Gentle Curves (Dangerous Curves Book 4) (12 page)

“What about them?” Ace asked, not even the slightest bit anxious to hear the answer.

“According to Warren, they’re fucking together again is what!” Trigger punched the wall again. “Can you fucking
believe
it? I mean, we were clear, were we not, when we told the bitch to stay the fuck away from him?”

“We were clear,” Ace agreed.

“I thought so. And she said she would. Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Nobody gets to walk away from us,” Trigger said, a glint in his cold blue eyes. “
Nobody
and
especially
not women who are club property.”

“I know.”

“We still own her, whether she wants to admit it or not.”

“Right.”

“So.” Trigger pulled himself up to his full height. “We need to remind her of this fact.”

Bang on cue, the terror roared through Ace’s body.
Fuck
! If anything happened to Mirrie, then Liam was going to send the gun to the cops. And who knows? Maybe he’d even let the world know that Ace was as deep in the closet as it was possible to be and if
that
happened, Ace was a dead man. Hell, he probably wouldn’t even get to jail for killing Wheels Jordan. His gay ass would have disappeared off the earth long before he ever saw the inside of a courthouse.

OK, he had to gain some control over this situation and right the fuck now.

“How do we remind her?” he asked, trying to stay calm. “What are you thinking, man?”

Trigger shrugged and headed for the door. “Not sure yet. But it will definitely involve both of them – her
and
MacIntyre.”

Ace went for casual, almost disinterested. He even took a sip of beer. “You want to kill them?”

Trigger turned and stared at his VP in surprise. “Of course. That’s a fucking given, man.”

Ace watched his President slam back down the hall to the bar, hollering for Rawls to give him a fucking bottle of JD, shouting at Doors, Fife and Joker – also known as Donovan Kane – to find MacIntyre and Mirrie
right now
. Ace heard Joker’s raised voice, heard the angry questions. If anyone was going to make it a point of honor to find Mirrie, it was her brother.

The terror had settled in Ace’s chest now and frozen him solid. He was sure that there’d be no putting Trigger off from making sure that nothing but harm came to Mirrie and MacIntyre this time, and Ace had no more cards to play. No ace in the hole, nothing up his sleeve, no smoke-and-mirrors, no bargaining chips. No fucking moves. Game over. Game over all the way, baby.

Well, actually – that wasn’t strictly true, was it? He had exactly one move. It was the
only
one and as he contemplated it, he knew that it had been a long time in coming.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He threw back his beer and stared straight ahead, his mind whirring and twisting. He needed to plan this carefully and he had to know what Trigger was up to. He needed to stay in control, but it was like trying to balance on a tightrope while holding an elephant in his arms.

Ace wondered if
this
time was the time that he’d go crashing to the ground at maximum velocity; if so, he hoped it was all over quickly. But if truth be told, he knew that was too much to hope for.

Chapter Thirteen
Three days later

Spider gave the front counter a final wipe-down and switched off the espresso machine. He looked around, checked that all the windows were closed and locked. He went in to his office to grab his jacket and he heard the door open, heard heavy footsteps on the wooden floor. He went back in to the café.

“I’m sorry,” he said politely. “But we’re clo-”

The rest of the word died on his lips. Standing there – as big as life and twice as gorgeous – was Ace.

“Oh, my God.” Even though he’d been waiting for this and he knew that he had to act shocked to pull it off, Spider still almost fell backwards with the
real
shock of seeing him. “Oh, my… what are you
doing
here?”

“Hey, Liam.” Ace almost smiled, kicked the urge down hard. “How you doing?”

“I’m – I’m…” Spider looked around wildly, half-expecting the rest of the MC to leap out at him and kick his face in. “What’s going on?”

Ace turned the café lights off and the room was plunged in to shadow and gloom. “Nothing good.”

Spider blinked and took another step backwards. “Why are you here?”

“To tell you what’s happening. You need to give Mirrie and MacIntyre a heads-up, Liam, OK?”

“Why?” Spider stared at him, still unable to believe that Ace was here and doing precisely what Jack had said he would. “
Why
?”

“Because Trigger knows they’re together again. He’s fucking furious and he’s gonna make his move tonight. You need to let them know and you need to get them to King’s Men, OK? Just get them someplace safe until I can figure out how to make this all go away.”

