“They’re going to hit you tonight,” I whispered. “I don’t know when. We have to leave.”
“How do you know?”
“I...I just do.”
His fingers dug in. Hard.
“They sent a note,” I said. “Something to taunt me. Luke doesn’t know. This is all Ex. You have to get somewhere safe.”
“They sent you a fucking note?” His voice thickened with a brutal threat tempered only by heavy arousal. “What the hell happened when they grabbed you?”
I shook my head. The dancing came easier with his hands guiding me. My hips rolled over his, forth and back, rocking my body over his waist and grinding a warming part of me over his excitement. I shivered, my mind blanking to all but the roughness of his jeans, the cool air whispering over my breasts, the threat of his gaze venturing beyond where his hands touched.
“Nothing happened.” The lie came easier while I rubbed against him.
His hands tightened. We both stilled, but I didn’t know how much longer it could last. The hardness strained in his pants, and my trembling transcended fear and warmed with irresponsible lust. My fingers traced over his cut. The word President tickled my fingertip.
It was the first time the title excited me.
The music pulsed harder. I never thought I’d like R&B so much. The drums, the sexy bass, the noise. I leaned in close as the thumping melody deafened me to everything but my heartbeat.
His wild leather scent made the whisper more my pleasure than his warning. I brushed my chest against his vest.
“Lyn and I have a plan. I can short-circuit the electronics. Make a lot of smoke and maybe scatter everyone. Then you can get my brothers and get somewhere safe.”
“I’m not leaving you,” he said.
“I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
Shadows crossed behind us. Keep shouted to Thorne.
His hand gripped my hair, and he pulled me onto his lips.
This wasn’t part of the dance. It wasn’t part of the rescue. Or the warning. Or the plan.
But I seized his kiss as if it were the first, last, and only pleasure I would ever receive. His lips crushed mine. A bruising, ferocious conquering that stole my breathless apprehension and demanded something greater. Something hot and pounding and harmonizing that bound me to him in flesh and promise.
The music muffled. The club twisted away. The danger evaporated. My every thought, the only pulsing desire in my body, ached for more of his kiss, another brush of his lips, and the lash of his tongue.
He kissed me to protect me from my brothers. To help blend me in with the rest of the bare flesh in the club. But his strained breath, the clutching of his hands, the claiming of my desire was all for him.
And I would have given it to him.
Thorne’s grip tightened. The shot fired into the couch and exploded into charred stuffing before I realized someone aimed for us. Thorne dove, tossing me to the ground. My battered head smacked the hardwood, but his muscular body protected me, shielding me from the frenzy of bullets blitzing through the club.
He meant to push me through the floor. The air squeezed from my lungs, but we were safe. I twisted to hide from the crackling gunfire. Keep and Brew dropped to the ground, shouting over the firefight. Keep pulled his gun. Brew narrowed his eyes.
“Rose?” His shock raged into horror as he glanced over my body. “What the fu—”
Gold returned shots, and Scotch overturned his table. The dancers screamed and sought cover. My brothers aimed their weapons.
A gun cocked over our heads. Thorne stilled as the barrel of the nine millimeter bumped his temple. Exorcist grinned down at us, his greasy smile slick with lust as he studied my chest.
“Picked a pretty dancer, Thorne.” Exorcist nudged the gun harder against his head. “Call off your men and I won’t smear her brains on your cut.”
Thorne glanced to his side. Gold, Scotch, and my brothers aimed their weapons at different targets. Keep swore as he recognized me.
“Where the hell are your clothes?” He yelled. His eyes snapped to Ex. “Fucking hell, let her go. She hasn’t done a goddamned thing to you.”
Brew leapt over Keep before he dove for Exorcist. His gun wove from Thorne to me.
“Rose, Rose, Rose.” The barrel grazed my head. My cheek. My breast. Thorne growled. My brothers raised their guns. “You did grow up, didn’t you?”
I wished he’d just shoot me. His dead eyes studied Thorne.
“She’s a troubled one, this girl. You’re in for a world of therapy and daddy issues if you fuck her.”
