White Heat (Lost Kings MC #5)

  Z’s found a weak spot on his side and motions us over while Dex bends it back.

  Z points above us to the camera he disabled and holds up two fingers signaling there are two other cameras on the property.

  There’re no lights downstairs, but that doesn’t mean anything.

  Teller picks the lock on the back door and as soon as it swings open two dogs charge us. No make that two puppies charge us.

  And then lick Z’s hand.

  “Great watch dogs,” Dex snarks.

  Unfortunately one of the Vipers must have been paying attention to what the dogs were up to and rounds the corner.

  “Oh, f—” is all he gets out before Dex shoots him. The Sparrow’s doing its job but there’s still a distinctive cracking sound from each blast as he empties the magazine. Not to mention the thump of the fat fucker hitting the ground.

  “I think you got him,” I mutter.

  Dex smirks as he ejects the spent magazine and slaps in a fresh one. “You’re the one who wanted to use .22 ammo.”

  Viper number two comes around the corner. God damn, these guys have no sense of self-preservation what-so-fucking-ever. Your buddy just took a bullet to the chest, you don’t come barreling around the corner. But that’s exactly what this asshole does.

  Z takes care of him.

  Two down.

  There shouldn’t be anymore.

  A scream comes from somewhere deeper in the house.

  I signal for the guys to follow me. When we determine the living room’s clear, I motion for Z and Dex to stay and keep the two entrances covered.

  More screams. Not television. A girl.

  Teller and I look at each other and nod before creeping down the dark hallway.

  “Please, please, please don’t. Don’t. No. No. No.” The girl’s cries keep getting more hysterical.

  We check each of the two rooms we pass. Empty. The sounds are definitely coming from a room at the end of the hallway.

  “Shut the fuck up.” A man’s voice drowns out the girl’s pleading. Then the definite sound of flesh hitting flesh.

  No. Hell fucking no.

  I know better than to go in blind, but I can’t stand the thought of whatever’s happening on the other side of the door.

  My foot smashes it open and Teller follows me inside.

  A fat, white, flabby ass greets us. The girl he’s on top of is still struggling and kicking. Before I even know what I’m doing, my hand’s around his neck and I’m throwing him to the ground.

  “Who the fuck are you?”

  “Shut up,” I growl at him.

  Teller throws a blanket over the girl and works to untie her wrists.

  I point at her. “Mariella?” Please tell me we have the right chick.

  Her lower lip trembles and her gaze keeps bouncing between me and Teller. Wondering if she’s gone from one nightmare straight into another I’m sure. “Yes.” Her cheeks are red from whatever smackdown we interrupted. Bruises aren’t far behind. “Thank you.”

  Teller backs away from the bed and kicks the guy back into a sitting position.

  “You with him?” I ask her.

  She shakes her head vigorously.

  “How old are you?”

  The guy tries to get up again. “She’s legal. I paid my hour and barely got—”

  “You need to learn no means no, motherfucker,” Teller growls before putting two bullets in the guy’s throat.

  “Did you have to be so messy?” I ask,

  “Hey, you got me using this quiet ammo, wanted to make sure it didn’t bounce off his thick skull.”

  Mariella has her head bowed, as if she’s hoping to fade into the wall and we’ll forget her existence.

  “Grab some clothes. We need to go,” I say to her.

  She looks to Teller.

  Can’t blame her.

  “They took my clothes,” she whispers.

  Jesus Christ.

  Z and Dex stop outside the room.

  “We gotta go, brother,” Dex says.

  “Go look for some clothes for her.”

  “On it,” Dex answers as he takes off.

  Mariella squeals like an unhappy kitten when she spots Z. “Please don’t hurt me. They made me do it. Don’t——”

  “We’re not here to hurt you,” Z says in the softest voice I’ve ever heard him use.

  I smirk at Z. “Guess she recognizes you.”

  Dex returns with a handful of clothes and tosses them to the girl. She scrambles into them and moves between me and Teller. Poor girl’s trembling all over. Finally she glances up at Teller. “Please don’t leave the dogs. They’ll kill them.”

