UnWreck Me (Savage Beast MC Book 7)

by Hayley Faiman

  “Go,” I hiss. “Just go, if they find me, maybe they won’t look for you.”

  Trista opens her mouth to say something, to no doubt demand that I go with her, but Mamba already has her over his shoulder and he’s running, taking her to safety. Fuck me, that guy is fast. I watch him, mesmerized for longer than I should.

  When I finally stand and look around for a place to hide, it’s too late. I hear the back door open. Spinning around, I see one of them. These are the men that I’ve heard nothing but horrible things about.

  There is a clear insignia on the chest of his cut.

  Donkey Puncher MC

  Fuck.

  Taking a step backward, I stumble. My feet burn on the hot sandy dirt, but I’m frozen. He’s going to hurt me, then he’s going to kill me. His gaze flicks down to my bandaged chest, then his lips curve up into a grin.

  “You’re an Old Lady, yeah?” he grunts.

  I don’t speak. I’m not able to. I’ve never been this scared before, I’m literally frozen in terror. This is a term that I didn’t quite understand, not until this exact moment. Even with the senator I wasn’t as completely terrified as I am right now. I was resigned with him, not scared.

  “Fuck me, but you’re a pretty one. How do these weak fucks get such pretty cunts, hmmm?” he asks as he adjusts his dick.

  I want to throw up, all over him. I want to puke, because the only way that I could possibly get out of this will be to fuck him. I already whored myself once with an old client to help Hawk. I gave myself to that border agent, free of charge, just to help his club out, now I may have to do it again to save my own fucking neck and the lives of whoever else is still breathing on the compound, to potentially save Trista.

  “What happens now?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

  His lips snarl up into an ugly smile. He would be marginally handsome, if he wasn’t so ugly on the inside, if he didn’t snarl with hatred. But he does, so he’s butt-assed ugly. I shake that disgust that I feel toward him away, because I’m a professional—or at least I used to be.

  “I think you know what happens. Wanna save your people?”

  “Let’s be real. You’re going to slit my throat whether I volunteer to spread my legs or if you force me. So just tell me how I survive this.”

  He arches a brow, clearly impressed by my false bravado. I don’t cower to him, at least on the outside. Inside, I’m shaking like a fucking leaf as he watches me, his gaze searching my own, his eyes almost sparkling with anticipation of what’s to come.

  He opens his mouth to say something, but no sound comes out. Instead, he falls forward. Pinkie stands behind him, knife in her hand. I blink at her, then blink again.

  “Bitch, get the fuck in Dragon’s office.”

  I nod my head, my feet moving before the rest of me and I run. She ushers me down the hallway and toward Dragon’s office. The lights are off and I get down on my knees, crawling toward the corner of the room, the only place that I can think to hide. I hear the deadbolt click closed and yesterday I would have panicked, but in this moment, I let out a sigh of relief. I don’t mind being locked away from those fucking sick assholes.

  I’m safe—for now, at least.

  “Avah, is that you?” a female voice calls out.

  “Yeah, who is here?” I breathe.

  “It’s me, Maria. Is Mamba okay?”

  I think back to a few minutes ago when Mamba took off with Trista over his shoulder. They made it into her house, past that I’m not sure what’s going on.

  “Yeah, as far as I know.” I don’t want to give her any kind of false hope. The truth is all that I can give right now.

  There’s a long moment of silence, but I have a burning question for her and since we’re alone and I’m scared shitless, I don’t think that I could hold it in. Besides, if I die today, I at least want my question answered, if nothing else.

  I try to ignore the sounds of the guns popping throughout the building and the way that the floors shake. They shouldn’t be shaking, it’s a concrete foundation, but they are.

  “How do you satisfy two men?” I blurt out.

  There’s a moment of silence and I think that she’s going to ignore me and refuse to answer my question, but then I hear her giggling from beside me.

  “If I don’t laugh, I’ll cry,” she whispers.

  “Why?” I ask.

  She’s quiet again before she reaches out for my hand and squeezes it. “Because they’re not happy.”

