Theirs To Defy: a Reverse Harem Romance

by Stasia Black

  “Show me.”

  Garrett blew out a breath, but then he bent over the map. It was just visible in the little cutout part of the Riverwalk. “There,” he pointed. “See the zoo? And that park there.” He squinted. “Brackenridge Park.”

  Drea smiled.

  Uh oh. Garrett didn’t like that smile.

  “Cheer up, darling husband.” She lifted up on her tiptoes and kissed him on his cheek, right above his beard. “Tonight we cut the head off of the Black Skulls for good.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  JONATHAN

  Well damn but Jonathan was glad he’d seen Drea and Garrett scheming over by the map earlier. He still shook his head at the thought of them driving straight into San Antonio all on their own without even telling anyone or thinking it through more.

  Good Lord, it was like they were trying to get themselves killed. He paused at the thought, head moving sharply to look at the two as they slid on Black Skulls biker vests that they both insisted on calling cuts.

  He narrowed his eyes at Drea. She hadn’t been in the best headspace lately. He’d tried to convince her that there was no need to go in and do it like this. Why not just let David do his thing—they were attacking for night for God’s sake. Wwithin days they’d be taking San Antonio… at least if everything went according to plan.

  But she insisted that the man most called Suicide would bug out if he heard there was an invasion. That he’d take the women she was so desperate to save, or worse, kill them all to save himself the trouble.

  And considering Garrett’s reports about Suicide—something he’d asked about when Drea was not around—it didn’t sound out of character.

  So Jonathan had agreed they could go. On one condition.

  He was going with them.

  And they’d do it smart, or not at all.

  David had been less than thrilled with the idea. He’d turned away as soon as Jonathan told him what he wanted to do.

  “You’re going to abandon me on the eve of one of the most important battles of the New Republic?” The words were spoken to the wall. “Is this about earlier? Because I didn’t include you in my planning for the NASA mission?”

  Jonathan shook his head and grabbed David’s shoulder.

  “No,” he said firmly once David was looking at him again. Then he frowned. “Ok, I don’t know. Maybe that’s part of it. Sometimes I have to go my own way. But it’s not just that—you know every female life is crucial to the future of the Republic. From the intel Garrett gathered from the biker, Thomas Tillerman has more than eighty women held in Nix Hospital. If we can secure their safety until you arrive with the army, it could make a real difference.”

  Jonathan gripped David’s shoulder harder. “Please, David. I don’t need your blessing for this mission. But I’d still like to have it.”

  David glared stonily for several more moments before finally breaking and nodding, drawing him into a tight hug. “For Christ’s sake be careful, brother. Who else around here’s going to call me on my bullshit?”

  Jonathan laughed and clapped him on the back.

  “Good, so now that you’re on board, there’s also the little issue of some equipment I wouldn’t mind borrowing. We still have that diving gear, right…?”

  “Oh now I see why you wanted my so-called blessing,” David laughed, grabbing him in a headlock.

  But David was a good sport and gave him everything he asked for.

  “Biker looks good on you,” Drea said but then laughed as Jonathan stared in bewilderment at the folds and flaps of leather she’d referred to as chaps.

  Weren’t chaps for, um, strippers?

  “Here.” She came over and tugged him close by his belt loops. And shit, her closeness reminded him of earlier when she was riding him, those firm legs of hers wrapped around him while he was buried so d—

  “Hey,” Drea snapped in his face. “Soldier boy. Focus.”

  He blinked and looked down at what she was doing. Shit. His stiffy was tenting his fatigues but Drea ignored it, efficiently looping the belt of the chaps through his belt loops and then buckling it with a sharp tug.

  She went up on her tip toes and whispered in his ear, “There you go, big boy.” Before she turned away, she gave his cock a squeeze.

  Good Lord, was she trying to kill him?

  He could only stare at her as she walked over to one of the three motorcycles and bent over to check something in the saddle bags on the back of the bike.

  His head tilted sideways as he took in all the fineness that was Drea Valentine.

  His wife.

  Who he had to protect on the mission, no matter what. Lord knew she didn’t look out for herself. Garrett would do anything for her, Jonathan believed that. But Garratt was just as crazy as Drea, most times.

  No, it fell to Jonathan to be the level-headed one. He was the military man. The one who knew how to follow protocol. He might not have gone to West Point, but he’d spent the last seven years steeped in the rules and regulations of the military.

  He might have been born trash, but he was worth more than that now. He’d prove himself. To David. To his wife.

  To himself.

  “You think you’re gonna pass as a dude if you keep bending over like that flashing that sweet ass at everyone, D? Cause all any guy in three counties lookin’ at you right now would be able to think about is—”

  Drea spun around and flashed Garrett the bird. “Don’t finish that sentence if you want to keep your balls intact.”

  Garrett held up his hands. “All right, all right, I’m just sayin’.”

  Drea rolled her eyes and pulled on the Black Skulls cut that was laying over the seat of the motorcycle. When she was standing up straight and her pants hung loose, with the black shirt and biker vest, she could almost pass for a guy.

  If you didn’t look at her face.

  She’d cut a little more of her hair and had it slicked back, but her face was just too pretty to really be confused for masculine, even with the short hair.

