by Cat Porter
“What the hell is going on?” Mindy grabbed at me.
“Get back,” I said on a hiss, shoving her away.
I snaked in between the men and women. They parted for me. I slid the safety on my 9mm, the clicking sound of the metal making me high.
Here I am, motherfucker.
Catch’s wild eyes found mine. Eyes of a rabid dog, eyes I’d seen so many times before on men and women who thought they had the upper hand on me, eyes that I quickly drained of their arrogance with a look, a shot, a slice, a slam.
I aimed my gun at his face.
“There he is!” He shook Jill in his grip. “Did you forget your whore tonight?”
“Let her go. Now.” My voice pierced the night air.
A venomous grin split his face.
“Catch, it’s not Jill’s baby!” Grace said.
“You know how stupid you sound right now, Grace? You smoking the special house weed, drinking their juju juice?”
“It’s my baby,” Grace replied.
“What?” Catch’s face twisted.
Grace stood still in front of him, Butler’s hand gripping her arm. “Jill’s my surrogate. She’s carrying my baby for me. Now, let her go!”
Leaning into Jill, Catch slanted his gun toward Grace. “What the fuck, babe? You sold yourself to them?”
Jill cringed and shrank in his hold.
“You doing this shit for money? You—”
Catch’s head jerked back in one hard swift motion, his eyes popping open wide like a spooked horse. Lock angled his long knife at the fucker’s throat, his other hand thrusting in Catch’s hair, yanking his head back further.
“Drop the gun, let her go, and get on your knees. NOW!” Lock’s voice boomed, his black eyes glinting.
Gasps and a needling jittery silence reigned. Adrenaline rapid-fired through me, all my senses focusing on Catch’s face still in my range.
Butler let out a hiss as he twisted the gun from Catch’s hand. I moved forward and peeled the fucker’s grip off of Jill, and she fell into my arms.
I pulled her behind me and pressed my gun into Catch’s forehead. “You do not touch my woman ever again. ”
Catch staggered. “Your woman?”
“And you do not spy on her, motherfucker,” I continued. “Ever. You hear?”
Lock pulled on Catch’s arms, pinning them behind his back, and Catch grunted, stumbling.
I tilted my head back, eyeing him. “Jill is mine.”
Mine.
Jill shuddered, clutching at me, pressing into my back. Her tremors jolted my heart into overdrive, into my new millennium. Her arms wrapped tightly around my middle.
“You need to respect the mother of your kid, and you need to respect my old lady,” I continued. “Basic principles in life, which are obviously still beyond you.” I twisted the gun against his head, grinding it into his skull. “I think you need a lesson.”
“Your old lady?” He struggled against Lock’s hold.
“My old lady.”
There. I’d fucking said those words for the first time.
My heart banged against my ribs, as if I’d snorted too much blow. But there wasn’t any coke in my system. There was only Jill. Me holding on to Jill and Jill holding on to me. My body surged with the rush, the high intense.
“Jill? Jill!” Catch shouted, straining toward her.
Jill stepped to my side, an arm still around me, wiping at her face as she straightened her head. “I’m with Boner.” Her voice was steel, her gaze hard. “And I’m carrying Grace and Lock’s baby.”
Catch bucked off of Lock with a grunt, but Lock snatched him back in, shaking him like a marionette on strings, muttering threats in his ear.
I pushed Jill toward Grace and Lenore, and the three of them scrambled out of the way.
“He here on his own?” I asked Lock, my eyes and gun remaining on the trash at hand.
“Looks that way,” Lock replied, still holding the blade at Catch’s throat.
“I’m here, and he’s a brother. What the fuck?” muttered Led.
Nina stood beside her bodyguard from home. Led was a fucking Flame brother to Catch, albeit from another chapter. The two other Flames from Ohio stood at Led’s side.
“We got a few personal issues we need to iron out here, Led,” Butler said. “Gotta be dealt with.”
“The fuck you say.”
