Jump: Book 7 in the Vengeance MC series

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Jump: Book 7 in the Vengeance MC series Page 12

by Natasha Thomas


  As my hand runs over Savannah’s hair that’s damp from perspiration, her eyes flutter open, and albeit hazy, she looks up at me and blinks.

  “Hey, there gorgeous. You took a nasty fall, but help is on the way. Can you tell me your name?” Savannah struggles for a moment, but when she speaks, I know it’s already too late.

  “Kellen,” she whispers. “I love him so much. Tell him…sorry. Tell him…it was for the…best.”

  Willing to do just about anything to give her peace of mind, I nod.

  “I’ll tell him, gorgeous. You have my promise.”

  Savannah gives me a weak smile as her eyes flutter closed.

  “And Marcus,” her voice comes out hoarse and broken. “I want him to be happy. Tell him to find her…that she’s his forever.”

  “Okay, sweetheart,” I murmured, continuing to stroke her hair. “No,” Savannah coughs. “You have to…listen. He wanted it to be me because he couldn’t have her. She loves him, though. I feel it when I see her watching him. She just needed time. Tell him to find her. Tell him to make her listen. Tell him to love her enough for the both of them.”

  There are two things that I believe with every fiber of my being as I watch Savannah draw her last breath. One, she was assuredly the most selfless woman I have ever met. And two, if there is a heaven, Savannah Givens was destined to gain entry.

  “I’ll tell them both, gorgeous. Now how about you just rest a minute before the ambulance gets here. I’ll watch over you and make sure you’re safe,” I force myself to say as a sweet, peaceful smile graces her lips.

  “He’s…so…strong,” she grates out. “He needs…friends…like you. But he needs her…more.” The next time I look down at her, Savannah’s eyes are focused firmly ahead on nothing. The tell-tale thousandyard stare is not something I’m a stranger to, but it’s also not something I’m accustomed to seeing on the face of a person I’ve come to care about a great deal.

  Savannah Givens was pronounced dead in her home on February fourteenth, less than three hours before her husband intended to surprise her with a vacation to the Bahamas for Valentine’s Day. Her husband didn’t make it in time to say goodbye, and her family didn’t mourn her. Her son was told by his father that his mother had passed away peacefully, but would never know just how much she gave up so that he could be spared the pain of seeing her suffer.

  That day changed my outlook on life. I vowed never to live with regrets, promising myself that I would tell those I loved just how much until one day the unthinkable happened.

  ***** “Austin,” Derek barks, clicking his fingers in front of my face. “We’ve got a call of shots fired. Get your head in the game and your shit together,” he demands, checking and holstering his Glock.

  “Location?” I ask, following his lead and checking my service weapon.

  “1975 Lister Drive. Now, I know that’s…” I don’t hear a word Derek says after he relays the address. The sound of blood rushing through my ears and the pounding beat of my heart drowns everything else out. Why? Because that’s Mia’s address, and I’ll be damned if I stand around and listen to Derek when I could be out there making sure not a hair on my woman’s head is harmed.

  Snatching my cell off my desk, I call a number I’ve had since he got it but have never once used.

  “Don’t hang up,” I command, trying unsuccessfully to keep my voice neutral.

  “Then talk fast,” the rough timber on the other end of the line returns.

  “How many of your men can you get to Mia’s at short notice?”

  “Depends. How urgent is it?” He hedges. Telling him what the little I heard between bouts of hyperventilating and wanting to throw up, I say,

  “Six shots fired. All of them were close range aimed at the outside of the house. Reports state no one’s injured, and I plan on going in before that changes. So I’ll ask you again, how many of your men can you get on scene?”

  “All of them,” Patrick states harshly. “I’ll round up the boys and be there in fifteen. If you aren’t there, then we aren’t waiting.”

  “Fair enough,” I agree because I wouldn’t want him to. If Patrick gets there first, then he can have at it whoever it is that dared to shoot at our woman.

  “I’m out, but just know that when this is all said and done, you and I are going to have a long overdue conversation,” he says by way of warning.

