Outlaw’s Ink

by Sophia Gray

  “Ancestry website,” Stoudenmire said. He sounded quite proud of himself. “Ain't it funny the things Johnny Law won't think of? I got me one of them thirty-day free trials. Shit, maybe when I'm done with you two, I'll see if I've got any rich uncles worth hitting up. Anyway, I discovered that this codger was your only living relative. Finding his little hidey-hole was just a matter of asking the right questions and breaking the right necks.”

  Carter opened his mouth again, but Stoudenmire stopped him. “I can see you've got a whole passel of questions for me, but you're going to have to ask them while we're on our way to the cops, because frankly, the longer I keep standing in this heat, the crazier it's going to fucking make me. So let's go.”

  Carter's mind raced. After everything they'd been through, he couldn't believe it would all end now, out here in the desert with no chance of escape. He felt bad for Buzzard, but even more than that, he felt bad for Billie.

  He hadn't swept her away from her old life—she was about to be delivered back to it, probably in handcuffs. And Carter couldn't risk doing a damn thing about it, or Stoudenmire would open fire and Billie might be killed.

  Before Carter could move, there was a loud growl and a coyote darted out from behind the shed. Its jaws snapped as it lunged at Stoudenmire, sinking its claws into his chest and arm. Stoudenmire let out a high-pitched yelp and fell backward. He tried to shoot the creature, but the bullet went wild and a split-second later, its jaws closed around his throat.

  There was a sickening gurgle and Stoudenmire was still, his guns falling from his lifeless fingers.

  The coyote looked at Carter, licked the blood from its snout, howled, and bounded off into the desert without a look back.

  From that point forward, Carter never had anything bad to say about coyotes ever again.

  Chapter 38

  Carter

  Carter bent down to try to help Buzzard, but once he got a good look at the wound, he knew it was hopeless. His blood was pumping out too quickly, and every time he tried to breathe, there was a sucking sound in his chest.

  “I'm so fucking sorry, Buzzard,” Carter said, holding his hand. He could hear Billie crying next to him.

  “Ain't nothin' t'be sorry 'bout, kid,” Buzzard whispered. “Least I got a chance t'see you a little in my last few years. Take that money you brought me, okay? Spend it on this girl've your'n. Seems like she's worth it.”

  “She is,” Carter assured him.

  “Wish I could've introduced you to your pop,” Buzzard croaked, his lips shiny with blood. “My fault. Wasn't strong enough to save him. But I got them cocksuckers in the end, though. I...”

  The old man's last breath left his body and his head fell backward.

  Carter stood up and held Billie for several minutes. But he knew the longer they stayed, the more danger they were in. If Stoudenmire had found them here, there was no reason to believe others wouldn't too.

  They cranked the elevator down to grab the stacks of cash from the bathroom. Then they went back up, stepping over the bodies of Buzzard and Stoudenmire as they headed to the car they'd parked at the fence.

  They rode for a few hours in silence until they came to the Pot O' Gold Truck Stop near Del Rio, a town next to the Mexican border. Carter killed the Mercedes' engine and they walked in. As they did, he saw a waitress give them a funny look. His hackles went up for a second before he remembered what he looked like without his long hair and biker gear.

  She probably thinks we're a couple of yuppies who wandered into the wrong place for a burger, he thought.

  Hazmat and Oiler were sitting in a booth at the back. They were the only customers. When Hazmat saw them, his eyes widened in anger. Oiler looked sad and tired, but not surprised.

  “Hope you boys haven't been waiting too long,” Carter commented as he and Billie sat across from them.

  “Why the fuck is she still with you?” Hazmat snarled. “Jesus, what the hell's wrong with you?”

  “Nice to see you again too,” Billie said sourly.

  “Don't you crack wise at me, girlie,” Hazmat hissed, “or I'll kill you both right here.”

  “No you won't,” said Carter. “She's with me now. She's coming to Mexico with us. Believe me, she's useful to have around.”

  “Useful to have around?” Hazmat repeated, sneering. “What, has she got a solid gold twat or something? You must be out of your mind if you think we're gonna let you bring her along. She's already fucked things up for us enough. Besides, if you want some kinda fuck-doll to play with, there's about a million of 'em down in Mexico. You don't need to import one.”

  “This does seem like a weird idea, man,” Oiler pointed out. “Are you guys, like...in love now, or somethin'?”

  Carter looked at Billie and smiled.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I'm pretty sure we are.”

  Oiler thought about this for a moment, then grinned. “Yeah. Okay. I guess love can make you do some strange stuff sometimes. If she's sure she wants to come along and she ain't gonna slow us down none, that's fine with me.”

