Bitter Kind of Love: Prairie Devils MC Romance (Outlaw Love) (16 page)

Christ. I'd heard the same sound a dozen times before. It was just the neighbor's crappy old pickup across the street...and where the hell were those damned keys?

My hand was going numb, same as my knees on the cold pavement. Snarling, I ripped it out of the snow and shook it. I was about to dive back in when I was yanked up.

They moved fast. The rough hand clapped on my mouth right as another wrapped around my throat, choking off my scream before I could let it out.

“Long time no see, cunt.” The same smooth, icy voice I'd heard at the club rumbled in my ear. “Get on your fucking feet and follow us inside. I got a few questions for you. If you don't scream, you'll live. You start barking and ruining the sweet silent night we got here, I'll choke you right here and bury your whore face in the snow.”

I whimpered, feeling his hand tighten on my throat. He shoved my face uncomfortably close to the snow and held it there. I thought it was all going to end in a wink, but then he jerked me back by the hair, kicking open my screen door.

He'd found the keys in the snow. They jiggled in his hand as he tried keys and found the lock, seemingly interested in taking his sweet time. When I looked up, I saw why.

He wasn't alone.

Three big dark shapes were grinning at me from the driveway, blocking my escape even if I somehow broke his grip and took off in those stupid heels. Soon, he pushed me inside, and the other three men were right behind him.

There was no sanctuary. Not here. Not anywhere alone.

Just like that, all the nightmares I'd tried to forget followed me inside, and their name was Nero.

Nero, Nero...holy shit. I remember.

He pushed me to the wall and the knife came out, growling about some stupid handwritten map my father had. Memories hit me in the face again and again. If I wasn't so scared, I might've fainted at the sheer force.

I broke. I cried. I quivered.

When I settled down and listened to his harsh questions, I knew I had to answer, especially when he started threatening me with the psycho he'd brought along, the nut with the razors and cuts all over his body.

I gave up Stinger and his club. I forfeit my own life, and I should've known it right then. But I didn't until I slouched, listening to him tell me I hadn't saved a damned thing, much less my own neck.

Everything was past numb, frozen and dead as the snow outside. I watched Nero and his VP, Shark, head out the door with one last wicked order.

“I'm gonna give you boys an hour with this bitch. Have your fun and then clean up the mess. We'll dump her body off on the way to Montana.”

The door shut. The truck outside revved its engine right as I ran, hit the basement, wondering how long I could fight them and avoid this death sentence. My whole crazy life up until that point flashed before my eyes. Wasp and lunatic Hatter caught up to me, tackled me to the ground, tearing at my jeans.

My stripper shoes were long gone. It would've been nice to drive one of those spikes through their evil eyes. I kicked anyway, thrashing against them, slamming my bare heels into everything I could find behind me.

One of the men screamed. My foot bashed something that felt like his brow, digging into his eye.

The other man stumbled, snorting like an angry bull. I ripped myself away, got up, and ran, fast as I could. They were still lumbering around on the floor as I tore through the laundry room.

There was a tiny crawlspace in the corner by washing machine. I knocked the old panel down and flung myself in, tugging the panel back into place behind me. I wasn't sure if they'd seen me, but I hadn't bought more than a few seconds.

They were downstairs now, sniffing around like the animals they were. I listened to them go the opposite direction, trying not to cough on all the fucking dust billowing around me in a swarm.

They rifled through the storage closet, the shelves. One of them ripped it right off its old fixtures and tossed it across the room, where it smashed to pieces.

“Fucking cunt. I'm gonna hold her down while you tear her asshole up, bro. Don't give a fuck about sloppy seconds after she punted me in the fucking eye...”

They were coming closer. The single light bulb had broken when the shelf was thrown, but the darkness wouldn't keep me hidden forever. Soon, one of them would feel the draft, or I'd cough, sneeze, giving myself away.

I closed my eyes. This was it. The rest of my life was measured in seconds, maybe a few minutes at most.

“What the fuck? What's the Prez doing back?” Wasp's hand was on the panel when he froze.

Opening my eyes, I listened along with them. A vehicle was out front, its distinct growl slicing through the thick silence, clouding the rage. My heart picked up faster.

