Flamed with Courage: Notorious Devils (Cash Bar Book 3)

by Hayley Faiman

  WHITLEY

  There’s a loud banging on the door. “Kitten, it’s me, open up,” Free’s voice calls out. I stand, hurrying toward the door and I flip the lock open and yank on the handle.

  He’s breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling with each pant of his breath. “You’re okay,” he murmurs, wrapping me in his arms and crushing me against his chest.

  “I’m fine. Did you find out who hurt DD?” I ask.

  He grunts, his lips touching the top of my head before he speaks. “I think it was Dawg, but we don’t know yet.”

  I wrinkle my nose, tipping my head back. “Dawg, really? He seems a little odd, but nice enough,” I shrug.

  “Don’t worry, I just, I had a feeling. Why don’t you come and sit with me for a while? We’re conducting interviews,” he offers with a smile.

  I think about sitting next to him, while man after man is brought in and questioned and I just can’t do it. “Can I maybe just go on up to our room and try to take a nap?” I ask.

  He looks down at me, his eyes searching my own and he frowns. “You okay?”

  Lifting my chin up, I give him my fakest bright smile and nod. “It’s just… this has all been so surreal. I need to rest, and I can’t do that in here. Poor DD,” I rasp, my eyes and face dropping to my feet.

  Free runs his hands up and down my back in a soothing, comforting motion. “Okay, Kitten. Let’s get you to our room.”

  Together we walk toward the room we share. Free makes me stand in the doorway as he looks around, ensuring that nobody is hiding to hurt me. Once he deems the room clear, he closes the distance between us. Lowering his face, his lips brush mine in a gentle kiss.

  “When I’m done, we’ll have a quiet evening inside. Just you and me, naked,” he mumbles against my mouth.

  “Sounds perfect,” I breathe. He kisses me one last time, his tongue sweeping through my mouth before he releases me and steps around me.

  “Lock the door,” he orders. I step inside of the room and quietly close the door before I lock it.

  Walking over to the bed, I sit down, then slowly lay down. Tucking my hands under my cheek, I close my eyes. I need to sleep, and hopefully I won’t dream about Free, Gemma, Zachary, or DD. I have a feeling that is too much to ask though.

  A noise startles me. I sit straight up, placing my hand on my chest as I look around. There, standing with his back to the closed, a once locked bedroom door is Jack. “You’re dead,” I point out.

  He chuckles. “Nope. Think again,” he grunts. “It was a good diversion though, wasn’t it? Killing the whore.”

  “Why?” I ask, backing up against the headboard.

  He smirks. “Zachary may be dead, but the other compounds are open. You, my sweet little pear, you are perfect to take as a housewarming gift. Now, c’mon, breeder,” he barks. I jump at his demand, but I don’t move from my place on the bed.

  I don’t bother looking around, knowing that the room is spotless, because I cleaned it myself before we left this morning. The only weapon is a knife that I put in the top drawer of the dresser, and I’m nowhere near fast enough to grab it before Jack could stop me.

  “Why didn’t you go after Hayden?” I ask, trying to stall. Hayden was his, at least in the beginning before she caught Zachary’s eye.

  He spits on the ground, his cold eyes lifting to mine. “She’s corrupted, tainted, and dirty. Odds are that disgusting, vile animal knocked her up. You aren’t as stupid, are you?”

  Thinking about his question for a split second, I shrug. “I could be pregnant,” I state. It isn’t a lie, Free did come inside of me once without a condom. I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow for birth control at the clinic, but it’s possible I could be pregnant with Free’s baby, technically.

  Jack shakes his head. “No, I’ve seen the way he fucks you and then defiles you by spilling his release onto your back. Or the way he puts on a condom. You, sweetness, you are still only marginally tainted,” he winks. “Once I fill you with clean, pure, seed you’ll be okay again. You’ll be a prize for me, to show off in Texas,” he explains.

  “How did you know I was here?” I ask.

  He smirks, leaning forward like he has a secret. “Those animals are stupid. Dawg is one of us, which is why he was so attracted to you, Whitley. A nice strong body to birth children one right after the other. Heavy tits to feed them with. You’re a fucking boon.”

