Never Kiss an Outlaw: Deadly Pistols MC Romance (Outlaw Love)

by Nicole Snow

  “No.” Jimmy sat up straight, reaching near his belt, struggling for something there. “I'm not going anywhere. I'm going out my way, Dusty. Didn't wanna tell you before...”

  His hand came up clutching a gun. I shot up and drew my nine in a split second, all my instincts from the Army coming back like lightning.

  “Freeze, fuckin' asshole!” I roared.

  “Put it down!” Dust barked, grabbing my arm, wide eyed and crazy. “He doesn't mean any arm. He's...”

  The Prez was at a loss for words. He reached out slowly and took the gun from Jimmy without a fight. The two men shared a look across time and space that had me truly fucking baffled.

  Nothing about this shit made sense.

  Goddammit. Orders were orders, weren't they? Fighting the urge to put a bullet between the drunkard's head before he did the same shit to us, I let my arm fall.

  I stuffed my gun back into its holster and sat down, growing madder by the minute at the vicious mystery killing us here.

  What the fuck was going on? Seriously?

  “Hey, never said you could keep it!” Jimmy snarled, reaching across the table. The edge caught him in the guts and he started coughing, toppling over and hacking up a fucking lung.

  “You'll get this back when you tell me exactly what you're planning. I'm not letting you die by your own fucking bullet, buddy. We've come too damned far for that.”

  “Godddamnit, Dusty, you're a bastard to the end.” He slumped in his chair, pounding his chest, giving us both a look that made me damned glad the Prez was holding that gun. “Already said – I'm going out my way. I'm a dead man no matter what I do, Dusty. You fucking know it. You think a skinny ass sheriff like me will last a month before getting gutted in the pen? I can't wait for you and the club pulling any strings. I'm screwed, blued, and tattooed.”

  “All that booze's going to your head, old man. Doesn't have to go down like this.” Dust paused before he lobbed the next grenade. “It's gonna be hell on your Cora as it is. You really want me to tell her that her old man died a coward? Offed himself like a fuckin' lemming?”

  “Asshole!” Jimmy shot up, tried to punch the Prez.

  I was on my feet in a second, ready to grab him, but the Cap'n motioned me. No. Let it ride.

  So, I did, and watched him fall face first into the table. He lifted himself up slowly, red faced and blubbering like a baby.

  Fucking pathetic. Hell, right up there with the most pathetic sights I'd ever burned my eyes on.

  I wanted to spit in this fucker's face, and then shake the Prez stupid for dragging my ass out here when I could've been back in bed, balls deep in blonde pussy.

  “This is my choice, Dusty. Mine.” Jimmy bared his chipped teeth. “You take care of my little girl and leave me fucking be. I'm a dead man anyway with a Torches' hit on my back. I can wait for them to flay my skin off, maybe set me on fire, or I can go out my way. Easy.”

  What the fuck? My eyes bugged the hell outta their sockets.

  The Atlanta Torches were our allies, but only because Prez's old man had given us a shotgun wedding with 'em when things started heating up with the Deadhands MC.

  We both hated the Deads, and that was good enough. Dust looked at me while he reached out to Jimmy, and threw him back in his seat so hard I thought he'd push the drunk to the floor.

  Not now, his dark gray eyes said. You can save your stupid questions for when we're done with this sack of shit.

  I was about to roll with 'em anyway. Nothing about this situation made any goddamned sense.

  Why were we helping this asshole when he'd fucked up bad enough to cross the Torches in our territory?

  We should've rolled out the red carpet to let our buddies put a knife in his throat.

  Something stank, so bad my nostrils hurt.

  Jimmy shook his head and slumped in his seat, finally defeated. I stood up, ready to get some fucking answers or at least slug the last of that booze. But before I could cross the kitchen, we heard the screen door we'd come through open and bang shut again.

  The drunk sat up like he'd seen a ghost. Prez collected himself, and got on his feet, striking the power pose he always did before he had to size some shit up. I froze in my tracks, one hand on the bottle of Johnnie, and the other on my gun.

  I only saw her for a second before the brightest blue eyes I'd ever seen locked onto mine.

