by Amber Morgan
“Fuck you,” Wolf said before Tanner could.
“I’m not leaving without Beth,” Tanner added.
“And I’m not staying,” Beth said, her voice steady despite her quaking. “So do whatever you will, Abram. Or order Peter to do it.”
Her jibe clearly struck home. Abram’s face reddened and he thrust his finger at her. “’Obey your leaders and submit to their authority!’ If you think I will tolerate this, Bethany, when you are my wife—”
“You’re fucking deluded, man,” Tanner snapped. “How about we walk away now and don’t break your neck?”
“Don’t threaten him,” Peter said. Tanner glanced at him and saw the trembling had set in. The man wouldn’t be able to keep the gun aimed much longer—the question was, would he just lower his arm or would he fire?
“Peter, please—” Beth started, but Peter’s arm dipped before she could finish and Wolf pounced.
The two went down hard and a bang went off almost immediately. Fear jolted through Tanner and he forgot Beth, racing to help his brother. The gunshot had his head ringing, but his vision was clear as he reached the men. Peter lay on his back, panting for breath. Wolf was slumped over him. Blood splattered across Peter’s face, but Tanner knew instinctively it wasn’t his. It was Wolf’s.
Chapter Thirteen
The world was twisting into a nightmare around Beth. She watched, horrified and helpless as Tanner dragged Wolf off Peter. Wolf hauled himself to his feet, hanging onto Tanner for support and clutching at his shoulder where blood spurted through his fingers, thick and unending. Peter scrambled back, still holding the gun in shaking hands, pointing it at Tanner. “You didn’t think I could but I did!” he yelled, eyes wild.
“Put it down, man,” Tanner said. His voice was cold, but Beth could sense the scorching rage in him. She could see it in his arms, tense as he held Wolf up. She could see it in his eyes, on fire as he stared down at Peter. “You don’t wanna kill anyone here.”
“See what you’ve done, Bethany?” Abram shouted. She spun to face him. He still stood at the altar, pointing accusingly at her. Chillingly, she saw he’d pulled his snake basket onto the altar. “Your lies, your deceit, you disloyalty … You caused all this!”
“Don’t listen to him,” Tanner ordered her.
But it was impossible not to. She hated Abram. She hated the Church. But he—and it—had been her whole world for her entire life. All those beliefs, those ingrained rules and laws … It was one thing to shout her defiance at Abram when she was in Tanner’s arms. But standing alone, facing Abram and his snakes, with Wolf bleeding all over Tanner and Peter still pointing that gun … Beth felt her defiance trickle away.
“I never wanted anyone to get hurt,” she whispered, almost to herself.
“There’s still a chance to stop it all,” Abram said, his voice coaxing, hypnotic.
“Don’t listen to him, Beth. He’s full of bullshit.” Tanner sounded explosive. If it wasn’t for Peter and that gun, she had no doubt Tanner would be charging at Abram right now. But she’d never forgive herself if he got shot fighting for her. Never.
She also couldn’t cave into Abram, not with Tanner’s strength and belief in her. She felt that as clearly as she felt his anger. And not with Wolf putting his body on the line for her. No, no, no.
If God really protected the righteous, the innocent, He wouldn’t protect Abram.
She walked to the altar. She heard footsteps behind her and glanced back to see Tanner moving her way, dragging Wolf with him. “Don’t,” she said, hoping she could send a message with her eyes alone. “I know what I’m doing, Tanner, I promise.”
He faltered and then stopped.
Abram’s smile was poisonous as she reached the altar. She dropped her gaze, partly out of habit and partly to hide her disgust for him. She tried to beat down her doubt and fear, remembering the things she had to fight for. The thrill of riding a bike full speed down an empty road. The warmth and friendship of Mia, Roxy, and Tamsin. And Tanner. His lips, his hands, his heart. She wanted more, wanted everything she could take from him, and that meant facing Abram and winning.
She took a deep breath. “I’m ready.”
“'They shall take up serpents; and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them.’” Abram’s eyes gleamed as he opened the basket. Hisses and rattles filled the air. “Will you see if God forgives you, Bethany?”
