by K. L. Savage
I’m shaking. I can’t form words. “That was my dad. I…”
“I know. I know. Fuck. Okay, this is a mess. I need to go check on the guy he shot.”
“No! Knives, please,” I whisper and try to hold onto him, but he kisses my inner wrist before running to the middle of the barn.
“Holy shit, Maximo. What the fuck did you get yourself into?”
There isn’t a reply.
I should have known my dad would come back for me. I should have known he would come back to ruin my life the moment I found happiness. And if I know my father, I know he will kill anyone and everyone in his way to get what he wants.
I’ve brought the Kings more trouble, something they don’t deserve. Knives will be a target now; everyone will be in danger because of me.
Maybe I should disappear, but the thought of leaving hurts more than death. I’d rather my father kill me than take me away from the home I’ve built here.
And just when I thought I was living the dream…
My monster had to come emerge from the dark.
Nothing can surprise me much. I’ve experienced pretty much everything there is to see and feel that would drive a man to kill himself, but being in a remote, abandoned barn with Mary and having the best night of my life? That surprised me.
Drinking with her surprised me. The depth of how much I want her that surprises me.
Finding Maximo Moretti in an abandoned barn, shot twice in the shoulder and once in the thigh? That surprises me.
And knowing it was Mary’s father who pulled the trigger? That fucking shocks me.
Two men that have a fucking death warrant on their heads.
“Maximo? Long time, no see.” I pat his sweaty face, and his eyes open. “Yeah, your injuries aren’t deadly, so don’t play the dead card on me.” I slap his face again, and a painful wheeze leaves his chest. “Where have you been, buddy? You know who has been looking for you?”
His eyes snap open then, and he gulps when he knows exactly who I am talking about. “I—I have my reasons. I swear, I’d never hurt any of the ladies who belong to the Kings. You have to understand—”
I wrap my hand around his throat and pull him up by his neck. Maximo fucking Moretti. The man Tongue has been salivating for after what he did, not only pinning Skirt and him in the same ring but for holding a knife to Daphne’s throat. Tongue is a maniac, a fucking unstable, sick, and twisted man, but no one fucks with his woman.
“We require payment for your actions,” I whisper, letting my breath cross his face so hopefully he can smell the fucking threat in the air. Once I get him back to the clubhouse, I’m going to make sure we drain every bit of information from him.
He turned his back on the wrong men.
“Knives?” Mary asks from our dark corner, our spot, and disappointment rears its head when I realize our fucking moment is ruined because, for some reason, her father and Maximo decided to bust in here. Out of all places they could fucking ruin, they had to ruin this.
Mary and I already don’t have the most stable relationship without jumping down each other’s throats. We made progress. More than progress. I got to see her come, and I wanted to see that a hundred times over and more.
“Get dressed, Hellraiser.”
“Mary? As in Mary St—”
I squeeze Maximo’s throat and sneer, “You don’t get to fucking ask questions about her. Do I make myself clear?”
“Crystal,” Maximo says, groaning when I dig my knee into his shoulder.
On purpose.
Mary comes out from behind the old furniture, dressed in her tight jeans and T-shirt with her leather jacket in hand, then tosses me my clothes. They are dry, luckily, since it’s been a few hours, and the storm has seemed to pass with just a mist of rain peppering the metal roof.
“I need a hospital,” Maximo struggles to say.
I lift my knee off his shoulder and get dressed. Mary stays away from Maximo, leaning against the wall of the barn, right underneath a damn hook that looks like it held pigs or cows for someone to butcher. After I tug on my shirt, I walk over, move her to the left because all I can think about is the hook falling and slicing through her neck, just like my sister. I kiss the top of her head, hating that the happiness we shared is now gone.
I want to kill Maximo for ruining my goddamn night.
Her eyes are red and swollen, her cheeks flushed with fear, and tears fill her beautiful chocolate eyes. I want to kill Maximo for making her cry, too, and her dad.
