When he’s hidden enough, I crawl back to the spot where I can glance around the bar. Gunshots are still going and I have to wonder how many bullets or guns they have. A quick peek tells me there’s only one guy left. One guy, and Dewey is returning fire.
Okay, I can do this. Or at least draw attention away from Dewey so he can shoot the asshole, right? Dewey must be a better shot than me. He has to be…I swallow hard, take aim, steady the gun with both hands and pull the trigger. Once, twice, click, click, click. Motherfucker.
Seriously? They can shoot bullet after bullet and I can shoot, what? Twice and I’m out of bullets? Unbelievable. I shove the sleeve of my sweater up and grab another knife from the sheath on my forearm. One slow breath out and the knife swings through the air, hitting him in the shoulder.
Figures. Everything goes wrong when it needs to go freaking right for a change. I reach for another knife but there’s none left. I don’t hear any more gunshots but the guy I hit with a knife is stalking my way. I crawl back but hit Boone’s body. The guy is still coming at me and I have to do something.
Frantically scanning my surroundings, I come up empty. Wait. Oh, yuck. No time to think. My fingers wrap around the bloody knife and I yank it out of Boone’s neck. My arm swings back but my wrist is being gripped by a man.
I try to kick and struggle but he’s big, pressing down on me to take me out with his weight. From the corner of my eye I see my knife lodged in his shoulder. I try to maneuver and manage to rip it out and plunge it into the side of his neck.
My arm goes up and down again, sinking deep into his body. Blood is covering me from every angle but I can’t stop plunging the knife. The roaring of bikes rumbles through the air. No…please, don’t let there be more of these assholes. I need to get Helix to a hospital. I need…my arm raises again as I hear footsteps.
A grunt leaves my body as I shove the heavy body off me and I lunge at the figure who runs toward Helix. “Leave him alone,” I seethe and raise my arm, ready to plunge the knife into the body who dares to touch Helix.
A hard grip on my wrist prevents me from lashing out. “It’s me, darlin’, it’s me.”
Petros. He’s here. A sob rips from my lips. The knife I was holding clatters to the floor and I grip his leather cut. “Get Helix to the hospital. Now, dammit. There’s no time to wait for an ambulance. He needs to go now.”
Blake and Petros lift Helix up while the other bikers make room for them. Gin jumps off his bike in the parking lot and runs to the SUV. He opens the door to help get Helix in there. Blake gets in the front while Petros stays in the back. I jump in next to Blake and the car is already moving before I can close the door.
It only takes a few minutes to get to the hospital but to me it seems hours. The clock is ticking and there’s been so much death and bloodshed…my mind can’t process losing so many more. I know…know…Dewey must be dead. West surely is…dammit.
Petros takes me in his arms while we walk into the room they told us to wait in. The both of us are covered in blood and when his arm slides over… “Ouch,” I hiss.
“Dammit, woman. You’re hurt, come on,” Petros growls, scoops me in his arms and stalks to the nurse’s station. “My Old Lady is hurt; she needs a doctor. Now!”
One of the nurses jumps into action while another one calls and points to a room while she gives the nurse running toward us instructions. I guess with all the adrenaline running through me I didn’t realize I was hurt. Two bullets grazed me, but the nurse has to spend most of her time picking glass out of my upper arms, my scalp, and my shoulders.
“I feel like a pincushion thrown off a mountain and run down by a truck,” I complain when we’re finally back in the waiting room.
“The visual fits your statement,” Blake snorts. Pretty sure he does it to lighten the mood. Even more when he adds, “You do make the whole pincushion thing badass and sexy though.”
“Yeah, she does,” Gin states. “I heard she took out at least two on her own, including a fuckin’ Prez.”
“It’s not like I had a choice,” I snap. “And I was kinda motivated because I wanted to still be alive long enough to kick this man’s ass.” I jab a finger in Petros’ side, making him jerk and grunt.
