KNIVES (RUTHLESS KINGS MC™ (A RUTHLESS UNDERWORLD NOVEL) Book 10)

by K. L. Savage

  “He can’t.” I lower my gun next, pointing it directly to the floor. “What her captor wants is something he will never have again.” If he is in Vegas, I’m going to search every hotel, every corner, every house, apartment, shack, and whatever else I can find. I’ll look under every rock, look in every hole in the ground, have Badge look into his credit cards, his life, and I’ll fucking ruin him.

  “But Natalia—” Moretti asks, rubbing the middle of his chest.

  “I’m sorry, Moretti. I can’t risk Mary for you. I won’t. This your problem, you fucking figure it out.” I step forward and yank the five stars out of Maximo’s body. I have no idea what to do with him. If this had been anyone else, he would be dead. I almost don’t understand why we don’t kill him. Sure, we have a working relationship, but he ruined that when this shit happened.

  I believe that Maximo doesn’t have all the answers that I’m looking for. For instance, how did Mary’s father find her? Why did they go to Maximo? And how the hell can I make sure they never come here again? I want answers. Maybe Mary has them, by some off chance.

  “I’m sorry,” Maximo whispers. “I was only doing what I needed to do for my family.”

  I get that. I’ve done a lot for my family, been through a lot, seen a lot, and I think that’s why I’m so mad. In a sense, I thought Maximo and Moretti were a part of this fucked up family. I thought we could count on them.

  “Why didn’t you come to us, Maximo?”

  “Because he asked me not to,” he says.

  Reaper, Tool, Bullseye, and I all share a look. “So he knows about us?” I ask, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up.

  Maximo closes his eyes, sweat dripping down his temple, and there is a smear of blood on his lip from when I punched him in the face about twenty times.

  The man has taken his beating like a champ, I’ll give him that.

  “A lot of bad men know about you. How can you be surprised?” he mumbles through a wince as he tries to readjust himself to get comfortable.

  Yeah, that’s not happening.

  “How can a Preacher know so much about us?” Bullseye asks, plucking his dart from Maximo’s leg, which earns a sudden pained shout. Bullseye lifts the dart and clicks his tongue when he sees a chunk of flesh on the fingers of the dart. “It hurts more coming out. I should have warned you.”

  Maximo doesn’t miss the sarcasm dripping in Bullseye’s voice and curls his lip to show his teeth that are glistening with blood.

  Thanks to me.

  “Maybe he didn’t know about Vegas, but he knew about Atlantic City,” I say as information starts clicking into place.

  How did Mary know about the Atlantic City chapter? Maybe her father knew what happened, and he didn’t care, and now that he wants her back, he has gone and examined all resources—including other chapters.

  Which led him here.

  Reaper’s phone rings, and when he pulls it out of his pocket, he sighs. “It’s Seer.”

  And I bet he saw everything the day he fucking called me. All of this could have been avoided.

  Reaper slides his finger across the touchscreen. “You’re on speaker, Seer.”

  Tool digs his screwdriver into Moretti’s neck but doesn’t break skin before tucking the Phillip’s head behind his ear. It clearly was a warning not to make any sudden movements.

  Seer’s cajun accent fills the room, and I smile, forgetting how much I enjoy listening to him. “Mon Amie, it’s about time one of ya’ll answer my fucking phone calls. I’m going to assume now isn’t the best time considering Maximo is tied to a chair, three fingers less. Hi, Maximo,” Seer greets.

  Maximo stays quiet.

  “You have any new information now that we are listening?” I ask, needing every detail I can to keep Mary safe.

  “Oui. You’ve got the fight of your life ahead of ya.’ I wish I had better—” but it sounds like betta’ coming from Seer “—news. But the man you’re at war with, he ain’t a good man. A son of God, he is not, more like the Devil’s spawn. His Preachin’ is a set-up, a cover. He’s in Vegas. A tall hotel.”

  “They are all tall, Seer,” Reaper sounds exasperated.

  “Oui, but this one has an M on it.”

