Courageous (Rock Bottom #3)
Page 13
The next afternoon, as me and Ryker are dropping the girls off at the strip club where Bender and Rook wait inside the dark building, I’m still not convinced it’s the right way to go about this problem.
Andie takes my face in her hands. “Stop scowling,” she whispers. “If this goes down the way we hope, he’s watching us right now.”
I kiss her hard, then press my forehead against hers. “Don’t do anything stupid. I have big plans for you, lil’ mouse.”
Watching the women file into the building, skipping and giggling like nothing’s wrong, stirs a strong sense of déjà vu that riles me up all over again. Feels too much like the night I found Andie getting beat on outside the clubhouse. I beat the dashboard, shouting every obscenity known to man.
“Calm the fuck down,” Ryker scolds as he’s pulling back onto the highway. “Most of the Martyrs are in jail. No matter what goes down, that asshole will be outnumbered.”
We’re a few miles down the road when I snarl, “Take a fuckin’ right here.”
Ryker grips the van’s steering wheel. “Why?”
“Because too many things could go wrong with this half-assed plan. I’m jumping that prick before he gets inside the building. So hurry the hell up before I have to knock your ass out and drive this beast myself.”
Grumbling, he makes a sharp right and speeds down the alley behind the mom-and-pop businesses. Considering it’s still bright, we’re taking a chance that someone might call the cops to report the maniac tearing through the neighborhood, but Ryker doesn’t slow any. He knows as much as I do that it’s a life or death situation.
With the van parked behind a building across from the strip club, it doesn’t take long to spot Diesel sitting in a piece of shit car a block away. Heat shoots through my veins, eager to choke the life from his worthless body the way he tried to do to me in California. But with my left arm being worthless, I’ll have to go with Plan B—the untraceable gun stuffed in the back of my jeans that Bender stole from a drug smuggler a couple years back. Pretty sure he was intending on using it on Fisher one day, to avenge Trask’s death.
“Must be waiting for it to get dark,” Ryker decides.
“I’ll wrestle him into the backseat, then you drive us outta here.”
His eyes dart to my bum arm. “Sure you’re up for that?”
I pull the gun out, dropping one in the chamber. “Hell yeah.”
Fifteen minutes later, Ryker pulls alongside the bank of the Mississippi River south of the metro. There’s not another soul to be seen. Once I drag Diesel out of the backseat, he comes back around for the first time since I knocked him out. He didn’t put up much of a fight after I flung the door open and cold-cocked his pathetic ass. Wish I could take a picture of the terrified look on his face once his backside connects with the ground.
“The fuck you think you’re gonna do to me?” he asks, eyes wild.
I aim the gun at his head. “Pay you back for all the shit you put Andie through.” I kick him in the side, savoring the crunch of his ribs beneath my boot, and his agonizing cries that follow. “Did it make you feel like a man knowing someone like her was forced to be with you? You do realize there’s no way in hell she would’ve willingly given a coward like you a second glance, right?”
My boot connects with his ribs again and again until he’s howling, begging me to stop.
Ryker stands behind me, nudging my shoulder. “Sure this is how you want to do this?”
“Worthless piece of shit deserves to be hung up by his ballsack, and left to rot.” There’s no other way this can go down. There’s a chance her old man will weasel his way out of doing hard time, and I won’t let Diesel do the same. It’ll never end. He’ll always come looking for her, and she’ll never know what it’s like to live peacefully. And I’m not letting my girl put up with that shit.
Only regret I have is that Andie isn’t alongside me, watching him suffer.
From a fetal position on the ground, Diesel grits his teeth. “Fuck you. Every time you stick your dick in that bitch—”
I pull the trigger. Again and again until he’s pumped full of bullet holes, and covered in blood.
A rush of satisfaction soothes my anger when witnessing his last intake of breath.
He’ll never hurt Andie again.
As I’m kicking his worthless corpse toward the river and tossing the gun in behind him, I hear Ryker talking to one of the girls on his cell. “It’s over.”
Epilogue
STONE
Once I’ve strummed the final chord of the last song, and the crowd screams for another damn encore, I look up to find Andie’s gaze blazing through me from the front row. Always seems to turn her on to watch me play, even if it’s just during practice sessions. Her bottom lip disappears into her mouth, and she slips a hand inside her tiny shirt, cupping a breast in invitation. My dick lurches in my jeans, begging me to fuck her right this second.
My girl turned a new leaf in recent weeks, becoming even more daring and confident than before. Last weekend, she surprised me as I was getting out of my car outside our new place, and slipped onto my lap. Almost lost my shit when she guided my hand beneath her dress, showing me she wasn’t wearing underwear. And she was so damn wet. She’s always ready for me, no matter the time or place.
But she’s also grown in other ways. She testified at her old man’s trial like a champ, looking him in the eye as she explained in detail the club’s illegal transactions over the years. The defense attorney tried to throw her testimony out by claiming she’d murdered her own mother, but the judge was quick to shut him down when he couldn’t provide any evidence.