“Take a raincheck, darlin’,” Petros tells me and pulls me close. “Plenty of time and other opportunities to come. First, you need to heal.”
“Helix needs to heal; my injuries are freaking peanuts.” My head swings toward Gin. “And how did you know about the two? You weren’t there and Helix is still in surgery…wait…”
Gin nods. “Dewey is injured but okay. He said you guys never would have made it if it wasn’t for you.”
The compliment makes me feel awkward. “West?” I whisper, needing to know.
Gin gives a rough shake with his head. Dammit. Another life lost.
“My sisters?” I whisper, not sure if I want to hear more bad news, even if I never seen or met them.
“Safe and sound and heading home, darlin’,” Petros tells me and places a kiss on my Band-Aid covered forehead.
“Helix needs to pull through,” I croak.
Another kiss. “We’ll know more soon.”
“I don’t know if I’m strong enough…” I can’t even finish my sentence.
It’s weird how you can connect on such a deep level with people and have them in your life for such a short fragment of time and yet…they’ve become family. Family bonded not by blood, but by mutual respect and loyalty.
“My Old Lady is fucking strong enough,” Petros whispers in my ear.
I hear the words but they don’t settle. Everything is too overwhelming and maybe everything comes crashing down, shock settling in, or the adrenaline high is now completely out of my system but…wait. Old Lady?
“Old Lady?” I squeak.
Petros’ eyes are filled with warmth and adoration as he gives me a blindingly white, full toothy smile and a nod. My head swings around the room because he must be kidding me. He didn’t want an Old Lady. Made sure everyone knew he would never…me? His Old Lady? Gin, Blake, and all the others nod and have a proud look on their faces.
My throat is dry while my cheeks are drowning in tears. I lost my family thanks to my father when he made the whole meaning of the word family shake on its foundation when he ripped it apart with death and destruction.
Yet now? I’m being welcomed into a new family; not by blood but with solid knowledge each and every one of them will show respect and honesty. And even with all the havoc raining down these last few weeks…being with them makes me feel safe. I’m right where I belong.
My mind stumbles to find the right words but I can see the doctor coming into the room and I dash up to stalk toward him. Everyone surrounds the doctor as he starts to explain how Helix is out of surgery. They’ve managed to repair the damage and it’s up to him and time to let his body heal.
I let myself fall into Petros’ arms and sob with relief when the doctor adds how they expect a full recovery. I’m thankful within this moment things are starting to look positive toward a future for all of us.
Six Months Later
“Could you man up and stop limping? I swear if you pull the ol’ ‘I got shot in both legs’ pity card, I will smack you on the back of the head with my knife,” I sigh.
Helix tilts his head. “Smack me with the side of the knife, right? Not the pointy end since I’ve seen you use those fuckers on bodies in ways I hope I never have to witness up close around you…ever again.”
“Shut up and come over here, without limping, and let me kick your ass.” I smirk because I know for certain Helix likes our knife throwing games.
Even if he’s being a grumpy bear about it, he likes how much they help him move his sore body and polish up his knife throwing skills. Not to mention he laughs more when we play, and maybe that’s it. I like hearing his laugh instead of the complaints and pain he went through. It took him weeks and weeks to be able to walk normally. A lot of physical therapy and
mental ass kicking to pull him through, but he did it, and that’s what counts.
Petros is lounging against the bar. They had to replace the whole thing after what happened. Though Helix said we should keep it with all the bullet holes showing but Petros didn’t want the visible reminder. Not to mention he made me learn to shoot a gun starting the next day. He worries too much, yet it shows he cares a lot about me.
He’s changed since I met him and it’s not something he did for me or for someone else. Even if he’s years older than me, I feel as if he’s finally settled down. Blake—who was really drunk at the time—told me how I had such a good influence on his Prez.
Something about placing the cold steel of a knife against Petros’ balls to keep him in line but at the same time made him the raging bull he always was. I snorted my tequila through my nose when Blake shared this little statement. But I guess it’s flattering and weirdly enough very true.
