by Jennifer Ann
“Cops are here!” someone calls from the other end of the alley.
“About damn time,” the medic says.
Commotion ensues with the arrival of the police. As we watch them help the medic and his buddy detain Diesel, Stone continues kissing my face. “Everything’s going to be okay, lil’ mouse.”
They lead Diesel past us, hands cuffed behind his back. His eyes lock with Stone’s, and he sneers, “You’re a dead man.”
My stomach drops. Stone grips me a little tighter like a child with a stuffed animal.
One of the male officers approaches us, gloved hand outstretched in a peaceful gesture. “The two of you okay? We were told you were both victim’s of this man’s attack.”
“Did you hear what he said?” I ask, my voice pinched tight. “He threatened to kill my boyfriend!”
The redheaded man nods. “It’s okay. You’re safe now.”
“We’ll never be safe!” I insist, shaking my head. “He’ll keep coming after us until we’re both dead!” I begin to vibrate with rage, knowing Diesel won’t be held for long before my father bails him out. “How long until he’s released, and comes after us again?”
“Ma’am, please calm down, and let me check your injuries. The ambulance is right behind us—they should be here any minute.”
Stone reels me back around, taking my face in his hands. “Breathe, sweetheart. I won’t let that son of a bitch get to you a second time.” He kisses me before he leans in, pressing his lips against my ear. “I’m going to take care of him once and for all. You’re safe with me—I won’t let you outta my sight.”
Silent tears roll down my face as I square my shoulders, and prepare to answer the questions hurled at us. Stone may think he’s being valiant, but it irritates me to know he’ll put himself in that kind of danger again. I’ll do whatever it takes to stop Diesel before I let him lay another hand on my man.
11
Stone
With Andie settled in the same guest room where we’d slept the night before, Sasha keeping watch at her side, I fill everyone in on the events of the day. Colt and his wife, along with my crew, gather out on their deck overlooking the ocean as the sun’s setting on one of the worst days of my life. I’m too fuckin’ fired up to handle the way they’re all giving me these sympathetic looks from chairs, or where they lean against the railing. My goddamned life flashed before my eyes when I thought that bastard was going to kill my girl. And I’ve never felt so damn helpless as when he was ready to kill me too. My arm still throbs from getting slammed into the brick wall while fighting Diesel, but I’m not gonna waste time at some damn hospital.
“That asshole will probably get out on bail,” I say once they’re up to speed. “This shit with him is far from over.” And I won’t sleep until I know he’s physically unable to hurt her—whether because he’s in jail, or because he’s dead.
Ryker smoothes a hand over his head, then back around to his beard while watching me thoughtfully. Pretty sure he’s readin’ my thoughts, knowing exactly where I stand on the matter. “We have even bigger problems now that the Martyrs know we’re in town. They might change their mind about ambushing the deal tomorrow.”
I shake my head. “Not necessarily. Andie asked Diesel if her father knew he’d found her, but the son of a bitch wouldn’t answer. There’s a chance he’s gone so far off the deep end that he didn’t let them know that he was comin’ out.”
“But what if he did?” Ryker argues. “They could be getting ready to catch us off guard the same way he caught Andie.”
“Only now we know to be on the lookout.” Colt clamps a hand down on my shoulder. “One thing’s for damn sure—we won’t let this Diesel prick get to your old lady once he’s out. Let me make some calls. I’ll have one of my brothers keep an eye on the jail, and check in with Fisher to make sure we’re set for tomorrow. Best thing we can do is stick to the plan, and hope it still plays out.” He glances around the circle of musicians and bikers, sighing. “I’m sure this goes without sayin’, but no one leaves here again until the deal goes down tomorrow. Like Ryker said, the Martyrs might be out there, waitin’ for another chance to jump us. Don’t want anyone else gettin’ hurt on my watch.”
He slips into the house, and Ryker steps in at my side. “You should at least wrap that arm up until this is over, and we can get you in to see a doc. You won’t be worth a shit if one of them decides to come here to attack the girls.”
