Earlier in the night, when she climbed on top of him and rode his cock, he decided she was more than his favorite fuck—he wanted Cara as a part of his life. Realization had slammed him in the face, and not having her in his life was not an option, but the biggest shock was he craved more than fucking with her. He wanted the whole damn package: conversations, laughing at stupid stuff, knowing she’d be in his room when he came back. As far back as he could remember, he’d never wanted to belong to any one woman—that shit was alien to him. In his life, he had belonged to two things: his troop and the Insurgents. He had never belonged to any woman.
After his mom left him in the hands of his monster dad, he swore off women except for fucking. But then he met Cara, and she did something to him no woman had ever been able to do—she made him care. His wildcat softened the edges of his hard, jagged heart and threatened to break the shell, stirring emotions deep in the caverns of his heart. In the beginning, he’d tried to stay away, but he couldn’t. Cara had already claimed his cock and was going for his heart, and he never saw it coming—him, of all people. Figuring he’d be the last one who would ever fall for a woman, the brothers looked at him in amusement, but she had him on her hook. Damn, look at Cara: her soft skin, her luscious body, her laugh, her sass. Fuck, I never stood a chance.
The riders started their descent into the canyon which housed the Nomads’ clubhouse, and all eyes were on Hawk as they waited for him to give the gesture to kill their motors and roll their Harleys. Stretching his arm, he signaled them to stop and cut their engines, which lent an eeriness to the night.
“Jax said four fucks drove the truck with the women. The brothers went to intercept them,” Ruben said.
“Good. Are there any women in the house?” He wanted to punish the Nomads, but he didn’t want innocent women hurt or killed.
“As far as we can tell, Viper keeps the women in the basement in separate rooms. There may be some in there,” Ruben answered.
“No one upstairs except the motherfuckers?” Hawk wanted to be sure.
“Don’t think so.”
“I want to air condition the house, but I don’t want anyone to be hurt except the fuckin’ Nomads,” Hawk said.
Air conditioning a rival’s clubhouse meant riddling it with bullets. The Insurgents strove to keep peace, but if someone crossed the line or disrespected them, they had no problem showing their strength.
Hawk nodded at several of the brothers, who took out their AKs and semi-automatics—two of the brothers carried a few grenades in case things went out of control. Armed and ready, the group was on stealth-mode as they approached their target.
A series of pops shattered the still night. Lights flicked on, illuminating the clubhouse and members as they screamed, “What the fuck?” Windows cracked under the assault while wood panels groaned when bullets bore deep into them. Inside the clubhouse, pandemonium broke out, and Nomads ran every which way. Some pulled out their pistols and shot into the inky blackness, but it was obvious the Nomads didn’t know what hit them.
Jax ran toward Hawk, who motioned Jax to come to the clearing to the right of the clubhouse where it was quieter. Jax said, “We intercepted the truck, and we’re going to drive it back to Pinewood Springs. What are we gonna do with the women?”
“Banger doesn’t want them anywhere near the clubhouse. Drop off the truck at the county line then text Doris. She’ll make the call to the officials and they can sort all this out. We don’t want too much involvement with them. You can take care of it, right?”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll take Chas with me. We’ll head out now,” Jax said.
Hawk nodded, and Jax took off through the forest of evergreens.
When Hawk came back to the Nomads’ clubhouse, the Insurgents were inside. Jumping up on the porch, his steel-capped boots crunched over the spent bullets. Inside, streaks of red were on the walls, and pools of blood stained the floors. Going to each downed Nomad, Hawk kicked them over, face-up, trying to find Viper. Not seeing him among the casualties, he went upstairs, weapon drawn, and kicked opened the closed doors. No one was there but a petite brunette chained to a bedpost; naked and crying, she bore the angry markings of a beating on her delicate skin. Staring through frightened, swollen eyes, she moved closer to the bedpost as if to make her body as small as possible. With each step Hawk took, the young woman flinched until she cried out when he bent down on his knees next to her.
“It’s okay. I’m not here to hurt you.”
As tears rolled down her face, she whimpered and winced when they fell onto her split lip.