by Debra Kayn
He used the edge of his leather vest to unscrew the suppressor. The aroma of scorched leather wafted into his nostrils. He bounced the piece in his hand until it cooled enough to pocket.
Then, he used his flannel shirt to wipe down the pistol. He squatted beside the body and used Big's hand to put prints all over the weapon before he placed it down on the concrete beside him.
If the police and courts wanted to follow the autopsy evidence, they could follow the trail back to Cusclan's clubhouse.
Stepping over the blood pooling at his feet, he left the garage. Making his way through the house, he wiped down doorknobs, corners, and the sliding glass door. Then, he retraced his steps, staying out of the view of the neighbors on the other side of the house.
Once he was clear, he picked up his pace and jogged.
Priest spotted him and got on his motorcycle. Whip kept going until he reached his Harley. They started the bikes simultaneously and rode off together, going in the opposite direction of Big's house.
Nobody would see them leave.
Twenty minutes later, they were on the highway, headed toward Missoula. Whip tried to calm the paranoia to look behind him as he rode away.
Killing Big never made him blink. Only the fear of going back to prison kept him hyperaware.
Priest kept watch for him.
Every half-mile, he'd catch Priest's gaze in his side mirror. Whip would lift a finger off the handlebar in answer.
Twyla's troubles were over.
She'd gained her freedom to live her life, and he would spend every minute loving her.
He sped up, anxious to get back to her. Priest lowered his hand, slowing him down. He looked in his side mirror.
In the distance, Montana State Patrol dogged him.
His hand tightened on the throttle. He could outrun the cops. Take the next exit, stay on the backroads, and lose himself in the mountains.
Red and blue lights flashed behind him, reflecting off the mirror. He tensed, looking straight ahead and ready to take whatever signal Priest threw his way.
The blast of a siren permeated the helmet on his head. And, still, the noise was quieter than the pounding of his heart.
The patrol officer caught up beside him in the left lane. His eyes burned, fighting the instinct to look over.
He checked his speedometer. By the time his gaze came back on the road ahead of him, the cop had passed Priest and kept going.
Fuck.
The air in his lungs escaped. He caught Priest's concern in the mirror. Whip shook his head, more relieved than he wanted to admit.
He was done running recklessly with his life. He needed to stay on the outside because there was someone more important for him, expecting him to return.
He rode toward Missoula. Toward Twyla. Toward home.
Chapter 34
Twyla
Tracy sat beside Twyla on the bed. Shoulder to shoulder, she refrained from talking. There was nothing more to say.
Hours had passed since Whip walked out of the clubhouse. Hours had passed since Whip had kissed her. Hours had passed since Whip made the decision to risk everything.
Whip's sister understood the thoughts going through Twyla's head. There was no need to voice her worries again because the answer was always the same.
Twyla inhaled deeper. No matter how hard or fast she tried to get more air into her lungs, she fought the sensation that she couldn't breathe.
The riders who'd come back to the clubhouse an hour ago were only scouts that'd returned to wait for Whip.
"He's going to be okay," said Tracy.
"Yes." Twyla nodded. "He'll come back."
They'd had the same conversation several times since Tracy found her sitting in the bedroom. At first, she wanted to be alone. But, to her surprise, having Tracy beside her brought her comfort.
In a way, Tracy gave her a piece of Whip. They were family, after all.
She hadn't seen Tracy's strength until today. The woman was strong, emotionally, and physically, and it came from deep down inside of her.
Tracy had survived something horrendous and she had made her life beautiful with a loving husband and two beautiful children.
Aaron popped his head in the room. "Coffee?"
She shook her head.
"Drink?"
She shook her head again.
"You'll let us know when you want something?"
"Yeah." She leaned more on Tracy. "We will."
Once they were alone, she let out her breath. It was hard to pretend everything was okay around the others. Waiting for Whip was the hardest thing she'd ever done in her life.
She'd take a thousand fights with Angie or lose her job or deal with her parents' disappointment over sitting here waiting for Whip. Her imagination went crazy. She thought up a hundred different reasons why he hadn't arrived at the clubhouse yet.
All of her reasons were bad.
She got up, jolting Tracy in surprise. "Come on."
Tracy stood. "Where are we going?"
Her neck snapped in surprise, and she blinked at Tracy. As simple as that, Whip's sister never told her no. She was ready to go wherever she asked.
"I'm tired of sitting here, driving myself crazy." She planted her hands on her hips. "We need to do something."
"Okay." Tracy pushed up her shirt sleeves. "Did you want to eat something? The other ladies brought food."
"No." She looked at the door of the room. "We can go in the alley behind the clubhouse, right?"
"Uh, yeah. Probably. They have the gates closed."
"Let's go out there."
"It's like ten o'clock at night." Tracy blew out her breath. "Rick wouldn't want me to—"
"Tell him we want to go outside. He can come with us." More determined the more she talked, she led Tracy out to the hallway and stopped. "Go get him."
"Wait here for me. I don't want you to go out there without us."
"I won't." She waited until Tracy walked into the other room and then paced.
Nervous energy filled her. She had to do something. If she couldn't help Whip, she needed to do something for herself.