I’ve done nothing to forgive, she thought, but held her tongue. Good girls were quiet. Good girls obeyed. She simply nodded, feeling Abram’s greedy eyes on her as she slowly reached for the basket. He held it steady while the snakes hissed inside. Poor things. She’d always felt sorry for them. No creature should live in a cage.
Her hands hovered over the basket. Abram’s fingers twitched on the rim. Adrenaline kicked through her and she sent a silent apology to the snakes and grabbed Abram’s wrists, plunging both their hands into the basket.
She heard Tanner scream her name.
She heard Abram scream in fear.
And she felt a pinprick of pain.
Abram fought, trying to pull free of her grip but she clung on, forcing his hands to stay in the basket. The snakes coiled around their arms, cool and strong, and Beth’s heart stuttered. She didn’t dare look down to see how badly she’d been bitten.
“It bit me, it bit me!” He thrashed wildly, finally forcing her to let him go. He fell back, cradling one arm to his chest, terror stamped on his face.
It was the most satisfying thing she’d ever seen.
Strong hands caught her shoulders, pulling her away from the basket. She fell into Tanner’s squeezing embrace. “Don’t do that. Don’t ever fucking do that again. Are you hurt? Did you get bitten? Holy shit, Beth.” He spun her round, grabbing her hands and examining her for bites. She stared down at her pale flesh and saw twin blobs of blood above her wrist. It didn’t hurt, and only the blood itself told her she’d been bitten.
That didn’t mean much—symptoms of coral snake venom could take hours to appear. She’d have to wait for slurred speech, double vision … and paralysis. She swallowed hard and glanced back at Abram. He sat on the floor, prodding his arm with a desperate expression.
“Antivenin!” he yelled at Peter. “The antivenin!”
Peter stood, holding the gun uneasily. “There’s none left, father,” he said. “Not after … there’s none.” He sounded numb, dazed.
Tanner’s face set into grim determination. “We’re getting you to a hospital.” He picked Beth up, holding her to his chest, and she clung to him gratefully, feeling shaky and faint. “Wolf, can you ride?”
Wolf, pale but still standing, nodded. “Not much choice, is there?”
“No!” Abram stood, leaning heavily on the altar. “No, I won’t let you humiliate me like this! Peter!”
Beth held her breath as Peter swung the gun up again, galvanized by his father’s command. Everything seemed to freeze and she had a split second to think how annoying it would be to die now and never know if Abram had been poisoned.
The church door flew open. There was a blur of motion, the crack of gunfire, and the sick thud of a body hitting stone. Beth blinked, certain this was the start of the venom kicking in, clouding her vision. But no … when she blinked again, she saw Nash standing over Peter, the gun in his hand and aimed squarely at Abram. Judge stood just behind Nash, taking the scene in with a serene expression. Nash … Nash looked dangerous.
Beth couldn’t tell if Peter was dead or alive. He wasn’t moving and she saw blood pooling beneath him, but Wolf was proof you could be shot and still walk away, wasn’t he?
“Nash,” Tanner said, sounding torn between relief and anger. “What—”
“Norse told us.” Judge answered for Nash, who was striding down the aisle to Abram, ignoring everyone around him. Judge went to Wolf, prying his hand away from his shoulder to check his bullet wound. “You boys are making a hell of a mess here.”
Nash didn’t stop until he had
the barrel of the gun firmly pressed to Abram’s forehead. Beth couldn’t see Abram past Nash’s tall body, but she could imagine his expression, because she knew what her own would be in his place.
“You can’t,” Abram started, voice barely a whimper. “I need medical attention …”
“Tanner,” Nash said. “Come here.”
Tanner hesitated, then put Beth down, seating her on the nearest pew. He joined Nash.
“Tell this piece of shit whatever you have to tell him, and make sure he remembers it,” Nash said. “Then we’re clearing this shit-storm up, understand?”
Beth saw Tanner flex his muscles, clench and unclench his fists. He pulled his arm back and snapped it forward, sending his fist crashing into Abram’s jaw. Abram crumpled, but Tanner didn’t stop. He knelt over him, pounding once, twice, three times more, while Abram cried for mercy. Then Tanner hauled him up by the collar, bringing Abram’s battered, bloodied face close to his.
