun cock, dangerously close, up against my temple. My teeth pressed together 'til I tasted blood, and I thought they'd fuckin' crack to pieces in my mouth.

“You fucked up, just like the bitch you left on her own,” Hatch said, breathing hot death in my ear. “All my boys are gonna get a piece of you, Joker. Fingers, asshole, ribs, sockets, I don't fuckin' care. Yeah, you heard me. Sockets.”

That last one, he repeated, and I finally knew who'd killed my brother. My whole body shook, wondering what the fuck I'd done to make God bring me face-to-face with his killer, without letting me fuckin' see the motherfucker.

“Don't look at me like that, you ungrateful sack of shit. We could've done it all right in front of your fuckin' kid. We've got rules here, asshole, same as you and all the sorry fucks wearing those popguns on your leathers. You sing, we'll make sure the kid doesn't have to suffer much longer. He'll go out clean, assuming your Prez doesn't show up to pay the fuck up. Then we'll let him walk.” He pushes his gun harder into my head, digging the barrel into my temple. “I'm honest, Joker. I'm easy as fuck to deal with. So, let's try to get this shit off right before I give the go ahead to knock your fuckin' teeth out. Just wanna know one thing – where the fuck's your Veep patch gone?”

Heart pounding like mad, I tilted my head, 'til that gun was right between my eyes. “Go ahead and shoot me, fuckwit. You already know I ain't telling you shit.”

W
hen I woke
up and crawled out of my hole, none of the men were speaking. Not with words, anyway.

But their movements said too much. Everyone buzzed around like drones who'd just had their hive caved in by a hungry bear.

This was serious. This was war. Men walked around with long, dangerous guns unlike anything I'd ever seen outside the movies. Their faces were all long, deadly serious, as if they were all quietly making peace before riding into death.

I watched Meg, the elegant brunette who'd been keeping me company on lockdown, suck face with Skin. He smiled into her kiss, held her close, the long, jagged scar on his cheek catching the light.

Firefly kissed his pregnant wife. Cora, the blonde I hadn't spoken to very much. She sobbed when the big, angry powder keg she called her man swept her up in his arms, laid his lips on hers, and didn't stop until one of the Grizzlies bikers tapped him on the shoulder.

Numbly, I watched in wonder, walking toward the garages with a blanket draped over my shoulders. The huge group of men got on their bikes and fired their engines all at once, with one notable piece of the club missing.

Joker. He'd gone off somewhere on his own, riding solo into death, just like he'd promised me. He'd kissed me goodbye, told me he loved me, loved Alex, and I'd treated him like the biggest bitch in the world.

God. God fucking damn it.

“Back inside, mama.” One of the newer prospects named Tray stopped me from going any further, his shiny bald head gleaming. “Only three of us here to watch the old ladies, and we're gonna do our jobs to the dotted fucking line.”

I'm not really an old lady.
Stopping just short of saying it, I turned with a sigh, and went inside.

The clubhouse was insanely quiet with the men gone. Meg, Cora, and several strippers from their club sat at the bar. The dancers all pouted, probably disgusted that they'd been thrown into the club's protection for the evening, when they could've been out on the floor, earning.

“Hey, girl,” Meg said softly.

I took a seat next to her without saying anything, reaching across the counter for a fresh beer. The men had barely touched a lot of the bottles and cans left behind.

Meg watched me pop the brew open and take a long drink. It was nice to have something harder with tea, something to warm me. Not that it had a prayer of melting the glacier welling up inside me since my little boy disappeared in that park.

“Drink up while you can!” Cora said cheerfully, smiling, lifting a glass of some amber liquid. “I'm stuck with apple juice until after this baby comes out.”

Meg shot her a tense look. “She's going through some crap. I'd say she needs it. None of the brothers have heard from Joker since he stormed out a few hours ago...”

My fingers tensed against the can, hard enough to leave several metallic dimples. Like I needed any reminder.

Over in the corner, a couple strippers squeaked, laughing at some stupid joke between them. God, it was dead and different here without the men around. Especially without mine.

“I've already been through it,” I said to Cora quietly. “One kid, I mean. Haven't been doing a lot of drinking since my uncle's bar shut down years ago, before I got pregnant. He'd been teaching me to make drinks before it all went to shit.”

Meg sat up, cocking her head, taking a swig off her mixed drink. “Ah, you know the Heel could use a relief bartender sometime in the next month or two? We definitely need one before the holidays roll in, and the tips are great. Men don't think twice about throwing extra at their drinks when they're already dropping bundles on the girls.”

I drained the can halfway before I answered, letting the fizzy alcohol wind through my stomach. “Not planning on staying here a day longer than I really have to. I mean, the way things are going, doubt I'll have much reason to.”

The old ladies looked at me, their smiles disappearing. If it was suddenly awkward enough to choke a mule, well, I'd made it that way, and I didn't fucking care.

Why couldn't I have kept my mouth shut before he went away? I wished so badly I could've taken it all back.

“Well, the offer stands if you change your mind,” Meg said matter-of-factly, flicking her brown locks over her shoulder.

“I'm sorry, Summer,” Cora said, leaning toward me from behind her. “I shouldn't have rubbed it in. The baby, I mean. I wasn't thinking. You must be worried sick about him...”

Didn't know if she meant Alex or Joker. I wasn't going to ask.

“Don't worry about it,” I snapped, even though part of me wanted her worry. “It's out of my hands now. Same as mama dying one day at a time, same as losing our house, same as Uncle Robby's bar going down. I'm used to taking punches. Never being able to hit back.”

