THE OUTLAW’S BRIDE Read online

  Her eyes looked at the table. Half-empty bottles and drained bottles filled the entire surface of the wood there, and it was clear to her that the three men had been there for a while. Someone who was definitely not a waiter – Victoria knew the place well enough to know that – walked past them. Darren raised two fingers, signaling that he wanted a couple beers.

  There was no way anyone was going to listen to that.

  The guys were talking, though, and Victoria realized she hadn’t been paying any attention at all to what they were saying. She tuned back into the conversation.

  “…no one was hurt seriously.” Someone had been shot in the knee.

  “...they weren’t there, they got out in time.”

  Someone was staying at a house, with a bunch of the other guys; a couple were in the hospital with some injuries, including the guy who was shot in the knee, even though he really hated it. A few were hiding out somewhere that the guys didn’t mention; one guy hadn’t been contacted yet, but the consensus was that he was “probably just hiding out in the woods somewhere.”

  None of them had answered what she wanted to know, though, so she butted in. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t technically been involved in the fight. She had been at the center of it, and she was going to say whatever she wanted to about it.

  “No arrests?”

  Benny looked at her with a hint of bemusement in his eyes. “Are you the one Darren wanted us to go in guns a-blazing for?”

  “Like it’d be anyone else,” she muttered under her breath. It was a joke, but the thought of him even looking at another girl made her blood run cold. “Obviously.”

  This got a chuckle out of Benny, and the other two men soon followed. “That makes sense. You seem clever.” The compliment rolled off of her. It was a compliment to compliment, to see how she responded in conversation, or some other stupid thing like that. She didn’t really care too much for social standards just then, so she just nodded her head back. She could deal with being polite later, even if this was one of Darren’s closest friends.

  Benny continued speaking. “Some people got arrested,” he started out sounding like he was trying to seem sad, but then that morphed into a smirk, “but we didn’t.”

  “So you’re saying the Skulls got arrested?” She still wasn’t sure why exactly these people hated each other. Darren had given her a reason involving drug busts, but it sounded like the Broken Skulls and the Bloody Saints had always hated each other, just because they could.

  No one had time to comment anything before Marcus came by the table, dirty apron askew with whatever it was he had been cooking with. A lot of people had been ordering food the past while when Victoria was gone, and that wasn’t working out for Marcus very well. The food splattered all over him didn’t suit him, and neither did the grumpy look on his face. Victoria prepared herself to have to snap at him for saying something really freaking rude.

  He was holding two beers in his hands, just like Darren had asked for. The caps were tight-fitted and it looked like they were struggling to stay in the grips of his palms, but Marcus managed.

  She had to get the first word in before he could say anything uncouth. His eyes were already on her.

  “Matt,” she said.

  “Vick.” She hated being called Vick. Marcus was the only one to do that, and she didn’t really worry about it much because she never saw him. But she guessed it made sense that he wasn’t going to like her now; she had pretty much just abandoned her post at this job, but she had had good reason. Someone had wanted to murder her. It wasn’t like she’d quit the job just because she decided the working conditions sucked or something. “It’s you.”

  She raised her arms up above her shoulders, shrugging them and making as silly a face as she could manage. She knew she should probably be mad, but it wasn’t like she even cared. She was so past all of this. “It’s me!”

  Marcus looked like he was about to say something, but the words that were at his lips dissolved into one of the most judgmental sighs she’d ever heard. He huffed, and his mouth parted just a bit as he –

  Darren took the beers from Marcus without him even noticing. Setting the bottles down on the table, he rose a little from his seat and put his hand on Marcus's back. It was a small pat, and it looked like it was friendly – with the exception of the fact that it most certainly meant nothing good. “Relax. She’s with me.”

  The other guys at the table shot the two of them a look. It was obvious that Victoria didn’t work here anymore, and the timing of how she’d quit working there overlapped too well with just about everything else that was going on. They didn’t ask. Actually, they all burst out laughing.

  Rolling his eyes, Darren asked if they would excuse him and shot Victoria a look.

  She wasn’t sure where he was going.

  She came with.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Victoria

  They were still in a crowded bar, but somehow Darren managed to make this seem private. She’d barely even noticed this booth while she was working there, tucked into a corner of the room. It was hidden by the chaos of everything, but she could tell by the way Marcus shot them looks that it was visible if you knew it was there.

  She slid onto one seat, and he quickly followed by sliding onto the seat across from her. He had a sly smile on his face, and his hand fell to one of the pockets in his jeans.

  She cocked her head at him.

  “What do you have in there?”

  He winked at her. “You can go look in there and find it if you want.”

