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Bad Breed (MC Romance)

Page 11

by Amanda Heartley


  As the smoke begins to clear, suddenly I see Ralph stand from behind the bar and take aim at us. I hit him in the neck and the blood spurts from his jugular like a fountain as he crashes into the bottles behind him.

  Adrian, and the rest of our guys storm the front, while Al and his Pirates attack the Cobras from the back door, overwhelming them with sheer numbers and unmatched firepower. Bad call, Bobby. He’d seriously underestimated our strength.

  I’m horrified when I see movement from the corner of my eye and turn to see Bobby appear from the bathroom, looking down the barrel of his gun at me. Jake instinctively moves in front of me, shielding me, and raises his SIG, but it’s too late. Before I can react, he shoots Jake twice, and he slumps back against me, moaning in pain and holding his chest.

  He falls to the floor, his head resting against my shins. I’m so mad with rage, I shout “Bastard!” at the top of my voice as I empty my entire magazine into Bobby, knocking him clean off his feet and back into the bathroom door as the shots hit him.

  The Cobras have lost their president and all their leaders. Some of the foot soldiers who are left, are running scared as they flee out the front door. Adrian and Al chase after them, firing shots just above their heads so they know not to come back, and I hear them start their bikes with a thundering rumble and scream off down the road.

  I grab Jake and drag his limp form behind the bar as more shots fly around the place from the Cobra’s die-hard members and die hard they did as I hear screams and more bodies dropping like flies. I wonder for a second what kind of life we’ve been living, but there’s no time for reflection. I eject my empty clip and reach for another to reload.

  “Not so fast!” I hear someone say, and I look up to see Crack pointing his gun at me, grinning. My first instinct is to protect Jake, and I shuffle in front of him, but I’m defenseless. I could try to shoot Crack, but I’m out of ammo and I know I’ll be dead before I can even reach for my spare magazine.

  It’s over, I know it. I’ve lived a violent life and now I’ll die a violent death. I smile, strangely resigned to my impending demise. All I can think of is Jo, and the solemn promise I made her that I’d return to live a new life with her. Yes, I smile, but inside I’m so sad that I can’t keep my promise. That hurts so much more than the bullet that’s about to rip through my body, and a tear rolls down my cheek at what could’ve been.

  “Aww. You crying for your momma, Flynn?” Crack says, laughing at me. “Don’t worry, you’ll be seeing her soon,” then he pulls the slide back, rams it forward again and takes aim. I flinch, expecting the pain, but when he pulls the trigger, nothing happens. That was my only hope when I saw him cock his gun. Any idiot knows racking the slide is a one-step process. You never ram the slide forward. What an amateur. He’s jammed it, and I laugh at him. Before he can try again, I hear a woman’s voice, screaming like a banshee, and it’s getting closer.

  “Don’t…you…EVER…point a gun at my boyfriend!” I’m totally shocked to see Jo’s face appear behind him, and immediately afraid for her safety. But, before he even has a chance to turn around, she puts her hands around his face and pushes her stiffened fingers hard into his eyeballs. He drops his gun and screams in pain as he tries to pull her hands away.

  I jump to my feet as he reels backward with his hands to his face and she kicks him in the balls, hard. I cross my legs where I stand, wincing as I imagine the world of hurt he’s in right now. He doubles forward with the pain, only to meet Jo’s knee as it jerks upward, smashing into his face and he falls, groaning, to the floor.

  “Didn’t I tell you I’d come back soon, you filthy stinking pig?” she says, spitting on his face. “You like slapping ass? You just got your big fat one kicked…by a girl.”

  I reload my gun and holster it inside my cut, speechless at what she just did. She looks even more beautiful when she’s mad. She didn’t need my help at all as she tore into Crack like a hurricane. But, it’s still dangerous around here and my buddy is lying shot, so without a word, I grab Jo and pull her behind me as we duck down behind the relative safety of the bar, leaving Crack to roll on the floor, crying out in pain.

  Jake moans as he sits, propped against the bar. He’s been shot in the chest, and it looks bad. I find a bottle of whiskey and pour some over his wound. He howls in pain, then grabs the bottle from my hand, pulls it to his lips, and takes a huge glug of it before offering it to me. I take a gulp, too, and he smiles.

