“Shit.”
“Shit, indeed,” Blue Line agreed, his eyes still focused across the room. Belle was taking her shot now and Hurley was teasing her while Mela laughed. “Told my second, and there’s a reason he ain’t in that spot now, but we can hold that story for another night. Anyway, I told Jumper I wasn’t waiting for the cops to show. Needed to shut that shit down. Didn’t matter we’d already called the po-po, things were moving too fast. So Jumper held back, and tried to hold back my men.” He cut his gaze over to look at Gypsy, eyes hard. “Those boys are also cuts now, too.”
“Your second was willing to let you ride in alone? What the fuck was in his head?”
“No idea. He’d been with me for a while, which meant I surely didn’t expect it from him.” Blue Line took a long swallow of his beer. “Anyway, I rode down the hill to the warehouse, hearing only a couple of bikes following me, and them too far behind to be effective backups. Walked up to that door and gave it a solid pounding. A real ‘put up all the shit because the pigs are here’ knock, ya know?” Gypsy grinned and nodded. A cop knock was something you learned fast, because it was a sure-fire intimidation technique, effective even before the suspect had laid eyes on you. “Screaming. God, the sound was so loud, it rang through my dreams for days. Fat man opened the door and told me, ‘Joo in the wrong place, hombre.’ I held up my piece, waggled it a couple of times to prove it was real, cocked it, and assured him I was not.”
Gypsy snorted. “Jesus, you did not.”
“Did. Happened. Belle can attest. Fat man backed away and I walked inside. It was…nothing I ever want to see again.” Pulling in a hard breath, Blue Line blew it out in a long stream. “Girls who hadn’t fought were being raped in every hole. Blood, snot, vomit, and shit everywhere. In the fifteen minutes it took me to get there and get inside, two of them had died. The girls who didn’t agree were getting it worse. Belle’s man was holding her while another man tried to get a clean shot of fucking her in the ass. He wasn’t getting it done because she might have been fucked up worse than I’ve ever seen a woman take and live, but she wasn’t going down easy. I capped seven of them before my boys rolled in. Used fists and feet on the bastard who’d put his hands on her. Used a pipe on the man holding her. She—” He grinned suddenly, the solemn mood breaking. “So, get this. She walked up to me. Wobbled, really, but still under her own power, and asked me to help her get away. Then she whirled around and spit on the Outrider. Spit on his face and turned to me. ‘I’m ready to go now.’ As if we’d been having dinner and she decided she wanted to go home.”
“What’d you do?”
“What do you think I did? Put her on my fuckin’ bike and took her home. Medic patched her up at the clubhouse until I could get her into a plastic surgeon. He put her face back together. She’s been with me ever since.”
Gypsy rolled the empty bottle of beer between his palms. He knew what he wanted to ask but wasn’t certain he was ready to hear the answer yet. Still, he wanted to know what Blue Line thought. If I don’t ask, I won’t know. “Been with you since?” Blue Line nodded. “You ever wonder if she’d be better away from this?” He gestured to the room which had been steadily filling back up as the sun went down, leaving the air outside chill. “If you’re keeping her for you, and not for what she needs?”
“I don’t care.” Blue Line’s words were delivered in a flat tone, no-nonsense words that told exactly what he wanted to convey. “If she’d be better but I wouldn’t be there to see it? I don’t care. She’s mine, and she’s staying here. With me. That’s that.” He lifted an eyebrow. “You thinking your woman would be better off if you ghosted on her?”
“Maybe?” He stumbled over his words, trying to get the real meaning out. His deepest fears. “No. Not really, but sometimes I wonder. I wonder if I’m keeping her for me.”
“So the fuck what? Is she happy with you?” Gypsy narrowed his eyes at the question and Blue Line huffed a laugh. “If she’s happy, then let her be happy. Don’t overanalyze things so they make sense to society. You want her with you and she’s good with it, so leave it be, brother. You’ll never know what leaving her might look like.”
Blue Line stood and with hands on his hips stretched, arching far backwards. “Come on, I want you to meet Belle.”
