Never Love an Outlaw: Deadly Pistols MC Romance (Outlaw Love) (27 page)

“Get your shit together and throw the food back, babe. We have to go. Now.”

Fear shot through my heart. “What's wrong? What happened?”

“Club's in trouble. Firefly took a bullet in the shoulder less than a block away from the clubhouse. The guys have been patrolling all morning and it looks like the area's secure. This shit's a message from the Deads. I've got to get you the fuck outta here.”

For a second, I froze, cold blood running through me. “What do they want? Are they finally back to fight over the dead men?”

“Don't know, that's for us to figure out. My only worry's keeping you safe 'til I get you somewhere secure. I'd prefer that be the clubhouse, but if you wanna swallow the poison yesterday and go back to your family for this, I'll understand.”

“No way.” I shook my head. “There's nowhere I'd rather be than with you. I know you'll keep me safe, Skin. You always have.”

“Good.” He looked at the stuff behind me on the counter. “Let's hurry the hell up. We've got a long run back, and then you're going in the vault. Safest room in the clubhouse. Nobody breaches that shit without a nuclear warhead.”

“Whatever it takes, Skin. I'm yours.” I said the last word in a hurry, right before I desperately began throwing food into the refrigerator and dumping the coffee.

A spatter caught my skin as I watched the hot, black liquid hiss down the sink. It should've burned, but it was the only thing keeping me from turning into solid ice.

S
he clung tighter to me than usual on my bike. I wished like hell I could grab her little arms and hold 'em even closer, whatever it took to wipe away the fear and remind her that I'd never let her hurt again.

Easier said than done now that we had a dragon breathing down our necks, but damn if I wasn't gonna try. We'd just gotten outside Knoxville on the isolated highway, about ten minutes from the clubhouse, when I heard the convoy.

They came up fast, taking the mountain curves like raging chariots.

“Skin!” Meg screamed my name as they surrounded us.

Four bikes. Two trucks. More than half a dozen bastards, all wearing Deadhands' patches on their cuts, and those mean motherfuckers meant business.

“Hold on as tight as you can, baby.” I wouldn't let the worry creep into my voice and spook her more.

Just throttled my bike as hard as it would go, taking the next curve around the mountain so fast it felt like we were on a fucking rocket. She leaned into me. I could feel the poor girl's breath catching in her throat, the terror running through her blood.

Bastards.
I'd find a way to make them all pay for scaring her like this. They'd give me their miserable, fucked up lives, and then some.

I took the first side road where it was too narrow for them to surround us, blazing toward the trees. I had to get ahead. We had to run.

It was our only hope. There were too many of them to outrun on the long stretches of open road, and we were too far away from HQ to risk it.

My eyes focused on a little stretch of road near a cliff overlooking the forest, an old scenic overlook next to a crumbling stone wall and battered stairway. It had just enough space to roar into it and jump the hell off.

“Babe, as soon as this bike stops, you run,” I growled back at her, preparing to slam on the brakes. “Forget about your helmet, forget about the shit on the bike, just go!”

Ten seconds later, the bike screeched to a stop on the cracked pavement, nearly running off the damned cliff. I threw myself off it and grabbed her hand. She raced with me into the brush, struggling to navigate the steep cliff.

This part of the mountains was rugged as all hell. I'd been here a few times before. The boulders were our saving grace, and we headed for the first large crop we saw. I shoved her against the rocks and then pressed her to the ground, hiding her under me for extra safety and support. I also needed to muffle everything coming out of her mouth.

If she broke and whimpered while they were combing the area, we'd be dead for sure.

The Deads weren't giving up just because we'd quit the road chase. Shit, I could hear them now, swearing and trundling down the same overgrown path we'd taken, crashing through the trees, fanning out to search.

It wouldn't take them long. I had to delay. I had to put in a call to the boys, get them the fuck out here, or at least let them know that we were about to be whipped.

I ripped out my phone in one hand, and my nine millimeter in the other. I let my shit dial while I peered up over the rocks, looking for our pursuers. Hellfire tingled in my fingers, the need to put bullets through their skulls, even though we were past outnumbered.

“Skin? Where the fuck are you, boy?” Joker answered in his usual sharp, dead voice.

“We're in trouble, Veep,” I growled in a hoarse whisper, feeling Meg tremble. “Deads here, a whole lot of 'em, just off the old stonewall overlook. I gotta go.”

