Wonderfully Wrecked_Reckless Bastards MC

by KB Winters

  The day was warm, and it had grown warmer since I’d been inside the art shop. It felt nice and it made me wish I were back home, in my apartment in San Diego. It was a five-minute walk from the beach and a walk along the sand always guaranteed to clear my mind. I realized I missed my old apartment and my old life.

  My mind wandered this way and that. This was my first hour alone with nothing but time on my hands since Lasso and I had been on the run. I began to hear a motorcycle in the distance; as my ears pricked up it grew closer until the bike was on the sidewalk barreling right toward me. I jumped out of the way at the last minute, lost my footing and fell to the ground. A loud snap sounded but luckily it was just my phone on the concrete. And my sunglasses. Probably my e-reader too, dammit.

  “Shit,” I groaned, but when I tried to stand, a pain in my elbow radiated up to my neck.

  “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  When I focused my eyes, Cross was leaning over me, casting a long shadow that only made his scowl look more threatening. If I was inclined to feel threatened. Which I wasn’t.

  “Don’t speak to her that way!” Moon snapped as she knelt beside me. Then she helped me up, carefully and tenderly. “Are you all right?”

  “Other than the people trying to kill me and my baby, I’m fine. And I’m sorry to bring this trouble to your place, it’s a great place.”

  A yelp of pain escaped when I straightened my arm.

  “I’m fine,” I lied, using my other arm to wipe concrete crud off me. I smiled at Moon but her dipped brows said she didn’t believe me.

  “Really.”

  She scowled at me but in a friendly way. “You’re stubborn, I can tell but at least let me get you some ice for that elbow.”

  Without waiting for my agreement, she pulled me back inside and through to a back room where she sat me on a stool and wrapped ice in a tea towel.

  “Lasso is going to fucking kill me,” Cross complained as he raked both hands through his hair, a worried and slightly annoyed look on his face.

  I sighed, trying not to hold it against him but he made it hard. “Too bad I moved so quickly, huh? You could have been rid of me permanently.” He scowled and me; Moon gasped, glaring at him.

  “Don’t worry Moon, he doesn’t like me but he’s stuck with me for the moment so I’m safe.”

  “Let me help you to your car,” she insisted, and I let her because it was nice to have someone fussing over me for no reason other than they were a good person.

  “Thank you, Moon. If I make it through this, I’d love to come to a class.” I hugged her in an odd show of sentimentality before using my good arm to propel myself into the truck.

  “Goodbye, Rocky. Cross,” she said with a hint of censure when she said his name before walking away, leaving a melody of clashing bangles in her wake.

  “I don’t dislike you,” Cross said with a hint of annoyance. “I’m just worried about my friend.”

  There was no point even trying to reply to that. No matter how many times I told him that I didn’t want Lasso hurt any more than he did, he wouldn’t believe me. So I was done defending myself.

  “Then don’t tell him it happened. It doesn’t matter anyway.”

  “Is that how you live your life, keeping secrets?” He sounded so disdainful and disgusted I wanted to jump out of the car just to get away from him.

  “There’s no one in my life to keep secrets from. It’s just me.” It used to be just me.

  “Not anymore.”

  “We’ll see about that,” I told him because I was pretty sure that this would all end just how I thought it would. Badly.

  My gaze stayed on the blurry asphalt as we zoomed back to the compound and when we arrived in the parking lot I muttered a rushed, “Thanks,” and made my way to the tiny apartment that was my temporary home. I climbed the stairs, undressed on my way to the bed and curled up under the blankets where I let myself cry until my eyes ran dry.

  And I stayed there for the next four days.

  Chapter 20

  Lasso

  “She hasn’t left the apartment in five days and I don’t know what in the hell to do about it.”

  Jag and I were inside my house again, assessing the damage left by Genesis’ thugs and looking for any clues we could find.

  “She won’t talk, only eats enough to keep from being sick and she cries all the damn time, man. She thinks I can’t hear it.”

  Jag’s eyebrows rose. “In that shoebox?”

  “Right? She hides it behind the shower, the toilet, cooking or anything else she can find to hide the sound of her tears. What the fuck?”

