Lou slashed the air again and again, advancing every time – and each time I backed up.
Fiona ran down the ramp.
I knew what she was doing – she was going for one of the guns – either Lou’s Colt, or the Glock I’d thrown away.
She was planning on finishing him to save me.
Lou knew it, too, because he tried to fake me out with a jab – and then he gave it his all, slashing at me hard.
I dodged him – but I was busy watching his right hand, the one with the knife.
Not his left hand, which connected with my jaw.
God dammit!
It wasn’t much of a punch – he threw it with no wind-up, no power, basically just a love-tap – but it was enough to hurt. Enough to distract me.
And now I was caught between the horns of a bull.
If I went for the knife, he would use his left hand to grab my gun from the back of my jeans.
If I went for his left hand, he’d stab me. Same thing if I tried to pull my gun – he’d have a brief second to attack.
So instead, I did what any good street fighter would do:
I stepped in close and head-butted the motherfucker.
Lou staggered backwards, stunned.
I had one second before he recovered.
I used it.
The most powerful punch I had, right to the asshole’s nose.
BAM!
Lou staggered backwards in a shower of blood.
I grabbed his knife-hand and brought his forearm down as I kicked up with my knee – just like I was breaking a branch over my thigh.
Sounded like one, too.
SNAP!
Lou screamed and dropped the knife.
One more punch to the jaw and he went down.
I dropped on top of him, knees on either side of his chest, and just started pounding his face. Punch after punch, hard as I could throw them.
WHAM
“THAT’S for threatening my woman, you motherfucker!” I roared at him.
WHAM.
“And THAT’S for Kade!”
WHAM.
“And THAT’S for Ali!”
WHAM.
That was when I lost control. Something inside me snapped.
My vision went hazy and red. There was a ringing in my ears.
I just kept hitting him, over and over –
“And THAT’S for the club – ”
WHAM.
“And THAT’S for Benjy – ”
WHAM.
“AND THIS IS FOR ME, YOU SON OF A BITCH!”
CRACK!
I felt a light touch on my shoulder. I spun around in an animal rage, staggering off of Lou, ready to kill somebody, anybody –
Fiona stood there, her face horrified, mouthing my name.
I couldn’t hear her. The ringing in my ears was too loud.
That was when I noticed ten guys in helmets and tactical gear standing around us in a circle, assault rifles aimed at my head. Across their black bulletproof vests were white block letters: DEA.
I looked around in wonder, feeling drunk and stupid.
Where did THOSE guys come from?
The ringing began to fade, and I heard Fiona’s voice: “Jack… Jack…”
Agent Fordham strolled out from between two DEA troopers. He was dressed in black, too, but no helmet.
He gave me the once-over, then looked at something behind me on the ground.
I turned and followed his gaze.
Lou was dead. He had to be; his face didn’t resemble anything human anymore.
I looked down at my own hands, bloody and swollen and split across the knuckles.
Shit.
I’d lost it.
I looked at Fordham as he peered at Lou’s corpse. “Well, you did a number on him, didn’t you.”
I didn’t know what to say, but Fiona spoke up. “He admitted to killing Eddie.”
Fordham looked at her in shock. “He what?”
“He was taunting us, trying to get us to say something and reveal where we were. He… he basically said he killed Eddie.”
Fordham looked at me for confirmation. I nodded mutely, and he stared back down at Lou’s corpse.
“Piece of shit,” he said under his breath. Then he turned back to the SWAT team. “Looks like self-defense to me.”
And just like that, all the DEA agents lowered their guns.
Fiona ran into my arms, and I held her tighter than I’d ever held anybody in my entire life.
178
Fiona
The DEA cleaned house.
They arrested every single member of the Midnight Riders present that night. They waged a gun battle with the Santa Muertes where a third of the gang died – including Rodrigo – before the rest of them gave up. And every single Richards police officer was put in cuffs. At least the cops were smart enough not to open fire on a federal agency.
But the aftermath was hell on earth. Every ambulance in Richards was there at the gasworks, trying to save any Santa Muertes who had been stupid enough to fight back. Dozens of cops were on their knees, hands bound behind their backs. Forensics experts were working the scene, taking photographs of Lou and every other corpse. The DEA was like an invading army, with 80 agents throwing bikers into van after van, even going so far as to commandeer the Richards police cars to transport them.
The ambulance medics had more important things to worry about than Jack’s hands, but I managed to finagle some supplies to clean and bandage him up.
“Hhh,” he hissed as I doused his bleeding knuckles with rubbing alcohol.
“Aaaah, suck it up, you big pansy,” Sid said.
My boss had managed to avoid being shot when the DEA found him, and they’d brought him back over to us on Fordham’s orders.
Jack held up his swollen hands. “Watch your mouth, or I might have to bash them up a little more,” he said good-naturedly.
“Betcha wish you’d let me take him out when I had the chance,” Sid said.
Jack looked down at his fists. “No… no, I’m fine with how it went down.”
“You better pray I am,” Fordham said as he strolled up.
“Are you?” Jack asked.