  “Dawg?” I exhale, ignoring his talk about my body. He’s vile and disgusting, and I’ll never go with him. “You and Dawg killed, DD. To take me,” I whisper.

  He chuckles. “Well, Dawg sacrificed himself for the cause. He’s a good soldier, one of our last to infiltrate the Notorious Devils up here. We’re all but a dead group here. You and me, we’re the last. Our only hope of survival is finding sanctuary in Texas.”

  I don’t tell him that Texas would be a lost cause. I don’t tell him, just in case he gets away with kidnapping me, I’ll need the Notorious Devils in Texas to save me. I hate that I’m just some damsel in distress, but that is exactly what I am.

  “I just need to grab a few things,” I explain.

  Jack shakes his head. “Sorry, sugar, not this time. That’s how they found Hayden, she left a fucking clue or some shit, I ain’t dumb enough to fall for that twice,” he states with a nod.

  I don’t tell Jack that he is that dumb. I don’t explain to him that Free is somewhere in this building, and all I’ll need to do is scream, which I plan on doing, as soon as we’re anywhere near the bar area. Or if I make it outside, I plan on screaming and running, like a crazy person.

  Sliding off of the bed, I slip my feet into my sandals, knowing I can kick them off easily if I need to sprint. Jack steps to the side and pulls out a gun. I don’t care, I’m still making a run for it, gun or no gun. I do not want to be abused by him, and I have no doubt that he will abuse me.

  Free cannot handle a second woman in his life who has been violated. I can’t see more sadness seep into his pretty dark eyes. I plan on filling his heart with so much love that it comes close to exploding. I plan on making him smile every day, for the rest of his life, and being what he needs me to be.

  I plan on making him fall in love with me. What I don’t plan on doing is being this jackholes prisoner, sex slave, or baby maker.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  FREE

  Something isn’t right about what’s happening right now. Sure, Dawg is in on DD’s murder, but it’s bigger than that, I can feel it. Crooner brings in brother after brother, and once they’ve all been interviewed, it’s obvious this is all Dawg’s doing, and nobody else. I shake my head, turning to look at Snake.

  “This stinks,” I mutter.

  He lifts his chin. “It does, it smells like Aryans, but I know Dawg’s background is clean, I checked it my fucking self,” he says.

  I suck in a breath, closing my eyes and then slowly reopening them. I don’t know what it is, but it’s bigger, it feels bigger, so much so that it’s almost suffocating. “Guess we need to question him then,” I grunt.

  Snake stands, running a hand through his hair. Crooner tugs on the end of his beard and I inhale a deep breath before letting it out. Walking out of the church room, I decided to check on Whitley before we go interrogate Dawg.

  “Checking on Whitley, then I’ll meet you out there,” I call out to Crooner and Snake.

  Snake lifts his chin. “I’m going to call, Ginger, check on her and Evalyn,” he says.

  “I’m going to call Cash Bar, check on Hayden,” Crooner mumbles.

  “Meet up in ten,” Snake calls out. I lift my hand in a wave to show that I acknowledge him, then turn and jog toward my room.

  Wrapping my hand around the knob, I hear voices inside and I freeze. They’re muffled so I can’t make out the actual words, but I definitely hear Whitley’s feminine voice and a man’s voice.

  Taking a step back, I pull my gun out from the waist of my pants. Holding my piece loosely at my side, I le
an my back up against the wall and wait.

  The bedroom door opens a few seconds later, and Whitley is shoved out of the room, Jack right behind her. I know it’s him, I spent hours studying his photograph when we looked for Hayden. I thought he was dead. Lifting my gun, I point it directly at his head. Without a moment’s hesitation, I pull the trigger.

  Whitley screams, at the same time Jack’s mouth opens and he gasps before falling backward. Reaching forward with my free hand, I wrap my fingers around her bicep and roughly pull her against my chest. The scene happens in seconds, but feels like long slow-motion minutes. That is until the hallway fills with men.

  Whitley sobs against my chest, and I hold her tightly, pressing my hand against her back, while my other is still holding my gun at my side. “What the fuck?” Crooner yells.

