Never Have an Outlaw's Baby: Deadly Pistols MC Romance (Outlaw Love) (10 page)

Wanted nothing better than to hunker down in a nice, hot shower, before I decided to figure out how I'd un-fuck my head tonight with the usual distractions.

Lion and Tin nodded at me in the garages. They still manned the gates most of the time, even though we'd made 'em full patch a couple months ago, both the wounds they'd taken in our dustup with the Torches MC healing nicely.

“She's out there, Veep,” Tin said, pointing to the shitty, rusted blue hatchback sitting by the gate.

I marched right past them, already muttering under my breath.

What the fuck was this? Who was it? Why hadn't the bitch been smart enough to walk the fuck away after we'd finished?

Every girl in the county oughta know by now I didn't touch the same pussy twice unless it was fuckin' amazing. And it damned sure never went beyond that.

When I saw the little honey step out behind the car with her long, black hair rolling across her shoulders, my dick twitched. She held her face to the side, and I forgot all about Honey-Bee and the other bitches at the Heel, wondering if I'd found my fuck for the night without having to leave the clubhouse.

Shit, whoever the fuck she was, maybe I'd be giving her another ride on my bullet after all.

Then she looked at me, full frontal, and my blood turned to ice.

Summer. Fuckin'. Olivers.

Like a ghost who'd reached through the past, caught me by the throat, and slammed me against the pavement with the force of a thousand suns.

“Hi,” she said softly. Just husky enough to ring my ears. Like I needed another shot through the heart. “Uh, holy shit. What happened to you?”

I stepped up to her, my jaw clenched, trying to stop my heart from tearing out my ribs and slapping her in the face.

“What the fuck you doing here, Summer?”

Her face soured, causing her bottom lip to stick out.

I remembered biting it. Fuck yeah, I did.

Feeling its softness. The little curl it'd make beneath my tongue when she moaned. Tensing for the hot air rushing out her mouth, all the pleasure I swallowed, all the times I fucked her 'til she collapsed.

“I came to see you, Joker. It's been awhile. But maybe this isn't a good time...looks like you have your hands full. I can come back, whenever it's better for you.”

“Babe,” I started, and stopped. Balled my hands into fists for using that word.
Fuck!

Old habits never died easy. They died harder than most men.

Her big green eyes widened. I shook my head, coming closer, making her back up so she wouldn't touch my muddy fuckin' chest.

“Summer, ain't never a good time to see me. You oughta know. Get in your rusted out box and go the fuck home. Whatever you've got to say, I'm not hearing it.”

I kept moving. Backed her straight into her car. She stood up straight, making herself a little taller, but she still fell at least a foot short of me. Those defiant little eyes I'd rolled into the back of her head those summer nights so long ago went off like firecrackers.

“I don't care,” she said, defiant as ever. “I've been thinking about the past. About us. You told me to back off after the horrible things that happened that night. I don't blame you. But I can't stay away forever, Jackson. I haven't forgotten. I tried. I can't. I
can't
forget you.”

That shit struck deep, found its target somewhere deep inside me, and exploded. If it wasn't for the nervous tremor in her voice, I would've believed every word.

Maybe I would've grabbed her, thrown her against my chest, and held her the way I'd started to when I took those trips to Seddon for more than club biz. Maybe I would've pushed my lips on hers, searching for the spark I'd smothered for three fuckin' years, trying to find out if I was still human.

I didn't. Something about her voice was strange, off by half an octave, strained.
Off.

Something that stank like desperate bullshit.

“Jackson, please,” she whined again, when I went too long without giving her an answer. “I can't forget, I'm telling you –“

“I can, Summertime.” Pain criss-crossed her face like spiderwebs when I called her that name. “You wanna use names you really shouldn't around here, then so will I.”

Her lips popped open, shocked and kissable as ever. I pushed my palm against her mouth, held her face, silencing her.

“Go the fuck home, Summer. There's nothing here for you. The shit we had three summers ago – it's as dead as my poor fuckin' brother. So's the man you knew. Last warning you're gonna get.”

“Joker...Jackson...” She looked at me intently, her bright green eyes going dark. “Goddamn, why do you have to be so stubborn? Is it asking too much to just sit down and have a drink with me? We shared something once...something beautiful. You're hurting, and so am I, ever since you left me alone that night. We can talk this out. We can catch up. Maybe we can find each other again.”

No. Fuck no.

I reached for her shoulders and pulled her in. Pressed her against the muck caked all over me, ruining the shit outta that pretty little blouse covering up her body.