  Fuck. She's...goddamned beautiful.

  I'd expected anything between heaven and hell to come walking into the kitchen.

  Never expected an angel, if angels were allowed to have racks like strippers and asses like the rising sun, so hot and full and beautiful I went fucking blind for a solid second.

  Good thing she was dressed like a pastor's daughter, an old timey skirt reaching to her ankles. I wanted it gone – ripped to shreds. Never mind the fact that it was the only thing stopping me from losing it for a lot longer.

  “Daddy? What's going on here?” She dropped her eyes and walked right past me, heading for the table.

  I did a double-take as I spun around. No fucking way.

  That miserable old drunk yammering about how boned he was shat out this...this sweet, hot, fuckable babe? This walking piece of perfection who got me so damned hard in all of two seconds I forgot why I wanted to put my fist through the nearest wall while chugging Johnnie?

  “Cora, girl, you close your sweet mouth and listen,” Jimmy rambled, sweat rolling off him like a damned hog. “I'm...I'm going away for a while. A good, long while girl. I did some bad things.”

  Wasn't sure who's mouth hung wider – hers or mine.

  “What?!”

  “Cora, don't...don't you fucking cry on me. I can't take it.”

  The selfish bastard grabbed her by the arms and pulled her into his chest. Hot, angry tears rolled down his eyes while his daughter fought to get outta his grip.

  Cora. I watched her eyes tremble, wishing I could spark a shine in them that would be a whole lot happier.

  A pang of guilt rattled my chest. This wasn't the time to think about bending her over and finding out how well that round ass bounced beneath me.

  Try not to think about it, you bastard. Try, try, try.

  Yeah, good fucking luck.

  I put the bottle down and looked on, eyeballing the Prez while she talked to her dad. The disapproving look on his face aimed at me was almost as bad as the one he had for Jimmy.

  “These men are here to give you a better life. I know what they look like, and you're going to be scared, but you have to trust them. Do everything they say. They'll keep you safe. Dusty and I go way back. You can trust him, just like I do.” Jimmy looked up, his eyes shining like he'd sobered up as he stared at the Prez.

  Dust nodded. Very slowly, the cop let his daughter go. She stumbled backward with a look of confusion that almost made me sorry for the hard-on thumping in my denim.

  “Firefly.” Dust looked at me and motioned to the girl.

  My cue to step up. I moved real slow, tried to hide the fact that I wanted to lay her against the nearest surface and fuck her brains out. She must've saw right through it, seeing how she backed herself into the nearest corner like a scared cat.

  “It's okay. Prez is talking truth. We're not here to hurt you.”

  “How do I know that?!” she screamed, looking past me desperately. “Daddy, what the hell is going on here? I just came home and you're passing me off to these dirty bikers?”

  Dirty? I clenched my teeth. I'd taken a good, long shower before I tapped the slut, scrubbing every damned drop of grease and motor oil off my skin.

  “Cora, just listen to me. Just this last time. You don't understand. God willing, one day you will. This is the way it's gotta be. Baby, I'm sorry, but this has to be goodbye. No way around it.” He looked away from her, his whole body starting to shake. “I'm going away for a long time. Dusty...give me my gun and get her the hell out of here.”

  Her eyes lit up like the moon when she heard him say gun. Then she
started screaming bloody murder.

  “Gun? Gun?! Daddy – why?” Those tears filling up her pearly blues became waterfalls. “You've lost your mind! I have to get out of here, call the police, before something –“

  Fuck no. Only thing happening here was settling her ass down.

  I grabbed her, and she smashed her elbow into my stomach, fighting with everything she had to rip me off her. Fuck, fuck.

  “Cora! Go easy on her, bastard. Easy. Just because I'm leaving this world doesn't mean I won't gouge your fucking eyes out if you hurt my little girl!” Jimmy fumed, throwing his fists against his sides again and again.

  “Get her in the garage 'til she calms down! Gag her if you have to. Shit, use the Johnnie...” Prez motioned to the bottle, shaking his head. “Fuck you, Jimmy. This is not the way I wanted this to go down.”

