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

by Nicole Snow

  “Joker. Firefly. You boys...you're taking the lead now. Hold the club together while I try to un-fuck myself. I...” Prez tried to talk more, but his eyes rolled back in his head.

  Shit. Fuck.

  “Fuck trying to drive him. We need Laynie out here now, dammit!” I barked orders.

  “On it.” Joker had his burner phone out, dialing her number.

  Meanwhile, the prospects tore off their shirts, ripping them into neat strips so we could try to stop the bleeding. Behind us, we heard laughter, the rumble of the last few Torches' bikes.

  Rage flashed red on Skin's face when we heard the fence surrounding our garage get bowled over. The whole crew of fuckers must've flattened it on the way out, judging by the rattle.

  I looked at Dust and grit my teeth. His eyes were closed, and his pulse was slowing in my hands, but he held on.

  “Just keep it together a little bit longer, brother,” I whispered, gingerly squeezing his hand.

  We'd get him patched up. Then Joker and me would figure out how the fuck we'd kill every last one of the miserable shits who'd jumped us.

  They'd made it personal, too, the stupid fucks, the very second they'd mentioned Cora. And pushing our Prez against the wall, causing him to slice his own fuckin' throat?

  They were already dead.

  God willing, we'd smoke 'em without any more of our boys suffering for it.

  * * * *

  We stood around while Laynie show up, worked her magic, and then got him into her car. The woman was always a beast under pressure, patching guys up and saving lives, but she worked like a double demon on her own son.

  Soon as she had him stable, riding with her to the clinic, we got on our bikes and rode straight to the clubhouse. The old mustangs with their bikes in the shop would have to wait. Club business trumped civilian shit any day of the week, and it had never been this serious.

  Half an hour later, we were all in the meeting room. Felt strange to see the Prez's chair empty – or close enough.

  Bingo sat in it like a fuckin' person, his massive, hairy body taking up the full seat. Everybody watched the big dog, his lazy tongue hanging outta his mouth, ignorant to the heavy cloud hanging over the club.

  “Think you oughta let him sit there?” Sixty said, lighting a smoke.

  “Prez ain't dead. Better him than any of us. He's keeping it warm.” Joker looked at me, and I nodded, putting my fists on the table.

  “We've gotta figure out how we're gonna handle this shit. No telling how long Dust'll be out of commission 'til Laynie fills us in.”

  “We can't go after 'em. Fuckers own Atlanta with their mob connections. Outstate Georgia's Deads' territory. They've got themselves a moat surrounding their asses, made of our worst enemies.” Skin tried to reason, like he always did.

  “Yeah,” I said, wishing like hell it weren't true. Brother was right. “We don't have the numbers and we don't know the territory well enough to hit 'em where they live. Chances are their old school ties to every mafia and gang in Dixie would tell 'em we're coming, too.”

  “What do we do?” Crawl pushed his shaggy black hair back. “Don't give a shit what we decide, just as long as it means they die.”

  “Everybody's on the same page there, brother. We can't be fuckin' idiots. Need to watch our asses,” I said. “Let's look at the situation. We've bought ourselves some time, giving 'em their guns. They came in all pissed about that dead fuck, Jimmy, foaming at the mouth so much they didn't give a shit about tearing up our partnership.”

  “Go on.” Joker had his knife out, holding it by the blade. Crazy fucker looked like he wanted to push his fingers down on it, slice them clean off.

  Who the hell ever knew what was rolling through his head?

  “We'll lure them onto our turf for another round. This time, we'll find out when they're back. We won't be caught with our pants around our ankles again.”

  “Lure them?” Sixty snorted. “Shit, bro, it won't take much. Red Beard said he'd be back if he found out we fucked 'em on anything else.”

  “Yeah, and we have.” Everybody looked at me. “Cora. They're gonna find out about her sooner or later. It's my job to keep her safe. Seeing the Prez take a hit made me realize I can't do it as long as they're breathing. I'll let 'em find out she's ours – mine – but I'll make damned sure they don't come within ten miles of where I've got her holed up.”

  “Fuck me – you're using your girl as bait?” Skin's eyes narrowed. He looked at me, then at Joker.