  But when she put the motorcycle helmet on, it helped to complete the illusion.

  She slung her leg over the Harley and revved the old rebuilt gas engine. It sputtered to life and sitting there, she could be any Black Skulls thug—if a tad on the small side.

  But with Garrett and Jonathan on each side of her, she shouldn’t look too out of place. At least that was what they were banking everything on.

  Because they were going to drive down I35 straight into San Antonio, right into the heart of Black Skulls territory.

  So far so good. The ride had been uneventful for the fifteen miles to New Braunfels but Jonathan started slowing down as they came up on the first Army blockade.

  Garrett took the lead as they slowed down and came to a stop right in front of the Army trucks that were stopped sideways, blocking the highway. Sometimes the best leadership was knowing when to let someone else take the lead, and in this case, Garrett was the best person for the job. Out of the three of them, Garrett was naturally the most convincing Black Skull considering he was one up until a little more than a week ago.

  Several soldiers stepped up, automatic weapons drawn.

  Garrett took off his helmet. “What the fuck?” he shouted. “It’s fuckin’ us. Let us through. Suicide’s expecting us. We been scouting out those fuckers up in the hill country and we gotta make our report.”

  The lead soldier lowered his weapon. “Oh yeah? How many did you see?”

  “There were fucking thousands of them out by Canyon Lake. That’s where we started this morning. Then we came out this way and we saw more of the fuckers just about thirty miles up the highway.”

  The soldiers all exchanged glances. They didn’t look worried, per se, but they were definitely interested in the embellished information.

  “So you gonna let us through? We gotta get this info to Suicide in person since coms got fucked.”

  Jonathan felt his heart speed up and he had to work hard to keep his
breathing calm and easy so he didn’t draw any attention to himself.

  The lead soldier nodded and held up a hand, palm flat. Behind him, one of the trucks growled to life and then rolled back, opening just enough space for them to squeeze their bikes through.

  Jonathan and Drea never said a word or took their helmets off and soon they were back on the open road again.

  This portion of I35 had been cleared. Old electric cars and trucks littered the sides of the roads but there was a nice, clear corridor down the center.

  Jonathan had only driven on a motorcycle a handful of times before and the bike underneath him was far from the military issued motorbikes he was used to. He was pretty sure he’d be feeling these vibrations into next week. It was a wonder bikers ever had any kids. His balls were sore and he’d only been on the damn thing for half an hour.

  The next stretch was longer than the first. Thirty miles of silence—well, except for the incomprehensible roar of the bike in his ears. But after a while, it became a sort of white noise in the background—a very, very loud white noise, but still. It was almost calming.

  Was Drea calm or was she wound as tightly as he was?

  Jonathan spent the next thirty minutes running over the plan in his head… and imagining all the things that could go wrong. Just like with the NASA plan, this had been designed hastily and it too was built on information that was flimsy to say the least. They were walking right into enemy territory.

  “Exactly,” Drea said when she’d explained the plan to him. “They’ll never expect such a bold approach. Not while the Army’s amassing outside the city. They might be looking for spies trying to infiltrate the city in the usual ways because Suicide and Travis share the same weakness—they think they’re smarter than everyone else in the room. So they don’t think anyone could possibly outsmart them. They won’t expect this sort of approach.”

  So she said anyway. Jonathan preferred to never underestimate his opponent.

  But when they pulled up at the second blockade at the highway that made the outer ring of San Antonio and Garrett pulled up in the front, it was a similar experience to that at the first gate.

  As they drove away, Jonathan kept an eye on his bike’s rearview mirror. But the soldiers didn’t make a move to follow them or even look after them.

  Holy shit. He couldn’t believe that had gone off so smoothly. They were really doing this. The soldiers hadn’t even looked twice at Drea.

  He spent the next several miles down the road sure that any moment he’d hear the roar of a truck behind them. But nope, no one was coming after them. And the road ahead of them was all clear. They hadn’t aroused anyone’s suspicions.

  He needed to calm the hell down. Good Lord. They were due a bit of luck considering how sideways the last mission had gone.

  He just needed to stay focused. Now they’d make their way to the park beside the zoo and—

  Up ahead of him Garrett swerved slightly and then moved to the side, decelerating so that he fell behind Jonathan.

  What was he—

  Then Jonathan saw it—up ahead, another blockade.

  And this time, it wasn’t an Army blockade. There were trucks across the highway again, but they weren’t military. And the cross of beefed up motorcycles parked by the trucks made it clear who was in charge at this barricade.

  Jonathan took a deep breath and revved the throttle to accelerate until he took the lead Garrett had acceded to him.

  They’d planned for this. Okay, so not exactly for this. There were only supposed to be two blockades, both of them military. But they’d prepared for Jonathan to be their spokesperson in case there were any Black Skulls members visible at the other blockades who might know Garrett. And know that Garrett had taken Drea’s side back in College Station if any of the few bikers who’d managed to escape that night had made their way to home base here in San Antonio.

  So it was Jonathan who pulled to a stop at the lead of their little pack and pulled off his helmet. He might have only heard about MC life second hand, but he’d spent two years of his life on the street. A thug was a thug was a thug, any way you sliced it.