They put another warrant out for Diesel in Minnesota, but the cops and feds decided he must’ve gone deep into hiding. Andie gave them a great show, pretending she was terrified that he’d find her first.
Whenever she’s not at our new little house in Richfield or working with Brooke at the women’s shelter, she’s usually at Sasha’s apartment right off campus. She doesn’t tell me much of what goes on while she’s there, but she always comes back to me with a smile, and that’s all that fuckin’ matters. Hardly remember the first days we were together, when she barely smiled about anything.
Every day I find something new to love about my woman, more reasons to want to brand her as mine, erasing the bullshit memories she has of being with Diesel. Seeing her touch herself makes me wanna drag her off to a dark corner and make her scream my name until she can no longer stand upright. But the diamond in my pocket has been digging into my thigh all damn night, reminding me to stay focused on my original plan.
Backstage, only a few minutes pass before we’re greeted by our women. Andie jumps right into my arms, covering her mouth with mine. I grip her little body tight, hardly noticing when my back slams into the hallway’s brick wall. She sucks and bites everything she can, her tongue thrashing like a fucking animal.
“Goddamn you two are insatiable!” Bender yells after us. “Do that shit somewhere else!”
Breaking away, I glance over my shoulder at the guys. “See you assholes tomorrow.”
“Remember, bonehead, we’re meeting Harley and Colt for brunch!” Ryker cackles behind us. “Don’t make us send a search party after you two!”
“Wouldn’t dream of it!” Andie calls to him from over my shoulder.
Making friends with the California crew seems to have been therapeutic for Andie, because she’s always eager to ride with them when we’re out this way. Guess she’ll always enjoy riding because it’s the only thing she knew as a kid, even if it’s attached to shitty memories. Works for me, because having her curled up to my back, arms around my waist while I’m driving her around the country, has become the best foreplay.
She climbs onto my Fat Boy in the underground parking garage, buckling her helmet in place while giving me a sultry little grin. “You guys were great tonight. California chicks seem to love you even more than those in the Midwest—you should’ve heard them screaming b
eside me when you played your solo.” Planting her hands between her legs on the seat, she licks her lips. “I hope you know of a place we can make a pit-stop, because there’s no way I can make it all the way back to the hotel after watching you rock out up on that stage.”
Having a world-famous supermodel perched on my bike wouldn’t beat the sight of my girl waiting for me. I climb on ahead of her, grunting with the rush of heat that fills my balls. “Don’t make me take you here and now.” I glance over my shoulder to the team of security guards. “Not when I have bigger plans.”
As the engine roars to life, she wraps her arms around me and giggles. Never figured I’d be the type of man to want a fairy tale ending with a woman. Then again, I wouldn’t be the man I am if Andie hadn’t turned my life on its head.
ANDIE
Nothing compares to gliding along the highway on the back of Stone’s bike, warm wind in my hair as I cling to his hard body. The experience of riding with him couldn’t be any different from what it was like with Diesel. This man would walk to the ends of the earth, and even put his freedom in jeopardy to protect me. It’s allowed me to finally sleep soundly every night after years of worrying I’d be dragged out of bed in the middle of the night, or forced to do something out of my control. As long as Stone’s in my life, I have no reason to be afraid of anything.
Although we haven’t really talked much about an actual wedding since Stone brought up the idea of marriage, we’re already committed to each other in every way possible. Besides, I’m not the type to want a big fancy ceremony, even though Stone once assured me we could afford whatever my heart desires. He’s already made me the happiest woman alive simply by wanting to be my husband in a traditional way that has nothing to do with biker culture and the mindset of claiming “an old lady.” Words like “love” and “cherish” weren’t anything I’d ever heard out of my father or Diesel’s mouths. Even if they’d uttered them, they wouldn’t mean the same as when coming from Stone.
Adjusting to life outside of the compound was easy with Stone and his crew already treating me like family. While I’m doing whatever necessary to strengthen my relationship with Sasha, I’ve also developed a true sisterhood with Zoe, Brooke, Raven, and Charlize. They’re every bit as brave and bold as Stone and the other guys in the band, making me wish I’d known them years ago so I would’ve had the strength to leave the compound earlier.
Working at the women’s shelter messed with my head for the first few weeks. I’d meet with battered women who had stories too similar to my own. Then Brooke suggested I meet with the in-house counselor. After a few sessions, it became empowering to know I was helping women who have walked in my shoes. I’m even toying with the idea of going to community college so I can work toward some sort of degree that would enable me to help them on a deeper level.
After In Disarray’s headliner concert, it’s late as we head out of San Diego, and the adrenaline from watching Stone perform has burned off. I’m admittedly a little sleepy by the time we pull into a hidden cove. The reflection of a bright light on the ocean casts the most stunning array of colors from orange and purple to various shades of blue. The band has been performing in venues across the country for two weeks straight, and I’m looking forward to having a little down time with Colt and Harley over the weekend.
Stone kills the engine and climbs off, turning to offer his hand. “Come on, lil’ mouse.”
