Rose (Road Kill MC #3) (9 page)

Noose

I finger my rope like a talisman.

That's just how tied I feel to my weapon. No pun intended.

We move through the woods, leaving the potential for buffoonery to some of the brothers who like to ride in like the cavalry. They can step into the caboose of the train that we three will ride.

The stealth is me, Wring, and Lariat. Snare's a good brother, but he’s too noisy for my plan.

I don't wear my cut, boots, or anything bulky. Clothes tight to the body can't be pulled or used in close quarters. I might have to use my fists.

I know I'll use my rope.

The three of us go in—against an unknown number. Sounds like the sandbox to me.

Wring drills me with his eyes. Lariat’s on point. He nods.

Ready.

We move forward like a well-oiled machine.

A shrill scream reaches my ears. My heart stops.
Young, pre-pubescent. No fear—playing.
The tension in my shoulders relents.

Wring rolls his eyes, making the hand signal for forward.

I tap my chest. He waits.

My eyes move through the dense tree cover and spot Charlie immediately. A wave of relief rolls through me.

I spot two guards flanking a kickass log house. Charlie seems safe.

Lariat and I exchange a glance, and he indicates he'll stay here, keeping Charlie in sight.

I nod.

Wring and I use the trees like a corridor to the log house.

The guards never see us coming.

Just how we like it.

*

“Not long till they know we've silenced their guys.”

“Yeah,” I say in a low voice.

We inch closer to the bay window. I take in a fucking breathtaking interior.

Flesh trafficking must be doing well. Intel says this is like an elaborate holding tank for moving women. Beauty sometimes hides rot.

When I catch sight of Rose, my breath stops. She's crying. Some fuck with his back to me stands in front of her; Drake to his right.

She backs up, and Drake follows.

Motherfucker.
I don't realize I've moved until Wring's hand is on my arm. “Hang tight, Romeo.”

I spare him a glare.

“Surprise is our number-one advantage,” he reminds.

He's right, the fucker.

My lips thin. Watching mouths move and Rose's anguish from a distance without knowing what's being said is fucking with me. Bad.

Drake grabs her arm, and I tense as he drags her away.

Wring jerks his chin in the direction they're headed.

I follow his gaze.

Basement.

We move.

*

Rose

Snot is running from my nose, and I trip as Drake drags me down the steps.

He laughs, jerking me up. I stumble, righting myself against his chest and yelping, trying to jerk away from touching him.

Noose.

My eyes widen, taking in his form like seeing a mirage in a desert. My hope, disbelief, and love coalesce like living fire, and I breathe in his presence like tasteable heat.

Then Noose is moving, catlike, as his right arm snaps out. The bulbous knot whips in the air, and his left catches the other side. He jerks the rope back like he’s moving through water, and the twine captures Drake's throat.

Drake had been turned toward me, reveling in my klutzy descent as well as my naked fear and despair in knowing what awaits me in a dungeon used to hold women.

I grasp a wooden railing, seeing another man join Noose.

Tall, hard and muscled with nearly colorless hair shaved close to his scalp, he scours the room with indifferent, piercing bright blue eyes. They land on me.

I open my mouth to scream as Drake makes inarticulate sounds, clawing at his neck, trying for Noose behind him.

“Shhh, Rose,” the other man says, and I snap my mouth shut as he steps forward.

The muscles of Noose's forearms striate like banded twine as he works the rope deeper. I watch the scene play out like I'm under hypnosis.

White dots fill my vision, and I sway
. Not happening.
Not. Happening.

Strong arms grab me, forcing me to sit. A gentle hand pushes my head between my knees. “Breathe, Rose.”

I suck stale oxygen into my lungs then blow it out. A dangling knot appears at my feet. Full of blood.

I cough. Gorge rises. I swallow my fear.

“Let me take her.”

The other man's hands leave my back.

“Rose,” Noose says softly.

The knot drops, a smear of blood like a comma marks the concrete floor.

“Babe, it's okay. I've got ya.”

Vague noises startle me awake. A gunshot sounds as though from a great distance.

I meet his eyes. Pale gray, hard like flint, they’re tender like a dove's wings. “Noose,” I sob, and he pulls me into his arms. “It's Ned!”

He pulls away, searching my eyes. “I got ya. What?”

“You've made some real problems for me, Rose.”

Noose tenses. Our gazes slide to the top of the stairs. “My house is filled with Road Kill. Not enough Chaos in the world to wipe that stain from here. But I can do you.”

Noose is silent.

Ned shows his other hand, whipping Charlie around his body, holding Charlie by his neck. Dirty tears streak his face.

A moan eases out of me.