  Jag shrugged, pensive as always while he looked around the place.

  “Put yourself in her position, Lasso. She’s stuck with a bunch of strangers who made it no secret they don’t trust her, pregnant and married to a man she doesn’t know and who doesn’t love her. I’m stressed and it’s not my life.”

  He made a good point and I nodded, going to the back of the house to check things out. “They got in through here, cut out one window on the door.” They’d just smashed shit up, probably in anger or maybe just because they could.

  “You hear that?” Jag put two fingers to his lips and pointed to the front where I heard a car door shut. “Stay here, I’ll cover the front entrance.”

  I nodded and watched him go, my heart racing as I waited. And waited.

  The doorbell rang and I held my breath until it became clear these assholes were bold as fuck. I joined Jag just as the door opened to reveal two assholes, one black and one white, both of them with Killer Aces on their jackets.

  “We don’t want any,” I said.

  “Good, because we ain’t selling asshole.”

  Jag was alert and I smirked. “Then what the fuck are you doing on my doorstep?” I took a step up and sized up each of those motherfuckers, looking for weaknesses. They were both strapped on the right side but the white one wore his watch on his right hand. Big muscles, but they weren’t smart. Fucking amateurs.

  “We’re looking for a friend, Big Boy. Know where we can find him?”

  “Big ass black dude with a huge smile? Nope, haven’t seen him.” Jag snickered, and the guy lunged but caught my fist in his throat. “I don’t think so, motherfucker.”

  “I’m. Gonna. Kill. You.” He was doubled over with his hands at his neck. I just laughed.

  “Calm down, Wheezy,” I said. “Tell us what the fuck you want!”

  The other one lunged again but Jag was ready for his ass with a knee to the gut so when the asshole bent forward, Jag wrapped his arm around his throat and squeezed.

  “My brother asked you a question. Answer and you get to keep breathing.” When he needed to be, Jag was a stone-cold asshole. People never saw it coming but it was always a fucking treat to watch. He squeezed tighter to prove his point and the gasping began.

  I drew back my fist and let it go straight at the dude’s nose. It was hard enough to hurt like hell, but it wasn’t broken and when he went down my foot went to his throat.

  “Okay, you assholes want to do this the hard way? I’m game. It’s been awhile, hasn’t it Jag?”

  “Too damn long.” His eyes were as wide as his smile, making Jag look crazy as fuck. “So.”

  Wheezy said, “Just give us the fucking girl, man. She ain’t worth all this.” He tapped my boot and I eased up. A bit.

  “Tell that to your crazy ass friend Genesis, because Rocky is mine and I ain’t giving her up.” I pressed again until he choked and groaned, smacking at my leg. “Got me?”

  “Then this is gonna get messy,” the other one said, gasping for air under Jag’s arm.

  “It’s a good thing we like it messy.” Then before I took another breath I screamed, “Fuck!”

  That asshole punched me in the dick and I bent over before I could stop myself, catching his fist on the way down. “Goddammit!”

  The fucker lunged at me and I moved, landing a blow to the side
of his head, then again with both hands as he took me down.

  “Or,” he grunted, “I could just kill you right now, kill your friend and go get that bitch before any of my boys get hurt.”

  “Too late for that, dick breath.” I hated assholes like him who talked too much. But it gave me plenty of time to grab the blade from my pocket and stick it in his gut, deep enough to hurt but not do real damage.

  “Call her a bitch again so I can twist this fucker in your fat gut. Go on, do it.” He gasped and clenched my wrist to stop me from making good on my promise, but I held on tight. “Tell your boss he won’t survive this.”

  “He won’t care,” he gasped.

  I let go and rolled away before he fell on top of me. “Next time I see you, I’ll kill you.”

  Jag squeezed the guy’s neck until he was on the verge of passing out, then he let go. “That goes double for me. Now get the fuck outta here!”

  They struggled to help each other to their feet and ran off while Jag and I watched with shit-eating grins. And a hint of a grimace on my part. How in the fuck they planned to ride bikes with those injuries I didn’t know. Then again, I didn’t really give a shit either. “Damn that was fun.”