“Just kill me.” Thorne faced his death with a rage that would have frightened the reaper. “Let Rose go, kill me, and take your stolen empire. God help you when the next son-of-a-bitch with more balls than brains decides he wants to be president.”
“You take the fun out of it.” Exorcist kicked my skirt up. “At least let’s have some entertainment.”
Thorne moved faster than a man of his size had any right to attack, but Ex was slower than a man of his age should have been. He kicked out, connecting his foot against Ex’s knee. Ex crumpled, and Thorne dove over him. His fist crunched Ex’s nose, but the gun went off above Thorne’s shoulder. I screamed. Keep and Brew leapt over me and dragged me away from the firefight.
A second shot fired, but it wasn’t from Ex’s gun. Brew tucked me hard against his body and shielded my chest with a protective arm. Keep covered us with two guns, each poised and aimed in different directions.
“Everyone fucking stop.” Luke cocked his gun and pressed it against the base of Thorne’s skull. Thorne swore, but his piece still aimed for the silver hair peeking from Ex’s collar. “No one moves or I kill the president.”
“Better kill me now.” Thorne spoke between gritted teeth. His nose bled, but he was fortunate only his vest tore from where the bullet grazed his shoulder. “All this excitement gives me a weak trigger finger.”
“Let Ex up,” Luke said.
“Go to Hell.”
“The police are on their way.” Luke looked over the room. “Scanner called it in. Thorne lets Ex go, I let Thorne go, we don’t spend the night in jail sharing the fucking soap.”
“Always were afraid of prison.” Thorne snorted. “Knight in shining fucking armor. Too pretty to serve time.”
“Get off of Ex.”
“Shoot me.”
The gun rammed against his head. Thorne grimaced. Luke stared at me.
“Get him up, Rose.”
Brew tightened his hold. I gripped his arm. Every second of Thorne’s pain burst though me, mirrored in the tensing of his body, the grinding of his teeth, the frustration of his near death and the vengeance so near his hand.
My voice trembled. I feared more for the gun pointed at him than the ones aiming for me.
“Thorne, please,” I whispered. “Let’s just get out of here.”
“Yes, Thorne.” Exorcist laughed, mimicking my trembling voice. “Daddy, Please.”
Thorne narrowed his eyes. “You come near Rose again, and nothing will stop me from putting a bullet in your brain.”
“I can’t stay away from a sweet-ass like her.” Ex laughed, his potbelly rippling with each fat chortle. “But I’ll let her go without sampling the goods. This time.”
Luke frowned, but his scowl etched for Ex, not Thorne. “Get up.”
Thorne hesitated. I counted the loaded guns in the room. One shot would end Exorcist, but thirteen was an unlucky number for vengeance. The men stilled, and the pounding beat of a Brittany Spears song was the last sample I wanted to hear before an all-out war.
Thorne rose to his feet, but didn’t turn to face Luke. The gun pulled back. Reluctant.
“We leave first.” Luke called for his men, staring down Gold and Scotch. “Out. Now.”
Ex dusted off his cut and winked at me. Brew’s grip squeezed the air from my lungs, but I didn’t protest. Ex and Luke retreated from the club, guns still drawn, and slammed the
door behind them.
I didn’t care about my nudity. I fought away from Brew, pushed past Keep, and flung myself into Thorne’s arms. He wrapped me in a hug and curled a fist in my hair.
“You okay?”
I nodded.
“You’re riding with me. I don’t give a fuck if it scares you or not.”
I shivered. I couldn’t handle the bike. I couldn’t handle losing my life.
Losing my brothers.
Losing him.
“When we get back you are going to tell me what the hell just happened here.” His voice hardened. “And I don’t care if it scares you either.”
My stomach twitched. The dread curdled my stomach, and I slumped against him as Scotch offered me his jacket.
It’d take about twenty minutes to get to Pixie.
I had twenty minutes to think of a convincing story that would cover me, save Thorne, and protect Brew and Keep.
I hated to lie. Hated to betray the man who risked his life for mine.
I doubted he’d forgive my favor to Exorcist, but I didn’t need his kindness.
