Forged: A Devil's Spawn MC Novel (25 page)

In saying that, I totally get this is going to be a big issue for the MC. Not because they give a shit whether he lives or dies, actually I’m pretty sure this guy is ending up as fish food after they’re finished with him anyway, but they will care that they didn’t get a chance to end him themselves. But faced with limited viable options, and I’ll have you know I choose life, mine and Macy’s above all else, right now I don’t really have a choice now do I?

Feeling the safety that only my SIG Sauer P226 can bring me in a situation like this being tucked into the band of my almost non-existent thong, I pray now that none of the guys come through the doorway behind Demon until I’ve gotten a clear shot off. Macy obviously knows her way around a gun, because in less than five seconds I feel her efficiently flick the safety off covering the sound by pretending to discreetly coughing into her free hand.

Deciding there’s nothing to be done shy of forcing his hand, I use all the saccharine sweetness I can must when I address him.

“Look, I’m going to level with you because it looks like we’re in a standoff of sorts.” His gaze sharpens and his hand tightens on his guns grip, but I don’t let that deter me. “You want something from me, and in return I want something from you.” Noting his interest I go on to say, “You let my friend here go, and I’ll be happy to give you the best private dance you’ve ever had. How does that sound?”

I highly doubt he’ll rise to the bait, which he proves only a second later but it was worth a try.

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen. Fuck no. That bitch can watch, and if I’ve got anything left to give her when I’m done with you, I’ll give it to her too.”

I can’t help it, I snort at his declaration which causes him to raise his gun wielding arm back in line with my chest. It’s at times like these I curse myself for not being able to control myself better, but come on. Does he really think any woman will just lay down and let him take what he’s so graciously offering? I don’t fucking think so, and I tell him as much.

“Hmm, let me see. How does fuck no sound?” Narrowing my eyes giving him the best glare I can muster I say, “Listen buddy, I don’t know what your damage is and I don’t care, but you’ve got about a minute and a half tops to walk, run, hop, or skip your ass out of here before all hell breaks loose, because when it does and if you’re still standing here you won’t be going anywhere any time soon. I don’t really care how you do it to be honest, all I care about is you turning the fuck around and going back to whatever rock you crawled out from under.” 

Muttering under his breath something about mouthy bitches and teaching them a lesson, everything that happens next happens in the blink of an eye. His finger pulling back the trigger. The discharge of his gun. The bullet hitting the tissue of my shoulder sending a burning path fire following in its wake. Macy’s scream. My gripping my gun, pulling it free, aiming, and firing two rounds dead center into Demon’s forehead. And finally the door behind Demon’s slumped over form bursting open and the room filling with super-sized men, all occurs in less than sixty seconds.

Sometimes I think about how surreal it is that in a fraction of a second you can end someone’s life. That the human body, capable of withstanding horrors most people can’t imagine, can be brought down by one small, fast travelling, lethal missile. I’ve experienced the loss of life more often than most, but it still blows my mind or his in this case, that human life is so fragile. Thinking on it, maybe now’s not the right time to have an in depth philosophical internal monologue if the faces of the slack-jawed men staring at me is anything to go by.

Rolling on to my side from my back I do a quick assessment of my injuries, coming to the conclusion that while it does indeed hurt like a bitch and I need to wrap the wound to stop the blood loss, it’s not fatal so there’s no reason to lie around and take a nap or cry it out. Groaning I sit up and reach for the towel I threw on the floor by my makeup table using wrapping my shoulder, and making sure to tuck the spare length of towel into the section of dressing closest to the exit wound to stanch the flow of blood.

Pushing up off the floor painfully I curse a blue streak at the jarring movement that sends shards of fire through my shoulder, and face the men still staring at me gaping. Gesturing to the floor in front of them I say,

“Sorry about that, but while you and your friends were having high tea with the classy ladies of Jiggles in there, I had to take care of your little problem and save our asses.” Cocking my eyebrow I ask, “Can someone lend me their phone? As you can see I don’t have any pockets, and I figure big brother is going to want to hear about this one from me. He might take it better than hearing it from one of you boys.”

And that is no joke. If any of the men in front of me currently standing around like mannequins were to call Brookes, he’d be on the next flight here to rain holy hell fire down on their asses, and that is something all parties would do best to avoid if you ask me. Trust me, I’d know. I’ve been on the receiving end of his ire more often than not, and it’s not my idea of a good time.

