Gentle Curves (Dangerous Curves Book 4)

by James, Marysol

  “Fine.” Spider snapped out the word. “The gun stays hidden away, alright? Now, get the hell out of here. Go beat the shit out of someone or rob a bank or something, yeah?”

  Ace moved to the door. “Just get them someplace safe, OK? And remember that I did this for them. Make sure King knows.”

  “Oh, sure. I’ll report back that you’re a fucking Boy Scout now.”

  Ace opened the door, then turned to gaze at Spider, his dark eyes soft and gentle, just for a few seconds. “You look good, sweetheart.” And with that, he was gone.

  Spider stood for a minute, completely not believing what had just happened. Then he rushed to the door, locked it and backed in to a corner. He pulled out his cell phone and called King, his fingers shaking.

  “King? It’s Spider. Yeah, Ace just left here.” He paused, listened. “Yeah, it all went exactly as Jack said it would. He warned me – asked me to warn Mirrie. He said it was going to happen tonight.” Another pause. “Yeah, tonight.”

  **

  Mac turned off Mirrie’s cell phone and stuffed it in his duffel bag. He hoped beyond hope that she wouldn’t notice it was missing and if she did, he hoped she’d think that she left it at work again.

  “You all ready to go?”

  He jumped, looked over his shoulder at Mirrie standing in the bedroom doorway.

  “I sure am, babe.” He swung the bag over his shoulder and she shook her head.

  “I can’t believe that you’re going to live out of a duffel bag for a week,” she said. “Can you really get everything you need in to it?”

  Mac grinned, trying to slow down his racing heartbeat. “Sure I can. All’s I need are jeans and t-shirts and a toothbrush. Everything else is at the hotel.”

  “Pj’s?”

  “I sleep buck-naked, sweet thing.”

  “Hmmm.” She was momentarily thrown by that delicious information, then refocused. “What about your oh-so-official white doctor’s coat?”

  He waved his hands. “I always just borrow one from the hospital where I’m doing the consultations.”

  “Huh.” Mirrie thought about that. “Smart, I guess, in kind of a freeloadery kind of way.”

  Mac pretended to be indignant. “I don’t keep the coats – I always give ‘em back!”

  “Good man.”

  He walked over to her now, struggling to not tell her anything about what was about to happen. If it all went right, she’d be spared most of the details. If it all went wrong, he’d be dead and she’d never forgive him.

  “I love you,” Mac said, his voice hoarse. “You know that, right?”

  Startled, she peered up at him. “Sure I do.”

  Mac nodded, reminded himself to act normal. “So… I’m off to the airport.”

  She kissed him and he was thrown back to an hour before when they’d been in bed together. The bed was still unmade, the sheets rumpled from their lovemaking. Mirrie’s hair was tousled, her eyes bright, her smile perfect.

  “Safe travels,” Mirrie said. “Call me when you get to New Orleans, OK?”

  “I will, babe. I love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  It took everything in Mac’s body to turn around and walk out the front door of his apartment, knowing what was waiting for him. Knox, Honey and Jack were parked on a side-street outside and they’d sent him a text that Joker and Doors were in an unmarked van and they were waiting. Waiting for him or for Mirrie, whoever came out of the building first – and Mac was determined that they’d get him.

  He heard Mirrie lock the door behind him and he relaxed when he saw King, Valentina and Lilly standing at the end of the hall at the top of the stairwell. Their guns were drawn and they were all strapped in to Kevlar.

  “Keep her safe,” he said quietly. “Please.”

  “We will, man,” King said. “Nobody’s getting in here to your girl, I swear.”

  His throat too tight to say anything more, Mac tried to smile.

  “And you take care now,” King added. “Remember, this whole thing has gone exactly to plan so far. All you have to do is stay alive long enough for me to do my part.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Mac said, taking a stab at levity. “But it’s not totally up to me, is it?”

  Sombrely, they nodded. Yeah, that much was true and everyone knew it.

  Two minutes later, Mac stepped in to the deserted side-street just off the main road where his building was. Trying to look calm and unhurried, he walked to his car. He’d just unlocked the driver’s side door when it happened.

