Risky and Wild(169)
I watch in openmouthed shock as Royal grabs the guy's arm and twists it, loosing the hammer enough that it falls and he picks it up, swinging it in a graceful arc that hits the bearded man right in the side of the temple. He stumbles and then collapses against the base of the redwood tree that we clipped, blood streaming down the side of his face.
“You alright, Pint-Size?” Royal asks, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths, his full lips parted as he pants and stares at me like he thought he'd never see me again.
“I'm fine,” I whisper and he nods once, bending down and grabbing the gun from the forest floor. Royal crouches low and moves to stand behind the open driver's side door, lifting the gun up and aiming it through the open window. Without a second of hesitation, he points it at the driver in the black pickup as the man tries to speed away, and pulls the trigger.
The truck swerves and skids, slamming into another tree while the guys that just climbed out of it struggle to find different cover. Royal keeps his eyes on them, pulling the trigger systemically and without restraint. He doesn't rain bullets on them, just watches and waits for the right moment.
That's the first time I realize exactly how dangerous he really is.
And the first time I realize that no matter how ridiculous it seems, how little time we've actually known each other, how strange a match we must make … that I'm in love with him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Royal
This is such a shit fest, I think as I take a small step back and lower my gun. But at least I got my girl. A quick glance over at Lyric and the rapid thumping pulse of my heart starts to slow. When I first heard her scream, something broke inside of me, something that I don't think I ever want fixed. A change came over me, made me realize that someday is today.
Don't know Lyric Rentz all that well. Don't give a bloody fuck. I want her and nobody's going to stop me from getting what I want, not Mile Wide, not the mayor and definitely not my own stupid bullshit. If things between us don't work out down the road then fine, but fuck. Just thinking about that phone call, how I almost didn't call her back, how I almost acted like a petty bitch. Big wake up call.
“The boys are en route,” Glacier says, a freakish smile stretched across his angelic face, blue eyes bright, the tattoos on his neck obscured by the dark spray of blood. “Ten minutes or less.”
“Good.” I toss my stolen gun onto the floor of the truck, my eyes sweeping across Lyric, dressed head to toe in leather, her green eyes wide and struggling to blink back surprise. There's some blood leaking from her nose, but otherwise she looks okay.
I turn and grab Lyric by the boots, pulling her body along the seat until she slides out of the truck and I pin her against it with my body. Her legs wrap around my waist reflexively while she threads her fingers behind my neck. I don't waste a single second, thrusting my tongue into her goddamn mouth and letting her know something I should've suspected since the first moment she caught my attention back at the clubhouse. Mine.
She lets me kiss her for a few seconds before her grip tightens and her body rocks against mine, feeling the hard, ready bulge in my jeans, tasting the desperation in my mouth.
Glacier makes a coughing sound behind me, but I ignore him. What's he going to tell the boys? That I kissed a sexy girl? Made her moan? That I know how to handle a woman like a fucking boss.
“You,” Lyric begins, trying to pull back enough to talk. I grind her harder against the side of the truck, tasting blood and wild things and that distant sweet scent of wildflowers. “You,” she begins again and this time I let her, pausing to set her down on the wet dirt. “You came for me.”
“The hell did you think I was going to do, Pint-Size? Of course I'd come. Nobody ever said Royal McBride would abandon a damsel in distress.”
“But … you were so angry,” she says, eyes flicking back to Glacier, brows raising. I see that little chill go down on her spine. Yup. She feels it, too. Total psychopath. “I mean, you had a right to be, but …” She pauses and runs her hands over her face while I curl an arm around her waist and tug her against me.
“Hey red coat,” Glacier says, moving around us and leaning against the truck, so I have to look at him. “I know you Brits aren't used to winning wars, but we got a situation here.”
“Fucking Yank piece of shit,” I growl, glancing up at the few boys that happened to be right there when I jumped on my bike and took off like a bat out of hell. The rest are on their way. “How's it looking, Smoky?”
“They're all dead,” he says, like he's disappointed. Would've been nice to have someone to talk to about this, dig up some more information. Clearly, Mile Wide isn't done with us. Good, because there's no way in hell they're walking away from this. Club justice is going to come down hard on these motherfuckers.