Petros (Royal Bastards MC)

by Esther E. Schmidt

  “Did you get it?” I ask, somewhat agitated he didn’t come around sooner and makes me ask in front of her.

  “Yeah, on the bar.” Helix lifts his chin in the direction of the bar. “I double checked it and he did a good fucking job.”

  I place a kiss on Kinsey’s forehead and murmur, “Stay here.”

  I head for the bar and check the contents of the plastic bag. Helix is right, damn fine job. I had a friend of mine create a leg garter along with a forearm throwing knife sheath. Soft, flexible, and fucking perfect for a woman to wear at all times.

  I damn well know she doesn’t need it, but I like the thought of her ability to defend herself and it’s not like she’s carrying weapons on her. Until now because I will make her wear this. Even at the club, I don’t care; she’s going to wear it until this shit with Iron Grims is solved.

  “Oh. My. Gosh,” I hear her voice in gasps coming from beside me. “Gorgeous…wow.” Her hand reaches out and slides over the fabric.

  A growl rumbles deep inside my chest. Fucking hell, this woman. When it comes to her safety or crucial shit, she listens perfectly. But sometimes it’s as if she challenges me at every turn.

  “Ooops.” Her hand leaves the fabric and she dashes to the spot I told her to wait.

  Yeah, like that’s going to work. “Woman,” I growl. “When I get back your ass is going to be sorry.”

  Her face flushes and her eyes hit the floor. I’m pretty sure I hear her mutter “Or not.”

  Devilish I tell you. It’s the whole reason she likes to challenge me when possible to rouse punishment. My hand smacking her lush ass or a flat hand against her drenched pussy. Yeah, we sure know how to enjoy ourselves.

  Though there have been nights where we both are content by the mere company of one another. A movie, light discussions or even shit happening in the future. I mentioned it before, it’s as if we’re already in a solid connection, chest warming, routine, some sort of relationship, whatever.

  Fuck. My throat clogs up and I need to get shit over with. Timing is everything and we caught onto a routine where Boone and a few of his buddies head for the whorehouse to check on things. We have to head out before Boone leaves his clubhouse or we’ll miss him.

  “You’ve seen them already, now put ‘em on. I had them made special for you ‘cause I measured your forearm and thigh when you were asleep last week. Both should fit like a glove. Go get those new knives we bought you to practice with here,” I tell her, and she rips the stuff from my hands and dashes away.

  Before she’s out of sight she spins on her heels, runs right at me and crashes her mouth against mine. “Thank you,” she breathes. “Best gift ever.”

  You know the feeling when your whole heart squeezes while your chest warms and your cock twitches, and shit? It’s what she does to me; she yanks on my every emotion. Not to mention she’s accepted by the whole club. She even introduced knife throwing as a regular thing every Friday.

  Something she usually did with her friend who’s staying in Alaska. I make a mental note to ask BP if Kinsey’s friend Cassie is still all good. We did get an update a few weeks ago, he literally told me “Rain’s chasing her around like some moose calf tryin’ to keep up with his momma. The motherfucker is infatuated.” From what I heard; Rain isn’t one to mess with. Even Kinsey couldn’t hide the wide grin about her friend being under the watchful eye of one of the Royal Bastards members of our Alaska Chapter.

  Another thing she gives me; her absolute trust. It’s a quality that’s very hard to find, as is loyalty and dedication. From the day I took her, I’ve come to know her full force and on high speed. I damn well know I eventually have to step up and claim her because a future without her in it is not something to look forward to.

  First things first, though; save her sisters. And retaliation. I want Boone’s head on a platter. Both are equally crucial in my eyes. Before I can even start to think of a future together with this woman.

  Kinsey comes strolling back into the room after putting on the straps and adding the knives to them. She’s holding the extra set of knives we bought, and I know she brought them to challenge Helix in a little game to pass the time.

  The main room in the clubhouse is crowded. We’ve divided all the members into two teams. One will hit the Iron Grims’ clubhouse; me and half of my guys. And instead of my VP leading the other team, it’s Gin, our enforcer, who will handle the whorehouse and hopefully return with Kinsey’s sisters.

