The one thing I’ve learned about the man, all the bikers, is they seize upon fear and weakness. In spite of wanting to piss myself, I can’t show it. Even if, deep down inside of me, I know that he knows what I’d planned for Sloane. The man’s scary like that. He sounds like an ignorant moron but he’s street smart, intuitive, and dangerous. Moreover, he likes Sloane.
Worse, Megan adores Georgiana. If something happened to Sloane that would crush his wife and, as a result, Megan would be hurt. Outlaw is sometimes psychotic where his wife is concerned.
“What’s going on?” Sloane asks into the heavy silence, once the women are gone.
All the bikers stare at me. The guys, my inside circle, join in, realizing I’ve fucked up in some sort of way.
Outlaw lights a cigarette, then releases the smoke, his snake-y gaze never leaving my face. Sweat beads my skin. My balls shrivel to the size of sunflower seeds. My yellow-bellied reaction pulls a wince from me.
“Outlaw?” Sloane questions.
“I gotta talk to this motherfucker a-fuckin-lone, Sloane,” he says in a lethal tone, holding his cigarette between two fingers, and pointing at me.
Sloane’s eyes widen and Jaeger pales, while the others start filing out. This is Sloane’s house, but Outlaw has spoken. He’s Prez, the leader. The boss.
The killer.
Right before only the two of us are left, Outlaw calls, “Not your fuckin’ ass, Cash.”
Cash and I freeze. The other men already in the hallway, walk back in. As one, we look at Outlaw, but his cold expression gives nothing away.
“Cash?” Stretch whispers.
The bikers shift their weight, glancing amongst themselves.
“Christopher?” Johnnie queries.
Outlaw blows out more smoke. “Out,” he orders.
They look sick. Panicked.
Stretch lags behind. “Outlaw, please.”
“It’s okay, babe,” Cash soothes.
“Get the fuck out, Stretch,” Outlaw declares without mercy. “This gotta do with Kiln and Cash. None of you motherfuckers.”
“What did I do?” Cash finally asks.
Outlaw’s announcement returns his voice.
“Don’t fuckin’ play me, motherfucker,” Outlaw orders.
But Cash doesn’t know of our infractions. Only I do. This is all on me.
“I’m not leaving you with Kiln,” Sloane begins, and holds out his hand. “Unless you give me your guns.”
“Ain’t givin’ you my fuckin’ piece, Sloane.”
At Outlaw’s snarl, desperation creeps into Sloane’s eyes. He’s about to risk himself by arguing with Outlaw. For me.
“Then, I’m not leaving you with my brother. No fucking way.” Sloane looks to Cash. “Or Georgie’s brother. She loves both Cash and Josh. They are my brothers-in-law.”
“Don’t give a good fuck,” Outlaw snaps. “Motherfucker tryna fuck over one of my fuckin’ friends, and Cash fuckin’ helpin’ him.”
“It’s not Cash’s fault,” I break in. “He didn’t know.”
Until this moment, I’m sure Cash didn’t know why he’s being detained. I see the moment it dawns on him. He looks between me and Outlaw, and stiffens, staring at me as if he wants to shoot me himself, although I doubt he knows the friend Outlaw is referring to, is Sloane.
Suddenly, I’m afraid Sloane will find out. He’ll never forgive me. Never trust me again. He’ll want nothing to do with me. I’ll be ostracized.
Sloane rubs his eyes and tries again with Outlaw. “Please, brother,” he starts. “Kiln’s an asshole, but he’s my family. I’m an honorary member of the club, so shouldn’t the protection I get extend to him?”
My stomach turns. I can barely listen to Sloane campaigning for my life when I’d intended to end his. Outlaw finds another ashtray and puts out his cigarette.
“Prez, killing a motherfucker in the house of a motherfucker you call a friend, not the best way to keep friends,” Mortician says as lightly as possible.
Outlaw isn’t amused. He transfers his hard stare to Mortician, and the club enforcer raises his hands and steps back. Johnnie pulls out his phone, and starts texting.
The motherfucker is texting in a time like this.
“What will it take to save his life?” Sloane says, focused on Outlaw. “I’ll do anything.”
“Ain’t shootin’ the motherfucker first,” he explains. “Not like my fuckin’ ass usually do. Because he your fuckin’ brother, Ima let him give me his fuckin’ reasons, then Ima decide.”