“I’m going along when the deal goes down,” I say, jutting my jaw while holding my arm against my chest. “I wanna be there when her old man’s brought down.”
“What about Andie?” he asks with a snarl. “You’re just gonna leave her and Sasha alone to fend for themselves?”
I shake my head. “She’ll insist on coming along too. Probably best if we’re all together anyway.”
“He’s right—we all know Sasha won’t sit around either,” Rook adds with a snigger.
“Your women seem like they can handle themselves if they come along,” Harley says, crossing her arms. “You won’t hear any objections from me. Always helps to have more bodies on our side.” Her eyes dart to mine. “What do you say we grill some pizzas and crack open a bottle of whiskey? You look like you could use a stiff drink.”
My stomach growls angrily, reminding me I’d abandoned the fish tacos once I discovered Diesel attacking Andie. With anger still crackling through my chest, I merely nod.
I’m good and tipsy by the time I slip into bed beside Andie, and twist my arms around her waist. She hums softly and wraps her arms over mine. “What time is it?”
“Late,” I grunt out, not really having any clue. We’d polished off a new bottle of whiskey before switching to lager over talk of different ways we need to prepare for Terrance’s attack if things play out as planned. “Go back to sleep, lil’ mouse. You’re safe.”
She twists around in my arms to face me, stroking my face with her soft fingertips. The whites of her eyes and teeth are barely visible in the dark. “I know you want me to stay here tomorrow, but—”
“It’s already been decided that we’re all goin’.” I bend down, touching my lips to her forehead, and close my eyes. “Gotta promise me that you won’t do anything stupid. When Diesel was attackin’ you tonight…it was too fuckin’ much. It almost broke me. I can’t go through that again.”
“That’s exactly how I felt when he was ready to plunge that knife into your chest, so I’m going to need you to make the same promise.” Her pointer finger nudges my chin down until I’m looking in her eyes again. “The first time you saved me from Diesel, I knew our paths had crossed for a reason. Especially when you removed that ski mask, and I realized you were the same man I fantasized about as a kid. Both times you were so brave and severe that it took my breath away. I knew you weren’t like any other man I’d met. We’ve both been through some dark shit in the short time we’ve been on this earth, and I truly believe we needed to find each other before we could begin to heal. I never thought my heart would ever allow me to love someone unconditionally after my little brother was torn from my life, but you’ve proved me wrong. I only hope you can understand my past, because I couldn’t handle it if you left me now.”
“Tell me what it is, sweetheart.” I pull her hand from my chest up to my lips. “I know it's been bothering you, and you’re afraid of how I’ll react, but I’ve seen enough good in you to know you’ve only done whatever necessary to survive the shit-storm life has dragged you through.”
Her eyes glisten with tears as she clears her throat. “When I was eleven, my father had an affair with one of the other old ladies, and got her pregnant. He treated her like it was solely her fault, and locked her up until she had the baby. Then she was banished from the compound, and my father forced my mother to raise my little brother. She hated Oliver from the second he took his first breath. She already despised being a mother. The only thing she ever loved in life was getting high and drunk. I once heard a rumor that she t
ried to get an abortion behind my father’s back when she was first pregnant with me. Once he forbade it, she tried giving herself one with a hanger.”
“Jesus,” I hiss, caressing her smooth back and clenching my jaw.
