Never Love An Outlaw (Deadly Pistols MC #1)(92)

But I was a prisoner in this damned room tonight too. My hell was babysitting the kid munching chips on my bed and the grown brat my crew put through the wringer. Shit, couldn't she understand I'd saved both their asses?

I wasn't f*cking around when I warned her what would've happened if it wasn't for me keeping my brothers from putting lead in their skulls. I'd sacrificed my f*cking club cred to keep her and the kid whole. Yeah, she had every reason in the world to hate me and spit in my face, but no way was I putting up with that shit.

Tomorrow, I didn't have a f*cking clue what was gonna happen. We had to play pretend around the brothers, or else somebody else would be jerking her into their room and f*cking her like another slut. The only thing keeping her safe and sane was pretending to be my old lady.

And right about now, I had some serious f*cking doubts that we were gonna be able to pull it off.

“Missy?” Jackie put down the empty Doritos bag and looked at her sis, trying to keep one eye on me.

Those brown eyes pulled away. She threw her arms around the girl, ignoring me.

“It's okay, sis. I know it's scary and it doesn't make sense...but we're going to get out of this. I'll find a way.” She paused, rocking the teenager, who was strangely calm, probably too numb to spill more tears today. “I'll do anything I have to.”

Had a feeling the last part was aimed at me. Hoped to hell she was serious, because that was the kinda attitude that might save me from a few ass kickings and keep her alive.

I swept up the broken phone fragments and took their empty packages. A hasty trip outside to throw away the junk brought me face to face with Rabid. He had one arm around some redheaded bitch I'd seen on his dick a couple times before.

“You still alive in there, bro?” he said, grinning through his short brown stubble.

“Don't see too many dead f*cks walking around out here.” I had to stop and wonder if that was true – some of the men who'd settled in from Sacramento spent enough time drunk and high to look like the living dead.

“How about the girls?” The redhead laughed when he asked, like she was in on some big f*cking secret.

I frowned, hoping he wasn't so loose with those bitches he was spilling club secrets along with his jizz. “They're doing fine. Gotta work on getting 'em somewhere else to crash. They're not a good fit for the clubhouse.”

Rabid's eyes narrowed as he saw me looking at his girl. “Whatever, bro. Hope you get them some new digs before Fang finds out.”

They walked past me to his room, right across the hall from mine, slamming the door behind them. My favorite brother wasn't kidding.

Having the Prez involved with these girls in any way, shape, or form was an express train to hell. I had to get their attitudes checked and work on shuffling them out as soon as I could. Shit was guaranteed to get more heated with the cartel soon, and then there'd be zero tolerance for loose ends.

They were sprawled out on my bed when I got back. The little one must've been knocked out after eating, but Missy was awake, bathing me in that guilty fire spilling out her eyes.

“It's been a long night. Go ahead and get some sleep,” I said. “I'll be right here on the floor if you need anything.”

She rolled over without saying anything. Should've given myself the same damned advice. It had been a long night, and it was about to get a whole lot longer.

I slept with one eye open the entire time, running my brain through cash flow, consequences, and choices. If I didn't have to worry about them flipping and running to the police, I had enough to stick them up in a hotel 'til I could find something better, maybe a crappy apartment.

Club business was too serious to keep them under lock and key forever. There had to be a balance, somewhere between covering my ass and doing what was best for them. There had to be some way outta this damned quicksand I'd landed in with both feet.

I pushed my face into my sleeping bag, muffling a growl.

One thing, I had no doubts about: if I didn't get Missy outta here soon, I wouldn't be able to keep my dick zipped up while it strained against my jeans every time I looked at her. And if she kept sassing me with those spitfire lips...

Fuck. If that happened, throwing her down, spanking her ass raw, and f*cking some respect into her was as certain as the moon hanging in the sky while I nodded off to sleep.





III: Many Kinds of Ransom (Missy)


The first three days were hell, and they were the ones where we sat in his crappy room by ourselves, alone while he went out and did...I didn't really know what, but it must've been terrible.

This club, this man, this place – they were all so close to hell I could practically smell the sulfur dripping off the walls. I seriously wondered if Jackie and I died with daddy, and now we were all paying for his sins.

Escape? It wasn't even an option.

The first day he was gone, I found out fast the door was locked from the other side. Even if we'd somehow made it out, the place was always swarming with them.

Big, brutal men stomped around outside, as dangerous and foul tempered as the grizzly bears they wore on their leather vests. Sometimes, I heard them f*cking their women through the walls. The girls screamed so loud I couldn't tell if they were being ripped apart by pleasure or having the life torn out of them.

Jackie ate, slept, and took long private trips to the bathroom, avoiding me so I wouldn't see her crying. Watching her kill herself to stay strong really hurt.