by Elle Rease
The asshole glanced up in surprise and went still. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed.
“Good, you remember me, then,” Brennan said conversationally, aiming at the man’s chest. “Ike didn’t care so much about you, after all.”
“Hey man, I—”
“No need to explain yourself,” Brennan interjected. “You beat a woman bloody the night we first met, and tonight you did the same to my woman. There’s nothing left to say.”
“Look, I get it, you want payback—”
“No, I just want you dead.”
Brennan put three bullets through the asshole’s heart and two in his brain. He was glad that Haye had given him that speech about staying grounded through this, since he could imagine how things would’ve spun out of control if he’d toyed around with this prick first. Heck, the asshole might’ve escaped. What would Brennan have done then?
“Good,” Haye said. He leaned forward and placed a hand-written note on the dead guy’s chest. “Let’s get out of here.”
“What does that say?”
“A little love letter for the sheriff,” Haye replied dismissively. “Just to give him a heads-up about this asshole’s crimes.”
Brennan nodded and turned on his heel, marching out of the room. He heard Haye shut the door behind them and glanced around to make sure that no one had seen them. Then they headed downstairs to the parking lot. Haye had them back on the road in less than two minutes.
“Call your dad.”
Brennan pulled his phone out and dialed Reade’s number.
“Is it done?” his father asked.
“Aye.”
“Are ye out?”
“Aye.”
“Good, Ah’m proud of ye. Come tae the club.”
Brennan frowned. “Why?”
“Ah’ve got a loose end for ye tae tie up, lad.”
He hesitated, his brain trying to keep up. “You’re letting me kill him?”
“Aye.”
“We’ll be right there.” Brennan hung up and turned to Haye. “We’re going to the club.”
Haye chuckled. “I already knew that. Reade wanted it this way.”
“Then why did he—”
“He wanted to make sure your head’s in the game.” Haye waggled his eyebrows. “He knew I’d be able to talk you down from the ledge.”
“Bastards.” But he said it with a smile. It was good to know that his brothers had his back. “Thank you.”
“You’d do the same.”
“Aye, I would, not that I want you to go through this.” He rubbed his eyes. “It’s fucking torture.”
“It’ll be over soon.”
Haye pulled in at the club and parked right in front of the warehouse’s doors. They strode inside. Brennan wasn’t at all surprised that Ike was hanging from a chain, which was wrapped around his wrists. The smell of burnt flesh filled the air, giving Brennan a clear idea of how they’d removed Ike’s Raptors tattoo.
“VP,” the Raptors greeted him in a broken chorus.
“Brothers,” Brennan said, “thank you for taking care of this cunt. If anyone else ever betrays this club, you’ll have the same fate.”
They nodded their heads in understanding as Reade stepped forward. “How do ye want tae play this, lad?”
“I’m done playing. I need to get to the hospital.”
The ghost of a smile hinted at Reade’s mouth. “Wake him up,” he ordered.
Brennan’s brothers dunked a bucket of ice water over Ike’s head. Ike sputtered and gasped for breath, blinking rapidly to clear the fluid from his eyes. He went pale as he made eye contact with Brennan.
“I can explain—”
“Jesus, what are we, a bunch of nancies?” Brennan glared at the man who’d helped orchestrate Cinnia’s ambush. “There’s nothing to explain. You hated her and fell in with a plan to beat up and rape her. You just didn’t think you’d get caught.”
“Bren—”
“Shut yer yap,” he growled, aiming and pulling the trigger until his magazine ran out of bullets. He rolled his shoulders and turned to his audience. He’s had just about enough of this night. “I know there are still some of you who don’t like my fiancée. Violence against women will never be tolerated here, so all I have to say is this: get the fuck out of my club and this town if you don’t like that I’m getting married to Cinnia Sloane. You are no longer a part of our family.”
“Agreed,” Reade said.
“And if you don’t show up tomorrow, we’ll know who you are. We’ll hunt you down and make sure you’ve removed your ink, or you’ll get the same treatment as Ike. Understood?”
