He was working with The Cartel, and though he died, his men ratted out the plan before Fury killed them—their plan being to cut off the Russian’s supply and then kidnap our women and children for sex slaves.
Yeah—fuck that. Nobody touches our Old Ladies, and nobody even thinks about touching our kids. But, fucking hell, The Cartel is still underground, and we’re all just sitting around waiting for them to strike.
There’s a tapping on the desk, and I look over to see Torch rapping his finger nervously. He looks up at me, and we lock eyes. What I see is a mixture of worry and anticipation before they completely shut down and I see nothingness.
Fuck, that dude is no damn joke. He is one scary fucker, and I’m glad that he’s on my side. I’ve never known a man to turn his emotions off the way he can.
“Just keep vigilant. We’ve heard nothing, not even murmurings,” Fury says.
“Got nothin’ to report on that front, either. We’re not on lockdown, but we’re running full crews and doing extra welfare checks when the men are on runs away from their families. It’s all we can do right now,” I say. The room fills with grunts of agreement.
It’s frustrating as fuck, but I don’t know what else to do. Those fuckers went to ground, and they vanished, completely and totally fucking vanished into thin air. If we could smoke them out of whatever fucking hidey hole they’re in, I’d do that shit in a heartbeat.
“Anything else to report?” Fury asks.
The room stays silent and then he calls the meeting adjourned.
Torch is the first to leave. He practically sprints out of the room, and I wonder what on earth his fucking damage is. He’s had some shit on his mind for years, and it’s probably time he faces the goddamn music about it.
“Need to have a talk,” Sniper says.
I nod in agreement, mainly because I was going to say the same thing, except I was busy focusing on Torch. I wait until the room clears out, and then I look up at him.
“Heard about my parents,” he grunts.
I wait for him to go into his Hulk, angry self, but he doesn’t. Instead, he tips his head to the side and studies me.
“You did that for her? For Mary-Anne?” he asks.
“Yeah. She told me some of the shit she endured. I dealt with it for her,” I admit.
“Kyle and them, they hurt her, so you killed them?” he asks, a question he really doesn’t need to ask because he knows the truth. I nod as my answer anyway. “I was lying to myself for years. I lied to myself to feel better about my leaving. I told myself he’d never hurt Mary-Anne. She never told me differently, so I chose to believe the lie even more.”
“He’d been hurting her before you even moved out of the house,” I inform him.
I watch as his face pales and I feel like shit for telling him. Maybe it’s useless information now, since they’re dead, but it’s information he should know anyway.
“I didn’t know,” he whispers. “I didn’t want to know,” he admits a second later.
“You were a kid. She doesn’t hold anything against you, Snipe, you gotta know that,” I say, clapping him on the shoulder.
“Yeah, fuck. You really fucking care for her?”
“I really do,” I say with a nod. His eyes look up into mine and he nods.
“I’m glad she has that. You hurt her, Pres or not, I’ll fucking kill you—slowly,” he grinds out.
I almost laugh, because the thought of hurting Mary-Anne is fucking laughable—but I don’t.
However, I do grin before I shake his hand. Mary-Anne and I are as good as married when it comes to the club, so he’s my brother-in-law, and that brings our family even closer together, considering his wife is the sister of my daughter-in-law, Kentlee.
“Christmas is going to be interesting this year,” he chuckles.
“No kidding,” I snort.
Together, we walk out of the room and into the bar. Torch walks up to me and asks to see me alone. He tells me that he wants to switch charters, that he wants to come to Cali. I nod, seeing that he doesn’t want to talk about it, but that he seems desperate.
“You’ll tell me the story? I don’t want any blowback on the club for whatever mess you’re in,” I say.
“It’s personal, nothing to do with the club, but yeah, I’ll tell you, later.”
“You clear it with Fury and you got a spot with me,” I say lifting my chin.
Leaving Torch, I make my way toward the bar where I see, Mary-Anne has her head turned away from us, a beer in hand as she talks to West.
He’s a good kid, great head on his shoulders, and now that he’s officially a brother, he’s going to climb ranks at fucking lightning speed. I saw it in him the day he showed up asking questions about how to become one of us, and I see it in him still.
I place my hand on the small of Mary’s back before I slide it around her waist and press a kiss to her temple. She tips her head to the side with a small smile playing on her lips. Then I see it when her eyes catch Sniper’s, and her smile widens.
“Everything good?” she whispers up at me.
“Yeah, sweetness, all good,” I confirm as I take a beer from the prospect’s hand across the bar.
We spend the rest of the evening just relaxing. The girls come by later and we have some beers. Both Kentlee and Brentlee needle me about information on Torch, and why he’s suddenly decided to leave this charter and come to Cali.
I don’t tell them anything, because I don’t know anything to tell. Some of the guys smoke some green, including me, and we just hangout.
We’re one big happy family, and I’m glad there isn’t a big ass party.
Maybe I’m settling into this relationship, truly settling, because the fact that the music is low, the conversation is good, and my family is here, and everybody is happy—that’s all that I care about.
I also already know that I’m getting sweet pussy later.
A complete guarantee.