Sloane scrubs a hand over his face, then looks to me, his eyes blazing. “Jesus Christ, you’re a stupid motherfucker,” he snarls. “What the fuck have you done, asshole?”
It hasn’t dawned on him that Outlaw is speaking of him. He trusts me so much that his mind isn’t even turning in that direction. And, apparently, Outlaw isn’t going to tell him. Rather than hurt Sloane with my betrayal, he’ll look like the bad guy and fuck me up.
He knows the real meaning of friendship and loyalty. They both do.
“Christopher?”
At the sound of Megan’s voice, Outlaw snaps his attention to the doorway. I don’t know why she’s here, but I wish she’d leave. I don’t have time to listen to her meek little voice telling him how much she loves him.
Outlaw glares at Johnnie. “You text my wife, motherfucker?”
Jaw clenched, Johnnie looks away.
Megan weaves her way through the crowd of men and stops next to her husband. She stands on her tiptoes and he bends down so she can reach his lips to kiss him. “I love you,” she says, just as I knew she would.
She’s so fucking pathetic. Even Georgiana, with her submission to Sloane, isn’t as bad a Megan Caldwell. She bows down and gives into Outlaw as if she’s a child. I never realized how little I like, or respect, her, until now, when she’s delaying my confrontation with her husband.
She thumbs his lips. “Calm down,” she says in that same soft, pathetic tone. “All Sloane wants is for you to give him your guns. Kiln is his brother. Sloane is your friend.”
“This club fuckin’ business, Megan,” Outlaw barks. “Stay the fuck outta it.”
“I know,” she says gently. “But, um, I’m in the house. So’s Georgie and her kids. Her friend, Raine, is here.”
It isn’t moving him. Why does this weak bitch keep talking? She’s annoying the fuck out of me. I’ll bet she’s just as air-headed as blondes are reported to be. She has to be if she can’t see she’s wasting her breath. What the fuck does it matter if she’s here when he wants to shoot my ass off?
He’s looking colder and angrier by the minute.
“Christopher,” she drawls, then stands on her tiptoes again and bites his chin. Once again, he bends to give her access. “Please? I’m so tired. We’ve been on the road for two and a half days. Talk to Kiln right now.”
He grunts and wraps his arm around her waist.
“You could, maybe, keep him somewhere,” she suggests. “Once you get through talking to him.”
“Detain him?” Johnnie asks, supplying a word she clearly didn’t know.
“I didn’t want to say that,” she says, still looking at her husband, pretending she has a wide vocabulary, “but yes.”
“Motherfucker committed an unforgiveable offense, baby. He a fuckin’ traitor.”
“He wants to talk to me, too, Meggie,” Cash calls gravely.
What kind of bullshit is this?
Megan groans. “Cash is Georgie’s brother, Christopher.”
“Don’t give a fuck,” he yells at her. “Only fuckin’ way motherfuckers stay the fuck in line is if I don’t put up with their bullshit. Stay the fuck outta club business.”
“I like being welcomed here. If you kill Kiln and Cash, or even one of them, that will put into question whether or not they’ll ever open their doors to us again.”
Understatement. She’s very fucking funny.
Scowling at her unflinching regard, Outlaw yanks a nine-mil
limeter from his cut and hold it out to Johnnie, who quickly takes it.
“What about the other two?” she asks.
“My nine quick fuckin’ access, Megan. Ain’t givin’ the other motherfuckers up. Take that shit or leave it.”
She sighs. “Can you just promise you won’t shoot him tonight?”
“Damn it, Kiln,” Sloane explodes. “Who the fuck did you fuck over in Outlaw’s club? How many times have you been there without me?”
I don’t know what to say. I have no answers. It isn’t going to take him long to put two-and-two together.
“Shouldna left the stupid motherfucker here while you took your bitch a-fuckin-way,” Outlaw says. “Motherfucker and Cash decided to do some brotherly fuckin’ bondin’.”
Surprise widens Cash’s eyes, but he isn’t going to gainsay his president. Cash and I haven’t hung out together recently. However…
However…he knows…judging by the fury darkening his eyes and twisting his face he suddenly gets that this is about Sloane. I don’t know why Outlaw isn’t blurting the truth, but I’m grateful for his discretion.
“Zelda is on her way.” Meggie speaks again. She’s referring to Sloane’s cook, who, apparently, hasn’t returned to work, since Sloane arrived home early. “She’s going to help me, Georgie, and Raine, cook up a big meal for all of you. Death would ruin that.”
