Worth the Pain (Royal Bastards MC Book 2)

by J. L. Leslie

  Bishop positions himself behind the driver’s side door and starts spraying bullets. I mimic his stance, firing at the Souls and doing everything I can not to hit Hunter. He’s fighting with Dean, the two of them scuffling on the ground and throwing punches. One minute, I can see them, and the next, I can’t. Everything is such chaos. I am out of bullets and Bishop has already reloaded once. We won’t make it out of this. So much for my brilliant fucking plan.

  I load another clip and keep shooting, my adrenaline keeping me going when I know it’s futile. We’re outnumbered. Outmatched. And I can’t see Hunter. I have no idea what’s happened to him. He could be hit, lying there dying for all I know.

  I’m ready to give up, admit defeat, when I hear the rumble of engines roaring toward us. Mason leads the Bastards and the Eagles. They come in hot, guns fucking blazing. I slump against the door, relief flooding through me.

  I don’t keep shooting. There’s no point. The guys have this handled. The Souls are suffering their wrath. I stay in the safety of the truck. When I see Hunter, I cry out for him. He doesn’t hear me, already engaging in the fight.

  He’s covered in blood, his shirt torn. He looks like a feral beast. And I love him. Love every part of him. The man, the father, the Bastard.

  The men are bare-knuckle fighting, the bullets exhausted. It’s one of those things you don’t want to watch but can’t tear your eyes away from. There’s so much blood. So much destruction.

  When the fight dies down, and the Bastards have won, I make my way from the truck, so I can go to Hunter. He holds his side, blood oozing from what looks to be a knife wound, but he’s on his feet.

  I damn near jump into his arms, not caring about the blood. He wraps one arm around me and hugs me to him.

  “You came for me,” he says, his voice in awe.

  “Don’t ever try to leave me again. Promise me that.”

  He chuckles. “I promise.”

  I kiss him, tasting the copper of blood and saltiness of sweat. Mason is already giving orders to tally up the men we lost and get the mess cleaned up.

  “Where’s their fucking president?” he asks, looking around for Dean.

  “I took him to the basement. Want him alive so he can tell us where the girls are,” Hunter explains, then turns to Owen. “So you can find your niece.”

  “Thank you for that.”

  “I need to go with them, finish the job,” Hunter says, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Go wait in the truck. I’ll be back soon.”

  He gives me one more kiss, then follows behind Mason, Owen, and Jake as they head toward the basement. I survey the dead. Two Eagles and the rest are Souls. We didn’t lose any of our men. Thank God for that.

  I walk over to Paul, to the man I was going to marry. He once called Hunter a piece of shit. Called the Bastards terrible people. He was the one who was a monster. And I somehow missed that.

  I shake my head and turn to walk off. The click of a gun cocking stops me in my tracks, but it’s too late. The breath whooshes out of me as pain sears through my back. I fall to my knees, then slump forward as darkness consumes me.

  HUNTER

  I stand back and watch as Mason slams his fist into Dean’s stomach again. So far, Dean hasn’t talked. Won’t tell us where the girls are or who the buyer is. He’s a tough son of a bitch to break. But he will break. They always do.

  “Give me five minutes alone with Paul’s woman, and I’ll tell you anything you want to know,” he says, grinning and spitting blood.

  I lunge for him, but Jake stops me. He’s only baiting me. Fucker.

  “Hunt! Hunt!” Dash yells my name as he runs down the stairs. “You have to get out here, man! It’s Allie! She’s been shot!”

  I don’t wait on Mason to give me the go ahead to leave before I bolt up the stairs and run outside. Bishop is carrying her to the truck, her body lifeless.

  “What the hell happened?” I ask as I climb into the cab of the truck. He holds her while I crank it and speed off.

  “Paul wasn’t dead,” he answers. “He is now. I made sure of it.”

  “Where is she hit?”

  “Her back. I’ve already called Doc. He and Skylar will be ready when we get there.”