  The Veep looked up, suddenly done playing Russian roulette with his knife. “He's right. Girl's the only lure we got.”

  Steam nearly shot out my fuckin' ears. I hated hearing her talked about like a goddamned piece of meat. I really fuckin' hated that this was the only way to keep her safe and do justice.

  My fist hit the table. “Look, I'm the last fuckin' guy at this table who wants to do any of this. Red Beard's an arrogant piece of shit with a temper like a damned volcano. You saw what he did to Prez.”

  “Yeah,” Skin growled. “We all saw.”

  “How do you think he'll react when he hears we've got Jimmy's girl? Bastard thinks we double-crossed him once. Twice – he'll flip his shit. The Torches'll come roaring into town for blood. We'll have a bear trap ready to snap their fucking legs off. Cora's never gonna be in a lick of danger, if I've got anything to say about it.”

  And fuck me, I did. Had it all mapped out in my head, every grim, dirty detail coming together to protect her, avenge the Prez, restore the club's honor after the kick in the balls they'd given us.

  “What the fuck are you thinking, Firefly?” Skin growled. “I'm gonna trust you on keeping her safe. You know the special treatment the Prez has given this girl from day one. Don't know how the hell you think you're gonna announce her, bring them into our ambush, without leading 'em smack into her.”

  I stood, looking over all my brothers, one by one. “We're gonna piss off Red real bad. Let the fucker know we lied right to his face. Announce it in the open.”

  I paused. They all looked at me, waiting. I flexed my fists, finally ready to speak the words chewing at my insides.

  “Truth is, I'm claiming Cora. She's getting my brand slapped on her skin and a ring on her finger before shit flies. Torches' spies'll hear all about it. We'll hit 'em hard when they come charging in, assuming big Red doesn't have a fuckin' stroke first...”

  “Shit!”

  “Fuck!”

  “Goddamn!”

  Several brothers bellowed at once, laughter and shock filling up the room. Joker's knife slammed into the table, adding one more gouge to his spot, already knifed to kingdom come. Bingo sat up and barked, cutting through the commotion. We all piped down as the Veep stood, ruffling Bingo's furry head with one hand.

  “Fuck, and they call me crazy,” he said, giving me an ice cold look. “You're gonna lose your dick when the Prez finds out.”

  “Then we'd better move fast. I plan on keeping my pisser. Dust'll be mighty forgiving when he finds out we've mopped up the Atlanta assholes while he's laid out in recovery. Besides, this shit goes deeper than just keeping her safe and cleaning up this fuckin' heap. Cora and me, we're together now. For real.”

  Sixty grinned, his goattee twitching. “You poor bastard. You sure you're ready to be a married fucking man?”

  “I'm more worried about her,” Skin growled, the long scar on his cheek catching the light. “She has to want this, brother. She doesn't, I'm gonna make damned sure she's got an out the instant we've got the Torches' guts smeared across the Smokies.”

  “She will,” I said, giving him a look from hell. Bastard was probably bent out of shape because he'd been the first brother engaged to his old lady, and now I'd beat him to the altar. “Cora wants me. She needs me. She's fuckin' suffered for everything she's got, and I'm gonna make sure she never has to do it again.”

  “Whatever, bro. Joker's right. It's your cock on the line.” Sixty laughed, and Bingo barked again.

/>   “You heard him. Church adjourned,” Joker said, slamming the Prez's gavel down on hard wood. “Report back when you've got this shit in motion.”

  I nodded, ready as hell to head out and do what I had to do. Saving the club and killing all the Torches was gonna be easy as a run through the Tri-Cities, if I kept this manic energy going.

  Getting Cora to go along with it, a little harder.

  I'd find a way. Lived my whole life just drifting by like a fucking zombie. Only way I thought I could live after the shit I'd seen overseas. Men dying, villages burning, mass graves of poor sorry bastards killed in cold blood by terrorist fucks. We'd always stumble on that shit whenever we got too deep in the killing.

  No man fit easy in civvie life after being on a battlefield. It stayed with him, made him wild, stole his soul and all his drive for anything except the next adrenaline fix.

  Drinking, boozing, chasing down pussy to keep me company for just one night.

