Outlaw's Salvation (A Viper’s Bite MC Novel Book 2): A Bad Boy MC Romance (Viper's Bite MC)

by Lena Bourne

  I roll down the windows of my car as soon as I’m driving away, because I need air, not that it helps much since I can hardly get a full breath in through my tear-constricted throat. I made a wrong turn somewhere, have no idea where I’m going now, but that doesn’t matter. I never really knew where I was going. Until I met Brett. Then it became very clear, very suddenly. But that’s over now, so where ever I end up won’t be where I should be. I should be with him.

  After awhile, I hear the familiar roar of his bike behind me. I used to think all bikes sounded the same, but I’d know this sound anywhere. It’s like a part of me, but keeping rhythm to a very sad song right now. My foot eases off the gas automatically, and I start to slow down, let the sound of his bike wash all over me, suffuse my entire body, until my heart starts beating in time with the roar of the engine. Just like it would if I sat behind him right now, my arms around his waist, his body sheltering me from the wind as we rode.

  But this is goodbye.

  This is the end.

  Yet all that’s just words. They mean nothing against these feelings washing over me, the ones he stirred in me, the ones he made possible. I know none of that was a lie. He loves me and I love him. I should’ve said it back. But I couldn’t. Not when he was sending me away.

  But those are just words too. And these feelings, this love, that’s forever. I’m not leaving Mexico without him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  BRETT

  She just flew out of my fucking apartment. Not that I should be surprised, the idiot I am couldn’t find the right words to make her stay, make her believe me. Even kissing her didn’t work. All I kept thinking was that I might never see her again, and the thought completely paralyzed my brain and my voice. Not that I’m very adept at using either. Especially when it comes to women.

  I only stayed long enough to grab as many guns as I could find before going after her. I stuffed them all in the saddlebags of my bike, right over my cut that I couldn’t throw away. It means too much. I don’t believe Tommy can bring the club back to life, but I know he’s crazy enough to try. And he might just be crazy enough to pull it off.

  But that’s a maybe from the future.

  She slowed down once she realized I was following her. For a moment I hoped she’d stop. I should make her stop. She needs to go back home. But I can’t have her yelling at me anymore right now. It feels like something’s ripping in my chest when she does that.

  I should stop being such a pussy about that though. What I’m doing is for her own good. And I need to deal with this cartel problem now. The Henchman doesn’t make empty threats. If I learned anything about him in the last year it was that.

  Can Sam be right? Is The Henchman really the cartel boss? Even if he isn’t, Shade had no business giving him gifts. Sounds like Tommy was right about him working with the Mexicans. This would be the proof he needs. But this can’t wait. I’ll kill The Henchman for what he did to Sam. I’ll kill him tonight. Just as soon as she’s safely across the border.

  She turns into town, is waiting for me in front of the hotel she stayed at before, her hair billowing this way and that in the autumn wind that’s been blowing all day.

  “What are you doing, Samantha?” I ask as I roll up to her. She’s got the most defiant look on her face I’ve ever seen. I turn off the engine and step off the bike. “Let’s just get you home where it’s safe.”

  “I’m not going anywhere without you,” she says, pouting up at me. It’s enough to make me want to kiss her and never stop. Or maybe that’s because of what she just said.

  So I do, because there’s no time like the present, and the touch of her lips is the only thing that drives my fear of never seeing her again out of my mind. She returns the kiss this time, leans into me, holding on tight.

  But I have to let her go so I can have her.

  “Let’s go now,” I say. “You can call your bodyguards on the way.”

  The shock on her face burns.

  She mouths, “No”, grabs her suitcase, and strides into the hotel.

  The receptionist tries to stop her, but she just yells that she’s going to see an amiga upstairs, and he doesn’t pursue her.

  “Sam!” I call after her. “Let’s talk about this!”

  But she just runs up the stairs without even looking back.

