“They fucking carved a price tag to his head,” he ground out.
That was a bit dramatic even for Wolf.
I ran my hands over my fucked up hair and scowled.
Jack straightened up, running his hands over his face before he turned to Pipe.
“The Dragons tried to slay a Knight, Prez, you know what that means don’t you?” Pipe questioned.
“It means the fucking Chinese resurrected a war with us,” Jack ground out. “It means, get your fucking saddle ready because we’re going to ride ‘til our hands are covered in Dragon blood,” he vowed, fixing his eyes on me. “Means Riggs is going to show them who the fuck breathes fire. You with me, brother?” He asked.
“I’m with you,” I said, numbly.
He cupped my chin, forcing me to look at him.
“Heart,” he hissed, before dropping my chin and turning toward Bones. “Get him cleaned up and a goddamn cut,” he ordered, before he turned to Pipe.
“I’m hungry,” Jack said. “You hungry Pipe?”
Fine time for them to be talking about food while Bones hoisted my naked ass off the dirt road. I had a motherfucking price tag on my head and they were talking about their stomachs. Join an MC—it’ll be fun—still waiting for the fun part.
“Starving,” Pipe replied.
“Let me guess…you’re in the mood for a little General Tso’s chicken?” Wolf questioned, as he stepped into stride alongside them.
“Ay,” Pipe agreed. “With a side of Wu,” he added.
Time to hunt.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Once in the cage, Bones pulled his cut off and threw it onto my lap.
“Put it on,” he ordered, turning the key in the ignition as the rest of the Knights straddled their bikes and peeled away from the scene of my drop off.
I looked down at his cut, wincing as I put it on.
“You don’t happen to have a pair of pants lying around here somewhere, do you?” I asked.
He said nothing, keeping his eyes on the road as I glanced down at myself, my dick flailing around every time we went over a bump. Luckily for me, Bones and I have been close friends for years. So close as boys that we used to measure our dicks against the wall. If we didn’t have that kinda friendship, this shit might’ve been awkward.
Boys who turned into men.
My brother.
The one person I trusted more than anyone.
I glanced over at him, noting his knuckles whitening as they gripped the steering wheel and how his jaw clenched as he worked his neck from side to side.
“I took my mask off,” I said, breaking the silence between us. “When Wolf was still upstairs in the apartment I turned around and lifted the ski mask from my face,” I explained.
“Why you telling me this?”
“Because Wu let me go,” I said running my hand over the hair missing from my head. “You and I both know he only let me go to deliver a message. He’ll be back, The Dragons aren’t going to let me get away with that shit,” I said, turning and glancing out the window.
“We’ll handle it,” he barked. “That chink fuck can try to do whatever he wants…we’ll shut the motherfucker down,” he added.
I nodded in agreement because he needed me to but I was realistic, there was a fucking price tag on my head, literally, and I needed to accept that shit. I’d fight alongside my club, fight to the death of me, but I needed to prepare myself in case I was fighting a losing battle.
“Need you to take care of something for me,” I began, turning my eyes back toward him.
“What?”
“If this don’t end my way, I need you to get my parents to give my money to Lauren,” I said. His eyes turned to mine in a flash, anger reflecting in them at my request.
“Nothing is going to happen to you,” he seethed, turning his eyes back to the road.
“Right, but if anything, ever should. Even if it has nothing to do with the Chinese, and ten years from now I get hit by a truck, I need to know you’ll get her the money so she can take care of Pea.”
“Do your parents even know about Pea?”
“No, and I don’t want a fucking thing from them while I’m breathing but if something happens to me, then my kid deserves that money,” I said, as we pulled into the Dog Pound lot. I glanced out the window and saw Bianci standing outside, next to my bike.
Shit.
I sighed and looked back at Bones.
“Can you do that for me?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he hissed. “For Pea,” he said through clenched teeth, before he pointed his index finger at me. “Don’t fucking talk like that again, like you’re going to get clipped and leave that kid fatherless,” he ordered.
Pea was worming his or her way into everyone’s life.
I shoved his finger out of my face and rolled my eyes.