Fordham shrugged. “We got enough to put everybody away for a couple decades, at least. So… yeah. I’m fine.”
“Are you going to be able to charge the cops?” I asked. “Even though Lou killed Dan Peters?”
Fordham chuckled. “Oh, you should hear ‘em – they’re already squealing. Every other guy wants to cut a deal. ‘I was just following orders!’ Guess they didn’t hear how that worked out at Nuremberg.”
“What about the Riders?” Jack asked, his voice betraying the tiniest bit of hope.
Fordham gestured like What can I do? “If they were out there tonight, they were knowingly participating in a massive drug deal. Nothin’ I can do now. It’s in the Attorney General’s hands whether or not they get prosecuted. Spoiler alert – they’re gonna get prosecuted.”
Jack looked off grimly into the distance. “Great.”
I touched his shoulder. “It’s not your fault.”
“Mm,” he grunted.
“Ya live by the sword, ya get fucked by the sword,” Sid said.
“Which every asshole here tonight absolutely did,” Fordham agreed.
“What about us?” Sid asked. “We gonna get fucked, too?”
“You’re a Marine, aren’t you? No way I fuck over a fellow jarhead. As far as I’m concerned, you guys delivered. We’re good.”
“But everybody’s dead,” I pointed out. “Lou, Dan Peters, Rodrigo – ”
“Them being alive was never a condition of the deal,” Fordham said. “Stick around so we can get your statements, but after that, you’re free to go… but don’t go too far. There’s gonna be a lot of people who want to talk to you, but it should only last a couple of days. Then you’re free, period.”
With that, Fordham walked off into the throng of bustling DEA agents.
179
The DEA finally let us go shortly before dawn. We drove Sid to pick up his Olds, then we went to the nearest motel where we booked separate rooms. My boss was so tired, he didn’t even mention boning – he just shuffled off with a silent wave of his hand.
Once Jack and I were inside our room, he sat me down on the bed.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine.”
He grasped me gently by the shoulders with his bandaged hands and looked me in the eyes. “Seriously – some fucked-up shit went down tonight. Are you okay?”
I stopped to consider. I was tired, I was hungry, my body ached, and my brain had that burnt feeling you get after running on adrenaline too long, and then you crash.
But I was alive, and so was Jack. As long as I had that, dealing with everything else was a cakewalk.
“I’m good.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You watched me beat a man to death with my fists tonight, and you’re ‘good’?”
Ah.
That.
“He deserved it,” I said quietly. “He had it coming.”
“For what he did to Ali?” Jack asked.
“For that… and everything. You know, when you were fighting him and he pulled the knife, I was running to get his gun.”
“I figured.”
“I was prepared to put a bullet in his head if I had to.”
“Even after the other night?” Jack asked.
I knew what he was talking about: me killing Eyeball in the shootout in the hills.
“I felt awful after that… but it’s different. Lou killed Ali – or close enough. And those things he said at the gasworks…” I shuddered, then said darkly, “I wanted him dead.”
“I know,” Jack said. “So did I.”
“I would have done it, especially to save you… but… I’m glad I didn’t have to. I don’t know how I would’ve felt about it afterwards.”
“I’m glad you don’t have to know.”
I raised my hand and touched his cheek softly. “Thank you… for everything.”
He kissed the tips of my fingers. “You’re welcome.”
180
Our lovemaking was just that – making love. Soft and slow, and not just because of Jack’s injuries.
I had to help him out of his clothes because of the bandages on his hands. Of course, I didn’t mind that at all.
With every piece of clothing I removed, I kissed him tenderly – his chest, his ribs, his washboard stomach. My favorite was when I unzipped his pants and pulled his boxers down enough to expose his lovely, thick cock. He was still soft, and it hung there, heavy and swaying with every small movement he made.
I kissed it, and it slowly started to get larger. Thicker. I kissed it again, and it jerked once, then began to rise quickly with every heartbeat. I brushed my lips softly along the underside of the shaft as Jack groaned, then took the first few inches in my mouth, savoring the feeling of him swelling to full hardness.
After I licked and sucked him for a while, he returned the favor by going down on me, softly caressing me with his tongue, sensually kissing my pussy. I got so turned on that I rolled him over on his back and we 69’d. His mouth pleasured me as I took his shaft in my hand and gently stroked it. At the same time I sucked him softly, enjoying the sensation of his swollen head on my tongue, with its hot, feverish heat and its soft skin pulled drum-tight.
I finally couldn’t stand it anymore – without feeling something inside me, it was a little more difficult to come – and I turned my body around and eased his wet tip inside my pussy. Oh God… that set me off. He kissed me as I came, and I cried out in his mouth as his tongue brushed mine.
We were in an almost hypnotic state – that place where it feels like you’re half asleep, drunk on the sensual pleasure of another person’s body and everything that it’s doing to yours. I came over and over. The entire time I held on to him, so grateful for this gorgeous, amazing man – and that I got him back after the dark uncertainty of all we’d been through.
