Twenty-Four
My eyes watch him, unsure where he’s going with this. He has a silent conversation with my brother. And like the twin he is, Blaze sends me a knowing look. Even if I haven’t shared the sordid details, he knows about me and Taz. Blaze always knows. All the while, I’ve been analyzing the shit out of it, every word and touch. What I know and understand is that I’m not my mother; he is not my father, and it is okay to allow myself to feel something for another human being who isn’t my team or my family. I have spent the last two weeks thinking about him, dreaming about him, and wanting him. The worst thing that could happen is we don’t work. So, like I said the other night, motherfucking Yolo, this badass assassin, is taking a leap of faith onto a biker's cock.
I take a deep breath and try not to think about my sister Sin or the DNA I share with that ditzy bitch Princess. I want to be in this moment, at least try to be, even if Sin's hurt face keeps flashing in my mind.
Fuck.
Sin has always been good at keeping her emotions in check. She’s hot-headed, yes. But since coming here, she has been far more volatile. And I should have seen it coming. I should have recognized that this would bring back those feelings she tries to hide. Blaze and I should have seen she was hurting and talked to her. We were so stuck on our shit and feelings we didn’t notice our little sister was in pain, and we were assholes for not seeing it. Not understanding what this situation could do to her.
Taz pulls me to the center of the dance floor, and even though the song that’s playing is not slow by any means, It’s a bad bitch anthem. Girl on Fire, by Alicia Keys, plays as some ol’ ladies and club girls scream the lyrics while holding up their beers. Taz ignores the beat as he pulls me into him. I look up, his hands sliding from my shoulders and wrapping around my wrists as he pulls my arms up and wraps them around his neck. I chuckle at the smirk he gives me. This man is so beautiful, as much as I want to focus on him. My mind goes back to my sister. I can’t help it. I’m a multitasker on my best day, but all my focus is on her and if she will forgive me for my fuck up and lack of empathy.
Taz’s hand comes to my chin. “I know… You were in your head. You were so focused on your emotions that you forgot about hers.” Letting go of my chin, he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me closer. His soulful, deep chocolate eyes stare down at me. I swear my panties are going to disintegrate at any moment. The way this man looks at me... My breath leaves me as I feel his hard body against mine.
“You probably have never done that before…” My brow furrows, and he sees my question. “You never put yourself before your family… your team. You are always concerned with and about them. Their well-being, and their lives. You don’t stop to think about yourself or allow yourself to process. Everyone else comes first. Everyone else is more important than you. Well, my little tornado. Right now, you are the most important person in this room. Let me worry about you. Let me hold you and slow dance with you to this ridiculous-ass song.” We both chuckle and look around as the songs affect those around us. “Let me carry your burden for a little while.” he whispers in my ear and squeezes his arms around me more.
He isn’t wrong. I take on everything. It's my job, and they are my family; I can’t help it. But I know he isn’t wrong about needing someone to help me with the load that sometimes seems too heavy. I sigh and lean into him, resting my head on his chest as he sways with me in his arms, and his heartbeats lull me into a calm.
My body sings his praises, but my brain screams, pump the brakes hoe. And my heart, fuck, my heart is opening up to him after knowing him for mere hours. At twenty-eight years old, I am afraid, and not for the first time, I think about what my mother went through. I am strong-willed, but is my heart strong enough to handle heartbreak? I want to believe it is. But being that he will be my first relationship, I’m not one hundred percent confident in that fact. But I want to be. I need to be, because this fine-as-hell man will never want to let me go.
Why does he have to be so damn fine?
I know I keep saying it.
But sheesh… Why?
Pulling away from his chest, I look up at Taz. I know everything I’m talking about in my head will go out the window. I can feel my body responding to him, my heart rate speeding up. I remember what my mother said it felt like when she met the sperm donor. I venture to say this is it, the way my mind and body crave him. He is it whether or not I like it or am ready for what it means.
BOOM!!!