Tracy returned with Rick. She shuddered under the glare she received from Tracy's husband until she realized he wasn't angry at her for interrupting his night, but his growing concern for his wife tended to make him surly.
"What's this about?" Rick looked at her without dipping his chin.
Not to be cowered into changing her mind, she started walking toward the back door. "We just want to go in the alley."
She pushed through the door. The darkness lit by the streetlight at the end of the long, narrow space gave her hope. It wasn't good to stay shut up in the clubhouse for hours, knowing she couldn't leave and afraid of what was beyond the gates.
Goosebumps appeared on her arms as the night air settled around her. The late hour only compressed on her worries that Whip should've been back by now.
"What are we going to do?" Tracy rubbed her bare arms.
"Run." She turned and smiled. "I'll race you."
"Like run-run?" Tracy frowned. "In a foot race?"
That's exactly what they needed. They both were walking around in a fog. Hit with the reality that they couldn't do anything but wait, she needed to do something. They both needed to do something.
She grabbed Tracy's hand and pulled her to the end of the alley. Looking over her shoulder, she glanced at Rick. "Are you joining us?"
Rick shook his head. She shrugged. Knowing he was anxious over how Tracy was handling everything, she decided not to press him. He'd done enough by letting them come outside.
At the gate, she stopped and turned around. There was a good one hundred and fifty feet between the two gates and all the empty space they needed.
She planted one foot in front of the other and leaned over, bracing her hands above her knee. "We'll race past Rick. The first one to touch the gate at the other end wins."
"I'm not a runner." Tracy's embarrassed laugh filled t
he night. "I haven't run since P.E. in high school."
Twyla looked at her. "What was that? A year ago?"
Tracy snorted. "Longer than that."
"Put everything you have into it. You run after those kids all day long. You're in better shape than I am." Twyla looked forward, narrowed her eyes, and said, "On your mark. Get set. Go!"
She burst forward, instantly realizing how awkward and stiff she'd become through the night. Her legs moved as if held down by extra weight. Her chest pounded, shocking her heart. She panted, trying to gain enough air. Pumping her arms, her muscles burned.
Without Whip, she was dying inside. Running, struggling, fighting for each step, each breath, each movement, showed her that she was alive and fighting for him to come back to her.
The soles of her Reebok's slapped the ground. Tracy, keeping pace, pushed her forward. Within yards of the gate, she kept going.
The more she ran, the more hope filled her.
She ran straight into the gate, catching herself, holding on to the metal bars to keep from falling. Tracy met the barrier beside her. Twyla sagged, out of breath, lightheaded, and sobbed in joy. She looked at Whip's sister and met her wild gaze. Understanding passed between them, and they fell into each other's arms, holding on to the optimism spilling forth.
"He's coming back," she whispered.
"He's coming back." Tracy panted. "He's too bullheaded."
She laughed through her crying. "The most stubborn man I know."
"Tougher than most men."
Agreeing with her, Twyla looped her arm around Tracy's shoulder and held her to her side. "I don't know about you, but I could drink a gallon of water. I'm so out of shape."
"That about killed me." Tracy walked with her.
"Whose stupid idea was it to run?" She hip-checked Tracy, making fun of herself. "God, I needed that."
"Me, too." Tracy stopped and looked up at Rick. "You should've raced us."
"I don't run." Rick studied the two of them. "I don't think I want to know what that was about."
Twyla looked at Tracy, sharing the moment, and laughed. "Probably not," they said in unison.
"Let's go get a drink," said Tracy.
"And sit." Twyla groaned. "My thighs are quivering."
"Mine, too."
She let go of Tracy in the hallway and fanned her overheated face. Bolstered by the boost in positive energy, she entered the clubhouse to find everyone jumping from their positions around the room. It took her three seconds to realize there was a rumble coming from in front of the building.
Tracy grabbed her hand. She squeezed, afraid of getting her hopes up.
Curley walked to the door, inched it open, and peeked out. Twyla held her breath. The noise of the new arrivals outside quieted.
Silence swept through the room. She stared at Curley's back, wanting to rush past him and look for herself, and too scared to take a step forward.
Curley slipped outside. The door closed behind him without her knowing what was happening and who had arrived. It could be a number of people coming.
During her stay at the clubhouse, hundreds of men came through the door on any given day. It could be anyone.
Several minutes passed. Back on edge, she hugged herself as Rick left Tracy's side and walked to the entrance. He went outside.
"He's going out there to see," whispered Tracy. "Whip's going to be okay."
"Yes, he is," she whispered back.
The door opened and the void filled with a tall, broad, strong, wild-looking man. She gasped, relief weakening her knees as Whip strode straight toward her and caught her before her knees hit the floor.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, plastering her body against his. He kissed her hard, stealing every bit of pain from her chest and healing her heart.
Pulling back, she framed his face with her hands, studying him. "You're okay?"
"I'm good." His low vibrato vibrated through her. "Have you been thinking about my question?"
With her head scrambled at his arrival, she tried to remember what he'd asked her before he'd left.
His gaze intensified, hitting her low in her belly. She remembered.
"Are we having babies?" he asked.
