Extreme Curves (Dangerous Curves Book 7) (15 page)

“Jesus
Christ
,” Nails grated out, jerking Spider back and away painfully. “Let the
fuck
go, dick-sucker.”

“No!” Spider cried as Ace started to walk unforced and unassisted towards the van in the distance, close to the woods. “Ace!
Ace
!”

“Shut up,” Joker said to him viciously. “Shut up, or I’ll saw off his cock
first
thing, instead of
last
. You want that?”

Right away, Spider’s voice died in his throat. Of all the things that he’d thought these men would do,
that
hadn’t even crossed his mind, and suddenly all he saw were years and years of nightmares in front of him. Years and years of wondering what the man that he loved had gone through before finally being given the blessed release of death.

Spider fell to his knees now, watched as Ace climbed into the back of a black van calmly. Spider did nothing when the van started up, nothing when it pulled away, nothing when one by one, the MC members disappeared into the distance.

There was nothing he could do to stop any of it. It was over.

The man that he loved was walking to his death with dignity and courage, and all Spider could do was kneel in the snow and watch.

Watch and be proud of Ace.

In the sudden deafening silence, Spider looked up at the blue sky, just for a few seconds. That was when Tex began seizing, twisting and jerking in violent convulsions and spasms on the ground. Spider gathered his strength and went to him, noting that Honey was faintly stirring and opening her eyes, and that Jack seemed to be shot in the upper arm and nowhere else.

“Honey,” Spider said as he started compressions on Tex’s heaving chest. “Honey, call King.
Now
, Honey.”

She looked around and sat up, then swore fluently and impressively.

“Honey,
call King
.” Spider wiped the blood from Tex’s face, lowered his mouth to Tex’s. “Do it.”

She finally did, but already, they heard engines in the distance roaring closer, coming from the direction of the road. She crawled over to Jack and applied pressure to his shoulder, hard enough that he groaned and started to come to.

No, there was nothing at all to be done for Ace… but maybe nobody else had to die that day.

Spider would be damned if he didn’t at least
try
to stop anybody else from dying.

He wanted Ace to be proud of him too… even if Ace never knew.

**

“OK, asshole,” Nails growled from the front seat of the van. “It’s just us, so you can drop the forgiving and understanding act now.”

“No act to drop,” Ace said. “I meant everything that I said out there, because I really
do
get it. If I were in your position, I’d do the same, and I know it. You do what you need to do.”

“Fuck, man,” Nails said, greatly amused now. “You running for sainthood or something?”

“Saint Ace,” Joker sneered. “That’s what you’re after?”

Ace said nothing.

“Hey, Joker,” Nails said. “Know what I remember about most saints from my Catholic school days?”

“Nuh-uh,” Joker said. “What?”

“Well,” Nails said. “Most saints were disfigured in some way, or tortured, or they were missing limbs, or whatever the hell. The whole
point
of being a saint, see, is to
suffer
. To suffer way more than most people ever do, and to suffer in silence and with stoicism. So, the thing is, Joker… nobody can be a saint if they’ve got it easy.”

“You don’t say.”

“I
do
say.” Nails grinned at his VP. “Now, I do believe that I owe you a reward.”

“You do?” Joker said, perplexed. “For what?”

“For keeping the faith when I wasn’t really forthcoming about what I was up to. I know you were straining at the lead, man, and dying to mete out some vengeance. But you held on and held back, and you respected your President. So now you get a reward.”

“Which is?”

“What do you think?” Nails indicated at Ace. “You get to draw first blood.”

Joker’s breath hissed out. “When?”

“Right now.”

Without one second of hesitation, Joker said to Bear, who was sitting on Ace’s other side, and Cruz, who was in the back on a mattress. “Hold him down.”

The massive men shoved Ace down to the van floor, and he went, unresisting. Joker reached into his pocket and pulled out his beloved signature knife, flicked it open. This knife had slit the throats of six women for fun, and countless rivals for club honor.

Now it was going to make a painful point with Saint Ace.

Ace lay still, his arms and legs pinned down by Bear and Cruz. Joker knelt next to him, smiling widely.

“You know, Nails,” Joker said now. “I never went to Catholic school, and I don’t know much religious shit, but I
do
know one thing from the Bible.”

