by K. L. Savage
I grab Scarlet and do our best to run out, but the grenade goes off, sending us flying in the air. We land in the dirt outside and she’s clutching her arm, sobbing.
“You okay?” I pick her up, and she throws her arms around me.
“I’m so sorry, Boomer. I’m so sorry. I love you. I love you so much. I wasn’t think—”
I silence her with a passionate kiss, diving my tongue between her lips. That crazy fucking haze in my head lifts, but part of me is more settled than ever. I’ve come to terms with who I am and what I need.
And what I need is this MC life.
“Go with Tool. I’m going to make sure he’s dead,” I tell her. “I love you, Scarlett. Don’t ever fucking do that to me again.”
“Never,” she says quickly.
Tool guides her away to the van that’s nearly full to capacity with people who need medical attention. I turn back to the house and lift myself up like before. The floor is gone, smoke lingers, and when I get to where Venom was, all that’s left are his boots and the smoking aces he thought he had me with.
“Ready to burn this bitch to the ground?” Reaper says, carrying in a few gallons of gasoline. We’re hoping Wolf and the guys who were taken down from the shed know more about this operation. Hopefully, it was only an issue at this chapter, and our job is done.
“Who you talking to, Reap? I was born ready to burn shit.”
Reaper kicks a jug, and it slides over to me. I unscrew the top and start to pour, and the strong fumes make my cock twitch. I bend over and grab the half-fried aces that still have a burning ember to them. I dust them against my pants and keep them as trophies. It’s my biggest accomplishment yet.
“Tongue is piling the bodies and then will burn those. Soon, this place will be nothing but a memory,” Reaper says.
We pour until the jugs are empty, then jump down from the doorstep onto the ground. “Hold on,” I say, running over to Scarlett as she leans against the van while Doc is checking her arm.
“Fucking badass that you popped your bone back in—” I come in on.
“What!” I bark, and Scarlett gives me a half smile.
“I’ll explain later,” she hisses as Doc starts to stitch her up.
“Put that on hold, Doc.” I hold up a matchbook. “Want to do the honors of lighting this place up?”
Scarlett pushes off the van, and Doc stumbles over his words when thread and needle hang from her arm. She takes the matchbook and opens it, pulls the wooden stick with a red head out, and stares at it.
Scarlett lowers the match to her jeans, the quick scratch sounds, and a swaying flame takes the place of the red top. Watching with desire, she flicks it inside the door, and the whoosh of a quick burning blaze spreads, flickering blue, just like Scarlett’s eyes.
She’s the match, the fuse, the gasoline, the kerosene, the bombs, the dynamite, the flame, the heat, and the burn.
Scarlett is by far the biggest boom I will ever experience.
My true clarity.
Epilogue
Boomer
A week later
We hold church in Homer’s office. Doc is still fussing about his bandage, and Homer still slaps his hand away.
“I ain’t no pussy,” Homer states, chest out and proud. “Get your hands off me.”
A few men hide their chuckles behind their hands, camouflaging them with a cough. Kansas, One-eye, and Arrow are in wheelchairs, looking like fucking death with how pale they are. They’re skinny from not being fed, and dehydrated. They have scars on their wrists and ankles from being tied up like a starfish in the shed. When we got to them, they were barely alive, but for some fucking reason, they didn’t want to miss church.
They allowed me to burn their cuts too.
“This Atlantic City chapter has officially been dissolved. It no longer exists,” Reaper says, knocking the stapler on the desk as a makeshift gavel. Everyone hollers and claps, and the girls hug each other and cry, smiling with happy tears. Scarlett mouths, “I love you,” to me, and fuck, if I don’t feel like a new man.
Homer rolls his eyes. “This is church? Hootenanny! Back where I come from that mean praising the Lord.”
“You believe in God, Homer?” Poodle asks, surprised just like the rest of us.
“I said where I come from. I didn’t say I went to fucking church. Open your damn ears,” Homer says.
“Grumpy,” Poodle pouts.
“What’s next?” Kansas’ voice makes everyone quiet down. It’s weak, barely a whisper. “Where do we go?”
“Well, I wanted to talk to you about that, Boomer,” Reaper says, grabbing a few new cuts from the box. “I don’t think you’re meant to come back with us, kid, no matter how much I want you to. I’ve watched you grow into a man while being here. Sure, you broke a few times, but we all do, and now you’re who you need to be. You left to find yourself, and you did just that. You found yourself a new club, one that you can call your own. One that you can lead. You are meant for more than what I can give you.”
He tosses the new cut to me and the patch says, “President” and another says “Boomer.”
“But … how am I going to build a club? What about you all? What about Sarah?”
“I’ve talk to everyone, kid, even Kansas, Arrow, and One-Eye. They all voted on it. You’re the Prez.”