“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get the fuck out of town and never come back,” Tanner told him. “But you get this: if you stay here, you are never to contact Beth again. Don’t send anyone after her. Don’t threaten her family. Because I will find out and I will come back here and kill you.”
He punctuated his warning with one last blow. Abram’s head lolled back like a broken doll’s and Tanner let him slump to the floor. Standing, he faced Nash, who shoved the gun in the waistband of his jeans. “What now?” Tanner asked him. “You kicking me out?” There was a challenge in his tone that made Beth afraid.
“Get your girl and your brother to hospital. The truck’s out front.” Nash’s eyes met Beth’s for a second. “I hope you’re worth it, kid,” he told her.
She stared at Abram, certain she wasn’t.
“She is,” Tanner said. He picked her up again. She rested her head against him, his words filling her with warmth and relief. She closed her eyes as he carried her out of the church, unable to face the chaos they were leaving behind. All she wanted now was to move forward. With him.
****
After everyone had cleared out, Judge nudged Peter’s body with the toe of his steel-capped boots. “Well he’s going nowhere,” he said. “How’s the other guy doing?”
Nash crouched over the conscious Abram and checked his pulse. “He’ll live, if he got bit by the right snake.”
“Wanna take him to the hospital?” Judge asked without much interest, since he already knew the answer.
Nash snorted. “No. Let him rot.” He stood, rolling his neck. “Guess we should bury the body at least.”
Judge sighed, staring morosely down at Peter. He ought to feel guilty, he thought, or at least some sadness. The boy didn’t look much older than Tanner or Wolf. Too young to die so stupidly. But he didn’t feel much at all. The kid shot Wolf, would probably have shot someone else if Nash had been a little slower and a little less ruthless. And Judge wasn’t going to waste tears over someone who’d hurt one of his brothers. Life was a motherfucker. Sometimes you had to be one too.
Yeah. He’d said that to Roxy countless times over the years. She never bought it.
He shrugged and lifted the kid. Nash came to help. Judge didn’t ask how he was feeling. He didn’t want to know. If Roxy asked him later, he could lie and say Nash was fine.
Chapter Fourteen
Beth walked away from the ER with nothing more than a lecture about not taunting wild animals. The king snake had bitten her, not the coral snake, and by the time they reached the hospital the only tell-tale mark was a faint, tiny bruise on her arm.
Wolf’s wound was more messy than serious, but when a cute ER nurse insisted on keeping him in under observation, he didn’t argue. Tanner was privately glad. He wanted Beth to himself, wanted to pour all his attention on her, and he waved Wolf goodbye without hesitation.
“We’re going home,” he told Beth, wrapping his arm around her as they walked out of the ER. “And I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”
She laughed, but it was weak. Maybe the snake bite had been nothing, but she’d still been through a hell of a time, he thought. Not just today, either. “We can go back for your family,” he said as he helped her into the truck. He’d loaded his and Wolf’s bikes in the back before they left the Church—it only occurred to him now he’d probably left Nash and Judge stranded by doing so.
Oh well. They could both take care of themselves.
Beth bit her lip and shook her head. “They wouldn’t come. Hannah, maybe … But she won’t leave the other girls.”
“We’ll work it out,” he promised her. Even if Abram left Beth alone now, there was still a whole village of people for him to abuse and torment. Tanner didn’t think he could live with knowing that and doing nothing.
They drove back to his place in silence, but Tanner kept his hand on her knee the whole time and she covered his hand with hers. He glanced at her occasionally as he drove, each time feeling a massive rush of relief that she was okay, free, safe, alive. His. Because she was his, had been since the moment he almost damn ran her down. He wanted to wrap her up and lock her away. And at the same time he wanted to throw her on the back of his Harley and show her the fucking world.
And another part of him wanted to throw her down somewhere else entirely and show her that she was his fucking world.
Too fast? Too soon? Yeah, of course, but that was how he lived, wasn’t it?
The only question was, did Beth feel the same way?
