Wild

by Winters, KB

  “Send them downstairs,” I told Ford.

  Women always thought showing up at the club would get my attention and plenty of them went to great, kinky lengths to get it.

  “No can do. Not a member and not a guest.” Ford’s tone was all business and that put me on edge.

  “On my way,” I told him and squared my shoulders as I climbed the staircase and headed for the exit. I hoped it was Rocco because I could use a face to pound the shit out of right about now. I hadn’t seen or heard from Chance, and I didn’t expect to, but dammit I really wanted to.

  “Ladies.” I tipped my imaginary hat at three women who’d just entered wearing little more than lingerie.

  “Dayum! I hope to see you later,” one of them said, making the other two giggle like schoolgirls.

  When they were inside and headed toward one of the bars, I stepped out and looked to Ford. And then…

  “Chance? What are you doing here?”

  She nibbled her lip in a sexy yet vulnerable move she would never do if she knew how unsure she looked.

  “I told him I would wait until you were done.”

  I looked to Ford and he nodded, confirming her words.

  “Okay well I’m here now. What’s up?”

  Ford cleared his throat. “Fifteen minutes until closing if you want to stand outside and keep an eye on anyone who shouldn’t be driving home?”

  I made a note to myself to get the kid a big bottle of his favorite tequila when he officially became one of us.

  “Thanks man. Come on.” We stepped just outside the doors and around the corner, giving me a good view of both parking areas.

  “What’s up?”

  “I don’t know how much you know about my club, the Lords, but lately our numbers are down.”

  “Yeah, I heard you had some shit with the Mexican Devils.” They’d set their club house on fire too. “You handled them well.”

  “Thanks. But we still lost two brothers, and our numbers are too low to be as effective as we need.”

  I nodded, listening out of curiosity because the Reckless Bastards weren’t all that large either.

  “What are you getting at?”

  “An alliance of sorts,” she began, and I listened to her talk about helping each other keep our small towns safe.

  “We’ve found that keeping the shit out of town means they look the other way when they can.”

  “Us too,” I agreed. I watched more and more members spill into the parking lot, making plans for later tonight or saying goodbye until next time they were ready for a good fuck

  “My Prez, Curt, is interested if your Prez is too. It could help us both until we have bigger numbers.”

  It was a damn good idea, and it would’ve been nice to have more numbers to have Peaches’ back, or to handle that old Irish motherfucker that brought Hennessy to Hardtail Ranch.

  “I’ll have to talk to my Prez, Gunnar, about it first, but I’ll let you know.”

  “Really?”

  I nodded and licked my lips as I pushed off the building and leaned in real close.

  “Yeah, and I’m flattered you’d go through all this just to have me again.”

  She gave me a long hard stare and then burst out laughing. “The dick is good, but this is business, Slayer.”

  “Business that’ll allow us to keep fucking if we want to?”

  “Like I said, mutually beneficial.” She grinned and licked her lips and dammit, I couldn’t help it, I leaned in for a taste myself. Her lips were lush and plump, tasted like that fucking fruity gum she liked to chew.

  “It’s been too fucking long,” I growled against her lips. She leaned into me, flung her arms around my neck and purred.

  “Not too long. Your mouth was just on me. This morning. In the shower.”

  I growled and pulled her closer, deepening the kiss, but Chance pulled back and I frowned. “What the hell?”

  She nodded to the parking lot. “Aren’t you still working?”

  Only two cars were still in the lot and one belonged to Ford.

  “Shit. See what you do to me woman?”

  She was a hella distraction, dammit, one I couldn’t afford. Maybe this damn alliance would be what I needed to work her out of my system.

  “What do I do to you Slayer?” She pressed against me and jumped back when the front door banged open.

  Ford and Saint walked out first and Hazel came out last, locking the doors and setting the alarm. Tomorrow a cleaning crew would come in and work their magic and we’d come in to change it all up once again.

  “You still here?”

  I nodded at Saint’s question and ignored the smirk on his face.