“Fuck. I'm on it.”

The line went dead. We'd said everything we needed to, and the guys would be on their way soon, minus poor Firefly, who'd taken a shot I hadn't even seen yet.

One man down. Not good when the Deads came in force, and there might be more on the way, ready to hit the clubhouse while they came after my ass.

Another murmur. Some bastard coughed, and my trigger finger tensed. I saw his shadow climbing through the torn brush just past our rocky hiding place.

The rules of war were off. I had to shoot first. These assholes weren't going to show us any mercy, and the only hope we had was delaying them with a couple spilled brains, before it was our blood spattered all over the cool Smoky Mountain soil.

“Stay down, babe,” I said in the softest voice I had.

One more second, and the Dead would be in my sights. I raised my gun, ready to watch his brains shoot out his skull.

I never got the chance to pull the trigger. Cold metal pressed into my spine.

“Don't.”

I spun, planting my gun in another motherfucker's chest. I knew I was fucked when I heard the man I'd been aiming at, coming through the brush. Now, he had his gun trained on my head. I didn't even need to turn to see it.

“What the fuck? You're her only bodyguard? You got any idea how much this bitch is worth?” A big man in a Deadhands cut with a bald head and a satanic goatee smiled.

Fuck.
Of course. The cold realization they were after Meg hit so hard I had to struggle not to shoot the asshole right through the heart and feel a hail of bullets slice me in two.

“You're not taking her,” I growled. “You bastards are making a big mistake, showing your ugly faces in our territory.”

Baldie tipped his head back and laughed. I glanced at the patches on his front, and saw V. PRESIDENT, then the bastard's name, BIG VIC.

“Shame you're not as good at protecting this cunt as you are making me laugh. Step outta the way, little man, and maybe we'll give you a fighting chance by putting lead in your kneecaps instead of your guts.”

“Skin...” Meg fumbled up behind me, clutching my shoulder, desperate to diffuse the bomb already exploding in slow motion. “Don't risk your life. Not again.”

“Ha, the bitch has balls, Veep,” the man behind us said, right before he cleared his throat and spat on the ground. “Sure gonna be fun making her squeal for her folks. I bet she'll hiss and yowl through the whole fucking thing while we're holding her down.”

Instinct took over. I pushed my gun deeper into Big Vic's chest, baring my teeth. Several more men emerged from the clearing, cocking their guns. I heard a shotgun pump, and a big one by the sounds of it, perfectly capable of cutting me to pieces several times over.

Fuck.

“Easy, boy.” The Deads Veep looked at my name patch. “Skin, huh? A name like that gives me some ideas, especially if you're one of the fucks who took out our brothers a couple weeks ago.”

“If that's what you're here for, then you need to talk to the Prez,” I snarled, my words barely coherent through the rage spilling out my teeth.

“Careful. Please.” Meg's grip on my shoulder tightened.

She sounded so scared, like she was turning to stone. Goddamn it. The urge to pull her into my chest was almost as bad as the rush to kill, the demon need to watch this bald sonofabitch and every last man in his crew die beneath my gun.

But that shit was pure fantasy. I hated to admit my woman was right. I had to keep my cool, or they'd snuff me out like a fucking June bug, and maybe Meg too as collateral damage.

“Yeah, boy,
careful.
” Big Vic laughed, before his face went dead serious and he pushed his gun into my chest hard, wedging me between it and the one on my spine. “I'm gonna give you to the count of three, and you'll both drop to your knees. Put the gun down. Let me and Snappy do our thing, and you'll get to breathe a few more minutes while we decide what to do with you.”

Several men chuckled. I wanted to make them all choke on their own fucking blood.

The boys are on their way,
I thought.
Gotta delay. Gotta stay sane. Gotta keep these motherfuckers occupied before they can hurt her, or put me out of action before the cavalry shows up.

“Whatever.” I let my gun drop to the ground and hit my knees.

Meg did the same a second later. The skinny man with the long greasy hair behind me grabbed her, shoved her wrists together behind her back, and fixed something around her hands.

I couldn't fucking look at her. I was on the verge of failing the only woman I'd ever cared about. The only man here who deserved to be gutted more than the Deads was me for letting her down.

“Don't hurt her,” I growled, staring up at Big Vic.

