Never Love an Outlaw: Deadly Pistols MC Romance (Outlaw Love) (49 page)

BOOK: Never Love an Outlaw: Deadly Pistols MC Romance (Outlaw Love)
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“What happened to those men? They knocked out Christa and grabbed me, held something strong to my face so I couldn't breathe...”

I didn't want to say. How was I supposed to explain away the ruthless bastards who'd punched her tutor out and dragged her to the shitty warehouse, where she'd mercifully slept during the torture and death I'd witnessed? But silence was going to panic her. I swallowed hard, trying to make my brain work.

“You had a bad nightmare, Jackie. There's no men, no –“

Brass shot me an angry look. “Don't bullshit the girl, babe. Tell her the truth. We're on the road and we're not coming back here 'til it's safe. I'm protecting you both.”

He was right. Guilt swelled in my chest, and I grabbed my sister's hand, trying to find the strength I'd had just a day ago. Watching Serial nearly rip her to pieces had sucked it out of me – hopefully not forever.

“We got attacked,” I said with a heavy sigh. “It's okay now. Brass and his friends got us out...we're on our way somewhere they can't hurt us anymore. It'll be all right, Jackie. I swear.”

Can you really make those promises?
Doubt swirled in my brain. I wanted to believe I could, wanted to keep her safe...but if it wasn't for the other men, even Brass wouldn't have been able to save us this time.

“Stop talking to me like I'm a fucking kid!” Jackie screamed, shoving me in the shoulder.

“Jackie!” I grabbed her wrists, trying to hold her down.

She was surprisingly strong for a teen. Brass' knuckles went white as he gripped the steering wheel, trying to ignore the screaming match going on inside the truck.

“I've been through the exact same crap as you, sis. It's like you've forgotten,” Jackie said, tears sliding down her red cheeks. “Daddy died and screwed up big time, leaving us money we never deserved. I get that. I know it's the reason these men captured us. I can put two and two together, Missy. I'm old enough to handle this.”

You shouldn't have to,
I wanted to say. But she was right – and it hurt for me to see the cold truth. All this hell we'd been through forced my little sister to grow up before her time.

“It's my job to make sure you don't have to,” I snapped. “And...and I think I'm fucking failing at it. You want the truth? I don't know what tomorrow's going to bring anymore. I want to find a way out for both of us, and I keep digging, trying to find the light...but there's just more darkness ahead. Even when Brass is in the lead. There's so many things he can't control. No one can.”

“Whatever.” Jackie covered her face, turning away from me and burrowing into the worn seat.

“You said your piece,” Brass said, glancing at me as he drove. “Let her get some rest. We had a close fucking call back there. We'll all feel better by morning.”

I looked through the darkness at him, annoyed. I shouldn't have needed any advice about how to handle this...but shit, what did I really know about this life? What did I know about my own sister?

“You told her the truth, babe. That's all you can do, and all I expect. I'm gonna tell you straight too – the next few weeks are gonna be rough. Don't know where it's gonna end. As long as everybody's open and honest, we'll get through it. Right now, my whole focus is keeping you two safe while we get into Oregon. Then I'll figure out the rest, soon as I hear from Blackjack.” He turned away, keeping his attention on the road. “I love you, babe.”

The words hit me in the chest like an icepick. It was too much to process after everything that just happened. I couldn't speak, so I reached for his hand, gingerly placing my fingers over his on the wheel.

Brass flashed me a knowing smile. For now, that was all I needed.

Jackie slept through the entire trip. Not that I minded one bit. I was feeling pretty drowsy myself by the time we rolled into Klamath Falls after about three hours on the dark, mountainous roads.

We parked the truck and found a hotel with vacancies after a quick stop at a local department store. He sent me in to pick up fresh clothes. He changed before we went into the hotel, doing it in the pickup part, stuffing the bloody clothes in a black bag in the back. Everything except his cut, which would be easier to clean up.

When he was done, we headed inside. Jackie sulked in behind us while Brass got everything set up, then we followed him to the room. He threw me some cash to order a pizza.

We were outside on the main deck, next to a crappy looking pool. I heard him outside talking on his cell. It sounded intense. Jackie was taking a long shower, anything to lengthen her time away from me right now, so I stepped out too.