  It might not be the right time, in fact, I’m sure it’s not, but there’s something to be said for the heat of the moment.

  “As long as you know, that after we’ve talked my cock is going to be wedged so far down your throat, you’ll gag on it, then we’re in agreement.”

  Patrick hisses a curse before muttering,

  “Yeah, we’ll see,” which has a frisson of excitement racing up my spine.

  Like I said, this is the wrong time, and we don’t have enough of it, but you can bet your ass and his that today won’t end without him in my bed and his promise that’s where he’ll stay.

  CHAPTERTHIRTEEN ~ Jump ~

  “ Myadvicetomybrotheronhow tostop knocking up his wife.Swallows don’t bring babies;Storks do.”

  –The extentof Jump’s knowledge aboutthe animal kingdom When Austin’s call came in, I almost didn’t answer it. If it weren’t for Cash’s challenging glare, I wouldn’t have. My brother knows something’s up, that something’s different since he saw me yesterday, and while he isn’t demanding I tell him what’s going on, Cash’s eyes are conveying a very clear message. He will find out, and Cash wants me to be the one to come to him for once.

  But right now, none of that matters.

  “Where’s Boss?” I snarl, striding past Gage into the clubhouse. “Last time I saw him, he was in his office with, Beth. I don’t think you’re going to want to be interrupting him, though, brother,” Gage replies warily.

  “I don’t give a fuck what they’re doing, I need him and the rest of you on your bikes, now,” I yell over my shoulder. Gage doesn’t question me further. Instead, he starts rounding up the rest of our brothers, telling them to be ready to ride as soon as Boss emerges from his office.

  Throwing the door open, I met with the sounds of skin slapping and the sight of Beth bent over her husband’s desk as he powers into her from behind. Once upon a time, I would have looked my fill before turning away and praying Boss didn’t kill me for seeing his wife naked the next time we were alone. But now, Beth’s large, full tits pressed against the scarred timber don’t register. Neither do her moans or Boss’ grunts of pleasure. All I care about is getting to Mia, and to do that, I need my President to have my back.

  With a high-pitch shriek, Beth is the first one to notice me standing there with my arms folded over my chest and my foot tapping the polished concrete floor impatiently. She scrambles to cover herself, and if I were a better man that wasn’t so on edge, I would have looked away. But as it stands, I’m not, and I don’t.

  “Get the fuck out,” Boss roars, wrapping his arms around his wife’s naked body. He couldn’t give a shit that his dick’s swinging in the breeze, but just the thought of another man seeing his wife in a compromising position has Boss spitting fire. Not that I can blame him since I feel exactly the same way about Mia.

  “We have a situation. Mia’s in trouble and I need everyone who can ride, and that includes you, at her place yesterday,” I say in a quiet, yet lethal voice.

  “Oh God. Is she okay?” Beth asks as she pulls her jeans up her legs.

  “I fucking hope so because not even God will save the motherfucker who harms a hair on her head.” Boss is dressed and kissing his wife on the forehead moments later, signaling for me to follow him.

  “Status.”

  “Not a fucking clue. Austin called and said there were shots fired at Mia’s place. When I drove past this morning, her car was in its usual spot and Devlin and Mathias’ Range Rover was parked right next to it,” I share.

  According to Knight who I’ve talked to almost every day since Mia was rel
eased from the hospital, Mia was ecstatic that Devlin and Mathias had decided to stay in Furnace a little longer. How long, Knight didn’t know, but he was glad they had because Mia was apparently happier than her.

  I knew about the boys Mia cared about like they were part of her family, and I knew she’d missed them fiercely since leaving them in Phoenix two years ago. She had minimal contact with them, and I knew that hurt her in ways I would never understand. But in my defense, how could I? Mia hadn’t opened up to me even remotely during the nights we spent on her couch or in my bed. She was a closed off then as she is now.

