He strained against the final shred of it imbedded in his blistered skin until it snapped. Free at last. Kind of. Nanoseconds counted now.
He dragged himself and the chair to the kitchen counter, jerked the cabinet drawer open, and felt around until his fingers skimmed a steak knife. He cut the twine off his legs and rolled to his feet. I have got to get Z out of here!
But the man was unconscious deadweight. Maverick hurried, his heart climbing out of his chest. He cut Z free and dragged him to the rear bunkhouse wall. To the back window. It would be tough, but there was no other way out.
The roof groaned. Foul-smelling, acrid smoke billowed down from the rafters. Tongues of flame materialized and vanished, only to reappear as clumps of tar melted and dripped.
Time was gone.
Maverick kept going. He eased Z to the back wall, then used his elbow to break the window. Choking from the bitter fumes, he grabbed his leather jacket and covered the jagged windowpane. The rafters groaned. So did Maverick, every last muscle on fire with the need to get the hell out of there!
He grunted Z over the ledge and shoved him outside. The roof sagged then—Whoosh! It collapsed and pulled the rafters with it. Just in time. Maverick dove into the night, shielding his face with his arms. He rolled to his back and landed beside Z. For a second, he just lay there and stared at the stars overhead, gulping in fresh air and damned surprised to be alive.
Breathing hurt. Hell, everything hurt. Z moaned beside him, his face bloodied and battered, no thanks to Reardon’s goons. But alive.
No time to rest. Maverick grunted up from the ground and dragged Zeke toward the encroaching shrubbery and quakies behind the machine shed. He would’ve made it, but like the asshat that he was, Reardon rounded the burning bunkhouse with his zipper undone. The moron chose the only corner of the structure not engulfed in flames to pee on.
With his hand in his pants, he caught sight of Maverick. “Boys! Git back here! He’s getting away!”
A roar went up, but Reardon was already in pursuit.
Leezel cleared the corner of the bunkhouse, shrieking, “Kill him! Burn him!”
Out of sheer dumb luck, Maverick dropped Z in time to land a solid right to Reardon’s left jaw. Not good enough. The biker hadn’t just had the crap beat out of him. His hands weren’t burned and blistered. He didn’t wobble, much less go down. Instead, he hauled back and delivered a suffocating punch dead center to Maverick’s chest.
Maverick dropped to his butt, fighting for air.
BOOM! A gunshot shattered the night.
Maverick froze, waiting for the round with his name to release him from this hellish nightmare. Almost thankful the pain would be over. Almost glad he would get to see Darrell again. Almost just wasn’t good enough, damn it. Seeing Darrell meant not seeing China. Ever again.
The bullet never came. He wasn’t hit. All bikers had stopped dead in their tracks, though. All except Reardon. The bastard bobbed like a prizefighter, daring Maverick to get on his feet again. Dumb move or not, Maverick did.
Reardon zeroed in on him, this time with a roundhouse kick that sent him sprawling.
Shit. Maverick dropped face down in the dirt, still gasping for air, spitting blood and bone-weary as hell. His head pounded like a mother. Shadows danced around him in orange-tinted double vision. Out of all the smoke and carnage, trotted the snowy-white ghost of Gorgeous. Time seemed to move in slow motion with the swirl of her mane and tail.
The gentle beast that had claimed his heart the moment she had laid eyes on him came to him now. He rolled to his back, on his way out of this life for certain if he was seeing ghosts. She curled one front leg into a bow and dipped her long face into his chest.
There was no sudden burst of power. No magic shield. She hadn’t brought anything but the certainty they’d known each other in some different lifetime. Just as he lifted his blood-smeared fingers to touch her velvety nose, her death screams rang in his ears again. The lovely vision evaporated.
He was back in Reardon’s version of Hell.
Maverick rolled to his hands and knees. He was hurt. He might be dying, but he had one thing to do before he died. Make Reardon pay for killing Gorgeous and her baby.
Reardon feinted close and danced back, a shitty grin on his face. The bastard honestly considered this fight won and over. No way.