  “Just like old times, eh, Flynn?” he says, smiling at me.

  I smile back. “Yeah, Jake. Just like old times. Now, don’t talk, I’m going to patch you up, so we can get out of here.” Jake holds my hand tightly and shakes his head, panting.

  “We’ve lived a life, haven’t we?” he says with a laugh. It makes him cough, blood trickles from his mouth and now I’m shit scared for him. He spits it out to the side then smiles at Jo. She takes his hand, tears in her eyes, and I take the other. Jake brings his hands together, even though the effort must be killing him, and puts my hand in Jo’s.

  “You keep him straight, now,” he says to her, coughing one more time, then his head falls to the side, lifeless.

  “Jake…Jake…JAKE!” Distraught, I hug him to my chest so tightly, and warm, salty tears run down my cheeks. Jo tries to comfort me, but right now, I’m inconsolable.

  Jake Atwood had taken one last bullet for me. The man who gave me a life, is gone, and it’s the end of an era.

  At least, it is for me.

  Epilogue

  Flynn

  It’s been a week since our fight with the Cobras, and the few of them that we hadn’t either killed, or left dying had scrambled for their lives, like rats leaving a sinking ship. Those rats were chased out of Hardale and warned never to return. Finally, we’d gotten our town back.

  Through a strange set of circumstances while we were in L.A., the Bad Breed and the Pirates had joined forces into an unlikely alliance and won. But not one of us had wanted to celebrate, even after the dust had settled. We’d all felt it was a hollow victory when we first regrouped at the Atwood home. Our leader had been killed, and we felt down and empty knowing we’d never laugh or share a beer with him again.

  We gave Jake a biker’s funeral I hope he would have been proud of, burying him in the Atwood family plot at the St. Silvester Cemetery, right next to his mother and father. Many other clubs had turned up to pay their respects, and all of us had worn a single spur to commemorate our fallen brother.

  I felt honored to lead the ‘Ringing Out The Dead’, revving my Commander, followed a few seconds later by Adrian and the rest of the Bad Breed, their bikes lined up in a diamond formation. The sound of all those engines, building to a crescendo for two solid minutes, gave me goosebumps and sent shivers running up and down my spine. Slowly, the deafening noise had subsided as, one-by-one, each man shut down his engine. I gave the final rev then shut mine off, too, and the graveyard fell silent once more as they lowered his body into the ground.

  We’d held a wake for him that same night at his home, just as he would have wanted. He’d lived his life full on, in the fast lane, the wind in his hair, and screaming down the highway at a hundred miles an hour. I knew Jake, and the last thing he’d want is for any of us to be moping around, mourning his death. We’d all said our goodbyes to him at the graveside, and now it was time to get back to life. The place was crammed with everyone who’d attended the funeral, and it was more like a party as we celebrated his life.

  It was so uplifting to see the guys drinking, laughing and sharing stories of their time with the legendary Jake Atwood. For me, it marked the passing of my old life as a member of an MC, and the start of a new beginning…with my beautiful Jo.

  Jake had saved my life—more than once—but the final bullet he took for me has given me a new life I could never have dreamed of just a few short weeks ago. In the smoke and chaos of the Starlight bar, he knew it, and laid down his life for me…and Jo. Something I’ll be eternally grateful for.<
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  * * *

  It’s the morning after the wake. I open my eyes and smile when I see Jo looking back at me from her pillow.

  “Good morning, beautiful,” I say.

  She smiles back, her sultry eyes drawing me to her and we kiss, holding each other tight as my hands roam her silky skin.

  She’s been through so much since she hooked up with me. Killing, death, violence, and I still can’t believe she’s stuck with me through it all when most women would have run a mile at the first sign of it.

  And, I’ll never forget that she saved my life, too...in more ways than one. More than she’ll ever know. I thought I was dead, on the inside as well as the out, and when Crack aimed his weapon at me that night, I thought it was the end for me. That vision of Jo, unleashing her unbridled fury on him was a sight to behold, and it’s one I’ll never forget as we embark on our new life together. Don’t ever cross this woman will be my mantra. She saved me from certain death and I’m going to spend the rest of my life thanking her in every way I can. I’m sure we’ll both enjoy it.