“What? But I don’t think it’s a good idea to bring Ruthless here again, Reaper. The city, the people who owe that club, they’ll never believe we’re the good guys.”
“It’s why I left the back blank. It’s up to you. We can be allies. You’re meant to be here, kid. You’ve done good. Look at all you accomplished. These women, those men, they’re alive and well because of you.”
I look at all of them, nodding to give me reassurance. I stop at Scarlett when I see she has a cut in her hand. I tilt my head to the side in confusion and she lifts it up, showing me the “Property of” patch on it with my name under it.
Fucking hell, is this happening? It’s really fucking happening.
“Your dad would be proud of you, kid. Do you want this?” Reaper asks.
“I… I … don’t have a clubhouse,” I say with a chuckle.
“The fuck you mean?” Homer gripes. “I have this motel. You can turn it into whatever as long as you let me retire and live here.”
“Seriously?” I ask, openmouthed.
“Yeah, I like you lot. Except you.” He points to Tongue. “You creep me the fuck out.”
Tongue lifts his lips in a half smirk but doesn’t say a word.
“What do you say?” Homer repeats.
“I say ‘fuck yeah!’” I shout, and everyone cheers along with me.
“Tonight we celebrate,” Reaper yells. Scarlett saunters over to me, shrugging on her cut.
Fuck, she looks so damn sexy in that.
“You sure you want this?” I ask her.
“I want you. All of you.” She grabs the side of my head, telling me she accepts me for who I am. I told her last night of my intrusive thoughts and how hard it gets to fight them. She held my hand and told me she’d fight them with me, and just knowing she’s there and loves me through it only makes me love her more.
“I can’t wait to fuck you in this cut. And only this cut,” I growl into her ear.
“Oh, you want to go make good of that threat, Jenkins?” she purrs my name into my ear and scratches her nails down me like a cat in fucking heat.
I drag her out of the office and take her to the nearest flat surface to show her just how much I make good on my promises.
I may not be a Ruthless King anymore, but it’s in my blood.
Forever.
Love. Family. Loyalty.
And Boom.
Meet Tool
Being the VP of the Ruthless Kings has made me jaded and scarred, a savage, bloodthirsty beast.
Grit, pain, blood, the three constants in my life.
Love?
I wouldn't burden anyone with loving me.
&n
bsp; I’m a hard man to love.
Until she walks through the garage doors, looking perfect in her little blue dress and high heels.
She’s neat and clean and too damn good for me, but I’m determined to get her filthy.
Then Reaper reminds me of the debt I owe him, and the fine is costly—stay away from the woman whose voice is a song.
Because her father is the sheriff of Vegas, and he fucking hates us.
Come to find out, the sheriff is a bit crooked, which unlocks a whole new set of rules in my playbook.
And I have the right tools to break all of them.
Do I go against my Prez again for my little sparrow? Or do I let her fly away?
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Acknowledgments
Thanks to all the bloggers and reviewers for taking the time to review and share Boomer.
To all of my Ruthless Readers thanks for starting this new journey with me.
Jenifer Briggs your reviews and and comments everywhere are always so full of emotion you can feel them jumping off the screen. I’m honored that my Ruthless Kings do that for you.
Give Me Books thanks for getting my books out there and in front of so many people. Kylie, Jo and Alicia you all truly go above and beyond.
Silla, you remind me to breathe, you always say “you’re gonna be fine, you got this.” And when I’m spreading myself to thin you say “breathe I got this,” and those words right there are worth more than gold! Thanks for being so great.
Kari your designs always leave me in speechless! Your vision for my covers and graphics is always perfect.
Wander, thanks for sharing your talent with the world. I still can’t believe I have your images on my covers.
Andrey, your kindness makes this world a better place. I cringe just thinking of trying to tackle images with out you. Thanks for always being there.
Happy birthday mom!
J.H.O 5 LITTLE WORDS
Lynn- You’re definitely my better half; without you, I’d be lost.
A.S. You are the instigator to my bad decisions. You have been my soundboard, my voice of reason, and yes, my instigator, thanks for always being there.
Harloe, Thanks for being you.
Austin, I’m so blessed to have you both in my life.
Jordan for always getting me and understanding I’m not being antisocial its just one of my quirks. Thanks for letting me camp out in my room.
John Russell cheers to shots of Patron and new beginnings!
K.L. Savage is addicted to rough love, who decided they were tired of looking for the kind of books they wanted to read.
They had an itch that needed to be scratched, and as every girl knows, nothing scratches better than an alpha.
They write about gritty, alpha males, sometimes their dark sides, and the women they love.
If you have the same itch, their alpha males should fix that.
Scan the QR code to visit www.authorklsavage.com or stalk them at the links below.
Also by K.L. Savage
Reaper
Boomer
Tool