First, she gasped. Then she squirmed while I held her, fighting me, whimpering in disbelief.

“No. We. Can't,” I whispered. If she didn't understand what I said with words, then the dirt would make her.

This woman had already taken a roll in the dirt with a bastard. She'd been lucky to walk away with nothing but bitter dirt, rather than blood.

Wasn't changing. Wasn't fuckin' letting her open me up, get back in my blood, and heat everything to a thousand degrees 'til I did stupid, dangerous shit that could get her killed. Hell, maybe me and my brothers, too.

She fought with her hands, slapping my chest, trying to stop the muck from getting all over her.

Too damned late. Her fight was easy. Mine, it was all on the inside, and it burned like a nuclear fire.

Took everything I had to keep from cracking, to hold my fuckin' dick down, as soon as I felt those perfect tits I'd had a dozen times pressed up against me.

Fuck, a dozen times too many. I let go.

Summer flew backward and banged against the car door when I pushed her away.

“Fucking asshole! I drove all this way for
this
? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“You know damned well what,” I snarled, giving her one last jagged look before I turned my back.

Had to leave her. Let sleeping fuckin' dogs fuckin' lie.

Had to let her fade away one more time.

“Lion, Tin, let the woman out. Make sure she never gets back inside these gates.”

The two new brothers looked at me. Had to be watching the whole ugly scene, even if they didn't know shit about it.

“You got it, Veep,” Tin said, getting up from his bench. Both brothers disappeared behind me, heading out there to make sure the little girl I'd left behind never showed her face here again.

Wouldn't let myself look back. No goddamned regrets.

She had to stay buried. Deep in old, evil, blood soaked ground.

Same as everything else , 'til it was time for the brothers to kill the bastards who'd murdered Freddy. Even then, nobody had the full picture.

God willing, they never would. Nobody needed the fine details that ripped my fuckin' heart out, nobody except the Prez. Dust did a noble lie for the club, for me.

He'd told the boys my brother died in an accident. He'd dropped pure bullshit so we wouldn't go in hot and crazy, waging a blood war we couldn't hope to win just then.

Someday,
he'd promised.
Someday
was coming sooner, too, soon as we ironed out how to hit the Deads hard, and when.

“Fuck you! Take your hands off me. I'll go out the gate,” Summer screeched. I was almost to the club's door.

I stopped with my hand on the handle.
Don't turn around, asshole. Let her fuckin' go.

For a second, I pinched my eyes shut, listening to her tires burn rubber as she tore through the open gate. After the mind-fuck I'd given her, she'd never be back. She'd leave me to my hell, just the way it was meant to be.

Before I could pop the door, Skin opened it, staring at me from the other side. “Already done out here? That was fast. Who the fuck was she?”

Didn't say a damned word as I pushed past, shoving my muddy arm against his cut. “Aw, fuck!”

His curse echoed after me, barking through the open bar, as I continued down the hallway to the showers.

I'd need a fuck of a lot more than hot water and good whiskey to wash away all the filth today.

“
A
sshole
, asshole, fucking asshole!” I slammed my fist on the steering wheel again, adding one more muddy streak to the worn pink cover.

I couldn't believe he'd turned me away like I was nothing.

I couldn't believe I'd stood there and taken it, expecting a miracle, when I'd learned to stop believing in them years ago.

I
definitely
couldn't believe he'd rubbed his filthy body against mine, caking me in dirt, forcing me to feel those hard edges all over him one more time. The ones I'd tried so hard to forget.

For years, I'd wondered how much I'd hurt confronting him like this.

Now, I knew.

It killed me. Tore out my soul a second time, dashed it to tatters before my eyes.

God damn him. My love had turned to
hate.

If it weren't for the monster holding the gun to my head, I wouldn't have come back. Ever. But that demon, Hatch, reminded me why I was here every few hours, pinging the phone he'd left me with a text or another nasty voicemail.

He'd made himself deadly clear. It took a lot of makeup and even more aspirin to cover up the blow to my head.

Then I'd gotten in my car and driven, non-stop with Alex, stopping only for gas. We checked into the hotel this morning, where I fed him and let him nap, before finding the closest babysitter.

If Hatch were a reasonable man, I would've moaned about how much this was taking out of my pocket. Naturally, I didn't say a word, fearing what would happen if I so much as asked for a penny.

Everything was going down, down, down.

My life. My bank account. My poor, sweet baby's future, handed off to strangers while I pleaded with a man who thought nothing about shredding my heart for the second time.

