The man smiled. "You can call me papi, mamacita." He ran his hand down her body toward her ass in the seat.
Gabby struck out like her brother taught her. But the man caught her fist. Then he grabbed her ass, anyway. He took out her phone and held it up. "Look what these bitches are getting off welfare."
He threw the phone down to the ground and smashed it with his booted heel. Gabby blinked at the pieces of glass and plastic. Could a dead phone be tracked?
"Or she got it on her back," said the white-blond haired guy.
"I am a United States citizen," said Gabby. "I was born here."
"Then show me your papers, mamacita," said the blond one who seemed to be in charge.
"They're at home. My name is Gabrielleia Hernandez."
"You know what, mamacita, shut your fucking mouth," said the dark haired, handsy guy. "Unless it's around my cock."
He reached for his belt buckle. Gabby's heart beat into her ears and drowned out the sound of the leather strap coming undone from the metal buckle.
"Roman, you want first crack at that ass?"
Roman? Gabby looked around again. Motorcycles. Racecars. There was a Nazi emblem on the hood of one of the cars.
"Roman?" she said. "Roman Voigt? I know you. You're the one who hit Crow in the race."
"Good," Roman grinned. "You're Watchers Crew property. So you're used to being shared and passed around."
"If I were you," she said, "I'd let me go. You've already pissed off my brother, Hawk."
Roman's advance halted at the sound of that name. His eyes twitched as he studied her. The man had to have looked Hawk in the eye at some point in his miserable life. If so, then he would see the similarities in Gabby's face.
"And my boyfriend is coming after you, too. FBI Agent Yohaness Obademi? Does that name ring a bell?"
"Fuck." Roman turned his head skyward.
The dark haired guy wrapped his belt around his wrist. He looked between the two of them. Uncertainty now clouded his glassy eyes.
"Oh, yeah," Gabby continued now finding a reserve of steel from somewhere inside her chest. "And did I mention my dad is the District Attorney, Samuel Hernandez. And my soon to be mother-in-law is a judge which means, unless you let me go, you are well and truly fucked."
The rest of the crew took steps back from her as she continued to talk. Roman's pale face turned ashen. The dark haired one lifted his belted hand to rub at the nape of his neck.
And then the sound of dozens of motors filled the silence.
Gabby turned back to the men with a triumphant grin. "You hear that? Only a Dodge Charger makes that kind of growling sound. And that roaring like a lion ready to charge? Yeah, that's a Harley. Sounds like my brother and my boyfriend are here. They're gonna kick your asses."
Chapter Twenty-Four
Prince kicked out his stand and dismounted. Standing erect, he pulled out his sidearm and checked the safety. As his thumb moved to release the lever, he felt a hand at his bicep.
Chief shook his head. "Holster it."
Prince narrowed his eyes at his friend, his brother in arms. "They have Gabby in there."
"We don't want her getting caught in any crossfire. Let's use our heads and our hands first."
Up ahead, Hawk decided to use his feet. He kicked the door of the Henchmen's warehouse in. The Baztards and Watchers combined were twenty people deep. None of the men or women had needed any convincing when they heard the name Henchmen. When they heard Gabby's name all of their faces stoned over.
Gabby was a favorite in both clubs with her infectious smile and her fussing over to make sure everyone's dinner and dessert plates were full. Even though Hawk, Eagle, and Prince kept her mostly out of crew and club business, every member knew and had affection for her. And they all rushed in the broken open door without a moment's hesitation.
Prince hurried into the fray striking out against the first man who was not one of his own. He'd been following the letter of the law for the last three years, working inside the system, crossing T's and dotting I's.
It felt good to handle things with his fists instead of a pen. He needed no evidence to clock this piece of shit in the jaw. There would be no reports to file as he shoved the man aside and went for the next.
Prince stepped over the prone body that crumpled to the floor. Then he spotted Gabby. Roman had his fist around her upper arm.
Prince saw red.
He pulled his gun from its holster, released the safety and pointed it at Roman's head. He walked slowly through the brawl. No one approached him. None of the fists and feet that were swinging met him along the way.
When Roman spotted Prince and his steel friend, he pulled Gabby in front of him as a shield. Didn't matter. Roman was taller than his petite, little princess. Prince saw the whites of the pathetic excuse for a man's eyes. He had a clear shot. His finger caressed the trigger.