  “You're a bunch of fuckin' morons, all of you!” Hazmat exclaimed. “Suddenly we're in some kinda bullshit fairy tale where we can just whisk her away with us an' we'll all live happily ever after? Because unless you were plannin' on pimpin' her out when we get down there—”

  “I've had just about enough of that crap from you,” Carter growled. “She's coming with me. If you can't get with that program, we can divide up our shares and go our separate ways.”

  “Oh, we're goin' our separate ways,” Hazmat said dangerously. “But I'm not dividin' jack with you. Every bad fuckin' thing that's happened to us has been because of your bad leadership, so I'm keepin' what we got from the Cactus Hollow job, an' the other cash I've got too. You can call it a stupid tax.”

  Carter opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again. “Fine. If that's what it'll take to put an end to this—”

  Suddenly, they heard the warble of a police siren right outside, and blue lights flickered on the wall behind them.

  “Carter Winslow, Jack Thornvale, and Lane Scudder!” a voice called out through a bullhorn. “Come out with your hands in the air or we're coming in. You have one minute to comply.”

  “I knew that waitress was onto us,” Oiler moaned.

  “Fuck,” Hazmat spat, staring daggers at Carter and Billie. “This is all your fault, you piece of shit. You led them here. You, it's always been you, slowing us down and fucking us up and dragging this dumb cunt into it, you motherfucker, I'll kill you, I'll fucking kill you both—!”

  Hazmat grabbed a steak knife from the table and jumped at them, but before Carter could react, a gunshot split the air and half of Hazmat's head was blown off. He was dead before he hit the floor, and a thin ribbon of smoke drifted from the barrel of Oiler's gun.

  “That guy was a real dick, huh?” Oiler said, blinking the flecks of blood from his eyelashes.

  There was a commotion outside as the cops prepared to breach the truck stop. Oiler looked behind at the door, reaching into his pocket and sliding his keys across the table to them. “Go out the back,” he said. “My bike's parked out there. I'll hold them off.”

  “How?” Carter asked.

  Oiler smiled. He handed over his own saddlebag and the one that had belonged to Hazmat as well.

  “Just go,” he said. “And make sure my wife and kid get my share. Tell them I loved them. They won't believe it, maybe, but tell them anyway. Now go.”

  Carter and Billie grabbed the bags and headed for the kitchen just as cops burst in the front door. They heard Oiler's voice scream, “I'm not going back to prison, pigs! Come on and bring it!”

  Then there were gunshots, and the sound of Oiler's body hitting the floor.

  Carter burst out the back door with Billie right behind him. They found the motorcycle and climbed on, gunning the engine. The machine roared as they burned rubber, zooming out of the parking lot and down the highway as fast as they could. A few
moments later, they heard sirens again, and blue lights flashed in their rearview mirrors.

  The chase was on.

  Chapter 39

  Carter

  With Billie's arms tight around his waist, Carter pushed the bike as hard as he could, riding as though every devil in hell was on their heels. The cruisers behind them shrieked like a pack of banshees, and every minute seemed to bring the cops closer.

  They were riding so fast that Carter almost missed the turn onto the old road that led to the airstrip.

  “Are we going to make it?” Billie asked, raising her voice over the engine.

  “Goddamn right we will,” he said. He honestly didn't know whether they would or not, but he didn't want Billie to give up hope. Those police cars kept closing in, though.

  We have to make it, Carter thought grimly. For Buzzard. For Oiler. We fucking owe it to them.

  “In case we don't—” she began.

  “We will.”

  “Yeah, but just in case,” she continued, “I want you to know that I love you too.”

  The airstrip came into view ahead of them. Carter saw the plane waiting on the tarmac and the pilot lounging next to it in a folding chair. He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt and examining a centerfold in a porn magazine. When he saw the bike coming in with police cars behind it, he jumped to his feet, knocking the chair over.

  “What the fuck is this nonsense?” the pilot asked as Carter brought the bike to a stop next to the plane. “You brought cops?”

  “Never mind that,” Carter said. He and Billie hopped off the bike and ran toward the plane. “Just get us out of here, fast!”

  The pilot shook his head, following them up the ramp into the plane and shutting the door behind them. “All right, but this shit is gonna cost you big-time,” he muttered, climbing into the cockpit. “Leading the fucking cops here...I'm gonna have to arrange a whole new airstrip to land on before I get back...”

  “Just fly!” Billie yelled as the plane's engines started.

  “Cut the engine and get out of the plane now,” the bullhorn voice called outside. “If you don't, we'll have no choice but to open fire.”

  The plane started forward. Carter looked out the side window, white-knuckled with anxiety as the cops chased after it. A couple of them fired their guns at it, but the plane kept going—and a few moments later, it lifted off the ground and the gray airstrip was replaced by the clear blue sky.

  Carter looked down and saw that Billie was holding his hand. There were tears of relief in her eyes.

  “We made it,” she said.

  “Told you,” he replied, kissing her.