  Turning my head, I notice that he’s white as a sheet. “He’s gone now, for good,” I announce.

  “But how?”

  Whitley draws in a deep breath, turning to face him. “He claims he was the only one to get away. He said Hayden was of no use to him anymore, which is why he came for me. He also told me that Dawg was in on it all and that he was sacrificing himself for the cause, he was going to take me to Texas, for sanctuary. He said their leader was there,” she fires rapidly.

  “I’m sick of this fucking shit,” Snake shouts. “Goddamn fucking sick of it.” I watch as he pulls his arm back, balling his fist, and slams it against the wall.

  “They killed DD for a distraction,” Whitley mutters through trembling lips as she looks up at me.

  Dropping my chin, I press my mouth against hers. Her lips are wet from her tears, but I don’t give a fuck, the salt mixed in with her own natural flavor tastes good, phenomenal even.

  My fingers fist at the back of the dress she’s wearing, the one I tore earlier to show my mark. A gesture that in the end didn’t really fucking matter all that much. Jack didn’t give a fuck, he was going to take her and abuse her anyway.

  Lifting my head, I look over to Crooner. “Take her, lock her up with Jizzy,” I mumble.

  His brows knit together, but he doesn’t question me, as he fucking shouldn’t. Moving my hand from her back, I gently push her away from me, and closer toward Crooner.

  Whitley doesn’t protest, but I see the confusion clearly laced in her features. I shake my head, and she doesn’t argue or fight me. I’m sure she’ll have questions later, but right now I can’t really look at her.

  Once again, me being who I am, wearing this cut, and being involved with the Devils could have harmed another innocent woman.

  I can’t do this anymore.

  I can’t hurt her.

  I care too fucking much about her to see her end up like Gemma. If Whitley was hurt, it would maim me on the inside, not just hurt me, but fucking destroy me. It feels like I’m doing Gemma’s memory injustice, but I feel more for Whitley than I ever did her.

  “Bring his body to the warehouse, drop him in front of Dawg,” Snake growls.

  He turns and walks away. It takes three prospects to pick up Jack’s lifeless body and I follow behind them as they carry him toward the warehouse.

  The warehouse is quiet when we arrive. Snake is standing across from Dawg, his arms crossed and staring at him. Dawg is hanging from a hook that is anchored in the ceiling. His arms are above his head, his feet dangling, and he looks pathetic. He’s got tears streaming down his face, and I wonder if he realizes he was played by Jack, by his own organization, to be the patsy.

  “You ready to talk, or do we need to torture information out of you?” Snake barks.

  Dawg’s head lifts from the staring competition he’s having with Jack’s body, to look up at Snake. “Doesn’t matter. It’s done now,” he states.

  “Does the compound in Texas know that our men are on the way? A leader was mentioned. Who is their leader?” Crooner asks, his voice booming throughout the metal building.

  Dawg grins. “You really should talk a little quieter when you’re in church, you know the walls are pretty fucking thin.”

  “Fuck,” Snake hisses.

  “Can we kill him yet?” I ask, pulling my knife out of my hip holster.

  Snake doesn’t even flinch or turn his head toward me. “Have at it, Free. I have some phone calls to make,” he states. I watch as he turns and swiftly walks out of the warehouse.

  Crooner doesn’t move a muscle though, and I’m not surprised that he wants in on this. “How do you want to do this?” I ask him.

  “Slowly,” he grins.

  Dawg’s eyes widen, and I hear him whimper like a fucking pussy. Raising my knife up, I take a step closer, pressing it against his bare chest. I make a slice, not too deep, but enough to cause him to cry out in pain.

  Crooner chuckles, “He’s such a goddamn pussy, no wonder they sacrificed him.”

  I watch as he brings a knife toward the other side of Dawg’s chest and makes an identical mark to my own. That’s how we spend the next two hours. Slicing the fuck out of Dawg, eventually we put him out of his misery, but not until he begs and pleads for his life.

  WHITLEY

  Jizzy stares at me. I don’t know what to say to her. We aren’t friends, we’ll never be friends, but that doesn’t mean that I have to be mean to her or anything. I give her a smile, wiping the wet tears from my face. She doesn’t even respond; her eyes are looking straight ahead, and she looks almost comatose.