“For obvious reasons, I was Oliver’s sole caretake—at least whenever I wasn’t at school. I don’t know how I didn’t flunk that year because I couldn’t focus during classes. I was scared to death of what was going on with Oliver when I wasn’t there. I’d come home to find his diaper hadn’t been changed all day, or he’d be screaming because he hadn’t been fed since I left. And there were always bruises on his little body. Even at eleven I knew I should’ve called child services, but I’d heard stories from kids at school about what went on in foster care. I thought Oliver was better off having me part-time than being completely neglected. My father was too busy with club business to notice any of this was happening. I couldn’t tell you which of my parents resented Oliver more. He represented my father’s indiscretions, and all the reasons my mother hated being his old lady. I knew I had to love Oliver even more since his parents never would.” Her voice trembles when she adds, “It wasn’t hard to do. He was a sweet baby. He was almost two, and was thriving by then, saying little sentences, singing his favorite songs while he played, even trying to dress himself.” The whites of her teeth flash with a little smile. “I wish you could’ve met him, Stone. He was a gorgeous little boy. We had the same eyes, but he had strawberry blond hair, and was starting to get lots of freckles on his nose. His giggle was the best sound in the world. By now he would’ve been a handsome teenager, probably full of attitude and braver than anyone you’ve ever met.”
“Just like his sister,” I say, running my thumb along her bottom lip. “Wish I could’a met him too.”
Her gaze darkens. “One day I came home from school—I was in seventh grade by then—and the house was abnormally quiet. I could hear water dripping outside the bathroom—I knew there was something wrong before I opened the door.” She rolls away from me to lie on her back, pressing her fingertips against her eyes. “He was floating in the tub…facedown…she was slumped beside the tub, passed out…lit cigarette in her hand.”
Fuck. My stomach violently clenches as I imagine the kind of sorrow she must’ve felt for the little boy she’d singlehandedly raised. Though I wanna hold her and kiss her until her tears dry, I understand that she needs to tell me her story on her own terms.
“He was so little…so helpless. I didn’t know anything about CPR, but by the blue coloring of his skin, I knew he’d been dead long enough that there was no chance of saving him. She didn’t wake up the entire time I screamed and cried while holding him in my arms. I would bet she was probably both drunk and high. I calmed down a little once I smelled smoke. Her cigarette had dropped into the basket of toilet paper, and started a fire. I was so damn angry at her…she despised Oliver so much that I was sure she let him drown on purpose. There wasn’t a lot of time to think. I knew it wouldn’t be long until the fire spread. I kissed my little brother goodbye and set him back inside the tub.” She turns her head, studying my face when she says, “I wedged a chair against the door from the hallway. Then I ran.”
A ball rises in my throat. The story wasn’t headed for a happy ending, but I hadn’t been expecting that. “Sounds like you did what you had to do.”
“That’s all you have to say?” she whispers, her voice pinched. “I killed my own mother.”
Unable to leave her alone any longer, I slip my arm beneath her waist and bring her close enough to kiss her, long and hard. Her tears taste salty as she quietly cries against my lips. With one hand buried in her thick hair, I lean back to look her in the eye. “Like I said, you did what you had to do. You were young, little mouse. Who the fuck expects someone in junior high to raise a baby? Your parents should’ve done better. If child services had gotten involved, sounds like they would’ve taken you outta there too. You were in survival mode. Someone had hurt the person you loved most in this shitty world. Your old man’s an asshole for not recognizing her abuse. What kills me most is there wasn’t anyone who came to check on you after you were pulled from school, or that no one in your old man’s club stepped up to tell him he was wrong. Every adult in your life failed you, sweetheart. Someone should’ve recognized that you were being neglected.”
She cries a little harder with my words. I bring her back into my arms, holding her as tight as possible without inflicting pain. “The life I’m going to give you will only be filled with happy memories,” I say against her ear. “If you want to start a family, I’ll love our babies with everything I’ve got—the same way I love and adore their beautiful mother. If you want me all to yourself, I’m good with that too. Either way, I plan on doing everything in my power to make up for all those years your dad made you his prisoner—made you believe you were evil or sick. You deserve a good life because you’re a good person, Andie Kennison. Won’t let you believe any different.”
Covering my lips with hers, she crawls on top of me. My fingers peel her tank top over her breasts, and she stops long enough to wrangle it past her hair. In nothing more than a tiny pair of black panties, she’s the most exquisite thing in the world. She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth, holding my stare as my hands explore every exposed inch of her soft skin, thumbs tracing her tight nipples.
She lets out a long, breathy gasp. “I need to feel you, Stone. Make love to me.”