The building rattles under my feet, and I hear glass shattering. Instantly, I am tackled to the ground over what feels like a damn building. There is smoke… but I don’t see fire as much as I can see through the big fucker that has yet to get up. My eyes burn, and my nose gets itchy, and…
Are those rat fuckers using tear gas?
Son of a bitch.
I try to push myself but can’t. I try to shift again so I can get up and see who the fuck thought it was a good idea to ruin my fucking moment with my damn man.
Goddamned Taz. This big burly fucker is quick as shit. I can hear him shouting orders over me, and every time I shift, he pushes me down and keeps my head covered with his giant-ass man hands.
Damn men and their need to protect.
I continue to shift and wiggle, trying to get from under the weight of the sexy, hard-bodied biker, but he’s not having it. And I’m getting pissed. Why must men be so damn hell-bent on protecting women? I’m a motherfucking mercenary, an assassin, for fuck's sake. I don’t need fucking saving or shielding. Motherfuckers need to be saved and shielded from me. See, this is why… I let out a growl of frustration, and of course, the big fucker above me ignores me.
I swear there is a switch in every man's brain that flips whenever they perceive danger in the presence of the opposite sex. They all go into the I am man, must protect mode. Okay, I can’t be too mad. Because hot damn, this man's body is giving what it was supposed to give.
Fuck! Focus, Bellamy.
My body shifts so I can get my hands from under me. I need to assess. Sight, sound, smell and feel. I take a few breaths, closing my eyes. When I open my eyes and attempt to shift again to push myself from under Taz’s, he moves unrelentingly, stopping my attempt to escape the jail he has me in. This shit is cute and all, but this dude needs to get the fuck up off me.
Pushing his hands from around my head and attempting to yell out over his continuous barking of orders. I know it has only been mere moments since shit started going down. But that’s how it works in situations like this. It seems like hours when it has only been seconds or minutes.
“Taz,”
Nothing.
“Taz,”
Nothing again. Oh, you motherfucker.
Scream at the top of my lungs because I fucking loathe being ignored, “I swear, you big motherfucker, if you don’t get your big ass off me, I will reach down, grab your dick, yank it off, and feed it to you. I will make you a fucking eunuch and keep you because you are still so pretty…”
Lifted off the ground into Taz’s massive arms, he carries me bridal style towards the bar. All within seconds, and I’m so shocked at how quickly the fucker moves that I’m stunned silent. Hell, I just got the last word out of my mouth when he picked me up and was on the move.
Becoming angrier and angrier by the second, I try to get out of his hold, but He-man is not letting me go. And I know I could take him down, but then I don’t want to embarrass the manly man. He looks down at me with concern and softness in his eyes, but doesn’t speak to me. His head snaps back up as he takes long strides to wherever he thinks he’s taking me. He continues to bark out orders. I realize he is carrying me toward their safe room.
I remember from my research that they have one behind their bar. The gunfire seems far enough away that we’re not in immediate danger. I’m impressed at how quickly Taz and the club have responded. People's movements around us are methodical, as if they have done this many times before, which they probably have. I reach around my back and pull out my baby. Checking my mag and slide, I smile and hold her to my chest. It’s not ideal being carried around and killing, but I’ll make it work if I need to.
Finally able to have a three-sixty-view of the room, even through the dissipating smoke. I don’t see anyone from my team, which can be taken in one of two ways. Either way, this fucker needs to put me down so I can get to work. Although I’m pretty comfortable here. He smells so good and is so damn firm. Focus.
Many of the men of the club are doing precisely what Taz is. They are carrying women in our direction. And my eyes narrow on him.
Oh no, the fuck, he isn’t…
“Taz, I swear on everything I love. If you’re doing what I think you’re doing.” I growl. “I’ll rip off your ears and sew them to your nose. I will pluck all your testicular hairs out one by one and with tweezers, and I will…”
“FOR FUCKES SAKE, SHUT UP!”