Gypsy followed him across the room, and about halfway there, realized Kelsey had noted their approach. Her gaze was glued to him, eyes bright. The apples of her cheeks lifted with a smile and he marveled anew at how beautiful she was. If he let himself go there, her flawless skin would be so smooth under his hands. She had small but firm breasts, just right to weigh in his palms. Her mouth was perfect, broad and full-lipped, ready to wrap around the head of his cock, sucking him hard while he thrust deep. Gypsy stumbled, catching himself. Kelsey’s smile fell away and she watched him closely, shoulders only lowering an inch when he grinned a reassurance at her.
“Belle, this is Gypsy. He and I go way back.” Blue Line lifted an arm, and the brunette slipped into place beside him, shoulder to shoulder. “You’ve made yourself acquainted with his Kelsey, yeah?”
“Isn’t she just the cutest thing?” Belle smiled politely at Gypsy. Kelsey stepped towards him and he held out his hand, inviting her closer. A moment later she was pressed tight, her cheek against his ribs. “She’s from Australia. Did you know fucking is called rooting there? Hilarious!” She lowered her voice, mimicking Blue Line’s when she said, “Wanna root, honey?” Her voice returned to normal, threaded through with laughter as she answered her own question. “Rootin’ tootin’, I do.”
At Belle’s words, Kelsey started shaking, and it was only after a few terrifying seconds, Gypsy realized she wasn’t freaking out. No. She was laughing. He stared down at her in surprised wonder and watched as she intently studied Blue Line and Belle. “Havin’ a good time, darlin’?” Kelsey tipped her head back, staring up into his eyes. She nodded solemnly. “Good. I’m glad.” Smiling, she looked back where Blue Line was attempting to help Belle line up a shot on the pool table, his efforts more focused on stroking up the inside of the woman’s thigh. “We’re staying in a room here at the clubhouse. Let me know when you’re ready for bed, okay?”
Without looking at him, Kelsey said, “I’m a wee bit knackered, Gypsy. I think I’d be ready to head up whenever you are.”
“Then let’s go. I’m tired, too.”
Music and the quiet murmur of conversation trickled up the hall behind them. The rooms they’d been assigned were deep within the warren of halls and doors inside the building, but the numbering convention in the guest space made sense and he quickly found their room.
Inside, there was a package on the bed, and a small pile of things on the tall dresser shoved up against one wall. Kelsey eased away from him and went to look, exclaiming over the thoughtful personal items someone had left for them.
Gypsy settled on the mattress and picked up the manila envelope, the weight and way it was rounded from whatever was inside not giving him any clues. He pried back the tiny metal clasp and lifted the flap to see papers and photos inside. He reached in and plucked out a picture, startled for a moment to see his own face staring up at him. In a suit and tie, he stood shoulder to shoulder with three other men, one of whom was now dead. Gypsy, at that time known as Doug Tatum, Joel Graham, Nick Thornton, and on the end, angled away from the other three was Dirk Norwood.
“Is that you? It is, isn’t it? That’s you right there.” Gypsy startled as Kelsey bent close, giving him an inadvertent view down her shirt to the tiny, red bra she wore. It curled around the curves of her breasts, cradling them. Every breath she took changed the geography slightly, and he mapped each shift with eager attention.
Fuck.
Tearing his gaze away, he looked back at her, mouth open to answer her question. The expression on her face stopped the words in his throat, shock rendering him mute. Desire.
Instead of covering up by pressing the fabric of her shirt to her chest, Kelsey took a deep breath.
She arched her throat, changing the topography once more and he was staring at her breasts again. Her nipples had pebbled, growing taut in the moments he’d looked away. His mouth watered, tongue smoothing against the insides of his teeth as he imagined taking a plump mound in his mouth. She’d taste like rich caramel, smell like the vanilla scent she wore, and feel glorious under his hands. He’d lifted one hand, beginning to reach for her when she called his name. “Gypsy?” The one word snapped him out of the daze he’d fallen into, and he closed his eyes, hand falling to rest in his lap. She trusts you, asshole.
