Never Wed an Outlaw: Deadly Pistols MC Romance (Outlaw Love)

by Nicole Snow

  An hour later, we sat in my kitchen, listening to the noises down the hall. The prospects scrubbed things clean, disappearing every last trace of the Sicilians' DNA. Their bodies were already long gone.

  I didn't ask where. It wasn't any of my business. Ironic, I guess, because my entire miserable life just became an open book for the handsome angel of death sitting across from me.

  Dust had his hands on the table, staring me down like a lion. He'd refused the wine and whiskey I offered. Muttered something about how he never drank when shit went down. Not until it was over.

  Nothing except the truth would calm him down. I only got a few words in before the tears came.

  “I'm sorry...this is really hard for me to talk about,” I sputtered.

  He snatched my hand, squeezed it in his, and raised it to his lips. His lips landing on the back of my hand set me off all over again. Brutal anguish rolled out in waves, pure poison, fermented by the months I'd clung to my dirty, shameful secret.

  “Take as long as you need to dry your eyes, darlin'. Then you fuckin' talk. I ain't backing down 'til you tell me what the hell's going on here.”

  He deserved that much. I had to collect myself for him. Make no mistake, it hurt to admit I'd done wrong.

  Pain reached through me, hijacked my heart, and reminded me I'd done far worse than wrong. I'd almost screwed him over, and gotten myself killed, all in the same go.

  “I lied to you. Lied to my brother, to the law, and to myself.”

  “Already figured that much,” he said, his voice rough and low. “Why?”

  “Huck and me grew up with practically nothing. You've heard his stories, I'm sure, the Christmases we were lucky to get marbles and chocolate bars. The gun momma kept underneath her pillow, all of us sleeping in the same room...it shapes a kid, and not for the better. We lived under siege, grew up closer than any family ought to be. She'd be near us if the meth heads down the street broke in, tried to rob us, or worse.”

  “Everybody's got a sob story, darlin',” he said roughly. “Believe me, my heart's bleedin' for you. But I'm not seeing how it's the least bit fuckin' relevant here.”

  I looked at him angrily. “I'm getting there. I thought maybe if you knew the background, you'd understand.”

  “You're missing the whole point to this, babe. Am I pissed you lied to me? Sure.” His eyes narrowed, pulling me in a little deeper, into the endless storm raging in his grey irises. “Judging you for whatever the fuck you did or didn't do won't fix a damned thing. We can sort the rest of this out when you stop giving me your life story, and start telling me why the fuck I killed two assholes who wanted you dead.”

  I had to skip ahead. “Whatever. So, you know I did my interning with the Sterner Corp. I learned a lot, got a great education, thought I'd found my place up in the world. Just like how Huck became Firefly, and found his purpose in the club.”

  Dust nodded. I broke away, staring at the counter, the pain in my chest sharpening.

  “A job in Seattle with a good starting salary wasn't good enough after I interned. I wanted more, Dusty, and I jumped at the first person who gave me a chance. I had this idea for an app...the matchmaker software I've given my life to. Trouble is, it cost money, and I didn't want to do it the hard way, taking out loans, risking my credit, schmoozing angel investors. There was a man I met at a Sterner Corp party. He seemed legit. He got me drunk on champagne one night, got me to tell him all my big dreams about becoming a superstar.” More tears came, wild and hot. How had I been so stupid?

  “Everybody fucks up when they're young. Who was he?”

  “Dominick Barone. Loud, pushy, able to make things happen like magic. I didn't realize it was thanks to his mafia ties until after he put his claws in me. Sicilian Brotherhood. I looked them up when I realized things weren't adding up.”

  “One of the worst,” Dust growled. “Gonna be a pleasure to skin the motherfuckers alive.”

  I went on, trying to push the gruesome image out of my head. “I did the coding work in no time flat, and launched it with real marketing behind it. Bought and paid for by his generous investment. The thing earned millions in a few months. I was overwhelmed, ready to celebrate, and live it up a little. So, I bought myself this place while Dom shrugged off my questions about paying him back. He told me not to worry about it, said he'd come to collect when it was time.”

  Dusty's grip on my fingers grew hotter, angrier. “Motherfuckers. I've heard 'em going after the brilliant and gullible types before.”