  “Helping Ford out here. Only sober drivers pulled out. You know who’s car that is?” I pointed a thumb over my shoulder just as a gunshot rang out, echoing in the air. We fell to the ground instinctively, me and Ford anyway. Saint fell on top of Hazel and that was when I heard a scream. A woman’s scream.

  “Chance!”

  “Shit. Shit. I’m hit,” she groaned and fell to the ground. I was at her side in an instant, my hand over the blood spreading out on the left side of her midsection.

  “Shooter. By. White. Car.”

  “White car,” I yelled out and applied more pressure to her wound. I heard the footsteps more than saw them or were aware of them, but I knew Ford and Saint were armed. They would handle whoever was crazy enough to shoot at the Reckless Bastards.

  “Ella!”

  I looked up at the voice and saw a familiar face.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  It was Chance’s ex, Leon. The fucker who shot her.

  “I’ll kill you, piece of shit!” I lunged at him, but Chance’s lightweight grip on my hand stopped me.

  “We got ’em,” Ford said, both he and Saint had their guns trained on the asshole. Hazel, I guessed was calling in backup.

  “Ella, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shoot you baby, I didn’t.” There was no doubt that his emotions were real, but that didn’t change a damn thing.

  “You. Fucking. Shot. Me.” Her words came out on harsh, difficult breaths. The pain and blood loss affecting her.

  “I meant to shoot this asshole with his hands all over you! You’re mine baby, can’t you see we belong together?”

  She shook her head, skin pale and sweaty. “We. Don’t. Leon.”

  “Of course, I fucking changed. I killed kids, Ella Mae. Kids! You know what that does to a man?”

  The gun in his hand flung wildly, but for now he wasn’t aiming it at anyone.

  “I know. Tried to be there. Resented me.”

  “You became VP of MY fucking club. What else was I supposed to do?”

  “Support. Me.”

  His shoulders fell at her words, and Leon nodded. “I’m sorry baby. For everything. Forgive me?”

  “Leave.” Her breathing was coming in shallow, and she was losing too much blood.

  “Come with me, Ella. We can start over some place new. Just the two of us.”

  She smiled, and shook her head. “Kill. Him.”

  The hope in Leon’s eyes faded, and he lifted the gun.

  “Put it down,” Saint shouted, gun aimed at Leon’s chest.

  “You’ll kill me anyway,” he said and put the barrel under his chin. He pulled the trigger and fell to the ground.

  When I turned back, Chance’s eyes were closed, and I hoped for her sake, she had passed out before seeing that motherfucking coward die.

  Chapter Twenty

  Ella Mae

  “You want to talk about this shit now? Right now?”

  I didn’t know who the angry man posing the question was, but his deep and growly voice was the first thing I heard when I woke up. In a semi-panic. I knew some shit had gone down because the last thing I remember was pressing up against Slayer’s big hard body, and the pain on my left side was too fucking familiar.

  I was shot. And the growly voiced man sounded angry and frustr
ated, but he also sounded afraid. Or concerned.

  “I’d say right now is a good fucking time to talk about it. When else you wanna do it? When we’re neck deep in shit with no plan to get out of it?”

  That no-nonsense voice mixed with a heavy dose of sarcasm was Slayer’s. That meant I was probably somewhere on Hardtail Ranch. I kept my eyes closed to see if I could hear anything beyond the men on the other side of what I assumed was the door. I didn’t know yet because opening my eyes took some effort. More effort than I could muster up at the moment.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to sit up, hoping it would force my eyes open. All it did was send an ugly moan shooting between my lips. The door flew open and, what do you know, it opened my eyes right up. Defense mechanism, I supposed. But it was temporary because the next moment my eyes slammed shut on a moan, and I fell back against a stack of pillows.

  The first voice to speak surprised me. It was soft and feminine.

  “How are you feeling?”

  I snorted at her question. “Like I got a shot of lead. How’s it look?”

  It hurt like hell, but it felt like it was clean and bandaged, if not stitched.