“Shit’s gotta be dealt with,” Butler said, raising his voice. “No more, no less than what he deserves.”
“Enough of this fucking chitchat.” I gestured at Tricky and Dawes. “Cellar.”
“Let go of me! Fucking Jacks!” shouted Catch.
Lock kicked Catch, and he sprawled to the ground.
Butler stood before Catch. “You fucking idiot. Such an idiot.” Butler jerked his head at Dawes and then in the direction of the clubhouse.
Tricky and Dawes grabbed Catch’s arms and hoisted him upright. They dragged the asshole through the courtyard and inside the building with Led and the other two Flames behind them.
I lowered my gun and sucked in air as I turned to Jill. Gripping her by the neck, I planted a kiss on her mouth, thick curls of her hair tickling my face. “You’re staying with me here tonight.”
“Okay,” she breathed, her eyes lifting to mine.
Yes, mine. All fucking mine.
“Did he hurt you?”
“No, no—”
“What’s this then?” I held her chin, my eyes glued to the purplish-red mark on her cheek.
“He slapped me.”
“He’s gonna pay.”
“Boner—” Her fingers dug into my shirt.
I pressed my forehead into hers. “I’m not gonna kill him—not tonight. But he’s gonna learn his lesson.” My gaze skimmed down her body. Short leggings, T-shirt, flip flops. “Jesus, he dragged you out here like this? On his bike?”
She only nodded, her breath choppy.
“Motherfucker—”
Her hands cupped my face, and she kissed me.
Was it to shut me up, stop my rage? Or was it for her own relief and reassurance?
I had to control my shit and give her that reassurance now. That was what she needed.
Fuck, I need it, too.
I kissed her hard taking her in my arms, pressing her against me, warming her. “Stay with Grace until I get back, okay?” I forced my voice to come out gentle.
“I need to call Rae, make sure she and Becca are okay,” she said hoarsely.
“Jill, let’s go inside and call them,” said Grace, touching her arm.
I shot Grace a look. “Take her to my room, stay with her.” I brushed Jill’s forehead with my lips and stalked off toward the clubhouse.
“Your old lady?” Mindy caught up with me, matching my long strides, her eyes flaring. “Since fucking when? If I’d known that, I—”
I kept moving. “Get the fuck out of my way.”
HIS BLOOD SOAKED MY SHIRT and stained my knuckles.
And I fucking loved it. But I always loved this.
A rush of white heat surged through my veins and filled my pumping heart to the edge of erupting. I nicked his neck with my knife, my other hand yanking his head back.
Eye-to-eye.
The tension in the room was absolutely mouthwatering.
“Say it again, motherfucker.”
“Jill is yours.” Blood spilled out of his nostrils. Blood tinted his teeth, seeped over his broken lips. “Jill ain’t mine. She’s…she’s your woman. All yours.”
“You fucking touched her. You hit her, you cocksucker.” I seized his middle finger and bent it all the way back.
Catch howled, his body flinching. The loud pop and snap filled my ears as a loud moan broke from his throat. I twisted the loose digit and then shook it.
His skin drained of all color, his lips loose, his sweat and blood splattering at my feet. Warmth spread through me, and the room slowly came back into focus. Butler against a wall, Kicker and Dready against t
he door. Lock at my side.
Lock punched him, and Catch collapsed with a satisfying crunch to the floor.
Jump approached the douche bag. “Now that we’ve all made our points real clear”—he shot me a look, and I pushed back from Catch’s heaving body, my hand flicking out in a take-it-away-Prez gesture—“why don’t you tell us what this is really all about? This has to be about more than pussy.”
Catch coughed and spit on the floor. “Tell me you all haven’t sweet-talked her into telling you shit.”
“Like what?” asked Jump.
“’Bout the Flames of Hell.”
“We don’t strong-arm chicks unless we really have to. And, as far as I know, shit between our clubs is good. Isn’t it? Or maybe you got cause for what I see as this fucking out-of-control paranoia?”
