HIS PROPERTY: A Dark Bad Boy Baby Romance (Iron Bandits MC)

by Zoey Parker

  For the first time, she seriously considered the possibility that she might die, and she thought about what that might feel like. The concept made her feel like she'd been dunked in a tub of ice water.

  “Hang on,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm and steady. “There's no need for you guys to, uh, rush into anything where I'm concerned. I mean, maybe I could even help, y'know? Like, if you let me go, I could give the cops the wrong descriptions on purpose. I could give them fake names, too, and tell them I heard you guys mention you were headed for, I don't know, California or Canada or something. I could throw them off, give you guys a chance to get a head start...”

  The redhead snorted derisively. “Right, sure. Pull the other one an' I'll whistle Dixie out my asshole.”

  “You really don't have to kill me,” Billie insisted. “I promise. We can figure out something else.”

  “Look,” Clyde said, “maybe killing her isn't the way to go. Do we really want to be facing murder charges if the cops catch up to us? That could be the difference between a ten-year stretch and life or the gas chamber.”

  “You just sayin' that 'cause you're a pussy,” the redhead said.

  “I'm a thief,” Clyde said. “And I'm a damn good one. But what I'm not is some bloodthirsty psycho who'll kill an innocent girl just because she's an inconvenience. I don't need that shit on my conscience. If that makes me a pussy, so be it.”

  This gave Billie a bit of hope. Despite all of Clyde's tough talk and threats earlier, it seemed like she'd been right about him. If he was willing to face down the others when it came to the prospect of killing her, maybe she might have a chance at getting out of this alive after all.

  “Well, I've killed plenty of people for plenty of fuckin' reasons,” the redhead retorted, “so if you can't handle that action, you can leave it to me. But don't try to convince me that leavin' her alive is somehow the smart play here, 'cause it clearly ain't. She's a liability, an' she's got to go. Period.”

  “I ain't in a hurry to be an accessory to murder either, man,” the blonde chimed in, “but he's right. If we ain't gonna take her with us, then just lettin' her go so she can blab to the cops about us would be goofy. It don't seem like we got much of a choice here.”

  “Of course we've got a choice,” Clyde said. “We can keep her around as a hostage, instead of committing a capital crime and fucking ourselves completely. If the cops do get too close, we can just hide behind her and threaten to blow her head off unless they back off. It's not like they're going to blast holes in a civilian just to put us down.”

  “They definitely won't,” Billie agreed quickly. “That sheriff you saw wouldn't let them. He's had a crush on me since we were kids, he'd never...”

  The redhead's arm moved so fast it was a blur, and before Billie had time to move or react, his meaty palm smacked her across the face hard. She reeled backward and almost fell on the bed, her cheek stinging.

  “You ain't part of this discussion,” the redhead spat, “so shut it. An' don't start havin' no thoughts 'bout screamin' for help or nothin' like that, or the last thing you're ever gonna see is that pillow while I smother you to death with it. Nod if you fuckin' understand.”

  Billie nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. She hated crying, and she usually never did it in front of anyone, but this time she couldn't help herself as she thought about whether these might be her last few moments on earth.

  “There's no need for that shit,” Clyde said. “Knock it off.”

  “Now you're gonna act protective of her?” the redhead balked. “Seriously? You seem to have gotten pretty goddamn attached over the past couple of hours. Which is a damn shame, 'cause from where I'm standin', it looks like we got a two-to-one vote to mop the bitch an' be done with it.”

  “Did this suddenly become some kind of fucking democracy?” Clyde retorted. “Because last I checked, I'm still the leader of this outfit, and I say we leave her alive.”

  “What 'outfit,' dickhead?” the redhead asked. “Our plans for starting our own MC are down the toilet. If we're smart, we'll forget about that an' head down to Mexico to disappear with the cash. We can chill out on a beach somewhere surrounded by cheap hooch an' hot mamacitas, an' wait for everythin' to blow over.”

  “Fine, if Mexico's the plan, then Mexico's the plan,” Clyde said. “That works for me. You're right, staying in this country with the law after us would be silly. But it still doesn't mean I'm going to let you snuff her.”

  The redhead sighed, putting his hands on his hips. “Look, I get it, okay? She's obviously cute, an' we all saw how badly you wanted to fuck her last night. You don't wanna waste a hot piece of ass. So how 'bout you just tie her down, gag her, an' take a few turns with her if it's so important to you, huh? Shit, maybe I'll even go for a ride myself. Then we can do what we gotta do an' put this whole thing behind us.”

  “You're a sick asshole,” Clyde commented.

  The redhead's eyes filled with black murder and his entire body tensed as he slowly walked over to Clyde, getting right in his face.

  “Fuck her or don't,” he said, “but I'm gonna snuff her either way, an' I promise a punk like you ain't gonna be in no position to stop me.”

  “You don't want to tangle with me,” Clyde said evenly. “Think it through.”

  “Oh, I don't, huh?” The redhead shoved Clyde hard.

