Hell on Heelz (Asphalt Gods' MC) (10 page)

RAGE

Fuck
! It wasn’t like I hadn’t been in this situation before—but the Banshee had always had my back. Sugar Hips buzzed passed me on his ape hangers. He looked flippin’ ridiculous with his new mustache and mirrored glasses, reminding me of Freddie Mercury or 70’s porn. Whatever his current style, Jason was tougher than anyone gave him credit for, but he wasn’t our president either. I heard the familiar ting of a bullet hitting my bike. Damn it! The fucker trailing us shot at us again. Usually, the Banshee would fall behind and take over as I rode ahead. She always protected me, because I was so new, or who knows why. For the first time in my life, I fired my pistol behind me while riding—luckily staying on the road. I took a quick look over my shoulder. The man was gone. Did I hit him? No, the God zoomed by, bumping into Sugar sideways like he’d meant to, and both their bikes went crashing—flipping—sliding to the side of the road right in front of me.

Automatically, I swerved to avoid joining them. Even as I worried for my friend and feared for my life, adrenaline rushed through me like every time I survived a crash. Making a 360 turn, I came to a stop on the empty street and watched in a daze as both men somehow survived enough to pop right up and run off, Sugar Hips in the lead. My eyes followed them, Sugar, long and lanky, outrunning a guy who was three times his size. They ran through a courtyard into an abandoned house with boarded up windows and crooked shutters.

Speed on my side, I made it to the house the second they’d disappeared inside. I parked my Harley in the yard and jogged after them. Entering the front door quietly, I crept around the corner of the dusty foyer. I found them in a stalemate, guns drawn and immediately heard shots, more than one gun going off. I dropped and crouched behind the covered couch. There was a misleading silence then my ears rang. The pressure subsided and everything was muffled for a moment. Maybe it was safe now but probably not. Regardless, my own weapon in my hand, I slowly moved to stand. Too bad, my boot scraped the floor. Fuck, the sound seemed to echo through the house.

“Come out and drop it,” came an unfamiliar and very masculine voice—clearly not Sugar.

I rose at a snail’s pace, my gun still in my hands. Sugar was down, leaning against the wall, trying to hold himself up. A red puddle was forming under him
. Oh no
! The dick must have put a bullet in him.
Thank goodness, he was alive.

Without thinking, I stepped toward Sugar, but the God stepped toward me. “Stop there sweetheart. Stay put.”

“Edie, run!” Sugar screeched the best he could from the floor.

The front door was behind me, I knew. All I’d have to do was turn around and run—well that and hope to dodge a bullet. But I wasn’t about to leave him—we never left a sister behind and that meant Sugar too. I raised my hands up, giving in.

“On the floor,” the man ordered.

Sinking to my knees, I laid my gun down and slid it across the floor.

Ignoring the man who’d shot him, I crawled over to Sugar and lifted his vest only to see the red blotch spreading on his white tank. Holding his bleeding side, I told him,
“We’ve got to get you to a hospital.”

Even though my eyes were on Sugar’s clammy face, I registered that the God who’d shot him, pocketed my weapon and stepped closer.

“Well—
hello handsome
. Edie, at least he’s a looker.” Sugar seemed drunk, like he was going into shock.

I looked up, seeing that Sugar had called it. He was completely right. I muttered, petting his face because I needed to keep him talking. “Why does that matter, Sugar?”

“We know what the Gods’ have done to our sisters.”

Oh, yeah.
It clicked in my head. You didn’t want be captured by any outlaw club, but the Gods’ made it a point to humiliate us Heelz the worst because of their history with Shirley. Duchess spent a month at the South Carolina chapter taking on all the men, sexually, and they beat her before they returned her to us battered and broken in more ways than one. Guess they figured it’d be a better punishment, letting her live after giving her a taste of their club life.

The man stepped even closer, his brown muddy boot right in front of me.

I backed up to the wall, giving the God the meanest look I could muster. “You better not lay one dirty hand on me!”

“You?” he scoffed. “No way in hell, honey!” There was so much hatred in his voice.