  “Already covered, sweetheart,” Z reassures her. “Let’s get you out of here.”

  We haven't even cleared the bedroom doorway when shots ring out. The four of us hit the ground, Mariella’s tucked up so tight against Teller, she goes down with him. With the noise and explosion of glass and drywall all around us, it takes a second to realize the shots are coming from outside. Automatic fire.

  Drive by.

  For us? Or for the Vipers?

  Doesn’t really matter, I guess.

  “Good call, on the .22s, dick,” Teller snaps as he digs his nine mil out of the holster at the small of his back. My G29, which had been resting comfortably in the holster inside my waistband, ended up in my hands on my way down to the floor. Reflex.

  “What, no cannon?” Z snarks at me.

  One shut-the-fuck-up-and-pay-attention face works wonders on both of them.

  The shots stop, but none of us move, which is a good thing because they start up again five seconds later. They’re coming from the front of the house and feel a hell of a lot closer than the first round.

  Mariella tugs on my arm and points around the corner. “There’s a window in the back bedroom we can get out of. The back yard’s concealed.”

  It’s easier for the five of us to inch our way into the back bedroom than it will be for us to go back the way we came. I nod at Dex and he leads the way.

  We close the door behind us, muffling some of the shooting.

  The pups are tethered to the end of the bed and Z crawls over to untie them. Mariella takes one of the leashes and Z grabs the other. Two skinny little puppies are gonna get our asses shot. Then the darker one licks my hand, and yeah, I ain’t leaving them either.

  Even though there are no windows facing the street in this room, we all stay low. Mariella leads us to the window, stepping on the sill and stretching up until she swipes a key from behind the curtain.

  Z raises an eyebrow at me and I shrug.

  “I found it by accident and I’d been waiting for the right time…” Mariella’s explanation trails off as she hands the key to Teller.

  Girl’s clever and a survivor. Guess that bodes well for her.

  The key isn’t to open the window, it’s to open the bars covering the window. Teller cautiously swings it open and waits a few seconds before sticking his head out. He ducks back inside. “Easy drop to the ground.”

  “I’ll go first,” Dex offers, nudging Teller out of the way.

  No one argues.

  Z slides through next and when he’s out, Teller hands him one of the puppies.

  Behind us there’s a crash. Shattering glass and a whoosh.

  “Move,” I whisper harsh and quick.

  A shrill screech cuts the air, and I’m a little surprised Vipers bothered to outfit this shithole with a smoke detector.

  Teller hops out and pulls Mariella outside. As I’m about to hunch down to fit through the window, there’s another crash directly outside the bedroom door. Smoke pours in underneath the door.

  Shit. They set the place on fire. What if they’re waiting to ambush us outside?

  The thought motivates my big ass through the small window, down to the ground beside my brothers.

  “They must have thrown a molotov cocktail or two,” I explain. “Watch in case they’re waiting for us back here.”


  The words barely leave my mouth before a bullet whizzes over our heads. I mean, right over our heads. So close the stench of nitroglycerin assaults my nose.

  My hand wraps around Mariella’s arm keeping her down, while Teller pops up and gets off a shot.

  Shit. My gaze darts all over the back yard. Dark, shadowy and overgrown. Chain-link fence we came through. What’s our best way out before more Vipers or the cops show up?

  Z points to the fence and we edge our way over. Teller must have hit someone. There’s blood on the sidewalk. No one in sight though so we keep moving.

  We might as well have flashing neon signs on our backs, running down the alleyway with no cover. But we have to get the fuck out of here.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The pups are as eager to get out of here as we are. They both leap into Z’s SUV without prompting. There’s no time to fuss about who sits where. Mariella’s glued to Teller’s side, so she gets thrown into the back seat of my truck with him. I drive us the hell out of the neighborhood watching the rearview to make sure Z’s following.

  Smoke and a faint orange glow flicker behind us. What a fucking mess. It’s not the kind of neighborhood where residents willingly invite the cops to come investigate, so it will take a while before any show up. We should be long gone by then.

