The guy struggled, trying to shift Nitro’s arms. As he fought, his friend turned around to help him, but Nitro pointed his gun in his direction. “Stay where you are or you’ll stop breathing,” he barked.
The guy ignored Nitro’s threat and immediately lunged at him. Nitro fired, but the guy had ducked low enough when he’d lunged to avoid the bullet. When he landed, it was with enough force to knock all three of them to the ground. A fight then broke out, and I feared that Nitro was at a disadvantage being on his own against two.
Exiting the house, I made my way to where they fought. Nitro’s eyes briefly met mine as he knocked one guy flat on his back before turning to deal with the other guy who was right behind him. I didn’t miss the scowl in his glance, but chose to ignore it. Pointing the gun I held at the guy Nitro had just knocked down, I said, “Don’t move, asshole.”
He stared up at me, his eyes holding a clear challenge. “Or what, blondie?” As he said the words, he moved to stand.
Without hesitating, I shifted the gun so it aimed at his leg, and I pulled the trigger. “Or I’ll fucking shoot.”
“Motherfucking bitch!” he roared, his agony spilling out all over the place.
The gunshot slowed him, but it didn’t stop him completely. Figuring from the way he moved that I must have only grazed him with the bullet, I took aim again. That time, the bullet did what I wanted it to—it slowed him right down, planting him on the ground, clutching at his bullet wound. A string of expletives and threats spewed from his mouth, but my attention had already shifted to Nitro.
“You got a spare bullet there, Vegas?” He had the other guy on his knees facing me. Nitro had his arm around his neck in a vice grip, and the guy struggled for breath while trying to claw his way out of the choking hold.
I nodded. “Where do you want it?”
“In his leg.”
As I took aim and shot, a black van screeched into Nitro’s driveway and two Storm bikers jumped out. Everything happened in a blur after that. Nitro and the two bikers quickly moved the two men into the back of the van and then the vehicle and all the men were gone, leaving me staring at Nitro in surprise.
“Where did they come from?” I asked as he guided me inside his house.
“I saw their bikes on my way back here from Marilyn’s and called King for backup.”
I jumped as he slammed the door closed behind us. Staring at him, I processed the anger written across his face. Anger that seemed to be directed at me rather than at what just happened. “What?” I demanded, tensing for an argument.
“I gave you one directive when I left the house—stay inside.” His eyes flashed with as much fury as his body seemed filled with.
“You needed help so—”
“No, I didn’t. What I needed was to know you were inside away from those assholes.”
“I seem to recall that you asked me to put a bullet in one of those guys after I already did the same thing to the other guy. How is that not needing my help?” God, he was so damn infuriating.
“While I appreciated that, I would have preferred for your safety to not have been compromised.”
“My safety wasn’t compromised so I don’t know why you’re carrying on about it.”
He blew out a long breath and raked his fingers through his hair. “I’m carrying on about it because I don’t want this kind of shit to happen again.”
We faced off, both glaring at each other in silence for a few moments. I was annoyed as fuck at his inability to admit my help was appreciated, but the lawyer in me took the time to think through what he’d said and why.
Finally, the tension in my shoulders eased and I said, “You were worried about me.”
He blinked and his breathing slowed. It took him a beat to reply, and when he did, it came out a little snappish. “Of course I was. The last thing I need is Billy coming down on me because you got hurt.”
I shook my head. “No,” I said quietly, “you were worried about me and it had nothing to do with Billy.”
His face clouded over and he clenched his jaw. “Tatum, we don’t have time to stand around arguing over this. You need to get our ass outside and in my ute so we can find Dustin and Renee and then get back to the clubhouse.” He barked his orders like he was used to them being carried out.
Stepping closer to him, I said, “I’m not sure why you can’t just admit you were worried about me, Nitro. It’s okay to care about someone’s safety.” With that, I pushed past him so I could head out to his damn ute. Bloody men and their inability to admit when they cared about someone.
15
Nitro
“Kick Start My Heart” by Alannah Myles
I’d had enough of Tatum Lee and her argumentative ways. The woman seemed intent on pushing as many of my buttons as possible. Every time I thought we were getting somewhere and that she would just do as I said, she managed to get under my skin, again.
And yet, she fucking impressed the hell out of me. When she’d put a bullet in the Silver Hell member without flinching, and then done it again, I’d watched in awe. I wanted to wring her neck for not staying inside while at the same time, I wanted to rip her fucking clothes off and see just what she was made of.
I wanted to know if she fucked the way she seemed to live—full of passion and fierce energy. And that shit right there sent alarm bells ringing all over the damn place because wanting to know that about a woman wasn’t something that ever interested me.
I turned to her, my hands squeezing tightly around the steering wheel as I thought about her naked body wrapped around mine. “What’s your cousin’s address?”
She’d been silently watching the streets pass by as I drove. At my question, she faced me, a frown set across those gorgeous lips of hers. “Why?”
“So you can check on her.”
“What about Dustin?” Renee had texted just after we’d left my place to say she was at the clubhouse, so Dustin was the only one we still needed to find.
“I’m pretty sure I know where he is. The fact Silver Hell sent two members to my house just now tells me they didn’t send anyone earlier, so I’d say he’s safe and we have time to look in on your cousin.”