Screw

by Atlas, Lilly

  As though her body remembered it could move, Jazz began to struggle. “No! Stop.” She kicked and bucked but couldn’t break the hold. “Forget about me. I can walk. Help Viper!”

  “I need to save you. I’m getting you out. Saving your life.”

  Oh, my God.

  Her stomach heaved, bile rising to her mouth.

  “No,” she whispered as she finally looked up at who she’d thought was her savior. “Please.”

  This couldn’t be happening.

  “I told you, Jazmine. I knew it would catch up to you one day. The devil is inside of you. This is proof. You should have let me finish.”

  She lost it then, screaming and flailing as she fought with all her might to get away. But as in the past, she was no match for the strength born of paranoid delusions. She wrestled for long minutes, until her filthy, aching body sagged in complete and utter fatigue. Cold seeped into her bones. Her fingers burned and tingled as her wet clothing seemed to freeze around her skin, making every move painful and sluggish. Unable to exert any additional escape effort, she sobbed as Paul drew her farther and farther across the parking lot.

  Maybe it was true. Maybe she did have some evil force working inside of her.

  Gumby and Screw had rejected her.

  The diner was destroyed.

  Viper was…God, she couldn’t even think the word.

  And she was back in the clutches of the one man who made her wish she’d died alongside Viper.

  “That’s better,” Paul whispered in her ear as he pulled open a car door. “Don’t fight it. I’ll take care of you, Jazz. Don’t worry. I’ll get him out.” He shoved her into the rear seat. After he slammed the door and circled to the driver’s side. She tried to open the latch with fumbling, useless fingers. As they slipped off the handle, she realized her hands were covered in slippery red blood.

  Hers? Viper’s?

  Didn’t matter, it had to come off. She began to rub her hands on her wet jeans so hard, her skin was raw and freezing in seconds.

  One last time, she tried the door.

  Paul sat in the driver’s seat with a chuckle. “Child lock, Jazz. You’re not going anywhere. I’d turn the heat on, but we both know the devil thrives on heat, so I’m sorry, but you’ll have to be cold a little while longer. Trust me, this will just make it easier to save you.”

  Trust him? If she’d been able, she’d have laughed.

  “H-how did you find me?”

  “God was on my side. I wrote you a letter ten days ago. Dad told me he forwarded it to you. It went to your neighbor’s house instead.”

  “J-Jeremy?” she said, unable to keep the shock out of her voice. Jeremy told Paul how to find her? The man was pure evil. She’d lived next door to him for over a year. How had she missed it? How had she been charmed by his willingness to help her out and his supposed crush on her?

  “He called me. Told me all about you. Where you work. The disgusting things you’ve been up to with two men. Did you know he watched you through your window one night? He made it possible for me to get to you before the devil destroys you. See? It’s meant to be. I’ve been chosen to save you.” He smiled as he spoke. The insane words made perfect sense in his mind.

  “B-but how d-did y-you escape?” Her teeth chattered so loud she could barely hear her own words over the clacking.

  “Oh, Jazzy. God works in mysterious ways.”

  That was all she was going to get from him. Her eyes fell closed as hot tears poured down her cheeks. No one knew where she was. No one would find her. Would this be the time Paul drew enough blood to end her life?

  If so, the two men she loved would never see her again.

  They’d never know she forgave them.

  They’d never know she loved them.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  GUMBY STRODE THROUGH the clubhouse, fully aware of all the curious gazes tracking him.

  After his chat with Striker and Jester, the three of them grabbed Hook, got some pizza, and then he drank himself into a stupor. Part of him had wanted to go to Jazz and Screw that night, but his brothers convinced him to give them time to…breathe.

  He just hoped Screw hadn’t breathed too much. As in breathed in someone else’s air while sucking their face…or other parts of their body.

  “Hi,” he said to a tall blonde bombshell behind the bar. “I’m looking for Screw.”

  She rolled her eyes. “What do you want with that fucker?”

  “Hey!” Jigsaw said from a few stools over. “Pretty sure that ain’t your business, hon.” He turned to Gumby. “No one’s seen him since he grabbed a bottle and disappeared in his room yesterday.”

