Wicked Revenge: A Wicked Angels MC Novel

by Zoey Derrick

“It’s not that, but where’s the fun in that?” Whistler asks. “He dies and you live with the nightmares of watching his lights go out.”

  “Well, I’d planned on putting one in each foot and shoulder before I went there.” Again, she’s like a feisty fiery kitten that’s still got her claws. It’s hot as fuck and my cock throbs.

  “Now that’s an idea,” Pixie says. “You that good of a shot?” Pixie challenges her and Sticks busts out laughing.

  “I wouldn’t challenge her if I were you. Pix.”

  Pixie straightens up a little. “Oh, this could be fun.”

  Sticks shakes his head. “Your funeral, man, your funeral.”

  “Let’s go, outback.”

  “How in the fuck did we go from plotting a take down to a duel in the backyard?” Tryke laughs.

  “You got extra ammo?” Pixie asks Kiwi. She reaches into her cut pocket and pulls out two clips.

  “That gun legal?” Sketch asks.

  “Oh yeah,” Tryke answers. “I gave her that gun for her sixteenth birthday.”

  “Posturing at its finest,” I mumble and a few laughs ring out.

  The next thing I know, we’re in Tryke’s backyard, hay bales stacked, targets pinned to them. They’re made out of human forms. Tryke runs back into the house and returns a few minutes with pictures of Rooster and Gunnar taken from the feeds in the compound and he pins them to the targets.

  “What we playin’?” Kiwi asks and my cock strains in my jeans.

  “Whatever you want,” Pixie says and I watch as Kiwi checks her clip again and then loads the chamber.

  She stands, spreading her legs. Tryke’s chest puffs up with pride. She files off four rounds.

  “Oh shit,” Sketch swears and he starts laughing. Tryke’s fighting a laugh and I’m staring like an idiot with my mouth open.

  “Uh, sweetheart, you missed,” Pixie says as he looks at the target where there are four random bullets peppered through the paper.

  Sticks is practically on the ground because he’s laughing so hard.

  “Let me try that again,” Kiwi says, humor in her voice.

  She re-poses and fires off the next four.

  “Jesus,” Sketch says.

  My mouth is officially on the ground and Pixie is just glaring at the target. Still no bullets in the body on the target, but she hit the exact four spots she hit originally. She cocks her head in challenge to Pixie. “You’re up, slugger.”

  “Uh huh,” Pixie says and he repeats four shots, then immediately fires the next four. The pattern is nearly identical to hers.

  “Alright,” she smirks. “Kell, you got more bullets?” she asks and I see Tryke’s face light up when she uses her nickname for him.

  “You know I do,” he tells her.

  “We’re gonna need them.”

  These two continue posturing for another ten minutes. Pixie goes first on the second round and he clips the armpits of both targets from his position. Kiwi poses and shoots down the same holes Pixie left.

  The next round is Kiwi’s turn and she walks up to the targets and pulls off Rooster and Gunnar’s faces and returns to the invisible shooting line. She reloads her gun, all fifteen bullets locked and loaded. She steadies herself before she fires.

  “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine,” she says quickly as she fires.

  Sticks and Big Daddy are rolling with laughter and I cock my head at the target. She’s shot two eyes, a nose and a mouth on the target before sending one flying through the middle of his head. It’s nearly perfect.

  “Alright, so you can shoot when you’re standing still,” Pixie says. “Load it.” He nods to her hand. Tryke hands her the box of bullets and she reloads her gun. Pulling back the chamber, she’s ready to roll. Pixie takes up another target, replacing the one that’s been shot to shit. He pulls her smiley face one off and he holds it up to the sun, and the sun shines through it, leaving a smile face shining on his own. He folds it up and tucks it under his arm before hanging the clean one up. He returns the picture of Rooster’s head to the target.

  From this distance, I can barely make out Rooster’s ears. I don’t know how anyone can make a shot like that from here, but it’s obvious Kiwi is up to the challenge.

  “Alright, Kiwi. Give him your best. But you have to look at Tryke,” Pixie says. “Not the target.”

