No Man's Land: A Rebel Wayfarers MC & Incoherent MC Crossover Novel

by MariaLisa deMora

  Instead, he flashed her a smile and restated more firmly, “I’m going with you.”

  She fixed him with the sternest look she could muster. “If you rip my stitches out, I’ll be testy.”

  Her scold earned another grin. Hitch’s lips pulled sideways like he wanted to say something but was holding back. Whatever.

  Her brother would have insisted on the same if it were his friends lying dead. No use arguing with him.

  The bruising on Hitch’s torso was extensive, but he didn’t give any indication of pain when he shifted to dangle his legs over the side of the table. Rampage came to his side as Hitch’s feet slipped to the floor. He wavered, gripped Ram’s shoulder, and grunted once he looked like he was steady on his feet.

  Talia found a strange expression of resignation on Ewell’s face. She studied him, trying unsuccessfully to determine what it meant.

  “Ready.” Hitch curled his arm around hers, sandwiching Talia’s elbow against his side as they passed the trio standing by the door. Twisted stared at her with a puzzled look, broken when he caught her gaze on him. A brilliant smile split his thick beard. So at odds to the anger and rage still in his eyes, it made Talia press closer to Hitch.

  In the hallway, Ram led them deeper into the warren that made up the Jailbreakers clubhouse. Talia had been here often enough to know her way around. She knew where family and non-members were allowed and the places off-limits to anyone but officers. The direction they were headed was one of the latter, and she hemmed and hawed internally before quietly asking, “Are you sure this is where…”

  Ram nodded. “Yeah, our men are back here. Earlier, Sparks told me how to find them.”

  Well then.

  “What’s your name, angel?” That was Hitch, and Talia found his gaze fixed on her, not where they were walking. “Sparks, the president here, he called you Talia? Is that your name?” She nodded. Something flashed in his eyes, and his jaw tightened as if with pain before he asked, “What’s he to you?”

  “Are you hurting? This was a bad idea.” She tried to stop him, but the stubborn man wouldn’t be swayed. “Hitch.”

  “What is he to you?” His words came out with tiny spaces between, a breath, no more, and it made her look at his face. What she’d taken for pain was anger, which surprised her.

  “Sparks?” He nodded, and she tipped her head, unsure what he was truly asking. She decided to give him the truth. “He’s… Ewell’s my brother.”

  “Your brother?” His voice was laced with disbelief, so strong she was compelled to reassure him.

  “Yeah, Sparks is my big brother.” He chuckled, and she echoed it with a nervous laugh. “Why?”

  “We’re here.” Rampage interrupted them as he paused before a wide set of doors.

  She’d never noticed before, but the hallways and doors on this side of the clubhouse were all wider than normal for a house. Rampage had walked ahead of them, but if he’d needed to stay beside Hitch, he could have, with ease. Same for the door in front of them. Given she was pretty sure they’d had to carry Hitch inside when they arrived, she understood the reasoning. She didn’t like it, but she understood.

  Hitch’s grip on her arm tightened as Rampage opened the doors.

  The smell hit her first.

  While the air conditioning had been turned full-blast in a clear effort to delay the inevitable process of death, it couldn’t be halted, not in a crude morgue like this. Hitch made a guttural sound, and she sympathized with his distress. The three bodies rested on folding tables in the middle of the room. Talia was glad to see enough space had been left between the tables so she wouldn’t have trouble moving around them to conduct her examinations.

  She twisted her arm, intent on releasing herself, but found the strength of Hitch’s grip unbreakable. He gazed at one of the dead men, expression distant while he stared fixedly at the body.

  “Hitch?” His head jerked at her soft call, and his eyes swung to look at her. Wet with unshed tears, they were focused and pained. “I need to—” She didn’t finish her explanation before he’d released her, flinging her wrist from him as if the connection burned him. “Are you okay?”

  “No, I’m not.” The muscles in his throat flexed and bunched as he swallowed hard. “I fuckin’ am not. Never be again. Trammer’s my brother, see? Those are my brothers, and it hurts like God’s fist in my chest. But you got a job to do, and mine is to stay outta your way.” He thumbed over his shoulder to the wall where chairs were drawn in a line. “I’ll be over there. You need anything…” Hitch hesitated before he reached out and ran the backs of his knuckles down her cheek in a touch that was electric against her skin. “Just say the word, angel.”

