by Lana Grayson
Jesus Christ, Temple had a source in ATF.
Not just one they paid.
One they fucked.
“I’m not running around.” Her voice garbled. Heathen grabbed her neck and squeezed the air from her words. “I swear! I’ll get you the stripper and Knight. I swear it.”
“You fucking better. You know what happens if they talk.”
Kitty pleaded with him. “You said I wouldn’t like it.”
“You won’t, but I will.” Heathen popped her again. “It was bad enough with Blade squealing. We gotta end this motherfucking shitshow before anyone else gets an opportunity to fuck us. Christ only knew who else he talked to about Temple or ATF. Fucker might not even be dead.”
“I swear Blade is dead,” she said. “I know it. We’ll get the girl and Knight—”
She said too much. Heathen forced her to drop to her knees. He ordered his partner to search through the club again. His belt unlashed. The zipper was too loud. I gripped the rigging as Agent Greene’s gags immediately echoed over the stage. Heathen enjoyed her coughing.
I listened for anything but the slobbering choke of the blowjob.
What the hell was happening?
And where the fuck was Luke?
My arms and legs prickled with fatigue and the aching pain of overstrained limbs. The silk bundled over my body, pinned against the metal frame.
I couldn’t hold the position anymore, and the instant that silk flapped over the stage, Heathen’s cock would blow its load down my throat.
I accidentally gagged.
Wouldn’t let it happen.
Heathen’s man crashed through the dressing room, bolting beneath me with a harsh profanity.
“She’s not fucking here!”
Heathen groaned over Agent Greene’s discomfort, his growl turning shrill as she whined against his cum.
“At least you’re good for something.” He tossed her away. “Get to your fucking office and find that stripper or it’s your asshole that gets fucked tonight.”
“I’ll find her.” She regained a shred of dignity. “I promise.”
Heathen wasn’t satisfied. With a shout, he flipped more tables and cursed every last corner of my club. I pinched my eyes closed as he loaded a fresh clip in his gun.
The bullets flew.
Everywhere.
The floors, the tables, the mirror.
He punctured my stage but aimed for the lights packed next to the silk’s rigging. Shards of glass and shredded bits of metal rushed over me. I fought a shriek, but the supports lurched, hard, as a row of lights bashed against the metal frame.
The rigging shifted.
I didn’t know what would hurt more—Heathen finding me or the crash to the stage.
Why they wanted me dead didn’t matter. Why Agent Greene sucked his cock wasn’t important. I tightened my core and tried to stay in balance on the rigging as the damn thing shook under me.
They had to leave.
Now.
Before it collapsed. Before I fell.
Before Luke walked into a fucking bloodbath.
I held my breath. It did nothing to stabilize the metal. Heathen yelled for Agent Greene. His buddy jumped off the stage.
The vibration ripped through the frame. The joints squeaked. More glass trickled from the light and layered a dangerous bed of shrapnel below.
My girls talked me out of doing any dance that required a safety net. I wished I had installed one now.
Heathen and his partner stomped outside. Agent Greene followed.
But the door hadn’t closed before the rigging violently swayed. I held my breath. My heart struggled to beat as the roar of Harleys in the parking lot rumbled outside the club.
I counted the seconds between the metal’s creaking. The grinding was constant. Not good.
My hands trembled, but I shifted the silk off my body and let it drape down. Just the weight of the material shuddered through the equipment.
This wasn’t going to be easy.
I released the metal and gripped the silk. One leg unhooked. An arm followed. I took a breath. It wasn’t fluid enough.
The metal screeched against the failing joints.
Shuddered.
Collapsed.
I fell.
Landing was pure agony.
I’d never fucking forgive myself.
The hospital was no place for a lady, and even less for a stick of TNT like Lyn. Too many oxygen tanks nearby and not nearly enough mirrors for her makeup.
She’d deny crying and downplay the pain, but the damage was severe. Her leg broke the instant she crashed against the ground. Fortunately, the rigging for the aerial silks saved her. Only her hand sliced open on the broken glass.