“Aye,” they all responded.
“Good. Get rid of this body. I’m going to check on my old lady.”
His strength began failing him once they—Reade and Haye were following—were outside. His step faltered and he burned with embarrassment as his father shouldered his weight, keeping him upright. First he couldn’t prevent Cinnia from getting hurt, and now he had to be carried to the van? Was he even a man anymore?
“Ye did well, lad,” Reade murmured. “Ah’m proud tae be yer da.”
Tears stung his eyes. Once he was loaded in the van, he felt safe enough to cry. Haye drove while his father remained next to him, patting his back.
Brennan had grown up in a club with rough rules and had seen, first-hand, how hard Reade had fought to keep the Raptors out of trouble. Ramsay Drummond—Reade’s father—had nearly run the MC into the ground, getting involved in all sorts of illegal activities that had more members incarcerated in one year than in the motorcycle club’s whole history. Ramsay had been abusive and irresponsible, which had led to his demise, just in time for Reade to turn things around for the Raptors.
Despite all of this, Reade has always been a loving father, never once making his son feel like a third wheel. Tonight, with his arm around Brennan’s shoulder, was no different.
“She’ll be fine,” Reade assured him.
“Have you heard anything from mom?”
“Aye, Cin’s still in the operatin’ room. She’ll be there for a while. Now, we wait.”
“Not my strongest trait,” Brennan muttered.
“Ye’ve waited for her for years, lad. A few hours won’t do any harm.”
Haye burst out laughing. “That’s true.”
“Longest years of my life.”
“Ye have her now, tha’s all that matters.” Reade squeezed Brennan’s shoulder and let go. “Tha’ bein’ said, Ah’ll advise ye tae think of wha’ ye’re gonna do after this. Cinnia’s bound tae feel as if ye have no business bein’ with her, tha’ she’s damaged goods. Ah know how her brain works.”
Brennan sighed deeply and put his head in his hands. “Aye, I know what you mean. For some reason, she’s always thought I could do better.”
“We all know that’s a lie, though,” Haye chipped in. “You can literally not do better than her. All the other women you’ve been with were slags. Except for Dawn, of course.”
“I don’t give a fuck about other women.”
Haye parked the car at the hospital and glanced over his shoulder, grinning like a loon. “Good, ‘cause you’re not going to fuck anyone else for the rest of your life.”
Brennan stayed silent as they got out of the van, already consumed by thoughts of his fiancée. Her body—though currently bruised and broken—was made for his. He remembered her as a teenager, how she’d tempted him simply by breathing too deeply… He’d wanted everything she could give, wanted to devour her like the hungry animal she’d awoken. At the same time, he’d been afraid that he would scare her, that he would be too rough and starved. She’d still been at school, so innocent. A part of him had wanted to keep her that way.
He had always suspected that his appetite for her would be insatiable. That much has turned out to be true.
Fuck, getting lost in her embrace was better than all the years he’s spent on a Harley, combined. Thanks to the many c
ompliments he’s received over the years, as well as a few comparisons with other men, he knew that he was well-endowed and, as a result, he always had to be careful not to hurt Cinnia. The fact that she loved that little bit of pain, craved it, caused him to forget himself all the time.
She brought out this side of him that he’s never known existed. With his previous lovers, it had only been about noncommittal release, however long or short the session might have been. Sure, he’s never been selfish, his pride ensuring that they were as satisfied as him. Cinnia, on the other hand, connected with his heart and soul.
Every time they were naked and alone, he wanted to play her body, to see how many times he could make her scream. She was such a verbal lover and it did wonders for his ego. Feeling her arch against him in the heat of the moment drove him wild, almost as much as being in her warm, tight pussy.
Briefly shutting his eyes, he remembered how hard he’d taken her that morning. She had looked so delectable in her leather skirt and thigh-high boots, his personal favorite combination, coupled with a Panthera T-shirt and her Raptors cut. Her hair had been in a fashionable bun on top of her head and she’d only been wearing a hint of makeup, the way he preferred it.