  “My head hurts like a motherfucker.”

  Two snorts, both of them masculine sounding and slowly my eyes opened on a pretty brunette with red glasses.

  “You got a pretty good bump when you hit the ground. Now that you’re up, I’ll give you a quick concussion test.”

  “You a doctor or what?”

  She smiled and nodded. “Yes, I’m a doctor. Call me Annabelle.”

  “Thanks, Annabelle. Where am I?”

  “Gunnar’s house on Hardtail Ranch.” Slayer’s deep voice was on my other side but I didn’t turn, not yet. I couldn’t. I didn’t know why, but I kept my gaze on the doctor.

  “Where’s my phone?” I said. I was sure I sounded groggy as shit, but I needed to call Curt. I wasn’t sure what had happened or who’d witnessed it, but the last thing the Lords needed was trouble with another MC.

  “I need my phone.”

  “Need to check on Leon?”

  Finally, my gaze swung to Slayer at his jealous and inappropriate comment. I glared. Hard.

  “What? I need my phone. If my Prez hears about this he’ll assume the worst.”

  I sat up, and Annabelle put a hand on my shoulder to stop me.

  “We’ll give your phone when your head is clear. Now stay calm or you’ll pop those stitches. It’ll hurt more with you conscious.” Her words stopped me cold. Unconscious. I’d been shot, of course, but unconscious?

  “Pain or blood loss?”

  She shrugged and cast a quick look at Slayer and Gunnar.

  “A little of both I would guess. It took some time to get to you.”

  Her words were ominous, but I suddenly understood.

  “Take it easy, Chance. You’re young and healthy. If you do what I say, you’ll heal with no problem. Probably not even a scar.”

  “Thanks. And thank you for not calling the cops.” Annabelle’s grin was tight, and when I tried to swallow there was sand instead of saliva.

  “We haven’t decided that yet.” Gunnar, I assumed.

  “That’s what we were discussing when you woke up,” Slayer said, his gaze fixed angrily on his president. He turned to the doctor, his face softening to a friendly smile.

  “Give us a minute AB? Then you can have all the time you need with the patient.”

  “Sure.” She turned to me. “Calm.”

  “Got it.”

  “Five minutes,” she said with a pointed look at Gunnar, recognizing him as the authority in this room. I wondered how on earth she got twisted up with an MC.

  “No more. She needs to rest.”

  As soon as she was gone, Slayer turned to me. “Chance, this is Gunnar, the President of the Reckless Bastards, Opey Texas Chapter.”

  Oh so formal.

  Another man, with dark hair and gorgeous blue eyes to match his handsome face, walked in. He looked like every girl’s bad boy fantasy. And that black clove cigarette hanging out of his mouth was a picture in itself. He grinned.

  “I think you make him nervous.”

  I frowned, feeling like I’d missed a thread in the conversation.

  The blue-eyed bad boy spoke up. “You said oh, so formal.” Then added with a smirk, “AB must have given you the good stuff.”

  “Who are you?”

  “Wheeler. VP.”

  “Nice to meet you. And you’re Gunnar. I think.”

  Wheeler snickered again. “What’s up?”

  Gunnar sucked in a deep breath that threatened to steal all the air from the room.

  “I just don’t get why we need to even discuss this now, never mind do this now when there’s a man lurking around claiming to be my sister’s fucking father!”

  Gunnar’s face was red by the time he finished screaming his question. He slid a hand over his face and let out a long breath.

  “That’s exactly why we need to discuss this now.”

  Slayer was serious now, his expression fierce. Hot.

  “We don’t know how long this fucker has been watching us, but you can bet he knows our whole damn MC.” He folded his arms, a slow, smug grin on his face. “But he doesn’t know the Lords of Buckthorn.”

  Wheeler whistled and shook his head. “A brotherhood? Is that what all of this is about?”

  He looked at me and then at Slayer, a slow grin forming on his face.

  “It might be a good idea. In theory. What do we know about them? No offense.”

