Never Kiss an Outlaw: Deadly Pistols MC Romance (Outlaw Love) (2 page)

Some place in Knoxville. Probably not a dangerous job, or else he'd have briefed us and brought more guys.

No, this was just him and I. Weird, really, but fuck if I was asking any questions I didn't need to.

We rolled through the gate and I followed the Prez along the highway, letting the fresh spring air rolling off the Smokies fill my lungs.

The mountains loomed large in the distance. Having a clubhouse here felt like living in a castle sometimes. Not that it gave us any hard protection if the Deads down in Georgia or any other mean motherfuckers decided to roll into our territory.

For the first time in years, we had money, and we were starting to get our shit straight. Skin, our Treasurer, was helping jump start the new strip club in town. So was the rich girl he'd taken for an old lady, the stray we'd all helped save.

We'd gotten a piece of her daddy's money in return.
Badly
needed cash, honestly, seeing how the club was running on cheap booze and favors before we fell into it.

Dust rolled down the exit leading into the city and I followed. A couple minutes later, we rounded our way into a cozy neighborhood full of old houses, sleeker and safer than the trailer park where I'd grown up.

His bike slid to a stop next to a small gray house. I watched the Prez tear off his helmet and followed suit, stuffing it into the empty space behind me.

“What the hell we doing here, Cap'n?” I asked.

“Personal favor. If she starts screaming, you just grab her and gag her.”

What the fuck?
He didn't elaborate, and now I wondered what the hell had crawled up his ass.

I followed him up the concrete steps leading into the house, his hand too close to the holster tucked against his belt for comfort.

Dust knocked on the door while I stood next to him. We both waited, and it seemed like nobody was home.

“Sure hope the man left it unlocked. Otherwise, we'll break it down.” He reached for the knob. It popped with a single turn, and the door creaked open into a dark, neat looking house.

Relief should've steamed out my nostrils, knowing we wouldn't have to kick down a suburban door in broad daylight. But I wasn't letting go of shit 'til I found out why the fuck we were here.

“Come on,” Dust said, waving me in behind him.

We headed for the kitchen, where I saw a skinny older man dressed up in a tan shirt at the kitchen table, a bottle of Johnnie at his side. Wasn't 'til we were face to face that I saw the brown shirt was a sheriff's, complete with badge, and then I nearly shit my pants.

“Jimmy, goddammit, you're gonna kill yourself.” Dust grabbed the half-empty bottle and smacked it on the counter, away from the very drunken cop. “Where is she?”

“Not home yet, Dust. Just give her a few more minutes. I'll let her in, introduce you guys, and you can be on your merry little way.”

“Just like that? Can't believe she'll come along so easy. What the fuck have you told her?” The Prez folded his arms, giving the old buzzard a look straight from hell.

“Nothing, nothing.” Must've taken him ten seconds to process the stink eye Dust was giving him. “Fuck, come on, Dusty. Telling her every little thing wasn't part of the deal. I've done my part years ago. Now, you
owe
me.”

I waited for the Cap'n's fist to slam into his jaw after the way he'd said it. Nobody talked to our Prez that way – fucking
nobody.

Instead, Dust pulled out the empty chair across from him, and then yanked out the extra for me to join him.

“Have a seat, Firefly. We're gonna sit here with our friend and wait 'til his pretty daughter shows up.”

Prez, what the fuck?
It burned my tongue like a damned ghost pepper, but I swallowed back the words, knowing any open questions were only gonna make this shit harder.

“Be good to her, Dusty. Please. It's gonna be hard enough on my girl.” The sheriff spun around shakily, looking for his booze. He started to amble up to get it, but his legs wouldn't work, and he fell back into his seat a second later.

“Not even a question, Jimmy. We'll keep her solid. Christ, look at you.” Prez stopped and ran a hand across his face, like he could hardly stand to look at the poor bastard. “You gotta sober up. This how you really want to say goodbye to her?”

The wiry cop squinted. Noticed his uniform was missing a few patches for the first time, which probably meant he was off the force. Maybe retired, judging by the wicked deep lines in his face.

“Fuck you. She'll remember all the better times before today. I raised my Cora right. That's all I ever tried to do, everything I promised Emmie the day she died...God! Was it really twelve years ago?” He shook his head, making his greasy hair flop around. “Twelve fucking years. And I'm about to join her.”