Maverick staggered to his feet, his tortured vision providing multiple opponents instead of one. Reardon might just be right. They’s rats in the trap is all. As if to prove his point, he closed in for the kill.
But the memory of Gorgeous persevered. Maverick straight-armed Reardon and landed a solid right. He got in a lucky left. Take that, you sonofabitch.
Reardon dropped to one knee, shook the blood off his lip and looked twice at his nearly-dead opponent. He jumped to his feet and charged. “You’re going down!”
After a half-dozen more body blows, Maverick kissed the dirt again. He couldn’t understand why Reardon’s buddies hadn’t already kicked the shit out of him. They were still out there, but they held back. They watched. Why?
He lifted his heavy, battered head and squinted into the dark. Who else was out there? Who was so powerful they were able to keep Death and the chicken shit Kings and Kreepers at bay?
Kyrie’s sad blue eyes peered out of the smoky darkness. Does you yike me?
Maverick blinked hard. Her sweet eyes vanished. Only the truth remained. God yes, I like you, Kyrie. Actually, I love you, sweetheart.
He shook his head to clear his vision and gathered what was left of his strength. Maverick staggered to his feet. One last time. No child should have to live in fear. Reardon shouldn’t have hurt her. He had to—HAD TO—pay.
Reardon dodged in between Maverick’s weak attempts to protect his face with his upraised fists. He landed a double tap to Maverick’s chin. One to his solar plexus. Chest. Chest. Chest.
Somehow in the midst of the pummeling, Maverick landed a blow. Reardon’s chin lifted skyward. Left him stunned and reeling. His split lip bled.
Unfortunately, the impact had a rebound effect. Maverick dropped to his butt, surprised that even when he had won, he lost. Shit. I’m not gonna win this.
Out of the fog in his throbbing head, between the jackhammering beats of his heart, China’s smile reached out to him. His elfin princess. The woman who’d shown him that life was still good after incredible loss. That life was worth living.
Her black hair blended with Star’s mane in the wind of their uphill charge, both flying in the wild Wyoming sky, happy and carefree. Then.
The last time he’d seen her, she’d been near death. Reardon and Leezel did that. They’d hurt everyone and everything he loved. They’d meant to kill China.
Never again.
With his last ounce of strength and more courage than brains, Maverick swayed to his feet for what would very likely be the last time. A guy doesn’t get this many last chances.
He could barely see through the sweat and blood coursing down his face, but one thing was sure. He would go down fighting for the woman he loved. He squared his shoulders and posted his feet while dancing, dumbass Reardon closed in for the kill.
“Say your prayers, dirt bag.” Tough Guy spat to the side and charged, his right fist jabbing while his left covered his chin.
Maverick caught him under that supposedly protected chin, and for once, Maverick didn’t fall down.
Reardon’s head jerked back. Surprise glinted along with the reflection of the fire in his dark eyes, but he didn’t go down, either.
Maverick took a step forward and miraculously dodged Reardon’s left hook. He took another step into his enemy’s comfort zone. He lashed out in a lightning strike that knocked Reardon’s head back again. And again. Maverick stayed on his feet this time, too. Now who’s dancing, punk?
Reardon recovered, but worry lines furrowed his brow. He charged, his lips twisted with fury.
Maverick cocked back with his fisted hammer.
In tha
t incredibly long instant between fist and face, time paused. Z whispered, Miss China needs ya, son. You’re the only one can do what needs getting done.
Maverick glanced past Reardon’s shoulder to where Z lay on the ground. Still out cold. He hadn’t said a word. Couldn’t have if he wanted to. Didn’t really need to. Maverick caught the message on the blistering wind.
There ain’t but one thing ta do when you fall off a horse. You gots to pick yer butt outta the dirt. You gots to cinch yer saddle up. You gots to climb back on that horse and kick ass.
Maverick sucked in a deep breath of hellfire and righteous rage. Blood flooded the chambers of his heart with enough oxygen to get the job done.
The power of a damned good man rippled down his spine. Then another, because you know what? Marine’s don’t fucking quit! USMC Corporal Maverick Carson—the real Maverick Carson—showed up for the fight. He had brought his second wind, too.