“I’m not going anywhere, asshole. It will take a lot more than a pack of ninjas to take this guy down,” I declared, reaching for the door handle and climbing my naked ass out of the van.
I squared my shoulders back, head held high as my dick flapped in the wind and strode toward the compound like the badass I am.
My demeanor dissolved when I saw my precious Harley covered in red fucking paint and Bianci standing next to it with a sponge.
“Step away from the bike!” I demanded, my one good eye assessing the damage before I looked back at Bianci, staring daggers at him like the one eyed bandit. Just call me Cyclopes.
“What did you do to my Bike?”
“What the hell happened to you?” He growled, ignoring my question, and me for that matter, as he turned to Jack. “What the fuck?”
“None of your business Bianci,” Jack growled.
“The fuck it isn’t,” he pressed, diverting his eyes back briefly, taking in all the glory that is me.
“Go home, Bianci,” Jack demanded. “Your ass don’t belong here, this is club business, something you’re not about. Now, I’ll only say this one more time—go the fuck home to your wife and be the fucking upstanding citizen people fought hard for your ass to be,” Jack ordered, turning around and eyeing the rest of us.
“Chapel, now,” he bellowed, switching his gaze to me. “Get him cleaned up and checked out,” he ordered, before moving toward the door that Bianci was standing in front of.
Guy had balls.
Or maybe heart.
Someone should give the poor sucker a patch—I think he misses the life.
“Riggs became my business when you put him on me and he’s staying my business because of the kid he and my sister are having,” Bianci ground out.
“Aww, you love me,” I said mockingly.
Anthony diverted his eyes to me, silencing me with a glare.
“You people live for one another—me and my people live for family. So, you keep living for yours and I’ll keep living for mine,” he paused, pointing toward me. “I’ll stand back, let you do your thing but a hair on his head gets harmed, all bets are off,” Anthony warned Jack.
I guess he didn’t catch my new do.
“Like I said before, Bianci…go home,” Jack ground out, walking around him and into the Dog Pound.
Bianci stepped aside, and we all followed Jack into the clubhouse. When it was my turn to limp my ass across the threshold, Anthony reached out and cupped my chin, turning my head and staring at my dope haircut. I peered at him, watched his blue eyes darken in a way I’d never seen. Before I could say a word he dropped his hand and started for his car.
The Satan’s Knights had a doctor on call for situations like this. Wolf had already made a call and the doctor was waiting for me when I stepped into the Dog Pound. I don’t know if it was the adrenaline or the goddamn need for revenge but my injuries didn’t bother me, I tried to make light of them. Even when the doctor had to stitch my fucking forehead. Good times.
My bike was fucked.
My cut was gone.
And I had a fucking haircut I didn’t want.
&nbs
p; Doc took his sweet time patching me up, making me look like Frankenstein. When he was done I hurried to put my clothes on and meet the guys in the Chapel. I didn’t care if I had to ride bitch, since my bike was a fucking canvas now, I wasn’t being left behind.
I grabbed a baseball hat, fitted it to my head and made my way down to Chapel just as they were walking out.
“What’s going on?” I asked, watching as two of the prospects carried in one of the crates. The deal with Wu obviously hadn’t gone down and now we had access to all the guns. Wolf pried the crate open and started dispersing the guns around the room.
“Sit this one out,” Jack said to me, as he fitted his vest around his chest and draped a rifle over each arm.
“Yeah, no thanks,” I said, snatching one of the guns from Wolf and turning to one of the prospects. “Give me the keys to your bike,” I demanded, holding out my hand.
“What?” he asked, dumbfounded.
“Now,” I hollered, as he glanced over my shoulder at Jack.
Jack sighed, shaking his head for a second before lifting his eyes to meet the prospect’s eyes.
“Give them to him,” he conceded.
I didn’t know the plan, didn’t even care what it was—I followed Jack with the borrowed bike, hell bent on revenge. The gory kind.