I was still covered in her blood.
She’d be pissed she ruined her corset. Even madder that she passed out in the ambulance.
I took my chances and leaned over the bed, brushing her hair from her face. She couldn’t move. The doctors completely immobilized her leg, and the nurses pumped enough drugs in her that she wouldn’t feel it.
Her eyes opened. Gone was the impish green. Those babies were full on nuclear.
“ATF.” She spoke. Regretted it. “Where’s…”
“You told me to keep them away.”
Her expression blanked, but she’d pretend like she remembered. God forbid the woman show any vulnerability even while in the hospital with a broken leg and concussion.
“I got hurt,” she said.
I’d tear the bone out of my own leg and give it to her just to ease her pain.
“What the hell were you doing in the silks?”
Lyn tried to sit up. I let her make the mistake. It was easier for her to learn from the pain than to take orders from me.
Her face paled as she realized how much she hurt. “Heathen and his cocksucker friend were looking for me. I didn’t have any other place to hide but…up.”
Christ, how desperate was she? I should never have let her be there alone.
Lyn reached for me. I offered her to the remote with the morphine.
She took my hand instead.
Squeezed.
“Agent Greene was there too,” she said. “Luke, she’s like…she’s like their sweet-butt or something. I don’t know.”
Those were some powerful fucking drugs. I doubted she realized what she was saying. “I don’t think you’re remembering things right. You hit your head on the way down.”
“Yeah, after I watched Greene blow Heathen.”
Holy shit.
Lyn struggled against the mattresses. The sheet pushed back, but she wouldn’t like what she saw. The gown didn’t cover enough of her bruises, and the splint held her leg stable. She paled, her fingers brushing the full-leg brace. She looked to me like I came after her with a sledgehammer.
How the hell was I supposed to tell a dancer how badly hurt she was? I faced drug dealers, meth-addicts, and murderers easier than the truth.
“You broke your leg. The doctor was in, but they were waiting to X-ray you when you woke up.”
“Oh my God.”
“Do you hurt?”
“You’re the smart one. Figure it out.”
Her hand squeezed, as much of an apology as I deserved. She collapsed onto the pillow. Her breathing rasped.
“Luke, we’re in trouble. None of what I heard makes sense. And whatever they have in this IV…” Lyn’s words slowed as she tugged on the plastic. “I feel like Keep.”
“Yeah, well he’s the one who helped me get you here.” I touched her cheek. “Lots of shit is happening, Lyn. You gotta start from the beginning.”
“I think…I think Temple targeted Blade. We killed him first…but now they’re after us—you and me and…” The morphine loosened her tongue too much. Her words slurred. “They want to kill anyone who helped Blade get out of jail.”
“Lyn—”
“We gotta get out of here. Can’t trust ATF. Don’t trust Temple.”
Her words chopp
ed. Not just the meds. Lyn struggled to move, but the pain crippled her. I’d slit my own fucking wrists if I watched her drop in agony again. I lowered her to the bed and tucked the blanket, hiding the rest of her battered body. Without the leather and corset, makeup and heels, attitude and sunglasses, Lyn looked remarkably…
Beautiful.
Fragile.
Vulnerable.
She’d hate it. But she didn’t push me away. Didn’t order me with an arch of her eyebrow or a flick of a wrist. Most of her nails broke from the fall, but the slice through her palm from the glass was worse. They already bandaged it, but she hadn’t noticed. Not yet. She could dance with a cut hand.
But a broken leg?
Who the fuck was I kidding? It wouldn’t slow her down. An injury like that would just piss her off.
I knew tough. I fought hard-asses. I dealt with enough defiant motherfuckers coming at me to prove themselves worthy of the 1%. But Lyn deserved a cut, earned her patches, and created the respect many men in the MCs refused to give a gash.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” Like those words meant anything to a woman in pain because of me. “I was too late.”
“They would have killed you.” Lyn didn’t look at her leg. “I’d rather take this than…”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.” Her lip trembled. She punished herself with a held breath. “This year was a disaster. This war was a nightmare.”
