Page 91 of Tuck & Roll

“What are you going to do with the woman?” Chief Whitener asked.

“Aw, Chief. Don’t tell me you’re getting squeamish on me now. You’ve known all along how things would end for the pretty lady.” Chet moved closer. “You’ve been helping me try to get rid of her from the beginning. You found the man to set her house on fire.” He stopped within five feet of where the chief stood. “You patched me up when I tried to take her from that behemoth biker’s house. And just tonight, you followed her to a tittie bar and ordered a raid so you could get your hands on her and bring her to me.” His hands settled on his hips. “So, tell me, Chief, why the change of heart?”

She watched as the chief unsnapped the holster at his side, his hand settling on the butt of his gun. What was he doing? Was he going to shoot Chet and let her go?

“Watcha doin’, Chief?” Chet might be smiling, but it was anything but friendly.

“I think I’ve made a mistake bringing this woman to you. I’m going to take her back and let her go,” Chief declared. Did she hear him right? He was going to bring her back and let her go? Hope blossomed in her chest.

“I don’t think so. I’m taking the woman with me,” Chet informed him. His smile never faltered as he slowly took another couple of steps closer. Did the chief see how Chet’s hand was slowly moving to his back?

“Chief Whitener, please let me out. Let me out now.” Kylie spoke loud enough to be heard by the chief, but not enough to startle him into doing something stupid. Like draw on Chet. She didn’t know how good the chief was with a gun, but she bet Chet, the much younger and meaner of the two, knew exactly what to do with one.

The chief pulled his gun and stepped out from behind his door.

No, no, no, no! Don’t do that! Kylie screamed in her head.

The chief barely cleared the door when Chet pulled a gun from behind his back and leveled it on the older man. He didn’t hesitate as he pulled the trigger twice. Kylie was helpless to do anything but watch as the impact of both shots hit the chief, his body jerking before falling to the ground. She was in such shock, she didn’t have time to scream or wonder if the officer wore a kevlar vest or not. Chet came stomping to the police car, stood over the sheriff and fired a shot. Satisfied that the man wouldn’t be getting up, he pulled the back door open and roughly yanked Kylie out of the car. His grip was punishing and would likely leave bruises on her arm. Right now, she didn’t care about the bruises as long as she stayed alive.

She knew the club would come looking for her once they discovered she was missing, but would it be too late? Would they know where to look? Would she ever see Tuck again?

“Where are we going? Where are you taking me?” She raced to keep up with Chet’s quick pace.

Chet didn’t answer nor look at her. He simply continued to drag her to the car, pop the trunk and shove her inside. She did her best, kicking, screaming and scratching. All without success. It did earn her a swift punch to the face. Her last thought before everything went black was she would have loved to have seen her baby one time before she died. She bet he would have been as handsome as his father.

16

As soon as Tuck made it home and through the front door, he knew immediately Taylor wasn’t pulling her crap. She was standing in the kitchen, bent over in the middle of a what must be a contraction with her teeth clenched tight and gripping her belly.

“Hurry, Tuck. The baby’s coming,” she groaned.

“I didn’t think you’re contractions were supposed to be coming so hard this early in labor.”

She shot a guilty look his way. “Well, I’ve been having contractions the last several hours and then my water broke and the contractions started coming every fifteen minutes, so I thought, oh shit, this is it and I called you.”

The one time she should have called him and she didn’t. “What’s that?” He pointed to a huge puddle in the middle of the floor.

Taylor glanced to where he was pointing. “That’s where my water broke.”

“Oh.” He’d worry about cleaning that up later. “Come on. Let’s get you to the hospital.” He hurried to her, one hand on her elbow, the other around her back, guiding her toward the garage.

“I thought you had another week before the baby came.”

“I’m so sorry my water breaking and the baby trying to shoot out of my vagina is ruining your fuck fest with your girlfriend,” she snapped. She stood next to his truck eyeing it like she’d like to take a hammer to it. “Why did you have to get a truck raised so high? If I raise my leg to climb in, the baby might shoot out.”

He highly doubted that would happen, but didn’t want to tempt fate and chance it. He picked her up and placed her in the passenger seat, secured the seat belt, ran around to the other side and hopped up behind the wheel. He hit the garage door opener and wanted to cuss a blue streak when the stupid thing took it’s time rising. As soon as it cleared the top, he backed out in a rush and hit the remote on his visor to shut the garage, not bothering to see if it closed.

“Stop!” she shouted.

He stomped on the brakes, her loud command scaring the shit out of him. “What?! What’s wrong?”

“My phone. Go get my phone. It’s on the counter on the charger.”

When he didn’t immediately hop out of the truck, she shouted, “Now! And hurry.”

“Fine.” He slammed the truck in park, hopped out and raced inside to grab her phone. As he picked it up, it lit up, notifying her of a message from Michael. “Who the fuck is Michael?” Could he be the father of Taylor’s baby? He’d soon find out.

Back in his truck, he handed Taylor her phone, shifted into reverse and backed into the street. From there he shifted it into drive and hit the gas. “How far apart did you say the contractions are?”

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