  Ouch. Gullible hurt because it was true.

  “I guess that's fair,” I said, wiping my eyes. Yes, I deserved to feel like an ass in front of him, but it still stung viciously. “I was an idiot, Dusty. I took the bait, and I've been paying for it ever since. They made me set up a new account for their businesses, link it into my app's infrastructure. Money laundering, you know. They wanted more the longer this arrangement went on. Last time I met them in Seattle, they handed me a new project. I couldn't figure out how to hide the ridiculous things they wanted. It would've meant restructuring everything, and they wanted it done now. They expected me to work miracles...or they wanted me to die.”

  “That's why they were here tonight,” he said, giving a satisfied nod. “Every puzzle fits together real neat when you've got the right pieces.”

  I nodded glumly. “They had a gun to my head. Told me I'd die if I didn't fix what they wanted tonight.”

  New anger crossed his face. Dusty clenched my hand harder, brought it to his chest, and wouldn't let go.

  “I'd kill the motherfuckers again for that, if I could. How many more are there? Where are they based?”

  “Honestly, I don't know.” My stomach twisted as my worst nightmare came true, thinking about him and the club putting themselves in more danger just for me. “I usually met Dom out west, when I went back to Seattle for business. Please, don't do anything hasty. We need to figure out how we're going to keep everyone safe, first of all.”

  “Darlin'...” He stood up, came over to me, and cupped my face in his big hand. “You've been through a fuck of a lot for a woman as smart and sexy as you, so I'm gonna give you one pass. Focus on resting up tonight, knowing you're safe. Stop worrying about the rest. I run my club, and I'll figure this out. Make sure those mafia cocksuckers never threaten anybody again.”

  Suicide. That's what he was proposing. I heard it over and over in my mind while I looked into his eyes. This raging, arrogant, gorgeous man wasn't going to stop until he'd solved my problem once and for all. Not even if it killed him first.

  I sighed, shaking my head. “I lied to you because I didn't want to put anyone in danger. This is my problem, Dusty. I can't live with myself if it ends up hurting you, or Firefly, or any of the men.”

  “Wrong. Your problem turned into mine the second they started fuckin' with my girl. I'd be a sorry excuse for a Prez if I let any man rough up my woman, plus a brother's little sis. Far as I'm concerned, they fucked with club property. They fucked with what's mine. You ain't stupid, darlin'. You know how this goes. Whenever anybody fucks with the Pistols, we fuck back a hundred times harder. They're dead, first chance we get. How it happens, that's up to me. Not you, darlin'.”

  I nodded, more tears rolling down my cheeks, into his hand. He brushed them all away, clearing a path to kiss me.

  His lips brought me back to life. They forgave me, warmed me just as much as his words, the ultimate reminder that somebody actually cared.

  “Dusty...”

  “Enough. Go clean up and sleep like I said. I'll post a prospect outside your room if you're too scared to sleep. Nobody's coming or going without me knowing about it.”

  I shook my head. “No. I'm sure the men who died were the only ones here. And if they weren't, the Brotherhood won't be so stupid to come charging in a second time. I'll be fine.”

  “I'll crash next to you when I can,” he said, pulling his hand away from me. “Too much work to do first. Gotta make sure this mess on yo
ur doorstep is finished before I do anything else.”

  No argument here. Before I left him alone, I threw my hands over his neck one last time, standing on my toes to reach his glorious lips.

  “I'll never forget this, Dusty. Obviously, this night would've been a whole lot happier if I'd just gone to the wedding and told you what was going on. But I think it might be pretty special, anyway.”

  “Special?” He raised an eyebrow. “That what you call it when I pump a couple holes in the bastards who wanted you dead?”

  “No, crazy.” I pushed gently against his chest. “Special because you saved my life. No one's ever done that before.”

  And God willing, I hope they never have to again. I kept that thought to myself as I walked away, flashing him one more grateful look over my shoulder.

  The most unlikely hero in the world stood there like a giant, ready to rip apart anything that got in his way. I smiled, letting the insanity of the night finally take over.

  However fearsome, however stubborn, however insane...he was all mine.