“Why—because I’m black?” That wasn’t usually my go to, but I’d noticed the rebel flag on his cut first.

“No, because you’re a fucking Heel!”

“Edie, your booty can’t save us now.” Sugar had gone nutty.

The man took a moment to check me out—I could tell as his eyes scanned me from head to toe, stopping in strategic places. His lips curled up at the edges as he said it, like he was remembering what they do to us too, “You’re one fine looking woman.”

Was he coming on the me? “Eat a bag of dicks,” I told him, there was no way.

He shrugged, lifting his gun again, pointing it square at me. Then the man sighed. That was odd. “I have to kill you.” Looking over his shoulder at Sugar who was bleeding out, he added, “Both of you.”

“Please don’t. I have kids,” flew out of my mouth.

It was automatic, begging for my life. I was shocked at the desperation in my cry for only a moment. I felt a cool tear run down my face and land on my chest. All I could think of was Gavin and Gail. I saw their sweet faces, a morph between the infant ones and more adolescent ones. I felt the regret—all the time I’d missed with them. I would’ve been seeing them soon too.

Defeated and teary eyed, I looked up and watched the man’s face shine with a sliver of guilt as he wavered. Taking advantage, I tried my best to bat my eyes, but it was like I’d forgotten how to look sweet. I knew I just looked as miserable as I felt.

Trying to get my head on straight, I studied the man’s vest again, reading, Mud. I couldn’t see a patch of significance. Mud was a nobody.

Putting his gun down just a little, he kicked his foot. “Damn it! I was warned about you.”

“About me?”

“About the Heelz in general. Playing on my sensitivities and all.”

“I’m not lying…” I shouted, the thought making me angry as the awful sensation, missing my babies still resided in me, true as the day I was born.

He put up one finger. With his gun still on us, he answered his phone that must’ve been on silent. “Dixie’s dead,” he repeated what the caller told him, looking me right in the eyes.

I didn’t give a damn if that bitch was cold, but I was glad Short and Flossy fell behind somewhere in Alabama. I hoped they went on home.

Heaving in a breath, I pushed my kids and my sorrow out of my mind. If I became soft, I’d end up as dead as Dixie.

He went on speaking on the phone, “Mutherfukers too… I’ll catch up with you.”

My eyes followed his hand as he tucked his phone away in his tight jeans. I ran my eyes over him. Boy, Sugar had nailed it. Besides his black eye, he was one hella fine looking man, perfect body with the handsomest face I’d ever seen. I wasn’t usually one for lumbersexuals, flannel, beards and long hair but this man was an Adonis in blue jeans. Too bad he cocked his gun, bringing me out of picturing him naked—chopping down a tree.

I raised up so I was on my knees, closer to him. Maybe I could go for it. Knock the big guy down and get away—but what about Sugar? I took another breath. Was I nothing but a coward without my sister’s muscle?
Hell no.
I was Rage,
damn it
, a ball of fury. I stood up to everyone who came my way.

“Listen, you Paul Bunyan looking motherfucker,” I barked then paused, pleased my voice sounded so confident. I let that feeling wash over me. “If Dixie actually is dead, I’m president of the Heelz now.” I didn’t think for one second I would be but why not use it to my advantage? He wouldn’t know shit. We didn’t let anyone know our business by wearing it on our cuts. “Let me school you on how this works. You can’t just kill me. There will be hell to pay. Can
you
really make that sort of decision for your club?”

Mud stepped forward, putting his gun right against my temple. “
You
, President of the Heelz?” He sneered. “Makes me want sprinkle your brain around the room all the more.”

The cold metal felt refreshing against my sweaty forehead, like a bucket of cold water. I closed my eyes. Racking my brain for a way out, I tried to think about anything but dying. My eyes popped open, when I remembered the one thing I knew about the Gods not many did. “You can’t kill me, Birdturd. I have a message for Scar.” Maybe I could bargain for my life. I’d tell their golden boy, Scar, Shirley’s secret. I’d tell him he had a daughter, once I was safely home, that is. I’d tell him, and then Legs would kill me.

