Bitter Kind of Love: Prairie Devils MC Romance (Outlaw Love) (24 page)

“Enjoy your fucked up triumph now, cunt. Because when we get through with your guys, you're gonna wish you'd kicked my nuts a whole lot harder.” He drew his knife, anger flashing in his eyes while mine stayed fearless. “What I really want is to skin your ass myself, just as soon as Hatter's done with you.”

“Do it,” I grunted, hissing the words through clenched teeth.

He stared at me for a second, stroking his chin. “I got it now. Looks like I've been using the wrong fucking approach...”

He broke the iron gaze first. Thank God. My relief instantly melted when he walked away, circling Saffron instead. He jerked her head back by her brunette hair, running the flat edge of the knife up her neck instead.

Shit!
I started to struggle, rocking in the chair without even realizing how stupid and hopeless it was. Crap quality or not, the old wood and the cords did their job, holding me in place.

“I know you don't give a fuck about your own life, babe. So I'm gonna tear hers up first. Right after we get done with your guys and that pissant named Stinger.” He turned the knife inward, baring his teeth as he raked it across her skin.

Saffron shrieked against her rag as hot blood danced along the blade. It slid down her throat, pooling near her breasts. Scary, but not enough to be life threatening.

Asshole was playing with us. Screwing with us both.

“Bastard!” I screamed, kicking as hard as I could against the new cords around my legs.

If I could've picked the chair up and thrown myself at him, I'd have done it in a heartbeat. The demon was right: watching Saffron's torture was far worse than him doing it to me.

Worse? It'd gone to pure crap across the board.

This was worse than being captured by the Rams, worse than the constant worry about what I'd gotten myself into. I wanted Stinger here so bad it hurt. I wanted him to put this sick brute down without a shred of mercy.

Nero stopped after he'd left a straight savage line across her cleavage, dangerously close to her throat. My whole face felt like it was going to explode, blood so hot I couldn't stand it. I rocked my hands until I hurt, fighting the rope, not caring how it scraped my wrists.

I had to stay alive. Focused. I couldn't let my mind shut down again, wiping everything out. I wouldn't let the amnesia return – even if I had to watch Saffron and others die in front of me.

I remembered Sting's face. I tried to remember my Dad, holding tight to all the memories, everything I had.

Just breathe. Breathe deep. No matter how bad it gets, you can't let your mind black out.

My thoughts weren't very reassuring. Nero growled as Shark walked over, getting a strong grip on his wrist.

“Prez? What the fuck? I thought we weren't gonna hurt these bitches 'til –“

“Fuck.” Nero reared up, staring at what he'd done. “Blot this shit up and rinse her off. It's not like she'll bleed out. Those fucks won't know shit and she won't tell them a fucking thing either.”

“What are you?” I whispered, forcing myself to look him in the eyes.

My brain didn't want to compute the psycho death I was seeing, the walking murder this man represented.

Nero's expression was so cold it was hard to even see the evil. It was like looking into a predator's face, a thing running on pure instinct, beyond right and wrong. The freaks and ghouls I used to draw had more humanity than he did.

“I'm the President of this fucking club,” he said matter-of-factly. “Helluva lot better than being a weak little whore.”

He paced closer, pushing his face against mine. His breath stank and I twisted away, especially when he donned another twisted, emotionless smile.

“You think you're more than that, don't you?” He turned his head to Saffron. “Both you cunts. Listen to me: you sluts are fucking tools to me, and nothing more. Better get off your high horse, princess, before I whip its ass and you fall off and break your neck. None of this shit would be your problem if your daddy hadn't been so successful fucking people over.”

“You don't know shit.” My turn to spit in his face.

Nero stood tall, still wearing his crooked smile, slowly wiping his face. I closed my eyes, ready for him to whack me across the face. Getting knocked cold right now would've saved me from hearing Saffron whimpering next to me.

My soul bled for her.

“Suit yourself, cunt. It's not my job to make you repent for daddy's sins before this shit's done. And it'll be over before you know it.” He took several steps backward before turning to me again. “You really ought to take a good look at me. When we're through, I'm the only person in the world who's gonna remember your snotty ass. I'll think about the way you fucked me over, and how I fucked you back harder, every time we hit your daddy's routes. You're not a human being anymore, bitch. You're a means to an end, and a very temporary one too.”