“Let the boy go.” Noose's voice is terribly vacant.

I hear Ned's death in it.

“I'm leaving, with the brat. You follow me, I'll kill him.”

“He's yours!” I cry, forcing him to see reason.

He raises the gun to my face, and I turn into Noose's shoulder, hating that Charlie will see me murdered.

Murdered like Anna.

Charlie's shrill cry pierces the air.

*

Noose

I feel Wring like a wingman at my side.

Fucking Ned.
Should have trusted my gut when it was crawling with unease.

He points the gun at Rose, and my balls crawl.

Charlie screams just as the blade sinks home. A skull shot is one of the hardest to execute.

Wring does fine.

I shove Rose out of the way and leap for the kid.

Ned's face is a mask of comical surprise, then he begins to convulse. A blade will scramble the brain on impact.

He begins to topple, reactively clutching Charlie tighter. The boy squirms, but Ned's body is already spasming.

I throw myself up the landing, ribs taking a lot of the bruising impact, and capture Charlie as Ned tumbles like a bowling pin down the stairs.

The kid wraps his arms around my neck and hangs on for dear life.

Wring jumps, pressing Rose against the rough stone wall as Ned falls on top of Diablo's corpse.

Couldn't have planned it better myself.

My eyes meet Rose's. The gratefulness in her gaze, I expect.

The love is even better.

Noose

Eight months later

“I don't want to say it, but you actually look handsome, brother.” Snare snickers like a girl.

Fucktard.
“Uh-huh.” I give him the middle-finger salute and adjust the bow tie. Again.

Ever notice some Poindexter who's got a perfectly aligned bow tie? Well, that's a piece of bullshittery off the old crap cake.

“You look good enough to kiss,” Wring adds like the ass that he is.

“Don't you douches have something better to do?”

Lariat shakes his head, appearing to think it through. After a few second he says, “Nope. Sitting here flipping you shit is an excellent hobby, brother.”

Jes-us.
“Fine.” I grit through my teeth. “If you can't be helpful…”

“Ooh,
helpful.
” Snare flutters his eyelashes.

A soft knock at the door has us turning. Vince opens it, putting his nose through. “Showtime, gents.”

I feel a shot glass worth of better that Prez is trussed up like a turkey too. Perfect. My tux feels like it's harboring a grudge against my nuts, and I've never tied a noose that felt like the bow tie at my neck.

But it's all worth it when I see Rose.

She's all creamy goodness, wrapped in a long dress with little jewels all over her awesome tits.

I'm sort of grumpy that she didn't let me see her before the wedding, but now I know why.

She's a breathing, walking, talking wet dream. One I hope to never wake from.

Her honey hair cascades down her back in soft curls. Her dark eyes are on me. And it’s just a feeling, but I think Rose would kill me if I popped a boner while I walk down the aisle. Hard not to, given how sexy she looks, knowing that she's mine.

Vince tries covertly to adjust his bow tie, and I suppress a smile, moving toward my soon-to-be bride.

It hasn't been the fairy tale girls dream up. It's been eight months of hell. But there's a cherry on top of our dessert.

Charlie is hers—officially.

Funny thing? Drake never showed up for his next court-appointed hearing.

Imagine that.

And Judge Jetson just up and resigned his position one day. Said justice wasn't his thing.
Not anymore.

Getting to know Rose's parents was an uphill climb. Didn't hurt that the kid loved me. Hell, I think I might love two people now. Rose made it clear she was a package deal.

Charlie still has nightmares about the “bad men.” We encouraged him to tell his grandparents.

Their eyes were big when they understood what went down. Whatever wasn't clear, I filled in for them.

They liked me better after that. Hard not to feel grateful for the man who saved your other daughter from the first daughter's murderer.

Rose holds out her hand, and I take it.

I lean next to her temple. The soft murmurs of the crowd swirl around us like expectant white noise.

“I don't know if you should be wearing white, the things I've done to you.” My lips sweep her temple and the barest hint of my tongue touches her warm skin.

Her face turns beet red, but she whispers, “Technically, it's cream.”

I raise her hand to my lips, tilting my face against the top of her hand and rubbing it like a satisfied cat, my eyes locked on hers.

The priestly dude waits.

Then he marries us.

My Road Kill brothers don't cry, but it's like rain in the air. I can smell it before it comes.

*

Rose

Noose lays his head against my swollen belly.

“That's a roller!” he yells. Then he quickly covers the baby's elbow, leg, or whatever body part shifts underneath my naked skin.

“I can touch him,” he says, voice filled with wonder.

I nod. It's a miracle.

I know I became pregnant that first time we made love. “You made an honest woman out of me, Noose,” I say, loving him for marrying me. Just loving him.