  “Is it over now, Flynn?” she asks with wide, pleading eyes when we break our kiss. “Can we go home, now?”

  “Yes, it’s over, Jo. We’ll get packed and out of here in a little bit.” She looks intently into my eyes, as if she’s checking that I’m serious, then she smiles, plants a quick kiss on my lips and literally leaps out of bed and dances her way to the shower. I must admit, I was hoping to take her in my arms and fuck her again until she screamed before we left, but I guess that’ll have to wait until we get back to L.A.

  * * *

  It’s ten-thirty by the time we get downstairs and all the other MC’s have already left to get back to their territories. I get it. They don’t like leaving their area for too long in case someone else has the idea to move in on them.

  All the guys in the Bad Breed are slumped around the furniture, nursing their hangovers and Adrian seems to be the only guy who’s alert as he sips on a cup of strong, black coffee. I’ve always wondered how he manages to drink such huge amounts of alcohol all night, yet it never seems to affect him the next morning.

  “Morning,” I say, pouring Jo and myself a cup of joe before we join him at the table.

  “What, no vanilla latte?” Jo whispers, smiling and raising an eyebrow at me. I give her a pointed look and raise my index finger to my lips to hush her from embarrassing me in front of Adrian, and she lets out a sexy giggle.

  “Morning, you two. That was one hell of a send-off for Jake, wasn’t it? I think we drank the place dry,” he says, chuckling.

  I laugh with him. “I think we did him proud, and thanks for helping me with all the arrangements. You did great.”

  “No problem, man. I sure do miss his ugly face around here.”

  “I hear ya. He was one ugly sonofabitch,” I say, and we laugh.

  “So, what do we do now, Flynn?” he asks.

  “We need a new president, and you know, I’ve been thinking…you should take over,” I say in a low voice. “The boys all admire you for your clear thinking and detailed planning. You’d make a great leader”

  “What are you saying? No way, man. I’m not ready for that. Besides, you’re the vice-president. You should do it.”

  I reach into my bag, pull out my cut and look at my colors for the last time before I hand it across to Adrian. He looks at me, confused.

  “Club property,” I say. “I won’t disrespect the MC by taking it with me.”

  “You’re leaving the Breed?” he asks, looking down at the cut, not believing what he’s hearing.

  “Yeah, I’m out. Jake gave me and Jo a chance when he put himself in front of Bobby’s bullet, and more than anything, I want to take it. Not least to honor what he did for us,” I say, smiling at Jo as she squeezes my hand. I think she knows how hard it is for me to hand over my patch.

  “Wow, Flynn. I never saw that one coming, brother, but I wish you all the best. Maybe I’ll follow one day. Meantime, I guess I’ll figure out this president shit. I’m gonna miss you, man.”

  “You’ll be fine,” I say, as we stand and hug, like the brothers we are, then I turn to Jo. “Are you ready to hit the road?” She smiles and gives Adrian a hug then we say goodbye to the rest of the club, walk out the door and climb on our bikes.

  I have no idea what the future holds for me on the road ahead, but I don’t care—I have no regrets about leaving the Breed. I look across at Jo as I strap on my helmet. I love her. She’s so beautiful in every way. Her flashing eyes, her long black hair, her sexy curves, but most important, her loving heart and courage.

  I can’t wait to start my new life with her by my side.

  Jo

  I briefly look over my shoulder, and watch Hardale shrink toward the horizon. I feel an enormous weight lift from my body as we leave the trauma of the shootings, the killings and Jake’s death far behind us.

  During the time I’ve spent with Flynn, both in L.A. and Hardale, I’ve seen many facets to his personality. I’ve seen John, the teenage friend I loved and lost during our awful childhood. I’ve seen the troubled man who’d shoot a man dead without compunction. I’ve also seen a man for whom honor, integrity and loyalty are the bedrock of his existence, even when faced with situations where he could lose his life.

