by Jennifer Ann
Barbaric anger shakes me to the core, blurring my vision. An entire year? I should’ve ended that motherfucker’s life when I had a chance. I had a goddamned gun pointed at his head…should’ve done the world a favor and pulled the trigger. Should’ve taken care of her old man too.
“I’ll kill them both with my bare hands,” I sneer, bile burning down the back of my throat.
Andie clenches her teeth. “Neither one of them is worth the time you’d spend behind bars.”
“Wanna make a bet?”
Emerald eyes blazing, she shoves me. Fuckin’ hard. “You think you’re a tough guy because you were in the Marines? Think you could stand up against an entire MC filled with animals, and walk away in one piece?” My dick swells with the elevation of her voice. “You don’t know me—you don’t know shit about where I come from, or what I’ve done. If you’re stupid enough to go up against them, you’ll learn the hard way that saving me isn’t worth putting your life on the line!”
In one step, I close the distance between us, bending until our lips are parallel. Her breath hitches as I hold her glare. Whether or not she’s conscious of the growing attraction between us, her body gravitates toward mine. “Nothing you’ve done could scare me away, lil’ mouse. It’ll be my decision if and when I make that kind of sacrifice.”
“You have no idea what you’re saying.” With one more healthy shove that knocks me back a few feet, she storms off into the hallway.
My heart’s in my damn throat as I watch her stomp away. Finally understand why Ryker and Rook were so determined to keep their women around, at any cost.
Might even finally understand all the bullshit over being in love.
The next night, as Zoe and Brooke work on veggies for dinner in the kitchen, I grill steaks out back while Andie and Charlize play with Linkin nearby. Hard to concentrate much with Andie’s perky tits poking against her thin top. Should’ve told Zoe to buy her a goddamn bra when they went shopping the other day. It’s getting hard as shit not to make a move when everything about Andie’s a walking temptation.
The girls have tried like hell to make her feel comfortable, but she keeps to herself, coming off as timid. By now I know damn well that’s not the case. She thinks she’s imposing by being here. Or maybe she’s convinced herself everyone hates her because we haven’t been able to help Sasha.
Can’t seem to breathe when she comes my way, balancing Rook’s son on her hip like she’s done it all her life. Fuck. For all I know, she’s a mom.
She’s been so damn quiet since our little talk in the studio that I worry there’s more shit going on in her head than she can handle. “You good?” I ask.
“It’s time we do something proactive about Sasha,” she tells me, eyes blazing with determination. “They’re onto her…I just know it. She should’ve found a chance to leave by now. Since I’m the one who got her in this situation, I should be the one to go back—”
“We’ve talked about this,” I grunt. “No way you’re going back there.”
“But I know how to deal with—”
“Not fuckin’ happening!” I roar, whirling around with the grilling spatula raised.
She jerks back, trembling. Linkin starts to wail.
Eyeing her and the baby with a deep sense of regret, I drop the spatula and run my hands over my head. “Fuck…sorry…swear I wasn’t gonna hit you. I’d never…”
Charlize sweeps in beside her to take Linkin. “It’s okay, big guy. He terrifies me sometimes too.” She shoots me a dirty look identical to the one her sister’s always throwing me. “Get your shit together, Stone.”
Once they’re gone, uneasy silence stretches out between me and Andie. Never been good at this kind of thing…especially if I made her cry.
With a deep breath, I turn to assess the damage. Spine straight, chin held high, eyes hard…she’s more determined than hurt, like my anger brought out a darker side. It’s another testament to the shit her old man’s put her through. Another reason I’m out for the old fucker’s blood.
“Sorry I scared you, sweetheart. I would never hit a woman like that. Used to watch my old man beat my mother…swore I’d never be anything like that piece of shit.”
Wanting to offer some kind of comfort that’ll thaw her irritation, I reach around behind her head. She flinches, suddenly rigid. Her eyes strain, wild with fear, until I gently finger the thick waves on the back of her head, working into a light massage against her scalp. Her lips part with a breathy sigh, and her eyes close.