  The blow to his head – though anticipated – still brought him to his knees with its power. He found himself staring at the ground, blinking stupidly as booted feet kicked him in the middle of his back over and over until he fell forward and sprawled on to his chest. Quickly, as he and King had discussed, Mac curled up, trying to protect his vital organs and face. Immediately, the kicks became harder, stronger, more targeted.

  “You are fucking unbelievable, dickhead.” Mac didn’t know if it was Mirrie’s brother speaking, but he did know that the man’s voice was pure venom. “Did you and that bitch really think that you’d get away with it?”

  Mac shut his eyes tightly as the second man joined in the kicking; Mac just willed himself to keep breathing. Jack’s relentless study of the situation had led him to conclude that the Fallen Angels wouldn’t kill Mac – at least not right away. No, it made far more sense to Jack and King that Trigger would take Mac, hold him hostage, take some time to torment him.

  Jack had said that Trigger was, in his deepest, darkest core, a sadist and that he liked nothing more than hearing people beg. He got off on the pain he inflicted, on seeing the terror of his victims, on having control over their life and death. The notion of having Mac at his mercy would be far too tempting for Trigger to resist, Jack had concluded, and they’d moved ahead on that assumption.

  So Mac would get hurt, they’d had no damn doubt about that, maybe even hurt badly, but Mac had said that he could handle a beating if he had to. After all, his childhood had been nothing but one long beating at the hands of his father, so although he wouldn’t enjoy getting smacked around by the MC, he’d survive. Assuming King and his people came through.

  It seemed to go on for a long time, but Mac supposed it wasn’t more than a minute. That was when one of the men smashed the back of Mac’s skull with something heavy – most likely the butt of a gun – and he fell headlong in to blackness.

  Mac’s last coherent thought was how grateful he was for it to be him this was all happening to this time, and not Mirrie. But this was how Mac and the others had arranged it, after all. Mac was the one they wanted taken, Mirrie was the one they wanted kept safe. That was why they’d pretended to send Mac to New Orleans on short notice for an emergency patient consultation: it was the easiest way for him to disappear without alarming or alerting Mirrie. He just prayed that she’d forgive him the lie.

  Now all the chess pieces were in place for the devastating final few moves... and all Mac could do was hope that King would be the one to say checkmate.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Knox, Honey and Jack watched silently as Joker and Doors threw Mac’s inert body in to the back of a van and took off. They exchanged tense glances and then Knox sighed as he looked at the laptop in front of him. The blinking dot told him that the tracker on Mac’s arm was working perfectly. He spoke in to his headset.

  “King?”

  “Go, man.” His boss’ husky voice came back right away. “They took him?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You see him on the system?”

  “Yep. Whatever they did to him, the tracker’s still attached to his skin.”

  King hesitated. “How bad was it?”

  “Hard to say,” Knox said. “We couldn’t see what actually happened, but he’s out cold now.”
/>
  King cursed, took a deep breath. Yeah, OK, this had been part of the plan and everyone knew that this would happen to Mac, but that didn’t mean that King was happy about the situation. The thought that one of his closest friends had been beaten unconscious by some MC assholes made him furious. He stepped down hard on that feeling, though: getting emotional wasn’t helpful in this line of work. In his experience, getting worried and angry almost always led to making stupid mistakes... and mistakes got people killed.

  “Roger that,” King said calmly. He turned to Lilly and Valentina. “You two stay here, keep eyes on that apartment door. You see anyone try to get in to Mirrie, you take them down and I don’t give a fuck how you do it.”

  They nodded.

  “I’m going to go with Jack and we’ll follow the tracker. Honey and Knox will stay outside and watch the building doors at the front and back and the apartment windows. You guys all stay in constant communication with checks every two minutes at most. We clear?”

  “Clear,” they said and in King’s ear, he heard Honey and Knox confirm.

  “Jack? I’m coming out now. Switch vehicles and pick me up out back, next to the service entrance.”

  “I’ll be there in thirty seconds, boss,” Jack said.

