GIVE IN: God's Hellfire MC

by Naomi West

  We sat there, crowded around the TV monitor, watching everything unfold. I'd kind of drawn the worst spot, I guess, sitting on a folding chair right behind the driver's seat. I could see the TV just fine, but the audio could have been louder.

  But, from the what I could hear of Efraim, I knew something was up. He spoke freely, without a damn care in the world. No way he would admit to all this shit just so Micah would just walk away. He must have had one last ploy left to play.

  Avery looked back at me, her eyes narrowed and searching. She didn't believe me, I could tell. She just thought I was getting nervous.

  “You got what you need,” I said. “Get him out, now, or I'll go up there and do it myself.”

  She sighed and shook her head. “Fine, Kaci. Have it your way.” She turned and nodded to one of the agents sitting near the back of the van. “You heard the lady. Go bring her boyfriend home.”

  Before he could go for the door, or even say, “Yes, ma'am,” though, the audible click of the hammer being drawn back on a semi-automatic pistol filled the security van. There were only so many places it could have come from. It sure as hell hadn't been Gov, who was right next to me. Or Avery, or even the agent Avery had ordered to get Micah.

  “Not so fast,” a voice said from my left. “Mr. Petrov wants all of you right where you are.”

  I turned and looked at the source. The driver had his pistol out, with the barrel leveled at Gov, Avery, and the other agent. He had a big silencer attached to the end of it, like you see in the movies. At this distance, everyone but me was in the line of fire.

  “Really Jenkins?” Avery asked, clearly disbelieving what was happening.

  “You have to even ask me that?” Jenkins replied. “You don't even let me in the goddamn office when you're having meetings.”

  “Well,” Gov added in, “kinda makes sense now, doesn't it? The whole not letting you in.”

  “Shut the fuck up!” Jenkins shouted, the pistol shaking a little bit from his nerves.

  I glanced down, realized he didn't have his finger on the trigger. Instead, it was resting up against the side. If any of the other three tried something, like going for their gun or rushing them, he'd be able to fire off a few shots before they could get to him. Me, on the other hand . . .

  “I still don't even know what the fuck biker trash like you is even doing here,” Jenkins continued. “That's half the goddamned reason I flipped and started working for-”

  I lunged forward out of my folding chair, grabbing his pistol and forcing it upwards to the ceiling. He got his finger on the trigger, and the gun quietly popped as he fired into the roof of the van.

  Jenkins fought back, nearly wrestling it away from me, but Gov was soon by my side. Together, we kept the gun up and Gov was able to twist the gun away.

  The turncoat screeched and there was a loud crack as Gov ripped the gun from his hand. “My fucking finger!” Jenkins yelled as he cradled his hand and its broken finger in his lap, a look of complete disbelief on his face. “My fucking finger!” he screamed again, holding it up to shake it at Gov.

  “Serves you right, asshole,” Gov replied as he stepped back a little, out of Jenkins's reach.

  I glanced down at the TV monitor as Gov got the situation under control, just in time to see The Bear's bodyguards draw their sidearms.

  “Avery!” I screamed. “He's going after Micah!”

  Avery's attention turned back to the monitor, her eyes as big as saucers. She turned to the agent who had just been about to leave before Jenkins stopped us. “Go go go!” she shouted.

  Gov looked back behind him at the FBI agents leaving to help Micah. He turned back to Jenkins, who was still clutching his busted hand, and cracked him hard in the temple with the barrel of his gun. “Not sorry,” he muttered, then we were scrambling out the door as Avery Brumfield's shouts filled the air.

  “FBI!” Brumfield yelled. “Everyone get down!”

  A single gunshot pierced the air. From inside the van, I couldn't tell which side fired.

  My mouth went dry, my stomach dropped, and my heart felt like someone had just mainlined meth into me. Please God, I think, don't let it be Micah. Don't let it be Micah!

  “Gun gun gun!” shouted Avery's partner. The pop-pop-pop-pop of 9mm peppered through the area, the report of the gunshots echoing throughout the concrete structure.

  I flew out of the security van, my eyes searching for my man. I saw him, just beyond Avery, Gov, and the other agent. He was leaning back against the trunk of one of the parked cars, staying low and out of the way of any crossfire.

  Beyond him, I saw Efraim, his hands in the air. If I'd had a gun just then, I don't know what I would have done.

  I ran forward in a crouch, my body as small as I could make it, as one of The Bear's bodyguards dropped to the ground, a pistol tumbling from his slack hand to the parking garage floor. The other bodyguard was smart enough to put his hands in the air, avoiding the same fate as his buddy.

  Efraim dropped to his knees, his face serene like this kind of thing happened to him every day. He put both hands behind his head, a wide grin spreading on his face as the FBI agents approached.

  “Micah!” I yelled, running forward.

  “So nice of you to join us, agents,” Efraim said in his thick Russian accent. “I'd like to speak to my lawyer,” he added without missing a beat.