  I, on the other hand, won’t rest until Boone’s blood is coating my hands. I’m way beyond negotiation or fucking compromise; he needs to die. Maybe I’ll go on a killing spree and wipe out his whole fucking club but keep Boone alive to take him with me. Then I’ll have all the time I want to torture the fucker. Taz needs to be avenged.

  The whole Alvin debt isn’t the issue at hand anymore. We’ve brought it to the table and it was a unanimous vote. None of this will bounce back on Kinsey or her sisters. We’re going to make sure to get them out of the hands of Iron Grims MC and then they’re free to live their life without having to glance over their shoulder.

  “Oh, come on. You’re gonna kick my ass? I’m already a damn pussy for staying behind with you and two prospects,” Helix groans and I’m fighting a damn smile.

  I can tell by his voice he isn’t as annoyed as he’s making it out to be. Kinsey has earned the respect of all of them when she threw a knife into a fucker’s throat to prevent me from getting shot in the back. Probably the reason why Helix didn’t really put up a fight when I wanted him to stay here for her, just in case shit goes wrong.

  If we hit both places at the same time it should go flawlessly, but if one slips by us and heads back here…fuck. I don’t want to think what would happen if no one would be there to protect her. At least now there will be two prospects, one out front, one in the back, and Helix in the same room with her.

  I lean in one more time to take her mouth. “Gotta go, be right back.”

  “You better be,” she grumbles.

  No drama, no nagging, nothing other than the casual demand for me to return. She knows exactly what I’m going to do when I walk out this door. I can tell by the look in her eyes she’s worried, but still she acts strong. Another thing to add to the long list of why she’s the perfect woman for me.

  “When I get back you and I are going to have a talk,” I tell her, admitting to myself I would be a damn idiot to let this woman slip through my fingers if I don’t stand up for what I want.

  “Oooookay,” she slowly drags the word out. “Is this about the deal we have about not going anywhere when this is handled? Because I already agreed on it.”

  “Somethin’ different,” I tell her.

  Very different. Not a casual fuck or a nameless connection between us. She’s going to carry the fucking title; Old Lady. The President’s Old Lady. One hell of a responsibility and not many women could stand up to the challenge and life but she…she damn well can.

  Her forehead scrunches up adorably but I place a kiss there and meet the eyes of my VP. “Keep her safe.”

  “With my life, brother,” he vows.

  I give the final instructions when we’re outside. We split up and hit the road. It’s the middle of the night—nothing but darkness and silence outside. We leave our bikes behind a shed a few miles from the Iron Grims clubhouse. Their clubhouse seems quiet and there aren’t many bikes parked out front. I assess every single one but can’t make out Boone’s bike. I reach for my phone and call Gin.

  “You there yet?” I ask.

  His voice is a mere whisper when he replies, “Yeah, about to go inside, Prez. Seems like there are at least eight Iron Grims assholes inside, but we got this.”

  “Boone there?” My gut tightens as I wait for his answer.

  “Didn’t recognize his bike, so that’s a no.”

  Fuck.

  “He’s not here either,” I growl.

  I hear a string of muttered curses flowing from his mouth. “Call
Helix, let him know the fucker isn’t at both locations. If we hit at the same time someone can still call it in. Get me?”

  “On it,” I snap. “And Gin? …End all fuckers wearing an Iron Grims MC cut. Two minutes and counting.”

  “Will do, Prez.” Gin disconnects and I hit Helix’s name.

  The call goes straight to voicemail. Dammit. I repeat the action three more times but the clock is ticking. Gin is about to head in and so should I. Taking a deep breath, I tuck my phone away and palm both my guns. Showtime.

  Blake kicks in the door and allows me to go in first. All of us are wearing bulletproof vests and luckily those Iron Grims assholes aren’t. A few squeezes of my finger allows me to take out the two who were running toward me. Assessing my surroundings, I count twelve in this room.

  Two of my guys head for the hallway, kicking in doors as they go. Blake is punching one asshole and turns around to fire his gun at another. I manage to kill one more with a bullet right between the eyes while my men take over the room. The punch to my face comes as a fucking surprise and I lose grip of my gun.