  When I showed up in Vegas, intending to lay myself bare and tell Mia how I’ve felt about her from the first moment I saw her, something flashed in her eyes that warned me then wasn’t the right time. My heart told me I was making a mistake, that I should tell her. Regardless of Mia’s refusal to see what was staring her in the face and her determination to hold me at arm’s length, she needed to know that I wouldn’t stop chasing her. It didn’t matter if she ran to the ends of the Earth, I would follow, and I would bring her back.

  The issue with that was every time I made the decision to open my soul to her, Mia would categorically shut down on me. Her body would tense, and she would physically remove herself from my arms. Mia’s eyes would shutter as if a curtain had been pulled to keep the light out. The worst part of it all was that I had no idea how to get through to her when she was like that. So I did what I do best and fucked it up.

  I got frustrated. I couldn’t control my temper, and I scared her. My biggest regret is the fear filled expression and the way Mia flinched away from me when I shouted at her for being an obstinate child. The way her eye teared up immediately as her hands flew to cover her face was, not only horrifying but telling too. It was then that I knew without a doubt someone had hurt my girl. I also vowed to find out who it was and end the motherfucker so that he could never hurt another woman ever again.

  Boss clasp my shoulder, causing me to jerk toward him with my fists raised defensively. I hadn’t realized we’d stopped just short of entering the main room, but then again, I was lost in memories of Mia and those always have had a tendency to make me lose track of time.

  “Sly’s been on the scanner, and there’s an ambulance on standby, but reports say no one’s been hurt.” He doesn’t need to add the ‘yet’ because we both know that’s where this will lead if something isn’t done about the situation soon.

  Anyone stupid enough to fire a gun in a suburban neighborhood in broad daylight clearly isn’t all there, and obviously, this moron is no different. Sure, whoever it is will be arrested, and now that I’m aware of the connection between Austin and Mia that Austin will throw the book at this motherfucker, but that’s not enough. I want this asshole to bleed. I want to watch as he realizes who he’s fucked with and the price he’s going to pay for touching what isn’t his.

  “Sly’s called in everyone we have. Gage, Fury, and Cash are here, so they’ll ride with us. Gunner, Green, Maddox, and Deck are already on route and will meet us there. Sly said something about Lucifer being mentioned over the airwaves, you know anything about that?” Boss questions, guiding us both past the line of men waiting for him to give his orders.

  “No,” I reply curtly.

  Ever since losing his wife, Savannah, Lucifer’s been unpredictable at best. A loose cannon before Savannah died, Lucifer disappeared off the grid for months after her death. He kept in contact with his brothers but handed over the gavel to his VP, Bead who was patched in as President less than a week after Lucifer rode back into town.

  Lucifer’s most valuable skill as an MC President and now a bounty hunter for hire – or fugitive recovery specialist as he likes to call himself – is his ability to become a ghost. If he doesn’t want you to know he’s there, then you won’t. It’s as simple as that.

  No one knows where Lucifer goes or what he does, which is how he likes it. He answers to no one and has dedicated the little humanity he has left to finding violent criminals and delivering them to whoever pays the highest. However, like everything, there is always an exception to the rule. And when it comes to Lucifer, his determination to remain aloof and disconnected from the world only falters at the mention of Tatum’s name.

  Ordering everyone to saddle up, Boss swings a leg over the seat of his bike and address us as a group.

  “No one makes a move without my say so, and that includes you, Jump. I get that it’s Mia we’re talking about, and I know how you feel about her, but you do her no favors by charging in there and getting yourself shot.”

  A round of muttered agreement sounds before he goes on to say,

  “Not sure what he’s doing there, but Lucifer may prove to be useful in this situation. He’s smoke, which means he can get in and out without being seen, and if nothing else, case the scene and let us know what we’re up against. That said, let me feel him out and see if he’s receptive to working with us. I don’t know what his agenda is, but my guess is that Tatum’s on shift or he wouldn’t be there.”

  Tatum works as a paramedic for the Westerfield Fire Department and has done since completing her training eight years ago. At five-foot-five and maybe one hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet, the woman barely looks capable of changing a tire, let alone hefting a two-hundredpound man onto a stretcher and then into the back of an ambulance. However, I’ve seen her do it with my own two eyes, so I know it’s a mistake to underestimate her based on her size or because she’s a woman.