He’d followed the sway of her hips from the kitchen, his mouth watering even though he’d already had breakfast. “Where do you think you’re going?”
She had glanced at him with those big, green eyes. “To brush my teeth, duh.”
“Are you giving me attitude, lass?” he’d purred, grabbing her elbow and pushing her against the wall. His finger had taken a leisurely stroll from her neck to her collarbones. “Do I need to teach you a lesson?”
“Bren, we’ve already—”
He had raised an eyebrow as his mouth caught hers in a kiss. “Are you trying to say that you don’t want me?” His other hand had cupped her sex and he’d mentally high-fived himself for turning her on so quickly. He loved that she only sometimes wore panties, and had rejoiced that today wasn’t one of the times that she did. “‘Cause your mouth might be lying.”
Cinnia had rested her hands on his shoulders, gasping as he shoved a finger inside. “Jesus, Bren, you—”
“You talk too much, seriously,” he’d chuckled. “Unzip my pants, lass.” He had added another finger, exploring her wet depths. Fuck, she’s so fucking fuckable, he’d thought. “I’m asking nicely.”
She’d complied, giving his cock an affectionate caress and running her thumb over the head.
“Christ, Cin.” He had molded his mouth to hers, his tongue delving in to conquer hers. The way she’d twined her talented tongue around his, prodding it into a desperate dance, had his balls tightening with need. He had shifted and pulled her leg over his hip to place her drenched pussy in alignment with his erection. And then, like so many times before, he had waited.
He never knew exactly what he wanted until it happened. Sometimes, it was her making the first move. Other times, her rapid breathing. Her trembling hands gripping his hair; her lips seeking a kiss; a shiver wracking her frame.
“Bren, please,” she’d begged, giving him what he hadn’t known he needed.
Would he ever grow tired of hearing that breathy tone of hers, pleading for him to own her? Not as long as I live, he had vowed as he sheathed his cock in her tight channel. She had clamped around him like a vice, making the hair at the back of his neck stand on end. Every single fucking time, it felt like he was going to be a horny teenager who would spill upon entry. He’d had to catch his breath and make sure that wouldn’t happen.
“Ah!”
He had pulled back to slam into her, bathing in her cries of pleasure. Fuck, if it was half as good for her as it was for him, he couldn’t blame her for being so loud. He’d turned his head to suck on the soft skin of her neck, branding her like so many times before.
The Raptors had shat on him more occasions than he could count for leaving visible marks on her, but they seemed to have accepted that he would never change. At least the sex was always consensual.
Brennan had cupped her tits in his hands, squeezing the globes and pinching her sensitive nipples through her shirt and bra. She’d bucked against him and her rhythm became frantic. He had matched her easily, pounding into her sweet pussy until he felt that familiar flutter of her inner muscles, indicating that she was nearing the precipice.
This was a good thing, since his body had given up on withholding his orgasm any longer. “Jesus Christ, Cin,” he’d groaned as he licked his way back to her mouth. He was only half-aware of his accent slipping into Scottish territory. “Cum for me, lass. Let me hear ye and feel yer pussy grip ma cock hard.”
She’d gasped and shut her eyes tightly, as if concentrating on her release. “Fuck.”
“Ah’ll have none of tha’,” he had chided her. He had trailed his hands to her pert ass and changed the angle of his thrusts, hitting the opening to her womb. His toes had started to curl in his boots, signaling the impending arrival of his orgasm. “Open yer eyes, Cinnia.”
She had obeyed, those green orbs making contact and sending him on the best kind of high. Her pupils had been dilated, arguably the best sight in the world. “Oh, Bren!” she’d cried out, clutching his shoulders as they both spun into an intense release.
He had rested his head where her neck and shoulder came together, softly nipping her sweat-coated skin. “Fuck, I love that.”