“There's always a way to fight,” Meg said, staring me down. “I was a prisoner once, before Skin saved me. Did more disgusting things than I ever want to think about. Cora here next to me, her daddy took his life. The club helped her big time, saved her from some really awful men, just like the ones all the boys are out there fighting, right now.”

“It can't be that simple,” I said, trying not to let my anger take hold.

“It is. First thing's first, you've got to be honest with yourself.”

I snorted, polishing off my beer in another gulp. “What the hell does that mean?”

Meg hesitated, turning on her stool, until we were completely level. “Means I see a woman in front of me telling herself a lot of lies. Refusing to forgive. Hell, refusing to let herself even cry.” Meg took a pull from her drink while my mouth dropped open, ready to lay into her, but I held my tongue. “It doesn't do you a lick of good to hold it all in. You're hurting. You think you hate him. You're afraid you're never going to see your son again, or his father, and there won't be a chance to sort all this out. I get it. I've been there.”

“You don't know shit,” I lied. Who the hell did she think she was, and where had she gotten the ability to read a stranger's mind?

“You're wrong about that. We both do,” Cora said, eyeballing me with the same stark pity in her big blue eyes.

“I'm not asking for miracles,” Meg said, reaching for my hand. “All I'm asking you to do is be true to yourself. We both know you can't do that unless you quit fighting it, bottling it up. Let yourself breathe.”

Damn her. Even the whores across the bar were watching us now, whispering to each other. I knew I looked like I was about to explode, and give his clubhouse one more drag out fight to soil its walls forever.

“I was a total asshole before he left,” I said slowly, facing them like my own private jury. “I blamed him. Told Joker it was all his fault for losing Alex, for dragging me into this, for breaking my fucking heart when I thought I'd just gotten it back in one piece.”

“And did he scream at you?”

I shook my head. The bitter lump lodged in my throat wouldn't let me breathe anymore, but I tried to hold it. Tried so fucking hard.

“Then he'll forgive you. He knows you didn't mean it,” Cora said softly. “Babe, you can't beat yourself up. Only thing left to do is hang with us through the rest of this, waiting for him to come back. Then you'll talk it out.”

“And he
will
come home. With your son. They always do, Summer.” Meg grabbed my hand forcefully, refusing to let go, and squeezed. “These men are tough as diamond.”

Tough.

Strong.

Brave.

So many words, fit just right for Joker.

So much for holding it in.

Hot, monstrous tears boiling inside me since Joker walked out broke through. I cried in front of them and the whores, looking like a total mess.

But they weren't wrong. The tears saved me, like pushing poison from a wound.

“The worst part...the worst fucking part...I never got to tell him I loved him.” I just stammered now, collapsed into Meg's arms, surrendering to this stranger.

Maybe she was more familiar than I thought. Maybe they both were.

The two women at my side had done their share of suffering. Even if I didn't know their life stories, I could see it in their eyes.

But they'd both found good in the end. A lot of good, judging by the patches they wore on their matching leather jackets, PROPERTY OF SKIN and PROPERTY OF FIREFLY.
So much
fulfillment, as Cora's swollen belly showed.

Truth, love, and passion with these men who loved like storms, and stormed out like they loved life itself more than any person should.

I hated it. Hated myself for tearing it to pieces, burying what might've been my last chance to experience just a small part of what they'd had with the men who'd made them theirs.

That evil asshole, Hatch, he'd taken my son. But he'd taken my man, too, and I'd fucking let him without so much as a protest hidden in a tender kiss.

“Summer – stop.” Meg dug her fingernails into my arms, the only thing that stopped me from trashing so hard I banged my head against the hard counter. “Hurting yourself won't bring him back. Just let the pain out. Fucking all of it.”

Something brushed against my leg. Looking down through the tears, I saw Bingo, his head tilted in human-like concern.

“You're right,” I said, sniffing, and sliding off the stool. “I need to feed him. Take him for a walk around the building. It's the least I can do when Joker isn't here to do it himself.”

I left the two women with their understanding nods, tugging gently on his collar until we were halfway down the hall. Then he moved on his own.

The big dog didn't need any urging to walk with me.

He'd been like Joker's shadow, the only true companion he'd had in all those wicked years before I'd shown up on his doorstep.

Now, he was mine. All I had left, with both my man and the son he'd given me gone.

Gone.

Outside, on the patio overlooking the shooting range, another burly prospect watched me the entire time. He told me not to leave the concrete, or he'd carry me back inside himself with the dog in tow.

Standing there, overlooking the Smoky Mountain night was good enough. A high moon hung overhead, yellow and otherworldly. I crouched down next to Bingo, scratching his muzzle, touching his thick, gray forehead to mine.

“You miss him, boy. Well, so do I. I'm not afraid to tell anyone the truth. I've told too many lies for too long.”

Wagging his tail, he pulled me up, with my fingers still tucked underneath his collar. We walked the perimeter together.

The big dog followed my lead as I cried, ignoring the prospect, who stared out into the humming forest like a sentinel. I prayed, hoping that maybe this gentle giant would help send them a little higher.

Dear Lord, please bring them home safe. Please.

Bring me my little boy. Bring me my man.

I promise, on my life, on my soul, they'll never leave me again.

I'll never push them away.

I'll never lie to them, to myself, to you.

Amen.

If He willed it, I'd have my family, and nothing would ever take them away from me again.