Legalities went through his head. With each step closer, Prince built a multitude of iron-clad cases. He could claim self-defense. Hell, he was an officer of the law, and this was a crime scene. If that didn't work, his mother was a judge. His neighbor, and soon to be father-in-law, was the District Attorney. He would get off. And if he didn't, it didn't matter. All that mattered was that Gabby was safe.
"Prince, wait." Chief's clear voice spoke in his ear. "Let's take him in. If you kill him, it'll be satisfying in the moment. If he goes on trial, it hurts the Governor and lets the community see that justice does work."
Prince was hallucinating if he thought those words were coming out of Chief's mouth. Chief who put not an ounce of trust in the system. Instead of listening to the devil over his shoulder, Prince took another step towards his angel.
Chief rounded Prince. He stepped in front of the gun, with his back to the barrel and faced Roman. But even with his brother's back in the path of the bullet, Prince did not lower the gun.
"Let her go," Chief said to Roman.
Roman looked around the crowded warehouse. His men were down or had deserted him, running out the door and into the setting sun. He was surrounded by the type of men and women he purported to hate, men and women who returned the feeling. Under the gravity of the situation, Roman loosened his grip on Gabby.
Prince exhaled. His forearm lowered, and he replaced the gun in its holster to receive the woman he loved more than anything in this world.
But Gabby didn't run into his arms. She turned and clocked Roman in the jaw. "Told you."
Then she turned on her heel. It wasn't until she was away from Roman that she grimaced and hugged her knuckles to her chest. Prince chuckled as she finally came into his arms where she belonged.
"I've got you, monkey." He kissed her face and then he kissed her injured hand. He held her tightly, breathing her in.
"Gabs?"
Gabby turned her head against Prince's chest. Her brother stood before them. He had a smudge at his temple, but was otherwise unharmed. She let go of Prince and wrapped her arms around her brother's huge frame.
Hawk folded his baby sister in his arms and petted the back of her head. His voice was soft and low. "He didn't… hurt you? Did he?"
Gabby lifted her head. Her eyes flashed with indignation. "He stomped my phone."
Hawk let out a long sigh through flaring nostrils. He nodded gravely down at Gabby. Something unspoken passed between the siblings before Hawk handed Gabby back to Prince. Hawk walked with calm, purposeful strides towards Roman. To his credit, Roman held his ground.
Hawk struck out, with lightning speed, and caught the man's arm. He twisted Roman's forearm behind his back until he squealed like a little pig.
"Hawk," called Chief.
"I'm just subduing him," said Hawk as he continued to wrench Roman's arm. "I don't have handcuffs."
"I do," said Eagle and Owl in unison.
Hawk ignored his brothers and shoved Roman to his knees.
Prince turned to Chief. "Call the cops."
"Who?" Chief shook his head as though P
rince had thrown cold water on him. "Me? I've never called the cops in my life."
Prince scooped Gabby into his arms. He turned from his brother and left the matter to the men and women who had always been the true protectors of this community.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Gabby's head rested against a soft chest. Someone was stroking her hair. The last thing she remembered was being in Prince's arms. He'd told her how much he loved her, that no one would ever hurt her again, that he'd never leave her side. She wasn't sure how much was real and how much was her mind coloring in the edges of a dream.
She'd always known that Prince loved her; never doubted it. He was just finally realizing how much and how differently he loved her in this day and time than in the early years. She'd always known that he would never allow anyone to hurt her. And now he included himself in that mix of perpetrators. She knew he'd never purposely abandon her again. But she also knew that their time together was coming to a temporary end.
The case was solved. He'd be going back to D.C soon. She'd be going back to school at the end of the week. They'd have miles and time between them for a while. But just for a while. They had forever before them. They just had to get over this little bump in the road first.
Waking up in Prince's arms now, Gabby noted that his chest had more cushions than she remembered. And his nails were longer. And he smelled of Chanel. Gabby lifted her head and met the gaze of Judge Obademi.
"Just rest, sweetheart. You're safe."
Gabby had never heard the judge use such dulcet tones. She'd always heard the judge's voice as a commanding bass, not a soft and lilting woodwind.
"Where's Prince?" Gabby asked.
"He had to go back to the scene, to make sure everything was being handled properly; you know him. He asked me to stay with you."
"Did you call my parents?"
"I did," Mrs. O said. I told them you were fine, and we were taking care of you. They'll be back tomorrow."
