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

by Lena Bourne

  I walk to him, wrap my arm around his and turn him back to the mirror, both our reflections now staring back at us. I’m already wearing the flowery dress, my hair neatly curled and falling in thick waves over my shoulders. We look like a couple straight out of a Ralph Lauren catalogue. “No, Brett. I love your wild, windswept curly hair, and your baggy jeans and t-shirts, and your boots and your beard. I’d change none of it unless we had to. But we have to. And you look nothing like yourself right now. So how about we get out of here, so you can go see your mom?”

  He nods, running his free hand over his cheek again. “This is gonna take forever to grow back.”

  “But it will grow back,” I say, stand on my toes and kiss his cheek. “Now let’s go.”

  I pay, and then we walk out into the sunshine in our new clothes. But the jitters in the pit of my stomach since I learned I’d be meeting his mom start turning to nausea even before we reach the parking lot of her hospice. I never met a guy’s mom before. I haven’t met many moms overall. Not even my own, come to think of it. Or I did meet her, but she died when I was a baby, so I don’t remember it. And I’m no mother’s idea of a good catch. The hospice is a modern, large white villa in the middle of nowhere and reminds me a lot of the convalescent home I spend almost four months in after I was rescued by Tara and Tommy. The memory doesn’t help my nausea. But this isn’t about me. It’s about Brett, and he’s about to go visit his very ill mother. I mean to stand by him through that the best I can.

  We’ve been sitting in the car for almost fifteen minutes, while he checks for any signs of the cops. It’s getting hot in the car though, a sheen of sweat already covering his face and mine too, messing up the makeup covering my fading bruises. No one’s gone in or out of the building since we got here, and ours is the only car in the parking lot.

  I haven’t mentioned it yet, but even if he gets arrested today, I will do all I can, pull any connection I can, to get him out. But telling him that now would only piss him off again, so I haven’t done it. But he has nothing to worry about. Nothing at all.

  “Let’s go in now, Brett,” I say, giving his hand a squeeze. I suppose part of this wait was him getting ready to see his mom, but I think it’s time. It’s not gonna get any easier.

  “Yeah, let’s,” he says and opens his door. I get out of the car too, wait for him to get around the car so I can wrap my arm around his.

  The AC inside the building is on full blast, and causes goose bumps to erupt on my arms. Or maybe that’s just from the eerie, serene feeling inside this building. I’ve never been very sensitive, but I can feel death’s closeness here.

  “May I help you?” the woman behind a small reception desk asks in a soft, singsong voice. I gasp in surprise, because she seems to have just appeared out of nowhere.

  I clear my throat and walk closer. We’ve agreed I’ll do most of the talking. That way Brett will be even less recognizable.

  “Yes, my name is Aurora Williams,” I say. “My aunt Maggie Williams is staying here. I just found out about it a couple of days ago, and I came as soon as I could. Can my husband and I go up to see her?”

  “Sure, of course you can,” the lady says, and comes out from behind her desk, pointing towards the wide staircase leading up to the top floors of the building, “Follow me. Maggie will be so happy to see more family members. Only her son comes to see her, but no more than once a month. He calls everyday to check on her though.”

  Brett never mentioned having a brother, and I look at him questioningly. He looks very confused at this news and kind of apprehensive. But there’s no turning back now. We’re almost on the landing, and once we reach it, the nurse is entering the second room on the right side of a wide, white carpet lined corridor. There is a huge circular window at the very end of it, bathing the space in a soft, hazy light.

  The nurse comes out again just as we reach the door.

  “Maggie’s awake,” she says softly. “You can go in now. But please keep your voices down, others are sleeping.”

  We wait for her to retreat back down the corridor, and descend the stairs. Brett’s showing no signs wanting to enter the room. I take his hand, lace my fingers with his.

  “I know this is hard, Brett,” I whisper. “But it’s your mom.”

  He nods. “Yeah, but the thing is, I don’t have a brother.”

  That is weird, but we’ve come this far, and I’m certain he doesn’t want to turn back now.

