by Evie Monroe
Ella started to wail at once as a hand reached in and grabbed a handful of my hair, yanking me out on my knees. He pulled me to my feet and I felt something cold push against the side of my head.
A gun.
Cullen burst through the open door a blink later, gun drawn. His voice was firm. “Let her go, Bruiser.”
The Fury member pulled me closer in response. “Look at this tasty bitch!” he squealed. “Woo, Cullen, boy. You’ve outdone yourself with this one. You know what, they’re right. She’s got some nice tits. I bet she does give good head.”
Cullen’s voice was even and hard. “Let. Her. Go. I won’t ask again.”
I could tell by the way he laughed, as I felt his enormous belly jiggle against my back, that Cullen had some history with this disgusting person. He smelled of body odor and beer, and his beard scratched the side of my face. He wasn’t going to let me go that easily.
“You know, Cullen. I don’t think so. You had the chance to leave quietly. I think we’re beyond that. And I think it’s time we bit the head off of this Cobra. Your little pussy boys will be lost without you. They’ll probably run screaming for the hills.”
Cullen’s arm stiffened as he readjusted his finger on the trigger and his eyes locked on mine. He was clearly not listening to this man’s taunts. Sweat trickled down his forehead. “I’m warning you. She has nothing to do with any of this. If you don’t want to be sucking on the barrel of my gun, you’d . . .”
“NO,” Bruiser warned, his voice shaking the walls. “You’d better. You’d better shut your hole and listen for once, Mr. President, Mr. High and Mighty. Now, get down on your fuckin’ knees.”
Ella was starting to wail louder, and I shook, knowing I couldn’t go to her. I hoped Cullen knew what he was doing. I trusted him, but for the first time, as his gaze locked on mine, I saw the cracks in his façade. “Like hell I will.”
But the cracks only seemed to widen when Bruiser heard the crying too and drew me back toward the closet. “This your kid, Cullen? Is Cullen a baby daddy?”
He ripped at my hair to get me to shut up. I let out a shriek as pain screamed down my scalp, to the nape of my neck. More tears squeezed out of my eyes.
“Don’t touch her,” Cullen seethed, veins popping up in his hands, his arms, his neck.
“Aw, you make such a sweet family. Mom, baby, and little pussy McKnight.” I felt his head swinging toward the closet, toward Ella, and my heart ached with the need to protect her. “Why don’t we ask her, since we’re all here together?”
He nuzzled his face into the side of my hair and sniffed. “Mmmm. She smells good. So, sweetness, what do you think? You think this pussy piece of shit Cullen is your happily ever after?”
He poked me to respond, but I stifled a whimper in return, and shoved at him. Cullen was more of a man than any Fury would ever be.
Cullen moved deeper into the room, his jaw working, and I could tell he was thinking. All the while he kept the gun out, narrowing his eyes to aim in Bruiser’s direction. Was he trying to get off a shot? Did he think he could kill Bruiser, even with me as his shield? That was a big chance.
A chance I knew Cullen wouldn’t take unless he was absolutely sure he could pull it off. He wouldn’t risk my life. I was trembling, my heart was beating a mile a minute, but I willed myself to be absolutely still and not make this any more difficult for him than it already was.
Suddenly, I heard the door out front fly open. For a split second I dared to hope it was our salvation, maybe the other Cobras here to help, but then two more Fury arrived, guns drawn. They took in the scene, then pointed their weapons at Cullen as he took a step toward the wall, never lowering his gun.
Had Cullen even called for help? I wasn’t even sure. I wouldn’t put it past him to think he could handle everything on his own.
Cullen sucked in a breath as his eyes scanned them. I stifled a sob. I couldn’t stand it if Cullen gave up now. I was only able to fight because he was.
“Hey. Take me instead,” he said suddenly. “Let’s stop playing around. You don’t want her, you want me. Let her go and I’ll drop my gun. Okay?”
Bruiser laughed. “We don’t want to take you anywhere, boy. We have no need for prisoners. Especially you. You got that?”
The other men laughed sadistically. One of them sneered, “Yeah, man. Chop the head off the snake.”
