by Nicole Snow
I had to keep lying. Anything to buy time, time, precious time.
“Yes, Red. I told you, it's not too late. You can still have all the things you want. With me.”
Jesus, no. I wanted to cut out my own tongue.
The words tasted like ash.
Harsh, biting, poisonous.
But they worked. He jerked away from me, covering his face. When he looked up, his brutal eyes were shining with tears, just as deranged as the rest of him.
“You're a fucking godsend, woman. Fuckin' knew we'd get something sweet after getting fucked over by your daddy.” He stepped closer, brushing his arms against mine more gently this time, a wicked smile pulling at his lips. “You do everything I say, love, and we'll be cool. We'll have it all. I'll make you the best goddamned old lady in the whole world, happier than that fuckass you wed could ever make you...”
His mouthed moved toward mine. I locked lips with the filthiest animal I'd ever kiss, and then I couldn't stop the tears. They ripped out of me, flooding, pulled out by Firefly raging in my head.
No, no, no. I can't do this. There has to be a weakness here...
Something. Anything!
Running my hand over his belt and up his cut, I felt it. His knife was loose. He was distracted.
I kissed him harder while I fingered what he had, pulled it out, and let my tears flow.
When Red Beard pulled away, he saw the rivulets running down my cheeks, and his voice rumbled an octave lower. “The fuck? What's wrong? Don't you like it, babe?”
I'd kissed him just long enough to fish around his side. He'd been so overwhelmed with emotion, shaking when his lips touched mine, that he'd let his guard down.
I'd never opened a switchblade before, much less jabbed it into human flesh. But I'd seen Firefly and the other guys do it several times over, whether they were fighting or just sharpening them.
“I'm sorry, Red,” I moaned, tilting my face up so I could look into his vicious eyes one more time. “You're beyond my help. And you taste fucking disgusting!”
The metal glowed hot in my hand as the blade popped out, and I drove it straight into his back with all my might. It went in easier than I expected, thank God, so sharp and dangerous it surprised me.
The bastard let out a ferocious scream. I kneed him in the balls, before he could come after me.
He hit the floor, snarling and rolling like a beast caught in a trap. I backed into the corner, grabbed the chair, and began smashing it across his head. I had to shut him up, I had to kill him, before the other men came running.
Too late. The door busted open, and I heard the gunshots exploding in the hallway. Then Sharp stepped in, his bald head shining like a demon, and he pulled his gun.
“What the fuck?” He lifted it, aiming it right between my eyes. Down on the floor, Red Beard moaned, grabbing at my leg while he bled.
“Don't fucking shoot. We murder her nice and fucking slow for this, goddamnit. I die, this bitch's blood is gonna paint this clubhouse.” The wounded leader's hand clawed at my leg, tight and angry, his fingers pinching into my calf so hard it hurt.
His eyes stared up at me, half-glazed, angrier and crazier than ever before. Fucking bitch. I will watch you die before I do.
I could hear his threat in my mind. But when Sharp rushed forward, pushing his gun to my temple, I couldn't hear anything except the roar of my own frantic heartbeat throbbing in my ears.
“Step the fuck away from him, cunt, or I'll blow your fuckin' brains out!”
His words were so small. So far away. And Jesus, what were all those gunshots outside?
The whole world shrank away from me. I expected my lift to start flashing before my eyes any second.
If Firefly and his men were here, they'd shown up about five minutes too late.
I'd fought, and lost. I closed my eyes, letting the hot tears come, mouthing the words the savage men at my throat and at my knees wouldn't understand.
I'm sorry, Firefly. I love you. Forever.
13
Inferno Rising (Firefly)
Ten Minutes Earlier
Skinny boy saw the first lazy prospect milling around just past the gate to their clubhouse, a smoke hanging outta his mouth. He was staring at his phone, texting some bitch, judging by the smug look on his face.
Fucker died happier than he deserved.
“Now!” I whispered, standing next to Skin in the alley, motioning with my hand.
His high powered rifle barked.