  “I’m sure the nurse just made a mistake,” I say. “Go in now. I’ll wait in the hall, then you can call me in, if you want.”

  He lets go of my hand, cups my face in his hands and gives me a kiss on the forehead. “Thanks, Samantha. For everything. And yes, I will introduce you to my mom.”

  He smiles at me, then he opens the door and goes in, and I’m alone in the corridor, surrounded by death. I wander over to the circular window at the end of the hallway, which looks out onto the parking lot.

  A black sports car is now parked near my car, and a tall, muscular man with closed cropped blond hair, is making his way towards the hospice. He looks up and sees me, a faint smile opening on his face. Back in my old life, before I met Brett, he would be exactly the type that I’d choose for a one nigh stand. He reminds me of Randy too, but it’s not him, and apart from realizing all that, his good looks do absolutely nothing for me.

  He enters the building, and a few minutes later I hear him ascending the stairs.

  I turn from the window, but only because I should probably be standing next to the door in case Brett calls me. I find myself locking eyes with the blond blue-eyed man from the parking lot, and yes he is gorgeous, but no part of me wants him. In fact, something in his eyes scares me. Maybe it’s the way they seem to be laughing at me, even though his face is completely serious.

  “Hello,” he says, checking me out head to toe, and I reply, feeling even more queasy than before. Then he disappears up another flight of stairs.

  “Samantha,” Brett calls my name softly through the half open door of his mom’s room. “Want to come in now?”

  And the prospect of meeting Brett’s mother drives all else, even that strange guy, straight out of my mind.

  BRETT

  My mom was always a tiny woman, but she looks like a twelve-year-old girl now. Her legs, outlined by the thin sheet she’s covered with, are nothing more than skin and bone. I doubt she can even stand on her own anymore. And she seems so old, her skin paper-thin. I’m not even sure how it’s not ripping over her cheekbones and nose. But her eyes are still alive. And she’s angry, if the expression in them is anything to go by. Clearly she’s not quite over our last argument yet.

  “Why don’t you come closer, Brett?” she asks, extending her hand. There’s no anger in her voice, there’s nothing much there at all.

  “Hi, Mom,” I say, walking closer to the bed and taking her hand. It is in fact papery. And burning hot to the touch. “Why didn’t you call me when you got sick?”

  She makes a noise somewhere between a snort and a grunt. But her eyes aren’t as sharp anymore.

  “I didn’t want you to worry, and there was nothing you could’ve done,” she says, her voice hoarse and cracking. “You had enough to worry about, I thought.” The last was supposed to sting, I’m sure, and it does, but not because of her tone. That’s still colorless and monotone.

  “I’m sorry, Ma,” I say, sitting down on the edge of her bed. Her hands used to be so strong. And deft. Now I can feel every bone. “How long have you known?”

  “About five months,” she says, her voice quivering. “It went fast.”

  “And there’s no…no chance you’ll…?”

  “Oh, just ask it, Brett, what did I teach you about being a man?” she says harshly. But her eyes are still very soft, even a little teary. “No, son, there’s no chance of me getting better. I don’t have long left. A couple of weeks, if I’m lucky. Though with this pain, I don’t know if luck’s a good word to describe it.”

&n
bsp; “You should’ve called me. I would’ve come take care of you. You shouldn’t be here with strangers.” I’m talking like I can change any of that.

  “It is what it is. You being here would have made no difference. And they would arrest you, if you’d come five months ago. I didn’t want to cause that,” she says, squeezing my hand, or trying to since she has no real strength left.

  She’s completely right. My mom always did call it how she saw it. And I have nothing to argue against that with.

  “You look different. Why this new style?” she asks.

  I look down at my fancy pants and shirt. “This is just a disguise. So they don’t arrest me right away…are they still looking for me here?”

  I don’t even know why I asked, the feeling accentuated by the way her eyes narrow. “That friend of yours told me they were no longer looking for you. That it was all a misunderstanding, and that you did nothing wrong. Is that not true?”