  I look over at Sticks who is obviously biting his tongue to stop from laughing. “Better yet, why don’t you stand in front of me, or behind me and you can cover my eyes,” she challenges. Now that Pixie is out of her line of sight, he’s moved over toward Tryke. She turns to face them both. Her arm extended, she starts walking toward them, firing in rapid succession over her shoulder, shell casings flying, her body moving, her eyes never leaving Tryke, my eyes never leaving the target.

  “Jesus fucking Christ,” I sputter as she fires off the last bullet.

  Four in his head, square, four in his chest and one in the general area of the target’s crotch. Her gun is letting off some smoke as she holds it up to her lips and blows the barrel.

  Tryke explodes with laugher. Sticks and Big Daddy are staring like idiots. She cocks her head at Pixie. “Care to challenge?”

  He puts his hands up in mock defense. “No, ma’am, I don’t.”

  “She keeps this shit up and Wicked Angels just might induct its first woman,” Big Daddy says, clearly shocked.

  “She rides too,” Tryke says, humor in his voice and light in his eyes.

  “Oh, now that’s one way to get under Rooster’s skin,” Cowboy, who’s been quiet since before we came out here, says. “Let her ride.”

  I walk up behind Kiwi as she holsters her empty gun beneath her arm. I wrap my arms around her and whisper in her ear, “My dick is so fucking hard right now. I want to bend you over and fuck you stupid, right here in front of everyone.”

  “Caveman,” she murmurs, humor coloring her tone.

  “You ever want a job, give me a call,” Sketch says. “I know a few guys who could learn a thing or two from you.”

  She laughs, “It’s one thing to shoot a paper target, it’s a whole other thing to shoot a living being.”

  “Don’t let her bullshit you. I took her hunting once. Just once. Sticks shakes his head. “She nailed that dear perfectly in the chest, it barely bled it died so fast.”

  “Oh bullshit,” she counters. “Exaggerating much?”

  “Okay, it bled, but not as much as it would have, it literally dropped dead.” Sticks puffs up proudly.

  “I have to get to work,” Kiwi says. “So what’s the plan?”

  We spend the next hour going over the details before we leave. Cowboy calls Loni to let her know Kiwi’s been held up but she’d be there before it gets really busy.

  Before we leave, she reloads her gun and her two spare clips from Tryke’s stash and puts them back in their places. Tryke stands before her, and all the questions, answers, and mixed emotions between them are palpable. I step back, watching from a distance, allowing them a minute to themselves.

  Kiwi touches the scar running down Tryke’s cheek and he wipes a tear from hers. They don’t appear to say anything; they don’t need to, not really. I’m just glad the secret’s out of the bag. I couldn’t stand holding it in anymore. It’s bad enough she had a reason to hate me over it, holding it in much longer and I was gonna fucking lose my shit.

  It was the unspoken secret between us. Cowboy is the only other Roswell Angel who knew. We never let Opie in on that fact. We were too afraid he’d figure out a way to use it to his advantage. I guess maybe we always knew Opie would turn tail as soon as he could.

  She climbs on the back of my bike and her hand traces over my cock. “Bitch,” I groan and she laughs against my back. She keeps it up the whole way back to her place.

  It’s five-thirty when we arrive and Piper is eating when we step into the house. She comes over and gives Kiwi a hug and then latches on to me. “Missed you, Loki,” she says then she kisses my
cheek.

  “What have I become? The invisible woman?” Lily teases her.

  “Loki let me have ice cream for lunch,” she reminds me.

  “This is true.” Lily nods and smiles. “He did, didn’t he? Yeah, I’d miss him too.”

  I set Piper down and she takes my hand. “I want to show you something.” She pulls me toward the kitchen.

  “I’m gonna go get ready,” Kiwi lets us know and she disappears.

  Piper shows me a drawing she did. “What’s that?” I ask her.

  “It’s you, mommy, and me,” she says pointing to each of us respectively.

  “What are we doing?” I ask her.

  “Riding your bike.” Her excitement is clear. Her personality is dripping off the page she’s colored, and I can tell she’s gotta be a handful in school, but her drawing is really good.

