Chapter 9
NICOLETTA
I gasp, and Bolt cocks his head, a deadly sneer covering his face.
“I don’t wanna hear any bullshit excuses, or worse, telling me some fuckin’ lies.”
“You don’t understand,” I murmur.
“Nah, babe, I understand it real clear. You already admitted you tagged me that first night, although you did leave out the part where you planted the murder weapon on me.”
“It wasn’t like that.” My words sound weak, even to my ears.
Bolt’s lips twist into a smirk. “So, humor me, tell me what it was like. Tell me how you thought you could set me up . . .” He slaps his palms against the bricks only inches from my head, leans in, and shouts, “With the fuckin’ murder weapon.”
I shudder, seeing and hearing the outlaw loud and clear. “Let me explain.”
“Ahh, no, babe, you had plenty of chances to explain, but you didn’t.”
“I tried a few times, but . . .”
“But what? You were too busy letting me get you off? I’m sure Bradley never fucked you as good as me, but afterwards, when you were lying in my bed, you could’ve spit out the truth.”
“I did try earlier, then the Harlots showed up and—”
Bolt takes a beat, then, “That’s what you wanted to tell me?”
“Yes, then when you asked me about it at The Tropics, I decided to wait until after your fight.”
For a few seconds, I thought I convinced him. Until—
He shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter.”
“I understand you’re mad, but—”
“Mad? Mad doesn’t even cover it. You fuckin’ played me now for days. Not to mention the first night when you literally planted a murder weapon on me.”
“But that was before I knew you. I was desperate and—”
“Save it, babe, ain’t gonna work.” Bolt shakes his head. “One of the first nights you were here, Smoke suspected you planted the knife in my apartment, but I told him no. I said, there was no way you killed that fucker, Brad, but I guess Smoke was right all along.”
“No, no, I didn’t kill Brad.”
“Yet you got the murder weapon.” He holds the knife in front of my face. “Little too late for that, babe.”
“No, you don’t understand.”
“You keep saying that, when I’m seeing all this shit clearly for the first time.” Bolt huffs out a breath. “Gotta say, you did a good job. You really had me believing you, really thinking . . .”
“That goes both ways.” I narrow my eyes. “Maybe you wanna explain that little show with Gina after your fight.”
“The bitch is hot for me.” He shrugs. “Just giving her what she wants.”
“I see.” My heart thuds hard against my ribs. Whatever I thought we had never was, or has died with my deception. Either way, Bolt is lost to me.
“Nah, you really don’t.” Bolt drops his hands to his side. “But this shit ends now.” He grips my forearm. Not enough to hurt, just enough to let me know I’m the enemy. “You got some explaining to do.”
He jerks me away from the brick wall, his grip tight and controlled, fingers firm. For a split second, it all becomes clear. This man is an outlaw, a criminal, and no matter how good he is in bed, right now, right here, I’m in danger.
My self-defense training flickers to life seconds before my brain catches up. My eyes drop to his hand. The pressure point. The gap where his large palm circles my arm.
I move toward him, not away. Closing the gap, I diminish his leverage.
His eyes narrow, confused.
I step closer, until we’re almost flush together. Shortening the distance instead of fighting it. A heartbeat later, I twist my forearm sharply, rotate toward the weak point of his grip, and angle my wrist toward his thumb.
Twist.
Lift.
Drop.
Bolt’s hold tightens instinctively, but it’s too late. My arm slips free, and in the same motion, I pivot to the side, off his centerline, and turn so I’m no longer in front of him.
Bolt’s wide, shocked eyes tell me he never expected me to fight back, or to run away, and I use those few seconds to my advantage.
I spin around and blindly dart into the crush of people leaving the arena. I bob and weave around them, staying low, moving with the wave of bodies heading for the street.
I dodge in and out and around groups of people, making sure I move quickly, efficiently, without drawing attention to myself.
When I glimpse the narrow alley between the gym and the garage, I make a beeline for the dark passage that empties out onto one of the busiest streets in Tijuana.
From there, I’ll hide out in one of the many crowded clubs until I figure out my next move.
Bolt is just another man who underestimated me, but that will never happen again. Not in this lifetime.
Disappearing into the alley, I keep running until I view the busy street at the other end. I check over my shoulder, and when I see no one following me I slow my pace, catch my breath, then step out onto the busy street.
“You’ve made it very easy for us, Nicoletta,” a soft voice screams in my ear.
I pivot into a tailored black suit and an unwavering expression.
Over the suit’s shoulder, a black SUV idles by the curb. Someone crowds behind me, effortlessly dragging me back into the alley.
Both men tower over me, out-sizing me in both weight and strength. Unlike my escape from Bolt, these men expect me to run, and they’re prepared. They separate their suit jackets just enough for me to see the guns holstered beneath. A silent warning I have no chance of defying.
“Wasn’t sure if it was you at first.” The taller one’s eyes rake over me. “Not the way your father described you.”
The shorter one licks his lower lip, and I automatically wrap my arm around my bare midriff.
“Great disguise, but your father’s grown tired of your antics, and it’s past time for you to return home.”
“You can’t keep me silent forever,” I bluster even though I know it’s an empty threat.
“You can’t believe your father and his associates would let you and that band of outlaws ruin it.”
“I don’t believe my father and Brad would be involved in something like this.” I spit out the lie, trying anything to keep them talking. Stalling for a chance to break free.
The taller man huffs out a cruel laugh. “That wiseass Brad would still be alive if he didn’t get greedy.”
My stomach rolls and twists, hearing the same words from his mouth that Smoke said earlier.
