Never Love An Outlaw (Deadly Pistols MC #1)(144)

I slid off the table, standing. “When do we leave?”

“A couple more hours. Just need to get a few more things ready,” Blaze said. “You'll ride with Stinger and Moose. Gotta make sure you've worked all that piss outta your system, and you're not gonna do anything stupid.”

That was fair. Didn't change the fact that they were f*ckers. I nodded.

Blaze stepped out, giving Shelly a quick hug and a kiss on his way out. The other guys hung back, tucking into their old ladies. Seeing Tank press the tiny blonde into his immense frame and plant his lips on her made lava seethe in my veins.

Then I saw Stinger, his arms wrapped around the dark haired girl, whispering to her. “I promise I'll be back before you know it, baby. Stay sexy and help Saffron with the girl while we're gone. Love you, Alice.”

“You know I will,” she purred.

They kissed. Fuck. Panic burbled deep in my brain, the horrible possibility I might never see my girl again. Let alone hold her like that, suck her bottom lip, whisper all the thousands of sweet and filthy words pent up in my head.

No. She's coming home in one piece. Same beautiful package I'd rip my f*cking heart out for.

You can't f*cking lose her like you've already lost your mind.

Hold on, babe. Your old man's coming.

“Brass.” Shelly grabbed me on my way out. “Bring everybody home safe, and that means you too.”

I managed a thin smile. “Thanks, sis. Uh, sorry about the truck. I hope like f*ck nothing's happened to it. I'll bring it home too, if I can.”

“You know I don't give a shit about the wheels. It's just one more thing to deal with.” She rolled her eyes. “The girl was upset. Crazy. I haven't even told her little sister yet...”

“You work on that,” I said. “With any luck, I'll have her home with your ride so you don't have to tell Jackie how f*cked up things are. She's been through too f*cking much for a fourteen year old.”

“I know.” She looked at the ground sadly. “And I remember what it was like for us at that age. You've got to be honest to keep them from going off the rails. Mom tried to hide how bad off she was until it drove you away and locked me down.”

“Yeah.” There was nothing more to say about it. She'd forgiven me for falling in with the f*cks who'd slaughtered our disabled mother. The guilt still weighed heavy on my black heart, and saying shit about the bitter past would only feed it.

“You turned yourself around, Brass,” she said, throwing her arms around me. “I'm so damned proud of you for that. I know you can fix this too. Go get the bastards who did this.”

Yes. Fuck yes. I couldn't do anything less than tear their throats out like the angry wolf I was, but this only sealed the deal.

I pressed her tight to my chest and then I was gone, following the Devils out to the garages. The guns just needed to be loaded into their rides, waiting for the battle to come.

My bones ached on the trip down, and not just from the fight. Crossing a good quarter of the continent in a week without much rest took its toll. Fuck if I was gonna let it slow me down.

I was wide awake. The pain stiffened my resolve. The Devils and I didn't say much to each other – they understood what was on the line, and that was enough. The men glowered, half as intense as me, big bearded Moose looking into the darkness like a one-eyed viking sailing toward Valhalla.

We took turns driving, following the convoy of bikes all the way to Redding. We finally veered off toward a remote spot near Shasta Lake, just north of town. Blackjack and the boys were using an old lake cabin as a base.

Everybody took a breather for a few minutes after the long drive, and then filed in. Shit, and here I thought the tension between the Devils and I was thick. In the little makeshift cabin, it was f*cking suffocating.

Devils and Grizzlies eyeballed each other like warriors from separate worlds. One wrong move was all it'd take to make bullets or knives start flying, murdering the uneasy alliance we both needed.

Rabid came up and slapped my back. “Welcome home, brother. I'm sorry as shit I couldn't get her out in time like Christa back there.”

He pointed to the little bedroom. Fucking typical Rabid. If there was any pretty redhead who needed comforting, he was always the man for the job. Though I wasn't so sure how pretty she'd be after the brutal number Fang and his crew did on her.

“There's still time,” I growled. “It's not over 'til Missy's outta that f*cking dump and we've turned this club around for good.”

A loud whistle silenced us before we could say anything else. Blackjack and Blaze were gathered at the little wooden table. All twenty guys from the two clubs coalesced in a circle.

“Make a little room for Brass,” Blackjack growled. “He needs to see this.”

Fuck. See what?

I pushed my way through a couple big Grizzlies, taking my place next to the de facto Prez. Blackjack was holding a phone, his dark eyes glued to the screen.

“Sorry, son. This just came in a few minutes ago.”

He held it up for everyone to see, especially me.

They had Missy in the dank f*cking storage room, parked on the same rickety chair where they'd tortured Christa. Fang was behind her, his sharp knife with the custom bear claw handle at her throat.

Don't f*cking do it, don't f*cking do it, don't...