I wasn't responding anymore. Even his men seemed to keep their distance. Guess the severe, strangely calm threats were too weird for them too.

I was too exhausted for more insults, half-blind with anger, trying not to go insane each time Saffron made a little noise. Insulting the asshole wouldn't do any good. Neither would rubbing my wrists and ankles raw. Houdini himself couldn't have escaped this crap.

Nero staggered away, toward the backroom where they'd set up whatever terrible surprises they had waiting for the Devils. Outside, the wind had really picked up, blowing the loose mountain snow around the windows.

Opening my eyes, I looked at Saffron and instantly regretted it. She wasn't whimpering or crying or shaking any more. Her head was rolled back and she was deathly still, faint salty lines on her cheeks where hot tears rolled down them.

If the wound he'd given her healed before the wedding, she'd be lucky.

Hell, we'd both be falling to our knees and kissing fortune's feet if we left this place alive.

Watching him savage her right in front of me tore at the confidence. I fixed my eyes to the window, trying to look through the scrawny animal blocking my view. Hatter tittered out the window like the lunatic he was, humming some inane, off tune, and ridiculously creepy ditty to himself.

God help me, I shuddered.

All I could think about was
him,
cursing my old stupidity and my doubts. Nero and his killers were one more brutal example of why Stinger did what he did.

The barbarian I saw in my dreams was the hero after all, and I was too stupid to recognize it until now.

Shit, right now, I didn't care if I had to watch him cut their throats in front of me.

I wanted to see the killer in him fight for me, just like the dark warrior I saw in my dreams, a champion so ruthless he'd leave these assholes begging for their lives before he sent them to hell. It's amazing and scary what want, hatred, and a little fear can do to a girl's brain.

Come on, Sting. Where are you? Is this what I get for doubting you?

I kept chewing on that question the entire time while the sky grew dark. It was all I could do to keep myself from panicking and blocking out everything as we both suffered at the edge of the frozen world.

I
heard the crash in the office first and went running. Sounded like the whole fucking clubhouse was falling down.

When I got to the door, I half-expected to find Blaze buried underneath a pile of rubble. Instead, I found him standing in the middle of the carnage he'd created, red faced and breathing pure fire. His knuckles were scratched bloody.

“Christ! What the fuck set off the dynamite?” I was still eyeing the scene. Everything from his desk to the filing cabinet was crashed on the floor, or dented and leaning, ready to fall over after being hit by the tornado he'd created.

“Round up all the bros. We need to go, Sting. Right. Fucking. Now.” He walked fast, pushing past me and heading for the garage.

I ran after him. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Is this about wherever you sent Smokey and Stone an hour ago?”

Blaze stopped near the bar, jerking his hand into one pocket. He pulled out his phone, spun, and pressed it into my chest after tapping a few keys.

“Read it and move your ass. Just fucking listen to me for once.” He was gone, swinging the door open and heading straight for the big vaults where we kept the guns.

I saw paper clenched in his other hand, the faint outline of the map the Slinger's wanted. Fuck.

Then I looked at the text messages. The replies were furious and badly written.

FOUND UR OLD LADYS TRUCK. GONE. BOTH GIRLS. GLASS BUSTED OUT. COPS SWARMING IT. LOOKING FOR A TOW.

“Fuck!” My scream echoed through the clubhouse like a stray bullet.

My heart sank to my guts and then shot up, blood turning hot, red hot rage lighting up my blood. I knew Saffron invited Alice out that morning from the messages she'd sent me.

It was bad enough having the Prez's woman captured by those motherfuckers. But now they'd gone one step further and made it personal, taking mine, stealing the girl I'd sworn my fucking life to protect.

I stuffed the phone in my pocket, then pressed both hands to my head, compressing my skull.

It was all I could do to avoid wrecking more shit in the clubhouse when I needed my energy. I needed it for the fucks who'd hit me deep.

