“Damn.”
“Cox, call the fuckin’ boys. Have ’em stick with Ripper ’til I figure this shit out.”
“Got it.”
He shoved his phone back in his pocket and headed back the way he came. After grabbing another beer, he headed out the kitchen door. The door had just barely shut behind him when he felt the barrel of a gun pressed against his temple. Startled, he dropped his beer.
“What’s up, fucker? Think I didn’t see you standin’ there watchin’ me? Think I don’t know you’re here for me? Been waitin’ on you assholes for a grip now. Figured you didn’t give a fuck I carved your boy up, but here you are givin’ a fuck. Took you long enough.”
He didn’t say anything. There wasn’t anything he could say that would make a man like Frankie back down. He had to think fast, or he was going to die. Frankie didn’t fuck around. So he played the only card he had. Eva.
“Saw your old lady in there, Frankie; she’s lookin’ fuckin’ good.”
The barrel pressed in harder. “She’s my fuckin’ wife, and you shouldn’t be lookin’. People who look get fuckin’ dead real fuckin’ quick.”
Wife? Christ.
He shrugged. “She ever tell you ’bout us?”
Frankie went stiff. “There ain’t shit to tell,” he growled.
Perfect. So perfect. Asshole walked himself right into it.
“First taste wasn’t yours, kid. That was all fuckin’ mine. Demon barbeque ’bout fourteen years ago. Right after she fuckin’ denied you, I had your bitch up against a wall, a hand on her tit, two fingers up inside, and my tongue shoved so far down her throat I could taste her heart beatin’. Bitch loved it, was ready to give it up right fuckin’ there. Didn’t even remember your fuckin’ name ’cause she’s pantin’ mine. Her first fuck, got that, too. Stripped her naked and fucked her in an alleyway in the pourin’ rain. Had her fuckin’ beggin’ me for it.”
Frankie sucked in so much air Deuce felt the world go dry. Time to sucker punch. He slammed his elbow into Frankie’s chest, simultaneously grabbing the barrel of the gun, and then he grabbed Frankie’s arm and twisted, wrenching him to the ground. With one hand gripping Frankie’s forearm, he put his boot on the fucker’s shoulder and fucking yanked. Crazy fucker didn’t even scream when his shoulder dislocated. Didn’t even flinch.
Crazy. So fucking crazy.
Pressing Frankie’s own gun into his forehead, he leaned down over him.
“Know how I know I had her first? Aside from her being tighter than a motherfuckin’ vice? Bitch fell to her knees after she caught fire and sucked her own pussy blood off my cock. Didn’t even know what she was doin’, but bitch fuckin’ licked my shit clean and let me blow in her mouth. So it don’t matter how many times you been takin’ that ride ’cause I fuckin’ own that shit. You can choke on that while your brains are leakin’ all over the place.”
“If you kill me,” Frankie said quietly, eerily calm, “you’ll kill Eva.”
He blinked.
“What?”
“Eva. I die, she dies.”
“How do you fuckin’ figure?”
He grinned. “As a weddin’ present, I put a fuckin’ hit on her. I die, she dies. Bitch by my side in life, bitch by my side in death. Way it should be.”
He. Just. Stared.
Stared.
There wasn’t a whole lot in this fucked-up world that could shock him. He’d seen so much shit in the forty-eight years he’d been alive, most of which had all happened to him personally. And it had happened so often that when he came across some pretty fucked-up shit, he wasn’t surprised. But this—Frankie telling him in all seriousness that he’d put a hit on Eva, his lifelong obsession, his motherfucking wife—had shocked the fucking shit out of him.
It also told him that Frankie needed to die. He just didn’t know how to take care of that with Eva’s life on the line. Yet.
With Frankie’s gun still trained on Frankie, he pulled out his cell phone and called Mick. Two by two, his boys began appearing at his side, forming a circle around Frankie. He held his palm up, silently telling them not to take Frankie out.
“Get up, you sick fuck,” Ripper growled.
Frankie got to his feet, his arm hanging limply at his side. He turned his back on them and positioned the side of his body against the house. With a heave and a shove, his shoulder popped back in its socket. Everyone stared. Fucker had balls of steel.
Rubbing his shoulder, he focused on Ripper. “Nice face, fuckwad. I were you I woulda just let me finish you off. Now you gotta go ’round life lookin’ like Freddy fuckin’ Krueger.”