We pulled our bikes in front of a Chinese restaurant close to Mott Street and Wu’s house of heroin. They weren’t kidding when they said they were in the mood for Chinese. We dismounted, pulled out our guns and then Wolf announced our arrival by emptying a clip of bullets into the glass door. The glass shattered and Jack stepped through the frame of the door, his boots crunching the glass as he walked in.
“You should invest in bulletproof glass,” he suggested, as the Dragons drew their guns on us.
They shouted in Chinese again and Wolf took another shot, this time his bullet shattered the fish tank that took up half the wall, the water pouring out everywhere. “Flipper” and his posse escaping confinement.
“Fucking English,” he demanded. I guess all the Chinese talk was pissing Wolf off too.
I watched on as Jack stepped closer to the table where Sun Wu sat, sipping his fucking green tea, unfazed by this shit. A Dragon stepped closer, and I shot at his feet.
“Take another step and I’ll make you dance motherfucker,” I warned, and the bastard laughed.
Bang! Bang!
He yelped as the bullet pierced his shoe.
Dance motherfucker.
Make it rain!
I lifted my head and all the guns were aimed at me.
Ah, fuck.
“Damn it, Riggs,” Wolf growled, reaching for his rifle.
“Should I add the glass to your tab?” Wu asked Jack in the middle of my quest for a rain dance and Wolf trying to save my ass. I think Doc hit me up with some pain killers because I was feeling loopy.
“You made your point Wu, now tell me what you want so we can put this shit to bed,” Jack demanded.
Wu laughed, dabbing at the corners of his mouth with a napkin.
“That’s funny,” he said, rising to his feet, and walking around the table. He wasn’t armed but remained calm as Jack cocked his gun and ripped back the safety. There was another Chinese exchange between him and his club. Jack kept his gun close as he narrowed his eyes, watching every move Wu made.
“You stole from me and now you expect me to close my eyes to that?” Wu shook his head. “I don’t know who you’re used to dealing with, maybe all your mafia handlings have made you forget your place…it doesn’t work like that here, Bulldog,” he stated, holding out his hands as one of his men handed him a leather cut.
He unfolded the cut.
My fucking cut.
“You see here, when you take from the hand that feeds us we expect a full payment,” he explained.
“Yeah, I got your fucking message,” Jack fumed. “I’ll get you your fucking money but then it ends. This beef gets squashed, we’re even because if you want to get down and dirty motherfucker, you marked one of my brothers and I don’t take that lightly,” he ground out.
“Your brother is lucky he’s breathing, Jack, don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m finished with any of you. I marked your brother but you’ve taken blood from me. I have three men to bury and a dozen whores to dispose of, we’ll never be even.” He affirmed.
Then he turned around and draped my cut over the table. He pulled a knife from his back pocket and dragged the blade along the seam of the reaper sewn into the back of my cut. He ripped the patch from the leather, turned back around to face Jack and threw my cut at me.
“You’ve taken three of my brothers, seems only fair I take three of yours.”
“Don’t threaten me or my fucking club Wu,” Jack commanded.
“For now, my money will suffice, but the Knights and Dragons alliance is dead,” he informed.
Jack advanced toward Wu and the Dragons turned their guns from our heads to Jack’s, in return our guns moved across the room, from one Dragon to another, itching to pull the trigger.
Jack brought the barrel of his gun to Wu’s lips, running it across the seam.
“Don’t underestimate me Wu, I’ve killed for a lot less,” Jack whispered, as he shoved the gun between Wu’s lips. “If you ever touch another brother of mine again, I’ll make you howl motherfucker, make you beg like the fucking dog you are,” he hissed, reaching down and grabbing my patch from Wu’s hand. He pulled his gun from his mouth and took a step back. “Don’t underestimate me,” he repeated.
“A quarter of a million dollars, Bulldog, or I’ll shove that gun you had in my mouth up your ass, then you’ll know what it’s truly like to be fucked by a Dragon,” Wu added.
Jack laughed, turning around to face us and handed me my patch before looking over his shoulder at Wu.
“I’ll bring the lube,” he sneered. “Let’s go boys,” he ordered.
