Shot to Hell (Four Horsemen MC #7) (19 page)

 Yeah, definitely a Raptor.  What kind of idiot smokes around gas?

Steele started the car, and the prospect glanced across the street, clearly spooked, but they didn’t pull out of the space, so he kept working on the pump.

“How you wanna do this? Confront or follow?”

“Confront.” Steele grimaced at the lack of traffic on the road. It wouldn’t provide much cover. “If we follow him, he’ll catch on and we might lose ‘em. He’s only a prospect. I can make him cooperate.”

“There’s two exits. If we block one, he’ll run to the other. How far away is the closest group?”

“Twenty miles. They won’t get here in time. And I’m bettin’ the Raptors only sent one prospect to set up the skimmers. It wouldn’t attract as much attention.”

As the prospect continued working, Steele eased the car out of the space and slowly made his way across the street, trying not to spook the kid. As soon as they pulled into the lot, the prospect slammed the pump shut and dashed for his motorcycle.

Steele pulled up right behind him, threw it in park, and dashed out the door, gun in hand. “Don’t move, asshole.” Ash followed with her weapon drawn, as well.

“You aren’t gonna shoot me.”

“Oh, yeah?” Steele kept the gun pointed at the Raptor’s chest.

“Can’t get your brother back if you don’t know where the fuck he is, and you can’t find
that
out if I don’t tell you.”

Steele wanted blow a hole in this little shithead, but he forced himself to work the problem. Prospects were a bunch of hotheads looking to prove themselves to the brothers. He probably figured he was a big deal, having a run-in with one of the Horsemen.

“Hey, I know you.” The kid smirked. “The brothers carved the club symbol into your chest. Musta hurt like a bitch.”

“It tickled a bit,” Steele lied. He had to find an opening he could use, but Ash beat him to it.

“What’s your name, kid?”

The Raptor frowned, clearly thrown by the question. “Ain’t tellin’ you, and I ain’t a kid, neither.”

“Come on, all you bikers have cool nicknames,” Ash said. “Tell me yours.”

Was it Steele’s imagination, or did she sound flirtatious?

The prospect gave her a once-over, and Steele could see the appreciation in the little snot’s eyes. “They’re road names. Mine’s Knife.”

Steele snorted.

“Did I say something funny?” Knife removed the cigarette from his mouth and deliberately ashed on the ground.

Steele stepped back. He could smell gas in the air. There was an oily puddle on the ground beneath his feet. Someone must’ve fumbled with the fuel nozzle earlier in the day.

“Where’s Coyote?” Ash asked.

He shrugged. “I can’t say.”

“Wherever he is, he must be alive and well. He’s been building your skimmers, since you dipshits couldn’t figure it out on your own.” So Steele still had a chance to save his brother.

The kid ignored the jab. “I’ll tell you something, though.”

Steele cocked his head to the side. “Oh, yeah?”

“The cartel’s comin’ for y’all.”

“
Yeah, tell me somethin’ I don’t already know. They’re comin’ for us because you dickheads stole their heroin.”

“Was our money to begin with, and your boys shouldn’t have gotten involved.” He chuckled. “And good luck explainin’ it to ‘em.”

“What’s the plan? You gonna sell it off? Keep the profit?” Ash asked.

Knife puffed out his chest like he was all big and bad. “Should give us a fat chunk of change, a brand new start.”

“What about when the cartel finds out? The witch is gonna come after your ass.”

“But she’s already after yours. You and the Dixie Mafia.”

“I get it. So you assholes disappear with the goods, the cartel blames us and the Dixie boys, then you ride off into the sunset with all the cash.”

The kid grinned. “Works out nice, don’t it? You should tell ‘em we said ‘hello’, but it’s gonna be a short conversation.”

The bastard dropped the cigarette and the gas lit, blazing beneath their feet and forcing them both backward.

Knife jumped on his bike, started it up, and took off. Steele ran for the Forester, and Ash jumped in beside him. Wheels screeching, they followed the biker.

In a matter of seconds, they’d cleared the town. At this time of the night, there was no traffic. Only a wide open stretch of highway lay in front of them.

“We’ll never catch him,” Steele gritted out. “Bikes are built for speed, and there’s nothing but asphalt up ahead.”

