*
Cash stood, surveying the carnage around him. They had barely reached Molly’s Valley in time. If Viper hadn’t called the brothers in from Ohio and Stud’s men hadn’t arrived in time, ready to battle, they wouldn’t have been able to stop them.
As it was, three Last Riders from Ohio were killed and two Blue Horsemen. Rider had been shot in the arm while Cash had received a knife cut on his cheek and was grazed by a bullet on his shoulder.
All of the men looked like they had been through a war by the time Train killed the last of Scorpion’s men.
Willa won’t be making that bastard a pie anytime soon, Cash thought vindictively.
“You all right?” Cash asked, helping Viper to his feet.
“Yeah. You?”
Cash nodded, taking off his brass knuckles and slipping them back into his pocket. Both men watched as Homeland Security secured the facility.
“At least the taxpayers won’t be paying to house these dead fuckers,” Viper sneered, kicking Scorpion’s dead body. “Tell everyone to head home.”
Cash spread the word, and the brothers from Ohio headed back there while the rest went back to Treepoint.
He was anxious to see Rachel and make sure she was all right. The last he had seen of her was when he made sure Rider had followed his orders to get her away as fast as possible.
He made a quick stop in Jamestown to drop off an envelope filled with cash to Connie. The woman deserved it for stopping what could have been a tragedy and saving Rachel’s life. He was unlucky enough to find her there. Suffering through her grateful hug, he left hurriedly when her hand went to his crotch. His gratitude didn’t include a mercy fuck.
“Call me,” she had yelled from the door of the bar.
Cash had to remind himself to be nice, that she had saved hundreds of lives keeping radiation from being released, but it was still difficult when she called him, trying to get him to turn back. He almost threw his phone away, turning her down instead.
He had to stop by Knox’s office to file the report he’d promised Homeland Security. Viper and the others had gone on ahead, leaving him to take care of the details. He had to bite back his disappointment at finding Rachel had already left. He was becoming more aggravated by the moment.
It was almost dark before he pulled up in front of Mag’s house. He was sore and tired, but he just wanted to make sure Rachel was okay and hold her. Then he would give her fucking hell for leaving him this morning. If she had stay put, she would have been out of harm’s way.
He climbed off his bike, coming to a stop when he saw Rachel standing on the porch with a shotgun pointed at him.
“Get on your bike and go on to the clubhouse,” Rachel yelled.
“Why in the hell are you pointing your gun at me?” Cash had thought she would be upset after last night, but not to this extent. The day they’d had should have had them spending the night together, lucky to be alive, but did a Porter ever react the way a normal person would? Fuck no.
“Killyama just called me. She said she saw you at a bar in Jamestown, all cozy with a woman there. She had your dick in her freaking hand. Go on back to her and stay away from me.”
“I can explain.” Cash took a step forward, only to stop when she shot at his feet.
“Dammit, Rachel! I want to talk to you.”
“I don’t want to talk to you again. Go away!”
“That’s my grandmother’s house you’re living in.” His patience was decidedly becoming strained from having his woman shoot at him. Dammit, he had saved her life; he deserved a reward, not having his head blown off.
“She’s not your grandmother anymore, she’s mine.”
“You can’t confiscate my grandmother,” he told her, admiring her figure in the tight jeans and t-shirt. There was something sexy about a woman who could handle a gun.
“Yes, she can. I told her I would take the trade. I have to watch out for my great-grandbaby,” Mag yelled out from the house.
Cash was going to give that old woman hell when he could get close to her again, and he could tell that wasn’t going to happen with a vengeful Rachel standing guard on the front porch. He was going to have to leave until he could come up with a plan.
Climbing on his bike, he sat there and debated storming the porch until another shot rang out, going through the helmet he kept for Rachel.
She is going to pay for that, he thought, starting the motor.
Putting those two women together was a mistake he was going to have to pay for over several years to come. He was going to personally thank Shade when he got back to the clubhouse. The mean bastard better come up with a way out of this mess.
*