Savage Kind of Love

by Nicole Snow

  I ripped myself out of his grip. The nausea racking my body settled to the point where I could stand without help. Good thing too because I sure as hell didn't want his.

  “Fucking hell, sis. This place has gone to shit!” He sniffed again, then took a good look around. “Aren't you working?”

  I shrugged, embarrassment boiling my blood.

  “You know how it is...Mom doesn't get the right stuff, and all hell breaks loose. I lose my motivation. I've been looking, Jordan. Trust me.”

  “It's Brass now,” he growled. “Call me by my road name.”

  “Whatever you say, Brass,” I emphasized it just the right way to let him know I disapproved, without getting Dubs' attention.

  Whatever. He's still my big brother, and I haven't seen him in ages...

  My hostess instinct switched on. Having company around here was pretty rare. Almost non-existent.

  Without any prompting, I marched into the kitchen and started pulling out fixings for sandwiches. In the living room, the men flopped down on the couch, and I heard them speaking in hushed voices.

  “You think Irons is really gonna approve a hit?”

  “He'll do whatever it takes to make this Grizzlies territory again. This fucking town is ours, this whole fucking state, and we're gonna get it back. Those Dakota boys are bitches anyway. Got no business being here. Too bad old Ursa didn't see it coming...”

  My head was spinning. Hits? Dakota boys? Territory?

  I was going to eat one of my own pastrami sandwiches, but now just smelling it sickened me. Grabbing a couple beers and some chips, I carried the food out to them, and kept my distance near Mom's room while they inhaled it hungrily.

  “Well? Who the hell was it?” Mom's voice croaked from behind the door.

  Shit! I forgot Jordan's knock at the door woke her up. Just surprised she hadn't yelled about it sooner.

  Jordan clacked his plate down on our old coffee table and stood up. He stomped past me and threw the door open, gazing inside through the bluish darkness. The only light came from the TV.

  “It's me, Mom. I'm home.”

  Mom instantly teared up and then started to scowl. “You think you can just walk in here without asking to be let in, boy? Dammit, I can't walk without feeling hell in my bones, but this is still my house! I haven't forgotten what you said.”

  Oh, boy. Here we go. I swallowed hard.

  “You called your own goddamned mother a worthless cripple. Said you were tired of living this way, like I haven't done my damnedest to give you two the world when I was able.” She reached for her cane and pointed it toward him like an accusing finger. “You apologize, boy. Or I will have you ass thrown to the wolves.”

  I tried to get between them, but Jordan wasn't having it. His hand reached in his pocket and he stepped around me.

  For one horrific second, I feared he was going to threaten her with something worse than words. No, the old Jordan wouldn't have done it. But while he was wearing that patch, I was terrified he'd do anything, no matter how awful.

  “Here. How's this for an apology? You know I don't do words, Mom.” He tossed a big wad of something dark on her lap. “Send Shelly out to get you something nice.”

  Mom's skinny hands reached for the lump, and held it up. My eyes bugged out right along with hers when she saw all the cash.

  “Jesus, boy! What the hell's all this? There must be...” Her fingers flipped through it excitedly. “Two? Three thousand dollars here?”

  She looked up, her eyes narrowed. I knew she couldn't see his cut too well in the darkness. Mom wasn't a stupid woman. She could still put two and two together. She had to realize he'd been doing something he shouldn't to get so much money to throw around.

  You should talk, a voice said in the back of my mind. Is his shit really more grubby and humiliating than flashing your naked body for a living?

  Jordan, never exposed himself to complete strangers. He never felt white hot pleasure flash through his system doing it either.

  I was still ashamed there were nights when I actually enjoyed dancing.

  Mom dropped the cash on her chest. One shaking hand reached out, and she winced at the effort. It hurt to move anything when it got this bad.

  “You're still a little bastard. But you're my son. Welcome home, boy.”

  He gripped her fingers gently, and then turned back to me. His lips formed a thin smile.

  Bastard was gloating. Jordan was throwing his new lifestyle in my face, showing me how wrong I was about him and his new friends. It couldn't be all bad if he shared the loot, right?