“Don’t,” I said. “Not worth dredging it up.”
“I could have lost you at any moment. Without ever telling you…”
“You don’t have to say it.”
“I’m in love with you, Luke.”
Fuck, I needed to hear that. Maybe without the IV and pages over the intercom, heart monitors and pain-killers.
“God, you’re an idiot,” Lyn said.
“What?”
Lyn’s eyes softened, the nuclear threat replaced with something softer…jade, maybe. Something far more beautiful than I deserved rolling through the streets in a torn leather vest with blood on my hands.
“We lost so much time,” she said. “And I can’t keep blaming you for everything. I want to, but I’m at fault too because I…I didn’t know what to do.” She swallowed. “I still don’t know how to feel. How to let you in. But if anything had happened to you…”
Her touch shouldn’t have felt so warm while she suffered so much. “You’re the one who got hurt.”
“I’m still the sexiest fucking invalid in this hospital.”
That she was, but she wasn’t getting out of my confession that easily. I leaned close, kissing the back of her good hand. I was supposed to return a token of her favor and drop to a knee, but this fairy tale hadn’t been very conventional until now.
“Lyn, I’ve had so many regrets in my life that I’ve started mistaking shame for pride. Hell, I’m sleeping with a gun at night instead of a beautiful woman.”
“And here I thought I was a grenade to you?”
“You’re just as volatile. That’s my fault too. You never should have been on your own. Never should have had to deal with the MCs alone and tried to prove yourself.”
“How chivalrous,” she said. “Come to save the girl again?”
“You’re goddamned right. I lost you once, Lyn. I’m not doing it again. You’re mine. My woman. My life. Probably the reason I’ll die young, but you’re worth it.”
She bit her lip, but it wasn’t playing coy. She knew exactly what she did to me. “You saying you love me too, Luke?”
“It’s gotta be more than love if you’re the only good decision I ever made.”
“Love isn’t about good decisions. It’s surviving the bad ones.”
“Even if I’ve made too many?”
“That doesn’t make it hard to love you. Just makes it dangerous.” She smirked. “I’m not looking for love-at-first-sight. If I’m not easy, I don’t expect a relationship to be.”
“You had me from the instant I met you,” I said.
“I’m trying not to think about the past, Luke. It doesn’t matter what happened then, I only care about what happens from here on out.” Her words trembled. “I need you to stay alive. Get me a happily-ever-after and make sure we have time to enjoy it.”
God, this woman. I leaned close, offering a gentle kiss. Those lips gave me reason to live. So did her touch. Her heart.
It wasn’t worth dying. She’d chase me to the afterlife to punish me herself.
I could think of a worse eternity.
A fist pounded on the door. I pulled away, but only Lyn saw me reach for the gun. My hand stilled as Keep grinned in the doorway, rubbing his shaved head. He must have missed with the razor or aimed the blade somewhere else, because the blonde was growing in. It wasn’t a color Brew or Rose shared.
“Do they got you on the good pain-killers?” Keep dropped a vase of flowers on the windowsill. I doubted he paid for it, but at least the thought was there. “I know a guy who can hook you up after you’re discharged.”
Lyn frowned. “You need new friends, Keep.”
He agreed, lowering his gaze. His weight shifted foot to foot. “I never apologized for flipping that truck.”
The whip cracked. Lyn’s eyebrow arched as she glanced to her leg. “I kinda got myself in a worse situation right now. Not too worried about that particular accident.”
“You okay?”
Her smile was forced, but Keep bought it. “Baby, I’m so good, I’ll dance circles around my other girls, even with a cast.”
“I’ll toss a couple hundreds at that.”
“Damn right, you will,” she said. “What the hell are you two doing together?”
Keep grinned. He lost his charm when he sacrificed his mind and soul to the drugs, but I recognized a familiar spark. “Luke and I got to reminiscing.”
“Over what?”
“Couple empty clips. Little blood in the street. Hell of a good time.” He rubbed his face. “Got some bad news though. I had to make a few calls and let people know what happened.”