  He made his way to a chair, unsteady on his feet. Hitch sat slowly, the movements carefully guarding his side, and she glanced at the bandage under his cut to find it still a pristine white. He was as well as she could make him, and given the arguments he’d ignored about taking it easy, he’d be as good as he allowed himself to be.

  Taking a shallow breath, she turned away and faced those three tables again.

  Time to get to work.

  ***

  Talia

  “What?” She startled and sat upright, palm scrubbing across her face as she blinked into Hitch’s blue eyes. “Are you okay?”

  He smiled, and that expression, plus the heat in his gaze, swirled all through her body, tingles running rampant along every inch of skin. She refused to glance down to see if her nipples were as hard as they felt, but from the attentive interest in Hitch’s eyes, he’d already noted her reaction to him. Every single time.

  “Yeah, Tee. I’m good.”

  Hitch had started calling her the nickname on the second day. The Jailbreakers were still on what Ewell called a lockdown, which basically meant everyone attached to the club was jammed into the limited number of available rooms. A few of the IMC members had stayed on-site too, including her uncooperative patient.

  After their first joint trip up the hallway, he’d accompanied her everywhere he could between long, restful periods of sleep. His stride slow but steady, he’d trailed after her as he kept up his quiet but persistent questioning. Talia had no doubt that Hitch now possessed a full and thorough history of not only her but her family. The man was stubborn, and he was imbued with that certain breed of tough she’d only seen with Ewell and his men. She’d caught her brother watching them now and again, his expression always a mix of amusement and irritation.

  Being around Hitch was no hardship, and she’d told herself it helped to keep an eye on her patient. It didn’t matter what they were doing, Hitch made it better. Cutting up vegetables for dinner? He’d managed to tell a clean but suggestive story even the kids found amusing. Changing out his bandages? Depending on the audience, his stories were a lot more suggestive, and a lot less clean, but Talia found his crudeness wasn’t a turnoff. Not at all.

  “What do you need, Hitch?” She’d been curled up asleep on a big chair someone had pulled into her treatment room. Something poked her hip when she moved, and she realized it was the key her brother had given her. “How’d you get in?” I know I locked that door. She had meds in here, and security was second nature, even with her brother’s men.

  “It’s dinnertime.” He moved, and she saw a tray balanced on the exam table. “I brought you something to eat.”

  “That’s sweet.”

  The door slammed open, rebounding against the wall. Hitch was between her and the door in a smooth movement, and she had to look around him to see Ewell in the doorframe.

  “Talia.” Ewell held his hand out commandingly. “Come on.”

  Hitch tightened his fingers around hers, and the tactile connection was the first realization Talia had that she was gripping his hand. She stepped up beside him, stopping when he applied pressure in his grip against the movement. Ewell and Hitch were locked into a staring contest.

  “Hitch brought me some food.” Hitch’s fingers squeezed hers in response to her w
ords. “Did you need me, Ewell?”

  After another long, uncomfortable moment of silence between the two men, Ewell said, “Don’t fuck up.”

  “Wha—”

  “I won’t.” Hitch had cut her off with his answer.

  Ewell looked at her finally, his expression fierce. “I fuckin’ love you, little sis.” Backing out, he slammed the door, the racket echoing in the small room.

  Well if that’s not the most confusing thing.

  I Could be Persuaded

  Hitch

  It had only taken two days to find out who the cowardly bastards were who’d ambushed myself and my brothers. Pissed me off it took even that long. If I’d had more than half an unmuddled second to think, I could have come up with the name myself.

  Vicar’s Wrath, a longtime IMC enemy. They were the cosmic cockroaches of the club world, having been put down as an organization twice now, rebounding with fake patches and a faker brotherhood.

  Dyno had shoved a chair my way earlier, his muttered message of “Talia” enough of a reason for me to accept it, and I sat forwards now, elbows to my knees as I stared at the images projected onto the screen.