  Jonathan propped his helmet on his thigh near his hip—or rather, near the gun holstered at his hip—as he clocked the situation. There were four men all together. Three who’d been sitting in camping chairs playing cards with an overturned box for a table. The fourth was in one of the trucks.

  “Who the fuck are you?” growled a man with a height and girth that rivaled Garrett’s, stomping forward and getting in Jonathan’s face. With his gun in hand. “I ain’t never seen you before. What chapter you with?”

  “I don’t gotta explain myself to some little shit stuck on guard duty.” Jonathan glared down his nose at the huge man, difficult to do since he was still on his bike and the other man towering over him. “Suicide’s waitin’ on what we know about the troops back there. So you wanna get the fuck outta our way or you want me to tell him that the dumb fucks at the border slowed us down?”

  Jonathan saw the slightest bit of uncertainty enter the big man’s eyes. But the next second he glanced behind him at his other comrades and then jutted his chin when he looked back Jonathan’s way. Except he didn’t stop with Jonathan.

  “What about the rest of you. Take off your fucking helmets. You can’t all be from the fucking Beaumont chapter and that’s the only one I don’t know.”

  Jonathan didn’t miss the way the bastard’s hand tightened on the gun in his hand.

  Shit.

  They might have to—

  But he never even finished the thought before there was a dull thud of a gun with a silencer being fired and a bullet hole appeared in the man’s forehead in front of him.

  Fuck! Jonathan didn’t know if it was Drea or Garrett who’d shot the guy, but they could have just seriously fucked them all over.

  The biker slumped to the ground in front of them and Jonathan raised his gun right as the bikers in the distance scrambled to their feet.

  Jonathan fired at one of the truck’s tires but it glanced off. Shit. It was a sloppy shot. The truck’s engine roared and then it launched forward. If it got away, they were screwed. Their plan only worked if no one knew they were in the city.

  “Cover me while I get the truck,” Jonathan called out.

  Then he ran forward, right out into the open and got a good shooting stance—legs slightly wider than shoulder width apart, knees slightly bent, both arms extended.

  Gunfire went off all around him. Part of Jonathan’s brain knew he was a wide-open target but he couldn’t focus on it. He trusted that his team could cover him, and he had to stop that truck. Stopping the truck was all that mattered.

  The truck that was getting further and further and further away.

  But Jonathan took a breath in and lined the shot up in his sights. He wasn’t going for the wheels anymore. No, he was aiming for the back of the driver’s head.

  As he breathed out, he pulled the trigger. He absorbed the kick back and was about to fire off several more rounds when the truck veered sharply to the right and crashed into the vehicles piled up on the shoulder of the highway.

  Jonathan immediately dropped to the ground. Then, ten seconds and two more gunshots later, a whoop from Garrett. “I finally got the fucker!”

  Jonathan sat up just in time to see Drea running swiftly over to the two men laid out by the motorcycles. She leaned over each and put another bullet into their heads.

  “She always was a stickler for detail,” Garrett said fondly as he stared after her like he’d never been more in love.

  Jonathan shook his head at the both of them and got back to his feet. “I take it was her who took the first shot?”

  Garrett shrugged. “We all knew shit was about to go sideways. She took initiative.” He grinned wide at Drea as she walked back to them.

  She paused and then came right up to Jonathan, sliding the visor to her helmet open at the last second.

  He wasn’t sure what
he expected, but it wasn’t the shaking fury he saw on her face.

  “Don’t you ever risk your life like that ever a-fucking-agin. I should never have let you come.” Her voice was icy and she slammed her visor back down and turned away before he could say anything back. He could only watch as she walked back to her bike, swung her leg over, and kicked it into gear.

  That was when Jonathan realized several things—first of all, he saw who was really in charge of this mission, no matter how he’d been trying to delude himself otherwise.

  Drea slipped so naturally into the role.

  And Garrett certainly saw her as invincible. Watching her in badass mode like this, it was easy to. Easy to think she could walk through fire and not get burned. Scale a mountain and not get winded. Walk through a desert and never thirst.

  She worked so hard to project the façade of a woman who had no vulnerabilities.

  But Jonathan had spent the last seven years of his life around a man people called robotic when they were feeling charitable. And Jonathan knew better.

  Drea was as much flesh and blood as David was. So did that mean… had David been holding Jonathan back all these years out for the same reason underlying Drea’s harsh words? Because… because David was afraid Jonathan would get hurt? Not because he didn’t think Jonathan couldn’t do the job?

  Jonathan blinked hard.

  Drea flipped her visor again, but only so she could bark, “Let’s go,” in much the same tone as David usually shouted, “Move out!”

  Jonathan jogged quickly back to his bike, reloading his gun as he went. As he kicked his own bike into gear he was more determined than ever to have Drea’s back.

  Because whether she knew it or not, she, like David, needed him.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  DREA

  The rain held off until they got to Brackenridge Park, but once it rained, it poured. Story of Drea’s life, right?

  In this case it was good, though. It meant no one was around as they hid the bikes in the bushes and changed into their scuba gear.