  His smile widened as they yanked him to his feet and put his hands behind his back so they could cuff him. “You know,” he said, “my men were just responding to the threat.”

  Micah winced as I slammed into him. “Are you hurt?” I asked. “Did they get you?”

  “Yeah,” Avery said. “Sure, they were.” She began reading him his rights.

  “Nothing you can throw against me will stick,” Efraim continued, his eyes set on me and Micah. “You have no concrete evidence against me.”

  “Really?” Micah asked. “Nothing concrete?” He tore open his shirt, showing Efraim the wire he'd been wearing.

  “Babe?” I asked, looking down at Micah's chest, and the red, sucking wound in his side. I tried to push him down by the shoulders, but he wouldn't budge. He just kept grinning at Efraim, savoring his victory, even as I watched his eyes begin to waiver and skin begin to grow paler. “Babe, you need to lay down or something.”

  Micah turned back to me, the grin on his lips fading. “Told you we'd get the fucker,” he whispered before sliding down the back of the car till he was sitting on the bumper.

  “Micah? Babe?” I tried to catch him, to keep him supported, but he slipped off the rear bumper of the car and landed on the concrete as his eyes rolled back in his head.

  “Gov!” I screamed, shaking Micah. I turned back to the agents who were busy reading the Bear his rights. “Avery! We need a fucking ambulance!”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Micah

  Coming to in the hospital was like reaching the surface after being lost in a pitch black ocean and finally figuring out which way was up. One moment you're surrounded by brackish nothingness, an unending infinity of cool shadows, and the next you're bursting through, and sucking in great big lungfuls of air.

  My eyes fluttered open and tried to take in the surroundings, even through my stupor.

  “Micah?” a voice asked. “You awake, babe?”

  “I'll go let them know,” I heard another voice say.

  “Drink . . .” I whispered, my throat harsh and dry, as I looked around.

  Then, I saw her. Kaci. My north star, my guiding light. The woman I'd killed for, the woman I'd taken a bullet over. And I didn't regret it for one moment.

  Not feeling anything didn't hurt, either. Pain meds in the hospital are good shit.

  She offered me the straw from a glass of water. I drank, already feeling more refreshed. I coughed a little when she took the water away, clearing my throat. “We get him?” I asked.

  She reached down and grabbed my hand. “Yeah, we got him,” she said with a grin on her l
ips as a doctor and some nurses came in to check up on me. “See you soon, okay?”

  I nodded and she disappeared outside to join Gov in the hallway as the doctors and nurses worked me over. Turns out I'd been unconscious since the day before. They were soon done, though, and they let Kaci come back in for a moment, with the doctorly advice of “let him get some rest.”

  Kaci was still smiling from ear to ear as she shut the door behind her and came to my bedside. She wore a conservative top, more conservative than I'd been used to, at least, and a mid-thigh skirt with a floral print that matched the rest of her outfit. “You gave me a scare. Me and Gov,” she said as she climbed partially onto the bed with me, showing a little bit of leg.

  And, Christ, what legs. A whole day asleep was apparently getting me excited. I smiled, already feeling better. “Didn't think I'd pull through, huh?”

  She laughed. “Just . . . just don't do that again, okay?”

  “Square off with a Russian mob boss while I'm completely unarmed, you mean?”

  “Yeah,” she replied, brushing my hair off my forehead and touching my cheek, “that.”

  “You're no fun,” I said.

  “No fun, huh?” she asked before leaning down to kiss me.

  Her lips were like ambrosia as they touched mine. Sweet, beautiful, soft, wonderful as she groaned into my mouth.

  “I thought I lost you,” she said as she broke our kiss.

  “Lose me?” I asked, reaching out for her and pulling her up onto the bed. I felt weak, but not entirely helpless. “I was right where you left me.”

  She tried to slap my hands away. “Doctors say you need to rest,” she said, giggling as I put my hand on her thigh. I noticed she didn't slap that hand away, though. Instead, she just spread her legs a little farther.

  “I feel great,” I said as I pulled her on top of me, my hand still on her thigh, and climbing. “They've got me on a morphine drip.”

  “Goddamn you, Micah Marlow,” she said, her exasperation turning into tantalization as my hand slid higher and found the front of her panties. She sucked in a breath as my fingers began to tease her, leaned down and kissed me again.

  We broke our kiss. “How about, instead of damning me, you just remind me why it's so wonderful to be alive?”

  Kaci giggled. “Fine,” she agreed, and kissed me again. I moved my hand around, grabbed her panties' waistband and pulled them down her slim, shapely legs. “I can't believe we're doing this,” she whispered as we tossed her underwear aside and went back to kissing as my hand slipped back up between her thighs and found her sex.

  Whether she believed it, or not, my fingers could tell she was at least excited by it!

  She threw a leg over me and straddled my waist. Her hair fell like a curtain around my head as we continued to make out, my hands running up and down her back, pulling her skirt up in back.