  “Mariella, you got any idea who did the drive-by?” I ask. I need to know if it was Viper or someone else.

  “No. Guards are supposed to check in every forty-five minutes. If they don’t call in on time, someone automatically comes to the house. They’ve had trouble with a local gang and a few customers, but I don’t know much more.”

  Yeah, she was going through her own hell. I don’t want to scare her any more than we already have. Honestly, I’m eager to turn her over to Hope and Trinity and let them deal with her.

  She doesn’t complain. Doesn’t even ask where we’re taking her. I guess anywhere’s better than where she was.

  When we’re outside the city limits, I dial Trinity.

  “Are you okay?” she answers.

  “Everyone’s whole.”

  I swear I can feel her sigh of relief over the line.

  “I need you to get a room ready. Can you two meet us at the door? We should be there in twenty.”

  “Okay. Love you.”

  “Love you too, angel.”

  “Was that your ol’ lady?” Mariella asks.

  Since I don’t know this chick yet, I’m not comfortable talking about Trinity with her. Even though they’re about to meet in a few minutes. “Yeah.”

  “That’s nice how you talk to her.”

  I don’t know how to respond. Glancing in the mirror again, I catch a glimpse of her. Something familiar I can’t quite place.

  “You’ll like her. She’ll get you settled,” Teller adds.

  There’s not a whole lot to say after that.

  Trinity and Hope are waiting outside when we pull up.

  “Mariella?” Hope asks. Her tone’s awfully kind considering this chick’s the reason Rock’s locked up.

  I lift my chin at Trinity and signal her over. “What’s wrong?”

  “It was ugly. We walked in on her being attacked. Sounds like they were pimping her out.” I leave out the bullets and fire.

  “We should take her to a doctor.”

  Fuck me. “I’d rather not parade her around in public right now. It wasn’t a smooth extraction.”

  Trinity makes a face at me.

  “Fine. Ask her what she wants to do.”

  “I can run her down to the clinic in the morning. They can treat her under a fake name. We’ll pay cash—”

  “I can’t have you taking any trips alone with her. I don’t trust her and—”

  “I figured,” she says in her you’re-working-my-last-nerve-but-I-love-you-anyway voice. She glances over to where Mariella’s huddled up behind Teller. He doesn’t seem to know what the fuck to do.

  “What’s that about?” Trinity asks.

  “He shot the guy attacking her.” I answer because it’s not like she won’t find out anyway.

  “Ah, okay.” She jumps up and gives me big hug, then squeezes my face between her palms. “I love you.” Before I have a chance to respond, she slides out of my grasp and marches over to Mariella.

  “They brought home a girl and two dogs?” I’m shaking with laughter as Z emerges from his SUV with a pup tucked under each arm.

  Hope laughs too. Next to us, Mariella’s quiet and clinging to Teller.

  “What?” Z lifts his chin in Mariella’s direction. “She said they’d hurt the pups. Besides, we can use some guard dogs up here.”

  He’s got a point and they are pretty stinkin’ cute. Z sets them down and they run straight to Hope who kneels down and coos all sorts of puppy nonsense words at them. I squat down and snap my fingers and one sniffs his way over, nubby tail wagging like crazy.

  “Aw, they like you girls,” Z says.

  “Careful, Hope. He’s gonna try to make us clean up after them,” I mutter loud enough for the guys to hear. Her mouth lifts in a half-smile but she doesn’t say anything.

  Z slaps his hand over his chest. “I’m hurt, Trinity. Hurt.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” I stand and turn, holding out my hand to Mariella. “Come on, I’ll set you up in a room upstairs.”

  Her eyes dart between Teller and me. I guess she finally decides I’m safe and she follows along.

  “I’ll be up in a few, Trin,” Hope calls out after me.

  Mariella’s not here for a vacation, so I don’t bother with a tour of the clubhouse. “I’m Trinity. If you need anything, let me know.”

  “The big one. You’re his woman?” Mariella asks as we walk upstairs.

  “Yup.”

  “He’s nice.”

  I wonder if she bonked her head at some point tonight. “That’s not how people usually describe him.”

