Ruthless (Nomad Outlaws Trilogy Book 1)

by Tory Richards

  "Come on, brother, I'm horny!" one of the Kings grated from his place in line.

  "Yeah, hurry shit along!" another demanded, playing with himself.

  "Fuck her already!" This came from a Red Devil. "I wanna show my boy how to fuck a woman good!"

  "Get her naked!" someone else shouted.

  I was going to fucking kill every one of them. Rocky's hands went to what was left of Ginger's t-shirt, his fingers curling around a strip of material at the top and pulling down, but she was prepared for him and brought her arms up, crossing them over her breasts to prevent him from ripping it off her.

  That was when the front door burst open.

  All hell broke loose.

  Chapter 31

  Ginger

  I looked in the direction that the commotion was coming from to see several familiar faces piling into the house, guns drawn and shooting at anyone who moved, and everyone moved when the realization sank in that they were under attack. My gaze swung to Rebel. The sudden chaos caused the two men who were holding him to slacken their grip, and he used it to his advantage by jerking free. With a roar he charged toward us, knocking Rocky off of me and bringing him to the floor on the other side of the counter. I instantly rolled off the counter and moved out of the way, finding a corner to take cover in. Scooting down out of the way seemed like a good idea, considering the gunfire that was ricocheting all around us.

  Rebel didn't give Rocky a chance to fight back, pounding his fists into him like rapid machine gun fire. It was clear by his savage expression that Rebel didn't intend to leave the other man alive. He was merciless in his attack, throwing punch after punch at Rocky's face and torso, not giving the man a chance to catch his breath in between hits. I was frozen, watching in shock. The man I loved had become a brutal monster, pummeling Rocky in a savage attack.

  Gunfire continued to sound throughout the house. It became obvious that some of the fight had moved further back into different rooms. It didn't take long for the air to turn blue with smoke and fill with the acrid smell of sulfur, stinging my eyes. The shouts, screams, and threats being thrown back and forth between the two warring groups gradually lessoned, as did the gunfire. The unexpected sound of bikes revving up and taking off barely registered.

  I remained where I was, too afraid to move, barely able to breathe. As the gunfire came to an end I was drawn back to the sight of Rebel and Rocky. Rocky had ceased to move or make any sounds. His face was a bloody mess, but still Rebel pounded him. Tears filled my eyes--not for Rocky's death, because it was clear that he was gone--but for Rebel. His expression was dark, savage, the look in his eyes wild and crazed. In a way he was gone, too, and all I knew was that I couldn't stand to let him continue beating a dead man. I crawled over to him, shaking wildly.

  "Rebel--" I was afraid to touch him, afraid that he wouldn't know who I was and would turn his blind rage on me. He was in killer mode and clearly out of control. "Rebel." I glanced at his knuckles, wondering how much of the blood was from damage to his skin and how much was from Rocky's smashed face. With tears streaming down my face, I decided to try a different approach. "Michael, look at me. Please."

  It was either my voice or the sound of his name that seemed to get through to him. His hits slowed down. He was breathing hard, I could see his chest moving fast to keep up. His focus was still on Rocky, but I could tell that he was trying to come back. I took a chance and reached out, placing my hand on his arm, feeling the bunched muscles there twitch. "Michael." He slowly turned his head toward me, his eyes dead in a face that was taut with emotion.

  His gaze moved slowly over my face and then down my body. I could see the second his vision cleared and he was with me in the moment. I smiled shakily through my tears. He reached for me as he moved off of Rocky, pulling us both up against a cabinet. Suddenly I was on his lap and his arms were crushing me to him.

  "Thank Christ, baby," he rasped above my head. "You're okay." He exhaled a loud sigh. A tremor racked his whole body. His heart was pounding rapidly beneath my ear. "That was too fucking close."

  I knew how true his words were. As I basked in the warmth and safety of his embrace, I noticed that the shooting had completely stopped, the sounds of bullets replaced by the sounds of orders being shouted out by the remaining men. I thought it was odd that I couldn't hear any groaning or cries from the wounded, but I didn't question it. I was just thankful that it was over. I relaxed against Rebel. "Thank God you came when you did."