“Holy fuck,” Spider whispered.

“I know.” Ace’s dark eyes were dead of any and all emotion. “So do it fast, alright? Do it now.”

“I will.” Spider pulled himself together. “I’ll – I’ll call Mirrie.”

“And the gun?” Ace forced out the words. “You’ll – you won’t send it anywhere?”

Spider looked up sharply. “
That’s
what this is about, huh? It’s got nothing to do with stopping the murder of two innocent people, does it? Oh, no. It’s all about saving
your
ass. Right?”

Ace hesitated. “Well, yeah. I mean, I don’t want to go to jail…”

“You
deserve
to go to jail,” Spider hissed. “You killed a man.
More
than one, actually.”

Ace shook his head tiredly. “Liam, c’mon. No need to have this conversation again, OK? I just want to know that you’ll hang on to the gun.”

“As a thank you for your selfless act?” Spider spat out. “For getting Mirrie and Mac out of harm’s way?”

“Yeah. What’s wrong with wanting a reward for putting my neck on the line and blowing up my President’s plans?” Now Ace was getting angry too. “Do you have
any
idea what Trigger’d do to me if he knew that I was here? That I was keeping those two enemies of the MC safe?”

“Oh, let me guess.” The contempt dripped from the words. “He’d – kill you?”

“Slow and painful.” Ace gave him a tiny smile. “He’d make sure that I begged for him to kill me… and then he’d deny me the relief and reprieve and carry on until he drove me insane. It’d go on for days, Liam. It’d go on forever.”

Spider stopped, amazed at the stab in his heart at the thought of Ace being tortured and hurt. Dammit. He still loved the man and for just a few seconds, he let himself remember Ace in his bed, in his arms, trembling in the throes of an orgasm.

Oh, shit. No, no, no. Don’t go there.

“Fine.” Spider snapped out the word. “The gun stays hidden away, alright? Now, get the hell out of here. Go beat the shit out of someone or rob a bank or something, yeah?”

Ace moved to the door. “Just get them someplace safe, OK? And remember that I did this for them. Make sure King knows.”

“Oh, sure. I’ll report back that you’re a fucking Boy Scout now.”

Ace opened the door, then turned to gaze at Spider, his dark eyes soft and gentle, just for a few seconds. “You look good, sweetheart.” And with that, he was gone.

Spider stood for a minute, completely not believing what had just happened. Then he rushed to the door, locked it and backed in to a corner. He pulled out his cell phone and called King, his fingers shaking.

“King? It’s Spider. Yeah, Ace just left here.” He paused, listened. “Yeah, it all went exactly as Jack said it would. He warned me – asked me to warn Mirrie. He said it was going to happen tonight.” Another pause. “Yeah, tonight.”

**

Mac turned off Mirrie’s cell phone and stuffed it in his duffel bag. He hoped beyond hope that she wouldn’t notice it was missing and if she did, he hoped she’d think that she left it at work again.

“You all ready to go?”

He jumped, looked over his shoulder at Mirrie standing in the bedroom doorway.

“I sure am, babe.” He swung the bag over his shoulder and she shook her head.

“I can’t believe that you’re going to live out of a duffel bag for a week,” she said. “Can you really get everything you need in to it?”

Mac grinned, trying to slow down his racing heartbeat. “Sure I can. All’s I need are jeans and t-shirts and a toothbrush. Everything else is at the hotel.”

“Pj’s?”

“I sleep buck-naked, sweet thing.”

“Hmmm.” She was momentarily thrown by that delicious information, then refocused. “What about your oh-so-official white doctor’s coat?”

He waved his hands. “I always just borrow one from the hospital where I’m doing the consultations.”

“Huh.” Mirrie thought about that. “Smart, I guess, in kind of a freeloadery kind of way.”

Mac pretended to be indignant. “I don’t
keep
the coats – I always give ‘em back!”

“Good man.”

He walked over to her now, struggling to not tell her anything about what was about to happen. If it all went right, she’d be spared most of the details. If it all went wrong, he’d be dead and she’d never forgive him.

“I love you,” Mac said, his voice hoarse. “You know that, right?”