We did almost every conceivable position, although I think my favorite was him entering me from behind, his chest against my back, reaching around me and grabbing my breasts and fondling them as he whispered I love you in my ear. As he rocked inside me, his breath grew shallower and his sounds more urgent. I turned my head and upper body so that I could look him in the eyes. Seconds after I did, he came – and then so did I. His sounds and animalistic lust tipped me over the edge one final time, and I clawed the sheets and his skin as I melted into orgasmic bliss.
Afterwards we lay like that for a very long while, spooning together front to back. He lightly kissed my ear and caressed my skin, and I held on tight to his strong arms wrapped around me – feeling safe, and loved, and utterly at peace.
181
Jack
I woke up from a nightmare.
In it, I was back at the gasworks in the standoff with Lou. He had his gun to Fiona’s head – but instead of pulling his gun away from her head, he shot her. Then, as I screamed, he shot me.
As I lay there dying in the sand, he came over and smiled.
Stupid motherfucker, he said. You never saw it comin’, did ya.
Then he raised his gun, pointed it at my head –
That’s when I woke up, drenched in sweat.
I looked over at Fiona. Early morning sunshine peeked in around the closed curtains and bathed her in rosy light. I thought about just a few hours earlier, and I wanted to reach out to her. To help me forget the dream.
But her beautiful face was so peaceful, I let her sleep instead.
I got a drink of water from the bathroom and checked my phone. It was 8AM –
And there was a message from a Phoenix area code.
Sloane.
With my bandaged hands, I clumsily pulled on my jeans. The shirt was going to be too much of a problem, so I just left it on the floor and stepped outside the room into the open air of the second-floor walkway.
A passing maid gawked at me standing there bare-chested, but I ignored her as I listened to the voicemail.
“Hey, sweet cheeks, just wanted to make sure you made it. I’m gonna assume you did, but… if you don’t mind… I’d like to hear your voice again. Call me.”
I hit ‘Call Back,’ and she answered almost immediately. “Thank GOD.”
“Bad news,” I said.
“What?!” she asked breathlessly.
“Lou shot off my dick.”
“Do NOT even joke about that. What the fuck happened?”
I told her everything. After it was all over, she whistled. “Damn, when you go caveman, Jack, you go fuckin’ caveman.”
“I guess.”
“You got any regrets?”
I guessed she was talking about the MC and the choices I’d made with the DEA. Instead, my mind wandered to Ali, and how I’d underestimated Lou all along.
“A lot of them. But about last night? No.”
“Any of those regrets include me?”
I knew what she was after – some sort of ‘let’s make up and fuck’ banter – but I wasn’t going down that road. Instead I said, “If I’d never met you, Sloane, I’d be dead right now. Thank you – for everything.”
She took the hint. “Thank YOU. I’m gonna be a multi, multi-millionaire ‘cause of you, Jack.”
“Yeah, that reminds me of something – ”
“What, you wanna get a cut of the action?”
“No, it’s all yours – but be careful. The DEA is going to be watching every bit of the Santa Muertes’ old territory for the next crew that moves in.”
“No offense, but we both know I got a better head for this shit than you do. I didn’t get to where I am by bein’ a dumb blonde.”
“I know, I know, just – keep an eye out, alright? And don’t take any stupid chances.”
“Honey, we both know I let other people take the stupi
d chances. I just take the money.”
“Considering last night, I guess you’re right.”
Suddenly she switched gears, and her voice grew softer. “You ever think about me, Jack?”
I was a little uncomfortable with this, but I answered, “Of course.”
“No, I mean… you ever think about US.”
More uncomfortable. “I guess.”
She didn’t sound too happy with that answer. “Mm. Say – where the hell is Little Miss Perky Tits? Is she listenin’ in?”
“No, she’s inside sleeping.” I tried to lighten the mood. “And I’d say you’re Little Miss Perky Tits yourself, after that operation.”
“No, I’m Miss HUGE Perky Tits, and don’t you forget it. What’s gonna happen with you two now?”
“She’ll get up, take a shower, we’ll probably grab some breakfast at IHOP – ”
“You know what I mean. Quit tryin’ to duck the question.”
I smiled as I realized the answer: “I’m going to go up north, and I’m going to ask her to go with me.”
“You’re gonna leave Richards?”
“Yeah.”
“And you’re gonna take her with you?”
“If she’ll go with me, yeah.”
There was a long pause.
“…you ever think about making another go of it? You and me?”
I tried to be diplomatic. “We want different things.”
“I don’t know that they’re ALL that different…”
“You want to rule an empire and make a shit-ton of money, Sloane. I want to live on the right side of the law, and that’s about it.”
“…okay, we want different things.”
That was the understatement of the year.
“But… hypothetically… say I was willing to give all that up… would you… ever think about it?”
I remembered the freedom-loving, badass chick I’d fallen in love with, not the money- and power-hungry woman I’d divorced.
But even if I could have had her back the way she was the first day I’d met her, the idea no longer appealed to me.
Midnight Obsession: A Midnight Riders Motorcycle Club Romance Part 4 Page 40