“Yeah?” Nails watched as the knife moved closer and closer to Ace’s pale face, lazily hovered over Ace’s left cheek. “What’s that?”

“An eye for an eye.”

And the knife glittered beautiful, sacrificial silver as it lowered, then plunged, then twisted.

Chapter Fourteen

“Please help him, King.” Spider’s eyes were wide with terror. “Please… please don’t just leave him to the MC. Even if you hate him, even if you think he’s pond scum, even if you think he deserves it…
please
don’t. Bring him back to me, and I’ll get us both out of Denver forever, I promise. You’ll never even need to
think
of Ace Cuddy again for the whole rest of your life. I swear it.”

“Spider,” King said patiently, for about the ninth time. “I’m not abandoning Ace. OK?”

“But…” Spider looked around the E.R., saw that every member of King’s Men was still there with them, since the guys from Dangerous Curves and Dallas Foreman’s team were guarding the women in a new, secure location. “But everyone’s
here
, King, or protecting the ladies. Nobody’s out looking for Ace.
Nobody
.”

“Liam,” King said, and the use of his real name commanded Spider’s full attention. “I am working on it. I promise you, I am.”

Just then, King’s eyes snapped to the door, and when he saw the dark-haired man in the long white coat, he moved towards him.

Doctor Sam Innis had seen the E.R. waiting room full of large, terrifying, scowling men and fierce, take-no-prisoners, kick-ass women before, of course. Denver had its fair share of MC members and ex-military types and ex-cons and skiing accidents and horse-related accidents, and he’d learned early on in his trauma specialization to ignore who these people were when they were outside the hospital, because when they were standing in it, they were
way
off their own turf, and they were lost and worried and out of control. They were on Sam’s turf – and he was the one with the information that they wanted.

That put him in a position of power; that also put him in the direct line of fire.

He walked into the room, and sure enough, a dozen people launched themselves at him. His dark eyes fell on one man, though, and he smiled in recognition.

“King, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Hey, doc.” King looked startled. “You remember me from that night we brought in Sarah Matthews?”

“I sure do,” Sam Innis said. “I wasn’t with you guys for long before Dr. Shane MacIntyre took over, but I kept an eye on Sarah’s case, met her Mom and brother.”

King nodded, relaxed a fraction. He knew that this guy was young – Dr. Innis was maybe all of thirty-two – but Mac had spoken of the guy in glowing terms. Sam Innis had been amazing with Annie, Sarah’s mother, and Noah, her autistic twin brother. If he was the one taking care of Tex, Honey, and Jack, then they were in excellent hands.

“How are they?” King said. “Especially Tex?”

“Let me start with the easy cases,” Sam said. “Ms. Potts and Mr. Taylor are fine, for people who have been shot. In Ms. Potts’ case, her kevlar stopped any major damage to her kidneys, though she
definitely
had the wind knocked out of her and she was thrown head-first into the vehicle, hard enough to render her unconscious. She’ll have significant bruising on her head, abdomen and ribs for about four weeks.”

Everyone nodded.

“Mr. Taylor wasn’t quite so lucky, since he
was
actually shot. The three bullets lodged in his left shoulder and upper arm, and had to be removed. He lost a massive amount of blood, and frankly, he was in more danger from
that
than any kind of internal damage. He’ll need time and physio, but he’ll make what I hope is a full recovery.”

Sam paused, removed his glasses.

“Now… Mr. Sinclair.”

The room fell silent.

“Is Tex bad?” Val asked. “Is he –”

“He’s not dead, ma’am, though he’s bad enough,” Sam said gravely. “I’ve put him in a medically-induced coma for now.”

“What?” Knox said. “
Why
?”

“Because of the trauma to his head. It’s safer.” Sam looked around at the tense shoulders, the intense eyes, slid his glasses back on. “Mr. Sinclair was shot in the face, and it’s nothing but a
miracle
that the bullet lodged in his cheekbone. It was also a miracle that when he went into shock and began to seize, Mr. Cuddy knew how to perform CPR correctly. That’s what saved Mr. Sinclair, for damn sure, and that’s why he’s got any chance to walk away from this at all.”

At the mention of Ace’s name, Spider gave a strangled sob. Despite King’s reassurances, he was beside himself with terror for Ace, and all he could think about was what was happening
right now
to the man that he loved. Whatever it was, it was brutal and monstrous and it was only just beginning.

