Property of Rattler (Kings of Anarchy MC: Arizona #4)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

RATTLER

Hoping like fuck I can at least give her the time she needs to escape, I raid the weapons Tempest had sent with me, my mind more on her survival than on my own.

To get away, she’ll have to run like the hounds of hell are snapping at her heels.

As I know she’s previously completed half marathons, she should be more than capable of covering the distance, though the elevation and terrain will be against her here.

All I could do was pass on the instructions Bullseye had given me. Head north, keep going up until you reach the summit, then head down to where the road switchbacks around the mountain. The Kings will be waiting to pick you up.

It’s a hike that would challenge anyone. For the sake of my sanity, I have to remain confident she can do it, as long as I keep the enemy occupied and unable to follow.

The Kings are coming. Prez had assured me they were already saddling up. But even riding hell for leather, there’s no way they’ll get here before the attack. Until reinforcements arrive, it’s up to me to stand my ground.

Extracting a handgun and rifle, I check the sights and, when satisfied with the weapon I’ve chosen, pocket all the ammunition I can carry.

Awkwardly, I make my way up the ladder that leads to the upper floor of the cabin, the same injured ankle that had stopped me from running away with her, protesting every step.

I’m no trained sniper, but I’m a decent distance shooter.

Every second I can pin them down gives her more time to reach safety.

The chances of me surviving are slim to none, but that’s the price I’ll happily pay.

My only regret is that things between us ended on a misunderstanding.

She thought I’d been pushing her away when, for the first time in my life, I had the desire to do things right, to take our new romance slowly, to treat her with the respect she deserves.

I’d lost my chance to explain when Bullseye called to let me know Stone was heading our way and wasn’t alone. My role is to pin down however many there are and try to make him believe she’s hiding inside with me. Once he knows she’s not in the cabin, he’ll send whoever’s with him out hunting.

If she gets a good enough start, my money’s on her to beat any of his men up the mountain. She’s fast as I’ve already discovered to my cost. When she’s at the rendezvous point, the Kings will protect her.

The thought that I’m unlikely to see or hold her again tears me apart.

Me, Rattler, who swore he’d never get caught in the old lady trap, has now fallen hard.

But it was only she who could have tamed me.

I’ll regret to my last minute that she left thinking I didn’t care, when the truth is, only now, faced with death, can I admit our marriage was never fake. It was real.

I find a perch at the window looking out at the approach to the cabin and crack it open.

It doesn’t help that her scent lingers in the bedroom.

Breathing in deep, I draw in her perfume, filling my lungs, letting my imagination conjure up running my fingers through her soft hair.

The laughter, the fun, how our relationship had progressed from its rocky start to solid ground or would have if we’d been given the chance.

Ames. I breathe her name into the universe. Be safe. Be happy.

Bracing, I hear an engine. It’s not a motorcycle, but then I know it’s a foolish hope to think my club could have reached me so fast. My phone pings with the security system alert that the gate has been breached.

Not for the first time, I wonder how the fuck Stone had found the cabin.

He shouldn’t have been able to. We should have been safe.

The engine sounds grow louder, more than one, I now realise. I risk a glance out of the window. Fuck! There are three vehicles approaching. How many men does he think he needs to take on one woman and one man? Could I dare hope there’s only a driver in each of the cars?

Apparently not, as all doors open on the first vehicle. I waste no more time thinking, and start firing in rapid succession, taking all four men down, winged if not dead. But I can’t rest on my laurels. There’s more incoming, and this time they’re forewarned and more cautious.

The occupants in the other vehicles proceed carefully, this time using the doors as shields, preventing me from getting a clear shot.

I hear a voice shouting, but am too far away to make out the words.

Then, suddenly, four men split off, each running in a different direction.

I get one, shift my aim, but narrowly miss another.

The third bullet hits, but he doesn’t go down.

The fourth disappears around the side of the cabin. Fuck, Fuck, FUCK.

There’s still the third car. The occupants inside don’t seem in any hurry to get out.

I stay rock-steady, just waiting. Then, suddenly, both rear doors fly open, and I’m subjected to a burst of rapid gunfire that makes me launch myself back.

All the glass in the window has shattered, and I feel blood on my face.

I try to reposition myself, but that gunfire keeps coming, pinning me down.

For a moment, I wonder whether or not to abandon my position. I’m certain the cabin is now compromised. But there’s only that ladder up to the second floor, and I can still keep the upper hand by shooting any fucker who tries to ascend.

But that idea is blown to shit as the explosion behind me blasts a literal hole in my plan.

The concussion knocks me off my feet and throws me to the floor.

Through the swirling dust and splinters, I see the logs that had formed the rear wall have disappeared.

Shaking my head to get rid of the ringing in my ears, I inch over on my stomach and look out, falling back immediately, I see a gun aimed straight at me.