  Before Cora, pussy never got to my head. It was something to fuck, something to feel wrapped around every throbbing inch of me, good for just a shot or two. No different than what I did when I hit the bottle.

  Before Cora, I couldn't have dreamed about chasing down pussy for more than just a fuck. Owning a woman past more than the pink was as alien as the big yellow moon in the sky.

  Now, I craved it. I wanted it so bad I could feel it smoking in my veins like fire.

  I need her. Bad. Needed to keep her. It fuckin' scared me.

  Every brother sharing my patch knew how I fought. The unlucky motherfuckers who'd been on the receiving end of my fists, my shots, or my matches and kerosene knew I never backed down. I never winced. I never quit 'til I'd buried the bastards lined up against me and my club alive.

  Fighting, killing, torturing...none of that shit raised a single hair on my neck.

  Cora, on the other hand...my life after Cora...what the hell did that look like? Not a damned clue, but I wanted it.

  I rode hard through town, heading for my girl. I could taste her on my lips already, feel her soft gold hair in my hands as they gripped my bike's handlebars.

  Before, this free life of blazing down the road and setting panties on fire while I bombed my guts with booze was plenty.

  I still wanted some of that – the riding, the freedom, the fresh mountain air sucked between my teeth. But it didn't hold a flame against my screaming need to see my brand on her ass while she called me her old man.

  I'd own this girl. I'd make it work, however many fucks I had to fight.

  I'd have it all, everything I'd dreamed about, coming into reach. Or I'd be dead.

  VIII: By the Hook (Cora)

  “Here.” Tawny pushed crumpled cash into my hands, wiping the last beads of sweat off her brow.

  “Thanks. Go get yourself some water.” I smiled, stuffing the bills into my special binder for Meg, before I carted them back to the safe in her office.

  The stripper nodded, turned around, and scurried away. I swore she stopped just short of a salute.

  They never even tested me anymore. The brush with Tony had only fed the legend. Several girls saw Firefly pounce at just the right time. Now, everybody feared dealing with him, if they took a jab at me.

  Sweet victory, I thought, an extra spring in my step as I sat down for accounting.

  In the office, I did a quick tally of everything I'd collected this shift. My mouth dropped open when Tawny's tips took it over thirty five hundred.

  A new record for my shift!

  “Hey, babe.” Firefly chose the best timing in the world to walk through the door. Rather, his huge, rock hard body stopped and filled the entire frame, resting his hands on the sides.

  “You're just in time!” And I meant it. I got up, ran to him, and threw my arms around his gorgeous neck.

  We kissed. So hard, hot, and sticky I thought he'd kick the door shut and take me right there.

  Honestly, I wouldn't have resisted, so high on success I'd let him have anything, anywhere.

  The unimaginable was happening. The club got richer thanks to me. I'd found something I was actually good at. Hauling in this kind of cash every night told me that maybe this life wasn't so strange after all – and just maybe, I could make it.

  “Fuck, you taste good. What's all that for?” he asked, breaking the kiss reluctantly. His strong hands held on to me.

  “I'm happy to see you, silly. It's been a great night for money. Meg and Skin are going to be really happy.”

  He grunted. “Yeah, Skinny boy can use some of that shit after the kinda day we've had.”

  I looked at him and cocked my head. He didn't elaborate.

  Instead, he pushed me gently inside, shut the door, and sat in the chair across from Meg's desk. The normal office chair looked tiny with him filling it, and I couldn't help but smile.

  It was either that, or think about everything that mountain he called a body did to me.

  “Finish up. We've gotta hit the road.”

  “Okay! We should stop by the store later. I'd like to pick up a few things for the place, especially now that we're both getting settled in.”

  I didn't notice his face had darkened until I looked up. Those soft blue eyes were like icy stones. He had the same stare as the one when he'd knocked out Tony Pearson the other night.

  “That's gonna have to wait, babe. We're staying at my sister's place for the next week or two, or however the fuck long it takes to wrap up important club biz.”

  My fingers came to a dead stop on Meg's keyboard, logging the day's profits on the spreadsheet. What?!

  “Sister? I didn't even know you had one! What business? What are you talking about, Firefly?”