A low rumble emanated from deep within his chest, almost like thunder. He nodded. “Okay, fine. But just let her go and promise you won’t hurt her. I don’t give a shit what happens to me.”
I could barely breathe. Ella screamed in the background, but what I heard louder than anything, was my own beating heart. My brain buzzed as blood shot hot and urgent through my veins. Sweat poured down my ribcage. It occurred to me just what Bruiser was saying. My life, in exchange for his.
Cullen was going to die. For me.
“No,” I murmured, shaking my head. “No. Please.”
“Get on your knees, asshole,” Bruiser said. “And drop your fucking piece.”
No. He couldn’t do that. Cullen, unarmed, against these three, could never be a good thing. He was walking into certain death, for me. “Cullen,” I wailed. “Don’t.”
“Hey,” he said to me gently, his eyes softening. “It’s all right.”
“I love you,” I blurted, wanting desperately to touch him. To hold him. To feel his arms around me, just one last time. That time in the hot tub, and on the bed, only a few hours ago? So much bliss . . . and now it was over. How could the best and worst night of my life be one in the same? Tears clouded my vision, but I blinked them away in desperate effort to see him. “Please. Cullen, I love you.”
“I know you do, baby,” he said, as easy and relaxed as always, as if he was resigned to this fate. “Don’t worry.”
Gaze fixed on mine, Cullen’s lips moved, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying. It felt like a secret message, just for me. I wanted desperately to understand, wondered if I would ever know, but a second later, his eyes went back to Bruiser, where they stayed, turning dark and cold.
Shoulders tense, arms wavering in front of him as he held the gun, his eyes twitched. He wiped sweat out of his eyes with his forearm. I could tell he was done. That even if he wasn’t ready, he didn’t have a choice. He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.
“We’re waiting, McKnight.” Bruiser grinned sickly, his foul breath making me want to puke, and I could tell that this was something he’d been waiting a long time to see.
Cullen McKnight, President of the Steel Cobras. The father of my baby and the only man I’d ever loved. Humiliated. Dead.
I shuddered, stomping my feet, trying to tear myself loose from Bruiser’s big hands. These assholes wanted me to witness Cullen’s downfall, but I couldn’t bear to see this.
His chest slick with sweat, his muscles tense, Cullen ran his tongue over his lips. He loosened his grip on the gun.
And he slowly dropped to his knees.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Cullen
On my knees, I had the gun dangle on my finger before letting it fall to the carpet. My eyes scanned to my boots, on the other side of the room. I didn’t have either of my weapons now.
Bruiser laughed. Long and hard. The asshole had been waiting for this day for a long time.
“Okay. Let her go,” I growled. Grace was still in his arms, still trembling, eyes closed, her lips moving in a silent prayer.
He gave me a dismissive wave. “In a minute. Hands behind your head.”
He was milking this, now, on a power trip. I did as he said, giving him a defiant look. “Now. Let her go, fucker.”
Bruiser shook his head and sauntered over to me, still holding the gun to Grace’s temple. “Let me enjoy this a little.”
That was not a good sign.
Grinning down at me, he suddenly spat at me, foul-smelling saliva spraying my face. I refused to blink, to let him have that satisfaction. He motioned to the other gu
ys, who came over and did it as well, hocking up saliva in their throats over and over again, until it was dripping from my chin, running down my neck, thick and wet. The other guys got off on it, too, making a show of it, seeing who had the best aim.
All the while, I stared at them, my blood hot and raging in my veins, wanting to rip their fucking heads off.
Only one thing went through my mind, as far as they were concerned. If I got out of this.
No.
Fucking.
Mercy.
“Let. Her. Go!” I repeated, the strength of my voice growing to a boom. “Now. Let her and the baby out of here right now. That was our deal.”
He laughed. “You didn’t say please.”
He shoved Grace over to his two goons, who grabbed her, putting their hands all over her. One of them put his hands up her camisole, cupping her tits, and she whimpered. Now it’d gone too far. If I ever got out of here, I knew I’d kill them all, in the bloodiest way possible. No more making peace. I wouldn’t rest until all of them were ripped limb from limb.