****
There was a sleek blue car parked in the driveway of Tanner's house, and Beth tensed when she saw it. "Who—"
"Relax. It's my sister's." Tanner helped her out of the truck, squeezing her hand reassuringly.
"Will she be okay with me being here?" Beth remembered what he'd said about never bringing home strangers.
"Fuck yeah, she's gonna love you."
He sounded so confident, Beth had to believe him. She followed him into the house, flushing as they crossed the porch. It really wasn't that long ago that they'd sat here and ... Her cheeks burned. How was she going to face his sister when she and Tanner had all but had sex on her doorstep?
She didn't have time to think about it. Tanner swept her inside, calling his sister's name. "Melissa! Where you at?"
The rich scent of cooking beef and wine hit Beth and she was surprised to find she was starving. After everything that had happened today, food seemed absurd, but the aromas were irresistible.
"In the kitchen!" a woman called back.
Tanner took her through to a sunny kitchen decorated in a rainbow of colors. A tall, slender woman stood at the stove, poking a steaming pot with an expression of satisfaction. Even if she hadn't known already they were twins, Beth would have guessed. Melissa had the same dark hair and olive skin as Tanner, the same strong features. And when she turned to smile at them both, she had the same fiercely warm smile.
"Alex! And this is?" She looked Beth over, smile never slipping. Any worries Beth had about invading her home disappeared.
"This is Beth." Tanner pushed her forward. "She's ... uh ... staying with us?" He glanced at Beth as he finished the sentence, looking for her agreement.
A fizzy sensation filled her, making her blush again. He wanted her to stay! All the way home she'd worried about what happened next. It didn't matter that her plan had always been to keep moving—that idea seemed crazy now because it meant leaving Tanner. But how could she assume she had a place in his life after the trouble she'd brought?
But there was no doubt he wanted her. His face was full of hope, worry, and raw need. She'd never expected, never dreamed anyone would look at her like that, let alone a man like this. A man who'd fight for her, protect her without wanting to trap her. Her heart swelled.
"Yes," she said, taking his hand. "I'd like that."
Melissa gave her brother a searching look. "I guess you'll need to make up the spare room then?"
"No," Tanner said quickly, then added more calmly, "I mea
n ... of course. Obviously."
Melissa smiled knowingly and winked at Beth. "Dinner's going to be about an hour. Why don't you go show Beth the spare room?"
Beth was certain her head was going to burst into flames, she was so embarrassed. Tanner all but dragged her out of the kitchen and upstairs, leaving Melissa chuckling quietly to herself.
The house was much cozier and more homely than Beth had expected—warm colors and soft furnishings everywhere. When Tanner opened the door to his bedroom, she was almost relieved to find it stark and masculine. Black and chrome furniture, photos on the wall of bikes and bikers, and that compelling scent of leather and musk that was all him. On the wall over his bed was a mural in black and white—a wolf howling against the full moon. She recognized the image from a patch on his vest.
"It's the club logo," he said, sitting down on the big bed. "Melissa painted it."
"It looks cool," she said. "She's very talented."
"She's amazing," Tanner said. "I know a lot of amazing women. Guess I know one more now." He took her hands and pulled her down into his lap.
A flood of desire and excitement hit her. It felt strange, after all the fear and violence of the day, but it felt right too. She cupped his jaw, feeling a faint trace of stubble there. He turned his head to kiss her fingertips.
“I wanna tell you why I was in prison,” he said.
“I know. Norse told me.” Beth almost wished she hadn't said it—there was a brief look of surprised disappointment on his face. “It doesn't matter to me,” she added quickly. “I thought it did—or that it should, but it doesn't. You protected your sister. You were ...” She smiled, unable to resist. “Quite the white knight.”
Tanner grunted, and then his expression softened. “Our parents didn't do great by us. Melissa was all I had for a long time, and I was all she had. When I saw her hurting so badly, I did the only thing that made sense to me.” He twirled a lock of Beth's hair round his fingers. “And it's the same with you. What I feel ... It's fucking intense, Beth, and maybe I'm nuts, but I can't help it. Can't stop it. And I'll fight for you the same way I fought for my sister.”