She buried her head in his neck, inhaling deeply, reminded that he was here. He'd come back. He hadn't changed his mind about loving her or been killed.
She took his earlobe with her lips. "Are you still planning on taking me to the courthouse?"
He lifted her off her feet. "Damn right, I am."
"Then, yes," she whispered. "I'll have your babies."
He set her down on her feet, captured her mouth, and showed her what her answer had done to him. She kissed him back, wishing they were alone, naked, and she could get as close to him as humanly possible.
His chest expanded, and he pressed his forehead against her forehead and pulled his mouth away. "I need to meet with the others. Can you hang on for a half-hour or so more?"
"Yes." She kissed him quickly. "I'll be around...for a lifetime or more."
He growled, squeezing her tight. Filled with love, she made a promise that she would do anything for her man.
Stepping away from her, Whip signaled the others. On the way to the meeting room, he stopped and let Tracy hug him. They whispered. Twyla could tell by the serious expressions on their faces how important it was for both of them to have that moment together.
She hugged her middle, trying to contain her joy. Tonight, for how horrible it was to live through and how many emotions were ripped from her heart, she needed the reminder of how much Whip loved her.
And how much she loved him.
Whatever being part of Tarkio Motorcycle Club brought them in the future, she could handle loving him. Every minute, every day, every year.
Chapter 35
Whip
Twyla stopped Whip at the threshold of the house. He refused to let go of her hand. Not at the courthouse. Not on the ride home. Not until he had her in bed and he had his cock planted deep in her body.
"You forgot something." Twyla smiled so sweetly, he would've taken her on the porch, except Tarkio members were coming over in an hour, and what he wanted to do to her would take up every minute they had alone.
"What's that?" He kissed her, having a hard time pulling away from her glossy lips. "We're hitched. You're mine. That's all I need to remember."
She stroked his face. "I want you to carry me into the house."
Whatever she wanted; he'd do. He picked her up, cradling her against his chest. Stepping into the house, he kicked the door shut.
He groaned. "I'm not going to make it to the bedroom."
"Am I too heavy?" She sucked on his neck.
"Sis, I've been hard as a fucking rock the moment you walked those sexy legs toward me at the courthouse." He strode toward the hallway.
"A rock, hm?" She laughed against his neck.
Her tongue stroked the crook of his shoulder. He stepped into the room and put her on the bed. The sight of her laid out in front of him, stopped him from his intentions.
Seeing her in the white sundress, her breasts heaving over the material, and the hem bunched up around the top of her thighs, she fucking glowed. He'd never seen her in a dress before.
She was beautiful. Beyond anything, he'd ever seen or imagined.
"Whip?" She held out her hand.
He whistled softly. "Can't get enough of you."
"You can have all of me if you come to bed."
He leaned over and took off his boots, his socks, his vest. Setting the pistol on the floor beside the bed, he unlatched his belt and pulled off his jeans. It'd been hours since he'd had her soft skin against him.
She sat up, reaching for the hem of her dress.
"Leave it on." He stretched out beside her and ran his hand up her dress, stroking her thigh. "You're beautiful."
"I'm happy." She rolled to her side and hung her leg over his bare hip. "Seeing you standing there beside me in front of the Ju
stice of Peace was the best moment of my life."
His cock pulsed harder. He thrust forward, sliding between her legs, and watched her eyes flutter at the intrusion.
Pleasure shot down his legs and his ass clenched. He slipped his hand behind her neck and pulled her mouth to him. Slipping his tongue into her, he held his lower half still, letting her feel how much he filled her.
Twyla shuddered, lifting her leg and pressing her pelvis forward. He groaned. Even that little movement threatened to undo him.
She slid her hand along his ribs, going under his arm. He gave her another inch, slowly moving back and forth.
It would be easy to come. Too easy.
He wished he had more time between now and when they'd have a house full of Tarkio members. He'd spend all fucking day inside of her.
Sucking on her tongue, he lowered his hand over the slope of her hip and gripped the curved bone. His balls throbbed. She was slick and warm, even though she'd gone without panties throughout the whole ceremony with the JP directing them to swear to love and honor.
She'd gone bare on purpose, having whispered her gift to him as they walked up the steps into the building. There was no doubt that she was his woman.
Ballsy.
Brave.
Daring.
Hearing how she was with his sister when Tracy needed her the most took him to his knees when Rick told him what'd happened at the clubhouse the night he'd gone after Big.
He lifted his head, looking down her body, and jerked her closer, locking their bodies together. She was made for him.
He moved her hips with his. The sweet tightness of her pussy squeezed down on him.
Her body stirred in a wave along the length of him. Holding her tighter, he made longer strokes.
Pushed. Pulled. Slid. Thrust.
Her breathing grew shallow. His breath grew heavy.
He couldn't get over the idea that she was his. Not one who thought he wanted a marriage certificate, he now wanted to frame the damn thing and hang it on a nail in the fucking living room.
Her skin flushed. He moved faster inside her.
Atop him, her leg trembled. "Whip?"
She caught her lower lip and arched. He rolled and braced above her. As he supported himself with his arms, he pounded into her.