  "You should have never been here. That's on me."

  That was all he had time to say before Vinny came into the room. "You okay, honey?" He was talking to me, but I noticed that he refused to look at me.

  I was thankful for his consideration, feeling exposed in my tattered clothing. "I'm good." My voice trembled. "Thank you for coming."

  "You don't ever have to thank us, sweetheart," Tanner said as he walked into the room. Unlike Vinny, he didn't have any trouble looking down at us, but the look in his eyes remained respectful. "Here, one of the guys handed this over for you."

  Rebel took the offered shirt and draped it over me. "Thanks, brother."

  "Thank you."

  Tanner gave me a wink before turning his attention back to Rebel. It was obvious that he wanted to say something to him, but seemed hesitant doing so with me there. Rebel made the decision for him. "It's okay. You can talk."

  "A couple got away, one of them was wounded, shouldn't take Rod and Heath long to catch up to them."

  "Any of ours hurt?" Rebel asked.

  "Sully took a bullet to the leg, but it's not bad enough for the hospital. Ace got nicked, so did one of Vinny's guys. Nothing serious."

  Thank God, I thought.

  "What are you doing with the bodies?"

  I winced and closed my eyes, trying not to envision how many there might be. They deserved to die for what they'd done, for what they'd intended to do to Rebel and me, but it didn't make it any easier to accept.

  I heard Tanner snort, as if he’d found Rebel’s question funny. "There's an alligator infested lake behind the house." I felt Rebel nod his head in approval. "You need help getting out of here?"

  "I want Ginger taken out of here in the truck‒"

  "No!" I looked up at him. "I want to stay with you. I'm okay to ride on your bike." After everything that had happened, I couldn't bear the thought of being apart from him any time soon. I shivered and buried my face against him.

  "Baby, look at me." I didn't want to, because I knew that he was going to try and persuade me to leave him. "Trust me when I say that you don't want to be with me if the police stop us. I'm covered in blood that's not all mine, and you're half naked."

  I didn't care. I didn't want to be separated from him. "I need to stay with you." I didn't care if it sounded like I was begging. "Michael, please . . ." I knew that I was hitting below the belt by using his name.

  "Christ, baby." He buried his fingers in my hair and pulled my head back. "When you say my name like that--" He shook his head. "I can't deny you."

  "I agree with Rebel," Vinny spoke up. "You should go home in the truck."

  This time he was looking at me. I gave him a weak smile. "Thank you for caring, Vinny. You're nothing but a big, soft teddy bear."

  "Yeah, well, don't let that get out," he grumbled, looking a little embarrassed.

  "I'm staying with Rebel," I said firmly, hoping that that was the end of it.

  Tanner and Vinny stood staring down at us with neutral expressions as the rest of the men moved about busily. There was a lot of activity going on, a lot of movement, yet the big, boot-wearing men moved about in a surprisingly quiet way. They worked efficiently together toward one common goal, like quiet little ants, seeing that the job got done--the job of removing and disposing of the bodies.

  I tried not to think about it, but I knew that this would be a day that I was going to remember for a long time to come. I shuddered at how close I'd come to being gang raped, at how close I'd come to losing Rebe
l forever. I curled my fingers into his cut, gripping it tightly, willing him to understand my need to be with him right then.

  "You heard my woman," Rebel said after a minute. "She stays with me."

  "Her decision, brother. Let me check on the guys’ progress." Tanner turned and walked off.

  "Della‒"

  "She's okay, honey," Vinny said standing above me. "Stevie and Skipper are still with her. Stevie was the one who alerted everyone."

  "I saw her watching when they threw me into the van. She'd been waiting for me in the cafeteria. There was nothing she could do to stop it."

  "Yeah, she feels bad about that."

  "There's nothing for her to feel bad about. It wasn't her fault. I'm just glad that she and Della weren't targets, too."

  "Skipper would have given his life to protect them," Rebel told me. "I should have been there to protect you." His bitter words drew my attention to his chiseled jaw and the tic in it.