“Yeah,” he forced out, throat and tongue uncooperative antagonists against speech. “I’m there.” He pointed. “That’s Blue Line next to me.” Gypsy tipped his head down before opening his eyes, focusing on the envelope in his hands. “He must have kept these. I don’t know why. Those men, the ones we were way back then? They’re dead and gone.” He shuddered, the physical crawling of his skin too much to contain. The words he’d said rode close to the truth, and he knew it. “Idealistic and young. We were stupid. Certain we were bulletproof and right. God, we were so fuckin’ arrogant.”
“Gypsy?” Just his name again, but this time the word was filled with a questioning pain. He knew if he looked at her, he’d break. He’d break and reach and take. Take and take, until she’d given him everything, whether she wanted to or not, because sweet Kelsey would never tell him no. Even when she should. “I-I don’t understand.” He shook his head, jackknifing up from the edge of the bed, stepping away from where she stood. “Wh-what’s wrong?” That fucking, fucking stutter was back, and he was the one who’d put it in her mouth again. His hot-and-cold dance kept her on edge. How could it not when it did the same to him? So he’d looked his fill and turned away, leaving her twisting, and had fed the stutter through her throat, each stammered syllable a knife in his chest. I’ve got to get away from here.
“I’ll be back. Wanna touch base with Blue Line before he heads home. See what he wanted from me with this.” He gestured vaguely with the envelope filled with memories he didn’t want. Three steps had him near the door and he finally deemed that enough distance to dare look at her again. She stared at him, blinking wet from her eyes. “Lay down, honey. Rest.” In the hallway and pulling the door closed, he stared at her through the shrinking gap. “I’ll be back.”
***
Kelsey
Why won’t Gypsy do anything? She was stymied on why he kept pushing her away when there was an obvious attraction. Nothing made sense. He wants me. Face burning hot with embarrassment, Kelsey lay back on the pillows. Even Maggie said she saw it. Her eyes stung and swam with tears she wouldn’t allow to fall. She took in a deep breath, wincing as her chest hurt, a huge pressure building inside as she swallowed repeatedly to force down the tears. Gypsy had told her often enough it didn’t matter what had happened at Baxter’s compound, but then he turned tail and ran as soon as the heat between them began to rise.
Will he ever recognize me as the woman I want to be?
They’d been together only months, but every interaction was dependent in some way on Gypsy. The rescue and then coming to the States: Gypsy’s intervention in every aspect. He hadn’t gotten a chance to see her as the confident person she’d been before. That’s the problem, she decided. He’d only ever seen the ghost she’d become through those months, and now, even as she regained her confidence and belief in herself, he held onto that view of her.
I just need to show him who I am. Who I can be.
Easier said than accomplished, she knew. Now that it was set in stone for so long, it would take an act of divine intervention to have Gypsy change his opinion about her now.
Or an act of Kelsey.
She blinked and blinked, forcing the room back into focus. She sat on the edge of the bed and thought through her options. Finally decided, she stood and stalked to the bathroom, flicking the light on to survey the damage her emotions had caused. A quick wash of her face later and she turned towards the door, taking in a steadying breath. “I can do this.” Chin up, she exhaled slowly, firming her lips when they wanted to quiver. “You bet your arse I can.”
Every step down the hallway felt as if it added a kilo to each leg and Kelsey found her pace dragging. Pulling to a stop outside the main room of the clubhouse, she stared through the doorway over to where Gypsy sat on a couch. I can do this. Kelsey straightened her spine and lifted her chin, then walked towards him, each step more freeing than the last. She marked the moment he caught sight of her, lips parting as if he’d had to take a gasp of air. Kelsey smiled softly, holding tightly to the idea she could affect him so.
She hadn’t made it more than three paces when she was lifted off her feet by a wave of hot air, and the world went black.
Strength and love
Gypsy, present day
On his knees next to Kelsey’s body, Gypsy ran trembling hands gently along each of her limbs in turn. I found her. Thank you, God. I found her. The words circled through his head, still stunned by the blast that had taken out half of the Malcontents’ clubhouse. Prone on the floor, she appeared to have multiple bruises and scrapes, but no obvious breaks. The blood under her head was already growing tacky, dust from the decimated building settling in the pool and forming a gray skim across the top.
What if she isn’t okay?