“Who’d you tell?”
“Your new nursemaid.”
The steps echoed in the hall. I recognized Rose’s voice and the boot steps that followed.
This wouldn’t be a happy reunion.
Rose burst into the room. She lunged at Lyn, a barrage of questions, concerns, and voiced promises to help her however she could. I prevented her from leaning too far over the bed and pinning Lyn’s busted leg.
I readied to face Thorne.
I hadn’t expected he’d bring Gold and Reaper for the ride too.
“Son of a bitch!” Gold sneered.
I didn’t have time to pull my gun. Lyn grabbed me before I could move, but the motion wracked her in agony. Her warning eclipsed with pain.
And the aching tremor in her voice slayed through every one of my bones. If they hadn’t crushed under the weight of my guilt, they’d all snap at her bidding.
I damned myself long ago. If they wanted to kill me, they would. Lyn laid in the crossfire, but I edged clear, giving them a shot at me and not where my heart rested, strapped to the bed and sick with pain.
“Stop!” Rose leapt between us. She pointed at finger at Anathema and stilled me with a glance. “Everyone will stop. From this moment on, you will consider this hospital as part of Sorceress.”
That didn’t make much sense, but Lyn was half-naked, just like at her club. I could pretend, but I doubted Anathema wanted a play along.
Rose’s voice strained. She scolded Keep and warned Gold as he reached into his jacket.
“This room is neutral,” she said. “No guns. No fighting. For Christ’s sake, Lyn is hurt. Everybody calm down before something worse happens.”
It wasn’t the men Rose had to worry about. Lyn fumed, enraged by the interruption and probably more upset that so many of her friends invaded her room while she was most vulnerable. Fortunately, the drugs juiced her with enough medication to dull the pain and her to
ngue.
Lyn’s voice challenged anyone stroking a gun like their cock. “What the hell are you all doing here?”
Thorne’s stare was a warning—one that’d go unheeded. If he thought I’d let Lyn suffer in a hospital alone, we had bigger problems than the messages and ATF.
“Came to check on you,” he said. “Heard there was trouble.”
Lyn hadn’t rattled, but that viper would strike just the same. “Bullshit. I’m half-crippled because of this idiocy. I deserve the truth.”
Gold and Reaper made a move. Thorne snapped, but Rose acted first.
Her slap to Gold’s face echoed across the hospital room, practically the entire floor.
“Don’t you dare start a war here, James.” Rose stared him down, her voice just as sharp as when she chastised Keep. “I haven’t healed from the last one yet.”
The kitten still didn’t have a good hiss, but her teeth dug in this time. She’d only draw a little blood, but at least those tiny claws would make a man irritable. Thorne had enough. He gripped her around the midsection and tossed her behind him. Still, his hand pledged a quick peace.
“We’re getting info on Temple,” he said. “Trying to figure out what went wrong.”
“Yeah, me too,” Lyn said. She struggled to sit higher, folding her fingers into mine for support.
Anathema shifted.
A touch was all it took. A jacket over her shoulders or brand on her ass wouldn’t have spelled it out any better. Lyn was mine.
But I was still a dead man to the men I wronged.
And fate pissed on us again.
Shouts echoed from the hall, threatening the police. Grim winked at a nurse and twisted her away from the room. He and Vega burst inside, slamming the door behind them.
Now we were fucked.
Neither of my men realized they walked into an Anathema chapel. I doubted Thorne cared they were only my trusted officers left.
Guns pulled. Clips slammed. Rose shrieked as Thorne tossed her into the corner.
The silence was worse than a gunshot, and the tension would crack more skulls than fists.
“You’re all assholes,” Lyn said. “Go ahead. Kill each other. I’ll take out Temple myself.”
The guns lowered. She struggled to cover her bare foot from the cold. I couldn’t move with Thorne’s gun aimed at the center of my forehead, but Keep gave her an apologetic smile, edged around Grim, and tucked the blanket over her pink toenails.