  “That’s better detail, thank you. That it, Seer?” Reaper rubs his eyes, no doubt exhausted and annoyed that all this shit keeps happening.

  “Knives, I know ya’ ain’t one to want to know what happens with your future. It’s why you kept breaking ya phone when I called.”

  Tattletale.

  “Ya gonna lose Mary, Knives.”

  Everyone sucks in a breath, even Maximo, but that’s probably because he can’t breathe.

  And I can’t either. I shake my head, dropping the stars in my hand, and they clatter against the floor. The rings of them trying to fall to their sides goes on and on; they twirl, like a penny spinning until it finally loses momentum.

  “No,” I mutter. “No. I just got her, Seer. I just realized—” I rub the ache in my heart, the one I’ve felt twice before when I’ve lost someone I’ve loved. It’s why I’m so closed off from everyone and everything. It hurts too damn bad to feel anything other than what I need to be for the club. “No. I can’t lose her too, Seer. Your visions, you said they can change, right? They change. They aren’t set in stone.”

  “Most of the time, they are.”

  “Not this time. I’ve waited too long. I’ve lost too much. I won’t lose her too. You hear me, you sight-seeing sonofabitch! She’s mine. I finally have something that’s fucking mine, and none of you fucking assholes are going to take her from me. I don’t care what I have to do, where I have to go, she’ll be safe.”

  “That’s not how it works, Knives, and ya know it,” he says sadly. “I’m sorry, Knives.”

  “When?” I place my hand on my hips and tilt my head up, staring at the ceiling as if it has all the answers, but it clearly doesn’t. Only Seer does.

  “Two weeks from today.”

  “What happens?”

  “Ya really want to know?”

  “Yes.” Because I’ll do everything in my power to save her.

  “She saves you.” Seer takes that moment to hang up the phone, leaving me staring at a blank screen and a dial tone.

  She saves me.

  I now understand why I didn’t want to talk to him, because nothing he has to say to us is a good thing. I’m sick of it. I’m sick of always fucking fighting. I’m getting tired. How much bullshit can a club take before it falls apart?

  “Knives—” Reaper starts to say, but before he can get a word out, I turn on my heel and walk out the door.

  I need to clear my head. I need to go for a ride; only I don’t have a fucking bike because it exploded.

  I have to be cursed. The universe loves to take everything from me. Why not just kill me? Why torture me consistently? I slam the door behind me and run up the steps, getting away from Maximo, Moretti, and Reaper. I’m getting away from the pain they want to inflict.

  I’m the one that came out inflicted. My heart is in tattered pieces. When I get to the top of the stairs, I lean against the door and take a minute to myself. I feel dizzy. Memories bombard me: the sound of metal crunching, bullets flying, blood, fear. Before I know it, I’m that little kid again, wondering how I’m going to make it through life without my person at my side.

  I’m not meant to be with someone.

  I’m meant to be alone.

  I’m always alone.

  I creep out of my bedroom in the corner of the clubhouse. It’s in the back. A newly renovated room near the gym. I think Reaper wanted to give me space from the guys, but I want to be close to everyone else. As much as I wanted my father to leave me alone, I hate being alone. Sometimes, he would sneak into my room and hold me, and I was so afraid; I didn’t want his touch, but I wanted the company.

  How sick is that?

  It’s why I’m on the couch right now, sleeping with Tyrant at my feet and Chaos by my head. Tyrant is
Juliette’s dog, and Chaos is Skirt’s. I fell asleep watching reruns of Friends, but the sound of the front door opening and closing has me stirring. I glance out the window right as the motion light comes on outside, and that’s when I see Knives. He is leaning against the porch rail, the puffs of breath fogging in front of him as he breathes in the cold air, and he hangs his head.

  Something is wrong.

  I rub my eyes and get up. The dogs groan, not too happy to be jostled and roll to their backs at the same time. The only dog missing is Lady. She’s been hanging on to life, and the vet doesn’t understand why. It’s killing Poodle. He barely leaves his room so he can be with her. It’s sad.