“Jesus Christ. You've only got half the numbers, Blackjack,” he growled into his phone. “Fang's gonna call in other charters to defend his own ass. The cartel war won't matter with the reinforcements he'll bring to Redding.”

The other voice on the line was gruff, determined. I couldn't quite make out what he was saying.

“Really? Fucking who? Me and ten other guys aren't nearly enough to stand a chance of dethroning that motherfucker when he'll have double the brothers there in a week.”

More rough orders from Blackjack. More tension on my man's face. I leaned in and squeezed his arm.

Suddenly, he tore himself away from me, stumbling to the edge of the pool. “You gotta be fucking shitting me, Blackjack! You're really talking about treason now.”

There was a long pause. I could practically see his jaw hanging on the floor before he finally responded.

“Shit. Fuck. It's just...working with the fucking Prairie Pussies?!” He paused, taking a long, slow breath. “Okay. Yeah, I'll call her.”

I crept up behind him as he ended the call, moving my hands on his shoulders. “What's wrong? Don't drop the phone in the pool now...”

He turned around and gave me a cynical look. “I'm pissed, but I'm not stupid, babe. Shit's about to get a whole lot more complicated.”

“Yeah? Where are we going next?” God, he was tense.

My hands roamed his rock hard muscles, admiring and nervous at the same time. I just wanted to calm him down, let him know that I appreciated everything he'd done.

Against the odds, he'd kept his word. He kept us safe, and now he was taking us away from all this.

He was a rock. My rock. Over six feet of pure masculine granite, inked with an animal that still scared the hell out of me, a beast that only seemed to share his spirit.

I couldn't depend on the world, but I could depend on him.

Brass. Jordan. My old man.

“We gotta head up to Missoula. There's another club up there...the Prairie Devils.” He growled the name through his teeth when he said it, giving me the real one instead of the crude slang I'd heard thrown around before. “Blackjack's setting shit up now. If we weren't short on manpower, I'd say he's outta his fucking mind asking for their help. But my sister's got an in with their club. She's married to their Prez, Blaze.”

Now, it all came together. I smiled, smoothing my hands on him like he was clay. If only it were so easy to rub away the anger spiking out of his skin in a static aura. I was about to move in for a kiss when the door to our room swung open.

Jackie stuck her head out, wrapped in a towel, and called to us. “Pizza's here!”

“Be right there,” Brass said, easing me away.

Before he got two steps further, I reached for his shirt, grabbing a fistful. “Wait.”

He spun, staring me up and down.

“I should've said it right away, but I was too damned shocked. What you said on the ride in...” I paused, readying myself to speak the crazy truth out loud. “I love you too. I trust you. I'm here for you, Brass, ready to be your old lady. I mean it for real this time. We're not playing around anymore.”

He grabbed me, his rough hands sinking into my hips as he pulled me to his lips. We kissed as long, hard, and hot as the time crunch would allow us, a kiss that said how grateful we were the bastards in the warehouse hadn't taken away everything before I admitted what we had.

It was here. Right here in his marvelous, insatiable lips.

“No we're not, babe. This is all real. I just gotta finish branding you when all this shit's finally done.” He grabbed me by the hand and led me forward. “Now, let's go. I'm fucking starving.”

Frustration and happiness mingled in his eyes. I recognized the look, praying it would all be over as quickly as he hinted. It needed to be.

Tonight was going to be sheer hell keeping my hands off him while Jackie slept in the other bed.

VIII: Deals With Devils (Brass)

S
leep didn't come easy. It wasn't just club politics weighing heavy on my brain – it was having her pressed up against me in too damned small a room to do anything about it. No fucking way was I gonna make a move and subject the kid sister to hearing us fuck.

But
god damn
my dick ached. Bad. Felt like somebody reached in and filled my balls with lead, heavy and hot, anchoring me to the sheets. Anxious lust hissed through my veins all night. I don't think my hard-on relaxed a second, pressed snug against her ass, taunting me every time Missy twitched in her sleep.

She was obviously having some bullshit nightmares. At one point, I leaned over, kissed her brow, tender as I could without making my cock rage harder.

“It's gonna be okay, baby,” I whispered. “All this shit. I'll kill them all myself for dragging you girls into this. Then I'm gonna fuck your brains out, wipe away all the nasty memories with red hot sex. I'm no doctor, but I've got a cure, and I know how to deliver it too.”