“You’re so amazing, Bren.”
“Bren!”
He snapped back to the present, just in time to catch his mother when she wrapped her arms tightly around him. Knowing where he was, and why, took care of his arousal. “Ma,” he whispered. “Thanks for being here.”
“Stop thanking me for something I did out of my own free will,” she scolded him. Her voice was shaky. “Are you okay? Did you take care of business?”
“Aye.”
“That’s my boy.” Mysie kissed his cheek and pulled back. “I know this is hard, but we’re all here for you.”
He nodded and shifted his gaze to Cinnia’s parents. He was hit with another wave of emotion, simply by seeing how broken they were over this. “I’m so sorry.”
“Bren, it’s not your fault,” Jimmy said sternly.
Brennan stepped forward to embrace Cinnia’s father. “I’m still sorry that your daughter’s in the hospital.”
“Thanks, son.”
He hugged Loraine next. She was crying unabashedly, trembling in his arms. He felt the need to soothe her, causing him to say things he could only hope were true. “Everything will be okay. Cin’s going to be alright. Don’t worry…”
“Thank you, Bren,” Loraine sniffed, pulling away.
“Here, let’s sit down and wait for the doctor,” Mysie urged.
He made himself comfortable, fidgeting all the way. Teagan and Piper arrived a few minutes afterwards, the latter having changed into different clothes in the meantime. Brennan felt sorry for the girl, because he knew how much Cinnia meant to her. It must’ve been horrible to witness it all, knowing that she couldn’t do anything.
Brennan would’ve gone insane with all those images in his head. Fuck, he was losing his mind by merely thinking of those images.
Dawn came back from the cafeteria, where she’d been getting everyone some coffee, only to realize that there were more people than cups. She stared at them all for a tense moment. Then she let out a strangled cry and began sobbing. “Can’t I do anything right?”
Haye jumped up to comfort his wife. “Breathe, baby. You had no way of—”
“I should’ve!” Dawn interrupted, her fists clenching and releasing.
Somehow, Brennan didn’t think she was referring to the amount of coffee everyone needed. He couldn’t believe she was blaming herself. She hadn’t even been there.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Haye murmured. “She’ll be okay.”
Brennan closed his eyes and tried to conjure up another happy memory. There were so many to choose from, but none of them compared to the day he
’d got Cinnia back. He had played it cool in her office, doing his best not to lose his temper—and nearly succeeding—yet he’d been so relieved when she had agreed to come home.
That had been the turning point in his life. He’d gone from being a renowned skirt-chaser to a monogamist, overnight. Cinnia had that power over him: he’s always wanted to be whatever she needed. It had taken him a while to realize that she loved him for him, and that he wouldn’t have to change a thing.
He glanced up when Jemma entered the waiting room. He was on his feet faster than he could blink. “Is she out?”
“Not yet,” Jemma answered. Her gaze was guarded and he didn’t blame her. It had to be difficult remaining unaffected when one of her best friends was being operated on. “I just came to tell you what’s happened so far.”
“How is she?” Loraine asked.
“The operation on her wrist was successful and they’re now working on her nose. She has clean breaks in three of her ribs, which is a good thing, since this means they didn’t have to operate and it’ll heal quicker. They’ve wrapped her torso and she should be back to normal in four to six weeks.”
Brennan nearly fainted with relief. “Thank God.”
“That’s not all.” Jemma cleared her throat and looked at her hands. “I’m sorry, Bren, but she lost the baby.”
Dead silence rung in his ears. “W-what?” he stammered.
“The first trimester can be affected by stress and, due to the blows her body has taken, she miscarried,” Jemma replied shakily. She took a step towards him, then seemed to remember that she had to remain professional. “She has deep bruising on her stomach, suggesting that she was attacked in that section, too. Nothing came up on the X-rays, so her bones are fine, but… We did another scan that revealed that her uterus has been damaged.”
Dawn gasped and clung tighter to Haye, while the other women in the room were as still as statues.