“Don't start with that shit. You're not going anywhere, Jimmy. Sobering up'll help you when the Feds come to clean you up. I hear the witness protection racket can do wonders these days, get you a whole new name and number. You leave pulling the strings to me. I'll do what I can to make sure you won't have to spend much time looking like an orange-fucking-creamsicle once you spill the beans...”

“No.” Jimmy sat up straight, reaching near his belt, struggling for something there. “I'm not going anywhere. I'm going out my way, Dusty. Didn't wanna tell you before...”

His hand came up clutching a gun. I shot up and drew my nine in a split second, all my instincts from the Army coming back like lightning.

“Freeze, fuckin' asshole!” I roared.

“Put it down!” Dust barked, grabbing my arm, wide eyed and crazy. “He doesn't mean any arm. He's...”

The Prez was at a loss for words. He reached out slowly and took the gun from Jimmy without a fight. The two men shared a look across time and space that had me truly fucking baffled.

Nothing about this shit made sense.

Goddammit. Orders were orders, weren't they? Fighting the urge to put a bullet between the drunkard's head before he did the same shit to us, I let my arm fall.

I stuffed my gun back into its holster and sat down, growing madder by the minute at the vicious mystery killing us here.

What the fuck was going on? Seriously?

“Hey, never said you could keep it!” Jimmy snarled, reaching across the table. The edge caught him in the guts and he started coughing, toppling over and hacking up a fucking lung.

“You'll get this back when you tell me exactly what you're planning. I'm not letting you die by your own fucking bullet, buddy. We've come too damned far for that.”

“Godddamnit, Dusty, you're a bastard to the end.” He slumped in his chair, pounding his chest, giving us both a look that made me damned glad the Prez was holding that gun. “Already said – I'm going out my way. I'm a dead man no matter what I do, Dusty. You fucking know it. You think a skinny ass sheriff like me will last a month before getting gutted in the pen? I can't wait for you and the club pulling any strings. I'm screwed, blued, and tattooed.”

“All that booze's going to your head, old man. Doesn't have to go down like this.” Dust paused before he lobbed the next grenade. “It's gonna be hell on your Cora as it is. You really want me to tell her that her old man died a coward? Offed himself like a fuckin' lemming?”

“Asshole!” Jimmy shot up, tried to punch the Prez.

I was on my feet in a second, ready to grab him, but the Cap'n motioned me.
No. Let it ride.

So, I did, and watched him fall face first into the table. He lifted himself up slowly, red faced and blubbering like a baby.

Fucking pathetic. Hell, right up there with the most pathetic sights I'd ever burned my eyes on.

I wanted to spit in this fucker's face, and then shake the Prez stupid for dragging my ass out here when I could've been back in bed, balls deep in blonde pussy.

“This is my choice, Dusty.
Mine.
” Jimmy bared his chipped teeth. “You take care of my little girl and leave me fucking be. I'm a dead man anyway with a Torches' hit on my back. I can wait for them to flay my skin off, maybe set me on fire, or I can go out my way. Easy.”

What the fuck?
My eyes bugged the hell outta their sockets.

The Atlanta Torches were our allies, but only because Prez's old man had given us a shotgun wedding with 'em when things started heating up with the Deadhands MC.

We both hated the Deads, and that was good enough. Dust looked at me while he reached out to Jimmy, and threw him back in his seat so hard I thought he'd push the drunk to the floor.

Not now,
his dark gray eyes said.
You can save your stupid questions for when we're done with this sack of shit.

I was about to roll with 'em anyway. Nothing about this situation made any goddamned sense.

Why were we helping this asshole when he'd fucked up bad enough to cross the Torches in our territory?

We should've rolled out the red carpet to let our buddies put a knife in his throat.

Something stank, so bad my nostrils hurt.

Jimmy shook his head and slumped in his seat, finally defeated. I stood up, ready to get some fucking answers or at least slug the last of that booze. But before I could cross the kitchen, we heard the screen door we'd come through open and bang shut again.

