Chapter 30 #2
Howler drags Morozov back from me and shoves him onto his knees. Rage boots him in the side and I fucking smirk at how much it winds him.
I cut an unsteady glance over my shoulder to see Morozov’s men are on their knees, the Manchester chapter of the Sons holding them at gunpoint.
Terror is staring into the eyes of the big one who booted me in the face and he looks like he’s going to shit his pants.
Can’t blame him for that. Manchester’s SAA is fucking terrifying, even when you know him.
Brewer is whistling a kids nursery tune which is freaky as fuck.
Mace is suddenly in front of me. That coldness in his eyes is gone. “Fuck, Nicky.”
He hasn’t called me that for a while now and it hits deep in my stomach.
“Keeley?”
“I’m here.” She slides around Mace’s big body, her hands still tied.
She looks like a dream and a nightmare rolled into one. She shouldn’t be here, not bound like this.
I watch her pause in front of me, a hundred different emotions rippling over her face, but her bottom lip wobbles. “We need to get him down.”
“Sunshine, what are you…”
Her bound hands lift, reaching for my face, but she stops herself. “I wasn’t sitting at home while you were kidnapped, Nic.”
Fuck. This woman…
Diesel pulls his knife and cuts her ropes. My head is swimming. The drugs, the fear, the relief making everything feel warped.
My body floating as I stare at her. “Baby, I’m so fucking happy to see you, but you shouldn’t have come.”
Her hands cup my face and everything but her fades to the background. Her touch is so light, so gentle, and it still hurts, but I don’t make a sound. I don’t want her to stop touching me. “You would’ve come for me.”
“I would have died for you, but you don’t do that for me.”
Her eyes roll. “Okay well, that’s changing.”
“That a rule?”
“Yeah,” she laughs, but it’s brittle. “You’re really beat up.”
“I’m okay, sunshine.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
I inch forward as much as I can on the chains and brush my lips to hers. This is a kiss born of pure relief.
She’s safe.
I’m alive.
My club, my brothers, they came for me.
I claim her mouth like I thought I’d never get this again.
Starved and desperate for her. I don’t care that my mouth is twice the size it should be, or that my lip stings with every pull of the cut there.
There’s nothing careful about it. It’s raw and needy, especially since I can’t touch her how I want with my hands bound over my head.
Her fingers thread through my hair, shaking, and her breath stutters against my lips. This freaked her out as much as it did me.
When I pull back, she’s a little dazed, her eyes scanning my face like she’s noting every mark on my skin.
Mace moves into my line of sight. “We’re gonna lower you down.”
The chain slackens slightly, and then starts to lower. My shoulders scream in protest as my arms are brought down over my head.
Then my brothers are there. Diesel holds me from behind while Riot and Mace lift me off the hook.
My body turns to water the moment I’m free. I slump forward. Keeley tries to catch me, even though my weight is far too much for her.
The guys don’t let her take it. They ease me down to the ground. Keeley’s eyes are wet, and she’s blinking at me as if she thinks I’m going to disappear.
“You’re so hurt.”
“I’m breathing. That’s all that matters.” I glance at Mace and give him a look that says we’re going to talk about why my woman is here.
He shifts his shoulders. “I tried. She was comin’ no matter what. Figured better to have her with us than runnin’ around on her own.”
“I threw a tantrum,” she admits. “They had no choice but to bring me.”
“The ropes?”
“My idea.”
Fuck. She’s something else. I press my forehead to hers, gathering her into me like I’ll die if I don’t. My arms are trembling as the blood rushes back in, but I don’t care. I just hold her against me and she hugs me tight.
“Three,” she murmurs into my neck.
“What?”
“The kiss we just had. It got to number three.”
Her fucking rating chart. I snort a laugh that gets stuck somewhere in my throat. “Sunshine, if a near-death kiss ain’t hittin’ number one, then I don’t know what could possibly top that.”
She smiles. “You’ll have to find out, won’t you?”
“What are we doing with him?” Blackjack gestures over his shoulder at Morozov. He has Terror’s boot in his back, face down on the concrete.
Anger bubbles in my veins, something dark and ugly twisting my gut. This man is a danger to the only woman I’ve ever loved. He doesn’t get to walk out of here.
“Take Keeley outside.”
Her fingers twitch around me. “I’m not leaving you.”
I meet her gaze. She’s soft and mine. I don’t want her to see the monster I have to be sometimes.
“Be right behind you,” I promise. “I just need to deal with this first.” I kiss her temple, letting my lips linger there for longer than I should. “Outside, sunshine, please.”
She looks like she wants to argue with me, and I’m not sure if it’s the please or the way I look broken that does it.
“You’ve got five minutes. If you’re not out in that time, I’m coming looking for you. Don’t think I won’t.”
