Maverick (Hell's Handlers MC 2)

“That’s it, babe. Another one just like that, and you’ll feel better.”

“What—have—I—done?” The question came out stuttered with a whistled wheeze between each word.

“Nothing wrong, wildcat,” he whispered against her ear. “Not one damn thing wrong. We gave that bastard nothing more than he deserved. He was a monster, darlin’. And monsters need to be stopped.”

Pressed up against her, Maverick was so warm and so comforting she soon found herself relaxing against him. After a few more minutes, she was able to speak almost fluidly save for the occasional hitch in breathing.

“But it’s wrong.” She lifted her head and stared into his eyes. He was composed, utterly unfazed by what had just occurred. Stephanie had seen death multiple times, but she’d never personally killed someone in the line of duty. And now she’d allowed someone to be executed without a trial. Without due process. Without a verdict and order from a judge.

Mav frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Killing him. We should have called the police. He needed to be brought to justice.”

“What we did was mete out some overdue justice, Stephanie. We sure as fuck brought him to justice.” A hard edge crept into Maverick’s voice, and his face tightened.

“There are rules, laws. There is a way of doing this to ensure he’d pay. I believe in letting the justice system—”

“The justice system? Fuck the justice system!” His grip on her tightened. “You don’t think King and Shark had cops on payroll? You don’t think jury members would disappear, judges would be bribed, and cash would be passed around like a joint in a college dorm? That asshole would have been home free before he ever had to worry about bending over in the shower.”

“But you don’t know that for sure. You have to give it a chance to work.”

“No buts, babe. We took care of shit. We were the justice system. Because of the club, three families will know the scum that killed their babies is six feet under. Because of us, other teenage girls in the area will be safe. They’re fucking trafficking women. We sure as hell rained justice on them. How can you not see that?”

Panic was working itself under her skin, and she fought to keep it from him. “I see it, Maverick, I do, but it doesn’t matter. Right is right and wrong is wrong. Murder is wrong. Vigilante justice is wrong. What if everyone thought like you did? People everywhere would be beating and killing others over every little problem.”

“Murder and rape of three teenagers is not a little problem.” His scowl made his disdain for her statement quite obvious.

“No, I know that. I’m not saying it is. I know he should be punished, the worst punishment the courts can dish out. It just should have been done the legal way. We acted outside the law. Aren’t we just as bad as he is now?” Shit, why couldn’t he see this from her perspective?

He released her and stepped back. Immediately, she missed the warmth and vitality he’d been sharing from his body to hers.

“We are nothing like that scum.” He practically spat the words at her. Fists clenched, his chest heaved. In another circumstance, she might have felt threatened by his aggressive body language, but this stemmed from his worry for her. So, sick as it was, it made her feel cared for. “We don’t go popping bullets in people’s heads for jaywalking or for generally being a dick. This man burned my fucking arm to the bone. He almost raped you. Would have killed you. Did that very same thing to three girls who aren’t even old enough to smoke a fucking cigarette. And you think he deserves to have some asshole in a suit defend him? You think he deserves less than he got?”

Did she?

“No.” This conversation wasn’t going where she’d thought it would. Instead of convincing Maverick the error of his ways, he was twisting her mind and getting her to see his side. “He got exactly what he deserved. But it’s still wrong. And against the law.”

She closed the gap between them and collapsed against his chest, the weight of her sins heavier than lead on her shoulders. “And I participated. I knew you were going to shoot him, and I didn’t even try to stop it. I believe in following the law, in the process we have in place to keep people safe and punish those who hurt others.”

Lightly banging her forehead on his hard pecs, she squeezed him as tight as she dared. How could she do it? How could she go against everything she believed in? Everything she trained for? The oath she took to protect and serve? She needed to leave. Maybe it was some kind of Stockholm syndrome messing with her head or some hero worship for the people who had rescued her.