  “Maria,” I whisper. “Babe.”

  She squeezes my hand again, but finally speaks. “I’m in love with them both, but I don’t give them equal time. I can’t.”

  “Why?”

  “Mamba is easier. Gator is sweet, but he’s much more closed off. Mamba and I truly click and I know Gator feels it, but Mamba loves us both and it’s killing him that Gator has started distancing himself and feels like a third wheel.”

  “But Gator and Mamba love each other too, or is it just you and them?”

  “I think that’s part of the problem. It’s Mamba and Gator, it’s me and Mamba, me and Gator, and then it’s all three of us.”

  “That’s a lot of sex,” I mutter.

  She laughs. “It is. But it doesn’t matter how hard you try, someone feels left out and right now, it’s Gator. I don’t know how to fix it.”

  “And it needs fixing?” I ask.

  She’s quiet for a few breaths before she whispers. “It needs fixing. I need them both and they definitely need each other. I’ll fix it,” she says, determination clear in her voice.

  I’m thankful for the conversation, for the distraction from the complete fucking nightmare that is currently going down outside of Dragon’s office. It’s a heavy conversation, but it keeps my mind off of everything else.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  HAWK

  “I warned Dragon. I warned that motherfucker that this shit was going to happen and look. It’s fucking happening and I’m here, not there, and I can’t get a hold of fucking anyone,” I growl.

  Gator has his phone to his ear, shaking his head as he paces. “I can’t get Maria. I’m going to try Mamba.”

  I watch as he calls Mamba and then relief floods his face. “You’re okay,” he rasps. “What is going on?”

  There’s a moment of silence, Gator doesn’t speak, but his gaze slowly cuts over to me and his eyes widen. He licks his lips, then dips his chin to the ground before he brings his gaze back up to meet my own. “What the fuck?” he whispers. “What the fuck are you going to do? Is Maria okay?”

  “Fuck,” he hisses. “Call me when you can.”

  He ends the call, shoving the phone in his pocket before turning to fully face me. “He’s with Trista in her safe room.”

  My breath comes out in a whoosh at the sound of Trista being safe. But a whole new panicked fear slices through me, because he did not mention Avah.

  “Avah?”

  Gator slowly shakes his head. “Don’t know. He said they came busting through the gate, crashed into the side of the building, then started shooting. He threw Trista over his shoulder and ran her home.”

  “Fuck,” I spit.

  I do not feel good, nothing feels right about any of this. I think about Jaguar and wonder why he didn’t tell me, if he’s serious about coming back this would be something that he should have fucking warned me about. The only reason I can think is that he is dirty as fuck and played me—played Dragon, played the whole fucking Savage Beast MC.

  “Skulls are on their way to back up the Beasts,” Dutch announces as he walks up to our two-person huddle. “Don’t know if they’ll make it in time, but they’re rolling deep with hope to take them all the fuck out.”

  Gator doesn’t say anything, I glance over to him and he’s moving his lips. Then I hear his voice as he murmurs to himself. “I love them, I love them and I’m fucking up. I’m a selfish prick. Fuck, I love them.”

  I feel his shit, I love Avah and I was thin
king about taking off from here and not going back. I’m a selfish fucking prick too.

  “What do we do?” Dutch asks. “Because I got an idea.”

  “What’s that?” I ask.

  “Get the girl, blow the fuck out of their clubhouse, and bring her back with us to use as we all see fit.”

  “Thought we were vigilantes now?” I ask on a snort.

  Dutch shakes his head, but it’s Gator that speaks first. “Not her fault, but we don’t make a statement, they think we’re gonna bend over and take their cocks up our asses and even though I might play that way, I don’t for or with them.”

  I almost laugh. If I wasn’t so fucking pissed off and scared, I might. “Not her fault, but it’s none of our people’s fault either who are sitting there in a place that’s supposed to be safe.”

  “That’s the fucking truth of it,” Gator grunts.

  “Know where we can get some bombs?” I ask, turning to Dutch.

