Bjorn: Teutonic Knights MC (28 page)

Honey picked up a lounge chair and swung it viciously. Peyton jumped back, the chair whooshing past, just missing her. As Honey stumbled, off-balance from the swing, Peyton dove in again, grabbing the chair as Honey tried to swing it back.

With an almost inhuman scream, Honey began to push, her legs pumping, driving Peyton back with the chair between them. Peyton dug in, trying to hold her ground, but Honey’s had her off-balance. She took three fast steps back, trying to get her feet under her, but the last step met nothing but air.

With a cry of surprise, she went into the pool, instinctually holding the chair as she tumbled backwards into the water. Honey, caught by surprise, couldn’t release the chair fast enough and went in after her.

Ironside burst through the gate just as the two women went into the water. He skidded to a stop as he watched them twist and turn as they sank in the deep end, Honey trying to pin Peyton to the bottom with the chair. He stood, his heart pounding, watching Peyton grab her opponent by the hair, holding her down as they fought with the chair between them. He wasn’t a strong swimmer, but he had to do something because it was clear they were going to drown each other. With a snarl of anger and fear, he began ripping his clothes off.

He kicked his last boot off and jumped into the water, stroking hard toward the bottom. Peyton was on her back against the bottom with the lounge on top of her, holding Honey by the hair with one hand, her wrist with the other.

He reached the bottom, pulled himself down by the arm of the chair, braced, then heaved, shoving both women and the chair toward the surface. The women broke apart, releasing each other as they stroked furiously for air, the chair beginning to sink again.

Peyton and Honey broke the surface at nearly the same moment, drawing in air with huge gasps, Ironside appearing a moment later. Honey threw herself on him, driving him under again as she tried to scramble from the pool.

Andrew skidded to a stop as the Knights poured through the opening. There was no way he could get to Bone in time. He turned and began to run back toward the women, intending to use Peyton as a shield. He saw Ironside furiously tearing his clothes off then jump into the pool.
A weapon!
He put on a burst of speed, banging through the gate just as the three of them burst to the surface.

Ironside saw Andrew erupt through the gate and instantly knew he was going for his gun. Honey was pulling herself out of the water, but Peyton had grabbed her legs, trying to draw her back into the pool. Peyton was going to have to take care of herself because if Andrew reached the gun first, they were all dead. He burst from the water, hauling himself out as Andrew reached his clothes. He began to turn, gun in hand as Ironside charged, driving through him until they slammed into the fence.

Andrew roared in rage and pain as Ironside drove him into the decorative metal fence that surrounded the pool, the metal bars almost breaking his back. He tried to bring the gun down on the back of Ironside’s head, but Ironside caught his wrist before he could deliver the blow. The men growled in effort as they strained against each other, Ironside leaning in hard to keep Andrew trapped against the fence. Andrew twisted, allowing Ironside to bring his arm down then drove a left into Ironside’s ribs. Ironside took the blow with a grunt, then smashed his hand against the fence.

Andrew cried out as his hand popped open, the gun clattering to the concrete surrounding the pool. Ironside went for the gun, but Andrew shoved him away, making him stumble. As Andrew bent for the gun, Ironside realized he couldn’t recover and reach the gun in time, so he dove in again, kicking it away under the fence before driving his knee up.

He’d intended to knee Andrew in the face, but he was rushed and the blow caught him on the chest instead, standing Andrew up but not injuring him. Andrew fired a hard right into Ironside’s stomach, making him woof out air.

Ironside backed off, getting a little distance between himself and Andrew. He’d been on defense since Andrew went for his gun, but it was time to get on offense.

Andrew smiled as Ironside backed off. “So, down and dirty? That’s fine by me! Come on, you fucker!”

***

Peyton held to Honey’s legs like a limpet as she strained to drag herself out of the pool. With Andrew here, she couldn’t depend on Ironside to help her, and she couldn’t let Honey escape and get the gun. She put a foot against the wall of the pool and shoved, throwing herself back and dragging Honey with her.

Peyton turned loose of Honey’s legs, then grabbed her by the neck and shoulders, driving her under and holding her down as Honey struggled. Honey slipped her hold, bobbing back up and gasping for breath, but Peyton pushed her under again, riding up high on her shoulders. She smiled grimly, sensing Honey’s increased desperation, but then screamed in pain as Honey drove a fist in her pussy. She fell back, and Honey popped up again, spluttering and gasping as Peyton tried to throw off the pain. The shot to her womanhood had hurt like
hell,
but the water had slowed Honey’s punch enough it wasn’t a debilitating blow.

***

Andrew took a step forward, throwing a jab, then another, range finding. Ironside ducked both, then blocked the cross with his shoulder, using the opening to drive a hard right into Andrew’s gut with a meaty thud. Andrew woofed out air then backed off. Ironside followed, ignoring the shouts and pops of gunfire all around them and the splashing and screams of Peyton and Honey in the pool, watching Andrew, waiting for his chance.

Andrew bulled in, throwing a left, right, left combination Ironside could only partially block. He stumbled back, his head ringing from the right that got through. Andrew pressed his advantage, throwing a right that Ironside took on the shoulder, then a hard left, that he ducked. With Andrew off-balance from the hard swing, Ironside put everything he had into the left to Andrew’s rib, twisting to get his back and shoulder into the punch. Andrew roared, stumbling back, as he tried to cover, but then charged in again.

Ironside tried to set and take the charge but he didn’t have time to get fully ready. Andrew was big and strong and drove them hard to the concrete. Ironside wrapped his legs around Andrew, getting the palm of his hand under Andrew’s chin, forcing his head back, snarling in effort as he tried to snap his spine.