I take his hand and he pulls me close for a sultry kiss before leading me toward a slope. Right when we get to the edge, he hoists me over his shoulder.
Squealing, I clutch his thick arm from my upside-down position. “What are you doing?
He grunts while starting down the side of the rocky hill. “Not letting you climb down in those shoes.”
“Always so damn chivalrous,” I grumble, even though I secretly love every minute.
At the bottom of the hill, he carefully sets me down in the sand, then kneels in front of me to unbuckle my strappy heels. Tears spring to my eyes as he lifts my feet out of the shoes one at a time to deposit my bare feet in the sand, and a princess-type complex takes over. I never dreamed I’d find someone as adoring as Stone who would love me this way.
Instead of standing, he lifts one leg to a bent knee position, and pulls something from his pocket. A large diamond sparkles between his fingers. “This moment is long overdue. I figured since you don’t want a wedding, it would mean more if it was just the two of us making a commitment to each other anyway.” Glancing up into my watering eyes, he gives me the kind of sexy grin that always makes my stomach quiver. “Never thought I’d understand the kind of happiness that Ryker and Rook have with their women. Never even cared about that kind of shit until you came along. Something about you…your willingness to stand up and not take any bullshit…sometimes I think you were put on this earth just for me, because there isn’t any other woman who gets me like you do, or brings out the desire to settle down and start a family.”
“Are you saying I somehow tamed the untamable?” I tease. Lowering down to my knees, I take his face in my hands. “You always act like I somehow rescued you, but you’re the one who literally swooped in, and saved me from my biggest nightmare. I can’t stand the thought of where I’d be right now if I hadn’t met you that night.”
“We can file the paperwork and whatever bullshit the courthouse needs as soon as we get home so it’s official.” He slips the ring onto my finger, voice cracking when he adds, “Just say you’ll be mine. I need to hear the words.”
“I’m already yours, Stone.” With tears in my eyes, I lean in to brush my lips over his before whispering, “I’d be honored to become your wife.”
Amidst the gentle roar of waves beside us, we seal the deal with a toe-curling kiss. Ever since the moment I found my baby brother’s lifeless body in that bathtub, I never once dreamed I’d love another human unconditionally like this again. For years I’ve pictured a long, empty life full of darkness. I never imagined I’d be planning to start a family with a man as noble as Camden Stone.
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ALSO BY JENNIFER ANN
KENDALL FAMILY SERIES
Brooklyn Rockstar
Midwest Fighter
Manhattan Millionaire
Oceanside Marine
Kendall Family Christmas
Miami Bodyguard
American Farmer
ROCK BOTTOM (ROCKSTAR) SERIES
Outrageous
Notorious
Courageous
Ferocious
STANDALONE ROMANTIC SUSPENSE
The Secrets Between Us
Broken Little Melodies
FALLEN HEROES DUETS
Saving Phoebe
Saving Alexa
NYC LOVE SERIES
Adam’s List
Kelly’s Quest
Chloe’s Dream
MC ROMANCE SERIALS
Inferno Glory MC (first installment FREE)
Jawa’s Angels MC
Keep reading for a preview of Ferocious, the final book in the Rock Bottom series!
Her brother’s senseless murder made her hungry for justice. Wielding a badge and gun seemed like a logical start.
He’s determined to bring down the man who destroyed everything. When the law can’t help, he’s ready to take matters into his own hands.
In Sasha Green’s first assignment as a detective, her job is to infiltrate the heavy metal band Blood Hands. She couldn’t be any more stoked: having grown up with her brother’s band, it’s the role she was born to play. But she wasn’t expecting to enjoy being part of a band more than her job protecting the city, or to empathize with the wrong side of the law.
As far as Trent Risotto is conc
erned, his band is no place for a woman, especially one as seemingly innocent as the blonde drummer who nails her audition. Although he’s unable to resist her sexy charm, his darkness would ruin someone like her.
She can’t afford to fall for the prime suspect.
He can’t afford any distractions that could get him killed.
ONE
Sasha
Nightmares of my big brother’s murder continue to haunt me over a decade after his death. Sometimes I think it’s survivor’s guilt. Other times, I wonder if it’s Trask’s way of ensuring I don’t forget him. Like I ever could.
Although I wasn’t there to see it happen, his best friend’s account of how it went down is a grisly scene that will forever be etched in my brain.
He wears that hideous orange jumper.
A large man stabs him in the throat.
Blood’s everywhere.
Trask falls.
My brother—my world—takes his final breath.
I awake with a start, bolting upright. Sweat beads across my forehead and beneath my breasts. In the distance, a siren wails. Dogs volley in deep, demanding barks. Neon numbers beside me flash 4:10—at least a good hour off since the last storm.
The stale air in our cramped apartment and every deep shadow take on a sinister vibe, as if I’m being watched. My hackles rise as I reach for my .45 tucked away in my nightstand drawer. Sometimes just knowing it’s near sets me at ease. But as my fingers graze over the cool steel, my belly refuses to unclench. Nights like this, I wish I had a dog—a big one to rip the throats out of any intruders.