  Before Clyde could respond, the blonde positioned himself between the two men. “Guys, stop it! If we turn on each other like this, the whole thing'll fall apart an' the cops'll get us for sure.” He turned to the redhead. “If he's so set on keeping her as a hostage for a while longer, maybe you an' I can split off on our own for a while. That way she won't be slowin' us down, an' the pigs will have more than one target to focus on.”

  The redhead glared at Clyde. “Yeah, maybe that's the way to go. I could use a break from this cocksucker for a while anyway. We can meet up in two days at that truck stop we talked about before. You know the one, right?”

  Clyde nodded. “Fine. Let's do that. It'll give us a chance to cool off, and then we can figure out a plan for getting across the border.”

  “Just remember one thing, though,” the redhead added. “By the time we all meet up down there, she'd better be gone. Kill her or find some other way to get rid of her, but she ain't comin' across the border with us. If you show up an' she's still with you, I'll murder the fuckin' both of you.”

  “I'm not scared of you,” Clyde said.

  The redhead stared him down with eyes like a shark's. “You fuckin' well should be, asswipe.” He turned to the blonde. “Come on, let's blow. We need to find a new ride.”

  The blonde and the redhead grabbed their bags and left the room, slamming the door behind them. Billie rubbed her aching cheek. It seemed like she was safe.

  For the moment, anyway.

  Chapter 13

  Carter

  After Hazmat and Oiler left the room, Carter realized that his hands were aching. He looked down and saw that he'd clenched them into fists at some point during their argument. He took a deep breath and opened them again, flexing them a few times.

  “Thank you for standing up for me,” Billie said. Carter noticed that the tone of her voice had changed. The sassy, teasing bravado was gone, replaced with what sounded like real anxiety.

  Good, he thought. Now that she knows how serious this situation is, maybe she'll stop screwing around and behave like a proper hostage. I hope so, anyway, since it looks like I'm stuck with her for the foreseeable future thanks to my big fucking mouth.

  “Yeah, well, it's not because I like you or anything,” Carter said, “so don't get any ideas about that. Like I said, I'm a robber, not a murderer, that's all.”

  But then again, he'd never been a kidnapper either, and now he was dragging her along without a solid plan to get rid of her. Bizarrely, he felt like someone who'd been forced into taking an unwanted pet. Now he'd have to worry about feeding her and letting her go to the bathroom, all while
making sure she didn't run away. What a pain in the ass.

  He thought about Hazmat, who'd always acted as a brutal and pitiless enforcer when they were members of the Hobgoblins. Carter hadn't exactly been squeamish about violence when it was needed, but Hazmat seemed to revel in it like some kind of ancient gladiator, smashing and stomping and screaming victoriously as he bathed in the blood of his enemies. Carter was known for being clever and good with plans and strategies, but when it came to carrying those plans out, Hazmat was an unholy force of nature.

  Hadn't that been the reason Carter had chosen Hazmat as his VP? Because Hazmat wasn't afraid of getting his hands dirty and doing what needed to be done? So why had Carter stood in his way now, when it could have saved them so much hassle?

  Well, his reasons for making Hazmat the VP of the Metal Monsters seemed irrelevant now, since their big ideas for founding an MC of their own had gone up in smoke.

  So much for my “plans and strategies,” Carter thought, feeling like the world's biggest asshole.

  “So, um, what happens now?” Billie asked, interrupting Carter's morbid thoughts.

  “For starters, we'll need to put some distance between us and The Whippoorwill,” Carter answered. “It's still too close to Cactus Hollow, and the cops will be searching every motel in the vicinity. And we shouldn't steal another car from this parking lot, or it'll let them know we've been here.”

  As he said this, Carter wondered whether Hazmat and Oiler would be smart enough to realize this as well, or if they'd already hotwired a ride and left. He briefly considered looking for them in the parking lot just in case, then decided it was best to stay out of sight as much as possible.

  “The problem,” he continued, “is that I have no idea where we could possibly hole up in this godforsaken part of Texas, or how we'd get there if we did. So I'll have to give it some serious thought, and while I do, it'd probably be best if you didn't distract me by talking.”

  “I might be able to help with that,” Billie said tentatively.

  Carter raised an eyebrow. “Do tell.”

  “I've got a cousin named Samantha who lives over in Caddo Corners—” she began.

  “We're not going to go see your cousin,” Carter said immediately. “You've probably been on the news by now as a kidnap victim. She'd call the cops on me the second our backs were turned. Nice try, though.”

  Billie rolled her eyes. “Of course we're not going to see Samantha,” she said. “I'm not an idiot, and I'm not plotting against you, no matter what you think. But there aren't any motels in Caddo Corners and it's far from the main highways, so the cops will probably overlook it. Hell, everyone else does.”

  “That still doesn't solve the problem of where we're going to spend the night,” Carter pointed out.