  Shit, he’d be feeling even worse than Gumby today.

  “Top of the stairs, make a right. Third door on the right.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Mmhm.” Jig lifted a hand as he returned to whatever paperwork had him captivated.

  Gumby jogged up the stairs and made his way to the door Jig had directed him to. Just twenty minutes ago, he’d stood outside Screw’s house with the same pit of nervousness in his stomach. When that knock hadn’t been answered, he came to the clubhouse.

  He almost went to Jazz first, but making up with Screw would go a long way toward fixing what he’d broken with Jazz. If they came to her as one, begging for forgiveness, she’d have to grant it, right?

  Gumby blew out a breath and knocked lightly on the door. A groan came from the other side. “Go away,” Screw’s sleep-roughened voice called.

  Instead of following the command, Gumby opened the door and slipped into the room. Music played from an Echo on his nightstand. Screw lay face down on his bed naked except for a pair of black boxer briefs. His eyes were closed, but he said. “Told you it wasn’t fucking happening. Get the fuck out.”

  So, someone had tried to get with him. No surprise there. But he’d resisted. Gumby smiled as he silently toed his boots off. He shut the door, which hopefully Screw interpreted as his departure. Then stripped out of his jacket and Henley before losing his jeans.

  After tiptoeing to the bed, he crawled up and onto the mattress, laying himself directly on top of Screw.

  “What the hell?” Screw jolted and tried to roll out from under Gumby, but he linked their fingers, pressing Screw’s palms into the mattress and scraped his teeth along the back of his biker’s neck.

  “Gumby?” Screw said in a half question, half plea.

  His name spoken in that gravelly, sleep-heavy voice had Gumby’s dick hardening against Screw’s ass which drew a groan from the man.

  “What the fuck are you—”

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered against the shell of Screw’s ear. “So fucking sorry. I fucked up huge and ruined it all. I don’t want to be like this, Screw. I don’t want to fear being…out. I swear I’m fucking trying, and I’m sorry I failed. I told my brothers all about us.”

  Screw remained silent as he ground his ass against Gumby’s rock-hard erection. But then he said, “Let me turn over.”

  Releasing his hands, Gumby pushed up to a plank position allowing Screw to roll to his back. When he settled down once again, their dicks slid against one another and both men hissed. Thank fuck Screw was as hard as him. Screw still wanted him. At least he had that going for him.

  “You’re not the only one who fucked up. I did a pretty stellar job of that myself.” Screw reached up and removed Gumby’s glasses, setting them on the pillow beside his head. “I’ve got something to say and then I think it’s time we go get Jazzy back.”

  Gumby closed his eyes as he let Screw’s words wash over him. Sure didn’t sound like the other man was done with him. Done with them. “What do you want to say?”

  “First of all, yesterday is forgiven.”

  “Same.”

  Screw smiled. He smoothed his palms up and down Gumby’s back in a hypnotic rhythm that made him want to purr. That was until Screw closed his hands over Gumby’s ass and squeezed. Then he wanted to howl. “I love you, Gu
mby. I don’t care if I can’t ever announce it to the fucking world. I love you and I love Jazz. I think you’re loyal, and smart, and the perfect amount of calm to my insanity. I think you’re the sexiest man I’ve ever met. You’re a man I’m proud of and proud to be with. I can’t lose you and if that means waiting until you’re more comforta—umph.”

  Gumby crashed his mouth down on Screw’s. It only took his lover a second to get with the program before he was attacking Gumby back. They kissed as they rutted against each other.

  “I love you, too, Luke. Jazmine just as much. You might not believe me, but I promise I’ll prove it to you.” He pulled back, breathless as he stared at his man. “You care so much, so deeply and I’m so fucking proud of how you’re learning to accept that about yourself. You’re perfect for me. Perfect for us. I’m gonna love you so good, you’ll wonder why you ever feared relationships.”

  This time Screw cut him off with a sharp nip to his lower lip before he bucked his hips and flipped them over.

  “Never fucking thought I’d want to hear those words,” Screw said, grinding their hips together. “But they’re incredible.”