  Hell no. That's a pile of fucking blood money right there.

  I knew the Grizzlies were fucked up, and nothing was going to change it. Even if he didn't understand yet.

  “Shelly! Take a few bills and go down to the pharmacy. Pick up some snacks. It's been a long trip, hasn't it, boy?”

  Jordan nodded, never relaxing the same shitty smile.

  “You got it, Mom.” I took the money she was holding out, and my stomach did another flip, angry and unsettled.

  It's blood money, all right. And now I'm touching it.

  A loud roar from Jordan's pocket disturbed the near silence. He ripped out a cheap phone playing a crappy heavy metal ring tone and pressed it to his ear.

  His eyes went wide when he heard whatever was on the other end. The phone snapped shut and he pushed past me.

  “Wait, Jordan, where are you going? You just got here!”

  “Gotta go, sis. Club business.” He was almost out the door when he stopped and turned. “Go to the pharmacy like Mom asked. Dubs will go with you. There's shit going down, and I need somebody to keep you safe...I'll explain more later.”

  “But –“

  The door flipped open, closed, and then he was gone. A minute later, I heard the roar of a motorcycle in the distance, a sound like the whole world fading away.

  I tensed and slowly turned to face a man I really didn't want to see, much less be alone with.

  “I'm all set, babe.” He crushed a beer can in one hand and let it fall to the table. “Those sandwiches were fucking great. Love a woman who can cook.”

  Jesus, he must've been on his third or fourth beer by now. They hadn't even been here for an hour.

  I nodded uneasily and threw on my shoes. It wasn't like I had much choice. Best to get this over with and hope for the best.

  Dubs followed several steps behind me. I really wished he wouldn't because I could feel his dirty eyes on my ass.

  In the parking lot, he caught up to me.

  “Keys,” he grunted.

  “Huh?”

  “Hand me your keys. I'll drive. It's not a bike, yeah, but I can handle a shitty old Toyota.”

  Oh, God. I listened to him swallow a hiccup. It was like I could hear the alcohol coursing through his system.

  Crap. What if he started in somewhere else before he ever touched our beer? How much has this idiot had?

  “Come on, babe, throw 'em over here!” He blocked my access to the driver's door. “You heard your bro. There's assholes out there who'll hurt you now that Brass is wearing the patch. Can't let them do that...especially not to a girl with such a sweet ass like you.”

  He moved his lips, almost pursing for a kiss. I flinched, disgusted, and threw him the keys.

  Big mistake. All my instincts went off, shrieking in disbelief.

  I should've listened to common sense. I shouldn't have climbed into the car with him, buckled my belt tight, and said a quick prayer we wouldn't wreck while swinging around the mountains or plow straight into a bear on the road.

  We took off. Dubs drove surprisingly steady for having so much in his system, but he was still a little reckless, plowing straight through downtown Missoula and missing the shortcut to the pharmacy.

  Maybe he was taking a different route. I hoped.

  He blew a red light, narrowly missed a semi, and then we were outside the city altogether. I was so damned focused on getting to the
drugstore and back home in one piece that I didn't notice where we were going.

  “Hey...this isn't Missoula. We need to turn around. You know how to get back?”

  “I got it, babe. Just because it says Washington on this fucking cut doesn't mean I don't know my way around these parts.”

  I swallowed the lump building in my throat. Ten minutes later, it was a hell of a lot darker, and now the city was just a distant glow at our backs.

  He turned off the highway and rolled down a narrow road near the mountain, then toward an unpaved country path. Jesus, it looked like someone's driveway.

  “Dubs...this can't be right,” I said, tensing up and trying to keep breathing.

  Panic was getting to me now. I wanted out of this car, out of this darkness, anywhere away from this weird asshole.

  “No, it's right. I said I know my fucking way around, and don't you doubt it, bitch.” His eyes beamed hellfire straight at me.

  My heart began to race as we pulled up to a building. I saw it wasn't a house at all. More like an old cabin, falling apart and long abandoned by the looks of it.

