“Come on,” I mumbled, guiding her out of there. Behind me, the beatings restarted. Gutter howled again in pain, and Ramon grunted with every kick and hit to his already fucked body.
I didn’t need to hang around to see what was going to happen. They’d get confirmation those bastards were the only ones working together, and once that happened, it would be bye-bye Ramon and Gutter.
Jodie-May was trembling when I guided her through the false wall. When she was out of the narrow corridor and back in the room where we held church, she began sobbing, her thin shoulders drooping as she stumbled to her knees.
I didn’t attempt to comfort her, didn’t say shit. Just stood there, looming over her, letting her cry.
After a few moments, she whispered, “He’s gonna die, ain’t he?”
“Yeah. They both are. You’re lucky—this could have been your last day too.”
A high-pitched squeak escaped her and her heavily made-up eyes, eyes that resembled a raccoon’s at the moment, grew wet with fear. “Can I stay here?”
“Do you want to?” I questioned, surprised.
“T-This is m-my home. Aaron’s too.”
I shrugged. “You did nothing wrong, did you?”
Her bottom lip trembled. “N-No. I ain’t even heard from Ramon for three years. That’s the last time he called Aaron too.”
“Well then, nothing to fear.” I narrowed my eyes at her. “Even if you left, you know what would happen if you squealed to anyone about what happened today, don’t you?”
She quivered. “I know.”
“I’m an equal opportunity man, Jodie-May. That means I don’t give a fuck who I kill to protect my brothers—pussy or cock, traitors are all fair game to me.”
That elicited a terrified moan.
Before she could piss herself again, I rumbled, “Go on. Get cleaned up.”
She staggered to her feet, content to get the fuck out of there, and I was about to turn around and head out of the room when I heard a chuckle.
Twisting around, I saw my woman sitting in—I had to stifle an amused sigh—Wolfe’s seat at the table.
I shook my head, and instantly regretted it when my headache blossomed behind my eyes. “You’re looking for an ass-whooping.”
“I can deal with that,” she purred, but her eyes were flashing with laughter as she said that.
“I’ll just bet.” Snorting, I headed over to her and mumbled, “Glad you’re back, babe.” I took my own seat, which was next to Wolfe’s, then hauled her out of hers and into my own.
“You stink of blood and sweat,” she grumbled as she settled on my lap.
“Be thankful I don’t stink of worse,” was all I said, as I settled my aching motherfucking head back against the rest. She cuddled into me, her face turning into my throat. “Second Rodeo got me back in a cage, I saw Axe hauling Ramon down here. Only knew you were back when Wolfe appeared.”
“It’s okay,” she murmured, accepting my half-assed apology for what it was. “It wasn’t like I was in danger.”
Because she wasn’t wrong, not technically, at any rate, I sighed and reached up to rub my hand through her hair. It felt good to touch her like this, good because the second I’d awoken to find her gone, the terror that filled me had been more than enough to break me.
It hadn’t been like last time. Back then, I’d known she was gone, had known she was pretty safe considering Ryan had been with her. This afternoon, all I’d known was that some bastards had taken her. Didn’t know who, didn’t know where or why.
My phone had been blown up with calls, and the second I’d seen some of the texts, some of my questions had been answered. Getting back to the clubhouse had been an exercise in torture because Rodeo had driven fast. But even though I’d wanted to head to the coordinates Wolfe had been sent, there was no way I could make it that far.
Shit, I hadn’t even been able to beat on Ramon before Flame had shown up. I’d just sat there, watching him, making sure he couldn’t do anything—not that there was much freedom of movement when you were on your belly, your elbows taped together with duct tape, and your bound ankles tied to your waist.
Knowing she was here, safe, had me feeling a shit ton better than just twenty minutes before.
“I was scared for you,” she whispered, her voice choked.
“Fuck, baby, I was petrified for you. If anything had happened to you—” I was a pussy for choking up, but I’d lost her once. There was no losing her again. I pressed a kiss to her temple. “You’re my old lady. You know that, right?”
She tensed. “Yeah. I know.”
I knew why she was tense. “We’re gonna make that official real soon. Fuck this shit. You wear our mark, we need to wear yours.”
Lucie pulled back to stare up at me. “Do you think Wolfe will be down with that?”
I shot her a toothy grin. “You just leave him to me.”
❖
Flame
Two days later
The burn of the tattoo gun was one I appreciated. I wasn’t a masochist, but there was always something fucking sensational about getting inked, and when Ink was behind the gun? You knew you were about to get good shit.
The rules of induction into the MC were that you wore your cut at all times unless you were in a cage, because that was just disrespecting your cut. When you became a prospect, your name would slowly morph into a road name, one that your brothers usually picked. You got the Hell’s Rebels’ insignia tattooed on your body somewhere—it was a hog-riding skeleton who flipped the world the bird—and finally, you picked a sigil that matched your road name and had that inked on you as well.
I wore my insignia on my throat, and I wore my sigil all the way up my left arm and along my abdomen—a wall of flames.
I’d liked to have said that being in a one-percenter MC meant there were no rules, but fuck, this wasn’t chaos. We were a brotherhood, well established, and one that was geared to making a nice and tidy profit on our ventures. But those rules, aside from any dictates that came from the council, covered almost all of them.
Except one.
If you took an old lady, that meant something. It was more than being married, more than even becoming a father. That old lady took your sigil when she became yours, and through that link, if you were ever killed or tossed in jail, the MC would protect her.
She took your sigil. You took her name on your body.
A simple exchange.
As I lay here, Lucifer was being etched across my chest. I should have gotten this years ago. Whether she was here or not, she’d been mine since she was seventeen, and I’d done her a disservice by not wearing her name on my body. I wore it on my fucking heart, so why not on my chest too?
We were onto the ‘R’ now, and my skin was stinging slightly but I liked the burn. Loved the way it sent endorphins winging around my system like I was on coke. Fuck, it was a cheaper and safer high than blow too.
Lucie’s hand was tucked firmly in mine as she laughed with the others. Axe and Wolfe wore her name now too, and Dagger was up after me.
The MC didn’t like the fact that we were sharing her, but when we reminded them of the rule that they had to do what the council said, and we were the fucking council, that had them shutting up over the past couple of days. We were doing nothing wrong, nothing that went against the aforementioned bylaws of the club, so they could go fuck themselves or say hello to my brass knuckles.