Peg's Stand (Satan's Devils MC #6)

by Manda Mellett

  As I stand, I realise I did. Perhaps, just perhaps, I hadn’t given myself enough credit for it. But what could I change? Not being taken in by a sob story in the first place? Doing more to check someone out rather than taking them as they appeared on the surface? Like Peg, meeting his friends, knowing his status in the club, asking about his background, understanding his life. Because Pete had never mattered to me, he was just a housemate, I never bothered to find out. That had been my mistake. That’s what I can learn from.

  “Did it help?”

  My feet have carried me automatically out into the waiting room and, distracted, I look at Peg, and after a sigh, reply to his hesitant question with one of my own. “If you’d been in my position, Peg, running with your hands tied, trying to keep out of sight. What would you have done differently?”

  He looks at me thoughtfully. “Hands tied? No weapon? Minimal places to hide? Darlin’, I couldn’t have done more than you. Is that what’s been playing on your mind?”

  Chapter 40

  Peg

  As I walk Darcy out of the therapist’s office and back down to the truck, the question she just asked me makes so many things fall into place. Her reluctance to talk about returning to her job, the confidence that she’s lost. She’s been thinking she should have tried harder to escape, that someone else would have managed to get free, when under the circumstances, neither I, my brothers, nor her firefighting crew would have been able to do anything more than she did. He shot her in the leg for fuck’s sake. Unless someone had been wearing magical bullet deflecting jeans at the time, no one could run with an injury like that. She hadn’t just let herself be taken and raped, she’d tried her best to escape.

  I drive us through Tucson, then out onto the freeway, my mind racing with what I could do to convince her it wasn’t her fault, and nothing she had done could have prevented what followed. All the blame lies with Mercer, and certainly none with her.

  Mindful of her torn stomach muscles only just healed, I drive slowly and carefully, minimising as far as I can any bumps. Cars and trucks are passing me in the outside lane. I might have a way to go to get Darcy back in my life and my bed, but the counselling today seems like it might have helped. Glancing at her, I see her teeth biting her lip, and stay silent as she works through things that she’s heard.

  The turnoff to the compound is coming up. I indicate and then swing the wheel around. Home. Not far away now, a place where I can at last relax.

  Loud pops and the truck violently shudders, and I lose the fight to keep it on the track. A stinger. Sharp spikes have shredded my front wheels. The truck’s going nowhere.

  In one smooth motion I open my door, sliding my gun out of the holster. “Lock your door, Flash, and keep your head down.”

  Expecting her to obey, I slide out, my eyes looking left and right for danger. Getting my phone out of my cut, I place a call. “Need help. Entrance to the track.”

  That’s all I waste my breath saying, knowing my brothers will already be mounting up. Who took us off the road? I sidle around the truck, my head swivelling as I look left, right, forward, and back trying to find our attacker. A spike strip hadn’t just appeared by accident.

  A shot from the opposite side. Shit. Forgetting discretion, I run. My suspicions were right, it’s Pete Mercer, and he’s shot the lock, and though she’s kicking and fighting, he’s dragging Darcy out, his arm around her neck, and using her like a shield.

  “Get back.” He waves his gun at me. “It’s just the bitch I want.”

  I aim my gun even though I can’t take a shot. Darcy’s a tall woman and he’s not much got that much over her in height. Right now her face is reddening as he tightens his arm around her neck, and her panicked eyes stare into mine.

  I take a step forward, he drags her a step back.

  “I’m warning you, biker. I just want her. No need for you to get involved. I deserve payback, as she’s fucked up my plans.”

  I make another move to close the gap.

  He aims, Darcy elbows his arm, the shot goes wide. I look behind him, and now see a Jeep camouflaged by burned scrub he’s managed to pile up. I can’t let him get her to that.

  “Let her go and you might live.” Now I issue a warning of my own. “You’ll have a dozen bikers here any second.”

  He moves the gun back to her head. “Then she’s dead.”

  She will be anyway if she goes with him. I try to instruct her with imperceptible moves of my head, but her airway’s being constricted, and she’s gasping for breath.