Startled, she peered up at him. “Sure I do.”

Mac nodded, reminded himself to act normal. “So… I’m off to the airport.”

She kissed him and he was thrown back to an hour before when they’d been in bed together. The bed was still unmade, the sheets rumpled from their lovemaking. Mirrie’s hair was tousled, her eyes bright, her smile perfect.

“Safe travels,” Mirrie said. “Call me when you get to New Orleans, OK?”

“I will, babe. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

It took everything in Mac’s body to turn around and walk out the front door of his apartment, knowing what was waiting for him. Knox, Honey and Jack were parked on a side-street outside and they’d sent him a text that Joker and Doors were in an unmarked van and they were waiting. Waiting for him or for Mirrie, whoever came out of the building first – and Mac was determined that they’d get him.

He heard Mirrie lock the door behind him and he relaxed when he saw King, Valentina and Lilly standing at the end of the hall at the top of the stairwell. Their guns were drawn and they were all strapped in to Kevlar.

“Keep her safe,” he said quietly. “Please.”

“We will, man,” King said. “Nobody’s getting in here to your girl, I swear.”

His throat too tight to say anything more, Mac tried to smile.

“And you take care now,” King added. “Remember, this whole thing has gone exactly to plan so far. All you have to do is stay alive long enough for me to do my part.”

“I’ll do my best,” Mac said, taking a stab at levity. “But it’s not totally up to me, is it?”

Sombrely, they nodded. Yeah, that much was true and everyone knew it.

Two minutes later, Mac stepped in to the deserted side-street just off the main road where his building was. Trying to look calm and unhurried, he walked to his car. He’d just unlocked the driver’s side door when it happened.

The blow to his head – though anticipated – still brought him to his knees with its power. He found himself staring at the ground, blinking stupidly as booted feet kicked him in the middle of his back over and over until he fell forward and sprawled on to his chest. Quickly, as he and King had discussed, Mac curled up, trying to protect his vital organs and face. Immediately, the kicks became harder, stronger, more targeted.

“You are fucking
unbelievable
, dickhead.” Mac didn’t know if it was Mirrie’s brother speaking, but he
did
know that the man’s voice was pure venom. “Did you and that bitch
really
think that you’d get away with it?”

Mac shut his eyes tightly as the second man joined in the kicking; Mac just willed himself to keep breathing. Jack’s relentless study of the situation had led him to conclude that the Fallen Angels wouldn’t kill Mac – at least not right away. No, it made far more sense to Jack and King that Trigger would take Mac, hold him hostage, take some time to torment him.

Jack had said that Trigger was, in his deepest, darkest core, a sadist and that he liked nothing more than hearing people beg. He got off on the pain he inflicted, on seeing the terror of his victims, on having control over their life and death. The notion of having Mac at his mercy would be far too tempting for Trigger to resist, Jack had concluded, and they’d moved ahead on that assumption.

So Mac would get hurt, they’d had no damn doubt about that, maybe even hurt badly, but Mac had said that he could handle a beating if he had to. After all, his childhood had been nothing but one long beating at the hands of his father, so although he wouldn’t enjoy getting smacked around by the MC, he’d survive. Assuming King and his people came through.

It seemed to go on for a long time, but Mac supposed it wasn’t more than a minute. That was when one of the men smashed the back of Mac’s skull with something heavy – most likely the butt of a gun – and he fell headlong in to blackness.

Mac’s last coherent thought was how grateful he was for it to be him this was all happening to this time, and not Mirrie. But this was how Mac and the others had arranged it, after all. Mac was the one they wanted taken, Mirrie was the one they wanted kept safe. That was why they’d pretended to send Mac to New Orleans on short notice for an emergency patient consultation: it was the easiest way for him to disappear without alarming or alerting Mirrie. He just prayed that she’d forgive him the lie.

Now all the chess pieces were in place for the devastating final few moves... and all Mac could do was hope that King would be the one to say checkmate.

Chapter Fourteen

Knox, Honey and Jack watched silently as Joker and Doors threw Mac’s inert body in to the back of a van and took off. They exchanged tense glances and then Knox sighed as he looked at the laptop in front of him. The blinking dot told him that the tracker on Mac’s arm was working perfectly. He spoke in to his headset.