  “Good.” King checked his watch. “Let’s go get Mac and bring him home to his woman in one piece.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Jack said.

  “It’s the only plan, man,” King said. “The only one that I can fucking live with.”

  **

  The first thing that Mac felt was pain, intense and throbbing. His head was killing him, his back ached, his face felt swollen and wet. He tried to move, realized that his hands and feet were bound. He lifted his head, groaned, forced his eyes open.

  “Well, hey there Sleeping Beauty.”

  Mac sighed, not at all surprised to see who was standing there. “Trigger.”

  “The one and only.” Trigger’s face was cold as he gazed down at Mac. “You stupid fucking idiot, MacIntyre... was her pussy worth it?”

  He felt the rage start to build and reminded himself to stay cool. His job now was to keep Trigger talking, to give King and Jack time to get to him. So let the stupid fucker prance and preen a bit, play his game for a while... what would it hurt in the end? Nothing, that’s what.

  “More than worth it,” Mac rasped now. “Not that you’ll ever know, MacGee. Mirrie will never let you within ten feet of her.”

  “Who the hell says I want her?” Trigger said, amused. “A fucking traitor? A slut and cunt? No thanks. I got plenty of sweetbutts hanging around the club and they’re all mine for the taking.”

  “Good for you,” Mac said.

  “It sure is.” Trigger heard something behind him and glanced over his shoulder. “Oh, Ace... where you been, man? I thought you were gonna miss all the fun.”

  Ace walked in to the warehouse and blanched when he saw Mac tied to the chair, bloody and dirty. What in the actual fuck? He’d just left Spider a few hours earlier, specifically told him to warn Mac and Mirrie to prevent this exact fucking situation from happening – and here it had happened anyway. Panic hit him in the chest, hard and hot, and he fought to look calm.

  “I had a bitch to fuck and she wanted a third round.” Ace walked closer, stared at Mac and tried to get in to the spirit of the thing. “You fucking moron... why couldn’t you just stay away from our property?”

  “Mirrie’s not your property,” Mac spat at him. “She never was. She’s hated everything to do with you for her whole life, and she couldn’t get away from you shitheads fast enough.”

  “Well, she didn’t get quite far away enough, did she?” Trigger said in a silky tone. “And she still ain’t far away enough. We’ll be seeing her soon, so don’t you worry about that. We’ll be getting reacquainted with the little bitch.”

  “Don’t you touch her,” Mac growled. “You lay one goddamn finger on her and I’ll hand you your asses, I swear to Christ.”

  “Yeah?” Trigger stepped forward, backhanded Mac smartly across the face. “How you planning on doing that from that chair, man?”

  Mac grinned at him even as blood trickled down his chin. “I’ve got my ways, MacGee.”

  Trigger laughed but Ace felt uneasy. Something about Mac’s behavior was... off. He knew that MacIntyre was a self-satisfied, arrogant, rich doctor prick, but still. Shouldn’t the man be losing his mind right about now? If not for his safety, then for Mirrie’s? Instead, he seemed to be taking great delight in insulting Trigger, getting a rise out of him. Why, though? Trigger was a stupid, dumb fuck, so of course he hadn’t noticed that their supposed-prisoner was being weird, but Ace was on high-alert.

  Trigger’s cell rang and he glanced at the number. “It’s Joker. I got to take this, so keep an eye on this idiot, Ace. Feel free to smack him around, if the mood strikes you.”

  Ace tried to look enthusiastic. “Sure thing, man.”

  Trigger left the room and they heard him talking in the hallway. They stared grimly at each other.

  “You fucking moron,” Ace said at last in a low voice. “You have no idea what you’ve done, do you?”

  Mac blinked innocently at him. “No. What have I done?”

  “You’ve killed her and you. Jesus, man... I remember you at Curves just a couple of years ago, ploughing through the pussy like a goddamn machine. Why couldn’t you keep your dick away from the one bitch who would lead to all of this?”

  “Why do you care?” Mac asked. “What’s it to you if you have to kill me and Mirrie? It’s not like we’d be your first, huh?”