  What the hell is she talking about? Maybe she’s just making things up to make herself feel better. I shouldn’t ruin that. I should lie, and tell her it is in fact true.

  “What friend?” I ask instead.

  “That pretty one, Ian, he comes to visit me from time to time,” she says.

  Why would Ian be visiting my mom? Of all my friends, he’s the least likely to do that. And why is he telling her lies about me, for that matter?

  This makes no sense, but there’s no reason to spoil it for her. She only has a couple of weeks left, and she might as well spend them believing I’m innocent.

  “Did the cops give you a hard time over where I was?”

  “For awhile,” she says. “There was even a car parked outside this place everyday when I first came here. But they stopped that weeks ago. Right around the time Ian came to tell me you were innocent. ”

  Odd. Does Ian know something? Why hasn’t he told me? I’ll get a hold of him as soon as I leave here today. Find out what’s what. But first, there’s one more thing…

  “I brought someone I want you to meet, Ma,” I say, releasing her hand.

  “A girl?” she asks wryly. “This isn’t another lanky stripper, is it?”

  I introduced too many of my exes to my mom, I realize that now, because Samantha is the first girl that I actually want my mom to meet.

  “No, Ma, she’s not. You’ll like Samantha. She’s classy.”

  I go to the door and open it, call Sam to come inside. Her eyes go wide and her mouth goes small, and she trips on the carpet twice before making it to the door. She’s so fucking cute when she’s nervous.

  “Well, aren’t you a gorgeous young thing,” my mom says, her voice cracking again. “You must be the reason my son’s all dolled up.”

  Samantha blushes a bright, candy apple red, which I’ve never seen her do. Not even when she was…but no, this is no time to think about sex. My dick has other ideas though, and I think that pretty, good girl dress she’s wearing has a lot to do with it. She looks like she just came from church, all prim and proper. I see some merit to some guys’ good girl obsession now, but that’s only because I know the wild, insatiable girl hiding beneath that perfect exterior.

  “Yes, I mean no. It’s just temporary. I mean, I don’t want him to change for me… it’s just that we had to…” Sam’s stammering. I should save her, but it’s so endearing, so at odds with that sexy woman who knows exactly what she wants.

  “I know, Brett already told me,” Mom interrupts and smiles at her, kinda like the way she used to smile at me when I was a kid. “I’m Maggie. What’s your name?”

  “This is Samantha, Ma,” I say, and Sam shakes her hand.

  And then we chat for awhile. And it’d be a whole lot more pleasant if we weren’t in a hospice room and my mom wasn’t dying, but at least she got to meet Sam, and I can’t be completely unhappy about that.

  Mom starts dozing off in the middle of her sentences before long though, and eventually we decide to just let her sleep. If Ian wasn’t just lying to her, we can have more of these visits. But we’ll have those even if what he told her isn’t true. I’m not letting my mom die alone.

  “So, that was your mom,” Sam says once we’re out in the hallway. “She’s a nice lady.”

  “Yeah, when she wants to be. Were you nervous meeting her? You looked nervous.”

  “I never met a guy’s mom before, so yes, I was nervous,” she answers, then gasps and turns to me, grasping my hand in both of hers. “That must’ve been so horrible for you, seeing her like that.”

  I can’t exactly deny it, but I can’t quite accept it yet either. The shock of my mom dying will catch up to me, but right now, I’m just happy to have seen her again.

  “Yeah, it was,” I say, since she’s waiting for an answer. Her eyes leave mine, focusing on something just behind me, opening even wider.

  Then something hard and cool presses into my side.

  “Of course it was hard for him. How can seeing your mom dying not be terrible? Did you know she’s his only living relative?” a man says quietly behind me. I know that voice. “He’s just playing tough for your benefit right now. Let’s walk.”

  “What the fuck are you doing, Ian?” I ask, turning to face him.

  “Running a little errand for Shade, among other things,” he says, looking Sam up and down in a lewd way that makes me want to strangle him right here.

  “You remember Shade, don’t you?” Ian asks her.

  Sam drew a ragged breath at the mention of Shade, and she’s visibly shaking now.