Oh, I really want her dad’s blood on my ninja stars.
“I’m going to fix this. You’re going to be safe. I don’t want you to be scared, okay?” I tell Mary, needing her to see that I’m going to protect her. She has nothing to worry about. Her father isn’t going to lay his hands on her again, not as long as I am alive.
And history has proven, killing me is not easy.
Maximo tries to get up by placing his body on his hands and knees. “Oh, I don’t fucking think so.” I slam my foot into his back, and he shouts as his body bends, and he falls to the ground. “You don’t get to try and get out of here. You’re coming back with me.” I grip him by the back of his hair and yank his head off the floor, hoping he is uncomfortable. I could break his neck right now if I really wanted to.
Tongue would cut out my tongue and feed it to Happy if I did. This is his retribution, but I’m allowed to be angry for my brother, and I’m allowed to be angry that Maximo is friends with Mary’s father.
Nothing good can come out of that.
“What are you doing here?” I ask him.
“I live here.”
I push his head against the ground, my fingers twitching for a ninja star, but I don’t have any on me. I don’t have my backup gun either.
What a fucking shitshow.
“You aren’t exactly in the position to get smart with me. You have no idea how deep of shit you are in with the Kings. After everything we have done for you and Moretti, your own fucking brother, you turn your back on us.”
“I’m doing this for my brother!” he hisses, but whimpers when I push my knee into the exit wound on his back.
I want to know everything, but it’s pointless to get the story out of him now when I know he will go to the playroom at the clubhouse with a few of the guys, and they will get every drop of information out of him. “What’s in this barn? Why is Preacher Man here, huh? Didn’t know you were the religious type.”
His eyes roll to the back of his head, and for a minute, I think he is pretending, so I kick him for the hell of it. But he doesn’t make a sound. He’s completely passed out. “Damn it. They always pass out right before I need information.” I turn around to see Mary folding up the blankets and making sure the fire is out; she’s still crying, and her hands are trembling, but she’s trying to pull herself together.
I want her to fall apart.
I want her to realize she doesn’t have to be strong anymore, or runaway, or feel caged. She can fall, and I’ll catch her.
And I’ll put her back together again
Mary isn’t the kind of woman that can be hidden. She needs her freedom, and I can be that for her.
“How are we going to get back to the clubhouse?” Mary asks, looping her arms through her leather jacket when she shivers.
“Mafia boss has to have a phone on him, right?” I flip an unconscious Maximo over on his back and see blood spreading over his suit and dripping on the floor.
Uh.
He might be dying.
And I couldn’t care less.
I search his pockets and pull out his phone and dial Reaper’s number. As it rings, I glance around the barn and wish we didn’t have to leave. This place was a little getaway for us; it healed me in some ways and opened me in others.
And it’s ruined because if a man like Maximo and her father are here, it means this is a place that holds bad intent.
I won’t bring Mary to a place that is a meeting ground for men like this.<
br />
“Maximo,” Reaper answers with a dark growl. “You better hope I don’t find you because when I do, I’m going to rip your heart from your chest, crush it with my fist, then shove it down your throat.”
I’m really fucking glad I’m not Maximo right now. “It’s me, Reaper. It’s Knives.”
“Knives?” he sounds shocked, and the threat in his voice vanishes and is replaced with confusion. “What the fuck are you doing with Maximo’s phone? And where the hell have you been? The guys have been trying to call you.”
I really need a phone. “I don’t have my phone yet. It’s been a hectic twenty-four hours. Mary is with me—”
“I thought she was in jail.”
“I picked her up yesterday. My bike blew up. The tornado happened. We are in an abandoned barn off Route 50. Maximo is here.”
A rumble comes from the other end, and there is a flurry of sounds in the background behind him. “You’re going to have to tell me what happened in more detail later. We are coming to get you, don’t fucking move, and don’t you dare lose Maximo.”