Tank comes out of his stupor first opening and closing his mouth a few times before requesting,

“Fucking hell, woman. Are you okay? Nothing irreparable?” At my nod then subsequent head shake he looks dubious, but takes my word for it. “You think you can hold off calling Brookes for a bit? Just till we take out the trash and secure the area. All I’m asking for is an hour tops.”

“Yeah, I can do that,” I agree quickly. It’s not like my bullet wound is going anywhere anyway. “I still need the phone though. I’ve got another brother that deserves a phone call, and this one needs to come from me too.” Looking at Macy I address her now instead of the group as a whole. “You know it’s true, Racy Macy. He deserves to know you’re okay at the very least.”

At my tone I know she wants to argue, but she doesn’t. She keeps her mouth firmly closed thinning it into a fine line. Before I can take Tank’s outstretched phone, I find myself pulled gently into a firm set of muscular arms that has me inhaling sharply at the recognition of the man they’re attached to. I’d know these arms anywhere. And while they’ve gotten dramatically bigger, he still feels like the same Rob that held me when I cried on his shoulder a decade and a half ago.

Burying his head in my neck, his nose nuzzles the underside of my ear as he breathes me in too.

“Scared the shit of out me hearing that gunshot go off. I couldn’t get down here fast enough, Aly,” he says softly. Pulling his head from my neck, Rob rests his forehead against mine. “Don’t ever do that shit again, yeah? I think I lost about ten years off my life, babe.”

What do I say to that? So with no clue how to respond I reach my arm around him, take the phone Tank is offering, and draw away from him slightly. Rob looks upset for a moment, but when he sees the reason for my withdrawal from him he takes a step backwards giving me enough room to raise my good arm and dial, but not enough room that he’s out of touching distance.

Punching in his number I dial Liam, and hope like hell his head doesn’t explode before he sees Macy again. Flicking a quick glance at her before hitting send, I say to Tank,

“Watch her, she’s a slippery one.” It’s said with humor. Humor I know she gets when she graces me with a small smile that reaches all the way to her eyes.

Pressing send, I listen as it rings twice before my little brother answers,

“What’s doing, Tank? My sister okay? She fucking better be or I’d hate to be you, brother.”

I can’t help but giggle at the gruff voice of my youngest brother. It feels like yesterday he was learning to ride a bike, and now he’s all grown up. Sighing I set him straight.

“And what would you do if I wasn’t little brother,” I ask with emphasis on the little part of that question.

“Thank fuck. Thank fuck, you’re okay. B and B,” he says using his abbreviation for our oldest brothers Brookes and Brandt. I know, original right? “Have been blowing up my phone. If they call one more time it’s going to initiate its self-destruct sequence and fucking off itself I swear.” He says grunting the last part.

“I’m whole and accounted for. Well, that is if you don’t count the new ventilation hole I’m sporting, but it’s a through-and-through so all’s good here, Li. I’ve got something…”

I don’t get another word out before he yells down the phone line for all to hear.

“You’ve got a fucking what? Please, please, please, tell me you’re not calling to ask me to call the two asshats to inform them their baby sister looks like Swiss cheese.” His voice is hopeful, but it also carries a thread of rage I’m getting used to hearing from my youngest sibling. “I’m serious you cold hearted bitch. If you expect me to call them and tell them you’re rocking a new body-mod you’re fucking dreaming. Call them your damn self.”

Laughing at his description of a GSW, I gasp at the pain that radiates through my shoulder causing me to lean into Rob so my knees don’t buckle.

“No, you insensitive prick, I’m not calling for you to do my dirty work. When have I ever asked you to do that shit for me anyway?” Shaking my head I say, “No, forget it, don’t answer that. Are you sitting down, oh so ungrateful brother of mine? Because I really think you should be sitting down for this.”

“Just spit it out so you can go and get your ass stitched up would you? You can’t bleed out on the floor, or B and B will kick my ass even worse for talking and not demanding you seek the appropriate level of medical assistance.” He snarls. And he’s not wrong, because that’s exactly what they’d do. I can hear it now.

“Fine,” I huff. “When I was busy shaking my moneymaker I ran into someone I thought you’d want to come and pick up, hence the call brother of mine.”

“Do not tell me you were matchmaking at a strip club. You’re not my mom, and I highly fucking doubt she asked you to comb the underbelly of the world of women to find me a wife. Not even she’s that desperate to see me tied down. And seriously, don’t make me call her and tell her what you’ve been doing, Aly. Because I will if you’re fucking with me right now.”