The drunk sat up like he'd seen a ghost. Prez collected himself, and got on his feet, striking the power pose he always did before he had to size some shit up. I froze in my tracks, one hand on the bottle of Johnnie, and the other on my gun.

I only saw her for a second before the brightest blue eyes I'd ever seen locked onto mine.

Fuck. She's...goddamned beautiful.

I'd expected anything between heaven and hell to come walking into the kitchen.

Never expected an angel, if angels were allowed to have racks like strippers and asses like the rising sun, so hot and full and beautiful I went fucking blind for a solid second.

Good thing she was dressed like a pastor's daughter, an old timey skirt reaching to her ankles. I wanted it gone – ripped to shreds. Never mind the fact that it was the only thing stopping me from losing it for a lot longer.

“Daddy? What's going on here?” She dropped her eyes and walked right past me, heading for the table.

I did a double-take as I spun around. No fucking way.

That miserable old drunk yammering about how boned he was shat out this...this sweet, hot, fuckable babe? This walking piece of perfection who got me so damned hard in all of two seconds I forgot why I wanted to put my fist through the nearest wall while chugging Johnnie?

“Cora, girl, you close your sweet mouth and listen,” Jimmy rambled, sweat rolling off him like a damned hog. “I'm...I'm going away for a while. A good, long while girl. I did some bad things.”

Wasn't sure who's mouth hung wider – hers or mine.

“What?!”

“Cora, don't...don't you fucking cry on me. I can't take it.”

The selfish bastard grabbed her by the arms and pulled her into his chest. Hot, angry tears rolled down his eyes while his daughter fought to get outta his grip.

Cora.
I watched her eyes tremble, wishing I could spark a shine in them that would be a whole lot happier.

A pang of guilt rattled my chest. This wasn't the time to think about bending her over and finding out how well that round ass bounced beneath me.

Try not to think about it, you bastard. Try, try, try.

Yeah, good fucking luck.

I put the bottle down and looked on, eyeballing the Prez while she talked to her dad. The disapproving look on his face aimed at me was almost as bad as the one he had for Jimmy.

“These men are here to give you a better life. I know what they look like, and you're going to be scared, but you have to trust them. Do everything they say. They'll keep you safe. Dusty and I go way back. You can trust him, just like I do.” Jimmy looked up, his eyes shining like he'd sobered up as he stared at the Prez.

Dust nodded. Very slowly, the cop let his daughter go. She stumbled backward with a look of confusion that almost made me sorry for the hard-on thumping in my denim.

“Firefly.” Dust looked at me and motioned to the girl.

My cue to step up. I moved real slow, tried to hide the fact that I wanted to lay her against the nearest surface and fuck her brains out. She must've saw right through it, seeing how she backed herself into the nearest corner like a scared cat.

“It's okay. Prez is talking truth. We're not here to hurt you.”

“How do I know that?!” she screamed, looking past me desperately. “Daddy, what the
hell
is going on here? I just came home and you're passing me off to these dirty bikers?”

Dirty?
I clenched my teeth. I'd taken a good, long shower before I tapped the slut, scrubbing every damned drop of grease and motor oil off my skin.

“Cora, just listen to me. Just this last time. You don't understand. God willing, one day you will. This is the way it's gotta be. Baby, I'm sorry, but this has to be goodbye. No way around it.” He looked away from her, his whole body starting to shake. “I'm going away for a long time. Dusty...give me my gun and get her the hell out of here.”

Her eyes lit up like the moon when she heard him say
gun.
Then she started screaming bloody murder.

“Gun? Gun?! Daddy –
why?
” Those tears filling up her pearly blues became waterfalls. “You've lost your mind! I have to get out of here, call the police, before something –“

Fuck no. Only thing happening here was settling her ass down.

I grabbed her, and she smashed her elbow into my stomach, fighting with everything she had to rip me off her. Fuck, fuck.

“Cora! Go easy on her, bastard. Easy. Just because I'm leaving this world doesn't mean I won't gouge your fucking eyes out if you hurt my little girl!” Jimmy fumed, throwing his fists against his sides again and again.

“Get her in the garage 'til she calms down! Gag her if you have to. Shit, use the Johnnie...” Prez motioned to the bottle, shaking his head. “Fuck you, Jimmy. This is
not
the way I wanted this to go down.”