  Gumby arched his neck as sharp need nearly had him begging for more. He held Screw’s arms so tight, his nails scored the skin around those sexy fucking biceps. The pain only made Screw thrust harder against him. God, he loved this. The way he could be as rough as he wanted. The way they could take their near violent urges out on each other. Screw would never balk at harsh treatment and neither would Gumby.

  No, he’d fucking demand it.

  “I’ve avoided it my whole fucking life,” he continued his hot mouth doing sinful things to Gumby’s chest and nipples. “Say it again.”

  “I love you.” Gumby grunted when his proclamation was rewarded with a sharp bite to his pec.

  “Again.”

  “I fucking love you.” Another bite. “Aw, fuck, more.”

  “I love you too.” Screw bit him again and Gumby swore he’d come in his underwear if something didn’t give.

  Bam. Bam. Bam.

  They stilled. Screw dropped his head to Gumby’s chest. “Fuck. This better be fucking important.”

  “Y-you need to get downstairs. Um, now.” LJ spoke through the closed door.

  Screw lifted his head, his confused gaze meeting Gumby’s. “He sounds freaked.”

  With a nod, Screw called. “On my way.”

  “No, uh, both of you. And hurry.” The sound of LJ’s retreating footsteps echoed through the room like sonic booms.

  “Shit,” Gumby said as they both scrambled off the bed. “Think something happened with the CDMC? Retaliation? Why do I feel like the rug is about to be yanked out from under us?” He located his jeans and shoved into them the same time Screw found his.

  “Because it fucking is.” Screw lifted his shirt off the foot of the bed, sniffed it, then shrugged. “Let’s go,” he said, working it over his muscular shoulders as they left the room. Normally, Gumby would hang back a second to appreciate the sight of Screw’s ass as he jogged down the hallway, but today he kept pace though each step brought with it an increasing sense of doom.

  Part of him wanted to keep running straight out the door but he stopped with Screw at the bottom of the steps. There stood a handful of Screw’s brothers, each with wild-eyed gazes on him and Screw.

  Copper and Zach stood side by side each yelling into separate phone calls, but it was the devastation scrawled across Maverick’s face that had Gumby grabbing Screw’s hand, onlookers be damned.

  “What the fuck’s going on?” Screw asked the crowd at large.

  An eerie hush of silence descended on the room. Copper ended his call then walked to where he and Screw stood, hands still linked. With each step that drew Copper closer, Screw squeezed Gumby’s hand tighter.

  Once he stood directly in front of them, his expression one of solemn despair, Copper said, “Thunder called. There was an explosion at the diner. Jeremy threw a brick and a grenade through the window. Thunder chased him down and caught him, but Jazz and Viper were inside.”

  Screw’s knees buckled. Copper reached out and caught him while Gumby staggered backward, shaking his head.

  No.

  Oh, fuck.

  No.

  His heels hit the bottom step, causing him to lose his balance. He went down hard, his ass landing on the fourth step up. God, he couldn’t think. He could barely breathe. “Is—is she—Oh, fuck.” He dropped his head into his hands as the room flip-flopped.

  “We have to go,” Screw said, attempting to push past his president. His voice rose, thready and panicked. “We have to go.”

  Copper held him back.

  “Copper let me fucking go to her.”

  “Wait!” Copper yelled. He shoved Screw so he was on the steps next to Gumby.

  “She’s alive, Screw. She’s fucking alive.”

  “Oh, thank Christ,” Gumby said, the words hitting him square in the gut. Beside him, Screw sagged.

  Copper got right in Screw’s face. “Listen for one fucking second. She’s alive, but someone dragged her off.”

  “What?” both he and Screw shouted as they shot off the steps as one.

  Copper held his hands up. “As Thunder was dragging Jeremy back, he saw some guy shove Jazz in a car. He couldn’t catch them, but he did get Jeremy and he’ll be here any second with that mother fucker.”

  Wait…so that meant? “Where the fuck is she?” Gumby felt the overwhelming urge to shake Copper until the words he wanted to hear fell from his mouth.

  “We don’t know.”

  Not those words. Ice slithered through Gumby’s veins as the stark reality of that statement set in. Jazz survived an explosion only to be hauled off. Was she hurt? She had to be fucking terrified.