  I’d never realized the pain of being left behind. Even if necessary given my injuries, it hurt being cut out of the action I could see going down. I’d roped Dyno into running the command center from the back room of the Jailbreakers clubhouse, since both clubs were involved in our retaliation play.

  We’d also hooked up with Myron, a tech genius from a northern tier club to which we had ties, and adding the Rebel Wayfarers assets behind ours meant even if I’d been relegated to the rear guard, I still got to watch and listen. Myron and Dyno had drones positioned around the farmhouse we’d identified as the Vicar’s base of operations, with twelve camera views on a giant TV mounted to the wall.

  Turned out Graceless had history with one of theirs, reaching more than a decade into the past. Took a black heart to hold onto bullshit for so long. As much as we’d like to just wipe them out, it was unlikely the entirety of their membership was culpable, so our targets had been isolated and identified using security footage from the liquor store. Every one of our brothers heading in had been thoroughly briefed on what to do if one of the eight were encountered. Yeah, theirs hadn’t just been a surprise attack but also eight men against four, and one woman.

  None of us had stood a chance.

  Coming to the realization that, except for Graceless, the rest of us had been incidental damage felt weird.

  I mean, come on. If I was going to be stabbed and shot, I wanted it to at least be because of something I’d done. Assholes.

  There was abrupt movement on half the cameras, and I stared hard at the tiny squares of dark and bright. Heat signatures of bikes were coming down the drive towards the clubhouse. The other half of the cameras came to life as red and orange blobs—our men, my brothers—boiled out of the gloom surrounding the house.

  An endless twenty minutes later, it was over. Thank God the numbers were in our favor this time, which meant we had exactly the result we’d wanted. Zero injuries on our side, and eight cancerous tumors surgically excised from their fake-as-fuck organization.

  I leaned back in the chair and took in the view. On screen were our brothers. Standing around, back-slapping, and no doubt hooting loudly at the win. Standing, breathing—living.

  “Is it over?” Talia’s voice came a moment before her hand rested on my shoulder. I nodded, not saying anything, liking her touch too much. That same connection I’d felt before resonated through me at full strength, and I fought against leaning sideways so I could press up against her. This desire sweeping through me for more than her touch was unsettling. In my life I fucked and walked—I didn’t do whatever this was. Still, I knew, after only these few days, she was necessary to me. Talia soothed me in ways I didn’t recognize, couldn’t put a name to if I’d tried, and goddamn I wanted her.

  “Is everyone okay? Sparks?” Anger and unreasonable jealousy sliced through me at her murmured questions. Of course she wasn’t here to check on me, wasn’t here because she felt even a small part of this immense pull. She was here to check on her cockblocking brother.

  The dry click of my swallow echoed in my ears. “Yeah, everyone’s good.” What I didn’t say—and wouldn’t voice to her—was that the eight cooling bodies would soon be carted out and placed into various vehicles, headed towards their final destinations. Listening to Dyno work through the logistics of disposal had been eye-opening—I’d never realized how much of his job was spent dealing with the aftermath of a confrontation like this. The man was a master. “Sparks is just there.” I pointed to the lower right camera, showing Talia the yellow and orange of where he stood next to Twisted, bright red outlines of two men kneeling in front of them. “He’s good.”

  Her relieved sigh had me feeling like an asshole about my flare of jealousy. The man’s her brother for God’s sake.

  Talia moved, and I glanced to see her looking down at me, eyes narrowed. “How are you doing, Hitch?” I started to shrug and stopped when the pain woke in my side. “What would it take to get you to go to see a real doctor?”

  “I thought you were a doc?” I was teasing, trying to lighten the mood, surprised at the dark look she shot my direction. “Kidding. I know you’re a damn good EMT, and in my opinion, probably better than half the docs in the county.” My borrowed wardrobe was comfortable, if unfamiliar, and I rubbed my fingers lightly over the shirt camouflaging the bandage around my middle. She’d changed it out every day, making sounds about the stab wound I still hadn’t seen. “You did right by me, that’s for sure.”