“We have more issues to worry about than him, Reaper. Shit is brewing, and I’ll tell you everything later. Bring my ninja stars.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t have them, and I feel naked,” I say, suddenly feeling defensive. I crack my neck, annoyed that I even have to defend myself.
“I should have known something like this would happen. Seer called me and told me to tell you that you’re an idiot. What’s that deal with that?”
A loud bang pulls me away from the conversation, and I see the bedframe fell over, and Mary mouths, ‘I’m sorry’ to me.
“Another long story,” I say, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Can you just get here, please?”
“Yeah. Be there in ten.”
The line goes dead, and I stuff the phone in my back pocket. When I stand, I try and find something about this place that rubs me the wrong way, but it’s just a barn. I stare into every corner, evaluating the stacks of hay, but nothing stands out to me besides a bunch of cobwebs and the musty smell of horse and rain.
Reins hang on the hook against the beam, and I step over Maximo, yanking the leather straps off. I flick the cobwebs away and flip Maximo on his stomach, pull his arms behind his back, and tie the reins around his wrists into a knot I know he can’t get out of. When I’m satisfied, I take a step away.
“They are on their way,” I say to Mary, who is still in the same spot as she was in before.
“Good.”
I don’t like how she said that. I don’t like that she’s putting distance between us. She won’t even look at me in the eye. I’m about to show why we fit when a dozen Harleys grumble outside. This time, I do give her space, because I’m not sure how to be with her in front of the guys. Or maybe I do.
I shouldn’t care.
But I’m in unknown territory here. She doesn’t seem like she wants me around, but if I act the same, I’m damned. If I out us to the world before she’s ready, I’m damned.
What the fuck? Relationship business sucks.
I expect a knock on the door.
I should have known better.
The door is kicked down, and Tongue is standing there in the entryway, his shaggy hair hanging in front of his face and his fists clenched at his sides. He has a knife in his hand and the urge to kill in his eyes.
Hay particles and dust zoom around us, and Tongue looks from left to right, staring at Mary for a few seconds before stepping inside the barn, breaking the downed door even further as he walks across it. The wood creaks and splinters from his weight.
“Tongue! Don’t you dare kill him. I want answers.” Reaper comes into the doorway next, rubbing his chin when he sees Maximo tied up on the ground.
“I want his tongue.”
“That isn’t shocking.” I pat Tongue’s shoulder with my hand, and heat is radiating off him in waves.
Tongue kneels on the ground, snarling like a beast, ready to rip the man’s head off. He digs his knife into the ground and drags it in the dirt and straw. His fingers hold the blade tightly, and he doesn’t look away from Maximo. He doesn’t blink.
He barely even breathes as he holds onto Reaper’s order. Tongue wants more than Maximo’s ability to speak.
He wants his life.
“Load him up, Bullseye,” Reaper says, turning his cheek to his shoulder as if he is talking to someone behind him.
Bullseye comes through the doorway next, twirling a dart in his hand, which makes me wish for my stars. Bullseye must have seen the longing on my face because he pulls two stars out of his pocket, and they gleam in the early morning light.
So pretty.
He flings them in the air, and I catch them without hesitation. One star is one of my newer ones, but the other is one I haven’t touched since I made it.
“Sorry, we were in a hurry, and I grabbed what I could,” Bullseye says, jerking Maximo up to his feet. “What did you do?”
“He passed out. That’s not my fault.”
“The bullets. Doc needs to—”
“Leave them. His pain is far from over.” Reaper steps out of the way when Bullseye throws Maximo over his shoulder with a grunt and walks outside.
“Maybe tie him to the back of the truck and drag his ass home,” Tongue says, perking up when he mentions the options. His eyes stop frowning, and the darkness in his head spins with the idea. He is probably imagining what Maximo would look like rolling around on the ground, losing limbs, becoming bloody. He groans, closing his eyes and licking his lips. He grips his cock, which is hard, and I jerk my eyes away to stare at the ceiling, then drop them to Mary. For the first time in an hour, she has a smile on her face because my discomfort amuses her.