“Then we’ll have to slow his ass down.” Ash unbuckled her seatbelt then rolled down the window.

“What the hell are you doing?” He didn’t dare take his eyes off the road.

Knife surged ahead on his bike, and he pushed the pedal to the floor.

“What the hell do you think?” She sat on the windowsill and fired at the Raptor. 

Steele heard the whiz of a bullet ricocheting off the bike. “Get the fuck down from there. You aren’t even wearing body armor for God’s sake.”

She ignored him, firing another shot.

The Raptor pulled his weapon and blindly fired behind him. It hit the passenger windshield, spider-webbing the glass.

“Get in here now.”

But Ash kept firing. “Shut up and drive faster.”

The Raptor fired another round, and Ash gasped in pain.

“Are you hit?”

“Keep going. It only grazed me.”

Steele glanced up and saw a blood stain spreading over her shoulder.

Gritting his teeth, he took his foot off the gas and slowed the SUV down. If he’d slammed on the brakes, she would’ve gone flying out of the car.

Knife sped off, disappearing into the night.

Steele slammed a hand on the steering wheel.

Chapter Twelve

“What the fuck is wrong with you? He could’ve killed you.”

Ash paced back and forth, hands clenched at her sides. They stood in the parking lot in front of Hades.

The sky rumbled above their heads, billowing black clouds and flashes of lightning.  It was a warning—one she couldn’t seem to heed. Snow spat from the sky, and the earth rumbled around them—thunder snow.

After Steele had let the Raptor get away, he’d informed his club what had gone down and then taken to her Duke, a scowly biker who’d patched up her shoulder. The bullet had only grazed her arm. She was fine, but Steele acted like she’d nearly been murdered tonight.

The blood roared in her ears. She wanted to hit something, hurt someone. Steele had pulled her away before she’d gotten any satisfaction—like screwing a guy only to miss out on the orgasm.

Over the past few years, the takedown had become a bit of a drug to her—jumping on a suspect, roughing him up. Ash didn’t always go in for the kill. Most of the time, it was about the pain. Their upcoming birthday sent a tsunami boiling through the deep well of rage inside, and she couldn’t seem to calm the waters. Taking down Knife tonight might’ve helped.

“Are you even listenin’ to me?”

“What?” She stopped pacing and glowered at Steele. She hadn’t had her ass handed to her since she’d been a Marine, and she wasn’t taking this crap. “Newsflash, I’m fine. Knife didn’t kill me.”

“Not for lack of tryin’ on his part.” He crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Or yours.”

“What?” She tossed her hair back and tilted her chin up, hands on hips.

“Think about it real hard.”

“I handled myself fine.”

“That’s what you call handling it? You got
lucky
.”

“No, I’m awesome.” Ash gave him her best
oorah
smile, but she didn’t feel it. Not really.

Beneath all her bravado, a small part of her wondered about what would happen if the Raptor
had
killed her tonight. One bullet straight to the heart or brain. Sure, it’d hurt at first, but ultimately, there’d be stillness—no more anger, no pain, and no grief. 

Peace—that’s what death brings, right?

Her life felt like a three-ring circus, chaos swirling all around her—gunfire, drug deals, hunting down criminals. Most of the time, the pandemonium was comforting. While running for her life, she didn’t have time to sit and examine it more closely, think about what she was missing and
who
.

“Sooner or later, your luck will run out.”

Promise?

But Ash said nothing.

Steele slowly approached her, hands splayed, as if she were about to bolt.

Her thighs clenched, and she forced herself to remain still, unmoving. No, unmoved.  Tucked away, safe inside her own mind where nothing could get to her.

“Ash,” he began then stopped. He tilted his head, trying to discern something.

“What?”

“I think…I think there’s something you’re not tellin’ me. You denied it earlier, but do you…
still
wanna die?”

Her breath hitched, and she turned from him. God, he knew her all too well. Somehow, Steele had always understood her, even when no one else did.

The only person who’d known her better was Abe.

“Talk to me.” He placed a hand on her back and she shrugged it off.

Ash squared her shoulders.
Fuck him
. He didn’t have the right to stand there with his hound dog eyes and demand answers. “Leave it alone. It’s none of your business.”