Riot presses his lips together to hold back his grin, and Mace folds his arms over his chest and suddenly becomes interested in his boots.
She lets Dash lead her outside with Brewer. Before she is through the door, she shoots me a final glance that says more than words ever fucking could.
As soon as she’s gone, Mace and Howler help me to my feet. Manchester’s President is watching me like he thinks I’m going to fold. Not now. Not with Morozov in my hands.
“You okay?” he asks me.
I clutch his bicep. “Thank you, brother.”
Howler nods. “Anytime. You know that.”
I do, because my club will always have my back. It always has. Through all the shit with Crank—before that even with the Pioneers. They’ve always come when we needed them, just as we do for them.
So I let them help me straighten, even though my legs tremble and my arms feel so weak I don’t know how I’m going to do this.
I walk over to where Morozov is under Terror’s knee. Diesel standing behind them, tapping his thigh.
“Get him on his knees,” I rasp.
Terror and Diesel drag him up. Morozov fights—of course he does. Even a corner dog will fight to survive. But even thrashing in their hold he’s no match for them.
His eyes dart around, frightened suddenly.
“I can get you anything.” He says this to Terror, who stares down at him, unimpressed.
There’s nothing he can give any man in this room.
“You still haven’t learnt the most important lesson, have you?” I’m standing over him, looming. He peers up at me, then looks to his men. “Money can’t buy what I have.”
A ripple of desperation claws over Morozov’s face. He turns to his men who are on their knees, Manchester’s boys keeping them there. “Fucking kill them.”
No one moves. They can’t. There are too many kuttes, too many ways to die if they try.
“You useless sacks of shit,” Morozov snarls, surging off his knees toward them like a rabid animal.
Terror drags him back and slams him back onto the floor.
I turn to the mercs. “He played you. Demetri is broke.”
They all talk over each other, pissed. I’m half tempted to let them at him, but I want this kill. Need it.
For what he did to me. To Keeley. To my club.
There’s a beat of silence. Sweat beads on the top of Morozov’s lip as he glances between his men and mine. “Phoenix, just think about this—”
“I’ve thought. It’s all I’ve thought about.” I laugh, but there’s no warmth in it. “You should never have come at the Sons.”
I step behind him and wrap the chains still tethering my wrists together around his neck.
Then I pull back as hard as I can, my shoulders and arms trembling. Terror and Diesel hold his arms when he tries to grab the chains and I lean all my weight behind it, listening to the choking sound he’s making.
I’m not strong enough to finish it. He’s rattling, but not dying. Fuck.
Mace steps up behind me, and grabs one end of the chain. His eyes meet mine. “I got you.”
My chest is heavy as I nod, and together, we pull back.
I listen to every single one of those sounds Morozov makes as we choke his last breaths out of him.
I don’t stop pulling until he slumps into the chains, nearly pulling me and Mace off our feet.
I don’t watch as my brothers kill his mercs. I just stare at Morozov’s boneless body slumped on the concrete.
The relief that floods me, knowing he’s gone, is dizzying.
“See if he’s got a phone,” I say to Riot.
“Why do I always have to search the dead bodies,” he mutters, but crouches down in front of him. There’s one last thread to tie up and the answer will be in this phone. By the end of today, Keeley’s buyer will be dead too.
Mace steps in front of me, his eyes searching mine. “You good?”
I stare at him. “Don’t ever do that again,” I warn. “I don’t care what she says to you or how convincin’ she is, you don’t let my old lady walk into danger like this.”
Riot snorts. “You think he let her do anything? Your woman is a fuckin’ force.”
My woman. Yeah. That’s exactly what she is. Mine.
Diesel pats my shoulder. “She likes you.” He pauses. “I don’t know why.”
Riot follows him as they walk to the door. “We need to work on your delivery.”
Mace slings an arm around my back, his shoulder going under my armpit. Blackjack takes the other side.
“What a fucking day.”
He’s not wrong. “I don’t know about you fuckers,” I lean on my brothers, letting them hold up my weight, “but I could really use a holiday.”
“Thanks to Morozov, we can go wherever you want,” Riot quips over his shoulder. “Italy. Greece. Aruba.”
“Where the fuck is Aruba?” Dash asks.
They argue about locations while I concentrate on putting one foot in front of other. Mace never lets me stumble, not even a step.
When we get outside, the Manchester boys peel off to head home, but I’m already looking for her. My woman.
Keeley fucking West.
Sunshine.
Mine.
Her face softens the moment she sees me and she climbs out of the car, moving toward me like it’s the only place she needs to be.
That’s what this life is about.
Brotherhood, loyalty, and her.
That’s it. That’s everything worth fighting for.