Perfect shot. The asshole's head exploded in a cherry mist, and then Sixty revved the truck up. We just saw our brother's mouth hanging open, his goatee twitching, and heard him let out a rebel yell that would've made Stonewall smile in his grave as the truck smashed down the Torches' gate.
“Go, go, go!” Dust roared.
We moved fast, pouring in behind it.
For a second, with all the thick dust swirling around and men running in like infantry behind a tank, I swore I was back in Afghanistan, ready to mow down some terrorist shits before they murdered villagers.
Same adrenaline rush. No, fuck no, it was worse this time.
My girl was on the line. Cora, the most valuable thing of all, everything I'd sworn my own fucking life to protect.
Torches came flying outta the clubhouse like angry hornets, about five seconds after they heard the commotion. That was five second too long. Sixty ducked down in his driver's seat, and we fired our guns, hiding around the rear of his truck.
Bullets went everywhere. Men dropped. Joker jumped out, rolled on the ground, and threw a flash grenade through the smoke, rolling toward their entrance.
Fucking thing exploded in a clap of lightning, blinding all the bastards in front of us. They all swore bloody murder as their retinas temporarily got wiped.
“Let's fucking move,” I said to Skin. He nodded, following my lead, laying down more suppressing fire as I worked my way through the thick of it, killing one of the nasty looking bastards clawing at his eyes on the ground.
Skinny and me were almost punching our way through the main door when their garage opened up. Several big, mean motherfuckers hurled hellfire at us, crouched on the ground. A bullet cracked past my ear, clipping the very edge of my lobe, sending a hot blood trail trickling down my neck.
Fuck, fuck. No goddamned time for this shit!
The other boys were on it by the time I hopped up and fired. Got a better angle, sent lead through another fuck's head, and watched the rest of my crew off a few more of them.
“It's all clear!” Skin roared, poking his head inside their clubhouse.
I shuffled in, moving past him, deep into the snake pit. Soon as we got to their bar, a big train of screams came rushing toward us. We held our guns up.
My finger eased off the trigger when we saw the women coming.
“Hold it!” I growled, throwing myself in front of Skin's rifle.
At least five beat up, dirty looking bitches in nothing but bras and panties went running. They howled all the way out the fire exit, dashing for their lives. Who the fuck could blame 'em?
Kept my eyes fixed on their slim, bruised bodies the whole way out, making sure Cora wasn't mixed in. No, there wasn't any sign of her.
Didn't know if that shit made me sick with relief or worry. Right now, my guts did another flip, churning foul at the thought that we'd been working with these sick motherfuckers.
“Come on.” I walked forward with Skin, creeping toward the hall leading to their rooms. We'd have to clear this shit one at a time.
We each took a side, kicking in the doors, most of 'em unlocked. Didn't find a damned soul inside, just a whole lotta filth, all over the fucking place.
Panties and burned out cigarettes. Busted bottles and dildos. Even a couple syringes crunched under our boots, and so did the crinkled snack bags and fuck only knows what else they'd been piling into a garbage heap.
The Torches and their whores had both checked out. Some dying, and others just fleeing thi
s madhouse for their fucking lives. Brutal satisfaction hummed in my veins, knowing today was the day we'd smother the black flame forever.
But it didn't count for shit unless I brought my girl home safe. Where the fuck was she?
I was in the meeting room when I got a hand on my shoulder. I spun around, and saw Skin looking at me, accidentally digging my gun into his chest. Lowered it as soon as he spoke.
“Back room, brother. Their shit's laid out a lot like ours. There's a bunch of ammo, some guns, old bike parts, and what looks like a door leading down.”
“Let's move.”
Fuck. Going down a spider's hole was just about the last thing we needed.
Too fuckin' bad. I'd smash my way through hell itself to get to Cora, feel her in my arms, get her hot little mouth underneath my lips again.
Skin stood back, aiming his gun down the hole, as I jerked the doors open. We crouched and headed down the small, winding staircase, careful to listen to any assholes who might be ready to pop out near the bottom.