  Tatum O’Neil is wickedly funny, scarily intelligent, is more beautiful than any woman has a right to be, and if I weren’t head over heels in love with Mia, I would have made a play for the feisty little spitfire a long time ago. But with two overprotective older brothers, three younger sisters that Tatum works to help support through college, and a father who would sooner kill the first man who dared to defile his daughter, Tatum has always been off-limits.

  Unless your name is Lucifer and you have a death wish, that is.

  CHAPTERFOURTEEN ~ Lucifer ~

  “No,I’mnot a contract killer.but nowIthink about it,Imay reconsider my answer if you keep asking me stupid fucking questions.”

  –Lucifer to Jump I promised myself I wouldn’t do it. I fucking swore today would be the day I didn’t follow her to work and watch over her until it was time for her to knock off for the day. But as usual, when it comes to Tatum, I failed fucking miserably. She is the only woman I know capable of turning me into some kind of psychotic stalker, and that includes my wife.

  Now, sitting across the road from a large house that some time ago was divided into four individual apartments, I’m fucking thrilled that I’m weak when it comes to Tatum. Because if I weren't, I wouldn’t be here to see her put her life in danger a-fucking-gain.

  I warned Tatum when she told me what she was going to do for a living that I couldn’t handle the thought of her getting hurt. At the time, Tatum laughed it off. She said that accidents happened, and although she would do her best, she would have a job to do. My hands itched to grab hold of her and shake her until Tatum promised me that she would never willingly walk into a situation that could see her injured, or worse, taken from me permanently.

  I lost her once, albeit she was only gone for a short time to complete her certifications, but that alone nearly killed me. I couldn’t go through that again; her being absent from my life for any reason, much less forever.

  Tatum is my North. She is why I didn’t descend into the darkness that threatened to overwhelm me when my wife died. When she smiles at me, everything inside me instantly feels at peace. A feeling that only comes second to the memory of her telling me she loves me and always will.

  There are so many things about our fucked up situation that I lost count, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting Tatum with a desire that burns so brightly I’m almost blinded by it. Her dad hates me. Her brothers think I’m too old for her. Tatum’s younger sisters are selfish brats and despise their sister paying attention
to anyone who isn’t them. The men she works with are weary of me, and rightly so, and don’t hesitate to take every opportunity to warn her to stay away from me.

  That’s not even taking into account how dangerous my job is, or that it takes me out of town for days, if not weeks at a time, leaving Tatum alone and unprotected in a world filled with assholes that hold grudges over my time as President of Satan’s Sons.

  I can see why her brothers and co-workers feel the way they do. I’m a forty-three-year-old man lusting after a twenty-six-year-old woman for fuck's sake. Tatum is young, gorgeous, and has her whole life in front of her; she doesn’t need a middle-aged, widower that just happens to also be a washed up biker and current gun for hire fucking up her future. But I’ll be damned if I’ll let reason get in the way of what I feel for Tatum.

  It doesn’t have to make sense to anyone else. Everything I do, I do for her. Every job I accept that takes me away from her is one step closer to securing our future together. So what I’m about to do is going to make even less sense because it risks everything I’ve worked so hard to achieve over the last twelve months.

  But before I can go and collect my wayward woman, throw her over my shoulder and spank her ass until she feels the sting of my palm for days, Boss appears beside me.

  “Lucifer,” he greets with a nod. I heard him and his boys roll up. You’d have to be deaf not to hear ten Harley’s all with growling exhausts and rumbling engines, no matter where they were or the time of day. However, in this otherwise eerily silent street, the sound of their bikes echoed menacingly, alerting every man and his dog to their imposing presence. Fucking idiots!

  “Boss,” I grunt, keeping my eyes focused on the amazing, yet soon-to-be begging for mercy woman that owns my heart.

  “Figured you were here because she is,” he says, tilting his head in Tatum’s direction. “You plan on doing anything besides stare at her ass.”

 

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