Oh, God. Did that asshole Nero come back to torture me himself?

I wasn't sure if Hatter scared me worse than his fearsome leader. I listened to the men approach the basement stairs. There was noise upstairs, and then footsteps, someone heading down.

“Hey! Is that you, Prez? What the fuck's happening up –“

A gunshot exploded. Someone made a sound like they were gargling syrup, and then there was a long pause, a return of the monstrous silence.

Something heavy leaped off the stairs and hit the floor. For the next minute, I listened with my ear pressed against the panel, wincing each time I heard men hissing, spitting, clawing at each other. They rolled on the floor, banging against the wall like feral animals.

It can't be...

I wouldn't dare let myself consider it. This was supposed to be the end of my story, judgment for failing to keep my cowardly mouth shut. I'd stared death in its vacant eyes and realized what an awful woman I'd been.

I didn't deserve to have Sting here, and I definitely didn't deserve to have him risking his life for me.

The men were snarling louder. Another gunshot went off, and one of them screamed. A familiar voice cursed and footsteps hit the floor, going for the backdoor. It sounded like someone jumped right through the glass. The tremendous crash left my eardrums ringing.

I barely heard the new footsteps crunching over the debris in my little laundry room, closer and closer to my hiding place.

Jesus Christ. It can't be him. No fucking way, no how...

A large silhouette stopped in front of the panel.

I was ready to meet my fate. If the gunman on the other side had a bullet earmarked for me, then I'd take it.

I was ready to die. I wasn't ready for the panel to come flying off a second later, bringing me face-to-face with
him.

“Stinger?” I squeaked, shaking my dusty head in disbelief. “Jesus, it's really you!”

“Fuck, baby. What the hell did they do to you?” He ripped me out, pulling me tight to his chest.

Meltdown came. I bawled, my strength fading against the rock hard chest I never expected to feel again. I took a deep breath, inhaling his scent, strength and violence and sweat mixed together. Amazing how it could be so comforting.

“Easy, girl. I gotta get you out of here.” He guided me into the hallway, where there was a little more light streaming down from upstairs.

He saw the cut on my neck where Nero's knife had nicked me. Stinger's face twisted. Before, he looked ready to kill, but now he was positively bent on it.

“Fuck! Does it hurt?” He ran a finger close to the cut.

I shook my head. “No, it's not deep. It could've been a whole lot worse. Trust me.”

“I'm gonna kill those assholes. Never heard of the Slingers before tonight, but those fucks just dug their graves. Shit! Can't believe that other fucking rat slipped away with a bullet in his ass...I should've gone after him.”

“No!” I hissed, pinching my arms around his back. “Stay with me.”

I looked over his shoulder while thunder echoed in his throat. Wasp lay dead on the floor, splayed out, a deep chasm right in the middle of his forehead.

Something inside me snapped. I shook my way out of Stinger's grip and marched over. I planted my bare heel right in his dead guts, screaming like a maniac.

“Holy shit, calm down, baby. He's dead. You can't kill his ass a second time.” He grabbed me, wrapping his strong hands around my arms. He held me down, probably scared I'd pop a shoulder or something, but still I fought him.

“You don't understand!” I shouted. “I should be on the ground with him. These men fucked up everything –
everything!
I ratted on you, Sting. I hurt your club. I told them about the fucking map you got from my dad...”

He stopped and stared If he was furious, he did an incredible job hiding it. Finally, he got a better hold on me, whirled me around, and pressed me gently to the wall near the stairs.

Stinger's eyes pierced mine, whirling with confusion. “What're you talking about, Alice? What the fuck happened here?”

It all came pouring out. There was no use hiding it.

I told him everything. I owed him the full brutal truth after he'd saved my life. When I got to the part about how they threatened me with that beast, Hatter, how I spilled the news about the Rams, he bared his teeth.

“I'm going to kill each and every one of those fucking assholes,” he said, strangely calm. “Already said as much, but I really fucking mean it. It's gonna happen.”

“What about me?” I said, tears beading in my eyes.

“I don't give a fuck what they forced you to do. It's nothing the club can't handle. They want a piece of us, they're gonna get it lodged up their asses. Now come on, baby.”