  “Not even close,” Ace said through clenched teeth. “But this isn’t just about you.”

  “So who else is it about?”

  “Shut up,” Ace snarled, starting to panic now. “Just shut the hell up.”

  Mac obliged, watching Ace closely. Yep, the man was losing his damn mind and for real. Now that Mac was here and Trigger was fixing to kill him, every single one of Ace’s emergency exits had just slammed shut. Mac watched him desperately try to think how the hell to get out of this situation, watched as he reached the conclusion that there was no way out. Trigger was doing every single thing that Ace didn’t want him to do – and life in prison for killing Wheels Jordan was looking pretty fucking good right now, Mac imagined. But really, the more likely ending that Ace foresaw was his violent, brutal death at the hands of his ex-brothers for daring to be a gay man.

  Or maybe not. You may still get out of this, Ace, if this fucking tracker stuck to my arm is working. And if King can pull this off.

  Trigger came back, smiling widely. Right away, Ace knew that it had to be about Mirrie and he seriously thought about puking.

  “Joker’s very excited about seeing his dear sister again,” Trigger said to them. “It’s gonna be quite the reunion, I think.”

  Now Mac did show a flash of fear. “You mean he’s got her?”

  “Not yet,” Trigger said with a sneer. “The light just went off in your apartment so Joker figures she’s just gone to bed. He’s gonna wait on my call in about two hours and then go on in and get her. I can promise you he won’t be asking nicely for the bitch to come with him.”

  Mac didn’t even hear the last three sentences that Trigger had uttered: all he cared about was that Mirrie was still safe. The terror that had washed over Mac receded, just a bit, and he knew that things had to happen quickly now. If Donovan Kane was outside his apartment, then King’s Men knew that good and well and they’d have told King that the clock was ticking down. After all, the last thing they wanted was for Mirrie’s brother to make a move and force their hands.

  If he did that, then King’s people would stop him, of course... but then when Joker didn’t report in, Trigger would be tipped off that something was wrong. Or worse, Mirrie would hear something, open the door, see King’s Men quite p
ossibly shooting her brother in the goddamn head. Then, naturally and logically, she’d be very damn curious why King had a bunch of armed bodyguards standing outside Mac’s apartment. No feasible explanation was possible, clearly, and she’d know that something was seriously wrong. From there, nothing good could happen for her. She’d be terrified and worried and above all things, Mac was going to spare her this, if he could.

  “You stay away from her,” Mac said softly, buying time and holding Trigger and Ace’s attention. “You guys did your damage to her five years ago. Let her be, Trigger. Please.”

  “Oh, ho, ho!” Trigger said. “Did you hear that, Ace? We finally got a ‘please’. I was really starting to wonder about your manners, Doc.”

  Ace managed a weak smile.

  “You almost killed her,” Mac said, taking this opportunity to say all the things to Trigger that he’d wanted to for years. If all went to plan, then he wouldn’t ever get another chance, he knew. “You fucking wrecked her body, man, broke her in to pieces, left her for dead. What kind of men do that to a woman? Especially a woman they’ve treated as a sister for years?”

  “She had it coming,” Trigger said, not one iota of emotion in his face or voice. “There’s only one way to leave the Fallen Angels, and that’s in a body bag.”

  Ace shuddered.

  “She knew that,” Trigger continued. “She knew all the rules, she knew all the roles and responsibilities. What the fuck did she think was going to happen? Huh? We ain’t a democracy, we ain’t interested in anyone’s individual or special feels about a topic. I say what goes, everyone does it, no fucking questions or lip or attitude. And that little bitch? Well, she thought she was above it all. She thought she was better than the rest of us.”

  “Better than you, you mean,” Mac said, his voice dripping with malice. “And newsflash, asshole: she was. She still is. You pricks did your worst and she not only survived, she thrived. She made a whole new life and she’s strong and amazing and beautiful. She’s fucking light-years beyond you animals. She’s so far past you that you’re never going to get to her again. I won’t let you so much as touch her baby toe.”