  She chuckles. “No, I bet it isn’t.”

  Opposite Rock and Hope’s end of the hallway there are a couple rooms free. They’re not as fancy as the officer’s rooms, but I doubt Mariella will mind.

  “I’ll put you here. But the guys can be loud and obnoxious, so don’t get freaked out. No one will bother you.” I point to the door next to hers. “Teller’s sister stays in that room when she’s up here.”

  “Where’s your room?”

  “Downstairs.”

  “What about the other woman outside?”

  “She’s our president’s ol’ lady. Their room’s down there.”

  “Oh my God.” Mariella wanders into her room and drops down onto the bed. “Her man’s in jail because of me.”

  “We can talk about that tomorrow. Why don’t you get some rest? The sheets are clean. There’re towels in the closet and the bathroom’s right outside.”

  “Do you take care of the house?”

  “Yeah, but I’m not supposed to anymore. Wrath wants…well, he wants me working on other stuff. But if I don’t do it these guys will starve to death and live in sticky sheets, you know?”

  Mariella chuckles and nods.

  “Listen, Wrath sort of explained what kind of situation you were in. Do you want me to take you to a doctor tomorrow?”

  She stares up at me with wide eyes. “You’ll let me?”

  “Yeah, of course. One of the guys—probably Wrath will go with us for protection.”

  She folds her hands in her lap and drops her gaze. “Yes.”

  “Okay.”

  I give her baggy jeans and oversized shirt a more critical look. “I’ll find you some clothes. There’s a washer and dryer on this floor—”

  “I’d rather throw this out,” she says, gripping the hem of her shirt.

  “Gotcha.” I cock my head to the side, trying to decide if I want to ask my next question. “How’d you end up with the Vipers?”

  She stares up at me with big, watery brown eyes. Underneath the marks on her face, chest and hands, she’s a beautiful girl. “My brother.??
?

  Shit. We need to figure out how deep her loyalty to that demented MC runs and it seems I’m the best person to do it. “He a patch-holder?”

  She snorts. “No. He was a hangaround. A wannabe. Always running his mouth. He screwed up some deal for them, so they took me as collateral to motivate him. They gave him one more chance and he still fucked it up. They killed Eduardo and kept me.”

  Christ, that’s fucked up. Surprising? Not at all. “I’m sorry. Do you have any other family?”

  Her mouth turns down and a few tears roll down her cheeks. “Not anymore.”

  “Listen, I’m not one for touchy-feely, let’s-talk-about-our-past-trauma stuff, but I grew up in a club like the Vipers. So I understand you’re probably terrified. But Lost Kings aren’t like that. No one will bother you here, so don’t worry. These guys won’t hurt you.”

  She nods. So solemn for her age, which I peg at about twenty or twenty-one. “I figured that out downstairs. Vipers don’t joke around with the women. Backtalk like that would have gotten me belted in the face.”

  “Yeah, well, these guys enjoy a challenge.”

  “Won’t they expect—”

  “No. The only thing they expect you to do is take back your false testimony against Rock. They’ll protect you and keep you safe until then. After, you can figure out what you want to do.” I want her to understand that the guys won’t shoot her and drop her in a ditch as soon as they get what they need out of her.

  “Did they rescue you?”

  “Sort of. Not really. I rescued myself. But later, yeah. Definitely.” Our conversation’s starting to make me twitch. I don’t want to talk about this stuff with a stranger. I can barely talk about it with Wrath. Where the fuck is Hope? Didn’t she say she was coming upstairs?

  Right on cue, she taps on the slightly open door. “Hi, Mariella.”

  Mariella’s big brown eyes plead with me not to leave her alone with Hope, so I perch my butt on the edge of the dresser. Hope seems to appreciate my presence too. This is fucking awkward all around.

  Hope, ever the professional, holds out her hand to Mariella. “I’m Hope. How are you?”

  “Okay,” Mariella mumbles while snatching her hand away and focusing on her lap again.

  Hope turns her head my way and I shrug. “Do you need anything?” she asks Mariella.