Chapter 32
NOELLE
I’d burst through the warehouse door like the hounds of hell were on my heels.
They might as well be.
Cold air slapped my face, but it couldn’t cool the fire of shame burning in my chest.
My ruined shirt flapped open, and I clutched my coat tighter, the fabric doing nothing to shield me from the devastation behind me.
Stupid.
I’d been so stupid.
How could I have been so fucking stupid?
I’d forgotten about the damned wire the moment Rafe’s lips touched mine.
The moment I realized my men were saints masquerading as sinners.
They gave stolen toys to kids at Christmas, for fuck’s sake.
Maybe not the best way to go about it, but still.
I couldn’t fault their giant hearts.
They were the good guys, and I’d ruined everything.
Heavy footsteps pounded behind me, echoing off the warehouse walls.
“Noelle!” Ash’s voice cut through the night.
A raw, unnamable energy stretched between us.
Was it hurt or anger?
Not knowing pushed me faster.
I didn’t dare stop.
My feet hit the pavement so fast my thighs burned.
My lungs ached.
I ran like my fucking life depended on it.
Maybe it did.
I’d seen what Rafe was capable of when someone crossed him.
I’d read the reports of how the Steel Vipers treated their enemies.
And I’d just made myself Public Enemy Number One.
They might be cinnamon rolls underneath all their leather and menace, but I’d lost the upper hand by betraying them.
“Fuck.” I wheezed the word in a harsh rasp when my freezing feet slowed against my will. I wasn’t built for running.
That had always been obvious, but I hated myself a little bit for not being able to get myself to safety after obliterating my cover.
Tiny puffs of air clouded my vision.
I couldn’t catch my breath and the burning intensified.
Ash stopped calling my name, and the sound of motorcycles roaring to life behind me caused my heart to slam even harder into my ribs.
Shit.
I might keel over from exertion before I reached my fucking vehicle.
Why had I parked so far away?
They were coming for me.
Ready to wrap up a loose end before the police arrived?
I was the police.
The thought didn’t help calm my nerves as I reached the gate and tried to duck through the same narrow opening.
They wouldn’t really hurt me… would they?
My coat snagged on a rough wire.
The fabric held tight, yanking me to a stop.
Engines revved, and I risked a look over my shoulder while trying to yank my coat free from the gate.
The betrayal on Rafe’s face created a gaping wound in my chest.
Well, there went my hope.
I wasn’t ready to take a risk on his emotions calming enough for a conversation.
Not when I was alone in the middle of the night with no weapon and no backup coming to save my sorry ass.
The irony wasn’t lost on me.
For the first time since this whole clusterfuck began, I actually needed Captain Delaney’s cavalry.
They were probably back at the station, laughing as they ran a commentary on my epic screwup and hasty retreat.
I yanked hard on my coat.
The fabric tore, sending me sprawling on the asphalt and putting the gate between me and the three men who’d become my entire world.
The streetlights cast eerie shadows that danced and twisted in a macabre rendition of the guilt eating away at my insides.
A stitch of pain curled me into the fetal position.
I didn’t have time for this.
I forced my palms onto the icy ground and worked my way onto my hands and knees as I gasped for breath that somehow refused to fill my lungs.
The sound of engines faded.
They must be having to go around to another exit.
Or they’d decided to leave me alone.
Which did I want more?
I wasn’t safe.
They might be circling around to cut me off.
Screwed.
I was so screwed.
And not in the way I preferred.
How the hell did my mind still turn sexual even when I was in the deepest throes of danger?
I pushed my way to my feet and stumbled forward.
My vision blurred as tears of anger, disappointment, and fear skated down my frozen cheeks.
The weight of what I’d done, what I’d lost, threatened to press me into the ground and leave me there.
I’d found something real, something beautiful even if it was terrifying… and perfect. I’d ruined it.
Fuck.
The rumble of motorcycles jerked my head around.
Different engines.
Lower.
Aggressive.
I couldn’t explain why the hair lifted on the back of my neck until three bikes rounded the corner and my blood turned to ice.
Headlights cut through the dark and landed on me.
Not the Vipers.
Not my men.
The rival club Rafe had warned me about, the same ones I ran into at the bar, screamed toward me.
Red and black leather vests covered every chest.
Run.
I tried.
My legs wobbled, and the pain in my side intensified.
I put a hand over my ribs and took a step, then another.
My toe caught in a crack on the road and I almost fell on my face.
Bikes circled me, and the hungry grins on the men’s faces put a new fear in my heart.
They stopped and cut off the bikes, the group of them holding me there in the center of their gang.
“Well, well, well.” The leader scratched his scraggly beard and swung his leg over the bike.
He set his hands on his hips and talked toward me. “Look what we found, boys. It’s the reporter, all alone and looking mighty vulnerable.”
Two more bikers flanked him, their movements predatory and coordinated.
My throat closed up, and I took a step backward even though I knew it was pointless.
The smell of the men behind me sent my mind reeling.
I dug a hand into my coat pocket, praying I’d remembered my pepper spray.
Empty.
Because of fucking course I’d left it in my car.
“We heard you’re real cozy with those Steel Viper boys.” The leader continued prowling toward me.
His voice dropped to a rough rasp as he looked me up and down. “Saw the article you wrote up about them, trying to make them all sweet and innocent.”
How the fuck had he seen something that wasn’t real?