Between the unspoken invitation to continue, and the sweet perfume of cherries, I’m enticed to investigate every last inch of her angel-soft skin. But I’m not the kind of bastard that would take advantage of her in a moment of weakness.
I lean in a little more, lips hovering near her forehead. “Something about you and that shit with your old man drives me outta-my-mind insane.”
“You didn’t scare me—I’m beginning to understand that you wouldn’t ever hurt me.” Her head drops back a little, leaning into my hand. “It’s just…I can’t stop feeling guilty for being here with you when Sasha’s in my place. Bane…the guy she’s with…he’s brutal…even worse than Diesel. The Martyrs…they’re barbaric. I once was forced to watch them chop a man’s arm off for lying to my father. They won’t hold back if they discover Sasha came to the club solely to help me. And she wouldn’t be in that position if it weren’t for me.”
Darkness scrubs my vision. I dig my fingers a little deeper into her angel-soft hair, wishing I could erase all the pain and agony those fuckers caused. There’s only one thing I can do. “I’ll call the guys,” I decide. “You’re right, it’s time we pull her outta there. And when I say we, that doesn’t include you.”
Stunning eyes locked with mine, she leans into me. Her arm rests just inches above my cock, and her tits are like diamonds against my stomach. “You don’t know the layout of the compound, or how the Martyrs think.” She lifts her good hand, spreading her fingers across my pecs. “I have to be there too, Stone. Even if you won’t admit it to yourself, you know it makes sense to bring me along.”
“If Diesel or your old man got their hands on you—”
“You won’t let that happen,” she finishes, lifting her hand to the back of my neck and drawing our foreheads together. “Let me feel something other than helpless for a change.” Her warm, heavy breaths spread across my mouth, destroying the last of my fading control. It’s as close as we’ve been to a kiss, and I’ll be damned if I don’t wanna take what she’s offering. “Please, Stone.”
Balls drawing tight, I grunt out a response. Can hardly think past the fog of need coating my brain. It’d only take a slight slip of my tongue for a taste of those lush lips.
Fuck if I can tell her no. And based on something Rook said the other day, we might be able to use her help.
Morrison’s hazel eyes skip over to where Andie’s chatting it up with Zoe and her best friend, Raven. “I don’t know, man,” he says, shifting his stance. “Things didn’t end so well the last time I was told to watch someone’s girl.”
“Only because Terrance beat your ass here that morning,” I remind him. “You can do this. If the house alarm goes off, you call Ryker. That’s it. Zoe and Charlize both have excellent marksmen skills. That girlfriend of yours is probably a good shot, too.” Slugging his shoulder, I wink. “They’ll keep you safe.”
Raven starts in our direction, eyebrows shooting up to her dark hair. Now that Andie’s around, I’m glad I didn’t give into the temptation of tapping Raven’s hot ass when Zoe started bringing her around. Would’ve created more complications than I could manage.
“Why are my ears ringing?” she purrs.
Morrison wraps an arm around Raven’s waist, drawing her close. “Because you have the hearing of a fuckin’ owl, woman. Stone was just saying if shit goes down while they’re off saving Sasha, he hopes you’re comfortable around guns.”
“Damn straight. Got my conceal and carry right
after Terrance snagged my girl…spent one night every week at the shooting range ever since, perfecting my aim.” She drags a blood-red fingernail across his lips. “Don’t worry your pretty ass, baby. I’ll protect you.”
Chuckling at Morrison’s butt-hurt expression, I leave them behind and start for Andie, nodding when she catches my eye.
Time to break Sasha the hell outta there.
If anyone goes after either her or Andie, it’ll be a blood bath.
6
Andie
Raw nerves form a rock in the pit of my stomach as the van Stone jacked half an hour ago nears the compound. Using his attraction to me the night before was a dirty trick, but he wouldn’t have agreed to let me come along otherwise. He’s become fiercely protective, hardly ever letting me out of his sight.