  He steps back again, a little stumble, but rights himself and his burden. I’m not going to let him take her away.

  Darcy, fight, I try to tell her. An almost imperceptible tightening of my features trying to convey my instructions.

  I see the light dawning. As he moves backward again, she raises her leg and curls it around his. It’s enough, and this time he loses his footing and goes down, hard, taking Darcy with him, but his gun hand is flung out to save him.

  I take my shot, shooting straight through his wrist. He howls and releases the other arm around Darcy’s neck.

  Throwing herself forward, she runs to me, and I swing her around and behind me, and then advance. This fucker is dead. First, I kick his gun away, then pick it up, handing it and my own to my woman, not wanting to take the chance of him arming himself again. I hear the roar of bikes getting closer, like angry animals hungry for food, but I no longer need help.

  Mercer’s moving like a crab, trying to escape me. He gets his feet under him, but my fist to his face makes him fall once again. He squeals like a stuck pig. Just like a bully. He can dish it out but can’t take it. Oh, I’m going to have fun with him.

  I feel a presence behind me. “Darcy, keep back.”

  “He’s mine, Peg.” Suddenly she’s launching herself at the prone man, directing a kick straight into his balls. “I’m going to fucking hurt him. Just like he hurt me.”

  As he screams again and curls up, Darcy plants her foot in his face, and I hear a bone crack. Once started, it seems she can’t stop, and I’m proud as fuck of my woman, standing back and watching her work. She’s out of her mind with rage and fury, until she stops, breathing hard, her arms wrapped around her stomach.

  I hadn’t been aware of our audience arriving, but as her eyes meet mine, Drum walks around us and stares at the groaning body.

  Mercer’s face is so distorted the prez has difficulty recognising him. “This the fucker that’s been after you, Flash?”

  She nods, and now the tears start. Still fixed upon me, she pleads, “I don’t want him to escape. I can’t trust this to the courts, Peg.”

  Stepping closer, I put my arms around her, tucking her head under my chin. It’s the first time in weeks she’s so readily accepted my comfort.

  “Want us to take him to the storage room?”

  It’s an idea. We could make him really suffer there. But something tells me I need to finish it for Darcy here. “Nah, Blade. He’s not worth the effort.” I take my gun out of the holster, and holding her face to my chest, take aim at his head…

  “No, Peg.” She rears back.

  “No?” She doesn’t want me to finish him off? “Flash…”

  Her hand reaches for my weapon, I move it away from her. She jumps up and grabs my wrist. “Peg, let me. Let me end this.”

  She wants to shoot him?

  “Have you ever fired a gun?” I feel as much as see her shake her head. I breathe out a sigh. “Then if you’re certain this is what you want, we’ll do it together.” I turn her to face him, put the gun in her hand, and help her to steady it on her target. After her brutal attack, Mercer’s barely conscious. “You sure about this?” I ask softly.

  Her answer is simple and succinct. “Yes.”

  I look into her eyes and see the determination there. I squeeze her hand, the bullet flies fast, and Mercer has taken his last breath.

  She’s killed a man, and now her body is trembling. She collapses b
ack on me, and I need to hold her up. She’s sobbing, but is it regret or relief?

  “Sent Fergus back for a cage.” Wraith nods at the stricken woman in my arms.

  “Thanks, VP.”

  Drummer slaps my back. “We’ll handle the clean-up. Road will want his race track cleared of debris in any event.”

  I grin into Darcy’s hair. The forest around it might be badly burned, but the bodies hidden underneath have kept silent, and now they’ll have someone else to keep them company.

  Joker and Lady suggest they’ll dispose of the Jeep and disappear, Lady driving and Joker following on his bike. Despite the circumstances, I suddenly get the urge to laugh as an amusing thought occurs to me—when they come back Lady will be riding bitch.

  Fergus arrives back with the cage, and Hyde appears with a truck. As I half carry, half lead Darcy over to our transport, I see my brother’s wrapping Mercer’s body in plastic, preparing to transport it to its final resting place.