I’m on the verge of telling this bitch to sit down and shut the fuck up. However, if I spoke to Megan in such a way, there’d be no talking. I’d be dead in a second.
“Fuck, Megan! Fine. Motherfucker get to fuckin’ breathe another fuckin’ day.”
There’s a collective sigh of relief. I’m too fucking shocked that her wretched wheedling worked to say, or feel, anything.
She beams a smile at him. “Umkay. One other thing.”
This bitch needs to quit while she’s ahead.
“What, Megan? What?” Outlaw demands.
She gazes at him through her lashes. She is a gorgeous woman, but not my type. It isn’t because she just clears five feet, but because she’s a needy little cunt that wouldn’t take a shit with Outlaw’s permission.
Unlike Raine. I grin at the thought.
“Whatever he says, don’t hurt Kiln. Please? Find another way to punish him.”
He gives her a dark look. “I take it you like this fuckin’ motherfucker, too?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know him really well, to say whether I like him or not. But Georgie likes him. What hurts her, hurts me.”
Outlaw looks at her, then to Sloane and, finally, at me. “We talkin’, motherfucker. I’m detainin’ you in your fuckin’ rooms ‘til this taken care of.” He smirks at me. “Cash gonna be your fuckin’ guard.” He glares at Megan. “Happy, lil pain in the ass motherfucker?”
She beams at him. “Quite,” she chirps and flits away.
“You better thank Meggie for the rest of your fucking days, Kiln,” Sloane growls. “If not for her, you’d be dead.”
“If that motherfucker get near my fuckin’ woman, he dead any-fuckin-way,” Outlaw points out. “After the shit he pulled with your bitch, motherfucker wouldn’t be fuckin’ breathin’.”
“I don’t have to thank Megan for anything,” I state. “As far as I’m concerned, this was club business, handled by men.”
“I never took you for a stupid motherfucker, son,” Mortician says with disapproval.
“I’m not disrespecting her,” I argue. Outlaw knows it, too. He hasn’t lunged at me. “She had nothing to do with your decision. The man knows better than to fall for a woman’s manipulation, especially a brainless airhead like her.”
One minute I’m standing and the next minute I glimpse Outlaw, charging at me like a bull before I’m punched so hard, I fly across the room. My body skids into a table of expensive trinkets, barreling through in a barrage of glass and pain, and doesn’t stop until I smack the wall. Dazed, I try to focus. Metal on metal clicks.
A gun is racked, then shoved into my mouth.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck! Get Megan. Quick.” Sloane.
“MEGAN!” Johnnie.
“Prez, now don’t do this,” Mortician coaxes. “Motherfucker too fucking brainless to realize Meggie girl saved his worthless fuckin’ life.”
Outlaw’s hand is shaking. He’s so furious veins are bulging from his neck.
“Christopher! Oh my God, what are you doing?” Megan screeches. As she grabs his hand, he fires the gun. The bullet hits the ceiling. Plaster rains on us, the crumbling sound drowning out Megan’s frightened cry.
He points the gun at me again, but she knocks his hand away once more. The heat of the second bullet touches my ear as it misses me by a millimeter.
“Fuck, Megan!”
Instead of shooting again, Outlaw removes his finger from the trigger and pulls her into his arms. “After you save this motherfucker life, he wanna fuckin’ insult you?”
“Apologize, Kiln, please,” she cries, pushing against her husband with all her weight. She’s only succeeding because he’s allowing her to do it. “Please, please, please.”
“Don’t beg this motherfucker,” Outlaw roars.
“Don’t kill him!” she throws back at him.
“He gotta fuckin’ know he already walkin’ a thin fuckin’ line with my ass. Then he bring you the fuck in it? Say you manipulatin’ me? Call you a airhead? Whether you manipulatin’ me or stupider than a fuckin’ motorcycle chain, ain’t his concern. That’s my fuckin’ business. No motherfucker interferin’ with what you and me got. No motherfucker especially not sayin’ you manipulate me when I love the fuck outta you and enjoy every fuckin’ moment of havin’ you at my fuckin’ side.”
“He didn’t know,” she argues.
“Then a motherfucker shoulda clued him the fuck in. He might be the stupid motherfucker who don’t fuckin’ know what the fuck he got. I ain’t.”
“Leave Raine out of this,” I gasp out, sitting up and struggling to my feet. “She isn’t even in here.”
