Mace, page 15
“What is it?” Imogen demanded.
“Darrin Bing. I was at his house for a family reunion, and it was just sitting on his desk.” Brad looked around. “He caught me looking at it, and I ran before he could catch me.”
“Fucking hell,” Barracuda cursed.
Monk stepped away and headed over to the girls. “Everyone in the building, and no one argues.”
He was too late, though.
Another car careened into the parking lot, and a pissed-off Darrin Bing jumped out of the driver’s seat with a gun pointed toward Brad.
“You got something that belongs to me, boy,” he screamed.
“Whoa, whoa,” Barracuda called. He pulled his gun from his waistband in a flash and pointed it at Darrin. “Put it down,” he ordered.
Monk was slowly moving the girls along the side of the building, but Darrin noticed them move.
“Stop fucking moving,” he shouted. He fired a shot toward the girls, and everyone screamed.
Fucking hell.
Imogen pressed herself to my back, and I wrapped my arm around her from behind.
“Easy, easy,” Barracuda tried to calm him. Darrin was still twenty feet away but close enough to kill us all if he wanted.
I didn’t think he did, though, because he would have done it already.
He was after the notebook in Barracuda’s hands.
The notebook incriminated his brother in many rapes and murders.
Imogen was not the only one Kent had raped.
She had just been the last one.
“You want this notebook that is a laundry list of all the women your brother raped?” Barracuda asked. He held up the notebook and shook his head.
Imogen gasped, and her body tensed.
“I didn’t get to look too closely at it, but it seems your brother was a sick fuck who liked to document all the evil and nasty shit he did.” Barracuda tsked.
“That doesn’t belong to you. That fuckshit stole it from me.” He glared and pointed his gun at Brad. “You shouldn’t go snooping where you don’t belong. You’ll wind up dead.”
“Dead?” I laughed. “You think you’re going to kill him and not spend the rest of your life in prison as your brother should have?” I tsked and shook my head. “You’ve got seventeen witnesses who will make sure your ass rots in a cell.”
Darrin laughed manically. “You think the police will believe you? You’re a bunch of criminal bikers, and I’m the mayor of Sutter Creek. I shoot him, take back that notebook, and I’m still a free man.” He pointed his gun at me. “And I might take you out, too, since you’re proving to be harder to frame than I thought.”
“You’re not leaving here with this notebook,” I called. “The only option you have is getting in your truck and driving away.” I wasn’t going to let that happen, though. Darrin Bing was going down for a lot of shit, and I was going to make sure he paid for it.
“That is my property,” he shouted. “Give it back to me, and I won’t shoot anyone.”
I glanced at Barracuda, and he shook his head.
Barracuda was the closest to Darrin.
Next was me, but I had Imogen behind me. Rebel was still by the grill, while Playboy, Six-Gun, Jet, and Jinx were about ten feet behind us. Monk was guarding the girls and still trying to move them out of danger.
I was trying to figure out a plan when a shot rang out, and Brad collapsed.
There was no time for a plan.
I dropped to the ground with Imogen while Barracuda fired at Darrin, and Playboy tackled him to the ground.
Six-Gun got to Playboy and Darrin first and helped to pin him to the ground.
Imogen’s screams broke my heart. I scooped her up in my arms and carried her over to Monk and the rest of the girls. I pressed a hard kiss to her lips. “Shh, babe. You’re okay,” I promised.
Her body shook, and her eyes darted wildly around. “Brad,” she cried. “He shot Brad.”
Dorothy sobbed and pulled Imogen into her arms.
I nodded to Monk and returned to where Darrin was on the ground. “Don’t kill him,” I called. “We kill him, and then he won’t pay for what he’s done.”
Jet and Jinx were tending to Brad, who was laid out on the ground with a bullet in his chest.
Barracuda stood over Darrin with the notebook in his hand. I moved next to Barracuda and stared at Darrin.
He spat a wad of blood at my feet and glared at me. “You’re not going to get away with this.”
“Get away with what?” I laughed. “I haven’t done jack shit. You’re the one who has been trying to pin shit on people and shooting people. I’m a fucking saint compared to you and your rapist brother.”
“He wasn’t a rapist,” Darrin countered.
I stepped back and held my hands up. “He wasn’t a rapist?” I asked. “You’re telling me that woman back there and the twenty others he raped all just made it up?”
Barracuda held up his finger. “I know what it is.” He crouched down in front of Darrin. “They asked for it, didn’t they? All of those women asked for your brother to beat and rape them, yeah?”
“You mean how Darrin is asking for this?” I growled. I landed a kick square in his stomach, and he groaned in pain. “You asked for that, right?”
Darrin moaned and didn’t say anything.
“We need a fucking ambulance over here,” Jinx called. “He’s losing blood like crazy.”
“I got it,” Monk called. His phone was pressed to his ear, and he rattled off where we were.
“Mitzy,” Six-Gun called.
“Yeah,” she shouted.
“You steady?” he asked.