  His lips curve up into a grin. “Fuck yeah. I’ll make that shit. Won’t be strong enough to kill everyone there, but enough to distract them so we can get in, get the girl and get the fuck out.”

  “Any idea what she looks like?” Gator asks.

  Shaking my head, I lift my hand and run my fingers through my hair. “No, but I know someone who does, I just don’t know if I can trust him.”

  “Fucking Jaguar,” Gator snaps.

  “Fucking Jaguar,” I agree with a nod.

  Dutch clears his throat and I look over to him just as he dips his chin toward the body on the ground in a growing pool of blood. “What do you want to do with this fuck?”

  I shrug a shoulder. “Leave him there? Let his employees find him. I don’t really give a shit, he’s a traitor.”

  Dutch nods at the same time Gator lets out a snort. “Sounds like a fucking plan.”

  We turn from Marshall and I’m glad that we had him take his cameras out of the warehouse and only ours are in place. Something that we required, but also had Worm verify.

  Sending a text to Worm, I tell him to disable all of the cameras at the mattress warehouse. I don’t know when he’ll be able to do it, but hopefully soon.

  After all this shit blows over, if he survives it. I don’t know just how thorough and bloody the Punchers plan on being today or if this is more like a message they’re trying to send. Instead of shoving my phone in my pocket, I send a text to Jaguar.

  CALL ME. ASAP.

  I wait for a few moments and am about to call him my fucking self when the phone rings and his name lights up on my screen. My thumb slides across the screen and instead of putting it to my ear, I touch the speaker icon.

  “Care to explain to me why your men are invading Eagar?” I bark.

  It’s quiet, too quiet, and I think that he’s ended the call, but then he speaks. “I didn’t know. I’m allowed to go to some meetings, but I’m not fully patched in, they don’t let me in on everything. I thought they were just going on a regular run,” he practically whimpers as he quickly speaks.

  “I want Marshall’s daughter delivered to me. Hand delivered.”

  “Hawk,” he hisses.

  “Don’t fuck with me. I’m about ready to go into that place guns blazing and right now you’re my number one target.”

  He’s quiet again, but finally speaks. “I didn’t do anything, if I had known, I would have at least warned you. I would have warned Dragon.”

  “You got a choice to make, Jaguar. You’re either with us or them, young snatch aside. I won’t kill everyone in there, including her, if you deliver Marshall’s daughter to me by tomorrow morning.”

  “What else are you going to do,” he grinds out.

  “Oh, I’m blowing some shit up, I just won’t blow everyone up. Tomorrow morning. Have her where we met today. Maybe bring your other young snatch with you if you don’t want her to accidentally get caught in the crossfire.”

  I end the call, turning to Gator who is watching me with a narrowed gaze. “That’s why Dragon isn’t going in yet, Jaguar wants to wait until his jailbait turns fucking eighteen so she’s not put on an Amber fucking Alert list as being kidnapped.”

  “One hair on Maria’s head is hurt, I’m killing him myself.”

  “You’ll need to stand in goddamn line,” I snap.

  Dutch clears his throat, his gaze flicking between us. “We got bombs to build, fuckers. Let’s do this shit.”

  Without another word, we leave the warehouse with Marshall on the ground soaked in his own blood. I should feel badly, he was my friend. A guy that I met in a bar in Oregon years ago. He seemed decent enough, but he wasn’t loyal and I have no room in my life, in my club’s life, for that shit.

  A man is nothing if he doesn’t have his word and, in the end, Marshall was absolutely fucking nothing.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  AVAH

  It feels like we stay in that dark office for hours. Hours and hours and hours. Maria and I don’t speak anymore, we just hold hands and tremble next to one another.

  I don’t know what is going to happen next, and it’s eerily quiet outside of the office for far too long. I expect Pinkie to pop her head in and tell us it’s safe, but nothing happens.

  “We get out of this alive and I’m fixing everything with Mamba and Gator, whatever that means,” Maria blurts out on a whisper.