  Allie is hit. Fuck. I reach over and take her hand, willing her to squeeze mine, give me any indication she’s going to be okay. She doesn’t. Her breaths are shallow, barely noticeable.

  I drive like a fucking bat out of hell, weaving through traffic and running red lights. When we get to the clinic, I carry her out, needing to have her in my arms. Bishop was right, Doc and Skylar are waiting for us. I place her on the exam table, and Skylar pushes me back, turning her over and cutting her shirt away.

  “It went clean through,” Doc says. “That’s a good thing.”

  Skylar looks over at me. “Give us some room, okay? I promise I’ll keep you updated.”

  I nod and lean down to Allie, knowing I have to tell her this now. Can’t keep it inside any longer.

  “I love you,” I whisper. “Please don’t go. I need you.”

  I step back, letting Doc and Skylar do their jobs, praying they save her. I should’ve told her a long time ago how I felt about her. Should’ve told her I love her. I need her.

  “She’s tough, man,” Bishop says. “She’s going to pull through this.”

  I nod and step outside the clinic, lighting up a cigarette. My hands fucking tremble as I bring it to my lips. I’m filthy as all fuck, covered in dirt and dried blood. The wound on my side has stopped bleeding, and my shirt is stuck to it.

  I know Mason and Owen will get the answers from Dean. Know they’ll end this once and for all. The Souls are destroyed. Every last one of them gone.

  But none of it matters. Not if I lose Allie.

  ALLIE

  I stare down at Paul, at his lifeless body. He had me completely fooled. If he wouldn’t have gone missing, if I hadn’t seen Hunter again, I probably would’ve married Paul. Would’ve let him raise Wes. How could I not see the real him?

  I tell myself he was a great liar, manipulator. I was vulnerable when I met him, desperate for attention, desperate to know I wasn’t a burden. He made me feel like I wasn’t. At least he gave me that.

  I turn and walk away, hearing the gunshot only seconds later. He was supposed to be dead. Not me. I’m not ready. I fight against the black that consumes me, cry out for Hunter and Wes. At least I think I do. No sound comes out. It’s too late.

  I love you. Please don’t go. I need you.

  I need him too. So much. I tell myself to open my eyes. To breathe. To wake up. I want to so badly. More than anything.

  The soft beeping noise seems so far away. It gets slower. Slower. I can’t open my eyes. Can’t pull through this. Despite how much I want to, I’m tired of fighting. I hope Hunter will understand. Hope he’ll take care of Wes. He’s going to make a great father. Protective. Loyal. I want that for Wes.

  I love you. Please don’t go. I need you.

  I love you. Please don’t go. I need you.

  The light is blinding, my eyes finally fluttering open. My mouth is dry. It’s hard to swallow, to talk.

  “Hunter?” I manage.

  I hear a commotion then feel my hand being lifted, soft lips pressing against my skin. He’s here. I’m alive.

  “You came back to me.”

  I crack a smile. “Always.”

  He lets go of my hand long enough to pull his chair closer, then he takes it again, holding it to his chest. His heart is pounding, and I love knowing I have that effect on him.

  “I thought I lost you again.”

  “Again?” I ask. “You always had me, Hunter. Even when I didn’t want you to.”

  “I want you wearing my patch. My fucking ring. Whatever you’ll have, I want to give it to you.”

  “I only need you.”

  My eyes get heavy. I’ll be falling back asleep soon. Hunter leans over and softly kisses my lips.

  “I love you too.”<
br />
  “You heard that?”

  “Been waiting forever to hear you say those words.”

  He kisses me again and smiles against my lips. “I love you, Allie King.”

  I close my eyes, letting myself fall. Hunter loves me. That’s worth living for.

  HUNTER

  I reluctantly leave Allie’s side, but only after Doc tells me she needs to rest. That she’s going to be perfectly fine. I give her one last kiss on her forehead and walk outside, seeing the guys are back. A big bonfire is made, and music blares. They’re celebrating. Dean must’ve talked.

  “How’s Allie doing?” Mason asks.