My head snaps over Taz’s shoulder at the fucker that just yelled at me. At fucking me. My eyes narrow. I don’t know the fucker. I’ve only seen him in photos, but he wants to get maimed. I hear a growl from the big guy holding me. Lifting one of my hands, pointing two fingers to my eyes, and then signaling that I’m watching him. He scoffs and gives me a dirty look. Oh, so you want this smoke? I wonder if he is a vital club member. Probably not. I shift slightly in Taz’s arms and twist a little to get to the throwing stars I never really use, but keep on me because they’re cool.
I take one out of the pocket I had custom-made connected to my gun holster. I discreetly wrap my hand around Taz’s back, and with a flick of my wrist, I send the star sailing toward my target. Of course, I wasn’t trying to kill him. But a satisfied smile crosses my lips when he yells out and almost drops… fucking Princess. Oh, how I wish he would have dropped her on her ass. That would have made this moment so much better. He curses me out, and I peek over at Taz and lift a brow at him. My eyes trail from Taz back to the fucker. I watch as blood trickles down his cheek and drips from his ear. Bet the fucker will think twice before raising his motherfucking voice at me again.
Aww Ha! Fucker, I got you.
My head snaps back around, and as we reach some wall behind the bar, I look up at Taz and see anger and determination in his eyes. He is such a cutie pie. Focus. No way am I being locked away like a good little woman. No way in hell. Okay, maybe try a different tactic, because threatening bodily harm is the funniest shit to him. I know all about their safe rooms, which isn't for me. I am deathly allergic to running and hiding. No joke.
“Taz, schnookums. Do you realize my whole point here is to protect you? Not the other way around. I will need you to put me down so I can do my job and check on my team.” My eyes flutter.
“DAMN… IT… BELL… AMY, WH… ER… E THE FUC… K AR… YOU?” Blaze bellows in my earpiece that’s finally screeched to life with a high-pitched, screeching whine. But he keeps breaking up. Oh, he is going to be pissed if something fucks up his toys.
Oh shit. Not until this moment has my coms made a peep. Usually, when they are in use, you hear a low hum. It's annoying as fuck. But until now, I didn’t realize that I hadn’t heard it since I got to the clubhouse. Interesting.
I should probably answer him even though I know these people will think I'm a crazy lady talking to myself. Oh well. “I am currently being held hostage by the club's VP. I’m negotiating my release. This captor-o-mine drives a hard bargain. He also has a hard body. But since we are all in work mode, everybody checks in. Also, Blaze, WHAT THE FUCK?” I growl, irritated at the inconvenience of needing to kill people so soon. I at least wanted a few days.
He knows exactly what I’m talking about. He and I are going to have words later. Everyone checks in, although, like with Blaze, it's broken up. It’s all the confirmation I need and that they are all okay and kicking ass wherever they are. I need to get out of there. The gunshots I hear are a little closer than before. And my annoyance and frustration skyrocket.
“What do you mean, what the fuck? Someone blew up a bunch of fucking bikes and cars. That’s what the fuck. I swear something is wrong with you. They say Rocket is crazy, but I think differently.” Blaze rambles, and I hear every word now, so that’s good. I ignored the rest of the shit he said.
Taz stops at the door and allows all the men carrying women through. The men shuffle silently and efficiently, letting me know this is not new. Some women are blubbering like big babies, others are silently crying, and then there is her looking smug as she is being fawned over by a few club brothers. Ugh, such a bitch. It does not take four men to push a bitch down some stairs. But I digress.
“Taz, put me down NOW!” I sneer cause I’m done with this shit.
His eyes snap to mine, and he finally sees it. He takes a deep breath, squeezes me to him, and sets me on my feet.
“Sorry, habit.”
Taz says, scratching the back of his neck, trying to look remorseful but failing miserably. I can tell by the look in his eyes that he isn’t sorry. What the fuck is that sorry habit? Well, un-habit that shit, fucker.
“It’s cool. Follow me or do your thing; it doesn’t matter to me. I’ve been dying to get some killing in. It's been so damn boring. Anyway...” I smile at him manically as I recheck my sidearm and magazines, then bend and do the same with the one on my ankle. When I see the wide-eyed look on his face, I shrug. Yeah, my guy, a girl, comes prepared even when she looks like she's not.