  I should go after her and drag her back down, pack her in the car and fucking drive her to the border myself. But men have forced her to do so many things she didn’t want to for so long, and I won’t be that guy. I’ll never be that guy to her.

  So I go sit at the bar and settle down to wait. She’ll be back. I know she will. Fiery women like her just need some time to cool off. Once she does, she’ll see reason.

  SAMANTHA

  My friend Abby’s in her room, thank God. I don’t know what I’d do if she wasn’t. Probably go back downstairs and rent a room for myself. But then I’d have to see Brett again, since I’m sure he’s still waiting downstairs. That kiss on the sidewalk….if I had any doubts left that he truly loves me, that kiss erased them all.

  Abby didn’t ask a lot of questions over me just barging into her room. I already told her a couple of days ago that I was staying with a guy, so me coming in here breathless and on the verge of tears can only mean one thing. A bad breakup. The only two men in my life who ever made me cry were my father and Shade. And that was a different kind of crying to the one I want to do today.

  So I push it all out of my mind, spent the afternoon catching up with Abby, getting ready for a girls night out. The first one since I arrived, even though that was the whole purpose of me coming here.

  Brett’s downstairs waiting for me. I know because his bike is still parked behind my car in the street. And even if I didn’t see that, I’d still know. Because I can feel him thinking about me. It’s an eerie feeling, yet so welcome and warming, I have to keep stopping myself from just having an endless conversation with him in my mind.

  No, I’m not coming down yet.

  No, I’m not leaving without you.

  I love you too. But you’re pissing me off right now.

  I try to shut it down completely more than once, but I feel him with me in the back of my mind anyway. He wants me to come downstairs and go back home. But I ignore that. Let him stew a little. Then he’ll see it my way. I loathe the fact that I’m depending on my dad to keep me safe, but Brett’ll just have to get used to it too.

  The music in the night club downstairs stars blaring as soon as the light outside starts to fade. I guess the parties start sooner now that the summer is almost over, or maybe it’s like that all the time. We already finished the bottle of tequila Abby had in her room, so I suggest cocktails downstairs.

  Part of me wants more alcohol, sure, but the bigger part just wants to see Brett again. It’s only been a couple of hours since our argument, but it feels like I haven’t seen him in months, and I really miss him. With a physical ache in my chest. So, yeah, there’s no way I’m going anywhere without him. Ever. I don’t even care if a guy cuts me to pieces. It can’t be worse than this pain. I’m buzzed from the tequila so the thought doesn’t have the proper edge. But it’s scary how certain I am of it.

  The club downstairs is as empty as I expected it to be. Or maybe it just seems that way because Brett is sitting at the end of the bar—in the same stool where I sat when he picked me up what feels like years ago—and just his presence makes everything else fade into the background.

  Our eyes lock, metal to magnet—it will never be any different for us—but I still walk right past him as I follow Abby into the club. His upset-slash-sad expression hurts me too. But he has the power to make it go away. It’s out of my hands. He just has to say he’s coming with me, and we can be gone within the hour.

  Abby sees some guys she knows on the other side of the club, wants to go over, get them to buy us drinks. And maybe I should let some other guy buy me a drink, teach Brett a lesson about letting me go this easily. But that would be
too cruel, and besides I absolutely do not want any guy other than Brett even looking at me, let alone touching me. So I tell her no and go to the bar alone.

  “What are you doing, Sam?” Brett asks, coming closer as I lean over the bar trying to get the bartender’s attention.

  “Getting a drink, what’s it look like?” I say as airily as I can. “Unless you want to get me one.”

  He waves to the bartender. “What do you want?”

  “Sex on the beach,” I say and wink at him. Me ordering that is such a cliché, but I’m a little drunk, and sex on the beach with him is what I really want. That’s no lie.

  He frowns at me, shakes his head and mutters, “No way I’m fucking asking for that,” then orders me a tequila sunrise when the bartender comes over.