Mud looked confused—good. “Come to think of it, I think the club will want to decide what to do with you two.”

Sugar wasn’t going to make it that long. I imagined doing something brave but in reality knew I wasn’t quicker than a bullet. Confused or not, Mud hadn’t lowered his weapon. Did I want to die today? One move from me, and he’d only have to pull the trigger. It was time to bargain. All my tears were dry now, my voice steady and strong. “Look Cornfed, I’ll go. I’ll do anything you want. Just get him to a hospital. Please.”

“Anything?”

“Just let Sugar go. Y’all don’t want him—unless you boys swing that way.”

He didn’t have an answer as Sugar coughed in the background, saying, “Figure out if you two are going to fight or fuck, I’m dying here!”

The gun left my head as Mud turned away from me, his hand holding the gun, rising. I watched in in slow motion as it came down. He conked Sugar on the head, knocking him out cold. As I watched my friend’s head bounce on the old floor, I took my chance. I jerked out my foot, kicking Mud’s leg as hard as I could. He didn’t go straight down like you’d imagine. Instead, I fell back, landing hard on my tailbone with a yip as the big oaf fell on me.

Under him, I fought, trying to hurt him. I scratched, spit, bit anything I could do as he tried to catch and hold my arms down. I needed to get to my feet first. Using all his weight to hold me down, he finally pinned my arms above my head. I couldn’t budge, so I bucked my body up desperately.

“Oh, sweetheart, do that again.” His pearly whites appeared. He was laughing at me as I realized we were in a pretty compromising position with my legs spread-eagle under him, our parts lined up and all.

He was smashed against me, my breasts pancaked between us. Mud’s face hovered over mine. I stilled, giving his face a once over. If the situation were different, it wouldn’t have been half-bad.

Feeling his erection against my belly, I groaned at him, “Really, this is giving you a hard on?”

“You’re the one flopping around like a fish, rubbing yourself all over me. Your friend was right. I don’t know if you are trying to fight me or fuck me.” I breathed out hard as he chuckled, his breath hitting my face.

“Might be funny to you, but my brother’s dying.”

Mud got up so quick I didn’t have time to get the upper hand before he had his pistol trained on me. All business again, he ordered, “Take off his vest and yours too.”

“Why?” Did he want a couple of clean trophies to take when he killed us?

“Just do it.” His hard voice said he was done playing.

I carefully helped Sugar out of his and shrugged my cut off to the floor. Mud bent down, offering his hand like he was going to help me up. There was dirt caked around his nails and in the creases of his hand, maybe blood. Knowing Sugar didn’t have forever, I firmly put my hand in his and watched one corner of his mouth go up in a halfway grin. What was he smiling about?

“Me falling on my ass that funny?” I glared in return.

The same metallic cold from moments ago slipped around my wrist, causing me to look back to our hands. Oh, that was why he was smiling. He’d cuffed me as he was helping me up to stand. I couldn’t believe it. The man had gone and handcuffed me to him.

“Nah, but the look on your face now is priceless.”

Shutting my mouth so I wouldn’t be catching flies, I huffed, jiggling my arm. “Why do you have cuffs, anyhow? You one of those 50 shades sickos?”

He gave me a sly look. “Wouldn’t you like to know? Come on.”

I stopped dead. “Hell no! I just can’t leave him to die.”

Mud blew out a breath, trying to pull me along, but I sat right back down on the floor.

He lurched forward, skidding me onward but not far.

Maybe my big ass would save us after all.

Mud blew out another breath, conceding, “We’ll call him an ambulance once we’re long gone. Now,
come on.”

I yanked back, not sure if I should go with him, even if I really didn’t have much of a choice. Staring at my cut lying on the ground, I felt I should fight more, kick, scream and try to break away. Mud noticed me looking and kicked our vests under the couch.

He yanked me forward again, this time about dragging me all the way across the room. Rather than being scraped across the splintering wood floor, I got to my feet.