  “Good boys,” I say to them, patting their heads, so they know they are loved. I wrap the fluffy blanket around me and make my way to the front door. I open it and carefully close it behind me.

  Knives hears the door click and turns around. My breath catches from how beautiful he is. The scalding blue eyes sear a brand on my heart in the shape of his name. The mug he has in his hand drops to his crotch to cover the bulge, and that’s when I notice he is wearing a black onesie.

  That hugs everything.

  Yeah, the mug doesn’t hide a thing. And as funny as it should be that this badass biker is in a onesie, I find myself wishing I could unclasp the white buttons to reveal the hair on this chest.

  “I… uh… it’s laundry day. This is what I wear when I need to wash clothes,” he says, bringing his fist to his mouth as he coughs. “No one usually sees me in this.”

  “I like it,” I smile, keeping my hand clutched on the blanket. My feet are freezing, and the deck is just as cold as the air. I sit down in a rocking chair, and he forgets that he is covering his bulge when he brings his mug to his lips, taking a long sip.

  My eyes drop to his crotch and widen. It’s impressive. I can see the outline of his piercings too.

  “Knives—”

  “—No, let me.” He sets his cup down on the rail and kneels. It’s funny to see him in something other than his cut and jeans, but something about this onesie brings out his vulnerable side that he keeps hidden away. Like he is dying to feel comfort, so he does this because no one can see it.

  He thinks no one can see him, but I do. I see him.

  I see right through him.

  Knives isn’t made of ninja stars and blood. He’s made of onesies and aches to feel the warmth of being secure.

  I won’t ever say it out loud, but I’ll be his onesie if he allows me to be.

  “I can’t… I don’t know how to do this.” There is a pain in his eyes, the same pain that was in them when he threw the chair. “I don’t do this. And Seer…”

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” he says, but I know it’s something. He is hiding it from me. Seer told him something that spooked him.

  “Tell me.”

  He takes my face in his hands and shakes his head. “No. There isn’t a time that’s more important than right now, and I want to enjoy every moment I have with you.” He presses his lips to mine, soft, slow, and deliberate. He takes his time prying my mouth open to make room for his tongue. I deepen the kiss and lean forward, wrapping my arms around his back and pulling him into the warmth of my blanket.

  The cold hasn’t affected him. His skin is warm, but his tongue is cold. I don’t know how long we sit there and kiss, but the crickets are in the background, and heat lightning flashes across the sky.

  I’m starting to wonder if Knives is the reason why I didn’t die. There were so many chances for me, but none ever came, no matter how hard I tried.

  And he was there every time.

  At first, I thought he was a nuisance, but he was the saving grace I had no idea I needed.

  “I want you,” he says against my lips, not breaking the kiss or breaking us apart. “I want all of you.” He slides his hand down my jaw, caresses the curve of my neck, and lays his hand in the middle of my chest. “I’ve never had it before.”

  I’ve never freely given it before.

  Not that I ever planned on giving it to him. Knives kind of wiggled his way in and stole it without me noticing. He’s had my heart for a while now, and I’ve fought him to get it back; I just didn’t know what I was fighting so hard for until now.

  The heart is fickle.

  It breaks, it mends, but it is never the same after being welded together.

  I don’t want to have to weld myself together. I don’t want Knives to wreck me. I don’t have the energy to pick myself up after that.

  And I don’t think he does either.

  “Take me then,” I say.

  We pull away from each other, but not by much, just so we can look each other in the eyes. I could look at his eyes forever and not once get tired of their depths. He holds so much behind those blue prisons. I used to think he was cold, but really, he is an inmate in his own body, and he is begging to be released.

  He lifts me up into his arms, the blanket dragging along the porch, and he takes the steps carefully. I don’t know where we are going, but I trust him. He walks around the building and heads toward the back entrance to the gym. I almost want to stay outside, but we might get caught, and I don’t want anyone seeing us.

  “What’s wrong? Change your mind?” he asks.

  “Not when it comes to you.” I drag my finger through his beard. It’s thick and coarse, just like the rest of the fur on his body. “I just wish we could be outside for our first time. I loved being alone with you in the barn.”