  “Doc says she’s going to be fine.”

  “That’s good to hear,” he replies. “We got the intel from Dean. The Eagles are going to get Owen’s niece and any other girls they can find. I sent Bishop and Munsey with them. Some of the women were already sold to a governor in California. I’ve reached out to the Ravens. They’re making contact with another MC in the area. Seems Governor Chaise was already on their shit list.”

  “Was he the one on the news? The one the FBI busted?”

  “The one and only. Dax said he could get in touch with the Sinners and see about the girls the governor had. I trust he’ll get the job done and take care of those women.”

  “Glad to know we were finally able to find them.”

  “Listen, Hunt, I won’t lie and say I’m not pissed that you disobeyed direct orders for lock down,” Mason says, putting his hand on my shoulder, “But I should’ve had the club back you before. Your instincts haven’t been wrong.”

  “Water under the bridge, my brother.”

  And it is. I don’t have to hold a grudge or be pissed they didn’t have my back on that. They didn’t trust me. It’s settled now. Owen’s niece is going to be returned and no more women will be taken.

  “It won’t happen again.”

  I give him a slight nod and tell him I’m heading inside to shower and be with my son. They can celebrate without me.

  I step inside the clubhouse and find Peppermint sitting with Wes. She has him cradled in her arms, a bottle in his mouth. Dash is sitting in the recliner, a game controller in his hand as he slays zombies on the television. I’m surprised he’s not outside with the guys.

  “I’ll be back in ten,” I let Peppermint know.

  “No rush. How’s Allie?”

  “She’s good. Resting.”

  I make quick work in the shower, cleaning my wound and bandaging myself up once I get out. It’s a superficial cut, but damn if it didn’t bleed a lot. Hurts like a son of a bitch. Truth is, I would’ve taken that bullet for Allie in a heartbeat. I hate that she was hurt.

  “Pretty sure he’s waiting up for you or Allie. Little thing won’t go to sleep,” Peppermint says when I rejoin her and Dash in the main room.

  She stands up and hands him over to me. He immediately reaches up, trying to touch my face. I sit down with him and lay him to rest his head on my shoulder.

  “It’s time to settle down, little man.”

  Dash gets up and walks Peppermint to the door, leaning down and whispering to her. She shakes her head and shuts the door in his face.

  “Your Uncle Dash just got shot down,” I say to Wes, chuckling. “I’m not surprised. He has no game. None.”

  “She says I’m too young for her,” Dash gripes. “Can you believe that shit?”

  “You are too young for her,” I reply. “Maturity-wise.”

  “She can’t be more than twenty-five, twenty-six. Damn, man, I’m twenty-one. That’s not that big of a difference.”

  I laugh. “Dude, she’s in her thirties. And I mean, mid to late thirties. She’s got a kid your age.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Yeah.”

  He shrugs. “The older the berry, the sweeter the juice.”

  I burst out laughing and grimace at the pain in my side. It does make Wes smile, though, so it’s worth it. “That is not how that saying goes.”

  He ignores me and starts his game back up, taking his frustration out on unsuspecting zombies. I pat my hand on Wes’s butt, lulling him to sleep.

  “We’ll be going home soon, buddy. As soon as your mama is better.”

  ALLIE

  I lay Wes down in his bassinet and put his bottle in the sink. I’ve been home a few weeks now, slowly recuperating. I thought I was going to die. Thought I had died. I was going to miss out on all this. I thank God that didn’t happen.

  “Well, what do you think?” I ask Hunter, coming to lay down beside him.

  He’s in our bed, nothing on except a pair of boxer briefs. His brow is furrowed, his gaze focused on the television although a commercial is on. I know he isn’t watching it. He’s ignoring my question.

  I curl against him, skimming my fingers over his nipple rings and down his happy trail. We haven’t had sex since I’ve been home. He’s been so worried about hurting me, he’s been holding back. Afraid to touch me. I miss that connection with him.

  “They’re getting ready to open the bar & grille. I know I can help, and I want to. It feels right.”