  “CDMC?” Screw croaked.

  With a shake of his head, Copper said. “Don’t know.”

  Gumby shot to his feet. “I wanna see him.”

  “Let us have five fucking minutes with him and we’ll know what the fuck is going on.” Screw got in Copper’s face. “Fuck!” He shoved past Copper, kicking a chair halfway across the room with the force of his anger.

  “They’re less than a minute out.”

  Screw turned. “Did you ask Viper if he got a look at the guy?”

  “Viper didn’t make it.” Copper’s voice broke. “We think he died protecting Jazmine.”

  A sound of pure torture ripped from deep within Screw as he doubled over.

  Gumby barely knew Viper. Only on a few occasions had he met the former Hell’s Handlers VP, but it’d been enough to see how the loss of his life would ravage the club. Screw’s gaze met his and when he saw tears shimmering from his lover’s eyes, Gumby couldn’t possibly hold back. Even if this hadn’t been a prime opportunity to prove just how much he really did love Screw by claiming the man in public, Gumby would have gone to him. How could he stand by and watch the man he loved suffer such deep agony?

  He moved with purpose, grabbing Screw and hauling the man into his crushing embrace. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” he said, even as the club watched, agog. “I know this is killing you, Luke,” he whispered, “but you gotta stay strong. I need you to be strong. Jazz needs you to be strong. We’re gonna find the fucker who took her, get her back, and make sure she knows how much we fucking love her. You hear me?”

  Screw nodded his head into the crook of Gumby’s neck.

  He dropped his voice. “And we’ll make that motherfucker beg for death.” Jeremy, or whoever took Jazz, didn’t really matter which asshole he’d been referring to. Anyone involved would pray for death by the time he and Screw were done with them.

  Rocket popped his head in the building. “They’re here.”

  Screw ripped out of Gumby’s hold and charged toward the exit.

  “Fuck!” Copper yelled. “Screw, wait!”

  At that moment, Gumby didn’t give a shit what the president or anyone else wanted. There were two people he cared about in the world right the
m. One was missing and one was gutted. He rushed after Screw, bursting out into the parking lot in time to see Screw yank Jeremy from Thunder’s truck and slam him against the side of the vehicle.

  “Where the fuck is she?” Screw screamed, spittle flying in Jeremy’s face.

  “Jesus, Screw. Not fucking here. We’re in broad daylight,” Copper said, glancing around as though cops were gonna pop outta the bushes.

  The asshole must have been stupider than Gumby realized because instead of cowering in fear, he fucking smirked.

  “Something fucking funny?” Gumby asked, coming up next to Screw.

  “Lose someone?” he asked.

  Before Jeremy’s lips had the chance to quirk up again, Screw’s fist slammed into the bastard’s face with a satisfying crunch.

  A rush of elation surged through Gumby as blood poured from Jeremy’s nose and mouth. He smiled again. He wasn’t gonna tell them shit.

  Time to mix shit up. He shoved aside his fear for Jazz, concern for Screw, and anxiety over this entire clusterfuck and focused on making Jeremy mad enough to fuck up.

  “You know,” Gumby said, winking at Screw before he brought his focus back to Jeremy. “I thought you had a hard-on for Jazz. But you don’t, do you? Fuck, maybe you do, but you want him too, huh?” He inclined his head in Screw’s direction.

  “Oh, shit!” Screw said, smart enough to get on board immediately. “That true, Jeremy? That why you fucked with me all through school? Did you have a little crush you were afraid someone would find out about?” He held Jeremy against the truck with a strong forearm across his chest.

  Jeremy spat on the ground. The blood tinged wad landed inches from Gumby’s boot. “Fuck you. Don’t want no fucking dick. I ain’t a fucking queer.”

  Gumby hummed. “Oh, but I think you are. I think you want him. Think you’ve wanted him a long time. Was he why you tried so hard to prospect with the Handlers? So you could be close to him? Shit, I bet it killed you to know he voted against you every time. Oh…shit, did you not know that?” he asked with mock innocence.

  Jeremy’s face grew redder with each word from Gumby’s lips until it was near purple. “Fuck. You.”