  Was he blaming himself? "You can't be with me all the time." I watched as someone came over to remove Rocky's body. He was simply picked up by the ankles and dragged away. I shuddered at the trail of blood left behind.

  "Let me help finish up," Vinny said after a moment. "I'm glad this shit is over." He turned and disappeared around a corner.

  "Is it over?"

  "Yeah, angel. Daryl's dead, too." I wanted to ask him how, but decided that that was a conversation that could wait. "This shit that happened today was about me, not you. Rocky found out that I was the one who caused the end of his club four years ago. We knew back then that not all of the Red Devils were dead, but we got Wildman and the majority of his men." He pulled in a breath and released a sigh of aggravation. "I never saw this shit coming, especially after all this time."

  "They wanted revenge?" It seemed obvious.

  His nod confirmed it. "Yeah, and Rocky wanted you. I'd kept him from you back then."

  "They were going to kill us, weren't they?" It wasn't a question. I stated it as a cold, hard fact, and I didn't expect Rebel to respond to it. "Do you think there's any more of them out there?"

  He released a heavy breath. "I fucking hope not." He kissed me on the forehead. "Come on, we can't sit here all night." He nudged me to my feet. "Are you sure you're okay to ride on the back of my bike?"

  "Yes." I slipped the shirt on that Tanner had handed me earlier, pulling out the length of my hair. Rebel raised his hand, cupping the side of my face with a tenderness that was unlike him. He stared silently into my eyes, and I could sense the disquiet simmering beneath the surface of his hard veneer. There was no denying the raw emotions gripping him in that moment. "We're okay," I murmured softly, comfortingly.

  "No." That small, single word caught me by surprise, and revealed so much about where Rebel’s head was. "You should never have to worry about being snatched off the street. You should never have to worry about being raped by a gang of outlaws." He stiffened, clenching his jaw to stop himself from saying more.

  His gaze moved to some point over my head, unblinkingly staring at something only he could see. I could still hear the men moving about, but the activity seemed to be slowing down. I cupped his cheek to bring his attention back to me. It was slow in coming.

  He'd resisted. I could see it in his eyes--the concern, the grim determination, and the regret. I began to worry about the thoughts that I knew were going through his mind. I stared deeply into his eyes, willing him to see that I loved him, because I wasn't brave enough to say the words.

  I did love him.

  "Don’t even think about getting rid of me," I said firmly.

  He snorted. "You're a mind reader now?"

  "It's what you were thinking, wasn’t it?"

  "Yes."

  Fuck. I hadn't expected him to admit it so easily. It frightened me. What about all of his earlier talk about finding a house for us to live in together? Panic rose inside of me, but I was determined not to give in to it. We'd been through a lot together, and I was going to fight for us. In spite of that, my eyes burned with the sting of tears. Too much had happened that day, I was suddenly overwhelmed. I couldn't take any more.

  "Can you please break up with me on another day?" I asked outrageously, unable to see him clearly because of the big, fat tears that were clouding my eyes. Deep down I had an idea about why he was feeling that way--he blamed himself for what had happened to me. "Can we please go home now?" I was done.

  For a moment we stood in silence. It seemed that Rebel wanted to say something more but was holding himself back. Finally he took my hand and led me out of the house. I tried not to notice what the men were doing, but the glimmering surface of the lake beneath the moon drew my attention to it. It was as if a light bulb were shining down on the water. I turned my head away and focused on where to put my bare feet, crying out when I stepped on something sharp.

  "Fuck, baby." Rebel pivoted around instantly and swung me up into his strong arms. "I fucking forgot that you were barefoot." He sounded contrite.

  He certainly didn't sound like a man who was about to break a woman's heart.

  That small hope stayed with me on the ride home.

  Chapter 32

  Rebel

  Two weeks later I was still no closer to deciding what I should do about Ginger. I knew that if I chose to be with her there would be consequences--for her. I knew what I wanted, without doubt, but she would be safer away from me. She'd come too fucking close to being raped and killed because of the life I led, and that wasn't going to change. I was, and always would be, a nomad, a killer for hire, along with anything else the job called for. It was a profession that made me a ton of money, but also enemies along the way, fuckers who wouldn't hesitate to hurt someone close to me.

