Never Love an Outlaw: Deadly Pistols MC Romance (Outlaw Love)

“You told her the truth, babe. That's all you can do, and all I expect. I'm gonna tell you straight too – the next few weeks are gonna be rough. Don't know where it's gonna end. As long as everybody's open and honest, we'll get through it. Right now, my whole focus is keeping you two safe while we get into Oregon. Then I'll figure out the rest, soon as I hear from Blackjack.” He turned away, keeping his attention on the road. “I love you, babe.”


The words hit me in the chest like an icepick. It was too much to process after everything that just happened. I couldn't speak, so I reached for his hand, gingerly placing my fingers over his on the wheel.

Brass flashed me a knowing smile. For now, that was all I needed.

Jackie slept through the entire trip. Not that I minded one bit. I was feeling pretty drowsy myself by the time we rolled into Klamath Falls after about three hours on the dark, mountainous roads.

We parked the truck and found a hotel with vacancies after a quick stop at a local department store. He sent me in to pick up fresh clothes. He changed before we went into the hotel, doing it in the pickup part, stuffing the bloody clothes in a black bag in the back. Everything except his cut, which would be easier to clean up.

When he was done, we headed inside. Jackie sulked in behind us while Brass got everything set up, then we followed him to the room. He threw me some cash to order a pizza.

We were outside on the main deck, next to a crappy looking pool. I heard him outside talking on his cell. It sounded intense. Jackie was taking a long shower, anything to lengthen her time away from me right now, so I stepped out too.

“Jesus Christ. You've only got half the numbers, Blackjack,” he growled into his phone. “Fang's gonna call in other charters to defend his own ass. The cartel war won't matter with the reinforcements he'll bring to Redding.”

The other voice on the line was gruff, determined. I couldn't quite make out what he was saying.

“Really? Fucking who? Me and ten other guys aren't nearly enough to stand a chance of dethroning that motherfucker when he'll have double the brothers there in a week.”

More rough orders from Blackjack. More tension on my man's face. I leaned in and squeezed his arm.

Suddenly, he tore himself away from me, stumbling to the edge of the pool. “You gotta be fucking shitting me, Blackjack! You're really talking about treason now.”

There was a long pause. I could practically see his jaw hanging on the floor before he finally responded.

“Shit. Fuck. It's just...working with the fucking Prairie Pussies?!” He paused, taking a long, slow breath. “Okay. Yeah, I'll call her.”

I crept up behind him as he ended the call, moving my hands on his shoulders. “What's wrong? Don't drop the phone in the pool now...”

He turned around and gave me a cynical look. “I'm pissed, but I'm not stupid, babe. Shit's about to get a whole lot more complicated.”

“Yeah? Where are we going next?” God, he was tense.

My hands roamed his rock hard muscles, admiring and nervous at the same time. I just wanted to calm him down, let him know that I appreciated everything he'd done.

Against the odds, he'd kept his word. He kept us safe, and now he was taking us away from all this.

He was a rock. My rock. Over six feet of pure masculine granite, inked with an animal that still scared the hell out of me, a beast that only seemed to share his spirit.

I couldn't depend on the world, but I could depend on him.

Brass. Jordan. My old man.

“We gotta head up to Missoula. There's another club up there...the Prairie Devils.” He growled the name through his teeth when he said it, giving me the real one instead of the crude slang I'd heard thrown around before. “Blackjack's setting shit up now. If we weren't short on manpower, I'd say he's outta his fucking mind asking for their help. But my sister's got an in with their club. She's married to their Prez, Blaze.”

Now, it all came together. I smiled, smoothing my hands on him like he was clay. If only it were so easy to rub away the anger spiking out of his skin in a static aura. I was about to move in for a kiss when the door to our room swung open.

Jackie stuck her head out, wrapped in a towel, and called to us. “Pizza's here!”

“Be right there,” Brass said, easing me away.

Before he got two steps further, I reached for his shirt, grabbing a fistful. “Wait.”

He spun, staring me up and down.

“I should've said it right away, but I was too damned shocked. What you said on the ride in...” I paused, readying myself to speak the crazy truth out loud. “I love you too. I trust you. I'm here for you, Brass, ready to be your old lady. I mean it for real this time. We're not playing around anymore.”

He grabbed me, his rough hands sinking into my hips as he pulled me to his lips. We kissed as long, hard, and hot as the time crunch would allow us, a kiss that said how grateful we were the bastards in the warehouse hadn't taken away everything before I admitted what we had.

It was here. Right here in his marvelous, insatiable lips.

“No we're not, babe. This is all real. I just gotta finish branding you when all this shit's finally done.” He grabbed me by the hand and led me forward. “Now, let's go. I'm fucking starving.”

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