He came up close to me, running the gun through my hair, as if trying to style it. He leaned over and squeezed on my cheek. Patted my face. He was loving this, getting the best of a club president, since he’d never had the balls or the popularity to be one himself. The two goons behind him laughed, spurring him on. “I wonder what your guys would say if they could see King Cobra now, huh?” he asked them. He looked over at Grace. “What do you think, seeing your pussy-assed man like this? Not so badass, is he?”
But I wouldn’t look at her. I could hear her whimpering. Feel her trembling. It was too much to know I’d brought this all on her. That I’d fucked her, just the way all those men had fucked over her mom. Just the way she knew I’d end up fucking her.
I flinched and scowled up at him. “You’re going to get yours. Soon. And I’m going to fucking dance on your grave.”
He brought his gun to my forehead, pushed the cold steel hard into the very center of my head, between my eyes. “Don’t think so, Cullen, my boy. This is where you end.”
As he cocked the gun, I managed a tight smile.
“I’ll see you in hell,” I hissed.
“You might,” he grinned, pressing the gun harder into my skin. “But even then, you’re never going to know what we did with your sweet little tasty bitch. We’ll leave you to burn, wondering. But I’m telling you, it won’t be pretty.”
Fucking hell. They really weren’t going to let her go after I was gone. No fucking wonder Nix had such a thirst for blood where the Fury were concerned. He was level-headed otherwise, but had no mercy for the Fury, because they’d done this to his girl, Olivia, too. They would have killed her, too, if we hadn’t intervened. And I hadn’t listened. I’d fought him on retaliation until the last possible moment. I’d been too soft. Tried to play nice, for the sake of my own stupidity.
Right then, I swore, as long as I lived, I’d never make that mistake again.
Bruiser’s finger tightened on the trigger, and I knew it wouldn’t be long.
But then, his smile dissolved, and I looked past the gun pointing between my eyes, catching him listening. I strained to hear over the sound of my pulse, pounding through my temples. Motorcycles. Fury . . . Or Cobras? The other men heard it, too, because one of them went into the living room. “I didn’t think any of the other guys were. . .” he was mumbling as he stepped out.
I knew the disruption was my best and last chance.
While Bruiser was distracted by the sound, I swung my arm out, pushing the gun’s barrel off of my forehead. Stunned, Bruiser turned back and fired off a round, and the ceramic lamp at the night stand exploded. I rolled to the floor behind the bed, reached for my boot, grabbed my other piece, and fired off a single shot aimed at Bruiser’s head.
The bullet caught him in his forehead and shaved off the top of his skull, showering me with blood and brain matter and bone fragments. I wiped the gore from my face in time to see him collapse to the floor in a heap, a stunned look on his face, like he didn’t know what hit him.
I turned my gun to the other guy. Grace screamed in the man’s grip, fighting against him. I heard the man shout, “You bitch,” as I watched her lift her mouth from his arm, leaving a bloody half-circle-shaped bite mark on his forearm. She’d fucking bit him, tearing off a chunk of his skin. A woman possessed, her hair flying in her face, she kicked backwards, yanking violently.
Fuck! Where did this Grace come from?
The guy was no match for her. He tried to turn his gun to her as she let out a shriek, all flailing arms and legs, elbowing it out of his grip before he could aim. When she saw me, she wrenched herself free from him and ducked, flattening herself on the ground.
I fired off a shot, hitting him in the chest, and he staggered backwards, clutching his heart, falling in front of the bathroom door.
“Cullen!” she screamed.
Reaching for her and shoving her aside, blocking her with my body, I quickly turned to the other guy, who was just returning from the living room, his gun drawn. He put his hands up, dropping his weapon. “Hey. Wait.”
“I don’t wait,” I muttered, still pumped with adrenaline after what they’d done to Grace.
Fuck that. I wasn’t going to wait again. Didn’t care that he was new Fury blood. He’d picked the wrong goddamn side.
I fired off two rounds into his head. He sunk to his knees, a small river of blood trickling into his eyes, before falling face-first to the ground.
