Page 53 of Never Wed an Outlaw

The most unlikely hero in the world stood there like a giant, ready to rip apart anything that got in his way. Ismiled, letting the insanity of the night finally take over.

However fearsome, however stubborn, however insane...he was all mine.

After everything that happened, it meant the world.

10

Laying Claim (Dust)

Awhole week went by since we wiped up their blood, dragged their bodies deep into the Smokies, and fixed Hannah's landscaping with our crew. I'd barely left her place to run the club.

Thank Christ half the brothers were away on their honeymoons. But it was only a matter of time before Skin and Joker came back to raise hell, assuming the others didn't start to first. I'd brushed off Sixty, Lion, and Tin when they called to check on me.

Firefly hadn't sent me shit. Long as he cleaned the guns and ran the patrols, he kept his distance, too pissed over me and Hannah to come knocking over me disappearing for a few days.

Maybe he wondered why I had so many prospects pulling double duty. They'd keep their mouths shut if they wanted to earn their bottom rockers. If even one person squawked about doing extra patrols this side of town, near his sis' place, there'd be hell to pay.

For her, I'd paid the devil's toll several times over. Wouldn't hesitate to do it again.

Once you killed for a woman, something primal went off inside, an urge to destroy every last motherfucker who came around threatening her life.

Hannah mostly stayed in her room, or worked on her computer, frantically messing with her software. She wanted to rip apart the money laundering scheme at the roots and get her app back on track as a legit one.

The Sicilians probably realized she'd broken her chain. That meant I had to hit them first, before they could get it together and come digging for their dead men.

Our attack goal came easy. Finding out where to hit them, and how...I'd rarely met as big a bitch as the problem staring us in the face.

Wasn't easy doing research, just Hannah and me, desperately seeking out a lead on where they called home. Six days in, I wanted to tear her fancy place apart, knowing it was only hers because she'd built it under the gun. Worse, we couldn't find the bastards who'd made it possible, and mortgaging her life on death threats.

“You look terrible, Dusty. Take a walk,” she said, looking up at me over the computer, wearing her glasses. “I'll stay here and work. We'll run into something sooner or later. Nobody keeps a clean nose online. A little more detective work, just a little while longer, and we'll have them.”

Easy for her to say. She knew a lot about proxy this and deep web that. More than I'd know about computers if I gave up riding tomorrow and spent every waking hour at the keyboard.

Right now, only thing I knew for certain, I wanted to take her to bed wearing nothing except those thick black frames around her eyes.

“Keep the candle burning, darlin'. I'm going for a ride,” I told her. “I'll make sure the prospects hang out by the gate 'til I'm back. You stumble across a miracle that leads us to 'em on that thing, you let me know. I'll be back in thirty or forty.”

Chances were, we wouldn't sniff out the Sicilians today. Too bad.

The longer they stayed hidden pushed everything back – briefing the club, dealing with the fallout, coming to make them pay in blood.

Patience,I told myself. Just a little while longer, like Hannah said.

Nobody hid forever. This club had tracked and slaughtered more bastards who deserved to die than anybody else in the state. Meanwhile, there was another problem I could solve today, one with a solution a whole lot clearer.

First, I headed home. Took me about twenty minutes to dig through the old tool crib in my garage. Besides the ratchets, hammers, and drills, I kept a few handguns locked up, plus several ghosts from the past.

Found the little ring box lurking underneath some old newspaper. It was wrapped up in the same faded articles Ma put around it last year when she gave it to me. She said I should keep it safe, in case 'something happened' – the phrase she used for worrying about her own mortality.

I'd snorted at her then, scoffed at the whole idea of holding onto my grandma's wedding ring. She told me to shut up and take it because she didn't have any use for it anymore. Because, one day, I'd find a girl worth giving it to.

Seemed impossible at the time. Now?

Fuck.I, Daniel Grayson, had officially fallen to his knees.

Went down hard. Foaming at the mouth to end forty odd years of bachelorhood. The man who'd always pushed cupid down like some yappy little dog had his arrow lodged deep, and that shit was poison.

I couldn't go on without seeing this old gold band on her finger. Couldn't breathe easy every day Hannah wasn't wearing my ink. Fuckin' her blew my brains out, but I wouldn't truly own her 'til I saw that ring against my dick every time she wrapped her fingers around me. Love wouldn't mean what it should 'til I bent her over, took her from behind, and saw PROPERTY OF DUST tattooed on her shoulder, her ass, wherever she damned well pleased, as long as she wasmine.

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