Ripper’s gun hand started shaking. Jase grabbed his wrist and lowered his arm.
Frankie shook his head, smirking. “Fuckin’ bitches, the lot of you. Cryin’ ’bout scars and missin’ eyes like little fuckin’ girls.”
Frankie turned to him. “So I’ve been gettin’ Horsemen sloppy seconds all these years. Whore coulda least picked an MC prez worth fuckin’.”
Furious, he took a step forward.
Mick’s hand came down on his shoulder and squeezed. “He’s baitin’ us, Prez,” he whispered. “Crazy fuck wants one of us to step to him.”
Frankie grabbed a cigarette from behind his ear and dug out a Zippo from his front pocket, oblivious as all seven men tensed, ready to shoot.
He took a few long drags before he spoke again.
“Knew she wasn’t a virgin when I took her the first time. She cried like one, but she wasn’t. Never would tell me who broke her in. Been tryin’ to get her to give it up for fuckin’ years. She won’t ’cause she knows I’d kill ’im.”
His chest went tight. She was protecting him from fucking Frankie. He didn’t know whether to be insulted that she thought he needed protection from this fuck or to do a motherfucking jig because the woman obviously still cared about him.
“You’re fuckin’ twisted,” ZZ spat.
“Don’t matter anymore how fuckin’ twisted he is,” Jase hissed. “’Cause he’s done.”
Frankie ignored them. “Knowin’ it was you, shit makes sense now. Bitch cries in her sleep, says shit I don’t catch, but she’s always grabbin’ that fucking Horsemen tag ’round her neck and holdin’ tight when it happens. Never did think much of it, seein’ as she’s had it nearly her whole fuckin’ life, but you gave it to her, yeah?”
He didn’t say a word, but he didn’t need to. Frankie knew.
“Yeah,” Frankie said. “You got to know, Deuce, that shit ain’t sittin’ well with me.”
Tap laughed. “Why the fuck should he care if shit’s sittin’ well with you, you fuckin’ asshat? He’s not the cocksucker with seven fuckin’ cannons pointed at his fuckin’ head.”
Frankie, as usual, never seemed to care about anything other than Eva.
“Figure he’s gonna care when I’m rippin’ out his insides and makin’ Eva string ’em up on our Christmas tree.”
“Yeah, dude,” Tap muttered. “You’re fuckin’ normal.”
Frankie’s head whipped left, and he stared his crazy-eyed stare until Tap took a step back.
“Prez, what the fuck we waitin’ for?” Tap said warily. “Just fuckin’ kill him.”
Frankie grinned—an evil, sadistic grin that sent chills up his spine.
“Prez isn’t gonna let you kill me,” Frankie drawled. “Are you, Prez?”
“No,” he said flatly. “I’m not.”
“What the fuck?” Tap yelled. “Look at your boy’s face!”
He stared at Frankie, feeling nothing but hate. “He dies, Eva dies. Asshole put some fucked-up death pact hit on her.”
“Fuck,” Jase breathed.
“Then we can’t kill him,” Ripper said, pulling out his cell phone. “But we’re not lettin’ him go, so he can start decoratin’ Christmas trees either.”
“Yo, Gina, babe, it’s Ripper…yeah, babe, I know…babe…wait, I…no, I fuckin’ apologized for that shit…BABE…yeah, through a fuckin’ text message, wha
t the fuck you want? A singing telegram? Would you just shut the fuck up and listen to me? I need you to run a Franklin Deluva and tell me what you got.”
Frankie, looking bored, was leaning up against the side of the house, smirking at nothing.
Ripper held the phone away from his ear and glared at it. When Gina stopped screaming, he put the phone back to his ear. “Deluva, D-E-L-U-V-A…right.”
There was a long pause during which Ripper started to smile. “Fuckin’ sweet…bitch, I fuckin’ love you right now…” Another long pause. “Aw, Christ, Gina, don’t fuckin’ start up again…”
Deuce grabbed the phone and tapped End. “Care to share?” he growled.
“Bitch said he’s got four outstandin’ warrants for assault, and he’s wanted for questionin’ in two murder cases. She’s ’bout six hours out, so she’s passin’ the bid to some dude named Crank nearby. Should be ’bout five minutes.”
Never in a million years would he have ever thought he’d be happy that Ripper was fucking a bounty hunter, seeing as his entire crew was swimming in illegal shit. But there it was.