“Oh, shut it, asshole. I wasn’t betrothing your stupid ass to a stripper if that’s what you mean. I found you a friend while I was here though, and I think this is a friend you’re going to want to get to know better.” I know I shouldn’t fuck with him, but what can I say? It’s just too easy to rile him up. Fun too.

My statement earns me a gasp from Macy, but chuckles all round from the rest of the men in the room, and a broad smile from me. Damn. I do find myself highly entertaining sometimes.

“Cut the shit, Aly. You need to see a doctor, and I’m about five seconds from hanging up on you so I can call Mom, so out with it.”

Pouting dramatically, which earns another round of chuckles I decided to put him out of his misery.

“Have you been missing something? I don’t know, say something you lost about seven years ago.” Radio silence. He’s so quiet I can’t even hear him breathing on the other end of the phone, which prompts me to say, “Lee, you there, honey?”

“What’d you just say?” His voice is hoarse and filled with emotion. So much so my heart breaks at the sound of my little brother in pain.  

Tears fill Macy’s eyes, and if I had to hazard a guess, my baby brother isn’t doing much better.

“Two choices, Lee. One I bring her home with me and you can come see her there. Or number two, she comes with me to the hospital and you can pick her up there when you come visit you’re super-awesome big sister. Your choice, honey. What do you want me to do?”

Ragged breathing that’s more like panting reaches my ears, and I know it’s taking everything he’s got in reserve to hold it together.

“You do not, not even under threat of fucking death, take your eyes off her for a second. I’m serious, Aly. Dead serious. Eyes on her till I get there. I’m leaving now, I’m about twenty minutes out from Clearwater hospital so I’ll meet you in the ER. I don’t give a fuck if you have to handcuff her to the gurney you take her fucking with you till I get there, yeah?”

I can hear keys jingling, the sound of feet pounding pavement, and finally the roar of his bikes engine reach my ears just as I reply,

“You got it, Lee. Ride safe and breathe, honey. She’s here and safe. Everything’s going to be okay now.”

I can only hope that holds true.

“Who needs a therapist when I have friends like you?”

-
        
Rotten eCard

A woman I don’t know and have never met before bled for me tonight, and for the life of me I can’t come up with one single thing to say to her that will convey how grateful I am that she saved me from my worst nightmare. Anything I think of sounds so small in comparison to the sacrifice she made for me. Add to that her brothers are currently storming the hospital like raging bulls, which has my anxiety over how to put into words my gratitude at an all-time high.

Tobias tried to tell me anything I said would be fine. That she was a strong woman and wouldn’t want platitudes and offers of help for what she’d done. He was convinced that taking Demon off the streets and stopping him from hurting anyone else was enough for her, but I couldn’t be swayed. I wanted to tell her what she’d done for my family, and in turn what she’d done for me was the greatest gift she could ever have given me. I wanted to tell her my children, for the first time ever, will have a mother that isn’t scared of her own shadow. I wanted her to know that with him gone I would now finally be able to heal completely. I have no idea if she even wants to know that much about a woman she doesn’t know, but I feel compelled to tell her regardless.

Hearing the door to the room the nurses have settled her in bang open, my eyes widen at the man filling the doorway. Tall, standing at, at least six-foot-five. Broad chested with heavily muscled arms, legs, well, everything really, the man standing before me looks like a walking Adonis. Dark hair cut close to his scalp is as close to black as it can be without it actually being black, and he shares the same strange, but intriguing violet-grey eyes as his sister.

Where Alysia only has two tattoos from what I’ve seen, this man is covered in them. Every free inch of exposed skin has colorful ink depicting various symbols, scenes, and script, half of which I can’t determine the origin of. Taking in his build, the chiseled planes of his face, the heavy five o’clock shadow he’s sporting, and the scowl on his face, I’d have to say this is the most attractive man I’ve ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on. My husband aside that is.

A feminine snort brings me back to the here and now, and has my head snapping to the bed Alysia is currently resting in. There is amusement written all over her face when I have the courage to meet her eyes, which has a smile breaking out across her face. Her voice sounds husky when she speaks, and has the room, which is filled to the brim with bikers, and Rob laughing. Everyone except the man in the doorway I can only assume is her oldest brother, Brookes. No, that man is not laughing, he’s scowling intensely at her.