I just needed him to stay alive.
The kid feared my bike more than she feared me.
More than she feared whatever the hell just happened between Anathema and The Coup.
I didn’t know what fucked her up that bad.
The past week pointed enough guns between her baby bunny eyes to kick off a gang war in the middle of her forehead. She got kidnapped. Roughed up. Nearly set on fucking fire. And instead of panicking because she showcased her perfect tits to a bar loaded with meth-head bikers and psychopaths with hard-ons for blood, she shrunk inside Scotch’s jacket and searched the parking lot for another ride home.
“Luke took his bike.” I pushed my helmet at her. “Don’t even think about hotwiring Lyn’s car.”
Rose didn’t have sleeves to hide her emotions. She zipped the borrowed jacket up to her neck and tried to look tough without meeting my gaze.
“I’ll be fine.”
“I won’t drop you.”
She eased onto my bike. “I said I’ll be fine.”
If she weren’t half-naked and fighting with a scrap of plaid better suited for a napkin than skirt, I would have taught the kitten a lesson about hissing.
Then again, whatever happened the last time she shared a bike rattled her head to toe. She squeezed in close to me and shuddered. Not in a good way. Not like how she shivered against my lap in the club. Not like when she wiggled her little hips until I didn’t care how many bullets loaded into my brain. The blood wasn’t there anyway.
Rage and lust combined into a deadly frustration. I had been one jerked trigger away from ending the goddamned madness and seizing my vengeance against Exorcist. His death was a bigger fantasy than what wetted inside Rose’s panties.
But he was gone.
And Rose remained.
It shouldn’t have pissed me off. And her safety shouldn’t have felt better than the gun butting against Exorcist’s ugly head.
Fuck. I needed a hot shower and twenty minutes to jerk myself back into this dimension. Instead, she tucked up behind me and gripped my cut tight enough to press her entire body against mine. I couldn’t feel her tightened nipples against my vest, but I imagined how her legs spread around me. How the little white panties pressed against my waist.
God damn, the damage she’d do with those panties.
She danced on me. Smiled. Sighed.
Grinded those sweet hips with a combination baby-girl innocence and goddess lust. She tempted the devil, and I’d ruin her to discover if she had any other talents besides a delicate voice, the predisposition for trouble, and back-talking the one man who’d either deliver her to safety or fuck her into hell.
Except she trembled behind me on the bike. She lowered her head onto my shoulder and squeezed my chest.
She let Exorcist get away.
I let Exorcist get away.
I’d do anything to keep him from hurting her.
“You remember how to pack?” I grunted.
Brew and Keep watched us. The flare of Keep’s engine scared the hell out of her, and she scooted even closer to my body. Last thing I needed was her freaking out around a bend. She’d kill us if Exorcist ambushed Anathema on the 9.
“Rose, trust me.”
“I said I’m fine.”
Brew rolled up beside us. “You used to ride with Dad all the time.”
Her body stiffened. My cut crushed inside her palms. Brew didn’t notice. I did, and I knew better than to knock her away from the only thing steadying her.
“I didn’t like it then either. Not like you cared.” Rose hid her face. “Thorne, I want to leave.”
Brew frowned. Keep shrugged. None of this passive-aggressive bullshit belonged in the fucking club. She bitched at Brew for reasons that hadn’t cleared her own head, and whatever temper tantrum she pitted against her brothers wasn’t getting me any closer to the answers I needed.
Someone set me up. Exorcist took a shot. Failed. But it wouldn’t be the last time he tried to fill my teeth with lead. I needed to know who betrayed me. I needed to know why. And most importantly, I needed to know when Ex would fucking try again.
I needed Rose. Sweet and innocent and feeding me information my dick hadn’t given her an opportunity to find yet. If I wanted to figure out how Keep was fucking over Anathema, punishing my Sergeant At Arms and Secretary for beating the brat out of their little sister wouldn’t make my search any easier.
