Viper's Kiss (Back Down Devil MC #8)(74)

“Oh, f*ck,” Jett said.

He moved from the bar to help out.

When someone attacked someone in Back Down Devil MC there was no need to ask questions. Right or wrong didn’t f*cking matter. Nobody touched the MC. Nobody.

The other guy saw Jett coming and turned, lifting the pool stick. “Come on, *. Come on.”

So that’s what Jett did. He lunged over the pool table, clearing it, and tackling the other guy to the ground.

Didn’t expect that, did you?

Jett then used his elbows and pounded at the guy’s face a few times. He rolled off the guy and stood up, reaching back for a pool stick of his own. Blaine was getting back to his feet, and Jace was wrapped with some * in a black t-shirt and tattoos.

The place was bustling with screams, yells, and people trying to break up the fighting.

Jett poked the first guy in the back of the head with his pool stick. The guy turned and showed the cracked stub of his stick.

“Broke your stick,” Jett said and smiled.

“You f*ckers…”

Jett smacked the guy in the face with the pool stick. The guy screamed like a girl. Jett broke the stick over his knee and then stabbed the guy in the shoulder with the broken end. That quickly ended the fight. Well, that and the fact that Blaine had taken out his gun.

People liked the fighting but not the intense violence.

Bunch of pussies.

Jett kicked the second guy in the ribs and left him on the ground.

“Okay then,” Jett said. “I think we’re good here.”

“Get the f*ck out!” the cute as hell bartender yelled from behind the bar. “I’m calling the police!”

“Bitch,” Jett said.

Jace touched his lip and was bleeding. Blaine stretched his back and kept his gun handy. Jett walked around the pool table and made a line for the door. The three of them left the bar and went around to the side of the building where they had parked their rides.

“That was fun,” Blaine said.

“Remind me to never go out for a drink again,” Jace said. “Fucking hell.”

“What happened?” Jett asked.

“Blaine started to finger that guy’s girlfriend,” Jace said.

“Are you serious?”

“What?” Blaine asked. “She showed me her *. What was I supposed to do? She kept flashing it when I was taking my shots. So I told her if she did it again I was going to jam my fingers up her. She did it again. So I walked up to her and told her to do it again. She did it. I took two fingers and felt her out. Wet and loose. I rammed two fingers up her and she cried out. Then her boyfriend got pissed and smacked me with a pool stick.”

Jett shook his head. Here he was, in deep thought about life and all that bullshit, and Blaine was fingering some chick and starting a fight. It pissed him off, but there was nothing he could do about it now. The fight had happened and they were going to just cruise back to the clubhouse and finish up the night. There was plenty of whiskey, beer, and relievers to take care of anything the guys needed. Jett figured maybe tonight was the right time now. Grab two or three of the hottest and sluttiest relievers hanging around and let them go to town on him. Or better yet, have Blaine pull his strings with all the strippers he knew in Frelen.

“Let’s just get out of here,” Jace said. “Fuck this scene, man. I’m done with all that right now. We’re better off all together in case we get attacked again.”

Jett froze and looked over his shoulder. “What the f*ck is going to come of that mess? I feel like we’re chasing our tails.”

“Maybe we are, bro,” Jace said. “But it’s bad. Erik almost died. You see his face? He’s going to be f*cked up for the rest of his life. And that’s scary, man. He’s a loose canon as it is.”

“Hey, speaking of loose canons,” Blaine said. “My cock is a little full right now from touching that chick in there. Can we ride? I need to let one go.”

“Fucking hell, man,” Jett said.

They kept walking, and it took all of a second for Jett to realize there was something on his motorcycle.

As he got closer…

Fuck, not something. Someone.

“There’s a drunk chick on your ride,” Jace said.

“How the f*ck did you get this lucky?” Blaine asked.

The chick was literally right over the seat. Just dangling there. Feet almost touching the ground on one side, fingertips almost touching on the other. Her shirt was pulled up a little, showing some skin. She wore some tight jeans and had a nice little curvy ass.

Jett approached and smacked at her hip. “Hey, beautiful, wake the f*ck up. This ain’t your ride.”

“She could be my ride,” Blaine said.

“Hey!” Jett yelled. He smacked her ass. “Wake the f*ck up!”

The woman didn’t move.

“Christ,” Jace said. “How drunk is she? Is she f*cking dead?”

Jett felt his heart drop. That’s all he needed right now. Some chick dead on his ride. He rushed to the other side of the motorcycle and moved her hair out of the way. Dark, dirty blonde hair that was thick. Just the kind Jett liked. Her eyes were definitely shut. He stuck two fingers to her neck - nice, soft skin… - and felt for a pulse.

“She’s alive,” he said. “Pulse is fine.”