She stirred, wriggling against me in her sleep. I had to shift my hips. Having my dick on her all night was bound to drive me absolutely nuts by dawn, if I didn't wake up balls deep inside her first.

Truth was, Missy ignited a lunatic inferno in my skull, my blood, and especially below my waist. I'd never told a woman I loved her before the drive up.

Before her, that was the sappiest, most alien shit I ever could've imagined. But having her around let cupid sneak up behind me and drive his arrow deep in my back, and I wasn't gonna pull it out for anything.

It was finally all as clear as a California day.

My life had two stages: before Missy Thomas and after her. The before was complete shit, betrayal and stupidity, my family going to pieces while I was too blasted outta my skull to do anything about it. Shit, I'd helped it along, hadn't I?

What was this after, this new run just waiting for me to follow its jagged path? Remained to be seen. But I swore I'd give it everything to make it the beginning of the rest of my life; a smooth, sweet ride that meshed seamlessly with the future I'd give the babe curled up next to me and her little sis.

I had to. Fucking up again was
not
an option.

The ride was long and hard the next day. Woke up with a nasty bruise on one cheek, plus a few kinks in my shoulders and ribs from all the places those fuck faces hit me at the warehouse.

We all ate a quick breakfast in the hotel, checked out, and then we were on our way, second leg of the two day trip to Missoula. It all hinged on time, getting our ducks in a row back in Redding before Fang had too many of his own to snuff us out. The rest hinged on those Devil assholes cooperating.

Thinking about that shit made me want to rip everything apart. Having Shelly as his wife – or Saffron as he called her, my sis' old stripper name – was the only fucking reason Blaze agreed to talk to me at all. And I still didn't know how I was really gonna sit down with those assholes without punching their teeth out.

I'd barely kept it together during their wedding in Reno. Two Prairie Pussies, Stinger and Tank, nearly beat me to a bloody pulp the minute they saw me. Thank fuck their old ladies were there to talk sense to 'em.

We spent the next night in Coeur d'Alene. I got us all some grub at a sit down restaurant. It was strange to eat in public without my cut on over the tight gray shirt, but the Idaho panhandle was Grizzlies MC territory, and I damned well had to keep a low profile. There was no telling what the charters would do as news about the power struggle in Redding spread.

More than a few Prezes out there had axes to grind with Fang, and there was never a better opportunity. But the bastard also put plenty of loyal thugs in place over the years, far and wide, including pussy fuckers who'd stay with him 'til the bitter end while the cartel had them scared shitless.

Dinner was good. The girls both seemed happier. They chatted and smiled, a welcome thaw in the tension I'd seen between them yesterday. Missy told me about her accounting shit while little Jackie rolled her eyes in boredom. Promised right then she'd be going back to school – shit, both of them – as soon as we were clear and free.

“Brass? This is
it?
” Jackie wrinkled her nose when we pulled up to the only hotel with vacancies.

The kid had good reason to whine. The place was a fucking dump, and I seriously contemplated camping out in the truck for the night over staying here. Too bad a hot shower sounded like it was worth the price of admission alone.

I took a full lap around the place, looking for obvious signs of dangerous deals going down or bitches whoring themselves out. Any one of those things wasn't just bad for the kid – it could indicate a connection to the local MC. The Idaho crew made most of their money off women since the Devils' shipments west started to drain our old business.

I looked high and low, searching for skanks or unassuming bikes parked within a couple blocks. Nothing. Missy was leaning on my shoulder.

Stroking my arm, she whispered in my ear. “It's cheap. It's a warm bed. Let's just take it, Brass. Seriously. We've had worse.”

I nodded, parked the truck, and got out ahead of the girls. My ears matched my eyes – the place was eerily quiet.

Yeah, this is the time when most dudes would get in the truck and gun it, or else get gnawed to pieces by some fucked up thing in a bad horror movie. I'd stopped being afraid of anything worse than the murderous freaks I'd run into over the years.

Missy and Jackie hung close while we checked in, right where I wanted them. It took a few rings to rouse the old goat from the back. He spoke in a thick accent – maybe Russian or Polish or some shit – and took my cash without even giving me the stink eye for skipping the card like most decent hotels.

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