Basement was bigger than it looked. Damned thing was dark, shadowy, and had two doors at the end of a hall. One of them was open, and we both heard the noise inside.
A harsh, low voice. Recognized that shit as Red Beard's Veep, the same bald, horse-faced asshole who I'd almost fucking killed the day they showed up at our garages.
“Step the fuck away from him, cunt, or I'll blow your fuckin' brains out!” The bastard growled. Cora whimpered.
“Firefly,” Skin hissed, trying to hold me back, but it was too fucking late.
I kicked the half-cracked door open and saw the asshole with his gun on her head. I'd never aimed so carefully in my life. My nine went up with a supernatural calm and the fucker, Sharp, barely had a split second to look at me.
I fired. Cora screamed, ducked, and caught his filthy blood as his brains went out his skull. Bastard toppled to the floor a second later, right next to where the other asshole was twitching, Red Beard himself.
He'd caught a knife in his back. She finally looked up as we stepped inside, and I saw those beautiful light blue eyes. This time, I swore I'd keep 'em shining forever.
“You do this?” I asked, coming over to her.
Asshole Prez twitched on the ground, trying to climb over his fallen brother's dead body, reaching for her like something out of a fuckin' horror movie. Cora moved back, threw herself into me, clutching my arm.
“Yeah,” she said, gathering her breath. “Finish him, Firefly. Please.”
“Fuck!” Red Beard screamed when Skin put his boot down on his grotesque body, and pressed down hard. “You fucks are gonna die for this shit. Gonna kill every last one of you, skin that fucking tease alive.”
I looked at my brother, and Skin nodded. Taking Cora's hand, I led her over to him, stepping past the trash cringing on the floor. Bastard didn't know we'd probably killed his whole fucking crew by now, but he would in just a few more seconds.
“Babe, wait with Skin outside. This'll only take a minute or two.” I leaned in, gave her a quick, hard kiss, and then pushed her gently into my brother's arms. He led her out, looking back over his shoulder.
“Make it quick. Gotta make sure everything's locked down upstairs so we can all get the hell outta here.”
Boy was right. I saw Cora looking at me one more time, a thin, tortured smile on her face as I closed the half-busted door as best as I could.
I had about ten seconds to think up the most gruesome torture I could to flay this fucking demon alive. Good thing I had a lot of experience underneath my belt.
“You're dead, asshole, fucker, king shit,” Red Beard snarled, wide eyed and staring up at me, the wicked energy leaving his body a little more by the second.
“Whatever.” I crouched next to him, ripped the knife out of his back, and looked at it for a second while I held my own blade in my other hand.
Bastard managed one more scream while I rubbed the blades together, sharpening them real good, and then laid into him.
When it was all over, I had blood all over me. I stepped outside and took Cora from Skin, pulled her tight, and kissed her with all my might.
Finally, all the bullshit was over. We were both a mess. Tired, sick, and exhausted as hell from the adrenaline burn still raging in our veins.
Fuck if it stopped me from pushing my tongue against hers, reminding my girl who owned every inch of her. Fuck if anything would ever stop me from showing her, every single day, 'til we were both ashes and dust.
Skin's burner phone sputtered. Heard him talking to one of the boys upstairs while we kissed. I didn't move a damned muscle 'til he walked up, pushed himself between us, and slung his rifle over his shoulder.
“Gotta move. Dust says the place is cleaned up, and he wants us to get the fuck outta here before half the Atlanta PD surrounds this shithole.”
No argument. I picked up Cora, slung her arms over my neck, and carried her upstairs, pressing her face tight into my chest so she wouldn't have to look at this graveyard a second time.
“You know how much I love you, right?” she whimpered, looking at me with those half-closed lids that made me want to shove her against the nearest wall and fuck her brains out.
Even in this fucked up war zone, the woman was beautiful. Perfection. So glorious my dick throbbed harder than my trigger finger, smelling smoke and blood.