Maverick raised his head just a little higher. He thumbed his nose and shifted his weight. Planted his feet. The end had come. He might die at the hands of Reardon’s bullyboys when the fight was over, but by heaven and all that was holy, Reardon would go down first.
Right on cue, Reardon’s lip lifted into a sneer.
Maverick charged. He landed a one-two punch that felt damned good when it connected with Reardon’s ugly jaw. It felt so good Maverick did it again. And again.
Something in Reardon’s ugly face crunched. His skull bounced backward. An arc of spit and blood went flying. A tooth. Tough Guy stopped dead in his tracks. Bewilderment glazed his eyes. He dropped his guard.
Maverick offered no quarter. He pressed forward with a lightning volley to Reardon’s midsection. Three, four, five times Maverick hit, and he hit him hard.
Reardon never even lifted his hands to protect his face. When the volley ended, he sagged to his knees. Drool dripped off his lip. Enlightenment had arrived.
Anger propelled Maverick forward for the final blow.
Red and blue flashing lights colored Reardon’s surprised face as Maverick hit him one last sonofabitchin’ time. The police had finally arrived.
Tough Guy dropped like a ton of shit and—whoosh! The finale. The bunkhouse walls caved in with a resounding crash of cinders and sparks. The fight was over.
Maverick fell to his hands and knees in the middle of a flaming fireworks show. Spitting blood. Drenched in smoke and sweat. Nothing left to give. Righteous anger could only stoke a man’s strength for so long before reality stepped into the ring and announced the real winner. He bowed his head and waited. If the police weren’t quick enough, Reardon’s biker buddies would kick him to death.
With a garbled prayer to the wind, he bowed his face to the dirt. God. Tell China I love her. Let her be sure. Let her be happy.
But nothing happened. He peered up through his mauled eyelids. Several sheriff cruiser were parked haphazardly throughout the yard. A swarm of police had the bikers on the ground. All of them. God. Miracles do still happen.
But damned if it wasn’t X standing across the yard waving like a little kid in his overalls, with nothing but pride in his eyes—and ol’ man Wolf’s lever-action Henry rifle on his hip. He gave Maverick a face-splitting grin and a thumbs-up.
So. It was X all along. He was the one who had held Reardon’s pack of bloodthirsty bikers at bay. With as much of a smile as he could muster, Maverick offered the hero of the night, his best bud, X, a quick two-fingered salute.
“Xavier. My man. Hey,” he muttered hoarsely.
The war was won. Maverick eased his cheek to the ground and collapsed.
Chapter Thirty-One
“Is he okay?” China asked. “Have you heard?”
Taylor held one finger up, his cell phone tight to his ear. “Yes, Boss. Understood. I’ll tell her.”
She could hardly wait for him to pocket his phone. “Well?”
“He’s good. He’s got a few things to tie up before he’ll be back in town.”
“But I had the strongest impression that he was dying. Is he okay?”
Taylor huffed. “He is now. Reardon burned the bunkhouse last night, but everyone got out alive.”
China ground her teeth. I knew it. “My sister’s a murderer,” she whispered the words out loud for the first time. “So is Reardon.”
Kelsey ducked her head into China’s and hugged her tight. “We can’t choose our family, and even when we can, sometimes we still make mistakes. Sometimes we marry them.”
After a restless night of waiting for Alex to call, they sat together on the porch watching Kyrie with Kelsey’s ten-month-old daughter, Lexie. Big girl Kyrie hovered over her newest girlfriend. Lexie wasn’t walking much yet, but every time she tried to stand, Kyrie picked her up by her armpits to help her.
“But she had everything. Leezel was always prettier and smarter than me. She could’ve done anything with her life.”
“Sounds like she made her choice.” Kelsey blew out a big sigh. “That’s the biggest lesson I’ve learned. When I think I’m the only one with problems, I look at Alex and the men and women he leads. They’ve all suffered in one way or the other, but they’re all going strong.”
Taylor nodded and excused himself.
China had grown close to Kelsey in the short time they’d been together. Today, like two old girlfriends, they’d gone clothes shopping. China finally felt normal in denim jeans and a button-up blouse. She had bought new boots, but wore the simple penny loafers she’d also selected.