  “None taken.” I understood that we both needed to sell each other on this idea, and here I was, the VP, so it was on me.

  “We’re small, but we do more than all right. The point is that we, both your MC and mine, need bigger numbers sometimes to protect our interests, especially where they might align. Oh fuck.”

  All of a sudden, I felt like a sword sliced through my stomach, and I sucked in a deep breath.

  “Fuck. Sorry.” Maybe I should have taken something harder for the pain.

  “You okay?” Gunnar’s blue eyes examined me with concern instead of suspicion, which meant he was thinking about my idea.

  “I’ll live as long as I don’t get an infection. Not my first gunshot.” I flashed a shaky smile, knowing that outside of my own MC, it was important to project as much strength as I could. It was hard at the moment, but I was nothing if not determined.

  “We’re not trying to share profits or become one big MC or anything like that. Just make it easier for both our clubs to number up when the opportunity presents itself.”

  It would give us both time to reach our full potential.

  “Like shipping your guns with our beef?” Looked like Wheeler had done his homework, at least some of it anyway.

  I nodded and arched a brow to let him know I was impressed. “Yep. And we’d hire Gunnar’s wife to beef up security at our clubhouse and other businesses.”

  Gunnar’s eyes flashed surprise and then a slow reluctance. “And if you two implode four weeks from now, then what?”

  Straight to the point. “Then the only thing that changes is that I won’t be fucking Slayer. Business stays the same until you and Curt decide otherwise.”

  He nodded, satisfied with my answer. It was a test, and I knew it would come; I just hadn’t expected it right after being shot.

  “All right. We’ll give this a shot. You sure this Leon guy is no longer with your MC?”

  I nodded. “Positive. Not for more than a year, why?”

  “The cops showed up before we…and uh, anyway they asked for the security footage. I told them we had to find the tape or some shit so we could talk to you.”

  “He’s no longer associated or affiliated with me or the Lords of Buckthorn. Period.”

  Gunnar nodded. “So I’ll get them that footage.”

  I nodded and watched him leave. Wheeler smiled and shook his head before following behind Gunnar, leaving me and Slayer alone.
Together.

  “So,” he said on a sigh.

  “So.”

  “So,” Annabelle said, intruding on the almost moment. “I need to examine you now. Slayer can come back later.” She gave him a friendly shove towards the door that said she spent a lot of time here and that made me more curious about her.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Slayer

  “You came back.” Chance’s voice was full of surprise. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, but the smile she sent my way pushed the rest of it out of my mind.

  “I did. Annabelle threatened me, so I decided to wait until she was all the way gone before I came up.”

  I sent her a lazy smile, and she sat up through a painful looking wince.

  “How are you feeling? Really?” I knew it was on the tip of her lips to lie to me, to say everything was fine when her pallid skin told a different story.

  Chance opened her lips, now a pale shade of pink, and then snapped them shut as her shoulders relaxed against the wall of pillows behind her.

  “Exhausted. In pain. Feels like a bullet tore through my side, otherwise I’m great.”

  Just those words took a lot of energy out of her, and she sighed again.

  “Care to fill in the blanks after I pressed up against you outside The Barn Door?”

  My brows dipped low in confusion. “You don’t remember?”

  Chance pointed to her head. “Head injury, remember?”

  I nodded. Like I could fucking forget that I spent the past few hours wishing Leon hadn’t killed himself so I could kill the fucker all over again. “You can thank your ex for that bullet Annabelle pulled out of your side.”

  Her eyes went wide like she really didn’t know. “Leon?”

  “Yep.”

  “Shit. Curt’s gonna have my ass this time.” I could tell the gears were already turning behind those beautiful brown eyes, and I wondered what other burdens she carried.

  “At least you can tell him that Leon is no longer a problem.”

  I figured that news would at least cheer her up so, I let it hang in the air for a moment to see how she really felt about him.

  “Once he realized that he shot you instead of me, he was damn near inconsolable.”

  “Fucking idiot,” she grumbled and shook her head. “At least he didn’t hit you.”