But it’s the same for me. I like to say I’ve changed. Or at least my look on life has changed, and I’ve learned not to take anything for granted. Well, these guys I do because even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t be able to get rid of them. But in all seriousness? I’d never want to.
Believe me, when your mother has been killed because of your father? A father who kept a secret double life and dumped you the first chance he got after my mom was stolen of her last breath? Yeah. Not to mention another kick in the gut when Gin finally spilled what happened when he freed my sisters from the whorehouse Boone kept them in.
I kept asking about them even if I wasn’t sure if I would want to meet them or if they even wanted to meet me. Turns out…they knew about me their entire lives. They didn’t want to have anything to do with me, and even blamed all of what happened to them on me. Great, huh?
Well, their loss. I’m surrounded by family, enough to have my heart overflowing. My eyes find my Old Man and tingles spread low in my belly. Who would have known I’d end up here…an Old Lady.
“Okay, what are we playing for? And don’t start with reading ten pages from one of those porn books, ‘cause I ain’t doing that shit again,” Helix grumbles.
I can’t help it…I double over while barks of laughter fill the air around me. Helix isn’t kidding. The last time he lost I had him read a really hot and steamy scene from a book out loud in front of every biker of this Chapter. His whole face was as red as a tomato.
I tap my chin with my finger, trying to make it seem like I’m thinking things through. “How about food? If I win, you make your famous chili, and if I win…I’ll make my famous hot chicken you love so much.”
Helix narrows his eyes. “Why do I get the feeling you’re going to let me win in an effort to make me feel better?”
I snort a very unfeminine sound. “As if I’d ever let you win.”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “True.”
He grabs his knives and I’m glad he’s easily distracted because I fully intend to let him win. I hate how he sometimes feels sad and I know food always cheers him up. But I also want to win really bad, his chili is seriously mouthwatering and the man rarely makes it.
Give and take, knowing you have it all and yet take a step back and enjoy a simple game between friends. Even if he’s being set up because my stomach rumbles at the thought of his chili, but I also want to spoil him with the food he loves when I make it for everyone. It doesn’t matter since I also love my hot chicken and so does everyone else here. It’s a win, win, either way.
Helix indicates I should go first. The knife slips from my finger, flows through the air and impacts perfectly. Shit. I really didn’t think this whole thing through because letting Helix win might be hard since I don’t know how not to aim well. I can’t do the whole slightly off thing because it would be too obvious.
I grab another knife and when I’m about to throw, I can feel Petros stepping in behind me, his breath softly blowing against my ear. A shiver slides through me as I throw the knife, making it impact way off.
“What the hell?” I growl and spin around. “You did that on purpose.”
The annoying man shrugs as if he doesn’t have a clue my aim was off because of him blowing in my freaking ear.
“Kryptonite,” Helix chuckles. “I guess I’m going to win this one after all. I’m enjoying watching you fail and get all angry at Prez. But don’t make her scream so loud tonight when you’re doing the whole makeup sex thing. I want to enjoy the food coma she’s going to put me in with her famous hot chicken.” The idiot rubs his stomach as if I’m already in the kitchen making his food.
“Forget about it, buddy,” I growl and point my knife in his direction. “This means war.” I spin around and face Petros. “And you…go stand over there by the bar and do not move.”
Petros slowly steps back, though his mouth twitches as if he’s fighting to keep his laughter inside.
“Told ya,” Blake quips and raises his beer bottle in the air. “Raging bull, knife underneath the balls and all of that,” he snickers and falls into a fit of laughter.
“Shut up and drink your beer,” the three of us snap at the same time, making him laugh even harder.
“Come on, doll face, are we gonna do this or what?” Helix asks.
“Or what,” I reply, a content smile tugging my lips.