I picked up Alex at the little daycare in town, ignoring the dumbfounded looks from all the women, wondering how I'd gotten smeared with mud. Then we headed back to our room, where I took a long, hot shower, ignoring the hunger pangs ripping at my stomach.

Joker wouldn't leave my head. I couldn't get over the contrast, the change in the man I once knew. Where had he gone?

He'd been replaced with a killer robot wearing his skin.

His gorgeous hazel eyes didn't shine anymore. They just glowed like dull stones, dead and cold to everything they saw.

That tragic night three years past killed both the Taylor boys – just one less literally. Joker walked the earth and rode his bike like a shell, lost to his humanity, his love, and me.

Before, he'd been a deadly angel with a beautiful soul underneath.

Today, he'd looked just as handsome as before – maybe more so with the extra edges and tiny scars the last three years had given him – but now there was nothing underneath except ugliness.

Watching the last few bits of grime and soap disappear down the drain, I turned the nozzle, only to hear the damned phone I'd left in my jeans vibrating.

Sighing, I stepped out of the shower and started toweling myself off while I reached for it. “Yeah?”

“How'd it go, bitch? You were supposed to check in.”

An evil chill swept up my spine. Hatch's voice had that effect, just pure, vicious poison. My battered temple throbbed, remembering how he'd knocked me out cold.

“Not well,” I said. There wasn't any point in lying. “It's going to be tough to find out anything. He doesn't want to talk to me.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. I could practically see his nasty, leathery face pausing to take a long drag on a cigarette. His mismatched eyes must've trembled with rage.

“You're gonna do better, Summer-Bummer, or you're gonna get your fuckin' guts hanging on a clothesline, mixed with the kiddo's. Quit fucking around. We're paying for your room. Wasting the club's good money.”

Fuck you, fuck your money, and fuck your club,
I wanted to say, but I bit my tongue. Tasted blood.

“I'll try again. Give me another day or two. I'll find out where he goes, follow him, try to pin him down somewhere outside the clubhouse.”

“Yeah,” he said calmly. “You will. Because if you don't –“

“Hatch, please!” I flattened my hand against the wall, propping myself up so I wouldn't pass out. “I know what you'll do. I don't need another reminder.”

“Good. 'Cause if you fuck us over, you little fuckin' skank, what's coming ain't just talk. It's blood. You've got three days to drain him dry before we drain your skin in the nearest ditch.”

The line went dead. I closed the phone and angrily threw it down on my clothes, promising myself I wouldn't let him set off another chain reaction of ugly crying.

I couldn't fight this hellish noose he'd slipped over me. But I could control my own reactions. Getting upset about his sickening threats wouldn't do anything to keep Alex safe.

And that was the only reason I was here. After today, there was no other reason.

* * *

“
M
ama
!” Little Alex sat on my lap with some stupid kid's show on the background, tugging at the bottle.

“Sorry, little man. Here you go.” I helped put the tiny juice bottle up to his lips, watching while he took it.

He sucked his sweet drink without a care in the world. For a second, I wished I'd brought along something a whole lot stronger for me to drink,, but that wouldn't do me any favors either.

You can't give up,
I told myself quietly.
Look at him. You're his mom, for Christ's sake. His everything. The only defense against these sick bastards he's got.

My baby slurped the apple drink, staring up at me the whole time, his eyes as big and bright as his father's used to be. They were the same color.

I wouldn't let that fire in his little eyes go out. I'd keep him safe, keep him alive, and I'd damned sure keep him happy. He was too young to see me killed over nothing, this biker nonsense.

Leaning down, I kissed his head, and thought about how I'd make good on the lofty promises in my heart. It didn't come to me until after midnight, when I sat awake in bed, watching him turn around in the tiny play pen I'd set up.

Everybody was restless tonight. I wondered where Joker was, and if he was just as upset in his own bed.

Then I instantly covered my face, hating myself for thinking it.

Today, he'd ripped away any reason left to ever sympathize with him. Hell, I hoped he was suffering somewhere tonight, torturing himself for the way he'd treated me.

Talk about wishful thinking. I shook my head, knowing I'd have another brutally early morning tomorrow. I had to be up and out near the clubhouse if I wanted a real chance to catch him.

God help me, I would. There wasn't another option.

I'd sell out the bastard who'd wiped his filth on me in a heartbeat. I'd do whatever it took to keep my son safe, even if it meant watching the monstrous killers threatening us put a bullet through his father instead.

* * *

T
he next day
, I had Alex at the daycare as soon as it opened, before I took off in my rusted out car for the clubhouse. I parked just around the corner, careful to keep myself out of sight.

