SAVING REBEL: Renegade Rebels Motorcycle Club Page 13

  When I heard the disdain and seething anger in Harley’s voice, I knew it was going to go down now and that he had no intention of watching Sergio walk out of this warehouse.

  And I was right.

  I shoved Rebel behind me as soon as Sergio turned to walk away. Harley took two steps after him, and pointed his gun directly to the back of Sergio’s head. The click of Harley’s gun echoed loudly, the only sound in the warehouse.

  Sergio froze and then everything seemed to happen in slow motion after that.

  Instead of slowly turning around as Harley instructed, Sergio jerked around quickly, using his elbow to hit Harley in the face. Harley’s gun went off as he fell to the ground, at the same time that Sergio’s man shot in Harley’s direction, missing him.

  I only had one thing in mind, and that was to keep Rebel and Harley safe. She had moved away from me, instead of standing behind me, and I dove in front of her, my gun exploding loudly as I shot Sergio’s man before he could take another shot in Harley’s direction. He turned towards me, his gun exploding at the same time that I hit him. He crumpled beside Sergio just as Sergio fired his gun in my direction.

  I didn’t feel it at first.

  Rebel was screaming behind me, and a loud thump echoed in my head as my body fell hard to the ground at her feet.

  That’s when the burning started. A wet, hot heat radiated through my body and I began coughing and choking as blood began pouring out of my mouth.

  The sound of footsteps running away, and the tears falling down Rebel’s beautiful face as she held me in her lap were the last things I was aware of before I drifted away into unconsciousness.

  ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

  I fucked up.

  My exhaustion, my anger, my pride, my frustration — all of it got in the way of any clear, logical thinking I might normally possess — and I fucked up. Bigger than I had ever fucked up before.

  As Rebel and I sat outside of the clubhouse, I was chain-smoking and pacing, shaking with fear and worry and the sick feeling of doom settling deeply in the pit of my stomach.

  “Rebel, this is all my fault. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I’ve been such an awful brother, and I’m sorry you’ve had to go through all this. I should have taken you away, I should’ve done so many fucking things differently, and this is all my fault.”

  I walked over to her, pulling her shaking body into my arms. She was covered in Mason’s blood, and the look on her face was pure shock.

  “We’re going to get through this. We’re going to get through it together. You just stay strong, Sis. I promise you, everything is going to be okay.”

  I felt like the worst person in the world. What the fuck was I thinking putting the two people I loved most in the world at risk like that? Mason and Rebel were the only real family I had left, outside of the brothers of the club, and it was my job to protect them.

  Not open gunfire within ten feet of them because I couldn’t control my fucking anger!

  I should have waited. I should have let Sergio walk out of the warehouse and dealt with him later, with the force of the entire MC behind me. Or, I should have just shot the weasly prick in the back of the head without saying a word as soon as he turned around.

  But I hadn’t.

  And instead, everything had gone so horribly wrong so quickly. And it was all my stupid fucking fault. After Mason went down, I chased Sergio, gunning him down as he ran away, his body falling in a bloody heap outside.

  “Shhh, Harley, stop it. Stop blaming yourself,” Rebel said, her arms wrapped around me as we waited.

  “I love you,” she whispered, melting in my arms. “He’s going to be okay, right?”

  “Yes, honey. Dr. Bob’s going to take care of him. He’s going to be good as new. Mason’s the toughest guy I know, Rebel. I promise you, he’s going to be just fine.”

  I had called Bob, our doctor, as soon as I could. Sometimes we needed to call him in emergency situations when we couldn’t go to the hospital. If I took Mason to the hospital, the cops would have been on us in five minutes. We rushed Mason back to the clubhouse and he met us there, bringing an assistant and closing everyone out of the back bedroom as soon as he got there. They hooked Mason up to an IV, and set to work.

  We kept Bob on a hefty retainer for his discretion at times like this, and tonight, I knew he was worth every penny. If he could save Mason, I would have given him everything I owned.

  When he saved Mason, not if. If wasn’t an option. He had to save him.

  I had to keep faith. For Rebel’s sake. For Mason’s sake. Fuck, for my sake.

  I couldn’t live without Mason. He was my best friend and as far as I was concerned, he was going to be my brother-in-law, too.

  He had taken a bullet for my sister. A bullet! There was nobody in the world that would have done that. No, Mason was a better man than anyone else I knew, and living without him was just not an option.

  The fact that he had lost what seemed like galloons of blood in that warehouse was not lost on me, and I was tortured by visions of his blood pouring out of the gaping wound in his chest. Dark red, seeping wounds flashed in the back of my mind as I kept trying to reassure Rebel and convince myself that he was going to be okay, all at the same time.

  He just had to. I wouldn’t accept anything else.

  ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

  The shaking was what I remembered most from that night.

  A deep, uncontrollable shaking that began at the deepest corners of my body, and radiated outward, until it wasn’t just my hands that were shaking, it wasn’t just my thighs, or my feet, it was every inch of my flesh that was quivering in fear.

  The other thing I remember is the blood. So much blood, more than I had ever seen in my life. Mason’s blood. And I was covered in it. It was thick and sticky and dried quickly, congealing in streaks and splotches on my clothes, hands and face.