“Tap, man the front door. Jase, the back. Make sure shit is tight until we get this wrapped.” Last thing they needed was a Demon-Horsemen standoff.
“And, Ripper, get rid of Nikki and put that fuckin’ kick-ass bitch on the back of your bike.”
“Yeah, dude,” Mick said. “Nikki’s a cunt.”
Ripper shrugged. “Yeah, but she’s got great tits.”
ZZ choked on his laughter. “’Cause you fuckin’ paid for ’em to be great.”
Ripper flipped ZZ off. “Gina’s a drive-by. Never fuckin’ around. What the fuck would I be fuckin’ in the meantime?”
He laughed. “Are you really gonna stand there and tell us you ain’t got shit to fuck ’sides Gina and Nikki? What a fuckin’ crock. Ever since your face got all fucked-up, bitches been fallen to their feet wantin’ to make your boo-boos all better. I see your dick so fuckin’ much you’d think I’m fuckin’ you.”
“Yeah, dude, you never put that fuckin’ thing away.”
Ripper glared at ZZ, and ZZ shrugged. “What? You don’t. And personally, I’m sick of seein’ it.”
“Tap!”
“Prez?”
“Find out who bought Eva’s hit from Frankie. Use whoever you got to—the fuckin’ Russians, the fuckin’ Japs, cash in all my fuckin’ favors, I don’t give a shit—just find ’em and end ’em.”
“On it.” Tap pulled out his cell and walked off.
“Prez?”
He turned around and found Jase standing beside Eva. She was staring at Frankie with tears in her eyes.
Shit.
“She came outside,” Jase explained. “Lookin’ for Frankie. She heard you, Prez.”
“You put a hit on me?” she whispered.
Frankie wasn’t smiling anymore. Eva took a step toward him, and Cox stepped between them and pressed the barrel of his gun into Frankie’s throat. “Don’t come near him, Foxy.”
“Why, baby?” she whispered. “What haven’t I given you that you needed?”
Frankie blinked. “Don’t fuckin’ cry, baby,” he said quietly. “Wasn’t tryin’ to hurt you, just wanted you with me always. Can’t fuckin’ sleep without you, and dyin’ is sleepin’ forever. Can’t sleep forever without you.”
Eva’s tears spilled over, and Frankie went stiff.
“I love you so much, baby,” Frankie whispered. “I thought you’d want to be with me forever.”
Letting out a strangled cry, Eva reached for him. He lunged forward to grab her, but ZZ was faster. Catching her around her middle, he started dragging her backward.
“No!” she screamed, thrashing. “Let me go to him!”
Seeing Eva upset and struggling, Frankie’s face went ice cold, and his eyes cut to Cox. Shit was about to go bad.
“Cox!” he bellowed. The crazy fuck grabbed the gun, headbutted Cox, then dropped to his knees. One swift punch to Cox’s balls, and then Frankie was jumping to his feet, aiming, not at Cox, but at him.
He didn’t think, just reacted, barreled straight into Frankie, and they went rolling. By punching Frankie in his newly set shoulder, Deuce was able to gain the upper hand and managed to pin him facedown in the dirt.
Cox was lying on the ground, cupping himself, groaning about never being able to fuck again. Eva was screaming hysterically and struggling violently, and ZZ was having a hard time keeping a good hold on her. It was a fucking mess.
“Gonna find a way to end you, asshole,” he hissed in Frankie’s ear.
Frankie laughed.
Frankie was still laughing when a pair of headlights turned off the street and headed up the driveway.
Crank was a big guy. An ex-Marine who had no trouble taking Frankie off his hands and chaining him up in the back of his ride. It wasn’t the preferred ending, but it was better than nothing, and it would keep Eva safe until he could figure out Frankie’s tangled web of crazy.
And speaking of crazy…
• • •
“No!” I screamed, struggling to get free as Frankie was taken away. “God, no! You can’t do this! He won’t make it!”
Frankie couldn’t go to jail. He wouldn’t last. He couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t play nice with others. It was a recipe for disaster.
“Good,” Mick sneered. “Let’s hope he doesn’t make it five fuckin’ seconds.”
I jerked my head in Mick’s direction. “You piece of shit!” I screamed. “Can’t ever keep your big fucking mouth shut! Always butting into business you have nothing to do with!”