  It’s over. She’s free. But how will it affect her?

  Darcy doesn’t say a word when I sit her in the passenger seat, and nothing passes her lips as we complete our journey so rudely interrupted. When I park up, she gets out mechanically and comes without protest up to my suite.

  Her silence is worrying. Once inside, I turn her to face me. “Darcy, speak to me. Tell me how you’re feeling.”

  Her hands come out and grab the sides of my cut, but still she says nothing, and is looking down at the floor. I place my hand gently under her chin and try to get her to look up. A bad feeling is churning in my gut, that I shouldn’t have let her take any responsibility for ending him. She resists, continuing to look down, and I let her, just wrapping my arms around her back, pulling her close. Worried for her, but on my part, I’m relishing that now she’s safe and that bastard will never get near her again.

  “What’s that?” I heard her mumble something but couldn’t understand what she said.

  “I did it, didn’t I, Peg?”

  “You did it.” I’m not quite sure which part she’s referring to, but Darcy darn near saved herself and killed the man who made her life hell.

  “I brought him down so you could take the shot. I made him hurt. And I killed him.”

  Worried that knowledge that might come back to haunt her, I realise she’s taking ownership of everything. But why? To increase the guilt, or to make herself feel better? Torn between two options, I go for the latter. “Sure did, darlin’. Fuck I’m proud of you. You saved me from a bullet, Flash. Don’t forget about that.”

  “We’re a team, Peg. Couldn’t have done it without you.”

  A team. Fuck me, but I like the sound of that. “A team,” I echo.

  Her hands grip my cut tighter. “Peg, will you…will…”

  “Whatever you want darlin’. Whatever you fuckin’ want.”

  Her arms are suddenly around me, trying to hold me close. “Will you make love to me, Peg? Take those memories of him being inside me away.”

  “Fuck, darlin’. If that’s what you want.” I’d like nothing more, and my cock perks up, very interested. “But are you sure? Are you ready? And doesn’t your stomach still hurt?” The last thing I want to do is to cause her injury.

  She huffs a small laugh. “Kicking him probably didn’t do me much good, but I want, need, you, Peg.”

  Knowing I’ll have to be gentle, I again put my fingers to her face. This time she leans into them and lets me lift her head up. Her eyes are full of emotion, pupils dilated in desire. She’s taken back control. Now she knows what, who, she wants and, fuck it, the lucky man is me.

  Without delaying any longer, I lower my lips to hers. At first a soft touch, a gentle glide of our mouths moving against each other. Then she opens for me, and my tongue toys with hers. My hands come up to cup her face, the strands of her hair tickling my fingers. I angle her head for better access. Her taste affects me like a man drinking water after being lost in the desert. My own legs feel shaky as emotion swells inside me, and as I tangle my fingers in her hair I vow I’m never going to give her cause to leave me, ever again.

  Reluctantly I withdraw my mouth from hers and pull her to me, resting my chin on the top of her head, noting she’s a perfect fit for me. I pause for a moment, then ask once more, “Are you sure about this?”

  “I’m sure.”

  But she’s not quite healed, and I’ll need to keep my beast chained for now. That won’t be a hardship, just the opportunity to slide inside her, when I thought I’d lost that chance for good. I let her go, then placing my hand to the small of her back, encourage her inside my bedroom.

  When she’s standing in front of my bed, with my hands on her shoulders, I turn her to face me, then brush my lips against hers one more time. We both keep our eyes open, gazing at each other. There’s no question, no hesitation in hers, and certainly no doubt in mine. Slowly I run my hands up and down her arms, my touch light, my fingers relearning the feel of her skin, I repeat the action until I feel goosebumps starting to rise and hear the hitch in her breathing.

  Gently I take hold of the bottom of her tee, my eyes seeking permission. At her nod, ease it up over her head. I’ve got my old lady back. The thought breaks something inside of me, melting my heart, causing my hands to tremble as I reach around to undo her bra, sliding the straps down her arms and letting it drop to the floor.