“Like a fucking rock,” she spat.
“Call the Calaveras sheriff's department. Don’t let them send Amador county.” Darrin grunted. “You don’t like that, do you?” Six-Gun laughed. “You’ve got Amador county in pocket fuckstick, so you can bet your ass they will not be here to help you.”
“I’m not getting in trouble for this,” Darrin spat. “You don’t know who you are fucking with.”
I crouched down in front of Darrin. “I think you have that backward. You don’t know who you’re fucking with. If I were you, I would pray the police arrest you and lock you away for the rest of your life. Because if you manage to weasel your way out of this, you can bet your ass you will be dead before sunrise.”
I was done with him.
Darrin Bing had made too many mistakes that he couldn’t get himself out of.
Imogen ran to me when I was halfway to her, and she catapulted herself into my arms.
“Mace,” she gasped. “I was so scared.”
I wrapped my arms around her and held her close. “You’re always safe with me, babe. Nothing will ever hurt you as long as I’m breathing.”
Sirens sounded in the distance, and for the first time in a long time, I knew they weren’t coming for me.
Kent Bing deserved to die. He had raped so many girls from the few entries I had been able to read in that notebook.
And Darrin Bing deserved the same for hiding the truth all these years.
Imogen had killed Kent all of those years ago.
She had stopped the monster from hurting anyone else, though.
I always protected Imogen, but she was the one who had protected everyone in Sutter Creek from Kent Bing.
She was the hero in all of this.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Imogen
“It’s done?”
Mace nodded and pressed a kiss to my temple. “Done.”
I sighed and face-planted into his chest. “I didn’t think I would ever hear you say those words.”
It was done.
I had killed Kent Bing fifteen years ago, but everyone knew it was self-defense.
He would have killed me if I hadn’t killed him first.
All charges against Mace had been dropped, and the state was now focusing on Darrin Bing.
The corrupt mayor who had hidden heinous crimes and had tried to frame innocent people.
He was never going to be a free man again.
“I doubted it for a second, too, babe, but there was no way in I hell you or I were going to go down after all the shit he did came to light.”
Pam, Mace’s lawyer, had hit a home run out of the park when it came to clearing Mace and me.
The medical report and underwear we gave her, along with the notebook Brad had stolen from Darrin, were enough to turn the tables on Darrin.
Brad was thankfully alive and was expected to make a full recovery.
I had told him thank you so many times because he was amazing for risking his life to get that notebook to Mace.
Say what you will about small towns, but where there is evil, there will always be more good to fight it.
Brad was the good I didn’t see coming, but I was so thankful for him.
It had been three weeks since everything went down, and my world was finally righting itself.
“What are you thinking about, babe?” Mace asked.
“Cheesecake,” I laughed. “Salted caramel cheesecake.”
He looked down at me and quirked his eyebrow. “Is that a craving?” he asked.
I smirked and laid my hand on my stomach. “I think it might be.”
Mace scooted down until his lips were next to my stomach, and he lifted my shirt. “Are you giving mommy cravings?” he whispered. “At least it’s not pickle cheesecake or something crazy,” he reasoned.
“Is this how the next eight months are going to go?” I laughed.
Mace tipped his head back, and his eyes connected with mine. “You got a problem with that?”
A smile stretched across my lips, and I ran my fingers through his hair. “Not a problem at all. My baby needs his daddy.”
Mace pressed his lips to my stomach. “Just as much as he needs his mommy.”
Mace and I drew the short end of the stick when we were younger and didn’t have the family we deserved.
We were going to change that.
Our kids were never going to wonder if their parents loved them or if they were wanted.
The only thing you can do with a bad past is to learn from it and move on.
Mace and I were moving on together and would never look back.
Epilogue
Barracuda
“Are we done?” I thundered.
Playboy held up his hands. “Ain’t nothing coming from us.”
“Same,” Jet and Jinx called.
My eyes traveled around the table, and everyone nodded.
“We should have a few years of peace,” Mace called.
“A few years?” I countered. “I want the rest of my life to be peaceful.”
“Did you forget you have a kid?” Six-Gun laughed. “Peace and kids do not go hand in hand, brother.”
“Especially when Willem has a lot of Tank inside of him,” Rebel laughed. “I’m looking forward to seeing what that kid becomes.”
“Probably Prez,” Six-Gun guessed.
“And you know Mitzy is going to be popping out a kid soon,” Monk reminded everyone.
Mace cleared his throat. “Uh, you can add in Imogen.”
Six-Gun raised a finger. “Memphis, also.”
I buried my head in my hands and sighed.
We would have a few years of peace, but we all knew that wouldn’t last long.
The second generation of the Royal Bastards would be here before we knew it.
God help us all.
And what about Dorothy?
She’ll find her happy ending in
Urn For Me.
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About the Author
Wall Street Journal and USA Today bestselling author Winter Travers is a devoted wife, mother, and aunt-turned-author born and raised in Wisconsin. After a brief stint in South Carolina, following her heart to chase the man who is now her hubby, they retreated up North to the changing seasons and to the place they now call home.