He couldn’t imagine life without her. Cupping one hand underneath her neck, he held her firmly as he bent close. Thumb lifting one lid then the other, he assessed her pupils and breathing. Reactive and steady. A moment later, she jerked in his arms, a cough forcing its way out of her lungs and he watched her face closely, relieved as she blinked up at him, recognition clear in her eyes. Thank you, God.
“Wh-what happened?” To his still-ringing ears, her voice was thready at first, but even with so few syllables, it had grown stronger by the end. “Gypsy? What happened? The building. Oh, God, what happened?”
“There was an explosion.” He flattened a palm in the center of her chest, gently holding her in place. “Stay still, Kels. Let me make sure you’re okay.”
She tried to brush his hand away. “I’m okay. My head is pounding, but that doesn’t matter. What do you mean the building exploded? We’re inside still.” She struggled against his hold. “Let me up, Gypsy.”
“I just want to be sure—” He cut off, having to use both hands now to keep her on the floor. “Kels, stop it. Stop fighting me.” Gypsy bent close. “Your head was bleeding.” He tried to convince himself such a forceful argument had to mean she was okay. “I need to know you’re okay.”
“Gypsy, there’s been an explosion. People will need help. Let me up.” She stared at him, bright blue eyes flashing with fear and quick anger, demanding her way with a forcefulness he’d never seen from her before. “I’m fine.”
She’s okay. She’s really okay. Relief flooded through Gypsy and he shifted his hold, curling fingers around her arms and shoulders.
“Belle.” Blue Line called in the distance, voice coming from the most damaged part of the building. “Where the fuck are you?”
Gypsy kept focused as he leaned in a little nearer, holding Kelsey’s gaze while he closed the distance between them. Soft as a whisper, he brushed his lips across hers, coming back for a second pass that carried more pressure, held more of a demand. Her eyes widened, then her lashes sank to touch her cheeks, lids hiding her sky-blue eyes. He kissed her a third time, savoring the taste of her even in the chaos that surrounded them. Pulling back, he told her, “Give me this, darlin’. Let me make sure you’re okay.”
“Okay.” Her response came on an inrush of air. He fumbled around the back of her head while her eyelids fluttered open and closed before sticking on open. She had a small gash behind her ear, already clotting, hair matted to the side of her head. “How’s my head? Am I okay?”
So much more than okay. Without responding to her questions, Gypsy thrust his arms under Kelsey’s shoulders and knees, lifted her from the floor and cradled her to his
chest. “Let’s get outside. Get out of whatever this is.” The scent of burning plastic was much stronger when he was standing, the smoky air concentrated farther away from the floor. She didn’t protest, just rested her head on his shoulder, her nose brushing the side of his neck.
Outside, the scene was even more chaotic, firetrucks and police cars already scattered all over the lot. Since the blast had been along the backside of the building, the area where their bikes were parked was untouched, and he walked that direction. He found Bear, Tugboat, and Maggie already there, Maggie tending to Tug’s wound, which looked much like Kelsey’s.
“What happened?” Tug barked the question and Gypsy shook his head, glancing around at the milling crowd of Malcontents members. No one approached their little group and Gypsy let Kelsey’s legs down carefully, slowly setting her feet on the ground. “Dammit, Gypsy, buildings don’t blow up on their own.”
“Did you see anything?” Gypsy hadn’t. He’d been by the bar with Blue Line, having fled from Kelsey not even an hour before. “It looked like it was the back hallway that took the most damage, over by the pool tables.”
“Hurley and Mela walked off, headed to pay their respects to Blue Line before they hit the hay. I turned to ask Mags what she wanted to do and the next thing I knew I was on the floor.” He ducked away from Maggie’s fingers with a scowl and muttered, “Dammit, woman. That fucking hurts.”
“Bear?” Gypsy turned to him, drawing Kelsey against his body, back to his chest. He supported her with his arms, letting her lean back against him. “Did you see anything?”
Shaking his head, Bear grimaced. “I was sitting at a table with Carter, got blown against a wall. Table tumbled over and protected us against the worst of the shrapnel.” He shrugged, the movement exposing a gash on his shoulder, broad swaths of blood streaked down his arm. “I didn’t see much. There was a guy by the tables just before, talking to Blue Line’s old lady.”
Gypsy's Lady Page 23