Outlaw's Vow: Grizzlies MC Romance(188)

“All things are negotiable in this world, motherfucker. People change their minds. A few months ago, I'd have never believed I'd give up whores and drinking for something better. The name's Roman. I lived rough, lived to crucify sick motherfuckers in the worst ways possible. Now, all I wanna do is curl up with my wife and kid.”

“Then do it,” he whispered. “Go home. Finish me quickly. Spend your last few precious days with your family before the elites come for vengeance, for you and all your miserable brothers.”

Fucking. Asshole.

I looked up and saw Rabid smile. Then I slid the blade in hard, listening to the bastard howl, tearing through buttery cartilage. It wasn't enough to sever his ear, but it couldn't stay hanging off his head for long without some serious attention.

Moving to the other side of his head, I spoke slow, clearly. “It's not too late for you. We can reattach that worthless flap of skin and send you home missing nothing worse than a hand and a little pride. Just tell us how to make your boys cave. Throw us a goddamned fucking bone so we don't have to grind yours into dust.”

He swore, blubbered, spat such rapid fire curses I couldn't tell what language he spoke anymore. It went on for about a minute before he finally got control, sweating like a pig from the pain searing his brain. Blood pooled on his shoulder, running down his neck in rivulets from the severed ear.

“You tell them you'll hit them where they live! It's fucking obvious, is it not?” he sputtered, all he could manage before he closed his mouth again, chewing on the agony. More dark crimson stained his shoulder, almost in the same place where I'd taken a bullet.

Ironic.

“You mean in Mexico?”

He nodded. “I told you everything. You know about our ops across the border. Your President knows all about our bases in Baja, Sonora, Mexico City. You threaten them the same way we've done to you. You have to hit their homes, their families, their kids. Keep nothing off limits.”

I pulled away. Rabid looked a little pale.

Fuck. The asshole in the torture chair had a point. Of course, the club never went after civilians, American or otherwise, and we sure as fuck weren't gonna start.

But if these fucks had killed brothers, bombed clubhouses, even wiped out a few old ladies in SoCal...

They'd threatened my fucking family, and almost tore me away from them, leaving Sally and Caleb defenseless.

No, we'd never sink to their God forsaken depths, but we'd sure as shit pretend. The asshole whipped his head backward when I touched the blade to the opposite side of his head, threatening the good ear.

“We need more. You tell us the names and addresses of your cousins and uncles in the capital. We know you're royal blood, don. Shitty part is, you're also expendable, but they'll be singing a different tune if all the hydra's heads are threatened at once, yeah?”

“Yes. Yes. Anything.”

For the first time since I'd stepped in, I smiled, and drew the knife away. I looked at Rabid.

“Get somebody in here to sew his shit back on. We'll put him on standby for transport as soon as the Prez gets the info he's looking for, and verifies it. Something tells me the motherfuckers will answer us next time.”



I got the call when I was in town picking up some grub for dinner. The cartel blinked.

The boys were putting a hood over our don's head that second and getting him ready for a ride down to San Diego. The Nomads working down there would handle the rest as soon as we passed him off, and we'd all oversee the cartels withdrawal from our home state as soon as the ink was dry on the truce.

Thank Christ. Even better, my girl went out to try on dresses today, and she'd left me some texts about 'em being fucking hot.

I couldn't wait to get home. Neither could the hard-on hammering in my pants. My wound felt better by the hour. By the time we tied the knot in a couple weeks, I'd be good as new, ready for some serious horizontal gymnastics on our honeymoon.

She thought I'd already fucked her every way I knew how. And I was ready as hell to show her she was wrong. I'd be training her to come on my cock better than any woman ever had, until she pulled every last drop of seed from my balls.

I loaded a couple pizzas on my bike and took off for home, loving the crisp air blowing in my face. The house was quiet when I pulled up. Sally's car was in the driveway, and I didn't hear shit when I stepped inside.

Missy and Jackie wouldn't drop off the kid 'til later. That gave us a few hours to talk plans for the big day, feed our faces, maybe even pick up where we'd left off last night.

“Babe?” I called it twice when I got in, louder on the third time when I reached the staircase.

She wasn't a heavy sleeper. Something was fucked up in all this silence. The hair tingled on the back of my neck, and so did my hand, poised over the nine millimeter on my hip.