The temptation to kiss him when he touched me was blinding, despite knowing anything between us wasn’t meant to be. As soon as Sasha’s safe, I need to split and get as far away from my father and the Martyrs of Mayhem as possible—if I’m still alive.
As we inch closer to where my former captors await, I’m suddenly not convinced I have the courage to return. Escaping their torment and finding Stone was the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and it didn’t last anywhere near long enough. Going back to the old ways…having to answer to Diesel’s beck and call…not being allowed to leave the compound again for who knows how many years this time…maybe forever…the idea sends my head spinning.
I’d welcome death before I’d endure that kind of torture again.
“Still time to back out,” Stone offers, gripping the headrest above me. Without needing to hear him say it, I sense that bringing me along is killing him by the constant clench of his jaw.
Aching to feel the comfort of his touch—something I’d never experienced with a man before him—I close my eyes and slide my head a little closer to his fingers. “I have to do this…for her.”
A blissful moment later, his fingers tangle in my hair, their tips once again stroking along the back of my head. Before I can stop it, a blissful sigh shoots from my lips. I wish we were in any other situation, allowing me the freedom to turn and finally discover how his thick lips would feel against mine. I’ve been dreaming about it for days, imagining it’d be nothing like Diesel’s disgusting, whiskey-soaked tongue and clammy lips.
But as always, I’m not afforded those kind of luxuries. We’re about to start a fight with my father, and I’m terrified.
I don’t know the plan beyond the pistol tucked into the back of my new jeans. Though Stone schemed with the guys throughout the past twenty-four hours, he’s remained tight-lipped about their conversation.
“Here we go,” he whispers, his tone uncharacteristically thick.
I open my eyes and sit tall as he kills the van’s headlights. Vomit thickens at the base of my throat with the sight of the 12 foot gates that held me captive for too long, the area surrounding them lit brighter than a football field. We already knew we’d have to take the front entrance as Rook told us the hole in the fence had been repaired. But I wasn’t expecting three times as many guards than usual to be standing watch.
My father’s blood pressure must’ve skyrocketed the second he realized I’d gone missing. Maybe fate will intervene, and give him a heart attack.
Remembering what Stone had said about not shedding a tear if his parents died, I shiver. So far, I’m one-for-one. The only tears shed at that funeral were for my sweet little brother, and not the cold-hearted bitch in the casket at his side. I wanted to torch the church to the ground when I first learned of my father’s request to have them buried together.
Stone’s deep timber cuts through my thoughts. “Whatever happens, know you were right about what you said last night—I won’t let them get their hands on you for anything.”
I turn to him the exact same moment he pushes the muzzle of his Beretta against my temple. The sharp gasp in my chest dies in my throat with the slight shake of his head. His eyes flicker down to the pistol he gave me just as a guard approaches my side of the car. My surprised reaction comes off as genuine, probably exactly the way Stone had intended. It’s probably the reason he decided not to fill me in on their plan.
At least I’m hoping.
I don’t recognize the middle-aged man with olive skin and long greasy hair when he bends at my side, probably because he’s wearing a different MC’s patch. It’s not an encouraging sign—my father already called for reinforcements. There could be hundreds of bikers inside.
“Put your hands up where I can see them, and don’t cause a scene,” Stone warns the man, his voice cold and impassive.
The man lifts his hands as told, scowling. “What the fuck is this? Wait…do I know you?”
“No, you don’t,” Stone snarls back. “This is only going down one way, asshole, so listen up.” All at once, he fists the hair on the back of my head in a painful clench. A part of me hates him for doing it, but I’m quick to remind myself he’s going for the shock factor. “Let the president know I have his whore daughter. If anyone shoots at me, I pull the trigger. If anyone other than you approaches this car, I pull the trigger. If anyone so much as breathes in the wrong fuckin’ direction, I’ll stick a bullet in her head. I’ll release her back to him in one piece only if he sends Sasha out, unharmed, and alone.”