Andrew bellowed in pain, his hands going to Ironside’s face, his thumbs searching for the eyes. Ironside screamed, releasing his head to tear Andrew’s hands from his face. The two men twisted and squirmed, their hands battling for advantage, tearing at the other as they hissed and snarled, each realizing this was a fight to the death as they grasped each other’s throats, their arms locked straight, their legs still battling as they sought to destroy their foe.

***

Honey lunged away from Peyton and stroked for the edge, wanting to get out of the pool before she drowned. Peyton grabbed for her as she hauled herself out, but she kicked her away and ran.

Peyton pulled herself out of the pool, running after her prey. The gate slowed Honey enough she could catch her, grabbing her by the hair and dragging her to a stop as she turned, their feet tangling. They went to the grass in a ball, scrambling and rolling, kicking and screaming as they rolled and tumbled. Honey screamed in pain as she twisted, wrapping both her hands in Peyton’s hair. Peyton hissed, her face a mask of pain as they rolled, coming to a stop on their sides.

“Remember the pit, bitch?” Peyton hissed. She released Honey’s hair with one hand and began to throw left after left into Honey’s side. It took several blows, but finally Honey cried out in pain, shoving hard against Peyton and forcing her to her back. She released Peyton’s hair and threw her own punch, a solid blow to Peyton’s cheek.

Peyton cried out in pain, shoving Honey back before she could hit her again. Honey tumbled away, then sprang to her feet and ran.

“No fucking way,” Peyton growled, jumping to her own feet and racing after her.

***

Andrew threw himself back, giving up his hold on Ironside, but breaking Ironside’s grip on his neck at the same time. He tried to get to his feet, but Ironside was there, knocking him down. He scrambled back again, just getting to his feet as Ironside bulled in. Their bodies slammed together with a dull thud, Andrew digging in as Ironside tried to drive him back, each man pushing and shoving with their hands, trying to get under the other so they could lift them and drive them to the ground.

Ironside screamed in agony as Andrew grabbed his cock and balls and twisted them hard. He tried to break away, but that only hurt more, so he grabbed Andrew the same way. Both men screamed in pain as they tried to tear each other’s cocks off, engaged in a contest of strength and pain tolerance.

***

Peyton chased Honey as she ran toward a room. She burst into a room and tried to slam the door, but Peyton got her shoulder against it before it could latch. The women strained against each other, grunting and panting, the shouts, cries and occasional suppressed pistol shots from the battle raging around them ignored. This was the final stand, the place where only one club would walk away.

Slowly Peyton forced the door wider, then wider still, before it suddenly burst open wide. She stumbled into the room, off-balance from the sudden release in resistance. As she recovered, Honey tackled her, driving her sideways onto the bed. They squirmed, Honey’s legs wrapping around Peyton as she pulled her in close.

“You fucking bitch!” Honey snarled as they panted. She had Peyton tied up at the moment, but she couldn’t do anything with her.

“Fuck you!” Peyton snarled in reply, straining again to break free of Honey’s hold.

With a cry of effort, Peyton forced herself out of Honey’s grip, throwing herself back. Honey came after her, the women rolling off the end of the bed and thumping to the floor. The fall broke them apart, and they scrambled to their feet. Peyton fired a desperate left, trying to drive Honey back, but it had little effect. They crashed into the dresser, Peyton crying out in pain as the sharp edge dug into her ass. She went red with rage, the pain and anger finally overwhelming her control.

Peyton screamed, more animal than human, as she began to swing wildly. Honey screamed in return, her face crazed with anger, pain and fear as she charged through Peyton’s wild swings, so enraged she didn’t even feel the punches any more. They went to the floor again, the two women intent on destroying each other. They would finish it here, in this room, when only one of them was left alive.

***

Andrew broke first, shrieking as he ripped his cock from Ironside’s grip. Both men staggered a moment, reeling from the pain they had inflicted on each other, before Andrew turned and ran. Ironside gave chase as Andrew blasted through the gate, turned sharply to the left and went for the gun. He’d just slid to a stop to pick it up when Ironside arrived. Never slowing, he hit Andrew at a full run, lifting him from the ground as he powered through him, then drove him hard to the ground.

The two men tumbled then bound to their feet and turned toward each other. They waded in, swinging wildly, willing to take a hit in order to deliver one. There were no rules, no surrender, no retreat, their humanity stripped away by their rage and pain until they were nothing but a pair of bulls fighting to the death.

They stood, toe to toe, pummeling each other, Ironside slowly driving Andrew back as they punched and blocked, falling into a clinch, driving their fists into the side of their enemy before breaking away to punch again.

His face bloody, Andrew fell back after another crushing blow from Ironside. He scrambled back, then leapt to his feet, needing to get some space. Ironside charged in again, hitting him hard, the two men crashing through the waist-high hedges that ringed the edge of the courtyard. Andrew cried out as the limbs ripped his flesh as they fell, then scrambled, kicking away from Ironside, trying to get to his feet before his opponent could attack again.

Ironside struggled to his feet, wiping the blood from his face as it tried to run into his eyes and blur his vision. Andrew crabbed backwards, then got to his feet, his fists up. “Come on!” he roared, but then turned and ran.

Ironside felt a chill. Less than a hundred feet away there was a body lying in front of an open door, clearly Andrew’s destination. He bolted after him, running hard. Andrew stopped by the body and grabbed the dead man’s pistol, tearing it from his lifeless grasp, and turned.