  “You owe me, asshole! Last time I'm gonna say it...you think this is easy?” His face creased wicked as he stared at his girl in my arms, kicking an trying her best to scream. “No! It's my choice. The only fucking one I got. I'm a dead man, but Cora...she can live. She's got a chance if you get her the fuck away from me.”

  Time to leave this shitshow. I left the bottle behind after all.

  Last thing this girl needed in her system right now was booze. She'd puke it up if it didn't kill her first, knowing her old man was determined to leave this planet, and leave her to us.

  “Come on,” I whispered, using my softest voice. Still came out like a growl. I let her thrash for a few more seconds, holding her arms against my chest.

  I'd keep on doing it 'til she realized her fight was hopeless, or else her arms and legs gave out. That hard-on I'd had earlier?

  Fucking thing died in my pants. Even I wasn't a big enough bastard not to feel this shit stabbing me straight through the skull like a dagger.

  She was losing everything. Saw herself spiraling down the drain, into a whole new world leading God only knew where. And all because the piece of shit at the table made her – and the Prez obliged his greedy ass for reasons I wasn't following.

  Jimmy and the Prez kept mouthing something to each other I couldn't hear. I held her and rocked her real gentle for a few more seconds, 'til finally that fire in her belly went out.

  “Good girl. We'll hang out for a little bit in the garage before we find out where we're going next, yeah?”

  She didn't fight when I led her away. Hell, if anything, those blue eyes in her pretty little face reminded me of marbles, so soft and vibrant when they were brand new, and now they were getting tarnished as fuck.

  I let her go once we stepped outside, giving her a little space, but never taking my eyes off her.

  Couldn't wrap my head around it. Nobody this pretty should've come from that drunk's balls, and she was like a fucking ten.

  Early twenties, tits so full they would've overflowed in my hand, an ass just begging to be spanked when she mouthed off. I wanted to wrap her long gold locks around my fingers, feel every fiber tense while those long legs hidden underneath her skirt hugged me.

  And that wasn't stopping to think what the hell was up with the schoolteacher garb neither. Fucking shit.

  My gaze followed her to her daddy's work bench, where she plopped down and smoothed her hair back, drying the tears on her cheeks with one sleeve.

  “What do you do for a living, babe? You look like a real...professional.”

  Hot piece of ass was what I wanted to say. But something told me a chick like this wouldn't appreciate that kinda compliment the way a club bitch would.

  She looked up, her eyes narrowed. “I'll go where you want, but I don't have to answer your questions. Daddy said you wouldn't hurt me. I'm going to trust you'll keep that promise.”

  My hands formed fists at my side. It was like the little minx was challenging me.

  No, of fucking course I wouldn't hurt her. She'd been battered enough for the day, and no man in this club ever got away with roughing up a woman.

  But they didn't ordinarily stand there with their dicks hanging out and nothing to say neither, and I took her shit without barking back, just this once.

  She deserved a break, as long as she cooperated on the way home to the clubhouse, or wherever the fuck Dust wanted to take her.

  “Well? Are you going to stand there or tell me where we're going? If these are daddy's dying wishes, or something, I'd kind of like to know what's in store next.” She wrinkled her nose. “What are you, anyway? My bodyguard?”

  I turned my back and didn't say shit. Fuck me.

  For a nervous little girl who looked like she'd just stepped straight outta 1910, she had one helluva mouth behind those plush pink lips.

  I turned to her slowly, cherry picking my words. “I'm the guy who's gonna make sure your life doesn't wind up more fucked up than it already is, Cora. If the Prez says I'm your keeper, then that's the way it'll be. You're shot to shit right now because of what your old man just pulled, I get it. That's the only reason why I'm standing here like a good boy instead of marching over and stuffing a gag in your mouth.”

  She rolled her eyes, and my fingers twitched. If we made it outta here without another fucking scene, I'd be tossing and turning tonight for sure, imagining how good she'd squirm with my big hand slapping her sweet ass 'til she learned some damned respect.

  Her mouth popped open, but whatever sass she had planned was drowned out by new commotion inside the house. Prez started screaming at the drunk.