  He stomped the brakes and threw it into park. Then the engine cut and it was just silence, not a peep in the night except for the heavy breathing in my crappy little car.

  I wasn't even sure if it was his breath or mine. I never got the chance to find out.

  His hand fell on my thigh and pinched it so hard I screamed. I tried to bat his ugly arm away, but it just caused him to move quicker, cupping his dirty fingers between my legs.

  Another awkward pinch there and I lost it.

  “Get the fuck off me!” I squealed, jabbing both hands at his chest. “I don't want this...Jordan won't let this happen...”

  Who are you kidding? Your stupid brother's the one who sent you out with this rapist in the first place!

  “Come on, babe. Don't bullshit me. I saw the way you've been looking at me the second I walked through the fucking door. You like your men big and strong and rough, don't you? Probably the same way you like to fuck.”

  I twisted just in time to see his nasty wet tongue wagging out his parted lips, coming toward mine. I punched the lock as hard I could, and rolled, snapping off my seatbelt. I hit the dusty ground with an oomph!

  Took off straight toward the woods, listening to him curse up a storm behind me.

  I paused before going too deep, hoping I'd lost him. Shit. I wasn't used to running like this, and my legs and lungs were already crapping out.

  Pushing myself into rugged forest was almost as bad as the beast behind me. There were bears out there in the darkness, not to mention the occasional mountain lion.

  Still, I had to do something to get away from this crazy asshole, I had to –

  “Fuck you for playing hard to get!” Dubs pawed at my breasts, wrapped the other hand around my stomach, and tackled me to the ground.

  “You dumb cunt, don't you know anything about this fucking patch? Grizzlies share everything.” His face was next to my ear; hot, menacing growls pouring into my ear. “Brass is family, and so am I the minute he became my bro. I haven't got laid since the run to Portland last month, and I'm pretty fucking pissed. Be a good little whore and give me what I need. Help me, bitch. Just the same as you'd help Brass...”

  He pushed one hand to the back of my head and shoved me into the dirt face-first. His huge body covered mine, growling the entire time. I choked and sobbed, screaming through the earth when he started grinding against my ass.

  Deep, guttural pleasure pulsed in his throat. He reached around, fondling my breasts, yanking on my nipple. I was sure there'd be a bruise tomorrow – if I was still alive.

  “Oh, fuck. Nice little ass! Do I want your pussy or your asshole first? Bet they're both tight fucking suckholes, ready to be filled and fucked by a real man...”

  My mind went blank. Numb. Exactly what I heard happened to other girls during this kind of nightmare. Just never thought I'd be in the terror zone to find out.

  Dubs jerked me up savagely by my belt. My jeans ripped down my legs, and then I heard him working on his own belt buckle, ready to free something vile.

  No! I can't let this happen. I won't have you in my body.

  “Fucking tight ass jeans,” he muttered, fumbling with his clothes.

  Maybe it really was his pants, or else the alcohol he'd downed earlier making him clumsy. Whatever, it gave me a few extra seconds.

  I groped around in the dirt, wriggling away from him, feeling all around me for something – anything! – to get him the hell off.

  Shit, shit. All the little branches scattered on the ground were too fucking small. They wouldn't do a damned thing unless I jabbed it in his eye. My hand grazed a stone, and then a bigger one as I wrestled with him.

  His hot, disgusting length pressed up against one ass cheek. I clawed my way forward, listening to him curse behind me as I got out of his grip.

  “You little shit! Hold still! Now I'm definitely goin' for your fucking ass. Gonna make sure you don't shit right for a week for being such a bratty little slut...“

  Easy. You've got one chance, I told myself, swallowing my fear to sharpen my focus.

  I twisted, plucked the big rock out of the dirt with both hands, and threw myself forward. The asshole had his pants down, crawling toward me.

  Luck finally gave me a wink and a smile.

  Howling, I jerked up, smashing the big boulder on his head. I screamed so loud I drowned out the sick thud. Dubs cursed one more time and then fell flat.