“Reel it in, Eva,” Deuce growled.
I stopped struggling and stared at him. Had he lost his mind? My husband was being sent to his death, and he was telling me to reel it in. Oh, hell no.
I let out a bloodcurdling scream, twisted out of ZZ’s grasp, and headed straight for Deuce.
“You fuck!” I screamed, slapping, punching, clawing at any part of him I came into contact with. “You stupid piece of shit!”
It didn’t take him long to bring me down. Straddling my hips and pinning my wrists above my head, he glared at me. I happily noted his fat lip, bloody nose, and scratched cheek.
“What the fuck, Eva?” he roared. “You find out your man’s got a fuckin’ hit on you, and you’re attacking me?”
I was so beyond upset, beyond angry, beyond hurt. I felt so helpless, destroyed, ripped apart by my seams and everywhere in between. I’d been taking care of Frankie for so long now, and I was so tired, but it wasn’t his fault he was sick and couldn’t see things the way other people did.
As for Deuce. Who the fuck did he think he was?
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” I screamed.
“I’m pretty sure I’m the asshole who’s trying to save your fuckin’ life, you stupid bitch!”
“Stupid bitch? Stupid bitch! Don’t do me any favors, you fuck! I’ve never needed your help, and I sure as fuck don’t need it now!”
Blue eyes blazing, he lowered his face to mine. “Bitch,” he growled, “we came here to bury your fuckin’ man. What the fuck woulda happened if he wouldn’t have told us ’bout the hit? Huh? What, bitch? You fuckin’ tell me!”
I gathered as much saliva as I could and spit in his face. “Fuck you!” I yelled and bashed my forehead into his. My vision swam. That was definitely not as cool as it looked in the movies. Deuce shifted both my wrists into one of his hands and slapped his palm down on my forehead, holding my head down.
“You fuckin’ done?” he roared.
I was so far from done.
“The last time I saw you, you were getting your dick sucked by a club whore and trying to make out with me at the same time! The time before that I found you in the kitchen with a half-naked whore on your lap only a few hours after you fucked me! You’re fucking trash, Deuce! Fucking garbage! What the fuck makes you think I would be grateful to you for fucking anything?”
Deuce’s eyes were bugging out of
his head; his body was shaking with fury. Having a cold-blooded killer boring down on you with a murderous expression might have made any normal person feel fear, but I was so far gone. Pure adrenaline was more powerful than any street drug, and I was flying over the fucking mountain.
Not even the cold steel of Mick’s gun pressed into my cheek could cool me off.
“Reel it in, you fuckin’ cunt,” Mick growled.
“Fucking do it,” I hissed. “I fucking dare you, you stupid motherfucking piece of shit. Bring down every Demon in the fucking country on your stupid piece-of-shit ass!”
“Reel it the fuck in, Eva!” Deuce bellowed.
I looked back at Deuce. “Tell him to do it,” I hissed. “But let me close my eyes first. I don’t want your ugly fucking face to be the last thing I ever see.”
Deuce’s nostrils flared.
Mick’s hand jerked.
And that was the last thing I saw…for a little while.
CHAPTER TEN
Deuce stalked out of a no-tell motel office with three keys. He tossed one at Mick and another at Jase.
“What the fuck?” ZZ complained. “There are only two beds in a room.”
“You’re on the floor,” Ripper said.
“Fuck you,” he shot back. “You and Cox should share; it’s not like you don’t share everything else.”
Ripper grinned. “Best couple days of my life.”
“Speaking of Kami…” Cox looked down at Eva, who was passed out cold in his arms. “Prez?”
He shook his head. “She wakes up, and she’s with me, shit’s gonna get ugly. I’m the last fuckin’ asshole she wants to see.”
Mick cursed. “Why the fuck didn’t we just leave her there?”
“Dude,” Jase said, “you’d leave a hot piece of unconscious ass at a fuckin’ club party without her man? Might as well put a fuckin’ sign on her that says ‘Free fucks for all.’”
“Who fuckin’ cares?” Mick growled. “Bitch wasn’t even grateful that we’re tryin’ to save her ass! I shoulda knocked her harder, and then we wouldn’t be havin’ this discussion at all!”
He knew his boys were arguing, but he wasn’t listening. He was staring at Eva, hanging limply in Cox’s arms, replaying in his mind everything she’d said to him over and over and over again.
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