Page 47 of Fire Meets Fire

Slugger sighs, his eyes fixed on the woman in my arms. As I check her out, willing her to start stirring, each time I’veseen this I worry that she won’t come around. Just when I’m relieved to see her eyelids fluttering, he speaks. “Well, that’s that then. Any idea of her taking point in a plan to give herself up voluntarily is bust.” He even looks sad about it.

I understand what he’s saying, how dangerous it could be if she just collapsed, but…hang on one damn minute.He’s not thinking about going back to plan A and turning her in for the money without giving her a chance, is he? Once I’ve thought it, that takes foremost theory in my mind and suddenly I’m laying Queenie down, then standing, growling and throwing myself at him.

“You’re not fuckin’ betraying her!”

I’ve arms around me holding me back before my fist can make contact, and a gun pointed in my face being held firmly in Slugger’s hand.

He thrusts it forward, barrel to my forehead and uses it to push me back. I, myself, am still unarmed, else I wouldn’t be letting him get away with it.

“You and I. Outside. Now.”

As I start backing up, a voice calls out, “You need me, Slugger?”

Damn StoryTeller.Is it now I’m going to find out I can’t trust the man? I remember he acted as escort and enforcer to Slugger many times when he was a nomad. Is his loyalty to the Alpha and not myself?

“I can handle him,” Slugger replies, brave man that he is with a weapon held securely. My fists might be good, but they can’t do fuck all against a bullet.

As I walk backward, I find someone has helpfully opened the door, and, unlike StoryTeller, who offered to stand up for Slugger, my enforcer remains in the room with the rest of my so-called brothers.

What if this is my execution?

“Put that fuckin’ gun down and face me like a man,” I snarl as soon as we’ve privacy with the door closed behind us.

“I’d take you on—and win—anytime, Chaz,” he sneers back. “But beating you with my fists ain’t gonna solve anything.”

“You can’t have her.” I wave my hand toward the cabin behind me. “They’re good men in there. Once they understand what you’re planning on doing?—”

His face glows so red it looks like it’s going to catch fire. “And what exactly the fuck am I planning?”

I wave my hands. “You’re going to take an innocent woman and?—”

“Innocent?” he interrupts me again. “No one’s fuckin’ innocent from the moment they’ve escaped the womb.” Before I can counter that, he continues, “I’ve had it up to here,” he indicates his neck, “with you, Chaz. You’re so wrapped up in that bitch you can’t see straight?—”

It’s my turn for an interruption. “I’m not wrapped up in her.” I say the words even though I know Helo’s got to me, so deep, any thought of harm coming to her hurts my soul. “I can’t have you give up a woman who should be revered and respected for what she’s done and what she’s lost for the sake of money to buy a few new Harleys.”

A sly grin comes to his face. “Who said anything about Harleys? Might fancy myself an Indian?—”

Ignoring the gun, I launch at him. He fires a shot that luckily goes over my head but the loud gunfire has the result of at least stopping me.Won’t be much use to Helo dead.

Now, again, he’s got the weapon pointed clearly at me. Gone is the joker. Gone is the man intent on messing with my mind. Instead, in front of me, is the man who clawed his way up to be the Wretched Soulz head.

“Now you’re going to fuckin’ listen to me.” He beckons with his hand not holding the gun and indicates a low wall. “Shut the fuck up and go sit over there.”

I don’t immediately obey, which gets the gun cocked more firmly my way. Unsure if he’d really shoot me, I do read that Slugger’s losing what little patience he has.

Still trying to retain, or regain, the upper hand, I take the indicated seat, then demand, “Okay. I’m listening. What have you got to say?”

“You’re a fuckin’ idiot.”

As a starting point, it’s direct, and I can’t argue he’s wrong. I’ve never acted so much out of character. But I’m not about to show I agree with him, so I just let my eyes rest quizzically on his.

“How long you been prez of your charter?” After asking the question, he shakes his head. “Nah, don’t answer that. Obviously too long and not fuckin’ long enough.”

This time the rise of my brow shows my confusion.

Suddenly his fist bangs down on the picnic table so hard it makes the thing bounce. He’s certainly got my intention when he states, “You’re a fuckin’ moron. You misread your men. You misread me. At no fuckin’ point were we going to turn that woman in.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

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