Fucking up close and savage, sinking their fangs into my soul. I had to lean on the wall as I started to shake, heart pumping pure adrenaline. If it wasn't for Tank coming up, looking all confused, my fists would've started putting holes in the fucking wall.

“What the fuck's going on here, boss? Why're you and the Prez going totally fucking –“

“They've got Alice! They took her, brother!” I jumped up, grabbing at his cut, regaining my balance with the grip. “Alice and Saffron both...taken by those goddamned jackals...I need to find Blaze...”

“Shit!” Tank grabbed me before I could storm off, heading for the bikes and the guns.

I struggled against him like a mad man as he held me tight. My brain was fucking rabid, and I wanted to punch right through him, through anything holding me back a second longer from going after my entire universe.

“Easy, boss! Just take it fucking easy. We'll get this shit done. But we need to keep our cool.”

One more jerk and I was free. Tank grunted, but he didn't come after me while I headed for the door. I turned back at the last second.

“Round up all the others! We gotta get the crew together and ship out. Can't waste a fucking second...”

“Got it.”

I was out in the cold after a quick stop by the hangers to grab my jacket, throwing it over my cut. The frigid air in the garage didn't do shit to freeze up my veins. Tank was right, one more reminder that he was pretty damned smart for being such a tight lipped giant.

Just now, though, nobody's golden wisdom was gonna settle the firestorm seething in my veins. Every time my brain couldn't believe it, couldn't fully grasp what the fuck was happening, the harsh venom in my blood brought me back to life, straight back to staring at the awful fucking reality.

I fucked up royal. The whole club did, but it was Blaze and I bearing all the consequences.

Those fuckers lulled us into lazy scouting. We'd been chasing them too long, letting our guard down, expecting them to pop up at the clubhouse. We started to think they wouldn't come for awhile, maybe not until spring.

Rubbing my eyes, I fought the headache turning my head into a pressure cooker. My ears were fucking ringing with how absolutely
wrong
we'd all been. Shit, going after them like Blaze wanted would've been better than this.

Fuck.
And I'd been too lax with my baby too, swept up in club business, barely coming home in time to get a few hours of shut eye and hold her tight.

When I thought about how I might never hold her again, I wanted to get on my bike and go. Fuck waiting for the rest of the brothers. I raced past Blaze and headed for my locker, where all my shit was stashed for action, a heartbeat away from saddling up and raining down hot death in an instant. We organized our gear for situations exactly like this, when the only thing we were able to think about was neutralizing the threat.

Slower, calmer, my hands freezing, I rifled through my shit. I fished out my Magnum and replaced the nine millimeter on my belt. This little cannon would turn anybody's head into cherry mush when it found its mark.

Perfect for this job.

Because when we caught up with the Slingers, it wasn't just a matter of taking them out, making sure they couldn't do anymore damage. By taking two of our women, they might as well have pulled down their pants and pissed on our colors while stabbing through our ribs.

This blow went straight to the heart. And when this club gets hit, where it really counts, nobody's coming home 'til the fucks who've done it get shredded to nothing.

All the brothers assembled within minutes, Tank urging things along. We stood in a circle in the garage to hear Blaze. A weird heatwave wound through my body. The expression on their faces told me I wasn't the only one out here burning up despite the arctic chill.

“Truck's been towed,” Smokey said. “Took some wrangling to get the badges off our asses, but they know where their money's coming from. We'll have it repaired and scrubbed from public record, no questions asked.”

Blaze nodded, and then shook his head. “Whatever, bro. Couldn't care less about that shit. I gotta get Saffron home.”

“What's the plan, boss? How're we gonna hit 'em?”

“Charge in and knock their fucking teeth out,” I growled, thinking about Alice. Fuck, I couldn't stop my fists from shaking at my sides like rattlesnakes when I imagined her suffering with those pricks. “It's the only way. We can be smart but we gotta be direct. We're already losing precious time.”

“Sting's right.” I looked up, surprised to see Blaze agreeing with me. “The asshole, Nero, sent me a text from Saffron's phone right after I got off the horn and found out about the girls. We know what he wants...”

Blaze jerked his hand up in the air, shaking the map. “I'll give that motherfucker exactly what he wants, face to face.”