Never Love An Outlaw (Deadly Pistols MC #1)(130)

“You're sure we can trust these men, Brass?”

“No.” She looked at me like I'd lost my mind as soon as I said it. “But I do know they don't hurt women and children. The Devils are notorious for picking up strays and nursing 'em back to health. Just in case, I'm not taking any chances...”

She narrowed her pretty eyes, beaming more questions my way. I refused to answer 'til we were right at their gates. The grinning devil on the building behind their fence leered out, a full blown mural with the guys and their infamous logo painted on it.

The gate didn't open. A tall man with short, spiky hair walked up, and I instantly stifled a growl. It was Blaze, the bastard who'd married my sister. The giant named Tank and the shorter, leaner guy who served as his VP, Stinger, was coming up behind him.

“Stay here!” I heard my girl yell to her kid sis, joining me at the gate.

Fuck, I didn't like her there, right in the open, but I wasn't gonna fight it.

“Hold up,” Blaze snapped, throwing up a hand. “Wait here while we open up. Gonna have my Sergeant-at-Arms pat your asses down and make sure you're not f*cking with us.”

“Nope.” Blaze's whole body twitched at my reply. “I'll stand here. You can pat me down, and me only. Lay a hand on my old lady or her kid sister in the truck, and I'll turn this f*cking thing right around and take my chances alone back in Redding.”

Blaze snorted, shaking his head. “You gotta be shitting me. You're the f*ck who's come to my doorstep begging, remember? My clubhouse, my rules.”

Stinger gave a stern nod. Behind him, Tank glowered, flexing his cannon-sized arms. The big f*cker still wanted the blows he hadn't gotten back in Reno, when the old ladies held him back from smashing me to mush.

Missy reached over and smoothed her hands over my arm. “Brass...”

One look at her soothed the anger, if only a notch. Fuck. If I was alone, I wouldn't have hesitated to stand here all day and argue with these f*cks. But nothing was easy since my old lady and the kid came into my life.

“All right. You're an *, Blaze, but I know you're a reasonable man. I know Blackjack talked to you by now about safe harbor for my girls...you give me that up front, right now, and I'm yours. The f*cking gorilla behind you doesn't even need to pat me down nicely. You know, unless he's into that.”

Tank grunted angrily, taking a step forward. Blaze spun, gave him the evil eye, and then turned back to me, clenching his fists on the iron bars.

“And you're a junkie * I don't trust within an inch of my life,” he growled. “Too bad you're also my woman's only blood, or we wouldn't be having this talk right now.”

His eyes shifted to Missy. Nervous anger and uncertainty showed in her tight face, but she held his gaze.

Blaze let out a long sigh and lowered his face for a second, before bringing it back up. “Fuck. Okay. Here's how it's gonna go. The girls get out, stand off to the side, and I'll have Sting search the truck. If you're not hiding anything f*cked up, you hand your chick the keys and she goes on her merry way, straight to the hotel we've got arranged. Nowhere else. I'll keep two guys posted to make sure nobody unexpected shows up.”

I didn't like it, but I could live with those terms. I nodded.

“Tank.” Blaze called his name and he stepped forward, punching the code on their side.

The gate slid open. Stinger marched out first, shooting me an uneasy look, heading for the truck. Missy ran ahead of him to collect Jackie.

Goliath stood next to me like a statue. Knew the f*cker was waiting to get through searching the vehicle before he had his fun.

Stinger combed everything over thoroughly. Blaze made me grind my teeth and rage on the best day, but I had to admit, the * sure knew how to pick his crew. He had more skilled, level headed guys under him right now than Redding had seen for years, despite being a whole lot bigger. Sting's search was all over in a couple minutes, cold and efficient.

“It's clear, Prez. Nothing in there I wouldn't expect to see after a long road trip,” the VP said, saluting with a huge smile.

“Okay. Grab Moose and get your bikes to escort this f*cking rust bucket home.” He turned to me. “Now's a damned good time to hand over the keys. You packing any heat, you hand it over right now.”

We locked eyes. I couldn't tell whether or not the f*cker was enjoying this, but he was deadly insistent. Growling, I reached into my pocket while Tank eyeballed me, throwing my keys and wallet to Missy first.

“Go, babe. You'll both be fine. I'll get over there as soon as I can later,” I said, pulling out my nine millimeter and passing it to Blaze.

She gave me one last, longing look, and then took off. I watched her climb into the driver's seat, waiting for the Prairie Pussies. A couple bikes roared out through the half-open gate a second later, Stinger on one, and a fat bearded dude with an eye patch on the one behind him.

The truck started up and followed the Harleys down the road. Soon as we were alone, the whole world shifted.

Tank picked me up like a measly branch and slammed me into the brick wall next to the gate. My torso hit so f*cking hard it sucked the wind outta my lungs. I grinned and tried to laugh, but nothing would come out. Grinning and baring it was all I could do to avoid signing my death warrant, swinging around and throwing my fist into his thick jaw.