Once the party starts to die down a bit, the guys that have homes head that way, and the men who live here start fooling around with the whores. Mary turns to me and straddles my lap.
I’m drunk and high; buzzed, but not completely toasted. Her hands start at my stomach and run up my chest before she leans forward and presses her lips to mine.
“Come upstairs and fuck me, baby,” she whispers against my lips.
I stand up, wrapping my hands around her ass, not asking any questions. I want inside of her again. It’s been hours. Though, it feels like those hours have turned into decades. I want that sweet, warm, cunt wrapped around my dick as quickly as possible.
“I love you,” she whispers as her lips trail my neck.
My cock hardens, pressing against the zipper of my jeans, making it uncomfortable as fuck to walk us to the bedroom, but I continue on.
“Sweetness, you’re gonna have to hang on, because I need to fuck you hard tonight,” I grunt as I kick the bedroom door behind me.
“Oh, yay,” she giggles.
I toss her onto the bed, watching her body bounce a couple times before I order her to strip. Then I do the same, my eyes never leaving hers.
I’m going to fuck her hard, reprint her gorgeous tits with bruises from my fingers, and make her scream for me. Then I’m going to come so hard and so deep inside of her that she’ll assuredly be pregnant.
Chapter Twenty-Three
MARY-ANNE
I stretch and yawn with a smile. We’ve been home from Idaho for a week, and I finally feel rested. The ride was long, and my ass hurt so bad by the time we came home.
I was never so happy to pull up to our little white house as I was the night we arrived back into town.
Now, I finally feel caught up. I slide out of bed, knowing that I’m home alone. Max is probably at the clubhouse, doing whatever it is he does there all day long. I don’t ask, because I honestly don’t need to know about what is presumably very illegal.
I make my way downstairs and then walk over to my comp
uter, powering it on to check my emails. I’m so caught up on my work, I’m actually ahead, which is another reason to smile.
I have an email to make a mockup for a new customer. She’s getting married and wants save the date cards. I work for about an hour, creating something that I think she’ll like—something country, yet classic.
I walk upstairs with every intention to shower and dress for the day, but the bed looks comfortable, so I climb back inside, falling asleep again.
“Mary,” a voice calls. I sit up groggily.
I look at my clock and am surprised to see that it’s well after noon. The voice calls out my name again, but I don’t recognize it. I make my way downstairs and come face-to-face with Kyle’s father.
“Mr. Clark?” I say in surprise.
He’s standing in the living room, wearing a three-piece suit, as usual, and he doesn’t look like the kind, older gentlemen I remember. His face is all twisted and angry.
“You little cunt,” he growls.
“Wh-What?” I gasp, taking a step back.
I don’t get far.
He reaches out for me and I fall, my head landing with a loud crack on the hardwood floor.
The face I see right in front of my eyes, looming over me before darkness takes over, is an exact replica, except older, of Kyle—right before he would hit me.
MADDOG
Fuck.
I’m exhausted.
I head home, hoping that Mary-Anne has made something for dinner. I’m drained and hungry. I spent all day long playing phone tag with both Fury and Torch, of all people.
Torch came here tonight, a transfer of sorts. I had to call church and make sure it was cool to bring him in. Though I have the final say-so, I wanted to run it by my guys anyway.
Torch could just go nomad, but he needs brotherhood. I can see it in his conflicted eyes; he’s battling some demons, and he needs brothers around him. What he doesn’t need is to feel alone.
I had a room set up for his arrival, and I waited for him to show. He looked weathered, tired, but good. I don’t know why he’s here, all that Fury knew was that it had to do with his past. I figured it was finally time for him to exorcise some of his demons.
Now, after spending all day down at the club, I’m finally home. All I want to do is shower, drink a beer, eat, then fuck my woman—in that order. I walk inside of the house, and instantly I know—I just know—that something is wrong.
I make my way upstairs, reaching for my gun as I do, then walk into my bedroom. My body jerks to the side as I feel a bullet burn through my flesh.
It happens again, and my eyes search the room for the source. I find it and raise my hand to shoot the man who is standing in the corner.
I pull the trigger right as he yanks Mary-Anne in front of him, holding her as a shield against his body. I let out a roar as my body falls, three more bullet’s entering me.
I don’t see if I hit Mary, I don’t see anything.
The entire room goes black.
MARY-ANNE
I scream as my entire body jolts awake. There is a burning sensation that’s so painful in my shoulder, I can’t help myself. I can’t stop myself. I scream again.
“Shut the fuck up, you stupid cunt,” Mr. Clark growls in my ear.
I whimper but press my lips together and bite the inside of my cheek simultaneously, trying to keep from screaming out in pain.
“Look at your man over there. Fucking pathetic,” he hisses in my ear.
I open my eyes and look down at Max, who is face first on the floor. I whimper again and stare at him, unable to break my gaze away from his body, watching to see if his back moves up and down, watching to see if he’s breathing.
He’s so still, so fucking still that tears spring to my eyes. I no longer feel the pain in my arm. All I can focus on is the fact that it doesn’t look as though he’s breathing.
I twist in Mr. Clarks arms, pissed off that I don’t even know the uptight assholes real name, and I pull my good arm back and punch him in the face. He stumbles back in shock and falls down.