We followed Jack out, walking backward through the restaurant with our guns held high in case one of these assholes decided to get stupid with us. We were halfway out the door when Wolf decided to send another message, walking back through the shattered door, the crazy fuck shot at the ducks that hung in the front window.
“You’re fucking crazy, you know that?” Pipe asked him.
“Fuck you, the kid said he wanted to go hunting,” he argued, pointing to me. “It just happens to be duck season,” he said as he climbed onto his bike.
“Quack, quack, bitches,” he called over his shoulder.
I loved Wolf, truly loved him.
Shit, that was kind of gay.
“Yo,” Bones called as he revved his engine. “We need to get your ass home and I don’t mean the Dog Pound,” he said, daring me to argue. “Your girl’s worried about you,” he added.
My girl.
“She knows what happened?”
“Nah, but she knows something is up. When we couldn’t get a hold of you I went to the apartment,” he explained, kicking up his kick stand. “Dude, you fuck that up and you’re the dumbest man on the face of the Earth,” he continued.
“You got a thing for my Kitten, Bonesy?”
“Man, every man breathing wants a woman like your Kitten,” he replied, peeling off in front of me.
Yeah, I imagine they did.
Chapter Twenty-Three
I heard the doorknob jiggle and sprang to my feet, hurrying toward the door. It swung open before I could get to it and Riggs stumbled into the apartment.
“Oh, thank God,” I said, rushing to meet him. Instead of over thinking everything like I usually did when it came to him, I did what I felt and wrapped my arms around him.
“Aww, Kitten, I missed you too,” he said, wrapping one arm around my waist. I heard the sharp hiss escape his mouth and I pulled back, gasping as I took in his face.
“Riggs,” I whispered, lifting my fingertips to his bruised cheek.
“It looks worse than it really is,” he offered, kicking the door closed, dragging m
e against him and turning the dead bolt on the door.
I twisted in his arms and rose on tiptoe to inspect his eyes. They were mostly swollen shut and a butterfly stitch was placed in the corner of his right eye.
“It looks clean,” I commented, cupping his face with my hands and turning his cheek to inspect the other eye. There was blood in the corner of his eye, hinting to a bleed but nothing too severe. I dropped my hands to his shoulders and ran them down his arms. I had never seen him in anything other than jeans—tonight Riggs was wearing a loose pair of black sweats and a gray fitted hoodie, looking less of a biker and more like a laid back trainer. I don’t know where he had the time to workout but he definitely made it his business.
No one ate chocolate pudding and cookies and looked as good as he did.
I wanted to drag the zipper of his hoodie down with my teeth and trace his abs with my tongue.
I bit my lip and rubbed my sweaty palms against my thighs.
“Are you okay?” I asked, hoarsely.
“I’m fine babe,” he assured, taking my hand and walking us toward the couch. He paused and bent down to lift the baseball bat that sat next to the couch. He winced again, sighing heavily in pain, before straightening up and glancing back at me with a smirk.
God, that smirk.
“Practicing your swing?” he teased, sitting down on the couch and pulling me onto his lap.
This was new.
“It’s a precautionary measure,” I insisted.
“Right,” he laughed. “Little Miss Safety,” he quipped, reaching up and pushing my hair over my shoulder. “Sorry I missed batting practice, Kitten,” he said huskily, as his eyes dropped to my lips.
“I know enough to know I’m not supposed to ask questions but…” I wrapped my arms around his neck, “…it’s kind of hard not to ask, looking at you like this,” I said, as I ran my fingers up the back of his neck where the rim of the backward baseball cap rested.
“Lauren,” he protested as I pulled the hat off his head. “Shit,” he ground out.
“What the hell is this?” I demanded, moving the hat out of his reach as he tried to take it back.
“My barber got mad at me,” he tried to cover, offering me his smile, knowing I was a sucker for it. But it wouldn’t work this time. He usually wore a hat but the few times he didn’t—I loved Riggs’ hair. It was the perfect length to run my fingers through, and even though I hadn’t done it all that often, if ever, some asshole with a razor robbed me of the chance.
The Tempted Series: Collectors Edition Page 106