I’d written an article, sure, but it wasn’t supposed to go any further than that.
Had Captain Delaney set something up with the newspaper office to make me look legit?
I had no words to answer.
My throat was too dry from all the running and wheezing.
Even if I had come up with a snappy comeback, I didn’t have the breath for a delivery.
I saved every ounce of strength.
I might not be able to fight them off, but fuck all if I didn’t try.
My lungs released their panicked hold on air, and I took my first real breath since I saw the betrayal on Rafe’s face.
Plausible deniability. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
My voice sounded like broken glass, and I winced.
He laughed. “Sure you don’t, sweetheart. Tell you what. You’re gonna write a real nice piece for us about how the Vipers are nothing but two-bit thugs and drug runners. Make it real convincing and maybe we won’t have to get creative with our persuasion methods.”
One of his cronies cracked his knuckles and gave me a lascivious look. “I vote for creative. I’ll even take first dibs.”
Panic clawed up my throat.
The hell with it.
My training kicked in—finally—and years of self-defense courses, hours on the range, and countless scenarios that had been drilled into my brain until they became muscle memory reminded me that I wasn’t helpless.
I might not have a gun, but I was far from demure and pliant in their games.
“Fuck you.” I snarled the words as I lunged.
My knee connected with the leader’s groin.
He doubled over with a howl of pain that brought a smile to my face.
Good.
Let him suffer.
“I hope I crushed your fucking balls so bad you’ll never get another erection.”
I spun and dove my elbow into the second man’s solar plexus.
He deserved a cock shot too, but he’d be expecting it.
He stumbled backward, clawing at his throat as his face purpled with the whoosh of breath that left him.
The third man grabbed for me, his meaty hands catching my coat.
I twisted out of his grip and slammed my palm into his nose.
It cracked with a satisfying crunch and tears sprang into his eyes before he yelped and covered his nose with both hands.
I made it three steps before someone grabbed my hair and yanked me back.
Pain exploded across my scalp, and I hit the pavement hard when he let go once I was overbalanced.
I landed hard on my ass and pain spiked up my tailbone.
Don’t stay down.
My instructor’s warning shot through me and I tried to leap to my feet.
A solid kick in the spine sent me sideways.
“You little bitch.” The leader wheezed in pain, still clutching his balls.
He’d managed to stay upright, and he aimed a kick at my exposed ribs. “You’re gonna pay for that.”
I curled inward to protect my organs as his foot came down.
A second man kicked me from behind.
Pain radiated through my torso and up my spine. I couldn’t move until they stopped.
Endure. Embrace the pain.
A third kick sent me spinning across the pavement.
Black danced at the edges of my vision.
“Enough.” The leader’s voice cut through the haze of pain. “We need her conscious.”
I rolled onto my back and tried to sit up.
My head and chest throbbed, but I was alive.
Three faces loomed over me, their expressions ranging from amused to psychotic.
My blurry vision darkened, and I blinked hard to focus.
Movement from the leader forced me to concentrate.
He reached behind his back.
Even someone without my training knew what that meant.
Gun.
I thought it a split second before he moved his hand back in front of him.
The sleek black pistol gleamed in the streetlights with a dull sheen.
Probably stolen.
Definitely untraceable.
I held up my hands and stood.
He’d already said they wouldn’t kill me.
But they could wound me.
That made any chance of escape more difficult.
“I think I’ve changed my mind.” The leader pointed the gun at my head. “You’re not worth the trouble. We can take care of the Vipers on our own.”
He leaned toward me, a wicked smile on his face. “Never trust a woman to do any job.”
The men around us snorted.
Well shit.
This was it, then.
This was how I died.
Not in a shootout with drug dealers or a high-speed chase but beaten and broken in some nameless alley because I’d fallen in love with the wrong men and made the wrong choices.
“Should have minded your own business, reporter.” His finger tightened on the trigger.
I braced, prepared to launch myself at him or to the side.
I might not be quick enough, but hell if I’d stand here and get shot without trying to live.
All the regrets from not trusting Rafe and the others gave me strength. I had to live long enough to tell them I was sorry.
I stared into his eyes, looking for that telltale widening that warned me of his intent to fire.
It came, and I dove.
A sharp crack split the night air with the power of thunder.
I was too slow.
A heavy weight crashed into my side.
Not the pain of a bullet—I knew that feeling after a bust gone wrong a few years ago—but something hard enough to once again push the air from my lungs.
Familiar arms tightened around my waist as I hit the ground.
Bishop.
My beautiful, protective Bishop, crumpled beside me.
Blood seeped from a wound in his chest, staining his shirt crimson.
He’d appeared out of nowhere and thrown himself between me and the bullet like he was my very own guardian angel in leather and denim.
“Bishop!” The scream tore from my throat.
My ears rang from the gunfire, but I still heard the sound of roaring engines screaming to a stop.
Rafe’s voice boomed over the resulting chaos.
Ash materialized beside me.
He took in the sight of me and Bishop, and his face twisted in rage.
He spun in a blur of motion and launched himself at the nearest man.
Gunshots echoed off the buildings.
Men shouted and cursed.
Motorcycles started and rubber squealed as the cowardly bastards tried to flee.
“Bishop.” I sat up and ran my hands over his body.
Single GSW to the chest.
Fuck.
The bloodstain spread even as I tried to cover it with my hands and apply pressure.
“We need an ambulance.”