  Good thing I’ve got my knives strapped to my thighs and in one swoop I nail the asshole straight in the chest. He sinks down to his knees but the huge smile on his face makes fear spike my veins.

  “What the fuck are you smiling about?” I plant my foot on his shoulder and kick him back, making him fall backwards onto the floor.

  I pick up my gun and notice all my guys are still standing. Some hurt with blood pouring down their faces, fists, arms, whatever, but we’re whole.

  I take aim between his eyes. “Where’s your Prez? Your VP? Where are they?”

  The fucker keeps smiling bright, even if blood is starting to seep from the knife wound in his chest. “You just missed them. They were headed your way to demand a meeting. I guess they won’t be wasting any words now.”

  He holds up his phone, showing a text he sent to Boone. He warned him about us hitting their clubhouse.

  No.

  Fuck, no.

  I might as well be the one with the knife in my chest because the words I just read are ripping through me. I fire my gun and hit the fucker right between the eyes. Glancing around one more time, I stalk to Blake. “We need to head back now. Boone was heading our way and that fucker sent him a text. He knows we just hit their clubhouse.”

  “Fuck,” Blake growls. “Everyone, out, now.” He smacks my shoulder. “Full speed, brother. I’ll text Gin so he knows to head back asap too.”

  I barely manage a nod and jog off to head for my bike, hoping to fuck Boone hasn’t arrived yet. We have a strong gate around our compound but anything is possible. And that any-fucking-thing is possible is what’s keeping my heart beating because the mere thought of Boone getting near Kinsey rips my chest right open.

  Chapter Twelve

  ***Kinsey***

  “What was that?” I question and raise my eyebrow at Helix.

  His head turns to the little TV above the bar where the feed shows from the security cam locked on the gate to see who’s coming.

  “Motherfucker. Stay here,” Helix snaps and palms his gun.

  I rush after him and glance one more time at the TV. Oh, shit. “Is that…that’s Boone, right?”

  “Yeah, and his VP and two other Iron Grims members.” Helix reaches under the bar and pulls out two guns. He’s already carrying one but puts another in the back of his pants before holding one out for me to take.

  “I never…I can’t…” Helix doesn’t seem fazed by my stutters but shoves the gun into my hands. “Dammit, okay. How do I do this?” I squeak and wrap the fingers of my right hand around the gun.

  Helix takes it back and does some kind of trick where he pulls the top back and forth—whatever it is he does but it makes a sound, flips a switch—and shoves it back in my hands. Adrenaline is spiking my veins. One more glance at the TV makes me feel as if I’m right in the middle of some sort of biker TV series.

  “They’re…they’re climbing over the freaking fence, Helix! What do we do? What…do we need to call Petros? He needs to come back…oh, shit.”

  “Can’t call him, doll face. We could very well put him at risk when we do,” Helix replies.

  Gunshots blast through the air. A window shatters and Helix takes me down behind the bar with him.

  “West and Dewey are outside, one in the front, one in the back. They’ll hold them off. Now you point and shoot at any fucking person not wearing a Royal Bastards cut, you hear me? Do not fucking hesitate. Point and fucking shoot. Clear?”

  I nod mindlessly at Helix’s words, trying to grasp every inch of sanity to keep from freaking the hell out.

  There’s pounding on the door. Maybe they’re kicking…yeah, they’re kicking in the door all right. Loud cracks and a bang let me know they’re inside. I hate this. I hate being scared and not knowing what to do or how this will end.

  I want Petros. It sounds petty, girly, whatever…but I want him. In this moment he’s the one person in this world who means the most to me. Not to mention I feel safe when he’s around. He’s no hero and yet he is…my hero, the one who faces things head on and without hesitation or fear. Why isn’t he here, and why didn’t I go with him? Dammit.

  “I’m so going to kick his ass when we get out of this safe and in one piece,” I growl to myself in anger.

  Helix shoots me a grin. Okay, that’s something. I guess having him as a buddy in this screwed-up situation is better than nothing, right?

  “Anyone hiding in here better come the fuck out. If not, we’re going to shoot you point blank without any fucking questions. So, you’d do good to surrender and have a chance to live through this,” Boone’s voice booms through the room.