  But the most moving thing I’ve seen, and what makes me want to be with him, is his soft, emotional side. I guess I saw a clue to it the first time he walked into Dahlia’s diner and ordered that frothy vanilla latte. And, not to mention, he was so tender, warm and loving when we had sex for the first time at my place. But when Jake died at the Starlight, it really came out, and he’d cried like a baby. It proved to me right then that, deep down, he was a good, caring man with a beautiful and sensitive heart.

  And, as we ride back to L.A. together, I feel there’s nothing more I can ask from him. He’s given up his old life for me, and I know it can’t have been easy after all those years with the men he regards as his family. This morning, the Bad Breed said goodbye to one of their best with mixed feelings. They’re happy he’s found a new life, but also sad that he decided to leave them. In a way, I hope it’s not the last time they meet as friends.

  Before we left Hardale, I’d called Dahlia from the gas station where it all began to tell her I was safe, and I was on my way home…with my man in tow. She’d squealed so loud down the phone that I had to hold it six inches away from my ear until she’d calmed down and stopped hollering the news across the kitchen to Steve.

  I thought I’d leave the details of everything else that’s happened until I see her in person, and maybe not tell her everything even then. I’m sure she’d rather not know about the horror that faced me when I walked into the Starlight. She assured me I still had my job at the diner if I wanted it, and for that I’m thankful.

  I don’t know what we’ll do when we get back, but I’m not worried. Flynn talked about opening a biker shop with his share of the Breed’s pot that Adrian promised him just before we left. I think that would be just perfect for him. I’d probably never get him out of there! Who knows, maybe when Flynn and Steve get to know each other a little better, Dahlia can find a new cook and they could work together? That’s probably just a pipe dream, but I would so love it if it happened. All my family together.

  I’m just as happy as I can be to have this gorgeous man as my boyfriend. We’ve got my apartment to get us started, and a job to go back to. We may not have that cabin that Flynn dreamed of, but that can come later. Thank God we don’t have gray hair and failing eyesight, yet. Life will never be the same for either of us, and I’m so excited to get back and start the next chapter of it with him.

  * * *

  We’re eating up the miles and I glance over to Flynn. He looks so darned sexy riding that beast of a Commander in his tight jeans, and his long hair blowing in the breeze. My mind races as I imagine straddling him on that machine, his cock buried deep inside me and riding him until he screams my name. I know I’m stil
l horny from last night, and the throbbing engine between my legs isn’t doing anything to stem my arousal as my mind drifts back to the night before.

  As we’d lay in our bed at the Atwood home, Flynn had rolled over to me while I was asleep and I’d woken to feel his warm tongue gently licking and probing every inch of my pussy under the covers in the darkened room, while his hands rhymthically stroked up and down my entire body from my head to my feet, softly squeezing them when he reached my toes.

  It was so sensual and erotic, just feeling his touch, not able to see anything. It was like being blindfolded…and I liked it. He brought me to orgasm so many times, my so pussy wet with desire and my body wracked with pleasure until I could take no more. I craved having him inside me, and we made love like I’ve never made love with anyone before. I thought I’d physically explode when he reached his own climax, nudging the slick tip of his cock against my swollen clit, sending me crashing over the edge again with my back arching and my legs trembling.

  The delicious memory of it is soaking my panties, but we have a long way to go, so I guess I’d better keep my eyes on the road ahead…for now, at least.

  I look across at Flynn as we ride, side-by-side, along the highway. He glances back at me with a huge grin on his face and it makes me giggle. He looks so happy, sitting high on his Thunderbird, his shades on, and I’m sure he’s thinking the same as me. There’s no feeling like riding a motorcycle with the wind in your hair, the rumble of your bike below you, and a long, straight road ahead. It feels great to be alive.

  And as good as that feeling is, it fades into comparison when the man you love—and who loves you back—is riding home alongside you. Ah, home. What an inviting and lovely thought after everything that’s happened these past weeks. Home to L.A., home to familiarity, home to dear friends…and a new beginning with my man. Neither of us regret for a minute the paths we chose, and I still can’t believe we’ve met again after all these years

 

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