Viper (Hell's Handlers MC 9)

About five miles from the bar, when they were certain Marco hadn’t sent guys to tail them, Sarge pulled to the side of the road at an overlook. Though the urge to flip him off and keep on riding was a tempting one, Viper pulled over as well.

He had a thing or two to say to his so-called brother.

As Sarge did, Viper stopped the bike but didn’t kill the engine. “Stay here, baby,” he said as he swung his leg over the seat. “Don’t get off the bike.” Cassie stayed seated, mouth pressed into a thin line of displeasure.

“Viper—”

“Don’t. Get. Off. The. Bike.” Cupping her face, still with dried blood and emerging bruises, he gave her a soft kiss. It wasn’t often, if ever, that he ordered her around. They didn’t work that way. Cassie was an intelligent, independent woman who didn’t need him to hold her hand through life. A woman like that wouldn’t have lasted with him anyway. He had no desire to lord power over his woman. That being said, he had no problem taking charge in times of crisis and Cassie respected him and them enough to yield to him if he truly felt it necessary.

“I’ll be right here,” she whispered with an exaggerated pucker.

Chuckling, he kissed her again.

“I knew you couldn’t resist all this beauty.” She winked a slightly swollen eye without even flinching. The injection of humor was her way of letting him know she was all right. Still, she had yet to see herself in the mirror and would understand his anger once she did.

“Baby, you’d be beautiful no matter what.”

Her sweet smile followed him as he turned in time to see Sarge hang up his phone and climb off his bike.

“Woo!” The other prospect hollered, pumping his fist in the air. “Fucking rush, am I right?”

Sarge jogged closer, practically levitating off the road. The man’s smile and obvious fucking glee at the events that just transpired were the last fucking straws. Viper clenched his fists, took two long strides and met Sarge’s face with a satisfying crunch.

Pain bloomed in his knuckles and ricocheted up his arm. He welcomed it. He’d put his trust in this man. He’d trusted him with Cassie.

“Fuck!” he screamed as he cocked his fist once again.

“Viper, don’t!” Cassie shouted from the bike.

With a grunt of pain, Sarge staggered backward. “What the fuck, V?” Once he regained his footing, he assumed a fighter’s stance.

Game fucking on.

“The fuck were you thinking, asshole? Having me bring my woman there? You realize what almost fucking happened to her? I fucking trusted you.”

Christ, the image of Marco’s mouth on Cassie’s was now burned into his psyche, set to torment him for the rest of his days.

And that was the least of what had almost happened.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

1983 - TENNESSEE

They were going to kill each other. Though Viper instructed her to stay on the bike in his rarely used uber-serious tone, how could she sit by and watch them fight?

She couldn’t. Not when she already felt responsible for the night taking a turn for the shittastic.

Cassie blew out a breath as she darted off the bike and toward the two prospects facing off like boxers in the ring.

For crying out loud, why on earth had she taken that bet? Maybe one day, she’d look back on it as a foolish decision of the young and stupid, but tonight all she felt was regret and guilt. And disgust, there was plenty of that too. Mostly from Marco’s mouth on hers. A toothbrush and the kind of mouthwash that burned the hell out of her tongue couldn’t come fast enough.

She should have taken a cab home when she had the chance.

Viper charged forward and so did Sarge, but before they collided in a heap of fists and outrage, she jumped between them and spread her arms. Two hard chests slammed into her palms, sending a ripple of discomfort up to her shoulders. She held firm, pushing outward with all her might. Sure, she couldn’t out-strength them, but she could damn well try. Angry as she was at Sarge, she refused to watch them try to kill each other on the side of the road.

“Stop it!” Cassie screamed, shoving hard against each of them. “Stop this bullshit right now!”

Sarge lifted his hands in surrender, then interlaced his fingers behind his head as he turned and strode away with a curse.

“Cassie…” Viper breathed as though he’d just finished working out.

She stepped into him, placing both hands on his chest. Looking into his eyes she rubbed her palms up and down. Heat radiated off him, more than usual thanks to the anger and adrenalin. “I know. I know. I didn’t listen, but Viper, you two can’t beat the shit out of each other.” Even the insanity of the messed-up night couldn’t stop her from appreciating the firm muscles under her hands. Were circumstances different, she’d slip her fingers under his T-shirt and see what kind of mischief they could get up to. But tonight she had other priorities. Mainly ensuring these two didn’t murder each other. “You’re both already a mess and this won’t make you feel better.”