  “That's the best part,” Billie said. “When I used to visit Sam when we were kids, we'd play around in the woods at the edge of town, near the border of the Taysha Indian reservation. There was an old abandoned shack in those woods. No one would ever think to look for us there.”

  “Assuming the shack hasn't been torn down by now, or fallen down, or been ripped apart by a tornado,” Carter said, ticking the points off on his fingers, “or been converted to a summer cabin by yuppies...”

  “Okay, those are all possibilities,” Billie conceded. “But unless you've got a better plan...”

  Carter sighed. He didn't.

  “Fair enough,” he said. “We'll try to reach this shack, and hope it's still there. If not, I guess we'll be sleeping in the woods, so I hope there aren't any coyotes around there.”

  “There are, actually,” Billie said, “but since coyotes don't usually carry guns and you've got two of them, I think we'll be okay.”

  Carter grimaced. He didn't scare easily, but coyotes had always given him a sense of dread, ever since he'd seen one tear a rabbit to shreds when he was four years old. He'd never admitted his fear of them to anyone, but he certainly wasn't in a hurry to see one anytime soon, either.

  “So how far is Caddo Corners from here?” he asked. “Walking distance?”

  Billie winced. “Well, that's the bad news. There's a pretty wide stretch of desert between here and there. We wouldn't be able to make it on foot.”

  “Shit,” Carter spat. “I already told you, we can't steal a car from here without giving ourselves away. And we can’t go back to the sedan because it’s probably been reported as stolen by now. How the fuck are we supposed to get there without a ride?”

  She smiled. “Actually, I think I've got an idea about that, too.”

  Chapter 14

  Carter

  “You've got to be fucking kidding me,” Carter said.

  After a fifteen minute walk, they were standing outside a paddock surrounded by a wooden split-rail fence. A cluster of horses stood inside it, neighing and stamping their hooves.

  “Hey, you wanted a ride,” Billie said, “so here's your ride.”

  “I'm a biker, for Christ's sake,” Carter grumbled. “If I'm going to ride something, it had better have a fucking engine in it.”

  “Well, unless you're about to bend over and yank a motorcycle out of your ass, this is as good as it gets,” Billie retorted.

  Carter noticed that she was starting to relax and crack wise again, and he was surprised to find that he didn't mind it. Part of him actually preferred her when she was joking and having fun, even if she irritated him. It gave her a kind of radiant, self-assured glow he'd rarely seen in women before.

  That—plus the curves of her tits and the amazing way her ass swayed back and forth when she swaggered—reminded him of why he'd been so attracted to her in the bar the previous night.

  But then, that already seemed like it was weeks ago, given everything that had happened since.

  “What's the matter, anyway?” she asked. “Haven't you ever been on a horse before?”

  “Sure I have,” Carter answered.

  Billie put her hands on her hips and smiled at him. “Okay, let me try this again. Did you ever actually ride a horse, or did you sit on one at a farm when you were a kid and have them lead you around?”

  Carter cleared his throat uncomfortably. That was exactly the context in which he'd been on a horse before, and it was also the same day he'd had his ugly encounter with the coyote, so he didn't think about it too often if he could help it.

  Billie laughed. “All right, that's not a problem. I'll show you. You won't need to know much. We're just riding a few miles, not jumping fences or doing tricks or anything. Come on.”

  She opened the gates of the fence and entered the paddock. Carter followed.

  “How did you know about this place?” he asked.

  “Almost everyone in Texas knows about Erasmus Tiller's horse farm,” she said. “He's been raising them and showing them at state fairs and 4-H events for over fifty years now. Shit, he's gotta be ninety years old if he's a day. That's how I know he won't see us—I went on a couple dates with his grandson a few years ago, and he once told me that the old buzzard spends half the day napping. So as long as we don't do anything too loud or stupid, we should be fine.”

  “They used to hang people for this, you know,” Carter said.

  “Huh?” She was already walking among the horses, trying to decide on one.

  “Horse thievery,” Carter clarified. “Back in the days of the Old West, stealing a horse was a sure way to end up dangling from a rope.”

  “I've seen that in the movies,” Billie said, “but didn't they also usually hang bank robbers and kidnappers too?”

  Carter shook his head. “It was different. They took horse-thieving especially seriously since without their horses, people couldn't get around or do their farming, or even go get the doctor if their wives or kids got sick. Having their horses taken could ruin their lives, so horse thieves were considered the scum of the fucking earth.”

  “Well, Old Man Tiller has about three dozen other horses, and the property he owns around here is worth tens of m
illions of dollars,” Billie replied, “so I think he'll survive. He's not going to do a head count of his stock for a few more hours, either, so we should be long gone by then.”

  Carter snickered. “And even when he does report them stolen, it's not like the cops will automatically assume it was us. Most fugitives wouldn't use livestock to make their escape. They'll probably think it was just some kids or something.”

  “Precisely,” Billie agreed. She sounded very proud of herself. “Here, this looks like a good one for you. He's older and he seems pretty calm.” She pointed to a sway-backed palomino.