  Chapter 40

  Panzer

  A waitress from a truck stop near Del Rio had called the tip line a couple of hours ago, saying that two men who fit the descriptions of Hazmat and Oiler were sitting at one of her tables. This news had filled Harbaugh with obvious and savage delight, and Panzer's heart sank when Harbaugh contacted the local cops, telling them to stake the place out and wait for Carter and Billie to show up before slapping the cuffs on all of them.

  When they got the call that Carter and Billie had shown up, Harbaugh practically danced a jig as he ordered the cops to move in and take them.

  Then word came in about the high-speed chase Carter was leading them on.

  Now Harbaugh stood behind Panzer's desk, tense and wild-eyed as he spoke into the radio. “Del Rio PD, do you have them or not? Over.”

  Silence, except for the faint crackling of the radio.

  Harbaugh slammed his fist down on the desk. “Del Rio PD, answer me, goddamn it! Do you have Winslow and Rosewood in custody? Over.”

  Panzer waited breathlessly, his fists clenched so tightly that they hurt.

  More silence...and then a voice, saying sheepishly, “This is Del Rio PD. They, uh, they got to a plane and flew away.”

  Harbaugh balked, his face turning red. “Say again, Del Rio PD? What the fuck do you mean they flew away?”

  The radio crackled again. “They're gone. Over.”

  Harbaugh bellowed with rage, kicking Panzer's trash can across the room. Panzer tried to keep a straight face, but inwardly, he was celebrating.

  Good luck, Billie, he thought. Wherever life takes you, I hope you find happiness there.

  He cleared his throat. “Agent Harbaugh,” he said in his most official-sounding tone, “I believe I'd like my desk back, please.”

  Epilogue

  Billie

  One Year Later

  The golden Mexican sunlight glittered through the windows, and the waves of the Gulf crashed against the shore like a soothing lullaby. Carter and Billie had been living in the port of Tampico since they crossed the border, and the beautiful beaches and salty tang in the air suited Billie just fine.

  Now they were in bed and pressed against each other tightly, the bedclothes tangled around them as they made love. Carter's cock filled Billie up until she thought she might burst, and with every thrust, his thick shaft rubbed against her clit and sent sparks blazing and dancing through her. She loved the way their breath mingled on her lips, and the dizzying perfume of their combined sweat as it soaked the sheets beneath them.

  Carter was on top of her, one hand cradling her face as the other traced delicate patterns on her neck and breasts. She lifted her hips, desperate to feel every inch of him. She had never known such hunger for a man, and she knew that she never would again. Their bodies fit together perfectly, like two lost pieces of a puzzle that had gone unsolved for too long.

  “Never stop,” she whispered, biting his earlobe playfully.

  “I never will,” he answered, pushing even deeper inside of her. Moments later, they came together, their bodies writhing and pulsing in absolute harmony. They did their best to bite back the sounds of their passion so they wouldn't wake their baby in the next room.

  But even though they were as quiet as they could be, little Alden still stirred and started crying, interrupting their post-coital bliss for his afternoon feeding.

  She walked to the baby's room and took him out of his crib, wiping the tears from his chubby cheeks. He'd been born two months before. Even at this age, though, the resemblance to Carter, his father, and his grandfather was clear.

  The eyes, especially. The eyes couldn't lie.

  Carter joined her in the room, taking Alden from her. He walked the baby around the room in a circle, rocking him and singing to him gently. “As I was a-walkin' the streets of Laredo...as I was a-walkin' Laredo one day...I spied a young cowboy, wrapped in white linen...wrapped in white linen, and cold as the clay...”

  Alden stopped crying and looked up at Carter. Watching them together, Billie knew that the child would never spend a single day without knowing how much his father loved him, and that he'd always be there for him no matter what.

  He'd have what Carter never did. Her love for them both swelled in her heart until she thought she might burst.

  Plus, she knew that she could make love to Carter again later, once Alden had gone back to sleep.

  They had all the time in the world.

  THE END

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  Also by Sophia Gray

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  Outlaw’s Ride: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Vicious Thrills MC) (Outlaw Rogues Book 3)

  A ride on the outlaw got her pregnant.

  He’s a bearded, tatted, whiskey-drinking rogue.

  And he’s the only thing keeping me alive.

  If I want to keep my baby safe, I have to do one thing and one thing only:

  Whatever the hell he wants.

  BLADE

  I won’t apologize for what I do.

  I’m an outlaw bi
ker, not a f**king goody-two-shoes.

  I own a strip club – and it’s not the kind where you’re gonna find a bachelorette party acting like drunken fools.

  This is the kind of place where the women on stage are bare, ready, and willing – if you can pony up the cash.

  And of course, I always get my cut of the transaction.

  But I don’t touch any of the girls in my stable.

  Never get high on your own supply, isn’t that what they say?