“Hey, Spider, it's OK,” Val said gently, startling everyone with her rare show of kindness. Then again, she’d been quiet and withdrawn ever since arriving at the waiting room directly from finding Lilly’s body using the GPS tracker on Lilly’s car. Val hadn’t said much about it yet, but she had told King that Lilly had died holding a dead man’s hand – a man that Val assumed had meant something to Lilly. He’d meant so much, clearly, that she’d turned her back on her brothers- and sisters-in-arms, turned in a client to the enemy. Val had had to leave the two bodies there to be dealt with later, and a part of her had died at that; a hardness had been replaced by softness. “It's going to be fine.”

He nodded, then shook his head.

“Anyway,” Sam said. “I suggest that you all go now.” His eyes sharpened behind his glasses, and he met King’s burning gaze. “From what I’ve heard, you’re going to need to get ready for what’s coming.”

“Sorry?” King said, puzzled. “You’ve heard –”

“The person that you talked to an hour ago just called me,” Sam said. “Said that you asked him a huge favor.”

Realization dawned in King’s eyes. “You know him?”

“Very well. I’m his younger brother.”

“Of
course
,” King said, thinking of Sam’s last name. “God, I had no idea.”

Sam smiled. “Nobody really does.”

“So…” King said to him. “You heard back?”

“I did.”

“They said yes? Said they’d contact their man?”

“King,” Sam said quietly. “From what my brother just told me on the phone, they couldn’t say yes fast enough.”

King whistled. “Holy Lord. Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Uhhhh,” Tank said. “You wanna tell us what’s goin’ on, boss-man? It’s like a secret code between you and the
docteur
here.”

Just then, the elevator next to the waiting room pinged, and the doors slid open. Off stepped two large men, both wearing leather cuts and jeans and motorcycle boots. Everyone except King and Sam stared in shock as the men strode into the room, the devil insignias on their backs as large as life.

“Hey, King,” Wolf Connor, President of the Road Devils MC greeted him. “Sam.”

“Hi,” Sam responded, the nodded at the man behind Wolf with a teasing grin “Vic.”

Victor ‘Scars’ Innis rolled his eyes, but it was an affectionate gesture. Nobody called him ‘Vic’ but his kid brother, and as much as it annoyed him for everyone in the room to know his birth name, he’d take it off Sam. He thought the sun rose and set on his brother, so he got away with shit that nobody else could.

“Wolf? Scars?” Tank was stunned. “What –”

“Hey, Tank,” Wolf drawled. “Looking puny, man. You been skipping work-outs at the gym?”

“
Fermer-la-bouche
, Connor,” Tank growled good-naturedly, staring down at the other man from him immense height. “Or I’ll show you just how puny I am.”

“Uh-huh.” Wolf’s gray eyes met King’s. “Sorry about your people, Kingston.”

“They’re gonna be fine,” King said, hoping that he was right about Tex. “They’re tough as hell.”

Wolf nodded. “We did as you asked.”

“You called your man on the inside?”

“I did.”

“So you know where the Fallen Angels are?”

At his words, everything in the room stopped. Nobody breathed, blinked, moved.

“Oh, yeah.” Wolf narrowed his eyes. “We know where they went. Our man is with them, of course. It’s a command performance, ‘spending time’ with the ex-Prez.”

“Holy shit,” Spider said. “
Ace
…”

“Damn right,
Ace
,” Wolf said. “His former MC brothers are good and
pissed
at him, and everyone’s there, and from what our man says, everyone’s taking turns making sure that he knows just
how
pissed they are.”

Spider blanched, and King shot Wolf a warning look which he correctly intercepted and interpreted.

“Ah.” Wolf regarded Spider. “You’d be – you’re – ummm…”

“Ace’s boyfriend,” Spider spat at the words. “Yes.”

“Right.” Wolf looked a bit weirded out. “Still can’t believe it, man. Ace Cuddy has a boyfriend.”

“So you got a man on the inside of the Fallen Angels?” Tank asked, totally not believing it. “How long, Connor?”

“About a year,” Wolf said. “It’s come in handy more than once, I can tell you, even if he
does
cost a bomb to keep on our side. Hits my bottom line every month, I tell you.”