  “If you won’t see a doc, then could I talk you into lying down somewhere and resting? If it’s over, finally over, you can rest.” Her palm pressed to my forehead was cool and glided like silk against my skin as she laid a soft touch against my cheek, then my neck. “You’re hotter than you were before.”

  “That’s what all the girls say,” I teased, and her expressive face molded into a mask. “Hey,” I said, reaching up to trap her hand against my face, “I kid.” I flicked a gaze at the views from the cameras Dyno still had on the house and called out, “We’re done here, right, Dyno?” He lifted a middle finger I took as my permission to withdraw. I studied Talia carefully as I bargained with her. “I’ll go lie down if you rest with me. I heard from everyone how you’ve been working to take care of my ass. I’m a gentleman—” She snorted, and I faked shock at her reaction, happy to see her pretty mouth twist in an effort to keep from smiling. “I am a gentleman, and my health is important to me. As far as I’m concerned, it’s still in your hands. I think it’s only right you keep watch over me while I rest. I mean—” I forgot and tried again to shrug, wincing as the pain shot through me like a return of the blade. “Dammit.” After a careful breath in, I continued, “I mean, it’s only right you make sure I’m going to be okay, right?”

  Talia stared at me for a long minute, flicked her gaze to the screen where four men were now on their feet, signaling the beginning of the true end of the conflict, and looked back to me. She wavered visibly, tipped her head back as she rolled the muscles of her shoulders, and nodded. “Okay.” Nose scrunched up, she shyly admitted, “I don’t stay here, ever. I know a lot of the guys have rooms, but I don’t. That’s not me.”

  My chest swelled at her admission. In one fell swoop, she’d told me she didn’t hook up with the club members and wasn’t part of their day-to-day but was willing to change her ways. For me. “I got us covered.” I reached up, and she took my hand, surprising me with her strength as she pulled me to my feet. I pretended to sway, and as I’d hoped, she stepped closer and wrapped one of those wiry arms around my waist. The heat of her blazed through me, burning away the last vestiges of my caution.

  As we strolled up the hallway, I watched the expression on her face flicker from concern to uncertainty, and then inexplicably to sadness.

  “Whatcha thinkin’?” My question made her glance up, a
flash of her beautiful eyes before they were again downcast. “There’s something goin’ on in that smart noggin of yours. Share?” I steered us into the room where I’d been staying. Without releasing my arm from around her shoulders, I thumbed the lock after I closed it. “Spill, Talia. Confession is good for the soul.”

  Rolling her eyes at my lame attempt at humor, she tipped her head up and locked her gaze on me. “I envy Ewell…Sparks. He’s got this whole big family to lean on, something he built out of nothing.”

  “He’s your family.” I adjusted my hold so she stood in front of me. Arms around her waist, I gave her a squeeze. “You make it sound like you’re alone. You’re not. If there’s anything I’ve learned about the man, it’s that he’d do anything for you.”

  “Yeah.” She gave me a half smile shaded by a hint of melancholy. “He’s good like that.”

  “Nobody else around? No one waitin’ on you to hie yourself home?” I was fishing and knew it, but she bit in a big way.

  “Nope. I don’t work again for another night, so no one to miss me.” She blinked slowly and scoffed far back in her throat. “And doesn’t that just sound like I’m whining? Sorry.” My rigid grasp kept her from backing away, and her eyes lifted, our gazes meeting with an almost physical snap. “Hitch, let me go. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You’re not going to hurt me, Tee.” I bent closer, moving slowly, giving her time to protest, willing to talk more if she needed. “You never could.” Our faces were close enough that her every exhalation was a warm gust across my lips. “And there’ll never be a time when I’ll hurt you.” Her hands rested against my chest, fingers fisting around the edges of my vest. “I never would.”

  Our lips met in the kind of soft caress we’d shared earlier, the sweetest glide of flesh on flesh as her chin tipped exactly as it should. She was the first to make a sound, a desperate moan of desire that set me on fire. I cradled her face in my hands, pulling her closer so I could devour her mouth, spearing my tongue between her lips to press deep. The decadent taste of her was the perfect mix of sweet and savory, instantly addictive as my tongue dueled with hers. She sucked hard, and I groaned down her throat, hips thrusting against her belly as my cock sought friction.