  “You stupid toasted asshole – let go! You're not getting a hold of this shit! I'm not standing here while you splatter your damned brains all over your place. Fuck's sake, Jimmy, your little girl's standing right outside. Just breathe.”

  “Fuck you! I know what I gotta do, there ain't another choice!” The drunk's voice sounded rushed, desperate, angry. “Outta my way, Dusty. Don't make me shoot you, too.”

  Shit. I stood on the step leading inside, one hand on my nine, ready to bust in if the standoff got ugly. I could feel Cora's tense little eyes all over me, standing behind me, scared for her life.

  “You won't. Give it the fuck back!” Dust exploded, his voice so loud it was barely muffled by the wall between us. “Don't be a goddamned idiot. Please. For her sake, if you don't give two fucks about your own anymore. We'll figure shit out with the Torches, take you away and stash you somewhere safe, same as her. Come on. It's not too late, Jimmy. You've been like a brother to me. I'll never walk away easy if I let it go down like –“

  One deafening gunshot silenced the Cap'n.

  Cora jumped. I pulled my nine, and my fist hit the door, making enough space to peek inside.

  “Daddy? Daddy?!” I heard her call behind me, her voice dying in a brutal whisper.

  Dust was heading toward me, a grim look on his face. “He fucking did it. Couldn't talk the stupid motherfucker out of shit. Nothing left to do except take care of the girl like we planned,” he growled.

  Prez punched the button for the garage, and we listened to it creak open. “On it, Prez. Cora?“

  I walked toward her, ready to grab her hand and help her up. “Shit. Girl, I'm real sorry for what just went down. You never should've heard any of that. I –“

  Felt like I was touching ice when I pushed her fingers through mine. She just stood there, her eyes barely bigger than her open mouth. The girl had gone damned near catatonic, and who could fucking blame her?

  I helped her onto my ride. Wrapped her arms around me, and told her to hold on tight, making sure she could at least do that before we moved.

  It wasn't 'til she was on the back of my bike and I had a helmet strapped to her head that she started to wail. Dust revved his engine and pointed a finger at the road.

  Forward. No delays.

  I nodded. It was a long, hellish ride through Knoxville. I made damned sure Cora's arms stayed locked around me, and I held her small, soft hand the whole way home.

  If I could've fixed the hole in her old man's head and killed him all over again for putting her t
hrough this gruesome bullshit, I'd have done it in a heartbeat.

  But the Prez was dead right. Nothing left to do except keep her safe. Well, just one more thing, after the big two.

  Protect her.

  Keep her sane.

  And find out what the ever-living fuck was going on here.

  II: Wires Crossed (Cora)

  The bike's tires spun, loud and dizzy, but they had nothing on my head.

  A couple hours ago, I'd been finishing up my paperwork with Mister Fisher, the kind, older teacher helping me intern in his ninth grade math class. Daddy had been sick at home the last few days, so I'd stopped at the drug store on my way home and picked up some cold medicine.

  Now, he was dead. I'd heard the gunshot that killed him, put him out of the soul killing misery dripping off him like the sweat and liquor I'd smelled the last time we embraced.

  Now, I was pressed up against this hulk in his ink and leather, this utter bastard who looked like a Viking and talked like he'd just stepped out of prison.

  Now, I couldn't begin to piece together what was left of my life.

  I should've snapped. Shattered. Died on the spot.

  Instead, I was riding with this demon. My mind, my soul, my heart in ruins, broken so suddenly they turned me into a zombie, the only thing that kept me from throwing a fit and falling onto the road blurring by beneath us.

  It didn't help that the monster who'd forced his way into my life was handsome in a rogue I'm-going-to-fuck-you-up or just fuck-you kind of way.

  Big, brutal shoulders that would've made any linebacker or champion lifter jealous. Ice blue eyes, colder and darker than mine. Light cinnamon colored hair lay thick on his head, connecting with the solid stubble on his chin, sandpaper that looked like it would scratch in all the right ways against a woman's skin.

  He looked too good to be bad, but I wasn't a fool. He had the patch, just like the older man riding ahead of us. The winged skull with two guns to the side that told me daddy had buried himself very deep, before he'd taken his life.