  I have all sorts of rebuttals floating around in my brain, but I’m too lost in his eyes to actually utter any of them. They’re showing me a crackling fire in the middle of a vast empty landscape surrounded by rolling hills, the shrubs and dried tree branches singing in the breeze. The night sky is full of shooting stars as we hold each other by that fire, granting wish after wish.

  “Now you drink that, and then we’re leaving,” he says handing me my drink, and smashing up that sweet fantasy, but not really. It’s all still there. I just have to look into his eyes.

  “Are you coming too?” I ask, making my lips extra pouty as I take a sip of my drink through the straw. I don’t why I’m falling back on these seduction tactics right now, but if it works, it works.

  “It’s like I told you,” he says, frowning again. “I’ll follow you as soon as I can.”

  “Then no deal. We both stay or we both go,” I murmur, picking up my glass and walking over to Abby, who’s just swaying to the music next to the group of guys, and not talking to any of them. I still stay way away from them. My fear that if I talk to another guy Brett will just get up and leave, thinking, this slut’s not worth it, is very real, so I have to be very careful tonight.

  “Who was that?” Abby asks, eyeing Brett with a soft smile on her lips.

  The want in her eyes makes me jealous. A whole new emotion, one of many Brett’s made me feel. So I don’t even feel guilty saying, “Just some guy.” Because it’s not true. It will never be true.

  Brett doesn’t even notice her. He’s only looking at me.

  “Say, wanna get some dinner somewhere?” Abby asks. “The food here sucks.”

  “Nah, you go,” I tell her.

  “OK, but can I borrow your car?” she asks sheepishly. “I kinda totaled mine a few nights ago.”

  “Sure,” I say, fishing in my bag for my keys. “Just bring it back in one piece, please.”

  She assures me she will, but I don’t really care if she does or not. We have Brett’s bike. I never liked anything my dad got me anyway and the car is no exception.

  The club is filling up, the music getting louder. I wander over to the dance floor, start swaying to the music, then dancing. Brett’s eyes are locked on me, his gaze holding me in a vice like grip, which is full of lewd desire, primal passion, yet love and care too. I feel that look in my belly, it’s causing soft cramps that make me want to cry and laugh at the same time. I’ve never felt this alive, this wanted, this cared for, in my entire life.

  I get bolder, start dancing like I used to, slowly and seductively. And it still works, guys keep coming up to me, try to dance with me. But Brett’s the only one I see, and they all sense it, don’t need anyone to tell them to get lost.

  Some take longer to get it, but eventually they all fade into the blur at the edges of my sight, until it feels like it’s just Brett and me and that I’m dancing just for him. And I could do this for hours, for days, just dance in the embrace of his eyes. It’d be even better if he came over and joined me. But he doesn’t and his eyes on me are enough.

  BRETT

  The club is crowded, but it seems like she’s dancing just for me. Everything fades as I watch her sway under the slowly changing lights. Every last problem, regret, and doubt. Nothing but being with her, there for her, matters. I will never change my mind about that. I realized it before, many times, but now I know. She didn’t run away because I’m a murderer, or because I’m working for the man that tortured her, or because I can’t find the right words to tell her how much she means to me. She ran because she needs me to follow her. Because she needs me, and she wants me.

  So it’s settled. We can ride east, cross the US border illegally, I know a few spots where that’s possible. Then we just keep going, all the way up to Canada, away from the cartel and everything else hounding us. It’s a plan, now I just have to not fuck it up. Should be easy, since I can’t even take my eyes off her.

  And still I see it too late.

  Guys have been flocking to her all evening, but she’s sent them all away by not showing them any interest. If she had, they’d be bleeding, and we’d be doing it upstairs in her hotel room. Because she’s mine. But that’s not the way this is going, she’s dancing just for me. And that’s why I wasn’t really paying attention to these latest two hopefuls, who are older and taller than most, and wearing black suits.

