Outlaw's Vow: Grizzlies MC Romance(180)

Fuck. Just in time.

Beam stopped laughing and drew his wicked black eyes back on me. “You think you're hot shit, don't you? You walk around thinking you're a good man, a strong man, now that you've got your wife and kid. Let me tell you something, asshole.”

He pushed against my chest, as hard as he could. The lean little fuck was too weak to move me an inch, even with anger spiking his blood.

I cast a quick look at Blackjack. The Prez's face didn't show shit, but his eyes were fixed on the tiny smoke coiling in the distance too. He knew what was coming.

Beam kept talking, slinging the best shit talk he had. “You'll want to listen to this, fuckface. Listen good. I'm going to track down your hot blonde princess when we're through here. I'll find her, take her, and fuck her all I want. I'll take her in every hole, all fucking night, make her forget every last trace of you while she's howling on my cock. Then, when I've had my fill, I'll drive her well stretched ass to Mexico to be sold. She'll survive a year, maybe two in the game. But I'll give her a fighting chance, just for you, by fucking her 'til she hurts. I'll turn her into my whore, Roman. It's good practice once some of the cartel's friends get a hold of her.”

I snorted. “You done yet, Carlos?”

He shook his head. His jaw tightened, stretching his skin tight across his fucked up face. For a second, that shitty punk rock broomstick on his head looked like it was sitting on a skull.

“I'll do it all, you bastard. I swear I will. Every. Fucking. Word.” His head snapped back, and he flew forward, hurling spit in my face.

Slowly, I raised one hand, wiping my eye. “You're gonna have a hard time with my girl,” I said, sliding my other hand to my hip.

“Why's that, asshole?”

“She doesn't like dudes with ruptured balls and broken dicks.”

Two seconds. That was all I needed to make my move.

My knee shot up and smashed Beam's junk so hard I wasn't sure if he ever felt his nuts split like rotten eggs. My gun's barrel hit his temple too fast, and I pulled the trigger.

The Mexicans started screaming before he even hit the ground. I went down, holding onto his corpse like a shield, listening to my boys behind me start shooting.

My whole universe became screaming lead, kicking at the dusty pavement and flesh around me, each hot flash threatening to snuff out my life just as quickly as I'd done to the rat.

Brass roared, firing over my head. I angled my gun up as soon as I hit the ground, firing at every dark moving shape I could see. Several cartel boys ran forward, and their chests exploded outward, death blossoming in bloody vines.

Rabid and the prospects were here. The cavalry hit them from the back, slaughtering those motherfuckers like hogs.

Gold Teeth ducked between two vehicles, dropped his fancy looking magnum, clutching a bleeding wound on his leg. Bright red gore poured through his lily white trousers.

I emptied my clip and burst two more heads. It was too fucking dangerous to reload, especially with a bastard holding an automatic coming toward me, spraying down suppression fire.

The hellfire advanced, coming on like a line of advancing rain.

Inevitable. Outrageous. Fatal.

I thought about Sally's hot lips on mine as she was wrapped around me, thrusting like my life depended on it between her legs, snarling as I pushed her over the cliff into ecstasy.

I remembered Caleb's laugh, smiling as the bullets came closer, sparking on the cracked cement like firecrackers. It was like somebody slowed down time, just enough to let the things that mattered flash before my eyes.

I couldn't get my boy's cherub laugh outta my skull, even if it might as well have been on fucking Jupiter with death racing toward me here. I'd never hear it again. Not for real.

I thought about ma. She'd looked happier than she had for years holding my kid, bouncing him on one knee. Probably amazed that Sally and me created such a perfect miracle. She'd still have that after I was gone.

My brothers' faces flashed in my head, one by one, locked in perfect rhythm to the tracers coming toward me.

Blackjack. Brass. Rabid. Asphalt. Southpaw. Stryker.

So many fucking more. Too many faces, and not enough time. Never enough –

Fuck. Fire ripped through my side, and I felt like a goddamned water balloon losing its contents.

Two seconds later, the shooting stopped, but it didn't really matter. I saw myself sprawled out on the ground, passed the fuck out, my eyes dead and vacant.

I floated away from everything, and there were no brakes. I was already a ghost, even as some brother caught up to me and started shaking me, screaming in my ear. His words were like listening to a man screaming down a long tunnel.

They blurred into nonsense. I heard someone else talking, a voice I hadn't heard for nearly twenty years. The last words my old man ever said to me surged in the blackness like a giant tidal wave, pulling me deeper, crashing across my soul.