  Hours later, when I had finally taken a shower, it took long moments of scrubbing under the scalding hot water before I could get it all off of me. By that time, the shaking had subsided, and I stood under the pelting hot water, watching the blood mix with the clean water and swirl down the drain at my feet.

  I never expected things to turn out so badly. When I made the decision to go to the warehouse that day, just to harmlessly watch Mason and Harley, I never imagined in a million years that Mason would be the one to pay for my childish mistake.

  I felt like the worst person in the whole world, filled with the deepest regret and shame I had ever felt.

  All I could think about was how I was ever going to make it all up to him. How I could ever convince him to forgive me. Not just Mason, but Harley too.

  I knew Harley blamed himself, and I felt awful about that, too. I had barreled into their lives and turned everything upside down with my immature bullshit, and I deserved to be banished from their lives, no matter how much I loved them.

  Harley and I had waited up until dawn, our hearts wracked with worry as Dr. Bob worked on Mason for hours. When he finally came out to talk us, the sun was rising in the distance.

  “He’s lost a lot of blood,” he said solemnly. “I removed the bullet from his chest. It missed his heart, thankfully, but it nicked an artery on the way in, and we won’t know if he’s out of the woods for a while.”

  “Can we see him?” Harley asked beside me.

  “You can go in and see him for a second, but he’s still sleeping and I don’t expect he’s going to wake up for a while. He’s going to need a lot of rest while he’s recovering.”

  “Dr. Bob, thank you so much,” Harley said, shaking Dr. Bob’s hand vigorously.

  “It’s my pleasure, Harley. Mason’s a good, strong man, he should pull through.”

  I sighed in relief, grabbing Harley’s hand and pulling him into the room where Mason was.

  His eyes were closed and he looked almost peaceful. The room was filled with medical equipment - tubes and cords snaking around the floor at our feet as we stood at his b
edside, staring down at him.

  I grabbed his hand, and planted a kiss on his forehead.

  I gasped with joy as his eyes fluttered open. His gaze went from Harley to me, and he smiled weakly.

  “Hey,” he whispered.

  “Shh!” Harley said, “don’t talk, bro.”

  “What happened?” he mumbled, his eyes darting around to take in his surroundings.

  “You took a bullet, Mason. You saved Rebel’s life. You’re a hero,” Harley said, his voice shaking.

  “Are you two okay?” Mason asked.

  “Yes, we’re fine, sweetheart,” I replied, stroking his hair and smiling at him through my tears. Maybe he was going to pull through after all, I thought. Maybe, somehow, some way, I would get a chance to make up for all of these mistakes. Maybe if I loved him enough, it would cancel it all out somehow.

  “Mason, listen, brother,” Harley said, “Dr. Bob is taking good care of you, and you’re gonna be up and back on your bike in no time at all. I promise you.”

  Mason’s eyes fluttered closed again for a second, then groggily he opened them once more, looking first at Harley, and then shining his gorgeous green eyes on me again. I had never been so grateful to see a pair of eyes in my life.

  “Rebel…” he said weakly.

  “Shh! Don’t talk, it’s okay. We’ll have plenty of time to talk later,” I leaned in and kissed his forehead.

  “Rebel…” he said again, his voice barely above a whisper.

  “What, my love?”

  “I’m so…s-s-sorry,” he struggled to get the words out, but when I realized he was apologizing, I cut him off again.

  “Mason, no! You have absolutely nothing to apologize for. This is all my fault! Not yours, not Harley’s. If I hadn’t been irresponsible and sticking my nose in your business, none of this would have happened. No - don’t think for a minute that I’m going to let anyone else take the blame for this.”

  “Rebel…”

  “What is it, Mason?”

  “I was only going to apologize for bleeding all over you,” he said slowly, trying to smile.

  I looked down at myself, and realized I must have been quite the sight. Covered in blood, with hot tears streaking down my face, I realized that for the first time in my life, I was thinking about someone else instead of myself.

  I didn’t care that I was covered in Mason’s blood.

  I didn’t care that I had made a complete fool of myself.

  I didn’t care that I was so far away from having my shit together that I couldn’t even see what my future looked like from here.

  All I cared about was that Mason was okay, that Mason knew I was there for him, that Mason knew how much I appreciated his courage and that no matter what happened, what our future looked like together, that I loved him with all of my heart.

  And I always would.

  “Mason, you could cover me in your blood every day and I would jump for joy each time, as long as you pull through this.”

  “I think I’ll just cover you in love,” he said, right before his eyes fluttered closed again.

  I leaned down and gently kissed his eyelids, his breathing deepening as he drifted back to sleep.

  “That’s just fine with me.” I whispered through my tears.

  ***The End***

  Honey Palomino is a writer of short erotica and romance stories.

  She loves reading and writing about dangerous bad boys and the women that love them!