“Lighten up, big brother, you’re scaring the locals. And you’re interrupting Tilly here,” she says gesturing at me with her arm that isn’t immobilized in a sling, “deciding what she’s going to say about me getting my ass shot.”

Taking a step forwards I notice offhandedly that Brookes is even more handsome in the light. Until he speaks, then he’s just freaking terrifying.

“Shut the hell up.” Taking another step he barks, “What have I told you? Jesus fucking Christ, Aly. How many times have I told you if the situation’s hot you call for backup?”

Watching Alysia’s face harden and Rob step closer to her bedside, the tension in the room immediately increases. So much so the bikers that were previous lounging around casually have abandoned their positions and gone rock solid at his tone. Flicking her eyes around the room Alysia laughs, which has her visibly flinching from the pain as she addresses the men.

“Stand down, soldiers. I can handle the big bad brother and his nasty temper.” Settling her eyes back to her brother she says, “You may have told me that once or twice, but do you honestly think if I had any other choice but to turn into human cannon fodder I wouldn’t have taken it?” Arching one manicured eyebrow at him she dares him to answer, but cleverly he knows when to keep his mouth shut. “So, before you come in here acting like the big man on campus and barking out orders, and by the way I’m fine thanks for asking, I’ll be back on deck in less than a week, boss. If that’s what you were wondering that is.”

At that Brookes does laugh. It’s a sound that’s rusty even to my ears, so I can only giggle at the look of shock plastered on Alysia’s face and assume it’s not something she hears all too often either. Gazing around the room, Brookes’ eyes focus on the tiny blonde currently taking up residence on a chair almost hidden in the corner. He looks confused at her presence before he gets a small nod from Liam, which has a devastating smile breaking out across his face.

“Macy? Racy Macy? Is that you sweetheart?” The corners of her lips tip up slightly causing Brookes to smile even wider. “Get over here and give me some sugar, girl.”

As she goes to stand and do his bidding, a large hand presses down on her shoulder accompanied by an animalistic growl.

“Mine. Get your own, asshole.”

Chuckling at his younger brother Brookes says,

“We’ll catch up later, sweetheart. When you can break away from the kid, yeah?”

“Not gonna fucking happen,” Liam grumbles defensively.

Breaking into their banter Alysia snaps at them both.

“So what do we owe the pleasure of your company from up on high, oh mighty one? We humble plebs aren’t dressed for a visit from the king and ruler of all the world, so get the lecture over with so I can go back to sleep. My shoulder’s killing me and I’m starving. Not to mention I don’t want to be awake when they bring the breakfast cart around, because then they’ll get some twisted idea that I’ll eat that shit, and we all know that’s not going to happen.”

Making his way to the bed Brookes maneuvers Alysia until she’s resting in the crook of his arm kissing the top of her head in a move that’s sweet, and protective all at the same time.

“Brandt will be here within the hour, and Finn, Macon, Adrian, and Landen aren’t far behind him. Mom’s gonna kill us when she finds out no one called her, but I’m leaving that shit for you to do. I’ve had enough scares after today to last me another lifetime, so when you’re ready you’ve got to make the call, cupcake,” he prompts gently.

I swear, if Priss, Kendall, Lou, and V were here they would swoon at the tenderness in his voice. As it is, it almost has my knees buckling earning me a hard glare from Tobias in the process.

“Uh-huh,” Alysia mumbles. “I’ll get right on that, in let’s say, um, never. Yeah, that sounds perfect. Never.”

Chuckling he buries his head in the crown of her hair. It feels like we should leave. That it’s wrong to watch such a special moment between brother and sister, but with Liam making no move to exit everyone else stays put too. And by the look on Rob’s face as he watches the pair, he doesn’t intend to leave any time soon either. The look on his face is softer than any I’ve ever seen him wear before. That includes the ones he’s given me in the past, which leads me to wonder what is his part in all this? And how does he know the Patricks’ so well?

“How’s the leg? Giving you any trouble yet?” If I wasn’t listening closely I’d have missed the genuine concern in his voice and thought it to be just another question, but I am listening and it has me curious to what he’s talking about. It’s not my business, but I’m nosy. What can I say? I’ve tried to turn off that particular character flaw, but I haven’t have much success as yet.

Wiggling her toes Alysia notices my interest, and gives me another broad smile.