  Helix slowly shakes his head. Right. As if I would be a damn idiot to stand up and wave all girly to let the person responsible for my mother’s death take me to be one of his whores. Or kill me on sight, whatever his plan is. I’m not buying the whole surrender and live shit he’s blabbering. I’m dead-freaking-set on being no part of dying or letting this fucker take me; I need to kick Petros’ ass when he gets back so I’m staying right here.

  We’re blocked from Boone’s view, but through the crack at the side of the bar I can see Dewey slowly making his way through the hallway, weapon drawn. I wish I can close my eyes and make all of it go away. This won’t end well; I just know it. Three gunshots ring out, echoing in my ears and on repeat louder in my mind.

  “Don’t fuckin’ try anything,” Boone says in Dewey’s direction. “Your buddy outside thought he was smart like you…well, his brain is sprayed all over the damn dirt, so I guess he ain’t as smart as he used to be, huh?”

  No, no, no…West is dead? Bile rises in my throat and I have to take a deep breath and hold it to shove it down. Get a grip, Kinsey, now is not the time to freak out.

  Gunshots ring and glass shatters. I cover my head with my arms at the rain of glass hitting me as Boone and his guys shoot up the bar. I peek from underneath my arms and see Helix aim his gun around the bar as he starts to fire bullets at Boone and the others.

  A grunt rips from him as he falls back. Blood starts to cover his arm. His body jerks as another bullet hits his shoulder. My fingers tighten around the gun and I aim up when I see Boone stalking toward Helix while he shoots him once in each leg.

  “Where’s your fucking Prez? Ain’t here to help you now is he, VP?” Boone sneers.

  I point right at him and squeeze the trigger. The gun goes off but nothing happens to Boone. Dammit, I’m way better with a knife than this bullet firing bullshit piece of a gun. Another squeeze, another bullet missing Boone whose eyes are now set on me.

  He kicks Helix’s hand so the gun he was holding slides away. Another squeeze and finally I manage to hit Boone in the leg. My triumph is short-lived when Boone’s fist connects with my eye. Blinding pain shoots through my head, two breaths later the pain rips through my side when Boone’s boot connects with my body.

  “Fuckin’ bi
tch, you fucking shot me,” Boone seethes and grabs my wrist to twist it painfully, causing me to drop the gun I was still holding. “You’re going to pay for that. I might rip your ass into pieces just for fun. Even if it would take you out of whoring your ass off for a couple of weeks. Would be fucking worth it, you bitch. Won’t do it with my cock, though. I’d fuck you with my gun or a fucking broomstick for that matter.”

  Helix grunts and I can see he’s trying to get up. Tears burn my cheeks and though one eye is very blurry, I can see Helix is dead set on standing up to fight. Shot in both legs, his arm, shoulder, no weapons on him and yet he’s still not giving up.

  “Take him out of his misery, Prez,” a guy standing with his buddy in the middle of the clubhouse says.

  My head spins around to see if Dewey is still in the hallway but it really doesn’t matter. I can’t stand here and do nothing as I watch Boone kill Helix. Even if he’s losing so much blood already.

  Boone laughs at his buddy and raises his arm. My fingers slide to the sheath Petros bought me—the one underneath my sweater—and I grip one of the knives. For me this is a huge difference than firing a gun. Knives I love and they love me in return. The skills I’ve picked up over time have perfected my aim and lucky me…Boone is a nonmoving target.

  One quick movement and a knife is lodged in the side of his neck. Gurgles rip from his throat as both hands start to claw at his neck. Gunshots whoosh through the room again, a hot sting burning my side, my arm…I crumble to the ground and cover my head.

  Shit. I should do something. My arms drop and I quickly glance around. Helix’s gun is near me and I dash forward to grab it. On my hands and knees, I slowly round the bar. Gunfire is still blasting through the air.

  Dammit. Helix is still in plain view for them. My head swings to the left where Boone has crumbled to the ground, his body slack and his eyes facing heaven, but I hope to fuck that man got a one-way ticket to hell.

  I wrap my fingers around Helix’s wrist while my other arm has the gun raised in case they come around the bar. “So sorry,” I whisper and yank on Helix’s arm to pull him behind the bar. The grunts of pain are hurting my heart but we have to do this.