  He nuzzles my cheek with his, and his breath ghosts over the shell of my ear. “I did too.” He lifts up and stares out toward the back of the property. “I’ll make sure to build us our own barn.”

  “You’d do that for me?”

  “I’d give my life for you, Hellraiser. You want the barn? I’ll bring it here. You want the stars? I’ll fucking bottle them for you. You want the moon? I’ll find a way to give it to you. I’ll find a way to give you everything. I hate that we didn’t realize what we felt for one another sooner. I lost out on so much time. I’m afraid I won’t be able to give you all the things you deserve.”

  “Knives, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

  The look in his eyes tells me he doesn’t believe me. I’m not sure what has him spooked, but I’m sure it has something to do with Seer. I’m not going to ask because I don’t want to know. I just want to be with Knives.

  “Take me to bed,” I say, tugging on his beard while snapping my fingers.

  He smirks and opens the door. When it is cracked, he bumps it open with his hip so we can fit through. “So fucking sassy. You and that mouth.”

  “What are you going to do about it?”

  “Tape it shut.”

  “I’d like to see you try.” I lift my chin in a challenge, and when he steps foot on the gym floor, his boots echo.

  That’s another thing I love about him wearing this onesie. He has his damn boots on, and the laces are untied.

  He’s a mess, and he only lets it show through at moments like this.

  Onesies and unlaced boots

  My new favorite combination.

  He stops in the middle of the gym and sits me down. He takes the blanket from me and lays it in the middle, fluffing it, so it’s an even square along the slick floor. “Stay here. I’ll be back.” He brings his lips to the top of my head, and his boots scuff with every step he takes. He presses a few buttons, and that’s when the roof opens.

  I gasp. I had no idea it could do that. The stars are out by the millions, surrounded by black and blue hues.

  “I know it isn’t the barn, and I know I didn’t bottle them, but maybe this can be a close second.”

  “It’s perfect. Come here. Come look at the stars with me,” I say, holding out my hand, telling him silently to come back to me.

  His boots scuff again as he crosses the floor. When he gets to the blanket, he takes off his shoes and lays down. I nestle against his side, staring up at the
vast sky that seems to hold more questions than answers.

  “Seer told me you were going to die in two weeks. You die saving me, Mary. I can’t… I can’t lose you too.”

  I roll over on top of him, wishing he hadn’t told me, but I’m not mad. I push my hair out of my face and stroke his cheek. “I can’t think of a better way to die than protecting the person I—” Am I about to say love? It’s too soon for that.

  Is it? How long have I really been in love with him and denied it, fought it? Too long, but I’m too afraid to admit it. “If that’s what he saw—”

  “Death really doesn’t scare you?” he asks.

  “No, but just because he saw it doesn’t mean it will happen.”

  “He said one of us.”

  “Let’s prove him wrong, Knives. We’ve fought for so long, and now we have something to fight for. Let’s not stop fighting now.”

  “As long as I’m fighting for you and not with you, I’ll be a happy man,” he says, bringing his lips to mine, kissing me under the stars. He brought me the outdoors, just like he said he would. He might not have bottled the constellations or brought me the moon, but he brought me a memory that will last forever.

  He whips my shirt over my head, and he unhooks my bra with a flick of his fingers, freeing my breasts. He never breaks the kiss, and when he tugs the straps off my arms, Knives gathers my hair and lays the thick strands over my chest to hide my tits.

  Leaning back, he admires his masterpiece. “I’ve been wanting to see this dark hair covering your tits for so long. You’re so fucking gorgeous, Mary.” He tweaks my nipples, and I gasp. “But I want to see you like this completely naked.” He smooths his hands down my body until his fingers hook in the waistband of my shorts and tugs them down to my knees, taking my panties with them.

  Time stands still as I’m laid bare before him.

  And I get lost in the silence as he becomes speechless, staring at me so hard it is like he is burning me into his memory. He fluffs my hair just right, covering my tits, and the ends of my hair stop at my hip. I love how he looks at me like I’m the only star he sees.