  This all feels right. Becoming a Harlot would just be icing on the cake.

  “Isn’t one patch enough?”

  The day I came home, Hunter presented me with my ol’ lady patch. His ol’ lady patch. I officially belong to him. Not like I needed anything to make it official. I’ve always been his. Since the first moment I met him.

  “I want you to support me on this.”

  “You want me to be okay with you joining the Harlots?”

  “Yes, I do. The same way I support you being in the club. It’s the same respect.”

  “It’s different for me,” he replies. “If something happens to me, you’ll be taken care of. You’ll be fine.”

  “Oh, so you can do dangerous things, but I can’t?”

  “You’re damn right.”

  I sit up and straddle his lap. His body tenses, and his cock jumps. He’s missed me too. I know it.

  “But I like doing dangerous things.”

  I scoot down, pulling his underwear down as I do. The tip of his dick is glistening with precum, and I lick it off, smiling up at Hunter.

  “Jesus,” he mutters.

  “Can I become a Harlot?”

  He thrust his fingers through my hair, urging me down, but I resist. His dick isn’t going in my mouth until he relents.

  “The thought of it makes me want to do bad things,” I confess. “Really bad things.” I lick his tip again but don’t wrap my lips around him yet. “To you.”

  “Fuck,” he groans, pistoning his hips upward. “Yes, Allie. You can become a Harlot. My fucking Harlot.”

  I take him into my mouth, almost grinning in delight. He can have his club, and I’ll have mine. Together, we will be unstoppable.

  HUNTER

  Allie sits at the bar, proudly wearing her cut. She isn’t patched in yet, just a prospect, but fuck me, her in that leather is a sight I’ll never tire of. I knew the moment she became mine she would want to pledge the Harlots. I’m not crazy about the idea, but she’s my ol’ lady, and I need to support her the way she supports me.

  “Sounds like they’re finally back,” Skylar says at the sound of engines coming to the clubhouse.

  Owen, Bishop, and the other Eagles who went to California have been gone for weeks. It took them some time to track down Owen’s niece, Sloan, as well as the other women, but with the help of the Ravens and L.A. Sinners, they got the job done.

  They were bringing home the women who wanted to return. Some stayed, happy with their situation. It was their call. All Owen wanted was his niece home safely. We helped him with that, and our alliance with them is solid.

  “Let’s go see how it went,” Allie suggests as she walks over to get Wes.

  Skylar follows behind her, picking Maisy up, and we all head outside. Owen gets out first, Bishop right after. He doesn’t look happy, not in the slightest, and he’s sporting a black ey
e. There are scratch marks on his cheek like he was in a catfight and lost.

  “Shit, man, what happened to you?”

  “Owen’s fucking niece,” he grumbles.

  Mason cocks an eyebrow. “She didn’t want to leave?”

  “Oh, she wanted to leave, but not with us. Apparently, Owen isn’t her favorite person. She fought us like a fucking wild animal.”

  Allie stifles a laugh, which causes Skylar to laugh, and Bishop glares over at them. Of course, they both burst out laughing.

  “She sounds like Harlots material.”

  “She needs to be in a damn looney bin,” he complains. “And I need a fucking beer. I’m hungry too. Let’s order pizza.”

  Pizza. It’s always pizza with him. He heads inside, and I throw my arm over Allie’s shoulders.

  “You want to stay for pizza or go home?”

  She smiles up at me. “Home sounds good. In fact, it sounds perfect.”

  I kiss her forehead, then take Wes from her. I walk over to her car, the one I got for her, and put him in his car seat. She has a damn bike too, due to Skylar’s insistence she learn how to ride one, but when she’s taking Wes somewhere, they take the car.

  “See you at home,” I say, opening the door for her. “I love you.”

  “I love you too, baby.”

  I won’t ever tire of hearing her say that. And I thank God above every day she gave me another chance, that she realized I was worth the pain.

  Because she and Wes — my family — are worth everything.

  THE END

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