My eyes dance around the room while I breathe it all in. The people, the roof above my head, and the love in my heart. Yeah…family isn’t something you’re born into, it’s what is left around you when the dust settles. The people who will be there to pick you up, nudge your shoulder, hand you a beer or two, or will be there to keep you company when you need time to get back on your feet.
I’ve found my family. A weird one, but no one needs high standards in a world less than perfect, right? Ah, who am I kidding? These guys are perfect…my kind of perfect.
Epilogue
Four Years Later
***Petros***
She curls her arms around my neck and places a very wet kiss on my cheek while Kinsey is glaring at us from across the room. As if I can help it. Kinsey might have a knife underneath my balls to keep me in line but this little girl I’m holding in my arms has me wrapped around her finger.
It’s in her eyes. She looks like a fucking carbon copy of her mother and she inherited the heterochromia from her too, making them enchantingly adorable. By now my whole cheek is covered in drool.
“Okay, Princess, enough with the kisses. It’s not like mom and dad will stay away all day,” I tell her and place her on her feet.
Our daughter, Angelina, is two years old and already such a thief of hearts. She singlehandedly managed to capture the heart of each biker in this MC. Blake strolls into the room, biting down on an apple. He hears his name and turns around. Angelina places one last kiss on her mother’s cheek before her feet pad the floor, a beeline to Blake.
“How’s my favorite royal spawn?” Blake asks and bites down into his apple.
“Such a ladies’ man. You’re lucky this one adoring your ass isn’t pregnant,” Dewey chuckles.
“Shut the fuck up,” I snap. “That shit isn’t funny and don’t ever mention my daughter in any way like that again or I’ll have my Old Lady shove a knife in your ear, understood?”
Ever since an article was published about how Blake turned out to be the last living relative of the recently deceased oil magnate—leaving him with an inheritance worth billions—women have been harassing him. The next day the first woman showed up, claiming to be pregnant. A week later more followed, all wanting a piece of Blake.
“Would you look at that,” Dewey chuckles and points at the screen showing the video feed of the camera locked on the front gate. “We have another winner, a brunette this time with big tits. Bet she’s here claiming to be pregnant with a mini Blake. I mean, really…do these bimbos think you sneezed sperm and infected all women in a three-mile radius?” Dewey laughs at his own joke.
“I haven’t gotten my...” He takes a bite out of his apple and winks a
t Angelina, who in return gazes up at him with fierce adoration. Might be the apple, though...she loves fruit. “Anyway, unless a woman comes strolling up to the gate with a kid around Angelina’s age...I ain’t gonna do another damn paternity test to prove I’m right; there ain’t any kids of mine walking this earth. And yes, in case you’re wondering, Dewey…looking all weird as if you’re eyes are gonna fall out any damn second...it’s been that long since, you know. It’s the exact reason why only my right hand gets action.”
“Ooookay, well, in that case you should check out the brunette with the big tits ‘cause I can tell there’s a kid in the backseat of her car,” Dewey points out as all our eyes go to the screen.
“Motherfu...” Blake swallows his curse and stalks to the door, throwing the apple he was eating in Dewey’s direction.
“Not cool, asshole,” Dewey snaps.
Dewey was patched in almost four years ago. He’s quite the character but he keeps things alive around here, even if some of the guys get annoyed by his weird remarks from time to time.
Blake strolls back into the clubhouse and locks eyes with me. “I need to handle something. Be back late or tomorrow...I...talk later, okay?”
“You need anything, call. If you don’t call or show up here by tomorrow night, I’m hunting you down,” I tell him in an effort to give him some mental support.
His eyes tell me this woman showing up at the gate isn’t some gold digger, but until Blake spills information or reaches out for help...we need to let him deal on his own. He gives me a tight nod, heads for his room and stalks out the door a few minutes later with a duffel bag thrown over his shoulder.
“I wonder what that’s all about,” Kinsey says and wraps her arms around my waist.
“Something he wants to deal with alone first,” I reply, letting my lips touch the top of her head. “You ready to go?”
Petros (Royal Bastards MC) Page 11