“I was in an accident when I was stationed in Iraq,” she says her voice devoid of emotion. “Blackhawk crash. Those big bastards carry a lot of fuel, and when it ignites it burns hotter than hell fire. My leg, hip, and lower rib cage were engulfed, I made it out, just not with the same amount of skin as I went in with.”

Macy gasps a horrified sound. Liam groans like he was expecting her answer. Brookes just looks pissed again. And Rob growls, not unlike the way Liam had earlier over Macy.

“Jesus, Fuck, Aly. Way to share with the group, cupcake.”

Grinning at him Alysia snorts again.

“It’s what happened, boss. No use sugar coating it. Scar tissue isn’t pretty like the frosting on those cupcakes you love, so why bother packaging it as something it’s not. I’m alive and that’s all that matters, so now it’s out there we can move on to happier things like what my next assignment from the big boss man is.”

“Not funny, Aly. You’re taking leave as of right now, so don’t be pissed when Brandt storms in here tell you you’re off duty and on vacation as of T minus…”

Brookes doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence before an equally scarily pissed off, handsome carbon copy of himself walks into the room and finishes it for him.

“Right the fuck now, Aly. You’re off as of right the fuck now,” he decrees. “Are you fucking insane? Do you have a death wish you haven’t let us in on, little one, because I’m having trouble understanding why you’d willingly put yourself in danger every time our fucking backs are turned. Are you having women’s issues? A hormonal break from reality? Do you need tissues for those issues?”

Alysia’s face is priceless, and I have to say, if she wasn’t so livid at his line of questioning I’d probably laugh too. Shoving herself upright on a hiss she gives him a frown, which is more than a little unnerving considering what she’s proven herself capable of.

“Quite possibly,” she shrugs appearing not to care he’d just embarrassed her in front of a room full of at least fifteen men.

I’m not buying it though. I don’t know her well, but even I can see the mischievous gleam in her eye that promises payback of the worst kind.

“How’s that little problem of yours going, big brother? You know the one we talked about in detail last week when you cried like a baby on the phone to me for an hour.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Brandt warns. “I don’t give a shit if you’re laid up in bed, I’ll kick your ass if you say a word, Aly. I mean it.”

Smirking at him Alysia proves their point. She has absolutely no self-preservation whatsoever.

“Oh, lighten up. I’m sure there a lots of men at your advanced age that have those sort of issues, B. There’s new breakthroughs every day to help men with your condition. Don’t despair, where there’s a will and money there’s a way.”

Advancing on her, Brandt doesn’t make it far when he’s stopped by the massive wall that is Rob.

“She’s a pain in the ass, I get it, but you don’t want to do that, man.”

Brandt assesses the man I thought was a stranger to him, and goes from wanting to kill his sister to hugging Rob in the blink of an eye.

“Fuck, it’s good to see you, brother. You look good,” he says taking a step back to take him in. “Aside from the busted nose and black eyes that is.”

And with that the mood in the room is lifted, and the undercurrent of anger obliterated. Deciding it’s now or never, I ask,

“Would everyone mind giving me a minute with, Alysia, alone?”

I didn’t expect they would relent as easily as they do, but I’m met with chin lifts and sympathetic pats on the arm as they file out the door. Brookes stops in front of me giving me a critical once over before giving me some measure of reassurance.

“My sister doesn’t do anything she doesn’t want to, sweetheart. Bear that in mind when you say what you think you have to. As hard as that woman pretends to be,” he says gesturing at the bed, “she’s as soft as the next woman when it comes down to it, yeah?”

I smile and nod my head watching him follow his brothers and Tobias into the hallway. Tobias grins at me and shuts the door, leaving me alone with the woman I owe my peace of mind to.

I don’t turn around until she calls my name and asks me to pull up a seat beside her. I’m still unsure of what to say, but I do as she asks.

“I don’t bite, Tallulah. Well, actually that’s a lie, I do but you’re not my type, so sit your ass down, take a deep breath, then do it again and keep doing it until you’ve calmed down, okay?”

Six deep breaths later I admit,

“I don’t know how to thank you, and I’m not the sort of person that feels comfortable not repaying a favor, let alone one this huge.”

“Meathead one already told you I don’t do anything I don’t want to, and he wasn’t wrong. Let it go, Tallulah. Let it all go and be happy. That’s the best repayment you could give me,” she replies without hesitation.

“But that’s not enough. Me being happy doesn’t make up for the pain you’re in, or the suffering you’ll go through during your recovery. There has to be something I can do for you,” I implore.