  As I reach out and cup her mounds in my hands, I could almost cry with relief. Though I’d hoped one day this would happen, part of me thought that day would never come, that I’d never be touching her this way again. As my thumbs pass over her peaks, she moans. Moving one hand to her back, I lower my head and pay attention to those gorgeous nipples with their golden rings, feeling them hardening as I play with them using my teeth, lips, and tongue. As if no longer under her control, her body starts grinding against me. The physical sign that she wants me too.

  My cock throbs, but I ignore it. This is for her. All for her. Knowing the only way of taking Mercer’s invasion away is to make this completely different, I focus just on bringing her pleasure. If her torn muscles are still too sore, if it’s going to bring back bad memories, my dick will stay where it is, in my pants. I’ll get my enjoyment from watching her take her pleasure.

  “Peg.” She squirms against me, signalling she wants more.

  Carefully lifting her, I place her on the bed, my fingers going to the button of her jeans, and my eyes searching her face, making sure I’ve got full consent. Her little nod gives me the go-ahead to proceed. I remove her shoes, then undo the zip and slowly take down her pants, relishing how I’m revealing her, inch by glorious inch.

  I watch her again as my fingers tuck into the elastic of her panties, seeing nothing but desire. As I slide them down, the beautiful aroma of her arousal fills the air.

  Her scar on her stomach is puckered, red and angry, and I bite back the rage that that motherfucker caused her so much pain. “Are you certain you’re okay?” I need the words, I don’t want to hurt her. “If you’re in pain, tell me and I’ll stop.”

  “Peg, please. I…I need you.”

  She needs me, needs this. But whether she can handle it is another question.

  “Please, take away the memory of his touch.”

  I know what she means, and what she’s saying. Determined to imprint myself on her brain so all she can remember is my hands and my cock, I start stroking her inner thighs, then my mouth follows the path my palms have taken, kissing her legs from her knees to that wonderful place, the part of her no other man will ever see or feel again.

  She’s mine, and I’ll give all that I am to keep her.

  Her hands come down and she twists her fingers in my hair, pressing my head to get me where she wants me. But I’m taking it slowly, infuriating her on purpose. I need her desperate and writhing. After a few torturous moments, I comply, lowering my head and sweeping my tongue around her sweet cunt. She’s glistening with arousal, and her taste, oh, her taste. It’s as sweet as I rememb
er, swelling my cock to an unbelievable size. Have I ever been this hard, this insane for a woman before? I’d remember, and the answer is I’ve not.

  I lap at her cream, then lick my way to her clit, another gasp and a moan, and her hands fist the sheets, crumbling them up. When my fingers push into her, she freezes, and I suppress my swear word, making sure I only think it in my head.

  “It’s me, Peg. Open your eyes and watch me, darlin’.”

  As she does, she relaxes, and starts to welcome my touch, her internal walls clamping on my fingers, another rush of arousal dampening the bed.

  I toy with her mercilessly, my tongue circling her clit, then biting down gently while my hand curls so I can reach that special spot inside. As her body tautens, her palms cover her stomach.

  “Is it too much?” I rumble, the vibration of my voice making her shiver.

  “No. Don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop.”

  Realising she’s supporting her weak muscles, I go back to my task, relishing every second of the attentions I’m lavishing on her. She’s close, I can feel it, her thighs tightening around me. She almost stops breathing as she works her way to her peak.

  I press hard on her clit, and at the same time massage her inside, and she comes with a scream. After easing her down, I lift my head. Her skin has turned red and is covered with a sheen of sweat. She’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen in my bed.

  “Are you alright?”

  “Yes.” The word is gasped out as she struggles to get her breath. “I need you, Peg. I need you.”

  Briefly I break our contact to dispense of my jeans, boxers, and prosthesis, and then I’m back on the bed, one hand supporting me, the other guiding my engorged cock to her slit. “Tell me if it’s too much.”

  “It won’t be. I need this. Need you.”

  But as the bulbous mushroom head breeches her, she tenses up, and I freeze. “Am I hurting you?”

  She shakes her head, and a tear leaks down her face. “Just do it, Peg. Please.”