  After everything that happened, it meant the world.

  10

  Laying Claim (Dust)

  A whole week went by since we wiped up their blood, dragged their bodies deep into the Smokies, and fixed Hannah's landscaping with our crew. I'd barely left her place to run the club.

  Thank Christ half the brothers were away on their honeymoons. But it was only a matter of time before Skin and Joker came back to raise hell, assuming the others didn't start to first. I'd brushed off Sixty, Lion, and Tin when they called to check on me.

  Firefly hadn't sent me shit. Long as he cleaned the guns and ran the patrols, he kept his distance, too pissed over me and Hannah to come knocking over me disappearing for a few days.

  Maybe he wondered why I had so many prospects pulling double duty. They'd keep their mouths shut if they wanted to earn their bottom rockers. If even one person squawked about doing extra patrols this side of town, near his sis' place, there'd be hell to pay.

  For her, I'd paid the devil's toll several times over. Wouldn't hesitate to do it again.

  Once you killed for a woman, something primal went off inside, an urge to destroy every last motherfucker who came around threatening her life.

  Hannah mostly stayed in her room, or worked on her computer, frantically messing with her software. She wanted to rip apart the money laundering scheme at the roots and get her app back on track as a legit one.

  The Sicilians probably realized she'd broken her chain. That meant I had to hit them first, before they could get it together and come digging for their dead men.

  Our attack goal came easy. Finding out where to hit them, and how...I'd rarely met as big a bitch as the problem staring us in the face.

  Wasn't easy doing research, just Hannah and me, desperately seeking out a lead on where they called home. Six days in, I wanted to tear her fancy place apart, knowing it was only hers because she'd built it under the gun. Worse, we couldn't find the bastards who'd made it possible, and mortgaging her life on death threats.

  “You look terrible, Dusty. Take a walk,” she said, looking up at me over the computer, wearing her glasses. “I'll stay here and work. We'll run into something sooner or later. Nobody keeps a clean nose online. A little more detective work, just a little while longer, and we'll have them.”

  Easy for her to say. She knew a lot about proxy this and deep web that. More than I'd know about computers if I gave up riding tomorrow and spent every waking hour at the keyboard.

  Right now, only thing I knew for certain, I wanted to take her to bed wearing nothing except those thick black frames around her eyes.

  “Keep the candle burning, darlin'. I'm going for a ride,” I told her. “I'll make sure the prospects hang out by the gate 'til I'm back. You stumble across a miracle that leads us to 'em on that thing, you let me know. I'll be back in thirty or forty.”

  Chances were, we wouldn't sniff out the Sicilians today. Too bad.

  The longer they stayed hidden pushed everything back – briefing the club, dealing with the fallout, coming to make them pay in blood.

  Patience, I told myself. Just a little while longer, like Hannah said.

  Nobody hid forever. This club had tracked and slaughtered more bastards who deserved to die than anybody else in the state. Meanwhile, there was another problem I could solve today, one with a solution a whole lot clearer.

  First, I headed home. Took me about twenty minutes to dig through the old tool crib in my garage. Besides the ratchets, hammers, and drills, I kept a few handguns locked up, plus several ghosts from the past.

  Found the little ring box lurking underneath some old newspaper. It was wrapped up in the same faded articles Ma put around it last year when she gave it to me. She said I should keep it safe, in case 'something happened' – the phrase she used for worrying about her own mortality.

  I'd snorted at her then, scoffed at the whole idea of holding onto my grandma's wedding ring. She told me to shut up and take it because she didn't have any use for it anymore. Because, one day, I'd find a girl worth giving it to.

  Seemed impossible at the time. Now?

  Fuck. I, Daniel Grayson, had officially fallen to his knees.

  Went down hard. Foaming at the mouth to end forty odd years of bachelorhood. The man who'd always pushed cupid down like some yappy little dog had his arrow lodged deep, and that shit was poison.

  I couldn't go on without seeing this old gold band on her finger. Couldn't breathe easy every day Hannah wasn't wearing my ink. Fuckin' her blew my brains out, but I wouldn't truly own her 'til I saw that ring against my dick every time she wrapped her fingers around me. Love wouldn't mean what it should 'til I bent her over, took her from behind, and saw PROPERTY OF DUST tattooed on her shoulder, her ass, wherever she damned well pleased, as long as she was mine.