  Jag looked at me and grinned. “Come on, Lasso. You are one crazy motherfucker.” We went back inside, and I grabbed a few things for me and Rocky. The rest of it would have to wait until this shit with Genesis was over, when I could get a cleaning crew in here without risking their safety.

  “That’s it for now,” I told him and we both headed for the front door just as my land line began to ring.

  Jag gave me a look like I was a dumb shit. “Dude, you still have a fucking land line? What are you, fifty?”

  “Asshole,” I grumbled and picked up the phone. “What?”

  “Let’s be reasonable, man. I have the power to destroy your little club, and I will if Rochelle doesn’t come back and help me.”

  I barked out a laugh. “Power? You? I have a deal for you Genesis, forget about Rocky, go the fuck away and I won’t have to kill you.”

  He might have thought he was big shit, but he was fucking with the wrong man and the wrong damn club.

  “Not if I get to you first.”

  Another laugh escaped me. “Don’t count on it, asshole.” I hung up the phone, satisfied as fuck that I could slam it hard enough to crack the damn thing.

  “What are we gonna do?”

  “We head back and hope like hell Rocky’s plan will bear some fruit.”

  “That’s a lot of hope.”

  “At the moment, it’s all we got.”

  ***

  Rocky was snuggled up in my arms, sleeping soundly with a satisfied smile on her face. After the run-in with the Genesis assholes yesterday, I came back and found her still sad but no longer crying. She took one look at me, drew me a hot bath, washed me, sucked me dry and then fucked me until all I could do was curl around her and sleep.

  On and off for the past twenty-four hours, she couldn’t get enough of me. We lost ourselves in sweet, hot fucking. It was soft and slow, hungry and intense, it was everything and then some. Too bad she hadn’t said anything more than a few dirty phrases the entire time.

  Her cellphone rang and I nudged her awake and took a quick look at the clock. Two seventeen in the fucking morning. That couldn’t be good. “Rocky, babe, your phone.”

  She groaned, half turning and blindly reaching for it. “Yeah?”

  “You fucking bitch!”

  The stupid son of a bitch shouted so loud it was like he was in the damn room with us. “I fucking know you had something to do with this shit!” Genesis was seething, I could hear him foaming at the mouth even over the phone.

  Rocky’s lips curled into a smile. “Something to do with what, Genesis?”

  “Don’t you fucking play dumb with me, you stupid bitch! When I get my hands on you Rochelle, I’m gonna make you pay.”

  “Interesting word choice,” she murmured, stretching and drawing my eyes to creamy, naked tits. “Did you have a reason for calling?”

  “My goddamn stash houses, Rochelle! I don’t know how but I know you had something to do with this shit and I promise you’ll pay. Maybe I’ll finally get a pretty dollar for selling that sweet ass of yours. I know some real sick fucks who’d pay good money to fuck you up, princess.”

  I reached for the phone then, prepared to reach through that motherfucker and choke the life from him but Rocky leaned away from me. “How on earth would a stupid bitch like me know anything about stash houses, whatever that is.”

  “Too much,” I mouthed to her and she rolled her eyes.

  “It’s funny now, but after I fucking kill your punk-ass boyfriend, you’ll have no one to protect you.”

  She sat up and pushed her hair from her eyes with her free hand. “Husband, actually. Lasso is my husband, Genesis.” She stunned him into silence. “What, no words of congratulations?”

  “Too bad you’ll be a widow soon.” He spat out the words, but Rocky was tough as nails. She didn’t even flinch. “Unless you give me a couple weeks. Remember how kind I was to you?”

  “I remember your brand of kindness, Genesis. And I’ve moved on from it. Now maybe if you stop this shit right now, you might not lose everything.” Her threat was clear, if not explicit.

  “Rochelle be reasonable. It’s just a couple jobs that you can plan in your sleep.”

  “Are you really begging me? Maybe you should have fucking asked nicely instead of threatening me, fucking up my property and threatening my friends! Now, Genesis, now I say fuck you! And I’m going to make sure everything you love burns to the fucking ground!”

  She ended the call and tossed the phone across the bed. Her hands were shaking and tears streamed down her cheeks.