  She twirls her back on them as they approach, and I’m sure they’re about to take the hint and move on. But they grab her, each gripping one of her arms. I’m off my stool in a flash. They lift her clear off the ground and carry her out through the crowd. She’s kicking and screaming, looking back over her shoulder, her eyes desperately seeking mine. I hope she knows I’ll save her once our eyes finally lock. Because there will be no other outcome.

  But someone grabs me when I try to run after her, pulls me back and locks my arms behind my back. Another cholo is laughing softly beside me, something cold and hard pressed into my side.

  “You should have obeyed our orders, El Gusano,” he whispers in my ear. “She is ours now, that pretty girl. Too bad for her, and as for you, you will learn.” It’s a gun he has on me, not a knife; I can clearly feel the outline of the barrel as he presses it harder into my flesh. A gun is better than a knife. But I would gladly take either or both just to catch Sam, save her before they take her somewhere I can’t follow.

  They’ve reached the hotel lobby, and she’s still screaming and kicking, until one of the cholos holding her punches her in the temple and she goes limp in their arms.

  I don’t think, I just react. Turn, slam my body and the guy holding my arms back into the bar. He grunts, loosens his grip. My sudden movement disorients the one with the gun, and I grab his wrist, twist it away from me. A well-placed jab breaks his elbow, his scream louder than the music. His gun is in my hand now, and I shoot him in the leg, and the other one too. It all takes just a couple of seconds. It would take more than two cholos to stop me on a bad day. Right now, twenty men couldn’t keep me from going after Sam and saving her.

  The music has stopped and it sounds like everyone’s screaming, the girls’ piercing shrieks echoing behind me as I run to the sidewalk, reach it just in time to see the two guys fling Sam into the back seat of a black town car. She’s regained her strength, is fighting them fiercely again, yelling and screeching. Her eyes lock on mine just as they succeed in getting her into the car, and the fear, the sheer stark panic in them gives me a surge of adrenaline like I’ve never felt before. A hundred men can’t stop me right now.

  The car peals off and I run to my bike, jump on and go after them, the gun I took off the cholo still in my hand. They have a head start, but the street’s so congested with people and cars, and fucking donkey pulled carts, I have no trouble catching up on my bike. I’m almost alongside the car when the boulevard ends and they reach the open road. Two more seconds and I’d have been able to shoot the driver, but now they’re speeding away from me into the darkness. If I can’t keep up, Sam’s lost forever. That will not happen.

  My best chance is to take out one of their tires. I take aim, fire off a shot, but it whizzes into the night.

  I aim more carefully with the next. It causes
sparks as it ricochets off the metal bumper. I’m pushing my hog as fast as it’ll go, but the car’s faster. In a minute, they’ll be out of range. In five, I’ll lose sight of the headlights.

  I fire again. And miss.

  Breaks screech as they make a sharp left onto the road that leads up to the hills, and then the highway. Fucking idiots, they’d have lost me on this road, but this is the break I needed.

  I almost ground my bike as I make the turn too, but I’m much closer to them when I regain full control of it. A muzzle flash lights near the right back window. A split second later searing pain grazes my left arm. But it fades before I even fully feel it. All my attention is focused on closing the distance to the car.

  They fire off more shots, but none even come close to hitting me. I’m right behind it as we crest the hill, the empty plateau bathed in moonlight. The highway lights are flickering in the distance, red and white. I take careful aim again, because this could be one of my last chances.

  The shot takes out the right back tire, causing the car to veer left, hit the gravel, the back bumper bouncing off the boulders lining the road, causing it to spin, then roll in a symphony of twisting metal and idling engine roar. With a final thud it comes to a stop on its roof, the sudden silence deafening.

  But then it’s pierced by Sam’s blood stopping scream, and my heart starts beating again. I release the breath I’ve been holding and get off my bike, crouching behind it for cover, as I pull my Colt 45 revolver from the saddlebag. I’ve yet to miss my target with this gun. It’s the model I learned to shoot with when I was a kid, and it’s still my favorite gun.

  “Send her to me and no one needs to die,” I shout. This is the one and only warning they’re getting.