  “All the boys got into a bad fight with the Torches today. They came here, pissed off about your old man, looking for you. Prez shrugged them the fuck off. They tucked their tails and ran, but that shit won't last long. They're dangerous. Outta control. They'll be back. Means we're gonna deal with 'em on our own terms..”

  “But I mean...our place...” I looked down at the dusty computer screen, my heart sinking. “Jesus, my work here...”

  “Meg'll hear it soon. She'll work around it, have somebody cover your shifts 'til hell blows over. God willing, you'll only be outta commission for a little while.” He stood, crossed the small space to my desk, and put his hands down flat, gazing straight into my eyes. “No bullshitting, babe. I'm trying to save your life.”

  I wanted to cry. Just when I'd started to relax, feel at home with him, and this strange, dirty underworld...

  “What's the plan?” I said softly, wondering if I even wanted to know.

  “Like I said, my sis is giving us her place for the next week or two. Hannah's a hotshot traveler for the banks, spends half the fuckin' year over in Switzerland or the Virgins or some shit. Her house is nice. Lot bigger than the apartment.”

  His teeth clenched when he said the last part. I came up behind him, and laid my hand softly on his shoulders. Thought it was just because there was a gaping hole between him and his sister, and he'd let me in on it, in his own little way.

  “There's more, darlin'. We're not just hiding the fuck out 'til this all blows over. I gotta be honest. Can't lie to you.”

  I looked at him, narrowing my eyes. For the millionth time since I'd been thrown into all of this, my heart raced, thumping along with a steady, revving tempo, ready to tear me in two.

  “I can't take the mystery here. Tell me.”

  “No. I'll show you. Come on.” He grabbed my hand, rough and insistent.

  Before I knew what was happening, we were leaving the office. Firefly pulled me toward the curtain. I started dragging my feet – what the hell was he doing? Didn't he know they were right in the middle of Honey-Bee's late night act?

  “Firefly, no!” There wasn't any stopping him.

  He was too strong, too persistent, and the lights blinded me the second we stepped out on stage. Huge, glaring spotlights and neon red would've wrecked anyone's e
yesight after spending eight hours in the gloomy blackness backstage.

  The music came to a screeching halt. Honey-Bee swung from a giant sling above us, wearing nothing except tall white heels and those fake crystal angel wings she always slipped on before her act. She looked down on us, totally confused, a ball of feathers in her hand she'd been ready to blow to the horny men as part of her tease.

  Then the catcalls started.

  “Take it the fuck off, baby! All the waaaay!”

  “What the hell's this big biker asswipe doin' on stage? Didn't know this place was licensed for hardcore fuck shows...”

  “Honey-Beee!”

  I pushed myself into him, desperately pushing my nails into his neck, holding his eyes. “Firefly – please! We can't be out here.”

  “No, babe. Keep breathing. I've got something for you.”

  He reached into his pocket. His hand took mine, held it up, and I watched the bright gold ring in the club's bright lights slide onto my finger as he shoved it in place.

  “Everybody listen up!” Firefly boomed, roaring through the crowd. When he spoke, their chatter stopped, like a hurricane silencing the ocean. “Came out here tonight to let ya'll know I'm claiming this girl. Cora Chase is about to be the best goddamned old lady a man could ever ask for, and an even better wife. One round for everybody on me!”

  The crowd erupted, hooting and hollering. The few lone women stuffed between the clammy, horny bastards screamed like they'd just won the lottery. Free booze meant the world to old bar flies so desperate for booze they came here with their husbands just to drink.

  Hell, I wanted to join them. I could've used a tall, stiff drink right now. Maybe ten of them.

  The entire club blurred. I couldn't follow what was happening. That ring around my finger felt like a leash, a noose, a choke point trying to smother my whole world for the second time in a month.

  “Crank the fuckin' music up when I'm done,” Firefly growled, grinning to the crowd, still holding up the new ring on my hand triumphantly with his. “Play something sappy and loud about love, I don't give a shit, DJ. I just want this whole fuckin' town to know that Cora's Property of Firefly now. I'm gonna love her, keep her, and never, ever let her go.”