He let go. I kept shaking, staying planted against the wall as I watched him stalk over to the dead man. He flipped over Wasp's body and brought out a knife, tracing it down his collar, cutting a neat oval around the SLINGERS MC patch on the backside with the smoking pistol.

“Stinger?” I swallowed hard, waiting for him to face me. He stood up, the leather he'd cut off in hand.

“I'm done here. Let's get you outta this fucking place.”

Upstairs we went. He had me halfway through the door to the driveway, where his truck was parked, when he pushed a gun into my hand. It was heavy, strange, familiar.

I recognized it – nine millimeter. This wasn't the first time I'd held a gun in my life. Heck, one of the first memories that came back was Dad teaching me how to shoot when I was seven. But I hadn't fired one for a long time, and never when a situation really needed it.

“Keep that shit close. I'm gonna let you in the driver's seat with the engine running. Stay there. You take off if anybody comes sniffing around. I need to clean this fucking mess down here.”

We were outside. I watched as he unlocked the truck, started the engine, and then stepped aside, holding the door open for me. A crescent moon lit up the weirdly tranquil street, and I eyed him up and down. He looked just like a crazed prince taking me into a carriage.

“You're not mad?” I closed my eyes, forcing out the words. That stupid cut on my neck was starting to burn for the first time, or maybe it was just raw guilt inflaming the wound.

“I already told you – the club can handle these fuckers. So can I.” He reached out, helping me up into the driver's seat, leaving no time for my doubt to leave me outside and vulnerable. “You think I'd rather have you dead and quiet than alive because you said what you needed to?”

I looked down at him, shaking my head. I wasn't sure what the hell to think anymore. His eyebrows quirked up and he shook his head.

“Christ, baby. Looks like we're gonna have to start all over. You really haven't figured out shit about my priorities, have you?”

He walked off before I could answer, retrieving a tarp and what looked like a heavy box from the back of the truck before heading inside the house. I slumped in the leather seat, feeling the truck's heat blast out on my chest, trying to revive the girl who'd died in the crawlspace.

How the hell was he so calm and collected? I chewed on that question for the next twenty minutes as he worked to disappear the corpse. I took one last look at the quiet neighborhood and the house, knowing damned well I wouldn't be coming back.

Later, he came out, carrying several big lumps wrapped in the tarp. I had a sick vision of him cutting Wasp down to the size. He threw the bundles in the back and spread a bigger tarp over it.

It was sick, yeah, but I couldn't feel bad about it. All four Slingers deserved to be cut to a thousand pieces for making me flip and endanger the club. They deserved worse than that for killing my father.

Now that I remembered who Nero was and what he'd done, I couldn't get it out of my head.

I put the gun in the glove compartment and carefully climbed over the stick in the middle to the passenger seat as soon as I saw Stinger coming. He slid into the driver's seat like nothing happened, eyes and hands focused on backing the truck down the driveway and getting us onto the road.

We drove right past the Filthy Crown on the way out, heading northeast, leaving Coeur d'Alene behind. It was obvious where we were going, but I had to know what else he had in store.

“Well? What's the plan?” I rubbed my neck. Stinger saw me wince when my fingers brushed the cut.

“We're gonna drop the piece of shit in the back off and let his bones thaw for spring. Then I'm bringing you home.”

“Home?” I'd never thought about Missoula that way before, not until recently, when I figured out how fucked I really was.

Couldn't say it felt wrong.

“Yeah. Don't give me any fucking lip about it either, baby. It's not ideal – I get it – but I'm gonna do whatever it takes to make sure nobody lays a finger on you again, much less a goddamned knife.” He drew a sharp breath and ran his eyes up and down my body. “You're done running, and I am too. I made my mistake two months ago when I let Blaze keep me from tracking you down. I've seen the light, Alice, and it's fucking blinding. Let's get this straight: if you go running again, I
will
come after your ass. I don't care if you want to put a damned bullet through my skull even more than those other fucks.

“From now on, you're my responsibility.
Mine.
And you're gonna find out I don't let what's mine break or hurt or fucking die. I'll lose everything before that happens. Truth is, I can deal with Blaze and the asshole Slingers. They're a fart in the wind. But you...this shit...I can't deal with risking your ass or having you outta my sight for one more second.”