He looked down, his face half-shadowed, looking more like the devil himself than before. His lips curled up in a nasty grin.

“Sorry, bub. Gotta let her folks know we're fucking serious before we pass her off for ransom. Here, let me make sure you don't get too stir crazy while we're ramming our big cocks up her tight little ass.”

“Fuck no!” Two words. “I swear, if you even think that shit again, I'll tear your fucking throats out with my bare hands.”

If only it were as easy as the demon rage boiling over inside me made it feel.

Those words were all I managed before I noticed the heavy, round object swaying in his hand, bigger than his handgun. A split second later, the big rock crashed across my skull, and the world went instantly black.

I woke up seeing red. It took me a second to realize it wasn't just the blood caked all over my face – the fucks hit me so hard my vision blurred to bright red stars. I counted myself lucky they hadn't cracked my head completely open.

“Shut the fuck up and look into the camera, cunt!” Big Vic's command ended in a loud slap. “I already explained to you exactly what to say, and I'm not gonna do it again.”

I forced my eyes to focus, and saw Meg sprawled on the forest floor, next to some shitty little hollow. They'd dragged us deeper into the forest.

Her face snapped back when he hit her. Adrenaline flooded my heart, turned it into a fucking grenade. I jerked up, and found a shotgun in my face, the bug-eyed twig boy they called Snappy holding it.

“Careful, Pistol. Wouldn't wanna have to blow your fucking jaw off before the Veep tells me too.” His boot crashed into my chest.

I hit the ground and rolled, imitating more pain than his weak ass kick really brought to my ribs. I'd learned a long time ago to play weak when somebody had you by the balls. If a man managed to fool 'em, then they'd be too damned busy planning to rip off yours before you took theirs clean off.

Only, this time, I wasn't sure I'd get the chance to tear their worthless nuts off, and it fucking killed me.

Meg, Meg, beautiful Meg. My Meg. Suffering in front of me because I'd fucked up and failed to protect her.

I pressed my cheek into the dirt and leaves, turned my head, and saw her crying. Big Vic had her cornered, holding a small camera in her face, swearing up a storm.

The bastard's face was beet red. I couldn't figure out how long he'd been screaming at her, but it must've been awhile. She'd obviously tried to fight him.

God help her, the woman was brave, doing the last fucking thing in the world she should to stay alive.

“I can't do it!” she barked back, holding herself up on her hands and knees. “I won't! You'll have to kill me first if you hurt him or try to make me lie to my parents. I don't care what you do to me. I've seen it all before.”

“Bullshit!” Big Vic roared, so hard I saw spit fly outta his mouth. “I know that piece of shit, Ricky, was easy on you, and the Pistols are pussies too. You ain't never been properly fucked 'til you bleed. Fuck, I'd have done it that night you sucked me off in that shitty condom, but I had to be happy making you gag instead because I thought you'd bring the club some goddamned money.”

Her eyes went wide. Big Vic smiled, his teeth as big as tombstones.

“That's right, bitch. You remember now. You were crying or going to your happy place or some shit when I rammed my cock down your throat. Made you turn blue in the fucking face.” He stood up and turned around, slapping the flat edge of his switchblade on his thigh. “Shit, what the fuck am I saying? We don't need you to follow script. We can send mommy and daddy a message plenty of other ways. How 'bout I show 'em what me and the boys'll do to you if they don't cough up a cool million?”

The motherfucker's nasty smile said it all.

“No!” I bolted up, staggering to my feet, ignoring the shotgun barrel jabbed between my ribs. “You fucking piece of shit, let her go before I kill every last one of you.”

I screamed it 'til I nearly passed out a second time, going outta my damned mind. Big Vic heard my shouting before Snappy slammed the barrel into my guts, hard enough to wind me. I got in one good blow, cracking the fuckhead's jaw, before he clubbed me over the head.

I went down easy. That fucking wound they'd given me with the rock was still open, oozing blood. Took everything I had to fight the blaze of pain threatening to drag me under.

“What do you think, Snappy? Maybe I hit this asshole a little too hard, yeah?” Big Vic planted his boot on my chest, pressing down 'til I suffocated, and smiled. “Listen here, jackoff, the only ones here who oughta be talking about any killing are
us.
Not you. Have to say, you've given me one fuck of an idea, though.”