“King?”

“Go, man.” His boss’ husky voice came back right away. “They took him?”

“Yeah.”

“You see him on the system?”

“Yep. Whatever they did to him, the tracker’s still attached to his skin.”

King hesitated. “How bad was it?”

“Hard to say,” Knox said. “We couldn’t see what actually happened, but he’s out cold now.”

King cursed, took a deep breath. Yeah, OK, this had been part of the plan and everyone knew that this would happen to Mac, but that didn’t mean that King was happy about the situation. The thought that one of his closest friends had been beaten unconscious by some MC assholes made him furious. He stepped down hard on that feeling, though: getting emotional wasn’t helpful in this line of work. In his experience, getting worried and angry almost always led to making stupid mistakes... and mistakes got people killed.

“Roger that,” King said calmly. He turned to Lilly and Valentina. “You two stay here, keep eyes on that apartment door. You see anyone try to get in to Mirrie, you take them down and I don’t give a fuck how you do it.”

They nodded.

“I’m going to go with Jack and we’ll follow the tracker. Honey and Knox will stay outside and watch the building doors at the front and back and the apartment windows. You guys all stay in constant communication with checks every two minutes at most. We clear?”

“Clear,” they said and in King’s ear, he heard Honey and Knox confirm.

“Jack? I’m coming out now. Switch vehicles and pick me up out back, next to the service entrance.”

“I’ll be there in thirty seconds, boss,” Jack said.

“Good.” King checked his watch. “Let’s go get Mac and bring him home to his woman in one piece.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Jack said.

“It’s the
only
plan, man,” King said. “The only one that I can fucking live with.”

**

The first thing that Mac felt was pain, intense and throbbing. His head was killing him, his back ached, his face felt swollen and wet. He tried to move, realized that his hands and feet were bound. He lifted his head, groaned, forced his eyes open.

“Well, hey there Sleeping Beauty.”

Mac sighed, not at all surprised to see who was standing there. “Trigger.”

“The one and only.” Trigger’s face was cold as he gazed down at Mac. “You stupid fucking idiot, MacIntyre... was her pussy worth it?”

He felt the rage start to build and reminded himself to stay cool. His job now was to keep Trigger talking, to give King and Jack time to get to him. So let the stupid fucker prance and preen a bit, play his game for a while... what would it hurt in the end? Nothing, that’s what.

“
More
than worth it,” Mac rasped now. “Not that you’ll ever know, MacGee. Mirrie will never let you within ten feet of her.”

“Who the hell says I want her?” Trigger said, amused. “A fucking traitor? A slut and cunt? No thanks. I got plenty of sweetbutts hanging around the club and they’re all mine for the taking.”

“Good for you,” Mac said.

“It sure is.” Trigger heard something behind him and glanced over his shoulder. “Oh, Ace... where you been, man? I thought you were gonna miss all the fun.”

Ace walked in to the warehouse and blanched when he saw Mac tied to the chair, bloody and dirty.
What in the actual fuck?
He’d just left Spider a few hours earlier, specifically told him to warn Mac and Mirrie to prevent this exact fucking situation from happening – and here it had happened anyway. Panic hit him in the chest, hard and hot, and he fought to look calm.

“I had a bitch to fuck and she wanted a third round.” Ace walked closer, stared at Mac and tried to get in to the spirit of the thing. “You fucking moron... why couldn’t you just stay away from our property?”

“Mirrie’s
not
your property,” Mac spat at him. “She never was. She’s hated everything to do with you for her whole life, and she couldn’t get away from you shitheads fast enough.”

“Well, she didn’t get quite far away enough, did she?” Trigger said in a silky tone. “And she
still
ain’t far away enough. We’ll be seeing her soon, so don’t you worry about that. We’ll be getting reacquainted with the little bitch.”

“Don’t you touch her,” Mac growled. “You lay one goddamn finger on her and I’ll hand you your asses, I swear to Christ.”

“Yeah?” Trigger stepped forward, backhanded Mac smartly across the face. “How you planning on doing that from that chair, man?”

Mac grinned at him even as blood trickled down his chin. “I’ve got my ways, MacGee.”