I roll, the bullet missing me by a fraction of an inch.

I grapple for the rifle, which I’d lost hold of in my fall.

What’s keeping you, Bullseye? Some help would come in fucking handy right now.

Noises from below tell me someone’s entered the cabin. Do I aim downward, out the window, or toward that fucking hole in the wall? The stomp of footsteps sounding on the ladder decides me, and I spin, aim, and take out the fucker who’s trying to ascend.

Yeah, come on, fuckers, you can’t get to me.

But abruptly a man appears from the hole they’d caused. I don’t have time to consider how they got there as I turn to shoot…

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Again, I do an abrupt one-eighty, my gun now aimed at another man who’s appeared at the top of the ladder.

Then, hearing a click, return my attention to the threat at the top of the breached wall.

Several thoughts rush through my head. I can take at least one more fucker with me.

I’m dead anyway, what does it matter? Or can I confuse them if they give me a chance to talk, convince them she was never here?

Pretty dumb, seeing as her possessions are strewn all over the bedroom.

But buying her time, yeah, alive that I can do. Dead? No chance.

Reluctantly, I lower my gun. The man who’s somehow climbed the wall rushes over to take it and doesn’t waste the chance to use his own weapon to pistol-whip me across the face. I take some satisfaction in spitting blood at him.

“Bring him down,” the man at the top of the stairs barks.

I feel a harsh punch to my back, and then I’m falling through the air, my already injured ankle the least of my worries.

I bump hard off the wall on the way down, landing headfirst. Stunned, with the breath startled out of me, I only have a chance to realise that, while I’ve survived, my reprieve is likely only momentary.

My limbs are immobilised as my wrists and ankles are clamped together. For good measure, they hogtie me.

At least I’m not dead. I take comfort in the only positive.

“Where is she?” is barked at me.

Awkwardly trying to roll to face the speaker, I recognise the family resemblance at once.

The same piercing blue eyes, which on him look ugly, but on her, pretty.

The curvature of the mouth, which on her is kissable.

On his? I’d punch it instead. The blond hair, his military short, hers wavy and long enough that I’d be able to wrap my hands around it while fucking her from behind—not that I ever got the chance, though perhaps that image is a last pleasant thought to take with me to my grave.

His question at last gets through my fucked-up and probably concussed head. My one assigned duty is to protect her. I stay quiet.

His kick to my ribs tries to hurry my answer.

Again, I spit out blood. “I’ve no fuckin’ idea. She left and went AWOL days ago.”

Kings, hurry the fuck up. Though I know it’s only a vain hope that they get here in time to rescue me. At least, if I can keep him talking, it will stop him from trying to search for her. Hopefully, by now, she’s far away.

It seems like I’ve been fighting this battle for hours, but I know in reality, only minutes have passed. Girl, get those running shoes moving.

My answer hasn’t satisfied him. Now I get a boot to my stomach, and again my breath is stolen. I try to roll over as I vomit, only to be kicked over again onto my back. Sick wells out of my mouth and covers my face, making me choke.

“I take it, you’re Flynn Ellington. I’d like to say it’s nice to meet my brother-in-law. But seeing as you fucked up my plans, I can’t.”

“Fuck you,” is all I can manage.

He chuckles. “You think I’m going to kill you?

Well, you’re right. But I know my sister.

She’s got a soft heart. And even if the marriage isn’t fucking real, and I truly doubt that it is.

I mean, what would she see in someone like you?

” I can’t contradict him. I’m the last person she’d willingly marry.

Yet she did. He continues, “She’ll not want to know you’re going to die in her place. ”

“Boss? We’ve got to get moving. There’s company coming.”

He only gives a slight raise of his chin in acknowledgment of his man’s warning, then is completely emotionless as he tells me, “I’m going to kill you, but not here, not now. I’ll be sending you back to my dear sister one body part at a time until she comes back to me. Which she will.”

“Fuck you.” I’m worried that he’s right. His sister does have a soft heart, and whatever bad terms we left on, she wouldn’t want me to suffer. Hopefully, my brothers will prevent her from sacrificing herself. Me? I’m not worth it. She could do far better.

“Get him in the car. We’re out of here.”

I’m roughly dragged out, only vaguely noticing they’re scooping up their injured, leaving the few I’d managed to kill where they fell as if they’re of no consequence. After what his sister had told me, I’m not even surprised. Kings would never leave a man behind, whether he was breathing or not.

Stone? He’s a monster.

I’m not brave. I’m fucking terrified. Me and pain don’t have a good relationship. But would I give her up to save my life? Fuck no. Whatever he does to me, I’ll stay quiet.

And now, when it’s too late, I realise I’d gotten it all wrong. I’m not incapable of love at all. Now I’ll never be able to tell her I’ve already fallen hard.