“That was the main reason your old man wanted you with Brad. He figured it would be easier to keep an eye on him. Keep everything nice and neat, but Brad even managed to fuck that up too.”
The shorter guy shakes his head. “Yeah, screwing you and your mother at the same time wasn’t smart on his part.”
“You’re lying,” I cry out with a touch of hysteria that’s not altogether fake.
“Between that and Brad’s wiseass mouth, your father was done with him.”
“I don’t believe any of this.” I search over their shoulders. There has to be a way out of this situation.
“Quit with the bullshit, and let’s get this done.” The taller guy shifts his feet. “The sooner we get the info we need about those bikers, the sooner we can get rid of her—then them.”
His words chill me from the inside out, and I don’t doubt for a minute they would shoot me without a second thought.
“I just wanted her to know what an annoying prick her boyfriend was.” The shorter guy grins. “Then when your old lady showed up, it was the perfect setup—until you entered the picture.”
“Stop!” I moan, pressing my palms to my face, then I stumble into the shorter guy. I grab onto the labels of his suit jacket, pretending to right myself, then twist, digging the combat boots into the cracked concrete, ready to dart around them.
“Fuck!” The taller guy is on me in three steps. He reaches out, wraps his arm around my waist, easily lifting me off the ground, then he slams my back to the alley wall.
He leans in, eyes wild and wide. “No more bullshit, you’re coming with us, and then you’re gonna lead us to those bikers.”
BOLT
“What the fuck do you mean, she got away from you?” Smoke waves his hand over me. “You’re at least seven inches taller than her and outweigh her by a hundred pounds.”
“I wasn’t expecting her to run.” My defense is weak, but it’s all I’ve got.
“Right,” Diesel throws his leg over the saddle of his bike, “‘cause she’s proved to be so honest this far.”
I shoot Diesel a deadly look, then glance back at Smoke. “She’s on foot. She couldn’t have gotten far.”
“Except she seems pretty good at this running thing. Or did you forget how she got here the first time you met her?”
“All right, I get it, I screwed up.” I throw my leg over the seat of my Harley, then wait for Smoke’s next words.
“I want her found before she spills to the father how much we know about his operation.”
The rest of the brothers mount up, and Smoke zeroes in on me. “You gonna be able to do this?”
“Of course.”
“You never claimed her, so she ain’t your property, which means no special treatment if shit gets deep.”
“I told her we don’t rough up women and children. Has that changed?” I dare Smoke to answer me.
“Nah, fucker, that ain’t changed, but that doesn’t mean I won’t take her down to the safe room in the basement of The Tropics and scare the living shit outta her.”
I nod once, but stay silent. My insides are in a knot, and I don’t fuckin’ get it. The woman planted a murder weapon on me, tried to frame me, then sucked and fucked my dick into submission, knowing all along she was playing me—and yet—I still don’t want anything to happen to her.
NICOLETTA
They grip my arms on either side, forcing me toward the entrance of the alley.
“I don’t think you wanna do that,” a voice comes out of the darkness.
Shadows fall deep over the dim alleyway. The sound of heavy boots crunching over the cracked concrete fills the small space.
My taller captor spins around, gun drawn. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”
“Let her go,” a dark, deep voice demands.
“You really don’t want to get involved in this tonight,” my captor threatens.
“You’re probably right, but I’ve never been one who makes safe decisions.” The voice moves closer to illuminate Smoke under the dim security light. He’s flanked by Bolt and Blood, all gripping guns aimed at my abductors and me.
“Now, drop that fuckin’ gun, or I’ll show you what a good shot I am,” Smoke threatens.
My captor can obviously see he’s outnumbered, so he lays the gun at his feet. When he straightens, he shoves me into his partner, who whips his arm around my waist, tugging me close. A second later, the cold steel of his gun is pressed against my temple.
“You either let us walk out of here with her, or I pull the trigger.”
My legs weaken, and he grips me tighter until breathing is almost impossible.
Smoke shakes his head. “Not smart.”
“This bitch means nothing to you,” the guy presses the gun harder.
“You’re right.” Smoke lowers his gun, and my heart skips a beat.
“Yeah.” Blood does the same. “Fuckin’ bitch is nothing but a lying cunt anyway.”
Smoke and Blood nod in agreement.
Bolt casually shrugs, lowering his gun a few inches too. “Guess I can get anyone to suck my dick.”
My captor laughs, loosens his grip, pulls the gun away from my head, and a milli-second later, a sharp, cracking sound echoes through the alley.
A high-pitched whine pierces my ears, then my captor’s arms go slack as he falls to my feet, blood seeping from his forehead.
The heavy scent of sulfur fills the small space, along with a ringing reverberation.
The other guy attempts to retrieve his gun off the ground, but Blood delivers a roundhouse kick to his head, and he collapses alongside his companion.
Smoke shoves me to Bolt, who rushes me down the other end of the alley as the rest of the Royal Bastards charge past us.
We don’t stop until we reach his bike parked on the far side of the gym.
He swings his leg over the seat, grips my forearm, pulls me on behind him, and a minute later, we’re speeding toward the street.
I wrap my arms around a man who just shot another man to keep me safe.
Or so he can take me back to his clubhouse to torture me himself.
The huge machine vibrates between my thighs, and I vacillate between pure erotic elation and paralyzing fear.
It’s not every day I have an outlaw biker’s bullet whiz past my head, and two seconds later, my abductor’s bloody body collapses to my feet.
When did my perfectly boring, scheduled, organized life become a matter of life and death?
My life and/or my death. Not really sure which, but right now, my brain is short-circuiting, and I have no choice but to hold on tight and enjoy the ride.
Especially since it may be my last experience on earth.