  “I’m really sorry about, DD. Were you guys close?”

  She finally looks over at me and gives me a shaky smile. “We were friendly, you know us clubgirls have to stick together, but we weren’t really friends. I didn’t even know her real name,” she explains.

  I nod, completely understanding her words. I was pretty well isolated from the rest of the women at the compound, but when I wasn’t, I understood that there is a certain type of sisterhood with women when you’re in some situations. That’s what DD and Jizzy had, a sisterhood.

  We spend the next few hours with idle chit chat, just trying to keep from sitting in silence. The door flies open and I expect to see Free standing on the other side, but it’s Crooner. His eyes meet mine and they look almost sad.

  “Go on up to Free’s room,” he says lifting his chin toward me.

  I don’t question him or make any kind of protest. Standing, I look back at Jizzy who is looking at me with something akin to pity. Maybe I should be feeling sorry for myself as well. I don’t though. This is just something that I’m going to have to deal with.

  Whatever decision Free has made, I know what it stems from now, the place it comes from. He won’t be thinking about me, he’ll be thinking about Gemma and how I was almost delivered the same fate as her. He’ll be thinking about how he can’t protect me, not even with his name inked onto my body. He’ll be thinking about how I’m not safe, and I’ll never be safe—just like Gemma.

  Once I’m inside the room, I slowly close the door behind me, then go in search of a new dress. This one is torn and I’m frankly tired of wearing it. Hurrying, I slip it on over my head and body, just as the door opens. This time it is Free standing in the doorway.

  “It’s okay,” I whisper. His head jerks and he looks at me with obvious confusion. Sitting down on the edge of the bed I inhale a deep breath. “I’m assuming you don’t want to be with me anymore. It’s okay,” I explain.

  “I don’t want to be with you anymore?” he asks, his words coming out slowly.

  I nod. “I know about her, about what happened to Gemma,” I blurt out. I shouldn’t have said it right now, I should have waited, but apparently, my mouth was faster than my brain.

  Watching Free, he takes a step back, his eyes widening from my admission. “You may think you do, but you don’t know, Whitley,” he states.

  Shaking my head, I push some of my hair out of my face. “I was looking for a gun, for a weapon in Snake’s office. I came across a file and it was all there. A picture of the two of you before she was hurt, then a detailed accountin
g of what happened to her, with photographic evidence of her attack. It was awful, and it’s okay if you can’t do this. I’m not her, but I understand why you were so insistent on the tattoo, and everything,” I explain.

  Free’s eyes narrow and I watch as he clenches his jaw. “You know everything then. You know what I want, or need, or don’t want? You know all there is to know about me?” he poses his words like a question, but I know they’re anything but.

  “I don’t know everything there is to know about you, Mason. I never said that I did. I can just imagine that after what’s just happened, you won’t want me anymore.”

  Free shakes his head. “We got the house. Furniture will be delivered tomorrow. I leave Monday. We’ll discuss this when I get back, maybe,” he announces.

  I watch as he turns away, slamming the door behind him. I fucked up. I should have never told him that I knew. I should have just waited to see what his response and reaction was going to be to this entire situation. I should have kept my fucking mouth shut.

  I’m an idiot.

  Now I’m alone, again. Lying down on the bed, I curl into a ball on my side and pinch my eyes closed tightly. I almost had it all. I almost had everything I could have ever dreamed of having, but I screwed it all up.

  Tears slide down my face from my closed eyes. I’m unable to even attempt to hold them in. I’m emotionally and physically exhausted. All I want to do is sleep, and hopefully when I wake up this nightmare of a day will be over, and I can figure out how I’m going to fix what I messed up between Free and me.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  FREE

  Mason Kelly. That is my real name, the name my parents gave to me at birth. I haven’t been called Mason in seventeen years. The last person to breathe that word was Gemma, then Snake just the other day. Sitting down at the bar, I close my eyes, inhaling a deep breath and letting it out.

  “High emotional turmoil happening around here today, do not let it fuck with you, brother,” Snake mutters next to me.