He grabbed her shoulders and whirled her around. She hadn’t even heard him approach, and she was always painfully aware of her surroundings whenever he was near.

“Answer me. Are you tryin’ to get yourself killed?”

“Of course not.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t give a shit what you believe.” She kicked him in the shin and shoved him away.

Oh, no.
Not now.

Ash could feel the tears burning behind her eyelids. She’d be damned if she cried in front of Steele.

Steele backed up a couple of paces. “You’ve made yourself
clear. But
I give a shit about you, so I’m not lettin’ it go. Why are you so reckless?”

“I’m not reckless. I’m brave.” Ash’s lower lip quivered, disproving her own words.

“Yeah, I got that memo. Talk to me.”

He wasn’t going to leave it, so she ’fessed up. “The only time I let go is when I’m fightin’.” Ash spent most of her time trying to control everything—her ops, her exercise and food regime. It was one of the reasons her relationships had gone by the wayside. Family and friends couldn’t be controlled. And they had a terrible habit of dying.

“You can’t bend everyone and everythin’ to your will.”

His expression was so tender, so understanding, it made her ache to let him in. More than anything, she wanted him to hold her, to tell her everything would be okay, even if it was a lie. But she couldn’t. If she laid the armor down, she’d be vulnerable, helpless.

“Spare me the overprotective routine. I already have an older brother who watches over me.” Her lips twisted. “Or I did…
until you let him die
.”

Steele went ashen and silent. For a second, she regretted her harsh words. Then she remembered watching her parents cry for their son, and she got over it.

He spoke again after a moment or two. “You’ve always been brave, but you never went lookin’ for trouble.”

“You don’t know me anymore,
Steele,
and maybe you never did.” Ash wanted to hurt him, and judging from the way he flinched, she had.

“I know what’s starin’ me right in the face. I’ve seen it before. A part of you wishes you’d died with Abe—you’re not alone.”

Tears filled her eyes again. “You wish you’d died with him too?”

And there it was—out in the open, lying in the middle of the street between them, twitching and bleeding like an animal run over by a car. What she’d always been thinking, secretly, in the shadowy corners of her own mind.

Steele shared the same shameful desire.

“No.” Ash backed away from him, shaking her head. “I can’t do this. I don’t wanna talk about this. We aren’t gonna discuss it.” 

And then she started running—from him, from the memory of Abe. She tried to escape the reality of her own dark thoughts—to lay beside Abe in the cold ground.

Steele was right behind her, eating up the space between them with his longer legs and more powerful strides. “Too damn bad,” he panted. “We’re talkin’ about it.”

“Go away.”

Steele gripped her arm and yanked her off her feet. He hauled her off the blacktop until they were huddled against the wall. “Talk to me.”

Ash punched him in the face. “Let go.”

“Make me.” His voice cracked.

Ash stared at Steele, and her vision tunneled. The rage inside boiled, bubbled to the surface, aching to come out and play.
Begging
for release. Ash swayed closer to him, arms clamped at her sides to keep from reaching out.

“That’s it.” Steele tapped his own chest. “Put the blame where it belongs. On me. Abe’s dead because of my actions, because I didn’t stay at my fucking post. I wanted to get laid, and that mattered more than my duty, mattered more than my friendship with Abe at that moment.” Steele spread his arms wide, offering up his big body as a target. “Stop punishing yourself and punish me instead. I
deserve
it.”

“No.” She trembled, adrenaline rushing through her veins. All she could see was Steele standing against the brick wall, big body braced for impact.

God help her, she wanted it.
Needed
it. How long had she been carrying around this anger, this pain? She could put it on him, and Steele wouldn’t fight back. For once, Ash could let the rage loose.

“Come on. You know you wanna.” His voice lowered. “
I
want you to. Punish me.”

The wind lashed at their clothing, making it billow around their bodies. For a wild second, she wondered if the two of them had somehow caused this weird weather—two fronts crashing into one another, triggering mayhem around them.

Ash wailed on him—striking his handsome face, pummeling his chest.

Steele didn’t even try to defend himself. He just took it.

She knocked his legs out from underneath him, and then straddled his hips. As she slapped and kicked and hit, tears streamed down her face. Tears she’d been holding on to forever. The floodgates let down, and all of it poured out—fury and pain and grief.