Undeniable (Undeniable, #1)(36)

“Damn.”

“Cox, call the f*ckin’ boys. Have ’em stick with Ripper ’til I figure this shit out.”

“Got it.”

He shoved his phone back in his pocket and headed back the way he came. After grabbing another beer, he headed out the kitchen door. The door had just barely shut behind him when he felt the barrel of a gun pressed against his temple. Startled, he dropped his beer.

“What’s up, f*cker? Think I didn’t see you standin’ there watchin’ me? Think I don’t know you’re here for me? Been waitin’ on you *s for a grip now. Figured you didn’t give a f*ck I carved your boy up, but here you are givin’ a f*ck. Took you long enough.”

He didn’t say anything. There wasn’t anything he could say that would make a man like Frankie back down. He had to think fast, or he was going to die. Frankie didn’t f*ck around. So he played the only card he had. Eva.

“Saw your old lady in there, Frankie; she’s lookin’ f*ckin’ good.”

The barrel pressed in harder. “She’s my f*ckin’ wife, and you shouldn’t be lookin’. People who look get f*ckin’ dead real f*ckin’ quick.”

Wife? Christ.

He shrugged. “She ever tell you ’bout us?”

Frankie went stiff. “There ain’t shit to tell,” he growled.

Perfect. So perfect. Asshole walked himself right into it.

“First taste wasn’t yours, kid. That was all f*ckin’ mine. Demon barbeque ’bout fourteen years ago. Right after she f*ckin’ denied you, I had your bitch up against a wall, a hand on her tit, two fingers up inside, and my tongue shoved so far down her throat I could taste her heart beatin’. Bitch loved it, was ready to give it up right f*ckin’ there. Didn’t even remember your f*ckin’ name ’cause she’s pantin’ mine. Her first f*ck, got that, too. Stripped her naked and f*cked her in an alleyway in the pourin’ rain. Had her f*ckin’ beggin’ me for it.”

Frankie sucked in so much air Deuce felt the world go dry. Time to sucker punch. He slammed his elbow into Frankie’s chest, simultaneously grabbing the barrel of the gun, and then he grabbed Frankie’s arm and twisted, wrenching him to the ground. With one hand gripping Frankie’s forearm, he put his boot on the f*cker’s shoulder and f*cking yanked. Crazy f*cker didn’t even scream when his shoulder dislocated. Didn’t even flinch.

Crazy. So f*cking crazy.

Pressing Frankie’s own gun into his forehead, he leaned down over him.

“Know how I know I had her first? Aside from her being tighter than a motherf*ckin’ vice? Bitch fell to her knees after she caught fire and sucked her own * blood off my cock. Didn’t even know what she was doin’, but bitch f*ckin’ licked my shit clean and let me blow in her mouth. So it don’t matter how many times you been takin’ that ride ’cause I f*ckin’ own that shit. You can choke on that while your brains are leakin’ all over the place.”

“If you kill me,” Frankie said quietly, eerily calm, “you’ll kill Eva.”

He blinked.

“What?”

“Eva. I die, she dies.”

“How do you f*ckin’ figure?”

He grinned. “As a weddin’ present, I put a f*ckin’ hit on her. I die, she dies. Bitch by my side in life, bitch by my side in death. Way it should be.”

He. Just. Stared.

Stared.

There wasn’t a whole lot in this f*cked-up world that could shock him. He’d seen so much shit in the forty-eight years he’d been alive, most of which had all happened to him personally. And it had happened so often that when he came across some pretty f*cked-up shit, he wasn’t surprised. But this—Frankie telling him in all seriousness that he’d put a hit on Eva, his lifelong obsession, his motherf*cking wife—had shocked the f*cking shit out of him.

It also told him that Frankie needed to die. He just didn’t know how to take care of that with Eva’s life on the line. Yet.

With Frankie’s gun still trained on Frankie, he pulled out his cell phone and called Mick. Two by two, his boys began appearing at his side, forming a circle around Frankie. He held his palm up, silently telling them not to take Frankie out.

“Get up, you sick f*ck,” Ripper growled.

Frankie got to his feet, his arm hanging limply at his side. He turned his back on them and positioned the side of his body against the house. With a heave and a shove, his shoulder popped back in its socket. Everyone stared. Fucker had balls of steel.

Rubbing his shoulder, he focused on Ripper. “Nice face, f*ckwad. I were you I woulda just let me finish you off. Now you gotta go ’round life lookin’ like Freddy f*ckin’ Krueger.”

Ripper’s gun hand started shaking. Jase grabbed his wrist and lowered his arm.

Frankie shook his head, smirking. “Fuckin’ bitches, the lot of you. Cryin’ ’bout scars and missin’ eyes like little f*ckin’ girls.”

Frankie turned to him. “So I’ve been gettin’ Horsemen sloppy seconds all these years. Whore coulda least picked an MC prez worth f*ckin’.”

Furious, he took a step forward.

Mick’s hand came down on his shoulder and squeezed. “He’s baitin’ us, Prez,” he whispered. “Crazy f*ck wants one of us to step to him.”