  OTHER TITLES BY HONEY PALOMINO

  BIKER ROMANCE AND EROTICA

  Outlaws - The Novel

  Dirty Crow Motorcycle Club

  Captured

  The Snake's Den

  BOYS SERIES (MMF THREESOME EROTICA)

  The Boys In The Barn

  The Boys Next Door

  The Boys In The Band

  The Boys Back Home

  The Boys From Texas

  THREESOME/MULTIPLES EROTICA

  Masquerade

  Undercover

  Playing With Fire

  The Shrink

  The Lust Boat

  WEREWOLF ROMANCE AND EROTICA

  Lust for Luna - The Trilogy

  Stranded on Werewolf Island

  Beast

  After Hours

  The Moon Howlers

  Royal Rebellion

  Sex Magic

  Please enjoy this bonus copy of

  Honey Palomino's Dirty Crow Motorcycle Club!

  ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

  DIRTY CROW MOTORCYCLE CLUB

  BY HONEY PALOMINO

  “Live with vultures, become a vulture;

  live with crows, become a crow.”

  ~ Laotian proverb

  CHAPTER ONE

  My name is Olivia LaVelle.

  Raised by misfit parents that I loved and cursed all in the same breath, I was born into a world that made no sense to me, a world full of chaos and drunken debauchery, a constant party - always moving, always dark - I had no choice but to grow up fast and tough. My father rode with the Blackheart Motorcycle club. After learning that moving drugs was an easier dollar to earn than swinging a rigging ax, and that the Blackhearts provided a sense of protection and brotherhood, he quickly became a fiercely loyal and proud member, wearing his cut everywhere he went.

  My mother was attracted to him at first glance. They bonded over a lap dance at the local strip club she worked at, and he had her straddling the back of his bike before her shift was over, calling an end to her dancing career. Despite the stripping, she was a good girl, but the MC lifestyle soon ravaged her beauty and her health. By the time I was born, she was deep into an alcohol and cocaine addiction with no time to properly care for a needy baby girl.

  Somehow, I survived. My parents weren't so lucky. They died in a violent, bloody crash in a drunken collision with an 18-wheeler headed South on I-5 when I was ten years old.

  The MC was a curse, but it was also my first blessing. After my parents died, they made sure to take care of me as best as they could - which wasn't great - but they tried. But by the time I was 12, I was running the streets and getting into trouble all on my own. Salvation was not in the cards. A future in the California prison system seemed inevitable.

  Then I met my savior - Officer Tommy Kurtz.

  He found me after I had broken into the house of a kid I knew from school. I knew the kid was on vacation with his parents, and I also knew they had a fully stocked liquor cabinet. Officer Kurtz found me passed out in their bathroom lying in my own puke after the family had come home early and called the cops instead of waking me up.

  Tommy Kurtz was a man's man. Six foot three, two hundred seventy-five pounds and fists the size of my head, he could terrify a man just by looking at him. In spite of his rough exterior, he was a gentle soul. Kind and fair, he never left a man out in the cold or hungry, and was known to give someone the shirt off his back, if necessary. Meeting him was my second blessing.

  Instead of taking me to juvenile detention, and throwing me into the abyss of abusive foster homes, he took me home. He and his wife put me up in their frilly guest room and watched over me all night long, holding my hair back while I puked into their pink, plastic trash can. The next morning, over bacon and eggs, they watched me with kind smiles as I ate like a starving child.

  They gave me a stern talking to about house rules, and said that I could stay there for a few days. Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, and after a year of stability, love and kindness, they offered to adopt me. Tommy and Mable had always held out hope for a child of their own, but it just never happened. I was the next best thing, they always said. It was good enough for me.

  Humbled by their never-ending kindness, I did my best to turn my life around and leave the past behind. I went to school, studied hard and immersed myself in athletics. When I received a scholarship for Track at UC Berkeley, I jumped on it. Inspired by Tommy, and rejecting every ounce of my past, I studied law and decided to become a cop myself.
I was accepted into the police academy immediately after graduating.

  As much as I tried to leave the past behind, it had ways of sneaking up on me. Little things would set off the memories. The smell of my college roommate's bong water, the loud, window-shaking rumble of a passing motorcycle, the feel of a piece of leather sliding under my fingers - all things that could bring me right back to the clubhouse.

  My memories weren't all bad, but the good ones were far and few between. Unfortunately, it was all I had.

  As I panted my way through my morning run, the memories were strong. I had come so far and that realization was hitting particularly hard on today of all days – I was graduating from the police academy this morning. As I trailed through the sprawling campus, making my way back to my room, I marveled at how strong and confident I felt now. It was a far cry from the craziness of my childhood, and if Tommy hadn't come along just when he did, I knew for sure I wouldn't be graduating at the top of my class today.

  Soaked in sweat, my muscles tight and firm under my wet shirt from years of working out, I ran up the stairs to my room and headed straight for the shower. I tried to focus on letting all the bad memories wash down the drain and my heart swelled with pride for myself and my journey. After overcoming so much, I was proud that I had done so well and that I had chosen a different lifestyle than my parents. I wondered what they would think if they could see me now?

  An hour later, I reached the auditorium where the ceremony was to be held. Tommy and Mable were waiting right out front, their smiles spreading widely across their wrinkled faces. Mable's green eyes sparkled as she embraced me tightly.

  “I am so proud of you, Liv! So, so proud!”