  “I’d rather not,” she said. The truth was that she did want to. She hadn’t been with him in a while, and everything in her missed him. She just wanted to have one night with him, and to wake up after it amidst a bunch of cuddles. Not like the last time, when she woke up alone. Abandoned. “Besides, aren’t your hands kind of full right now?”

  He was still juggling the beers in the hand that wasn’t playing at his pocket, and he put them on the table before pushing one to Victoria. He nodded at it, as if asking if she needed help with opening that, and she rolled her eyes to tell him she didn’t.

  It was like he didn’t even know her, and it made her laugh. It was tenser, though, like one of them was about to pop the bubble that had grown from them both avoiding their feelings for each other. Placing her hand on top of the table, she reached for his, trying to bring it to her.

  “Someone’s being clingy,” he argued.

  She argued right back. “Someone’s pretending not to like it.”

  “I’m not the one who went from telling me to fuck off to holding my hand in an open bar.” He winked at her, gripping her fingers tighter between his and bringing them closer. For a second they were just sitting there staring at each other.

  Then his hand pulled away from hers, and he was opening a beer and then chugging the cool liquid. He brought his hand across the table and moved to make as if he was going to try opening her mouth.

  She rolled her eyes at him, and brought her own beer to her lips. Before long, they were giggling, and she wasn’t sure exactly what was going on.

  “Your laugh is ridiculous,” she said.

  “Yours is ridiculous.”

  She grabbed his beer bottle from him and tipped it on its side. Nothing came out of it, so she grabbed it by the neck and held it upside down. Still nothing.

  She raised an eyebrow at him, mimicking his trademark move. “You drank all of this already?”

  He grabbed her bottle and eyed the fact that it was still half-full. “You didn’t?”

  Somehow he managed to get Marcus’s attention, throwing his fingers up to signal that he wanted two more beers brought over their way. He wasn’t telling him just what kind of beers he wanted, but he seemed to be happy with what he was getting – so it was either random and Darren just didn’t care since it was at least alcohol, or they already had an arrangement.

  She took a sip of her drink. “He’s probably going to spit in
those, you know.”

  “He wouldn’t,” Darren laughed. “Besides, this is me we're talking about.”

  “People hate you.”

  “You don’t.”

  She sipped her beer again and avoided answering the question, although she knew that they were going to have to talk about their feelings some time. It was going to be impossible to ignore.

  They sat in silence for a while before Darren pulled a weird face, and Victoria burst out into laughter. He laughed at her, and neither of them were able to shut up.

  Marcus showed up with the beers. He set them on the table, gave Victoria a look, and she and Darren both gave him a look back. He left.

  Darren palmed the pocket he was looking through earlier, but he was careful to keep track of Victoria and of making sure she didn’t notice. She was intent on looking at him, though, and he felt like the ring was burning a hole in his pocket.

  He always carried it with him, in the storage compartment of his bike. He’d moved it into his pocket before entering the bar. It was the ring his grandmother had given him years ago. Not that he’d thought he’d ever need it.

  He looked to Victoria, looking beautiful even in the murky light of this bar.

  He needed it now.

  Lifting a finger, he pointed towards something at the other end of the bar. There was nothing there except for an old TV and a couch that no one was on, but from where Victoria was, she would have to tilt her head back and hunt for something, even if it wasn’t actually there. There was no way she would see what he wanted to do, and it would be a surprise. That was the goal.

  “Look at that,” he tried to make himself sound as convincing as he possibly could. “That’s fucking ridiculous.”

  She didn’t really believe what he was saying – the tone he was using was so unlike him. He was being kind of weird tonight in general. So she turned her head, and, looking for whatever he’d seen, missed Darren sticking the ring in her glass.

  “You’re blind.”

  “There was something there,” he shrugged.

  “I don’t believe you,” she rolled her eyes at him – was she always going to do that? Probably. She made to grab her glass. She brought it to her lips, and trying to chug like Darren could, drank until she felt the metal of something hit her lips.

  Crinkling her eyebrows together, she put her hand in and grabbed it. It was a ring – simple, but lovely in its easy-going elegance. She gazed at it for a moment, asking, “What’s this?”

  “It’s an engagement ring.” He looked at her like that was the most obvious thing in the world, with an expectant look on his face.

  “You have to ask first, you know.” She grinned. Her heart was beating in her chest and she felt feelings she didn’t know she could experience – nerves, excitement, adoration. Small hints of fear of the unknown.

  “I know,” he grinned back. “So. Victoria.”

  “Darren.”

  “Will you marry me?”

  “I think so.” She lifted the glass she’d found the ring in. Bringing it to him, they clinked their glasses against each other, eyes on the other all the while.