  “Whatever that means?” I ask.

  She squeezes my hand again right before she starts to whisper to me. “If Gator needs more, something that he can’t get from us then I have to let him go. If Mamba can’t give him what he needs, then we’re going to have to let him go.”

  “But you’re not willing to let Mamba go?” I ask.

  She’s quiet, too quiet, and I hear her sniffle. She’s crying, but I don’t tell her it’s okay, because it’s really not. If she loves them both, she shouldn’t be willing to let one go just to keep the other.

  “I don’t want Gator to be unhappy, I don’t want either of them to be unhappy. I just want what we had back when we started.”

  “Nothing can be the way it was in the beginning,” I breathe.

  There’s another long moment of silence. “I’m afraid that I’m going to be the one left behind,” she admits softly.

  “Because?”

  “They love one another so fiercely, you can practically taste the desire in the room. When they are together, it’s like I’m an afterthought.”

  “So you make yourself the center of attention?” I guess.

  She hums and I squeeze her hand. “Talk to them. If you don’t want to talk, then show them how much you need them both—together.”

  “Have you ever been in a poly relationship before?” she asks.

  “I haven’t, but I’ve had a lot of men come to me instead of talking to their wives about what they need. Instead of showing them what they desire.”

  The room is bathed in silence, and I expect her to say something, but she doesn’t. She also doesn’t release my hand. I hear her suck in a breath as if she’s getting ready to speak when the door flies open.

  My lips part and I start to scream when I realize that it’s Mamba on the other side. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he growls. “Get the fuck out here.”

  Maria scrambles to her feet faster than I’ve ever seen a woman move in my entire life. I watch as she runs toward him, throwing her arms around his shoulders and wrapping her legs around his waist, then she starts making out with him.

  He grunts, taking a few steps inside before he turns her so that her back is pressed against the wall. The second I hear her moan, I become unglued from the floor and I get the hell outta dodge. I like them a lot, and I’m aware everyone saw me getting eaten out by Hawk, but I’m generally not into voyeurism, so I slip out as quietly and quickly as possible.

  Hurrying toward the main room, the bar, I am not prepared for the image that assaults me as soon as I walk inside. Silver is sitting against the wall, holding something against his shoulder.

  Trista
is in front of him, her phone in her hand as she waves her hands around, presumably freaking the fuck out as she no doubt is calling for help. Then there’s a couple other people on the floor, unmoving.

  Pinkie has her face in her hands as she sits next to a body that I do not recognize. “Babe, you okay?” a gruff voice asks.

  Spinning around, I blink at the man in front of me. I remember him from the senator’s place. He was one of the men who helped me from the other club, one that I didn’t know was friendly with the Savage Beasts.

  “Bones,” he says, giving me a small smile.

  “I’m okay,” I whisper.

  “You sure? You look a little pale.”

  “They killed these guys, didn’t they?” I ask.

  I don’t look down at the bodies on the floor, I don’t need to point to them either, he knows exactly what I’m referring to. Instead of answering me, he takes a few steps in my direction, then wraps his hand around my bicep before he gently tugs me toward an empty table and guides my ass into the seat by applying pressure as he tugs my arm down.

  “They did,” he says, though I didn’t really need to hear the confirmation.

  I’m not stupid and it wasn’t hard to figure that shit out. Unmoving bodies, Pinkie crying. It was pretty crystal fucking clear what happened. Staring straight ahead, I tilt my head to the side as I think about what’s just happened.

  I don’t know.

  I don’t know what happened or why.

  Shifting my gaze to the man who is now sitting next to me, I lick my lips before I ask him what just happened.

  “War, babe. The Donkey Punchers have been alluding to it, they just fired the first fucking shot and it’s on now.”

  “What does it mean?” I ask on a whisper.

  His lips curve up into a grin. “It means we’re going to spill blood, babe. A fuck of a lot of blood and we’re going to enjoy it, too.”

  “How many people are going to die?”

  He shakes his head. “More of theirs than ours, I can promise you that.”