I take the opportunity to do what Bates always told me to do.
I straddle him and I stick my forefinger straight out before I shove it deep into his eyeball. I hook it inside of him, feeling the warm goo of his eye socket, and then yank his eye out.
He screams like a woman, louder than I even did, and bucks beneath me. Then I do it to his other eye before I stand up and stomp on his cock, grinding my barefoot into his dick, hoping against all hope that they have to surgically remove it after I’m finished mashing it with all of my leg strength, my adrenaline rushing throughout my body at enormous speed.
He curls into a ball on the floor, and I grab my cell phone, calling the only man’s number that’s in it—aside from Max and my brother’s. I call the Vice President of the Notorious Devils. I call Grease.
“Mar—.”
“Help, help, help! Max isn’t breathing! Fucking help,” I scream into the phone, completely and totally losing my shit.
Grease doesn’t even say a word. He hangs up on me and I roll Max over, tears falling from my eyes at how much blood there is around him, and how pale he looks.
Fuck, he’s going to die.
He’s fucking going to die.
It’s all my fault. Mine.
I knew what would happen to Kyle if I ran to any one of the Devils, be it Idaho or Cali.
I knew, and I did it anyway.
Not only was I scared, but I was selfish. I am selfish, and I wanted someone to save me. I should have saved my fucking self. Then none of this would have happened.
I hear the sirens and then I hear the boots that climb the stairs. I turn around and both Grease and West are standing in the doorway.
I look up at them, holding Max’s lifeless body in my arms with tears streaming down my face.
“Holy fuckin’ shit,” West whispers.
Grease doesn’t say a word. He walks directly to my side and leans down right as the paramedics burst through the room. Without even a second thought, they run over to me and Max.
Grease drags me away, and I let him, knowing that the paramedics need to get to Max—need to try and save him. I lean my full weight against Grease.
“Don’t let him die,” I whisper tipping my head back to look up at him.
“He’s too stubborn to die, darlin’ girl,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around me. Then he curses. “Fuck, you been shot too?”
I nod my head at his question, suddenly feeling extremely light headed. Then I loll my head to the side and look over at West. He’s standing over Mr. Clark, his face twisted in disgust.
“I pulled his eyes out, and I’m pretty sure his dick will never be the same,” I say softly.
Grease follows my gaze as a second set of paramedics file into the room, right before the first set take Max downstairs.
“She’s been shot,” Grease calls out to them.
“This guy’s missing his eyes,” one of the paramedics calls out.
“That guy did the shooting, and this right here is a woman who’s been shot,” Grease emphasizes.
The paramedics look at each other before they take him in again. I notice when one of them see’s his cut, and then they both rush over to me.
“I love him, Grease,” I whisper, my tongue feeling heavy inside my mouth as my eyes roll into the back of my head.
“I know you do,” he whispers.
WEST
I watch as they wheel Mary-Anne away. Fuck, she tore this motherfucker up. Grease walks up next to me and cringes. His eyeballs are just hanging on the side of his face, and his hands cup his junk. I don’t even want to think about what she did there.
A third set of paramedics come up to collect this heap of disgusting, and walk out of the room, just in time for four police officers to walk in.
There’s blood and shit everywhere, along with a gun. I glance at it, as does Grease, and it’s not Pres’. His is against the wall where his lifeless
body was found, his woman clutching onto him for dear fucking life.
What the fuck happened here?
“What do you boys know?” one of the officers asks Grease.
“Not much. Pres’ Old Lady called me a couple minutes ago and screamed for help. When I got here, she was holding him, both of them shot.
And the other fucker was slumped over here, eyes gone, and she said she smashed up his dick, but I didn’t check that out for sure,” he says with a shrug.
“Let’s collect the guns, then we’ll talk to the only three people who actually know what happened as soon as we’re able to,” he murmurs before shaking Grease’s hand.
I watch as the cops walk away, first collecting the guns, and then taking their leave. It surprises me; but then again, they’re bought and paid for. I suppose it shouldn’t.
“Let’s call the brothers and get down to the hospital,” Grease mutters.
We both pull out our phones as we walk away from the bloody crime scene. I send a text to a couple prospects to come and clean up the bedroom, thankful that I’m no longer one of them, but a real patched brother.
“Call, Ivy, too. Mary-Anne knows her, right?” Grease suggests, asking about his sister.
“Yeah,” I grunt before I call my Old Lady.
It doesn’t take us long to get to the hospital. The nurse’s station won’t tell us dick about MadDog or Mary-Anne.
I watch as Torch, a brother who just joined our club from Cali, walks through the hospital doors. I’m watching, waiting for Ivy to come through those same doors.
“I called Mary-Anne’s brother and Fury,” he grunts before he starts pacing. “It’s a twelve-hour drive for them, so I need to send updates when I can. Heard anything?” he asks.
“No, man. The nurses won’t tell us a fuckin’ thing,” I murmur.
We sit for hours, and we wait. Ivy shows up shortly after Torch, and she curls into my side, trying to hold her shit together. She’s scared.
The Notorious Devils MC: Complete Collection BoxSet Page 103