  “Hey.” He reached for her hand again. “Want to leave this place?”

  She nodded.

  Epilogue

  This wasn’t the way she was expecting things to go for her, but Victoria couldn’t argue that she liked it all the same. It was hard to imagine her last name becoming “Saylor” a while ago, but that was now a reality. It wasn’t like they were going to go hop off to live in some suburb and have two and a half kids, though – so it was okay. Part of her didn’t mind the idea of that, but she wasn’t going to mention that to Darren (unless he brought it up first). For now, the thought of staying in the city and living in an apartment with him was more than fine.

  Despite the fact that neither of them were fans of change, really, they could both bounce back from this on their own; nothing else mattered when they were together. And with what they'd been through, they would always be together.

  THE END

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  THE DEVIL’S BRIDE: Hell Brothers MC

  By April Lust

  My city. My club. My rules. And she’ll be MY bride… whether she likes it or not.

  She needed my protection.

  Guess what, sweetheart?

  It’s gonna cost you everything.

  She came to me, bleeding and scared.

  They tried to hurt her.

  But if they pull that stunt again, I’ll bury every last one of those sons of b**ches.

  Because she belongs to me now.

  That’s the deal we struck.

  She gives me her body.

  I’ll give her safety.

  I don’t care if she thinks I’m Satan.

  Hell, she might be right.

  But by the time I’m done, she’ll be the devil’s bride.

  Chapter 1

  The Crabtree was, as usual, a mess. The air was filled with smoke so thick visibility was restricted to about thirty-five feet. Not that it mattered—the room was only half-lit to begin with. The corners were a shrouded mystery of debauchery. The floor was packed with people surrounding the scattered pool tables, money changing hands every few seconds.

  In the middle of the hazy room was a large wooden table. Over a dozen people sat around it, all engaged in their own conversations, yet seemingly oriented towards an imposing man sitting at the center. Every person sitting at the table had a patch sewn somewhere on their leather clothing: flaming skulls chasing each other over a Welcome mat that sat at the entrance to the gates of Hell. Underneath it said The Hell Brothers.

  The man at the center of the table was resting his arm on a motorcycle helmet that had The Hell Brothers patch drawn on the front with Leader stamped across the top. He was handsome, in a hard way, with tattoos and scars haphazardly strewn across his body and a crooked smile that said he knew a thing or two about a thing or two. He turned to his left and looked at the gorgeous, olive-skinned woman sitting next to him.

  The man opened his mouth, leaning forward to shout above the din, his auburn hair falling into his eyes, when the front door burst open, sending a cool draft of air across the room that parted the thick clouds of smoke clinging to the ceiling.

  “Ace!” A very tall, very heavy-set man stood in the entrance, gasping for air as he leaned his huge belly against the doorframe. His long blond hair was falling from its ponytail, matting against his sweaty face.

  The man at the table sat up, suddenly alert. “What is it, Smalls?” he demanded.

  Smalls did his best to explain what happened between huge gulps of air. “Jackson…selling out back…Alexei showed up…”

  Ace held up his hand. He didn’t need to hear any more to know what happened. “Thanks, Smalls. Take a breather, okay?” He needed Smalls with him out there, not passed out from exhaustion.

  The Crabtree had once upon a time been considered off limits, a home base of sorts, where none of the gangs were allowed to conduct business, or settle old scores. It was a cease-fire zone where leaders could meet peaceably.

  Then the Russian mob had moved in, taking the corner market on almost every territory with their foreign products and far-reaching fingers. Their leader, Alexei, was merciless, and his second-in-command, Yury, delighted in inflicting pain. They had no order, no code to keep them in line, which meant eventually they would burn themselves out. Ace just hoped the Russians wouldn’t take everyone else out along with them.

  Ace stood up and looked at the people sitting before him. “Riley and Diego,” he said, pointing at an incredibly good-looking black man with a goatee, and a short, stocky Hispanic man who was wearing sunglasses even though he was indoors. Without any hesitation, they both immediately stood and followed Ace to the door.<
br />
  Smalls stepped back, holding the door open for the three men. He let the door swing shut on the smoky room, where the remaining patrons anxiously returned to their conversations, pretending they hadn’t overheard what had just transpired.

  Still panting a little, Smalls led the men around to the back of the bar, where five men stood in a pyramid formation, the man at the front holding another man by the back of his neck with one hand, and pointing a gun at his side with the other. The one holding the gun was massive, well over six feet tall with ice-blond hair.

  “Jackson,” Ace whispered to himself, recognizing the much smaller man being held at gunpoint. “What’s going on here?” he asked the group, his breath puffing small clouds in the cold night air.