“I also have cool knives that spring out of my boot,” I say with a chuckle and take off toward the main entrance, not waiting to see the look on his face or get a response.
I remember that Pain and Sin were outside. Blaze and Rocket were with me inside. I can guarantee the four of them are in the thick of shit. Just the way we like it.
“Rocket, Sin, Pain and Blaze Positions?”
“I’m up on the roof,” Sin says as I hear a few shots go off.
“I’m in the rover. As you probably figured out, the fuckers fucked with the com signals, and I was trying to figure out how the fuck they did it. And then where they did it so I can boom the shit out of them,” Blaze says.
Well… okay, then.
“Woo-hoo… die fuckers DIE!!!!” I hear Rocket screaming and not through the coms.
As I make it out of the clubhouse entrance. I take in the scene, ducking behind a car that isn’t engulfed in flames. Taking a peek around the bumper. It’s not as bad as I thought it would be. The gate has seen better days, and the bad guys seem pinned down behind three vehicles sitting on flat tires. They didn’t make it too far into the compound, and they’re not going much further with the club brothers firing on them. One fucker has a tear gas launcher, which is obviously what they used to release the tear gas through the windows of the clubhouse. Fuckers. I think about how I could get my hands on one of them. I don’t want them all dead. I need someone alive to confirm who the fuck sent them. I have my suspicions. Most of these fuckers will die on principle because they messed up my moment with my big sexy biker, and I’m pissed, so I am going to torcher the fuck out of someone if I don’t get some dick tonight. Focus.
“Pain?”
“Yep.”
“Sir, seriously? Position?”
“Oh yeah, sorry, I was busy.” I hear some shuffling over the coms.
“You should come down here. This place nearly rivals your torture chamber.”
Whiskey. Tango. Foxtrot?
“Pain cousin, where exactly are you?” I say in a sweet tone. Looking out from the vehicle, I let off a shot, and boo-ya bitches, right on target.
“Oh yeah. So, I grabbed two bad guys and took them to the club's basement. One of the club guys, the one they call Turbo, helped me out. Did you know that this place has an entrance right out front? And it blends right the fuck in. I’ve seen nothing like it. But did you know? Of course you did. You’re you and a little stalkery with this job.” I release an exasperated sigh at his rambling. “Anyway, I’m currently stringing them up. So you guys can kill the rest. These guys were giving the orders out there, so I figured you’d want to chat… P.S. They didn’t even come in with their guys. They just sat outside the gates, yelling at their crew. Such a disgrace. Who sends their people to do work they wouldn’t do themselves? Dead men, that’s who.” I hear shuffling and grunts. Yeah, the usually cool, calm, and collected Pain gets damn chatty when shit hits the fan. It's some funny shit.
“Okay then. Sin, numbers.”
The gunshot frequency is calming down, which means either most of them are dead or most of the clubs are. I need to know how many are left to eliminate.
“Six… Five… Wait… Two… Last one. Damn it, who in the fuck shot my last guy? Whoever did it, I’m fucking them up. That is all I can see. Some fuckers are playing cat and mouse and hiding in the shadows, so watch your back, sister.” Sin yells.
I hear chuckles over the coms; three, it wasn’tme coming through. We all know that unless Sin gets to zero, she is a pain in the ass and pouts for fucking days. Leave her to her weirdness.
She hid a few rifles when she broke into the place. She and Pain are lethal with those things. I’m no slouch, but even I can give props where props are due. Thank fuck. She was a sneaky kitty, as Pain likes to call her, and she put them on the roof.
I hear my name being bellowed out, and then reality hits me, and so does the pain in my leg. I raise my firearm at the shadowed figure standing twenty feet away from me and fire. The figure dodges, but I guarantee I clipped the fucker.
MotherfuckingCockSuckingSonOfARatFacedGoddamnBitchPigFucker.
Somebody is about to die. I-fucking-mmediately.