“Can we get to the important stuff?” Spider snapped. Normally he wouldn’t even
dream
of spitting and snapping at Wolf Connor, whose reputation was nothing but worrying, but Spider was beyond all of that. “
Where is Ace
? Tell me, so I can go get him!”

“Hold up there, grasshopper,” Knox said, earning him a withering look of death from Spider. “You’re not going anywhere
near
this clusterfuck.”

“No?”

“
No
,” King said. “You’re going with Knox to the safe house where Dallas and his team can keep an eye on you.”

“What? No!”

“
Yes
,” King said, his voice gravel. “And you
do
realize that by standing here and arguing with us, you’re wasting time? Time that we
could
be spending going to get your man?”

That
stopped Spider, stopped him dead. Yeah, he wanted to be there when the Men and these two MC thugs-who-may-actually-be-decent-guys found Ace – but in his heart, Spider knew that he was a liability. Someone was going to have to take care of him and keep him whole and in one piece, and it’s not like he even knew how to take the safety off a gun, wherever the hell the safety
was
. He couldn’t help, he couldn’t take part… so he had to step down.

“Goddammit,” he muttered. “OK. Go. Just go.”

Everyone nodded, headed as one for the stairs, Wolf pulling out his cell to call his man inside the Fallen Angels to give him a heads-up that shit was going down. King paused.

“You come straight back here after,” he said to Knox. “Wait for news about Tex and Honey and Jack.”

“Gotcha,” Knox said, feigning nonchalance despite nothing but deep anxiety for his friends and colleagues. “See you after the dust settles, man.”

King nodded, stared hard at Spider. “I
will
get to him, Liam… I can’t promise you that he’ll be OK – but I
will
bring him back to you.”

Spider’s eyes filled with tears. “I know. Just – just do what you can.” He gulped. “I know that it may already be too late.”

“It’s not,” King said gently, thinking that there was
no way
that the Fallen Angels were going to rush this; they wanted their pound of flesh, and they were going to take it, over and over. Not that he was breaking his neck to share that with
this
man. “He’s alive. Ace is
alive
. You hang onto that, you let Naomi and Sarah and Mirrie and all the others help you through this, alright? You just hang in there, and you keep breathing. I’ll go get him. I promise you.”

Spider wiped his eyes, watched King stride out of the room. He turned to Knox.

“King’s sure that he’s alive because they’re going to make him suffer, right? They’re going to drag it out, make him pay, take their time. Right?”

Knox ran a hand over his head, feeling the stubble there, wishing that he didn’t have to tell the truth. “Yes.”

“Shit.”

“I know,” Knox said, hating every single thing about this fucking disaster. “Now let’s go… we need to get you to the new safe location.”

“I know.” Spider stared at his hands, still unable to believe that Ace had been literally ripped from them just a few hours earlier. “Let’s go… I’ll wait until King brings Ace to me. I know that I’ll be getting him back, though I don’t know if I’ll be planning the rest of our lives together – or a funeral.”

**

King burst out onto the street in front of the hospital, and almost walked smack into Scars.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Just had a few things to finish up upstairs.”

Everyone nodded, alert and waiting for their instructions. They all imagined that they were going in shooting and all shock and awe, but with King, you never really knew what the plan of attack was. It was possible that he was going to be more slow and subtle, though seeing as Ace was quite probably half-dead already, that wasn’t the smartest way to go.

“What’s the move, King?” Val asked him. “Hot or cold?”

King looked around at his team, at the group of people that he trusted more than anyone else on the planet to have his back when the shit hit the fan. He took a deep breath.

“These assholes have never wanted
anything
but trouble. They’ve gone out of their way to cause hurt and pain. They’ve done their damnedest to start a war.” King narrowed his eyes. “Look, this isn’t just about Ace anymore, though I feel personally responsible for him and am committed to getting him out alive, if I can. But now, this is
also
about taking down as many of these MC fuckers as we can, so that it
ends
, as close as we can
get
it to ending, anyway. This is about breaking the club, breaking it hard and deep, and in all the right places. Not just breaking its spine, though, or breaking its chain of command. This is about
ripping out
its fucking spine,
tearing out
its goddamn heart, and I mean with our bare hands if we have to. When the sun rises tomorrow, I want a charred corpse on the ground wearing the Fallen Angels cut. I want it done, and down, and never getting up again.”