“But then someone special comes along and makes everything you’ve suffered worthwhile, huh?”
China caught her friend’s smile. “You mean Maverick, don’t you?”
“Who else?”
“He did kind of drop out of the sky.” China remembered the day of the slide. “I didn’t think he would stay. He was always looking down the road like he had somewhere else to be. Like he wanted to leave.”
“What changed?”
“I don’t know. It just seemed he was always there when I needed him. He helped me when Star got caught in the slide, then he showed up in the middle of Reardon’s biker club ransacking my yard. Then the fire. I would’ve lost all my horses if he hadn’t been there. Maybe more.”
“He’s been busy,” Kelsey replied somberly.
Now it was China’s turn to be quiet. She used to feel bad for her sister. As angry as Leezel could make her, China always hoped she would change, that maybe she’d see the light of her selfish ways and decide to be a real mother. Instead, Leezel had chosen booze, drugs, sex, and crazy over her beautiful baby girl. The new boots she’d bought reminded her of the work ahead, kicking Leezel’s ass out of Kyrie’s life once and for all.
“Alex is here.” Kelsey interrupted China’s dark thoughts as a black pick-up rumbled up to the curb. Kelsey all but flew off the porch to welcome him. He grabbed her and lifted her over his head as if she were a child. China had only to look at the light on his ruggedly handsome face to recognize true love. This man had it bad for his wife.
China couldn’t help but like him. Alex Stewart had a heart as big as the Wyoming sky. He had literally opened his wallet without a second thought of being repaid, and even now kept her and Kyrie under his protective care.
He kissed Kelsey and set her back to her feet. The minute he spied Lexie, his face lit with a grin. He picked her up and tossed her into the air. Lexie giggled as she fell into his arms, not alarmed at all. Alex blew a raspberry into her neck before he launched her again.
Kyrie stood watching Lexie sail up and fall down, her little fingers clenched. She beamed and wiggled her little backside when the baby fell laughing into her father’s arms a second time. Excitement got the best of her. “Me too! Me too!”
Alex handed Lexie off to Kelsey with a big smile and lifted Kyrie into his arms. He positioned one hand under her backside, the other under her arm. “Are you ready for a ride to the moon?” he teased.
“Uh huh,” she answered quickly, but China saw the fl
ash of worry crease her brow before Alex launched her. Up she went. China’s heart leapt to her throat, but Kyrie giggled as he caught the happiest little girl on the planet.
China’s eyes brimmed over. The happy scene played havoc with her tender heart. Poor Kyrie craved male attention. She had latched onto Taylor and Gabe the same as she had with Maverick. Now Alex. It almost hurt to watch. All that child wanted was a father. A good father.
“One more time?” Alex asked once she was safe in his hands again.
“Yeah!” She bounced on his arm, so he swung her a little higher this time, and she fell giggling even more. When he set her on her feet, she ran to the porch and buried her out-of-breath body against China. “I gonna marry Unca Awex,” she whispered, her little heart pumping hard.
China couldn’t help but chuckle while she gathered Kyrie onto the swing beside her. “You can’t marry every man you meet.”
“Uh huh. I kin, too.” Kyrie glanced shyly at her newest beau. “He nice ’n he cute.”
Kyrie had a little girl’s crush on Alex. Well, good for her. Alex seemed like a good man to have a crush on. Of course there was also Taylor, Gabe, and Maverick, and heaven forbid any other guy who showed up while Kyrie was in the marrying phase of childhood.
Taylor and Gabe joined the group on the porch while Kelsey and Alex climbed the stairs with Lexie. He plopped Lexie into Kyrie’s lap and immediately she hugged the baby, her blue eyes shining up at her new beau.
“Hang on tight, okay?” he told her. “Lexie’s not a big girl like you. She might fall.”
China had to chuckle. Kyrie sat there with both arms around Lexie and all her favorite guys standing with her, so enamored she couldn’t speak. All she could do was scrunch her shoulders. Not for a second did she take her eyes off Alex.
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