“Candi,” I whimper through the pain spreading over my scalp. “He means Candi.”
“Yeah, Candi,” Stone quickly recovers. “Be sure to let Ajax know if he tries anything stupid, my associates—Terrance Fisher’s men—will blow this place sky-high with enough C-4 to make this entire compound nothing more than a prairie. You feel me?”
So that’s how they’ve decide to play this out—putting blame on the man who wronged Ryker’s family. Hopefully their plan works, and my father will go after his nemesis. I just hope Stone isn’t bluffing about the explosives, because he may be forced to make good on the threat once Sasha’s free and he doesn’t release me as promised.
The man’s lips clench as he slowly reaches for his pocket. “I’m grabbing my phone.”
“Nice and easy now,” Stone encourages, nodding. He tugs on my hair until I cry out. “You wouldn’t want to be the one responsible for killing the president’s only daughter.”
The man side-eyes Stone as if he’s trying to place him. Part of me wants to chew Stone a new one for not wearing the mask from the night he came to my rescue. If anyone on the compound is somehow able to identify him…I shiver with the consequences.
After a few taps on his phone’s screen, the man speaks in rapid Spanish.
“My father doesn’t speak Spanish,” I tell Stone with real tears spilling down my cheeks. There are far too many ways this could end badly—too many of them involving Stone dying. Sasha too.
Stone points his gun in the man’s direction. “¡Inglés, compadre!”
“They’re sending her,” the man snarls, his free hand held up. “Don’t shoot!”
The gun returns to my temple. “Lace your hands behind your head. Don’t move unless I say.”
It’s not the first time there’s been a gun held against my head, but it’s the first time I have total trust in the man with his finger on the trigger. It’s the first time I haven’t braced myself for death to come, willing it to take me to somewhere better.
Tension builds as we sit in silence, intently watching the long driveway leading to the compound for any kind of movement. If Sasha was somewhere on the far end of the compound, it’d take less than ten minutes for her to arrive on foot. Although every moment feels like an entire lifetime, I’ve counted at least six muted songs that have flashed across the van’s radio display since the call was made.
“It shouldn’t take this long,” I whisper. “They’re stalling.”
“What’s the hold-up?” Stone shouts over me. “My associates’ trigger fingers are getting real tired.”
“There she is!” I cry out, pointing to a small figure that emerges from th
e darkness. Stopping to clear the tears thickening my throat, I turn to Stone and smile. “She’s coming!”
“Still have a long ways to go before we’re safe, lil’ mouse,” he mutters, eyes narrowed on Sasha.
Her brisk steps hit the pavement in sync with the firm drumming of my heartbeat against my ribcage that shakes my entire body. She’s so close, yet still so far away. I’ll be at peace with whatever happens next as long as they both escape unscathed. As for myself…it’s up to fate to decide.
Shadows stir in the darkness behind her.
I grasp Stone’s knee. “She’s not alone.”
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he coos, only briefly glancing in my direction. “This ain’t my first rodeo.”
Once Sasha’s within a few yards of the van, close enough to read her distressed expression, my heart slams to a stop. “Stone…” I hiss, dragging my hand further up his leg.
My fingers dig into the denim covering his wide thigh as my friend staggers toward us as if on broken heels, appearing as limp as a rag-doll. A set of handcuffs dangles from one wrist. Her shirt’s ripped down the center, exposing a red lace bra. Dark bruises and fresh blood line her throat, and her lower lip’s split in two. Her impossibly big brown eyes lock with mine, one nearly completely swelled shut and wet with tears. Ever so slowly, she begins to shake her head.
My lungs collapse with a great whoosh. Oh god…what did they do to her? Why is she shaking her head?
Stone growls in a feral sound of anger mixed with pain. “Open the fuckin’ door.”
Unsure if he’s directing the command at me or the guard, I pull the lever on my door and scoot in closer to the wall of muscle and burning rage at my side.