Rose’s stress fueled me with an adrenaline rush that fucked with my head. I needed to hit something. Break some bones. Bloody a nose and squeeze a trigger under a chin. If I wasn’t careful, I’d feed off her panic and aim for her brothers. While stomping Keep’s junkie head against the sidewalk until he confessed would be my own cloudless heaven, it wasn’t the right time.
I had to get Rose to safety, away from the neon-pink glow of Sorceress’s parking lot. Ex wouldn’t try to hit me again. Rose wasn’t that lucky.
“Hold on.” My voice startled her. Made her more of a squeezing liability. I didn’t need her panic, the scratches on my bike, or the guilt of killing the kid on the highway. I patted her leg. “You okay?”
“Fine.”
Was that the only fucking word she knew? Jesus Christ. I didn’t care how great her tits were or how many times she was nearly killed in the last hour. Exorcist fucked with me, and they used her to let him escape. Now the fucking diva wanted to test me?
Fine.
I’d show her fine.
We roared out of the parking lot, and I throttled the bike through the red line and into a quick, punishing turn immediately outside the club. Rose squealed, and her nails dug into my skin.
Those were the kitten scratches I wanted.
The roads emptied this late at night. All the better for a good ride. A fast ride. The type of speed that punished the highway under our tires and threatened the sleeping neighborhoods with the scream of our engines.
Rose tightened her grip. Either she instinctually knew to move with me, or she wasn’t ready to settle the score between her and the rushing pavement. She kept her mouth shut though. The silence grated my spine. Her little body bumped against mine over the road, and she clutched me tight enough to bruise. I hit the highway nearing triple digits, and the kid didn’t even make a sound.
What the fuck was wrong with her? Did she want to die? Between pissing off her brothers, getting her ass kidnapped, and tempting fate’s cock with her little strip tease, she was lucky the devil hadn’t popped her off yet.
Brew and Keep normally rolled at my side, but they kept closer than normal. As if they watched out for Rose. She didn’t care. She held on to me on my bike. Slept in my bed. Ran to me.
Belonged to me.
What a goddamned mistake she made.
I regretted our speed. It shortened our ride. Less time to enjoy her trembling body pressed against my back. Her fists digging into my cut. The squeeze of her panic
against my control of the bike. I owned the road. Punished the asphalt. Dominated the bike and any around me who dared to rebel against my authority on the highway. No cruiser ever caught me. No car outran me. And no scared little diva clinging to my strength would ever stop me.
We rumbled to Pixie without bloodshed. It wasn’t the relief I was looking for—not for the rage ripping through my veins, the pounding headache clipping my breath, or the pooling blood in my cock which wanted nothing more than to sheath between Rose’s pouting lips once again. I parked behind the safety of the security fence, but I let the bike rumble.
The diva didn’t jump off while it ran hot.
She wiggled against me, finding her balance between my body and the bike. She pushed off, tumbling to the ground. Her skirt flew up. Lyn dressed her authentically. The white panties covered her, but what lingered beneath tempted me beyond control. She kicked the gravel as she forced herself to her feet. Brew and Keep reached for her. She shoved them both away and chucked the helmet at me. I wasn’t ready for the string of profanity. She sounded just like Blade.
Usually, that type of disrespect ended with a smack across the smart mouth.
This time, I wanted nothing more than to smack a smart ass.
“What the hell were you doing?” Keep shouted after Rose, but she rushed her little plaid ass into the bar before anyone else got a good look. “You could have killed her.”
And his fucking betrayal wouldn’t end with her bleeding out on the street somewhere? I sneered, pushing him away with just the shadow of my rage.
“Don’t you ever question me.”
“That’s my sister,” Keep snarled.
“Might be time to start thinking of your brothers instead.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I glanced to Brew. He didn’t have the artificial courage swirling in his veins like Keep.
“Clean yourself up.” I pushed Keep out of my way. “And don’t worry about your sister tonight. I’ll make sure she’s tucked in.”
Neither Darnell liked that. I waited for the attack. For the knife at my throat or the gun at my head. What better time for the traitor to turn than when I threatened his baby sister with a hard cock and every ill-intention that came with it?
Warlord (Anathema Book 1) Page 16