  She reached down between us, got my gown out the way. She wrapped her hand around my already excited cock. “Don't go too crazy,” she whispered with a smile as she began to stroke me. “I don't want to pull out your stitches.”

  “Only bitches need stitches,” I said, grinning with a little help from the pain medication.

  With my gown out of the way, she lowered herself down my body. She redirected my manhood, parted her lips with my head.

  I groaned, the pleasure already adding to the meds. My eyes rolled back a little from the intensity of it. “Fuck, Kaci, just put me inside you.”

  She pressed her lips to mine again as she lowered herself back onto my cock, consuming me with her hungry lips.

  It was like a little piece of heaven as she slipped over me like the purest sex ever. I tried to move my hips, but she put a hand on my chest, making me stop.

  “You try to get all rambunctious, babe,” she whispered with an evil look in her eyes, “and I'll go finish myself off in that chair over there instead. Promise.”

  “Oh,” I groaned as she slid up and down my length. “Would you make me watch?” I asked, images of her playing with herself in the hospital chair flooding my mind.

  “You wouldn't be allowed to touch yourself, either,” she said, kissing me again and pushing her tongue into my mouth.

  I groaned into her mouth, my tongue swirling around hers. I fought and kept my hips perfectly still. She rode me like a champ, soft and slow and smooth, making sure I could savor every nook and cranny of her beautiful pussy.

  Soon, her breath was coming faster, and we had to break our kiss so she could breathe. She worked her hips and legs, fucking herself a little faster on my tool, panting with the pleasure. She let out a loud, low groan as she ground herself on my cock.

  I felt her tighten around me, massaging my length as she shook in my arms.

  I was right behind her. I held her tighter, my arms refusing to release her ever again. I held her in place on my cock, my hips just barely thrusting as I emptied myself into her.

  We kissed again, moaning into each other as our bodies shook in our mutual orgasm.

  “God,” I whispered, “I do love you, Kaci Sizemore.”

  # # #

  Kaci

  “I love you, too, Micah Marlow,” I whispered back before dropping my head on his chest. “Till the stars burn out, and the world is nothing but darkness.”

  “Hey,” her replied before kissing the top of my head, “stop stealing my lines.”

  I grinned, my cheek still pressed to his chest. “Stolen line, or not,” I said with a sigh, “I'm serious.” I pushed myself up a little and got up next to him in the bed. “I'll ride or do whatever crazy shit you got in mind, forever. No matter what.”

  “I think,” he said, one eyebrow raised, “we're gonna keep it to riding from here on out. I'm keeping the bike, but I'm putting the whole MC shit away. Definitely not running guns anymore, that's for damn sure.”

  I reached up, put the back of my hand to his forehead. “You sure you were feeling well enough to screw?” I asked in a mocking tone. “Or is that just the meds talking?”

  He laughed and batted my hand away. “Nah,” he said, “I'm serious, Kaci. I wouldn't mind having a life where I don't get shot at, or have to worry about my friends getting murdered. First thing I need to do, though, is find some woman to make me an honest man.” He gathered up my left hand in his, squeezed it.

  I couldn't help but widen my eyes in surprise at his words. My heart jumped like I'd stuck a fork in an electric socket. Was he . . . was he really asking me?

  “So, how about it?” he asked, bringing my ring finger up to his lips and kissing it softly. “Will you marry me, Kaci Sizemore?”

  “Y-yes! Of course I will!”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Kaci

  Like most little girls, I daydreamed about what my perfect wedding would look like. I'd be dressed in white, it'd be in the little church mom dragged us to on Christmas, and all my family would be there. My bridesmaids would all be wearing light pink dresses, because I loved pink back then. The flowers would be everywhere, so thick and full in their bouquets that you'd think we were in an arboretum with how strongly the place smelled. The minister would perform our wedding, his voice perfect, his readings on point.

  My man would be handsome, and tough, good with his hands, and a good kisser. Definitely a good kisser.

  At least, I got the prediction on my beau right!

  Together, Micah and I stood in our leathers on the balcony overlooking the barroom at Club Hades, the same landing where he and Grin had staged the coup six months before. Holding each other’s hands tightly, we stood in front of Grin, who was more proud than anyone to be officiating. Apparently, he'd handled all the weddings, and was a minister from some online church. But, hey, at least it was legal!

  Behind me stood Sydney, still my best friend. Behind Micah stood Gov, who'd rejoined God’s Hellfire.

  “Now, all y'all,” Grin called down to the crowd, “the bride and groom have written their own vows, and they'd like to say them to each other now. F
irst, though, y'all got the rings?”

  Kaci and Sydney both stepped forward and handed the rings to Grin. He looked down at them and whistled before holding them up for the crowd to see. “Rings are symbols,” he declared. “Symbols of love, of vows meant never to be broken. They're precious things, made from precious metals stronger than the bones of any man, as strong as the vows we make when we join God’s Hellfire.”

  The crowd murmured its approval.

  “May these rings serve as a physical symbol of their word, of their bond between each other,” he said, handing the rings to each of us.”