Grace slunk down onto the bed, breathing hard, vising her head in her hands. Her wide eyes scanned the dead bodies at her feet. “Oh. Oh my God. Oh my God.”
I went to her, knelt down in front of her. “You okay?” I couldn’t touch her; I was full of spit and gore.
It didn’t matter to her. She wasn’t looking at me. Still shaking, she pushed away from me, and crawled toward the closet. It was only then that I heard Ella’s crying. Grace came out of the closet, gathering Ella to her chest, shushing her softly. By the time I crawled over there, Ella had calmed and was cooing softly, smiling up at her mother’s face.
Fierce. Caring. Loyal. Grace was born to be a mother. Born to be the mother of my kids. And with a woman this good in Ella’s life, I figured I couldn’t fuck things up too much. I’d give it my best shot.
I crawled up and staggered to the bathroom and ran my head under the shower to clean the Fury shit off my head and my face. I could hear Grace escape to the living room as I grabbed a towel, wiping myself clean, dry, stepping over the carnage as I joined her in the living room.
I leaned over and kissed them both, ready for whatever came next.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Grace
Stunned.
Shaking.
Scared to fucking death.
I cradled Ella in my arms, clinging to her, needing her and her sweetness as much as she needed my arms around her, comforting her. I needed to get everything I’d seen out of my head.
But I didn’t think that was possible. Seconds had passed, and I already knew these memories would be seared in my brain forever.
The bleeding bodies were still scattered around us. These men’s lives had just ended. Cullen had just taken them down in a shootout, right in front of me, without a second thought. He’d done it like he did everything else, with precise, almost clinical calmness.
I held Ella to my chest as I sensed a warm presence behind me. At first, I flinched, but then I settled into it, knowing it was the man who’d promised to protect me, no matter what. It was uniquely Cullen, whose arms I fit into better than anyone else’s. Who, even after all this, made me feel like I was home.
“Hey,” he whispered into my ear. “You all right?”
I couldn’t bring myself to answer. Because no, I was far from all right. I was getting better though, nestled in his arms. I just wanted him to hold me in this quiet cocoon a little while longer.
“Ella all right?” He ran a hand through her curls
and she cooed happily. My chest swelled with relief.
I hugged him back, tighter, wrapping my hand around his neck. His skin was damp; I breathed in the sweet scent of his sweat, a scent that felt like home. “I can’t believe you did that.”
“I told you,” he said, nonchalant, though even I could feel his heart beating double-time in his chest. “I’m never gonna let anything happen to you or Ella.”
Holding tight to me, he lifted me to my feet, and, shielding my eyes from the bodies on the floor in the next room, walked me through the living room, and out the open front door.
Outside, on the tree-lined path, crickets chirped on, undaunted by what had happened here. Sirens wailed in the distance. I kept my head down, my face buried in his chest, Ella pressed against my breast as I heard the sound of someone running and faraway chatter. On the path ahead, a voice shouted, “Cullen! What the fuck happened?”
I looked up to see one of the men who’d been outside the warehouse coming toward us, gun drawn.
“They’re dead, Hart. Bruiser too,” Cullen said, voice hard, pointing the way behind us. “I had to leave our stuff.”
“Bruiser? Shit.” He gnashed his teeth. “What the hell? He came after you?”
“I’ll call church later,” Cullen said, guiding me toward the parking lot. “I’ve got to get these two away from here. Get in there and clean up as much as you can, get the stuff we left, then get your ass out of there. The police’ll be here any second.”
More people were running now, gathering on the path outside the bungalows, wondering what the hell was going on. They were murmuring that they’d heard the gunshots. More guys in Cobras kuttes arrived, too, but Cullen silently signaled to them to turn around and go back. He had a hundred-dollar bill out before he got to the valet. “Hey,” he said to the teenaged boy at the stand. “Be quick about it, okay?”
The kid’s eyes scanned over us. We were both barefoot, and Cullen was only wearing jeans, his gun sticking out from the waistband. I was still trembling. The boy opened his mouth to speak but Cullen shut him down. “NO questions.”