  I wasn't proud of what I'd done after I’d taken her home that day. I'd practically dumped her off at her apartment, telling her that I would be back, when I had known that I wouldn’t be. A real bastard I was. I had flat out lied to her when I’d told her that I was on a job, and had only answered a few of her texts. Thank fuck a job had come up and turned my lie into truth, but it didn't make me feel any better, knowing that I'd only remained with her after a traumatic incident long enough to clean up. How fucked up was that?

  Recalling the liquid hurt in her eyes had gutted me.

  Christ, I was going to hell. If I'd had any balls I would have at least explained why I was leaving, but I'd been fucking scared. For her. For me. This whole situation between Ginger and me was a new experience. I'd never wanted to care enough for someone to be put into the position of having to decide whether or not I should give them up. I didn't want to give her up. That was the problem. I was torn.

  I loved her.

  Enough to let her go? I couldn't decide. That was the fucking problem.

  Fuck no I couldn't let her go.

  I was fucking screwed, because I knew I was just selfish enough to think that I could have something good in my fucked up life, a woman that I didn't deserve, but was going to take anyway. I wanted a life with Ginger. I wanted to put my baby in her belly, more than once, until I had that family I'd only ever dreamed about. Other men in my position made it work, why couldn't I?

  But, God, if I ever lost her . . .

  I tossed back my fourth whiskey and slammed the glass down on the table. Even now I had eyes on her, just to make sure that she remained safe. Jace. I snorted, remembering the look on his face when I'd told him about the job I had for him a day after getting back into town. It was easy money for a man like him, considering that Ginger had barely left Della's apartment since her release from the hospital. All he had to do was keep my woman safe, but he wasn't being obvious about it. I didn't want Ginger to be freaked out because someone was watching her.

  With Daryl dead, along with most of the Kings and the three remaining Red Devils, it had grown quiet. Thank fuck.

  "Another refill, baby?"

  I looked up at the chick who'd been hitting on me since I’d walked through the door. I was sitt
ing in After Hours, Tanner's bar, getting wasted. The girls that he employed were eye candy, overly friendly, and not afraid to get down and dirty. I'd already seen one give a lap dance that would have set a normal man's pants on fire. The two had finally disappeared out the back door.

  "Well, honey?" She ran her hand along the back of my neck, brushing her fingers against my hair. There was nothing coy about her.

  She was beautiful in a 1940's starlet kind of way, with platinum hair that curled around her pale, angelic face, pouty, ruby-red lips, heavy but well-done makeup, and an hour-glass figure that made a man's palms itch to get his hands on. It hadn’t been too long ago that I would have had her in the back alley on her knees, but now her aggressive confidence turned me off. In fact, everything about her turned me off. She looked too perfect.

  She wasn't Ginger.

  Ginger was perfect.

  "Yeah, give me one more," I finally said, thankful when she walked away. I didn't even watch the sway of her ass in that too-tight dress she was wearing.

  "Thought I'd find you here, brother."

  "What the fuck, brother?" I growled after Jace pulled out a chair and joined me. "You're supposed to be watching my woman."

  He held up his hands as if to ward off an attack. "Relax, man, she hasn't left her friend's apartment in five days. Besides, Skipper has been hanging around. No sense in both of us losing sleep."

  Vinny had offered to pay for a live-in assistant for Della until she was on her feet again, but at the last minute they'd decided that Ginger was the best person to do that, so instead they had hired another waitress to cover her shifts at the bar, while paying Ginger to take care of Della. It only made sense since the girls were like sisters. "I'm not paying Skipper. He's marking his territory," I grumbled.

  "You're not paying me, either. Something like this, I don't charge a brother."

  I knew Jace well enough to know when he'd made up his mind about something. His tone, and the determined look on his face, told me that he'd fight me on this. "Thanks."