Trigger laughed but Ace felt uneasy. Something about Mac’s behavior was... off. He knew that MacIntyre was a self-satisfied, arrogant, rich doctor prick, but still. Shouldn’t the man be losing his mind right about now? If not for his safety, then for Mirrie’s? Instead, he seemed to be taking great delight in insulting Trigger, getting a rise out of him. Why, though? Trigger was a stupid, dumb fuck, so of course he hadn’t noticed that their supposed-prisoner was being weird, but Ace was on high-alert.

Trigger’s cell rang and he glanced at the number. “It’s Joker. I got to take this, so keep an eye on this idiot, Ace. Feel free to smack him around, if the mood strikes you.”

Ace tried to look enthusiastic. “Sure thing, man.”

Trigger left the room and they heard him talking in the hallway. They stared grimly at each other.

“You fucking moron,” Ace said at last in a low voice. “You have no idea what you’ve done, do you?”

Mac blinked innocently at him. “No. What have I done?”

“You’ve killed her
and
you. Jesus, man... I remember you at Curves just a couple of years ago, ploughing through the pussy like a goddamn machine. Why couldn’t you keep your dick away from the one bitch who would lead to all of this?”

“Why do you care?” Mac asked. “What’s it to you if you have to kill me and Mirrie? It’s not like we’d be your first, huh?”

“Not even close,” Ace said through clenched teeth. “But this isn’t just about you.”

“So who else is it about?”

“Shut up,” Ace snarled, starting to panic now. “Just shut the hell up.”

Mac obliged, watching Ace closely. Yep, the man was losing his damn mind and for real. Now that Mac was here and Trigger was fixing to kill him, every single one of Ace’s emergency exits had just slammed shut. Mac watched him desperately try to think how the hell to get out of this situation, watched as he reached the conclusion that there was no way out. Trigger was doing every single thing that Ace didn’t want him to do – and life in prison for killing Wheels Jordan was looking pretty fucking good right now, Mac imagined. But really, the more likely ending that Ace foresaw was his violent, brutal death at the hands of his ex-brothers for daring to be a gay man.

Or maybe not. You may still get out of this, Ace, if this fucking tracker stuck to my arm is working. And if King can pull this off.

Trigger came back, smiling widely. Right away, Ace knew that it had to be about Mirrie and he seriously thought about puking.

“Joker’s very excited about seeing his dear sister again,” Trigger said to them. “It’s gonna be quite the reunion, I think.”

Now Mac did show a flash of fear. “You mean he’s got her?”

“Not yet,” Trigger said with a sneer. “The light just went off in your apartment so Joker figures she’s just gone to bed. He’s gonna wait on my call in about two hours and then go on in and get her. I can promise you he won’t be asking nicely for the bitch to come with him.”

Mac didn’t even hear the last three sentences that Trigger had uttered: all he cared about was that Mirrie was still safe. The terror that had washed over Mac receded, just a bit, and he knew that things had to happen quickly now. If Donovan Kane was outside his apartment, then King’s Men knew that good and well and they’d have told King that the clock was ticking down. After all, the last thing they wanted was for Mirrie’s brother to make a move and force their hands.

If he did that, then King’s people would stop him, of course... but then when Joker didn’t report in, Trigger would be tipped off that something was wrong. Or worse, Mirrie would hear something, open the door, see King’s Men quite possibly shooting her brother in the goddamn head. Then, naturally and logically, she’d be very damn curious why King had a bunch of armed bodyguards standing outside Mac’s apartment. No feasible explanation was possible, clearly, and she’d know that something was seriously wrong. From there, nothing good could happen for her. She’d be terrified and worried and above all things, Mac was going to spare her this, if he could.

“You stay away from her,” Mac said softly, buying time and holding Trigger and Ace’s attention. “You guys did your damage to her five years ago. Let her be, Trigger. Please.”

“Oh, ho, ho!” Trigger said. “Did you hear
that
, Ace? We finally got a ‘please’. I was really starting to wonder about your manners, Doc.”

Ace managed a weak smile.