  “Well done, princess.” I kiss her on top of her head. “I’m gonna go find mommy, okay?”

  “Okay,” she says but wraps her arms around my neck for a tight squeeze before she lets me go.

  Leaving Piper to her coloring, I start toward Kiwi’s bedroom. My cock is hard as fuck, but with each step I grow more and more pissed off. There’s been a lot of fucked up shit these last twenty-four hours, but what I can’t fathom is why revenge is so important to her? I get it, I want Rooster, Gunnar and maybe even Opie, dead, too, but that’s my job, not hers. Not when she has my daughter to take care of.

  Why? Her parents are gone, left her at a young age so why in the fuck would she risk her life and leaving Piper without her?

  I need answers.

  I keep walking down the hall and into her bedroom, expecting to see her there, but I don’t, instead I find her in the shower.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  KIWI

  “Loki?” I call when the bathroom door opens, I get no response.

  I shrug, must be my imagination.

  Then the curtain is drawn back and he’s standing there, buck naked, cock hard, a fierce expression on his face. “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  “Shut up,” he growls and steps into the shower, grabbing my shoulder and spinning me around, pressing me against the tile. He places his forearm at the back of my neck, locking me in place.

  “Loki, what the fuck?” I growl but it’s pointless. His hand slides up between my legs and my body trembles at his touch. The hold he has over me when it comes to sex kills me, but this is so much worse. My body is igniting with desire and yet all I want to do is slap him.

  He pushes my legs apart then wraps a hand around my waist, pulling me toward him a little. His arm moves from my neck and his hand slides into my wet hair, gripping it tight and holding me to the wall.

  Without warning, he pushes himself inside me, hard, fast.

  Angry.

  I cry out.

  “Loki, please,” I beg him. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Shut. Up.” He emphasizes each word. There’s an unspoken threat tacked on to the end of those two and I cringe away from him.

  He picks up his pace, faster, harder. My body comes alive with the need to come, despite the tears forming in my eyes. I don’t say anything, afraid of what he might do if I did.

  A few more pumps into me and he pours his seed into me with a growl.

  He pulls out and holds me to the wall as he rinses his cock in the water.

  Then he steps out of the tub before letting me go.

  My head is screaming that I should slap him, but I can’t move. I remain frozen as Loki disappears into my bedroom.

  The tears I’d been holding back consume me and my knees give out.

  After a few minutes I manage to pull myself together and finish my shower and climb out. I gingerly towel off. He didn’t hurt me, not physically at least, but I can’t even begin to wrap my head around why the fuck he’d do something like that.

  I was in the shower long enough for him to dress and leave, that was the point after a couple minutes. I wanted him gone and out of the house. Knowing he wouldn’t stick around after something like that pushes me into motion, I have to go to work.

  I towel off quickly and toss the towel in the hamper in my bathroom and go into my bedroom to find my outfit for tonight.

  A squeak tears through my throat when I see Loki, fully dressed, sitting on my bed. “What in the fuck was that? What the fuck are you still doing here?” I screech at him and his eyes meet mine. There’s some unnamed-never-before-seen emotion playing in his eyes. It’s a combination of anger, pain, and something else. “Get out,” I tell him.

  He stands, rounding the bed and coming toward me. He gets to me before I can make a break for it. His hand slides around my throat, not painfully, but enough to know it’s there and he pushes me into the wall next to my dresser. “Give it up,” he growls.

  “What the fuck, Loki?”

  “Your vendetta, give it up.”

  I glare at him. “What are you talking about?” He shoves against me a little harder, again, not painful, just enough to remind me that he’s driving this circus.

  “Rooster, Gunnar, give it up,” he growls.

  “No,” I snap.

  “How?” His voice softens at the same time as his eyes do. “How can you possibly put yourself in a situation like this and never once think about the consequences of your actions?” he asks and I’m baffled.

  “What consequences?”

  “What happens to her,” his free hand points toward the door, “when you don’t come home? Does she deserve that, Lily? Does our daughter deserve to grow up without you just so you can settle a score?”