“Stop getting off on getting your revenge, Tongue,” I mutter and stalk my way toward Mary. I need to close this distance between us. Now that I’ve had her, I don’t want us to go back to the way we were before.
Why fight something that comes so easy and feels so good?
“I can’t help it. The thought of him dying is turning me on. I need Daphne,” he says without shame, without blinking that he just admitted that death makes his cock hard.
“Well, stop your moaning, literally, and let’s go home. I have a feeling it is going to be a long night. Bullseye? Tie him up in the playroom. Knives and Mary, you’re going to Church when we get home.”
Ah, what a horrible choice of words.
“I hate church,” Mary says low, so only I can hear.
“You can worship the ground I walk on later, then,” I tease her, hoping to make her smile.
“Like I’d even want to get near your feet. Gross,” she jokes back, and my chest flickers with happiness. I had hoped the teasing nature wouldn’t go away in our relationship, just the fighting.
When everyone walks out the door, Reaper backtracks and tosses me a set of keys. “Bullseye is leaving his bike for you to take back. I’ll call up Pocus and Seer and see if they can’t get a price on a customized one down in NOLA for you. Their hogs are beauts,” he says, just as I catch the keys in the air. “We saw your bike. It’s fucking toasted. Nothing was salvageable, Knives. I’m sorry.”
“It’s all good, Prez. Shit happens.”
“Story of our fucking lives,” he says, stomping outside in the muck the rain left behind.
Before we leave, I lay my hand on Mary’s shoulders and notice she is looking away from me again. Her lip is trembling, and she keeps wiping the tears that fall on her cheeks. I want to fix this. I don’t want her to cry again. It… it makes me feel things I haven’t felt in a very long time. I doubt this will be the last time too.
I bet every day I’ll wake up and experience an emotion that has been in hibernation for twenty years. She’s awakening me from a coma, and I nearly don’t recognize the world I’m seeing or myself, but I like it.
That’s new to me too. Liking something. I’ve been so focused on rage and harm, so lost in viol
ence, that I’ve forgotten how to be.
“You okay?”
“I don’t know,” she answers honestly. “It’s not a good thing if my dad is here, Knives. He isn’t here to talk about God.”
“I know.” I wrap my arms around her and pull her close, kissing her forehead as if I do it every day. The other day, I wanted to tape her mouth shut, and now the thought of silence brings pressure to my chest.
But if Preacher Man wants to talk about God, I’ll make sure that before he leaves Vegas, he gets a one on one meeting with the man upstairs.
No one is going to take what’s mine.
And if they do, it’s nothing a ninja star to the throat can’t fix.
“Tell me everything, start to finish. I don’t want you to leave anything out. Mary, sit down, please.”
My ass hits the seat so hard, I slide backward. I would have hit the wall if Knives’ arm didn’t stop me. Reaper makes me nervous. He always has. He can be the reason why I stay or go. He holds the power.
Power can be a scary thing when it is in the wrong hands.
“You’re okay, Mary. No one is in trouble. I need details before we go downstairs.”
“Down…”
“Don’t worry; you don’t have to go and see what is about to be done—”
“—I know that Knives, but I can handle it,” I snap.
“I didn’t say you couldn’t,” he defends himself, digging his fingers into the table.
“I’m sorry. I’m stressed out. I shouldn’t take it out on you. I don’t want us to fight.” I find his hand and grab onto it.
“Aw, you two kissed and made up. I knew that would happen after what happened at Christmas. Bullseye and Tank owe me fifty bucks.”
“You’ve been betting on us?” Knives pulls out a ninja star and slams it into the table. I think he is about to throw one at Reaper he is so mad. “No one could have told me what was happening between us? I figured she was just a pain in my ass—”
“—Hey,” I say, pretending to take offense. He’s right. And for all I know, he is still going to be a pain in my ass.
