Never Love An Outlaw (Deadly Pistols MC #1)(46)



“You do that.” I reached for her hand, squeezing it tight, one last time I couldn't resist. “Get your shit together, Meg, whatever it takes. You've got a second chance, and I wanna see you in the papers in a few years, knocking the absolute piss outta anything you choose to take on. Ricky's rotting where he can never hurt you, and I'll make sure my boys deal with the Deads. You're free. This last little payment's just an afterthought.”

She forced a smile. We both knew damned well the money was very important, but I wasn't gonna ruin the moment, even if I had to tell her a few white lies.

She knew the truth. And I had a feeling she saw it in my eyes, everything I tried to bury, wishing it would go into the deep, dark earth as easily as the pimp's broken bones.

“I wouldn't be here without you, Skin. Thank you, so much, from the bottom of my heart.”

I let her throw her little arms around my neck and give me one last hug. When I was done enjoying her tits pressed close to my face one more time, I gave her a gentle push, putting on my angry rebel mask again.

Wetness spattered my ear. At first, I thought she was turning on the waterworks again, but the thunder and darkness rolling in overhead said different. Thank God for small miracles, giving me the perfect excuse to wind this up clean.

“Go on and get the hell inside. Last thing I need is you catching cold.”

The last smile she flashed me was all real. I watched her run to the intercom and hold the button down, muttering a few words, soft and uneasy.

I had my bike primed by the time the gate slid open, and two dark figures showed up on the distant doorstep to the big house, between the Greek columns. The taller silhouette took off, running toward her as she went through the opening, as fast as his legs would carry him.

That was my signal to take off into the night, and I did.

I rode the storm hard, moisture coalescing along the stubble on my face. Taking the mountain curves like a demon outside Knoxville, I smiled when the wind picked up. I opened my mouth and howled like a f*cking demon, just as lightning cut the sky.

I'd find a way to survive this chick, even if it killed me. I had to. No woman changed me or twisted me up in knots, much less this dove from a world I'd never understand, the world where she belonged.

When I took this patch, I swore nobody would ever f*ck me over, much less myself.

If blackening my heart was the price of giving Meg a second chance, then I'd do it. I'd make myself so hard and cold that even Joker would look at me like I'd gut his ass over a dirty look.





VII: Home Sweet Home (Megan)


“Megan?! It's really you, isn't it? Oh, God!”

Daddy's arms couldn't stop shaking as he threw them around me and threatened to squeeze the life out of me. He held me tight, a familiar, happy hold I hadn't experienced since I graduated High School, back when I was his perfect princess.

Too bad the only embrace I could feel was Skin's. His were the only lips I thought about when I watched my dad's moving, praising God for my return, blasting me with a thousand and one questions.

I already missed him, and he'd barely been gone for five minutes. How f*cked up was that?

I didn't have time to think long about the past. Somewhere in Dad's embrace, Mom's kisses began to hit me, the last straw I needed before I officially broke down.

We stood in the rain for a long time, a family reunion bittersweet to the core. By the time they finally let up long enough to let me walk toward the house with them, I wondered where I truly belonged.

The huge family estate loomed over me like something from a dream. It didn't feel like home anymore, and it didn't feel safe either.

The only place I'd ever found that was in his arms, and now he was gone from my life forever.

“Start over, Miss Wilder. Tell us everything again, this time from the top.” Investigator Harlow shot me an easy look and put his finger on the camera's red on button.

It was the third f*cking time that day I'd been asked to give a statement. So much for rest, much less easing back into my old life.

They'd been waiting for me when Mom brought me back from the clinic that morning. The doctors were thorough – what else when they were the best money could buy?

I'd gotten a clean bill of health. No STDs, no broken bones, no bleeding ulcers.

No surprise, my parents were already pushing me to take a therapy retreat to clear my mind. Really, I think they just wanted to stamp out the bruises left by my trauma as soon as possible so they could have their bratty, carefree daughter back.

“It's okay, honey. Just do what the nice man says, and you'll be off to Georgia before you know it.” Dad reached over and squeezed my hand.

His smile seemed so brittle. Mom left the room after the first statement, unable to hide her horror when she heard about everything that happened to me.

They didn't know what to do except send me away to a spa in Georgia with orchards a plenty and world class psychologists. Hearing about the savage abuse I'd suffered brought tears and anger at first, but then it brought total paralysis, weak little looks from my mom and dad like I'd been tarnished forever.

They didn't know how to bring me back to life. Hell, neither did I, but this endless interrogation wasn't helping.

“You heard it all the first two times,” I snapped. “What else is there to say? Here, let me break it down for you – I was kidnapped, pimped out for six months of my life, and sold to a man on the black market one state over. I never found out his name. I don't know anything except what Ricky said, and it wasn't much. He couldn't even bother driving me down there himself.”

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