Megan wheels to face me and her eyes blaze. “Oh, would you please SHUT UP,” she grits to me.
“He’s dead. If I ain’t killin’ him for fuckin’ over my club brother, then I’m fuckin’ him up for you. Case fuckin’ closed, Megan. Now, go.”
Planting her fists on her hips, she stiffens and her blue eyes narrow. “Kill him and you’re locked out of there for the next month. He’s my best friend’s brother-in-law. You can’t kill him just because he insulted me.”
“The fuck I can’t!”
“Fine! Lock-out,” she declares, tosses her hair, glares at him again, and marches away.
“Fuckin’ little bitch!” Outlaw barks and kicks the fuck out of me. Coming for me again, he leans down and grabs me by the scruff of my neck, dragging me to my feet. The gun is aimed at my face. “I ain’t earnin’ no pussy lockout cuz of you, motherfucker.” He’s like a rabid dog. “So when I fuckin’ bury you, she ain’t gonna know I fucked you up. Cuz, motherfucker, you dead.”
He backhands me and I’m sailing through the air again. I wish I would faint. But, fuck no. My body thwacks another wall, jarring every bone inside of me.
“All you motherfuckers, go!” Outlaw orders. “Leave me, Cash, and grave-fuckin-applicant alone.”
They don’t protest. They file out, leaving me at the mercy of a crazy man.
He doesn’t speak as he walks to Cash and punches the fuck out of him, right in the gut. Cash drops to the floor, coughing and sputtering. Outlaw kicks where he punched. The man writhes as Outlaw looms over him.
“How fuckin’ dare you, motherfucker? What the fuck Sloane ever do you that you’d give this motherfucker”—he points to me—“the name and number of motherfuckin’ Sean?”
“I didn’t know, Outlaw,” Cash gasps out, curling into a ball. “I swear. I just fucking put two-and-two together when you said he ran afoul because he’d been spending time with me.”
Outlaw kicks him. “Why the fuck didn’t you ask his fuckin’ ass
?” He kicks him again. “You motherfuckers talkin’ ‘bout me killin’ Sloane brother, when you were helpin’ the motherfucker kill fuckin’ Sloane.” He yanks Cash up by the hair. “That’s fuckin’ betrayal and fuckin’ dishonor.”
Cash raises his hands. “I swear…Jesus…I’m your brother-in-law.”
“For fuckin’ real? Last fuckin’ time my ass fuckin’ checked, you was married to Stretch, not my lil’ sister.”
“She had our baby.”
“Stretch’s baby,” Outlaw reminds him, not calming down a bit.
“She’s pregnant with mine now,” Cash says, a desperate plea in his voice.
“How the fuck you know with both you motherfuckers fuckin’ her?”
“Because we made a pact that Stretch wouldn’t touch her once she got off birth control, until she ended up pregnant. Only me. Stretch and me were willing to live the rest of our lives not knowing who fathered her children. She didn’t want it like that. I want her happy. Do you think I’d fuck her life up, Stretch’s life, by helping Kiln to put a hit out on Sloane, my little sister’s husband? Forget Fee and Stretch for a minute, Sloane’s death would destroy Georgie. He might’ve gone about it the wrong fucking way, but he saved her life. I’d never repay him by wanting him dead. You’ve got to believe me.”
It only takes a moment for Outlaw to decide. He flings Cash away, then faces me. Disgust and dislike clash in his features. He wanted to kill me because of Sloane. Now, I’ve really signed my death warrant after I insulted Megan.
He walks to me, puts his foot in the region of my ribs and then bears all his weight down. Craaacccckkk! Creeeaaakkk! Pop! Sounds my ribs make as they are broken.
Pain fires up my nerve endings and I scream.
He circles me, gun back in his hand. “I have no fuckin’ mercy for a motherfucker who wanna fuck up a man like Sloane. A good motherfucker. A loyal motherfucker. Al-fuckin-ways thinkin’ ‘bout his family.” He pauses to kick me. “Al-fuckin-ways talkin’ ‘bout your fuckin’ antics. He think you the meanest, funniest motherfucker a-fuckin-live.”
Another kick, this time to my hip. I howl. I thought Sloane’s ass-kicking was brutal. I haven’t had my ass beat until Outlaw does it with the assistance of his steel-toed motorcycle boots.
Phoenix Rising Rock Band: The Series Page 111