Gabby couldn't be sad that her parents were ending their trip a bit early. She wanted her mother's arms around her, but the judge's firm caress was nice. She'd never thought of the judge as maternal. She'd seen the woman play catch with her boys, and race alongside them. But she couldn't remember ever seeing Oluyemi give out hugs and kisses.
"Did you know I used to hold you when you were a baby?" asked the judge. "Not often. You were a crier."
"I'm sorry."
"You would settle when you were in Yohaness' arms."
"I love him," Gabby said simply.
"I know," the judge replied.
"I'm going to take care of him," said Gabby into the judge's chest.
"I know."
Gabby straightened, coming face to face with the only other roadblock in her way of a happily ever after. "I'm going to make him very happy. I'm good at it. It's what I'm best at. That may not be changing the world, but it's important work. And it's liberating because he makes me feel like I can do anything, which just makes me want to love him more and harder and better. He can be the one that changes the world. I'll be the one making his world better."
Oluyemi pushed a stray curl back behind Gabby's ear. "Being a wife and a mother is the most important work that I do. It's the reason I leave the house every day. It's the reason I work as hard as I do. I want them to have the best."
Mrs. O sighed, but the sound wasn't one of exasperation. It was content and full of light. She leaned in and smiled conspiratorially at Gabby.
"I'm the only one who didn't bet on you," she said. "I misjudged you, Gabrielleia."
"So, you'll accept me as your daughter-in-law?"
She leaned her head back and laughed. "Don't you think my son should propose first?"
Gabby raised an eyebrow. The judge let out another chuckle.
The front door opened to reveal a tall, dark, handsome commanding presence. Prince strode in. Gabby leapt up and into his arms.
"Hey, monkey," he said pulling her close. He pressed his lips to her temple, and then he turned to his mother. "The Henchmen crew is in holding for assault and kidnapping on both state and federal charges."
The judge came up and clapped her son on the shoulder. Then she cupped his face in her hand. "Good work, son."
After the judge left, Gabby turned to Prince. He traced the outline of her face. Then he rested his head against her forehead. His arms came around to her back and he pulled her into him until their fronts fit like pieces of a puzzle.
"You headed back to D.C. soon?" asked Gabby. Her voice was small inside the cocoon of his love.
Prince pressed his lips to her right eyelid and then her left one. "No."
Gabby jerked her head away from him. "You're not?"
He took a step forward, forcing her to take one back. "I accepted a new position here."
Home. The word on his lips made Gabby's heart flutter like the wings of a butterfly taking its first flight. She even felt herself ascending.
"I'll be consulting with local law enforcement and working out of the justice department to forge a local hate crimes division. It's going to be needed now more than ever with the political climate in the city."
"You're staying?"
"I'm sorry." Prince's eyebrows rose to his hairline as he continued to guide her backwards. "Did I have a choice in the matter?"
"No." Gabby chuckled. Then she noted they were at the door of her bedroom. "How did we get here?"
Prince grinned. "I learn from the best."
"Yeah?" Gabby toed off her shoes. "Because there are a couple lessons I was hoping you'd teach me."
"What's the subject?"
"Love." Gabby fell back on the bed. Ever the insightful tutor, Prince taught Gabby every lesson he could think of while they were between the sheets, on top of the sheets, on the carpet. For these lessons, Gabby applied herself and she aced his examination.
The End
* * *
If you enjoyed Smart Baztard, Book One in the Baztards MC series, then you should see where it all began with Gabby's big brother, Hawk, in Test Drive, Book One of the Watchers Crew series.
About the Author
N.S. Johnson is the alter ego of urban fantasy and fairytale retelling romance author, Ines Johnson.
Ines writes books for strong women who suck at love. If you rocked out to the twisted triangle of Jem, Jericha, and Rio as a girl; if you were slayed by vampires with souls alongside Buffy; if you need your scandalous fix from Olivia Pope each week, then you'll love her books!
Aside from being a writer, professional reader, and teacher, Ines is a very bad Buddhist. She sits in sangha each week, and while others are meditating and getting their zen on, she's contemplating how to use the teachings to strengthen her plots and character motivations.
Read More from N.S. Johnson or Ines Johnson
You can reach her at her website www.ineswrites.com or on Facebook at /inesjohnsonauthor.
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Smart Baztard (Baztards MC Book 1) Page 13