Hopefully, he'd take the opposite road heading for the highway when he came out of there.

If
he came out, I meant. Nothing was guaranteed, but there wasn't a better option.

I'd decided to risk the entire day scoping out the only place I knew for sure where he'd come and go.

After three long hours in the car, I finally heard the motorcycle roar that got my hopes up.

“Shit,” I swore to myself, watching the scruffy brother who'd let me through the gate yesterday roar out instead.

Ten more minutes, I sulked, contemplating all the roads I could use to flee the south for my life if I couldn't get close to Joker again. Then there was another growl.

I stiffened in my seat, inhaling a sharp breath as I saw the unmistakable outline of the big, bold man I'd once loved drive through the gate. He was in his truck this time, and I swore I saw a massive dog at his side, heading for the highway.

My hand turned the key in the ignition before I could think. I counted to about ten and then took off.

I hoped I'd be able to hang behind him close, but not so close he'd spot me, and throw me off, or worse.

It worked. My heart pounded a little harder with every mile, heading down the short stretch of highway to a new exit, where he took a sharp turn. I almost lost it when he disappeared.

Soon, I saw his truck turn into a nearby parking lot, next to a squat building that looked like an old post office with flowers out front.

I pulled into the gas station across the street, keeping my eyes on him. No, I hadn't been mistaken before.

Joker went over to the passenger side and pulled out the biggest dog I'd ever seen on a leash.

What the hell?
Seeing the animal didn't compute.

The cold, dead-eyed man who'd pushed me away didn't look like the type who had any room in his heart for a pet. I wondered if it could be a guard dog – but then, what was waiting inside the building if he felt like he needed to bring one along?

Whatever, I had to find out. When I was sure he'd entered the building, I darted across the street, parking behind the building.

STERNER PLUS RETIREMENT HOME, I read on the sign.

There wasn't time to stop and think about what that might mean. I grabbed my purse and headed inside, only to be stopped by a burly looking old woman at the front desk.

“Visitor sign in, ma'am,” she said. “Who are you here for?”

Crap.
I hesitated, wracking my brain for a name, the only reason I could think of why he'd be here.

“Donald Taylor?” I said, grabbing the pen, scrawling my name and number before she could tell me there was nobody here by that name.

“Oh, of course! Mister Taylor. It's about time he had somebody coming to see him besides his grandson...”

Of course!
I echoed in my head. I could've dropped to the floor with relief.

“Have you been here before?”

I shook my head, watching as she beamed and stepped away from the desk. “Cheryl! Take over while I show the girl around. Right this way, ma'am, he's probably hanging out in the commons like he usually does this time of day.”

My knees grew heavier with every step I took, following her down the long, egg white corridor. I saw them sitting together as I rounded the corner.

The lady smiled and pulled away, giving me a friendly squeeze on the shoulder.

Honest to God, I needed it, knowing this was going to be the last peaceful minute of my life today.

A shitstorm brewed ahead. And I was walking straight into it as soon as I came into their sight.

No time like the present,
I thought.
Go.

Forcing my way forward, I plastered the biggest, fakest smile I'd ever worn on my face. The old man saw me first, turning his head, muttering something about his hearing aids.

“You heard me, boy. This damned place creeps and crawls with everything. I ain't gonna be able to hear shit if you don't move your ass, and fix it for me.”

“Grandpa, that's the fourth fuckin' time this year. I –“ Joker stopped.

He froze as soon as he saw me coming. I didn't stop.

The huge, hairy grey dog laying on the floor must've sensed his master tensing up. He stood up and let out a loud bark, forcing Joker to look down. Rather than stand up and beam that hatred at me, he crouched on the floor to sooth the dog, before it turned the nursing home into a total circus.

“What the fuck you doing here?” he growled, running his hand over the beast's furry head.

“Oh, Joker, I knew I'd find you here. Visiting your grandpa, huh?” I looked at the old man and winked.

His weathered face pulled up in a smile, amused by my interruption.

“Summer, you don't know shit. If you've got any sense in your head, you'll pack it in, turn the fuck around, and –“

“What's gotten into you, boy? That's no way to greet a woman,” his grandfather snapped, turning his wheelchair toward me. “Sorry, we haven't met.”

“Hi, I'm Summer,” I said sweetly, taking his hand. “It's a privilege, Mister Taylor, I don't think I ever met you straight up while you lived in Seddon. Just served your table a few times, back at Robby's bar. He was my uncle.”