“Yeah,” I growled back, pushing my forehead against hers as we made our way to the street, where the rest of the boys were gathered. “Love you too, baby girl. Love you 'til the day I die, and that ain't today. We've got a long fuckin' way to go before they ever put me to rest. You're coming along for the whole ride. No ifs, ands, or bullshit allowed.”
It was a long, hard journey home from Atlanta. The crew was drained, quietly grateful nobody had been killed or seriously fucked over in the battle.
The Torches were good, and they fought tooth and nail to their deaths. We were better.
I drove on with Cora draped around me, careful going around every bend. Knew her strength wasn't up to peak, and there was no fucking way I'd risk losing her on my bike.
Atlanta disappeared quickly in a dash of smoke and sirens. Darkness and a few shortcuts Joker remembered from old trips through the city saved us from running smack into the cops.
Wouldn't be long before the big brawl in the dead industrial district hit the news. With any luck, no smartass detective would ever know the Pistols had put those fuckers down.
We'd scattered old, torn cuts and guns we'd pulled off the Deads in previous battles across the ruined clubhouse. Framed our enemies with our other enemies. We also had to keep our eyes peeled for those assholes all the way through Georgia, knowing this was their territory. They'd probably already heard about the Torches being smoked out, and they'd be moving in to pick up the pieces.
Someday, we'd be back to settle the score with their sick club, but we had a long ass road to ruling more of Dixie than the cool Tennessee mountains.
Drive on. Get her home, you bastard. Club biz almost ate your ass alive today.
For once, I shut up and listened to that shit rolling around in my skull. In just a few more hours, I'd have her at Hannah's place. And when we got the all clear, we'd finally be rolling back to our apartment, this time for good.
Dust and the boys waved as we broke away on the highway. Prez or Joker would be busting my balls to show up early for debriefing tomorrow, but the rest of the night was ours.
Twenty minutes later, we rolled up the long driveway to my sis' place, and I parked my shit in the back, taking the door.
My girl was barely holding on, fighting sleep with everything she had by the time I pulled her off. She hung limp in my arms, soft and warm. Cradled her against my chest as I worked the lock, brought her inside, and carried her upstairs.
She didn't say shit 'til I walked into the giant guestroom, refusing to put her down on the bed. Just carried her sweet ass straight into the huge bathroom, sat her near the tub, and started pulling h
er clothes off.
“Firefly, no. I'm tired. I'm going to go nuts if you don't put me down and tuck me in!”
“Patience, babe. You've been through a fuck of a lot. You're not going anywhere, much less to sleep, 'til I've got you cleaned up and put some water in your system. Get the fuck in the tub.”
Groaning, she finished tugging off her clothes and obeyed, while I reached into the cabinet near the sink and pulled out some bottled water.
Seeing her naked and dirty did something mad to these bones. I wanted to take her, push between her legs, rule every sweet fucking inch of her I'd been denied for a couple days.
Everything I thought I'd lost for good.
“Drink, babe,” I ordered, watching her curl up as I ran the water.
She took the bottle and sipped like a damned bird, taking it a little faster as I ran my fingers through her hair. “Fuck, there's nothing on this planet that'll ever stop my dick from twitching every time I look at you.”
I reached for a washcloth and rubbed it across her back, soaping her up, trying my damnedest not to jump into the tub after everything she'd been through. The girl needed rest – even if that was the last thing on this earth my cock wanted to give her just then.
“I can think of a few things,” she said, smiling and craning her body into my hands. I let the rag slip into the water and rubbed her with my bare hands, loving every damned inch of her.
“Yeah, and we beat 'em all, babe. Knocked 'em into the fucking ground. It's just you and me. No more bullshit. We've got a bright future ahead.”
She gave me a long, tense look, like she had something heavy on her mind. “We do.”
My hands moved lower, cleaning her good, stopping for just a second to rub between her legs. She was hot. Wet. And it wasn't just the damned bath.
My fingers found her clit and pinched around it. She closed her eyes and moaned, her whole body shuddering.
Fuck, I wanted her. We'd both been through the wringer.
I couldn't fuck her yet, not unless she opened those pearly blues and gave me that look.
