“Enough jabbering!” Monarch says in a clipped voice that tells me he is beyond livid, despite the perfectly calm voice he’s using. “How about we make this fun? Maybe the two lovebirds can put on a little show for us.”
Then he turns back to the room. “And bring me the ones who were with him to, I don’t want any more interruptions.”
Stormi is there, and Ace and that best friend of Colt’s. I didn’t notice them before. I only saw him and now my heart is once again racing in fear. This is all the backup he brought? It’s worse than if he came alone.
“Now,” Monarch says, turning to us, while the three of them put up a fight by the door. A huge silver hunting knife is suddenly in his hand.
“You will kill her,” he tells Colt. He’s totally lost his grip on reality. He was near the edge before, with all his pretending he’s really a king and such, but now he’s sailed right off that edge into stark, raving madness.
“No, I won’t,” Colt says, and it’s a clear statement of fact, no shock or fear or anything of the sort in his voice.
“You will if you don’t want to watch every man in here fuck her,” Monarch says. “I’ll have them fucking her for as long it takes to kill her. I’m sure we can find a dog or two to help them along.”
Revulsion replaces the stark calm in Colt’s eyes. It’s quickly replaced by fear, and something very close to regret.
“I’m sorry,” he says to me, and I have no idea why. He doesn’t mean it. He won’t let any of those things happen. Will he what?
He turns to Monarch and extends his hand. “Give me the knife.”
“What for?” I yell. “He’s just fucking with you, Colt. He’s so full of shit he reeks of it. Don’t fall for his bullshit.”
“Stop talking, bitch!” Monarch yells, backhanding me so viciously the whole world goes black before I even feel any pain.
I stumble and almost fall, would have, if Colt didn’t catch me. It’s only because of his strong arm holding me steady that I manage to hold onto consciousness and my sight.
“Oh, fuck it!” Monarch roars. “I’ll kill them both myself. No one fucks with the King!”
“I can’t let you do that, Monarch,” a calm, collected voice says. It’s so welcome and so familiar, I’m sure I lost my mind again. But Colt heard him too, and his face is the textbook example of shocked surprise as he stares in the direction of the voice.
“These two belong to me,” Cross says. “And I’ll take them back now. I can’t let you hurt them. You understand what I’m saying, right?”
Cross isn’t alone. He’s got like half his MC with him, at least. All except him have their faces covered by black bandanas, and their cuts clearly read Devil’s Nightmare MC now. The silence in the room is even deeper than it was before when Monarch first offered me to the highest bidder. They didn’t believe they were hearing him right then, and they probably don’t believe their eyes and ears now.
Even I understand what Cross is saying. It’s either Monarch hands us over or the Devils do what they’re best at—kill them all and take us anyway.
“This bitch is mine,” Monarch yells. “She betrayed me and she’ll pay for it. You can have the guy.”
Cross grins and shakes his head. “I’ll have them both. One way or another.”
Monarch is seething worse than ever. He’s not the most rational man at the best of times and this is so far from the best of times it couldn’t be farther. Plus, Cross’ arrival and demand cut right through Monarch’s revenge fantasy which I’m sure he’s been crafting since the night I disappeared. I bet Josh was supposed to be in Colt’s place.
Silent minutes tick by, dragging. Everyone’s silent, everyone’s waiting for Monarch’s decision. And I’m afraid I’m the only one who already knows what it will be. There will be blood, as Monarch is so fond of saying before they ride to kill someone who’s wronged them.
25
Brenda
The silence in the room has a physical presence. I can hear Monarch’s labored, slightly wheezy breathing clearly and it sounds like a landslide is about to go off. The eyes of all the Kings MC members are fixed on him so pointedly, I’m surprised he’s not going up in flames from the intensity of their looks. Everyone’s waiting with bated breath for what he’ll do next. I hesitate any of them really want to fight Devil’s Nightmare MC, but I know most of them feed off Monarch’s craziness and will be happy to go along if that’s what he wants to do.
The Devil’s aren’t tense, they’re just standing there in quiet alertness, as though they don’t care which side up this coin toss lands. They’re as ready to fight the Kings as they are to walk out of here without a fight. Even Colt is like that beside me as he looks at Monarch, waiting for the decision. How can he be so damn calm when we’ll be the first to get sliced up by Monarch when this fight breaks out?
Stormi isn’t in the room anymore. Good. I hope she’s far away by now. She shouldn’t have to see this carnage.
Monarch takes a deeper, wheezier breath, and the crowd of Kings sort of ripples. Then he opens his hands, the knife dangling from his right hand. “All right, Cross. Have it your way. I’m not losing men over this worthless bitch. But you should watch your back with her, she’s cagy and conniving.”
I dare not breathe. Is he lying? Is he sincere? Is he really gonna just let me go?
“Drop the knife and let them come down,” Cross says. I doubt I’ve ever been as surprised by anything in my life as I am when the Monarch’s knife clatters to the wooden boards of the podium. He even takes a step back and waves away his guys who closed ranks on the steps.
Colt takes off his jacket and wraps it around me. It’s heavy and warm and long enough to cover my naked ass for which I’m very grateful. It also smells like him, which finally loosens the tight knot of fear in my stomach. For the minutes I watched certain death coming, I forgot I was naked for all to see, but now I’m glad I don’t have to make the walk of shame, victorious though it would be.
I dare not believe this actually worked, that Monarch doesn’t have one more trick up his sleeve as we walk through the throng of Kings, all of whom are bristling with anger that some express by muttered curses and spitting in my path.
But once the cool air outside washes over my face and Colt finally wraps both his arms around me, kissing me so deeply and passionately, I feel like I’m floating on those same waters of unconsciousness I floated under for the last few days. Only this time they’re warm and pleasant and sweet and so very, very magical.
“Come on, we gotta move,” Cross tells us sharply. And even though I absolutely do not want to stop kissing Colt, we both obey immediately.
I wrap my arms very tightly around his waist as I lean against his back, the thrumming of the bike and the fresh night air, the sweetest lullaby I’ve ever heard. I could sleep for a thousand years. And the best part is, I know Colt’s kiss would always wake me.
Colt
Brenda’s sound asleep as we pull up in the parking lot of our clubhouse here in Vegas. The building’s dark, only a faint amber light coming from the shaded windows of the bar downstairs. The night silence is rent with the sound and echoes of bikes arriving. I’m surprised to see how many rode with Cross to get me and Brenda out of there—I’m pretty sure it’s everyone staying at this clubhouse plus a good number of those that were taking care of the Sinners.