I end up tripping over the next body, unable to look away, and feel myself falling. I land hard against someone who grunts as they drag me up to my feet, my legs slowly turning to jelly as it all starts to sink in.
The adrenaline causes my hands to start shaking as it tries to shut off all at once, and my eyes collide with an annoyed set of icy ones.
“I gave you one order. Just one,” Rush deadpans, eyes narrowing on me.
My hand that’s not holding the gun flies up and grabs the back of his neck, dragging him down to me.
He kisses me so hard that I know he’s angry, and I shove the gun down the front of my pants so I can grab him with two hands.
He lifts me with his hands firmly gripping my ass, and my legs wind around his waist as I drink him in, needing to feel every inch of him to be sure it’s not an illusion.
He groans against my lips, gentling his attack on my mouth, stumbling a little—likely over a corpse.
Someone else groans, one of his hands goes missing from my ass, and two shots ring out, never interrupting the kiss.
Rush hauls me outside where the sun licks at my skin, and I never open my eyes, because I’ve seen enough for one day.
I don’t check to see what car we’re in when he puts me in the broad bench seat of one, coming down on top of me as his hips shove my thighs wider to make room.
His kiss turns desperate as he rips open the front of my jeans, letting the gun tumble out.
“Save it, Dark Romeo. We gotta get out of here before reinforcements show up to kill you all during your celebratory fucks. Besides, a storm is rolling in. Been a while, so it should be nasty,” Sarah chirps as she hops in the front seat.
Rush curses against my mouth, running a hand over his hair as he breaks the kiss for the first time.
I snatch the gun from the floor, shove it in my pants, and start closing them very quickly. In the next instant, he’s off me and yanking me away.
“We need to get off grid for the rest of the night. Should be fine by tomorrow to return to the club, but things are going to get uglier if anyone got word as to who helped me out today,” Sarah adds through the window she’s rolled down on her newest stolen vehicle.
“I came for her,” Rush says, pointing at me. “Not you.”
“Says the only guy I know who could have stolen one of my finest weapons, shot a hole through that chain, and allowed me to kill several very elite fellows in crime-syndicate world,” she deadpans.
I swallow my words, glancing down at Rush’s crotch as he makes another frustrated sound. “You’ve lost your mind. Axle and I never even had the pleasure of seeing you defenseless.”
My mind thinks back to Snake’s smirk, almost as though he really enjoyed that moment of pure, unadulterated power over her life.
This club has gone to hell in a handbasket. I just thought it was jacked in my younger days. Back before therapy told me how significantly fucked we all are, compared to the normal folks living through their nine-to-five grind for the exciting, upcoming weekend.
As I settle in behind Rush on his bike and strap on my helmet, I say, “After you kidnap me for the second time, the place you’re taking me to will be nice, peaceful, quiet, and isolated from the drama that comes with civilization, right?”
With complete seriousness, he answers, “Abso-fucking-lutely.”
RUSH
My heartrate is still too high, and there’s a stinging in my soul to do more damage.
I soothe a little of that by dragging her to me, pushing her hair aside as I kiss down her neck. I get annoyed when I realize I’m splattered in blood. Kara’s not a fan of blood being all over me when I’m all over her.
“What is this place?” Axle asks as he limps toward the pastel flower couch and drops, wincing with the effort.
Maya goes to fawn all over him like the man’s a fragile doll or some shit.
“Just tweaked my knee with that shit landing,” Axle grinds out. “I’m not the kind of guy who drops through ceilings very often.”
He cuts his eyes toward me.
“A little more instruction would have been nice,” he adds.
“I told you to click the button when you were ready to land. It’s a very sophisticated system,” I dutifully inform him. Again.
“One I gave him,” the identity crisis who is on my last nerve says.
“What the hell have you gotten us into now? Who the fucking hell were they?” I demand.
“Anyone want any tea?” Sarah asks from the kitchen.
“No,” we all say in a staggered unison.