  I let out a rushed breath and sag against him, giving up my physical fight in hopes that he’ll let me go. “She’s the reason I’m doing it,” I breathe. He releases me, but keeps his body pressed to mine. “I need her safe.”

  “She was safe in Boulder,” he snarls at me.

  My eyes widen at his tone. He’s never been so pissed off at me before and I don’t get it.

  “You brought her back here, you made her unsafe, Kiwi. She was safe there and now? Now they know about her, they know she exists and if they can use Jess and Hunter to get to Taz and Opie, what makes you think they wouldn’t use Piper to get to you?”

  His words slice through me like a hot knife through butter and my knees weaken.

  Loki’s hand comes to my face and I flinch. His eyes widen in shock then his features soften in regret. “I’d never hit you,” he breathes. “I may get rough with you, Lily, but I will never, ever hit you.” He’s growling in anger toward the end.

  “Reflex,” I whisper.

  “Give it up, for Piper, for me? Please. Let me take care of this,” he pleads.

  “I can’t.” My voice comes out breathy and barely audible.

  “Yes, you can. For her. For me.” He lowers his face to mine, inches away from my lips. “I will not let anything happen to you or Piper, not now, not ever. Please, let me do this my way.”

  “We have a plan,” I counter.

  “Fuck the plan.” The hand near my face gently strokes down my cheek. “You’re more important to me than any plan they make. Let me finish this. Let me finish what we started. Stay out of it, stay away from it. Just let us do this our way, please?” he pleads. His voice grows more urgent with each word. More desperate. His eyes flicker back and forth between mine, unable to focus on one or the other, mine are doing the same. Reading him.

  Can I do this? Can I give it over to Loki to handle, for Tryke to do as he’s always done and protect me? Protect Piper?

  I know the answer. I knew the answer the moment Piper was born. I knew, despite the years behind the gun, taking self-defense classes, learning to fight, that in the end the Angels would handle it. I wanted them to handle it. Sure, I would be pissed, at first, but eventually, knowing those men could no longer harm me would bring me the peace I’ve been searching for. The club has always protected its own. Why should I be any different? But I want, no, need a finite way to feel that revenge is m
et.

  Can I truly step back now and hand it over to them?

  “Okay,” I breathe and Loki relaxes instantly, his hands cupping my cheeks, lifting them up to his lips and he presses into me. His cock hard, my pussy still wet from the shower, my need to come balancing on a blade’s edge. His lips gently press into mine.

  They’re warm, soft, everything opposite of the war that was raging through him a minute ago. He gently strokes my cheeks with his thumbs. His kiss is different, he’s different. Not just from the shower, but period.

  His gentle kisses continue and my heart nearly explodes in my chest. This is it; this is what kissing your lover feels like.

  I wrap my arms around his neck, holding him to me as tight as humanly possible. I can’t get close enough to him. I can’t pull him into me the way I need to feel him.

  With my arms around his neck, I use that as leverage to lift my legs. He catches on quickly and presses me further into the wall. I don’t care that he’s dressed and I’m completely naked.

  All the words he’s said, all the looks he’s given, his demands that I back off, all of it has come to this. He’s protecting what’s his, he’s claiming what belongs by his side and he’s doing it with unconditional love and devotion. And he’d do it with or without his brothers at his back. My revenge is his revenge in a sense.

  I pull back from the kiss, our hooded eyes meet. “Finish it,” I breathe.

  And finish it, he does.

  “Take your bike,” Loki says as we’re leaving the house.

  I’m an hour and twenty minutes late for work, and even though Loni knew I’d be late, it still makes me crazy. I hate being late. “Are you fucking nuts?”

  He gives me a smirk that says, ‘well, duh,’ and adds, “Want to piss him off, ride the bike.”

  “One minute you want me in the middle of all this, the next minute you’re fucking me in the shower like a caveman because you’re pissed off and you want me to back off, the next you want me to rile him up? Seriously, Loki, you’re making my fucking head spin.”

  “Just because I want you safe, doesn’t mean you can’t have a little fun in the process.” He winks.