He shakes his head. His dark-blond hair slithers over my body, and the sensation causes a long sigh to slide out of me. “You were always honest, Rose.”

Our eyes lock while heat swirls between us like fragrant steam. “Am I too far along for what I think you want?”

“And you don't want it?”

I laugh. “Arrogant bastard.” I smack him, and he grabs my hand, adds it to my other, and presses my wrists behind me.

“Your parents have Sir Charles…” His eyebrows give a suggestive tilt.

I laugh harder. “You
can't
get away with calling him that. It's only Dad who's allowed.”

“Hmmm.” He gently scoops me up and turns me over.

I automatically position myself on my hands and knees as his hand runs from my nape to my bare butt. My pussy grows wet.

“You're so hot, all pregnant and shit. With my kid in there.” His breath is warm on my back. His finger presses deep, and I move my hips back against him. Noose kisses each bone along my spine then lays his face on the small of my back. The stubble along his jaw is erotic abrasion, and I shift, loving the coarseness as his fingers move inside me.

“Love you, Rose. Glad you saw reason and we tied the knot.”

I hear the smile in his voice, right before he slowly and expertly pushes inside my wetness.

“Noose,” I whisper as he rides me gently.

“Don't want to hurt the munchkin.” His voice is tight. His prick is a hard long weight inside my body. I clench my muscles around him, and he picks up speed, not pounding but using deep strokes to stretch me.

Delicious weight builds, and his finger moves to my clit. “That's it, baby, come for me.”

Sure strokes and an expert finger have me yelling my orgasm, spasming around his length. Noose thrusts a final time, checking himself at the last moment as deep throbbing jets fill me and we come together, this man who sheltered me from the storm of my life and brought me a new one.

We're safe, Charlie and me, safe from the evil that almost ruined us. Noose made sure of it.

He finally withdraws, and his fingers trail down my side. With an arm, he guides me into the shadow of his body, and we lie together. Not speaking, just being.

Noose's hand finishes its journey, and like he can't help it, he splays his fingers over my distended belly. Then both his hands mound my breasts. He kisses first one, then the other.

“This is the best part about you being pregnant, babe.”

“Please!” I say, mock punching him. “I thought you said it was that I couldn't get pregnant? Or how about this one—”

Noose puts a finger over my mouth. “I just love you. Love your tits, love my kid in your belly, love that you're mine. Think it's hot as fuck that you're knocked up with my kid.” He smile is gentle.

Noose is more tender than when I found him.

But still fierce.

It's on his face—his desire to protect me. Protect his unborn child. To protect Charlie.

“I was so scared,” I confess, momentarily shattering the peaceful moment.

Noose doesn't get angry that easily, but his brows come together in irritation. “We got off. That's what's important.”

“The police held you. What if they get charges to stick eventually?”

He kisses my hand in reassurance—his new favorite thing—right above the ring he gave me. Noose sometimes stares at the sparkler when he thinks I don't notice.

I notice.

The perfect princess diamond glitters from a nest of smaller, channel-set ones. A simple narrow platinum band makes up the wedding band.

“We lawyered up, babe. Chaos Riders? We did them a favor. Diablo had gone rogue, they wanted to squash his ass, and Ned was extorting money from their scam—working both clubs.”

“Now they can't run girls. Who do you think they'll blame?” I give him a significant look.

Noose shrugs. “Don't sweat it. They still have guns, drugs, and other bullshit to push. Some good came out of it. At least that door's been closed. Thank Christ.”

I shiver. All those girls, lost forever. And after Drake got done with me, I would have been one of them.

Not married to Noose with a baby on the way. No, I would have been just another girl sold into slavery. I shut my eyes, burying my face against Noose's strong body.

I'm on maternity leave from the bank. Ned's replacement really is married with a family. Not some trafficking psycho.

Noose wants me to stay home.

We'll see. Right now, Charlie is settled in the condo, and the house bought with Anna's insurance money is on the market. Not secure enough, Noose said about our old house.

I like starting fresh.

“What are ya thinkinʼ about, babe?” Noose runs his tongue down my neck, and I shiver.

“How much I love you.”

“Good,” he says, sitting up on his elbow. “Stop worrying about that shit, Rose. The boogeyman's dead. You got Charlie.” He pops his thumb on the flat planes of his heavily muscled chest then lays his hand gently on my stomach.

I smirk. “You're just looking for an excuse to touch my belly again.”

Noose smiles. “Always.”

He gathers me close. I don't know what the future holds. Only that Noose is a part of it. And that's enough.

THE END

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A standalone
Road Kill MC
novel

Coming May 2016!

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