Winter spends her days writing happily ever afters and her nights being a karate mom hauling her son to practices and tournaments. She also has an addiction to anything MC-related, puppies and baking.
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Check out the first chapter of Wilder Presley Says He Loves Me
Chapter One
He’s back...
Shelby Lyn
“He’s back.”
I snagged the last roll of black ribbon and dropped it into my basket.
“I saw him this morning at the diner. When he walked right by, I was getting my two scrambled eggs with wheat toast and maple sausage.” Missy clicked her tongue. “He looked as fine as fireworks on the fourth of July out on Mason Lake, let me tell you.”
My eyes searched the shelf for the second time hoping for more black ribbon to magically appear. “Maybe they have more black ribbon in the back,” I mumbled. I needed at least five more yards to ensure I had enough to finish the wreath Mrs. Baxter ordered. Halloween was fast approaching, and I needed to get a jump on my yearly orders.
“Shelby Lyn.” Missy snapped her fingers in my face. “Have you heard a word I‘ve said?”
I stepped back and swatted her hand out of my face. “Yeah, you ate your breakfast this morning, and it was as good as the fourth of July fireworks.”
Missy scoffed. “You missed the important part.”
Missy spoke a mile a minute, and while I’m sure most of what she said was necessary to someone somewhere, most of the time, I tuned her out. After almost twenty years of friendship, I learned that if I missed something important that came out of her mouth, she tended to return to it until I heard her. This was one of those times. “Then tell me the important part while we wait for Jack to get his ass out of the backroom and help me.”
“You know he’s probably reading the old Playboys back there.” Missy visibly shivered. “Thank god I never had a boy. I don’t think I could have handled the crusty socks and forty-minute showers.”
“Missy. Did you need to go there?” Dear god in heaven. I did not need that mental picture painted in my brain. “I doubt Jack is doing anything in the backroom. Please, he’s eighteen. I hope he can control himself till he gets off work.”
Missy shrugged. “Girl, you remember how boys were when we were eighteen. Horn dogs looking to rut.”
“Uh, rut?” Was she talking about men or deer? Sometimes the lines did blur.
She scoffed and grabbed the dark blue ribbon. “Dad was watching the hunting channel last time I stopped by. What about this one?”
I shook my head. “It’s navy.”
“Nonsense. This is black,” she insisted.
I grabbed the ribbon from her and set it back on the shelf. “It’s navy, and it won’t work.” The backroom door swung open, and Jack walked out. “There’s Jack.”
“Oh lordy. See, he’s tucking his shirt in.” Missy hissed. “Whatever you do, do not touch his hands,” she advised.
“Jack,” I called. “Can you check to see if there is any more one-inch black ribbon in the back?”
Jack gave me a two-fingered salute and backtracked to the backroom.
“Gonna be ten minutes before he surfaces again. You gave him an excuse to read a few more pages,” Missy laughed.
“You’re a nut, Missy.” I moved over to the selection of orange ribbons and tried to figure out which shade would be perfect. It needed to be bright, but not neon bright.
“Can we get back to what we were talking about before?”
“Your breakfast? It must have been pretty good if you want to keep talking about it.” I fingered a light shade of orange and wondered if it would clash with the dark shadow of orange I already had at home. Mrs. Baxter was as sweet as pie, but she would have a bird if the colors weren’t right for her fall wreath.
Missy scoffed. “Wilder Presley is back, Shelby,” she shouted.
I dropped the light orange ribbon, and Missy's words hit me like bullets to my head. “Uh, what?” There was no way she had just said that.
No.
No, no, no.
Missy snapped her fingers in my face. “Now you’re gonna listen, huh?” she laughed. She shook her head and turned to the rack of ribbon. “What if you did a dark purple instead of black?” she suggested.
I grabbed her shoulder and spun her back to face me. “We’re not going to talk about ribbon right now,” I spat.
“You’re about a minute behind on your shock, Shelby. I’m over having to tell you about Wilder.”
“I was listening all along,” I muttered.
“Wilder Presley is back in Adams, Shelby Lyn, and you look like you saw a ghost.”
I glared at Missy. “I heard you the first time you said it.”
Missy cackled. “Second time I said it, you heard, but I had to repeat it because the look you get when I say his name says so much.”
I didn’t get a look when she said his name. There was no reason why I would get a look. None. “Where is Jack with my ribbon?” I grumbled.
“So you’re just going to act like I didn’t tell you the Wilder Presley is home?” Missy smirked. “You can’t act like this with me, Shelby. You told me what you said the day he left.” She wagged her finger in my face. “I have known you for nineteen years and one hundred ten days.”
I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t acting anyway, just like I hadn’t had a look when she said Wilder’s name. “And this isn’t his home,” I insisted. “When you leave for more than nine years, the place you go to becomes your home.”
“Is that a rule?” Missy questioned.
