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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.”