  He was down, and I didn't stop. It kept going, driving the stone into his head, beating the gory mess again and again. There was nothing here now but adrenaline and night. It thrummed in my veins, moving my fists to make sure he never, ever got up to hurt me again.

  I only stopped when I felt the thick wet trickle against my knees. Dark blood, so much even the hungry soil couldn't contain it.

  “Oh...oh, God...”

  I dropped the stone. Clawing at the dirt, scuffling away from the body on the ground, I stared in disbelief at what I'd done.

  I'd just killed a man.

  Bloody fingers covered my mouth. The pain beating in my head was worse than when the punch to the face.

  I covered my face with my hands and roared bloody murder, releasing my confusion, my horror, my guilt. I screamed and screamed and fucking screamed until my throat stopped working.

  Then I went limp on the ground. This was it.

  There was nothing left to do but pull up my pants, get in the car, and drive far, far away from this place. That's exactly what I would've done if I didn't feel the lump in my pocket.

  My cell phone was there. I stood, flipped it open, and stepped gingerly over Dubs' body, still and messy as before.

  No. Maybe there's another way...

  My thumb tapped the menu to bring up contacts. I quickly scanned it, praying I hadn't wiped his number.

  Found it. My finger hovered over the dial button, wondering if the number still worked, or if I'd just hear a robo-message telling me it had been disconnected on the other end.

  I had to try. I was in over my head. I didn't know the first thing about murder, and much less how to cover up a dead body and get on with my life.

  I needed to call someone who did.

  Shaking, I held the speaker it up to my ear, and then sobbed when it began to ring.

  If anybody could help me, it was him. So I hoped.

  Blaze nursed a bad eye and protected me before...could he fix this too?

  I wasn't sure. All I knew was that the first night had ended in blood, and my life would never, ever be sane again.

  II: His Business (Blaze)

  “Blaze? Wake up, hon.”

  Somebody was shaking my arm something fierce, purring in my ear. I opened my eyes and instantly felt the hum of way too much fucking Jack.

  “Shit.”

  I jerked up. Marianne's skinny curves were attached to my elbow. When she saw I was up, she gave me a good squeeze, and
moaned yet again.

  “Hear that?”

  Early mornings, I could do. But I'd never do the fucking things with a grin on my face and a song on my lips. My face tightened as I looked at her, shooting the whore a look that warned her this better be important.

  Took a few seconds for my ears to tune in. Then I heard it, distinct and clear. Flesh slapping on leather, like somebody was hitting a bull.

  “Better not be who I think it is. I already warned that asshole about his little workouts so early in the morning – right next to my damned room! Fuck me.”

  “Already did the fucking part, hon,” she cooed. “Be a doll and stop the racket? My head's pounding after last night.”

  Yeah, whore. Me and you both.

  I ripped off the blanket and threw my feet on the cold floor, scrambling for my boots and jeans. I threw them on, then went a little further for my shirt. It was right underneath my door.

  I rolled it on and grabbed my cut off the hanger above. For a second, my eyes caught the mirror, and I saw my old leather stitched up with all the shiny new PRAIRIE DEVILS MC, MONTANA patches.

  Turning my hips, I made sure all my shit was straight. Probably gave Marianne another view that made her drool – the woman loved a man in uniform – but I wasn't thinking about that just now.

  As soon as club whores were out of sight, they were out of mind.

  Just before I went for the doorknob, I caught the little rectangle sewn on my breast. The neat black letters read PRESIDENT.

  I sucked in a breath, sparing a second to study it. Reminded me what I'd taken on, what I was doing out here in the goddamned mountains, what I'd devoted to my club when I was voted in head of the new Missoula branch.

  “Blaze?” Marianne whispered again.

  “Be right back. Go to sleep.”

  I didn't owe her shit. She was the club's plaything, a whore for me and every other brother to sink his dick into when we weren't busy drinking at the posh new bar in our fancy clubhouse.

  But I didn't mind helping her get some beauty sleep – especially after the way she rode me last night, throwing her perky tits in my face.