  Clenching the ring box against my palm, I nodded to myself. Let's fuckin' do this.

  One more stop waited before I brought it to my woman.

  I rolled up to preacher man's door on the other side of town. Walked up the broken steps and pounded on his door 'til he opened up, greeting me with a cup of coffee in his hand and a flannel shirt around his skinny shoulders.

  “Dusty? Something I can do for you, son?”

  “Yeah,” I said, watching as the fear and respect flickered in his eyes. All these years later, he remembered how I'd saved his ass, and he owed me for the rest of his days. “Get dressed, climb in your truck, and follow me down the highway. I want a wedding, and I need it now.”

  His eyes bugged out, but he didn't argue. This guy knew when the club called, he answered, and gave us whatever the hell we wanted, without asking too many questions.

  I went back to my bike, waiting for him to lock up before I started the engine. We pulled out of his driveway and hit the road together, his truck behind me, heading for Hannah's place.

  We were home in no time. The prospects were gathered outside the fixed up bushes, pacing around leisurely as they had their smoke breaks. They looked at preacher man tailing me through the gate with more than a few questions in their eyes. I stopped in front of Apache, fresh meat wearing our prospect patch, just home from Afghanistan with no job in sight. We'd given him plenty to do in our garages.

  “Prez? There a reason we're seeing the preacher again?”

  “Stand guard in the house and find out. Pass that along to the rest of the boys,” I said. “Gonna need a few extra witnesses for what's about to go down. Get everybody inside, quick as you can.”

  He nodded one more time as I blew past, rolling through the huge iron gate. I climbed off my bike, grabbed the ring box from my saddlebag, and told preacher man to wait with the prospects 'til I returned.

  That little black box in my fist burned like a hot stone. I waited on Hannah's doorstep for about a minute before I shoved the door open and stepped inside.

  Today, I had a date with destiny to win over my wife. I wasn't going anywhere else b
efore I had a yes out of her.

  “Darlin', put that down, and come out back. We need to have a talk.”

  She looked up at me over her laptop, tucking a loose lock of soft, brunette hair behind her ear. “Now? I mean, I was just getting deep into the database. I'm digging into everything I can find about Dom in the Sterner Corp files. Mister Sterner graciously got my old access restored this morning.”

  “Now,” I said, giving her a shallow nod. “You'll be back talking to billionaires and playing detective as soon as we're done. Right now, we've got business.”

  That wasn't totally true. If my proposal went off like I planned, I'd have her down the hall in the library within the hour, with preacher man hitching us then and there. And we'd be marking the occasion by going upstairs, hitting the bed, and taking our pleasure 'til she knew I hadn't lost my mind.

  I'd show her this was real. Show her I meant for it to last forever.

  I loved this woman, dammit. No more denying that, no more running, and no more lies.

  I'd kiss her, hold her, and fuck her 'til she realized the truth.

  I stepped out onto her balcony and waited. Waited for her hands to land on my shoulders softly before I turned, looked at her, and invited her into those fires burning in my eyes.

  “What's wrong?” she asked, her eyes going wide.

  “Wrong question, darlin'. We both know what's wrong, what's eating at us, what we need to do to get the Sicilians off our asses. We're working on it.” I paused, grabbing her hand, pulling it close to my chest. “We're having a heart-to-heart because I want to put the mafia shit on hold for a second to remember what's right.”

  She tilted her head, a curious smile tugging at her lips. “You're talking about us?”

  I nodded. “You, me, and the next fifty years we're gonna have together on this Earth. I know it sounds crazy talking like that right now, and I damned well know it. Guess what?” I moved my arm around her, bringing her close, never breaking eye contact. “Doesn't fuckin' matter. Long as I've got you, and you're wearing a smile on your face, nothing else does. We'll settle with the Sicilians. Smooth things over with Firefly. Kill every asshole standing in the way of you, me, and the future we deserve. Leave the club biz to me. We got together in the first place because we both wanted to wind up in bed, darlin', but it's a whole lot more than that now. No denying it.”