  “Don’t do anything stupid,” Ian warns her. “Or your boyfriend here will get hurt.”

  Her eyes flash to the gun he’s pressing into my side, but I don’t think she can possibly believe he’ll shoot me right here in this hospice. Yet she nods, clutching my hand even tighter.

  “Let’s just do as he says,” I tell her in an effort to calm her down. Ian won’t shoot me. Not here, not anywhere. And there’s very little chance he knew Sam would be here with me. Only Tommy knows we’re together. And I doubt he told him.

  “Had a nice visit?” the nurse at the reception asks Ian. “And I see you ran into your cousin. How nice.”

  Ian flashes her a wide smile and nods, wrapping his arm around my shoulders, and pressing the gun even harder into my side. “Been awhile since I’ve seen these guys. We’ve got all sorts of catching up to do.”

  The nurse’s face is positively beaming as he tells her this. He always had that effect on women.

  The sun outside is blinding. The parking lot is still empty, save for Sam’s car and the black one that must be Ian’s.

  “What do you want, Ian?” I ask once we outside, stepping away from him and pulling Sam behind me to shield her from him and whatever crazy shit he’s planning next. He doesn’t lower his gun though, is just holding it out for anyone to see now. But I’m not letting him take Sam to Shade. He’ll have to go over my dead body to do that. But it won’t get that far.

  He chuckles, looking from me to Sam and back. “You got it bad for this one, don’t you, Brett? But isn’t she a little used even for you? I have to admit she cleans up good though.”

  My arm jerks as I get ready to punch him for what he just said, but he jams the gun into my stomach. Sam screams and that’s what stops me.

  “There’s no way Shade’ll ever get his hands on her again,” I hiss at Ian. “I will not let that happen.”

  His eyes flash the way they always do right before he does something crazy. Like beat someone into a coma for treading on his foot by accident. Or for cutting him off at an intersection. Or for cutting in line at the movies for that matter. Ian is insane. He was born that way. He was insane when we were in kindergarten together, and it only grew worse over the years. I’d like to think he wouldn’t shoot me, but maybe I shouldn’t be so sure of it.

  “What are you gonna do to stop me?” he asks wryly.

  I shouldn’t even think about this. I should just grab that gun and hit him over the head with it. But
for some reason I’m hesitating. Maybe it’s the heat. Or the fact that my mom is dying upstairs. Or that Sam will have no one to protect her if I fail, and he guns me down in this parking lot.

  He laughs, then stuffs the gun behind the waistband of his jeans. “As much as I’d love to see you stand up for your lady, that’s not what I’m here for. She can go. But you’re coming with me.”

  “No!” Sam says, stepping out from behind my back and glaring at Ian.

  “Yes!” he says, mockingly matching her tone. “You just get in your fancy car, drive home to your bodyguard boyfriend, and consider yourself lucky. Because I’d get what I want out of him much faster, if I was taking you too. But I’m turning a new leaf in my life, so go while you still have the chance. And Shade would appreciate it, if you shut the fuck up and quit talking to the cops about what you two had.”

  “The bodyguard is not my boyfriend,” she says, her eyes locked on mine, pleading me to believe her.

  Her breasts are heaving, she’s breathing so hard. And I can see it in her eyes that she wants to fight more. But she’s gonna take this offer.

  “It’s OK, Sam. Just go,” I tell her. “Go and call your bodyguards to come and get you. And I’ll find you as soon as I deal with this.”

  “How will you find me?” she asks, blinking at me like she’s about to start crying.

  “I’ll…” but I don’t know how to finish the sentence. I have her phone number in my wallet, but she doesn’t have her phone anymore, she lost it in Mexico, and now she thinks I’m lying, that I’ll never come for her, that I want to just get rid of her.

  I turn and pull her close. She melts into me, burying her face in my chest. “I’ll find out where you are from Tommy,” I whisper into her ear. “Don’t worry. I won’t just disappear.”

  “You might, if you mention that rat’s name in my presence again,” Ian snaps. “Now hurry this shit along.”