We each scramble out of our underwear, laughing when we bump each other in the process. I enter her with one long and hard stroke, groaning with the satisfied sound that falls from her lips and the way her tight pussy welcomes me home. This woman could be my undoing—the reason for falling over the edge of sanity. I can’t get enough. I want to protect her, brand her, make her mine in every way possible. It’s pointless to picture any sort of future that doesn’t involve her at my side.
“Marry me,” I blurt. A little startled, I pull out and shove my way back in to affirm my intentions. No damn reason I should be surprised. She was meant to be mine the minute I found her crouched in that old apartment. “Say you’ll be mine forever, lil’ mouse. Not a damn thing in this world could make me happier.”
With a surprised cry, she cups my face in her hands. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”
“Fuck yeah. Never been so sure about anything.”
Tears glisten in her eyes. “I can taste the whiskey on your breath. Maybe you should wait…think it over once you’re sober.”
“Takes a helluva lot more to get me drunk than a few glasses. This is as real as it gets. You already know me better than the guys, and I think you were absolutely right when you said we were meant to cross paths. Any way you look at it, you’re mine.” I pull out of her, sensing rejection on her part. Can’t say I saw it coming, but it rips me up. “If you need more time, I get it.”
She shakes her head, grabbing my arm when I settle in beside her. “The idea of marriage…it sorta terrifies me.”
“After the shit your parents put you through and all you witnessed at that compound, I can see why.” I take her face in my hands. “We’ll redefine it to our own terms. I’d never dream of sleeping with another woman—not when I’ve found the girl of my dreams—the only one who’s ever truly understood me. And I wouldn’t hurt you for anything in the world.”
Her eyes light teasingly. “What if I do something stupid to piss you off?”
“Then we work through it. Married couples fight, sweetheart. It’s gonna happen no matter how much we’re in love. It’s the way we deal with it that matters. The way I feel about you—we’ll survive anything. I’d bet my fucking life on it.”
She kisses me with more tenderness than usual, sliding her tongue against mine and bracing herself against my chest. As long as she doesn’t push me away, I can deal with her answer. But I don’t remember anything making me as happy as the word she whispers when she pulls away.
“Okay.”
Eyes burning with
tears, I tackle her down to her back, rejoining our mouths and savoring her taste until I can no longer breathe. Forever with this woman can’t start soon enough, but it’ll have to wait until after I avenge all the wrong that was done to her.
12
Andie
The air crackles with intensity as I sit with Sasha and the guys in an abandoned city park’s empty lot. A couple football field lengths away, Colt, Ranger, and Harley wait on their motorcycles. The rest of their club members are in position nearby, well-hidden.
From the passenger’s seat of Colt’s van, Stone turns around every couple of minutes to give me an encouraging nod or a little smile. After I agreed to his crazy proposal, we both slept soundly until Harley woke us for breakfast. But I couldn’t make myself eat anything. My stomach has been in knots since Ranger informed us that Diesel was released on bail early this morning. Though we haven’t seen any sign of him, I keep expecting him to materialize out of nowhere and kill us all.
“Here we go,” Rook announces from the driver’s seat. He removes the binoculars from his eyes, grinning back at the rest of us. “A big cargo truck and a black sedan are pulling up next to Colt.”
From the van’s second row, I lean over Stone’s shoulder, squinting off into the distance. It’s hard to determine the identity of the men that exit the vehicles to meet with Colt. “Still no sign of the Martyrs?”
Rook looks back through the binoculars. “Not that I can see. But Terrance is getting out of the sedan as we speak.”
It feels as if every nerve-ending in my body has been electrified as I bounce around behind Stone. “They must be close,” I mutter to myself.
The group of people move to the back of the truck.
Time stops when I notice a line of figures emerging from bushes across the lot. I assume it’s Colt’s club members until I spot him. My father. It’s not so much his face I recognize as the way he moves, and his height distance from the others. Bane’s close by his side. I’m unable to find Diesel among them.