“You almost killed her,” Mac said, taking this opportunity to say all the things to Trigger that he’d wanted to for years. If all went to plan, then he wouldn’t ever get another chance, he knew. “You fucking wrecked her body, man, broke her in to pieces, left her for dead. What kind of men do that to a woman?
Especially
a woman they’ve treated as a sister for years?”

“She had it coming,” Trigger said, not one iota of emotion in his face or voice. “There’s only one way to leave the Fallen Angels, and that’s in a body bag.”

Ace shuddered.

“She knew that,” Trigger continued. “She knew all the rules, she knew all the roles and responsibilities. What the fuck did she
think
was going to happen? Huh? We ain’t a democracy, we ain’t interested in anyone’s individual or special feels about a topic. I say what goes, everyone does it, no fucking questions or lip or attitude. And
that
little bitch? Well, she thought she was above it all. She thought she was better than the rest of us.”

“Better than
you
, you mean,” Mac said, his voice dripping with malice. “And newsflash, asshole: she was. She still is. You pricks did your worst and she not only survived, she thrived. She made a whole new life and she’s strong and amazing and beautiful. She’s fucking light-years beyond you animals. She’s so far past you that you’re never going to get to her again. I won’t let you so much as touch her baby toe.”

Trigger’s face contorted and he punched Mac hard enough to snap his head back. Dazed by the blow, he shook his head, then tasted blood. It filled his mouth and he spat it out, taking care to aim at Trigger’s boots.

“You’re really pushing me to hurt you, huh?” Trigger grated out. He reached behind him and picked up a tire iron, smacked it against his palm a few times for effect. “Well, dickhead, it’s your lucky day, ‘cause there’s nothing I’d rather do and I got no other plans.”

Mac braced himself as Trigger came at him now, his arm raised. He held the other man’s eyes, determined to not cower or back down. Mac wasn’t giving this sick, twisted jerk the satisfaction of seeing him afraid or supplicant. He’d die before he handed even one ounce of his power to this animal.

When the shot echoed around the abandoned warehouse, Mac
did
close his eyes, though. Just for a second and only in relief. That shot was the sound that heralded the end of Mirrie’s nightmare... and Mac thought that he’d never heard anything so beautiful.

By the time Mac opened his eyes again, Trigger had dropped his arm and was staring down at his chest wild-eyed. King’s aim had been perfect, Mac saw now, and he watched the blood seep through Trigger’s t-shirt, knew that there was nothing to be done. Not that they’d do anything to help him, anyway. Helping him was definitely not part of the plan that night.

Ace unfroze now and moved to his President. “Trigger!”

It was as if hearing his name made it all real for him. Trigger sank to his knees, clutching his chest now, gasping. Ace grabbed his shoulders, pulled him up a bit.

“Trigger!” Ace stared in to the man’s blue eyes, watched as the light in them went out. He’d had enough people die in front of him to know what that meant. “Oh, God... no. Trigger! Come on, man. Hang on.”

But it was no use, no good. Trigger fell forward, hard, and his dead weight made Ace stumble. By the time Ace got to his feet, King and Jack were standing in front of him, their guns aimed right at his head.

“Hey, Ace,” King greeted him. “Exciting night, huh?”

“What the – “ Ace stood there, stunned and off-balance. “King. What are you –”

King totally ignored his sputtering and came over to Mac. He knelt down in front of him, his gray eyes taking in the blood and bruises. He shook his head, pulled out a knife and started to cut Mac free.

“You OK, man?” he asked.

“I’ve been better,” Mac said. “But I
am
damn happy to see your ugly face.”

“I’ll remind you that you said that the next time you give me grief.” King’s tone was light but his face was pure rage. “So I guess I’m your white knight and savior, huh?”

“Bah, dream on,” Mac huffed. “I had it all under control, Kingston.”

“Yeah, it sure looked that way from where I was standing,” King said dryly.

Mac got his feet under him and started to stand up. He winced as pain shot through every part of his body and he took a shuddering breath. Without a word, King reached out, pulled him in close. The men embraced for a few seconds, silent and still, then King pulled back and gently punched Mac on the shoulder. He winced again, even at that playful tap.

“I’m sorry I had to let it go on for so long, Mac.” King’s face was apologetic. “I had to wait until he was coming at you with a weapon, or he was beating you damn near to death.”