  Fucking goddamn tears. They wrecked me every fucking time. “You handled him perfectly, Rocky.”

  “Yeah, I know, but these pregnancy hormones don’t play around. The baby doesn’t like to be stressed or angry.”

  I stood to get her something to drink when there was a knock at the door.

  I ran to the door, knowing good news doesn’t come calling at three in the morning.

  “Jag, what’s up?” His expression was serious as fuck, sober and stone cold.

  “There was a break-in at Bungalow Three,” he said referring to one of the whorehouses the club owned. “They slapped around a few of the girls but when more guys arrived, they began shooting. A few guys are injured but those fuckers are locked in with the girls. Backup is needed.”

  Rocky appeared at my side, wrapped in a silky, flowered robe. “Sorry about all this,” she told Jag.

  “Don’t apologize for that, ever. Just keep my godchild safe in there, yeah?”

  She smiled sheepishly and nodded. “I’m doing my best.” Rocky turned to me and cupped one side of my face, green eyes shining with worry and affection. “Don’t worry about me, a few words will only piss me off. Stay safe, Lasso.” She patted her belly. “This little guy and me? We’re counting on you.”

  I turned my face into her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. “I’ll keep you safe.”

  “I know. You guys be safe and I’ll place a few more calls to fulfill my promise to my ex.”

  I grinned and left with Jag, smiling as I thought about how fucking tough Rocky was. Tougher than even she realized. I gave Jag a quick rundown of the phone call with Genesis and his eyes bugged out of his head.

  “Cross’ll be pissed that you disobeyed him.”

  We hopped on our bikes. “He can be pissed all he wants. She made the first round of calls on our way back from Idaho.” Jag smiled, started his bike and we made our way to Bungalow Three. From the outside it looked like a big ass tiki hut, complete with thatched fucking roof in the middle of the desert. We slowed near the entrance, pulling our bikes up near the others at the wooden gate.

  Cross was waiting when we hopped off.

  “Did you check that shit over there?” I asked. “A few Roadk
ill vests mixed in with the Killer Aces.”

  “Yeah I saw it,” he grumbled and rubbed a hand over his face, calculating how much damage we could do with the guys already here against at least a dozen that we could see.

  Stitch sauntered over with a deadly serious expression on his face. “I got some semi-autos in the back of the truck, Prez.” With an ortho boot on his ankle from a bar fight, Stitch jerked his thumb at his antique Chevy, his smile as shiny as new fucking tires. “Want me to get’em?”

  “Fuck yeah,” Cross nodded, scanning the area around the building in search of more backup.

  Stitch howled with glee. “Let’s fuck up some shit, boys!” He limped his tall ass to the Chevy and lifted the southwest print blanket in back to reveal a dozen automatic weapons.

  “Can’t take the redneck out of the biker, that’s for fucking sure,” Jag joked, smacking Stitch on the back. “I think your math is off man, there are only five of us.”

  He picked up two, strapping one over each shoulder.

  “Two for me since I got a gimp leg,” Stitch said, “the rest of you fuckers take what you can handle.”

  Savior grabbed two and handed the rest over to us, staring at each of us until everyone was silent with their eyes on him. “Jag and Stitch, you stay out here and pick’em off as they exit. Careful of the girls. Golden Boy will go around back with me. Max, Cross and Lasso will go through the front. Eyes alert boys, kill any kutte that’s not our own and meet up by Stitch’s ugly ass truck.”

  “Fuck you,” he said, smiling wide with one gun perched on his shoulder.

  We broke apart and executed orders perfectly with me bringing up the rear. We entered the house, checking every fucking room. Left room, clear. Right, clear each of us yelled out as we cleared the rooms, mostly of naked hookers just trying to earn a living in the middle of this shit show.

  “Clear,” Max called out behind me just as a Killer Ace stepped into the hall six feet from me. My gun went up and I squeezed the trigger in two tight bursts, dropping that asshole to the ground.

  “Clear,” I yelled back to the sound of Savior chuckling. “Head outside to Jag,” I told the girls because they all loved his quiet ass. We headed to the second floor, performing the same actions but this time I could hear the heavy footfalls of motorcycle boots.