“The Broken Blades have been shitting on us lately. We’ve had deals and agreements in place for years. Suddenly, they’re reneging on ’em. That shit with Creeper kidnapping my kid a few months ago was only the beginning. He thinks I owe him more than what I paid him for doing some side work for us. Then, he goes over to the Blades and does shit for them, too. Bottom line, Creeper was a Jack once upon a time. What do you want me to think? Jill—”
“Eh!” Kicker shoved the point of his cowboy boot into Catch’s ribs.
Catch choked. “I mean, Boner’s old lady.” He coughed and swallowed hard. “She comes up here, gets cozy with you, and it would be the obvious choice for the Blades or you to get to me.”
“Finger okay this bullshit you pulled tonight?”
“He only knows I came to see my kid. When I saw—”
“Boner’s old lady is a good girl,” Jump said. “She’s real special to us. Last thing we’d want to do is put her on the spot, make things uncomfortable for her. We don’t do that to one of our own.”
Lock made a noise in the back of his throat, and I threw him a glance. I had to agree. Jump could twist shit when and how he liked. He’d done it with all of us at one point or another, most recently Grace. The mark of a fine leader.
“The Blades have been assholes for a long while now. Sounds like we have a few things to talk about. But I ain’t in the mood now, for some reason.” Jump moved toward the door, followed by Lock and Kicker.
Catch’s head sank back on the floor. “You should make the time.”
Jump slanted his head. “Oh, yeah?”
“You ever heard of the Calderas Group?”
“New tacos from Mexico?” muttered Jump.
“No, asshole.”
Dready shoved his boot into Catch’s side. I lit a cigarette.
Catch coughed up blood, and a gob of red slobber fell from his mouth. “They’re from Denver. Gangbangers gone upscale. Been playing footsie with the Blades, and Notch has been licking their brown dicks. Finger ain’t happy. You should check ’em out and then come lick my dick.”
Dready punched Catch hard across the jaw, and his head fell to the side, his eyes snagging on mine. I spit on his face.
“Who’s running their show?” I asked.
Catch jerked his head at the sharp sound of my voice. “This ‘Spic. Calderone. Alejandro Calderone.”
My breathing suspended for a split second at the sound of that name. My muscles locked, my head stiffly drawing back.
I motioned at Dawes and Tricky, and they picked up Catch and dragged him from the cellar, through the kitchen, out the lounge, down the hall, and out the door. They dragged him across the dirt and gravel, past the gate that lay open just for him. The boys dumped him on the road, and Led crouched over him.
I tossed my cigarette by his sorry ass. “You have a good night.”
I charged back into the clubhouse and poured myself a whiskey. I stretched my arms against the bar and struggled for air.
“Bro, you okay?” Dawes asked.
“Go away.”
“You sure?”
My body shook. “Go!”
A running soundtrack of screaming voices and spurting blood and cracking bones filled my ears.
Promises broken.
Oaths sworn.
Curses invoked.
Dreams destroyed.
Alejandro’s fucking voice jumped in my head. “One day, I’m going to come for you, and I’m going to take it all away.”
Then, I’d had no dreams left, my dreams had petered out, drained away.
Once I became a Jack, my only focus had become survival and a good time doing it.
But now I had a dream.
Now, I had Jill.
My hands dug in my hair as a wave of nausea surged up my throat and yanked on my insides. All the reasons not to be together with Jill, not to make a life with anyone, reared their ugly heads and laughed at me.
I had put hundreds of miles of road between me and the Calderones. I had changed my name, kept away, laid low.
It didn’t matter, though, did it? Hearing Catch say his name just now proved that.
But tonight—tonight—I had finally given into the temptation, to the promise of her. I’d tasted that rightness singing in my blood, filling my arms. I had found the one thing I had always wanted but had refused myself for fear it would be threatened, taken away.
How can I go back to being that man again? How can I go back to being without? To being without her?
I couldn’t. No fucking way.
I would protect her with every ounce of whatever strength and cunning was left in me.
I would hold on to what I had claimed.
To Jill.
To my own life.
Hold on for as long as I could, for as long as it would last.
“YOU ARE THE BEST FOOT AND LEG MASSAGER EVER.”
“I learned from the best,” said Grace.
“Lock?”
She grinned. “Mmhmm. He spoils me rotten.”
“You’re spoiling me rotten now.”
Grace and Lenore had taken me to Boner’s room and given me a ginger ale to drink. I’d insisted on taking a shower, and then Grace had handed me a T-shirt of Boner’s to wear. Lenore had left soon after.
Tears clouded my eyes. “I’m sorry about all this.”
Grace glanced up at me. “What do you have to be sorry about?” She rubbed her thumbs into the sides of my calf muscles.
“Catch and our never-ending drama. I should’ve told him sooner. I kept putting it off. I knew he’d freak out. I—”
“Jill, he chose to lose it. He chose to drag you here and stake some sort of Neanderthal claim where there is no claim for him to make. Even if the baby you’re carrying were yours and not mine, he’d have had no right to behave the way he did. Yeah, they’re his crazy emotions, and Catch has always been a fireball since he was a kid, but he’s not a kid anymore. He put your life in danger, even his own with the way he came out here and the shit he said.”
Her hands traveled down to my feet again, her thumbs focusing on my arches.
“They’re teaching him a lesson now, aren’t they?” I asked.
“I think you know the answer to that.” She released my feet and rubbed her hands together, the light, clean fragrance of her moisturizer lingering between us. “Are you feeling guilty about that?”
I dropped my head back against the headboard and stared at the ceiling. “No, I can’t say that I am.”
“Good.”
I took her hand in mine. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome. Do you want some more ginger ale? Lenore brought this bottle of water, too.”
“I’m all set.”
“You okay with staying here tonight?”
“Better, now that we spoke with Rae, and I know that she and Becca are okay.”
“Thank God for Martha the neighbor, huh? She kept things calm and got them both in bed for the evening.”
“She’s such a good person.”
Meager was a good town with good people. But I had brought the bad. The bad to Rae, the bad to my daughter, and now, the bad to Grace.
My c
hest caved in, my lungs squeezed.
“Jill? Honey, look at me.” Grace’s voice got woozy. “Breathe with me. Come on. Listen to my voice. Let’s count, okay?”
My throat tightened, my skin prickling. “You do that, too?” I gasped for a breath.
“For years now. Count with me. Here we go. Breathe in slowly. That’s it.”
“One, two, three, four.”
“Hold. One, two, three—”
I held my breath and heard my voice join Grace’s. “Four.”
“Release.”
“One, two, three, four.”
All my focus went into my breathing, my counting. I stared at Grace’s hand firmly on mine. Her beautiful diamond eternity bands were all lined up on her ring finger.
Yes, the diamonds.
I held them in my line of sight and gave them my spinning emotions. My fear, my panic, twisted out of me and headed for the diamonds.
Mole tied me up to the bed, the headboard rattled and banged against the wall.
The rope burned into my wrists.
His gleeful sweaty face above me.
His sour breath steaming over me.
“Breathe,” came Grace’s steady voice, breaking through the images.
Give it all to the diamonds.
“One, two, three, four,” I intoned.
“I’m gonna fuck you like a train, bitch, and you’re gonna love it! Choo-choo!”
That “beloved” flashback played out against the back of my eyes like a movie.
“You gimme the pizzas for free, and I’ll let you play with her. Just don’t fuck her pussy. That’s all for me.”
My chest squeezed.
It’s just a flashback, images, a memory. It can’t hurt me. I am more than a memory. I am more than a memory.
“Hold.”
“I’ve never fucked a pair of titties before. Can I do that?”
“As long as I get to watch while I eat those pizzas you got.”
My neck went limp.
I’m here on Boner’s bed, in Boner’s room, at the One-Eyed Jacks in Meager, South Dakota. Becca is safe with her grandma. I am not alone. I’m with Grace.
