Batta (Blackwings MC - Devil Springs Book 4) Read online

“Be sure to stop by when we’re open and pick up some books for your wives or girlfriends,” Josie blurted while looking like a deer in headlights.

  “Thank you; we just might do that,” the officer said. “Well, we’ll get out of here so the nurses can finish up with you.”

  “When can I get my gun back?” I asked before they made it to the door.

  “Shouldn’t be longer than a few weeks. We’ll call you when you can come pick it up.”

  “Thanks,” I replied and waved as the officers left. To my surprise, the two bikers were still standing in my room. And then they closed the door.

  Copper whirled around and pinned me with eyes that saw far too much. “Now that they’re gone, you can tell me what in the actual fuck is really going on here.”

  “I’m not sure what you’re used to, but I don’t take orders from you. I told the police everything there was to tell. I’m sure the they’ll be happy to give you a copy of the report if you need a refresher,” I said and returned my own knowing stare.

  “Bullshit,” he scoffed and stepped forward in an almost threatening manner that I decidedly did not like. “Did you bring this shit to my door?”

  “Prez,” Judge warned.

  Copper’s hand shot up to hold him off. He jabbed a finger in my direction with each word. “Did. You?”

  “Did you bring this shit to my door?” I snapped back. “Sorry, big guy, but I can match you endangered sibling for endangered sibling.”

  “Sorry, little lady, but your sibling looks unharmed. Mine is far from that right now.”

  I glanced at my sister who was trying her best not to cry. “Did he just call me ‘little lady’? Jo, did you hear that, too, or am I having a stroke right now?”

  “Prez,” Judge said in a low tone. “You need to leave. Now.”

  Copper inhaled deeply and, with a scathing look in my direction, he turned on his heel and left.

  “I’m sorry about that,” Judge said. “He’s worried about his brother and his friend, and he’s not thinking clearly right now.”

  Before I could reply, the door opened, and another nurse entered my room. “Jonah, I’ve been looking all over for you,” she said and glanced around the room. “Um, I have an update.”

  “You can tell us, too. Pretty sure one of us is wearing blood that belongs to whoever that update is about.”

  The nurse didn’t even glance at me. She kept her eyes on Judge, also known as Jonah, and waited for his approval. At his nod, she said, “Batta is in recovery. He’s awake and asking for you or Copper.”

  I watched as some of the tension visibly left Judge’s body. “I’ll be there in just a minute,” he said and kissed her forehead.

  When she left the room, he turned back to us. “Again, I apologize for Copper. We’re all extremely grateful for everything you did to help Bronze and Batta. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go check on my friend.”

  “Take care, Judge Jonah,” I said with a little wave and hopped off the bed. “Can you send that Kennedy chick in here? I’d like to leave while the night is still young.”

  He cracked a smile. “Sure thing, Taylin. You two take care. And if you ever need anything, the Blackwings will be happy to help.”

  4

  Searing pain pierced my back—not once, but twice—and stole the air from my lungs. I tried to turn, to see who was behind me, but I couldn’t move. All I could do was close my eyes as I fell face-down to the floor.

  “Go check for a pulse and don’t touch that knife! If he’s got a pulse, clear the blood from his mouth and help him breathe,” someone said before I felt pressure on my back.

  I wanted to groan in pain. I wanted to get up and help my brother. I wanted to go after the motherfuckers who tried to kill us. But I couldn’t. I was too tired. Maybe if I let go, for just a minute, I could regain some strength.

  “Jace Ryder Wild III, it is not your time.”

  “Mom?” I couldn’t see her. I couldn’t see anything but a gray haze.

  She gently placed her hand on my shoulder. “I love you, Trey. Go make me proud.”

  “I love you too, Mom. I miss you.”

  “I’m with you every day,” she said, her voice fading at the end.

  “You’re going to be okay,” the other voice promised as something was pressed against my back. “Help is on the way. I’m going to do everything I can to help you, but you have to fight, too. Stay with me, big guy. We’ve got you. Just a few more minutes.”

  One Week Later

  “Trey, are you sure you don’t want me to stay at your house for a few days?” Kennedy asked for the umpteenth time.

  “I’m sure,” I said again. I never stayed at my house, and she knew that, but given the current circumstances, staying at the clubhouse wasn’t ideal either. “Judge and River have plenty of room at their house, but I appreciate the offer.”

  “Trey—” she started, but I stopped her.

  “Listen, Kennedy, I know you feel guilty about ending our semi-relationship a few hours before I got shot. Try not to think of it like that. Think of it as us confirming our friendship.”

  Confusion washed over her face for a split second before she threw her head back and laughed. “Oh, thank you, Trey. I needed that.”

  I reached out and grabbed her hand. “Seriously, though, nothing has really changed between us.”

  “I know,” she said softly. “But it will change when we start dating other people.”

  I leaned back and gently patted my chest. “Well, it might be a minute before I get back out there. Got to get this body back in shape after a week of hospital food and no exercise.”

  “You can shut the hell up right now, Mr. Zero Percent Body Fat,” she said while she shook her finger at me.

  “Knock, knock. Your chariot has arrived,” River said and pushed a wheelchair into the room.

  “You know good and well my big ass isn’t going to fit in that thing. And I’ll be damned if I have to spend another week in here because I was impaled in the ass when that sling on wheels breaks. No, thank you. I’ll walk,” I told her and got to my feet.

  “It’s hospital policy—”

  I held up my hand to silence her. “Save that shit for the people who follow the rules. Now, one of you take me to see Bronze.”

  “I thought you were the fun one,” River grumbled. “Right this way, Bratta.”

  “What did you call him?” Judge asked.

  “Bratta. Like Brat and Batta. No more talking,” she snapped and started walking, hopefully toward Bronze’s room.

  I knew he was okay; I’d been told by Copper, Judge, and every other brother in the club, but I needed to see it for myself. The last time I saw him, he was on the floor with a knife protruding from his chest. That image had haunted me every time I closed my eyes. My thoughts would then automatically go to my dad. I never blamed him for his actions after my mother’s death, but after the incident with Bronze, I had a deeper understanding of why he did what he did. I considered Bronze a member of my family, and I would do the same for him.

  “Listen, brother, before you go in there, he’s doing a lot better. He’s still really pale, and he’s having a hard time talking. Just didn’t want that to shock you,” Judge said quietly.

  I didn’t give a shit if he was as white as the damn bed sheets because nothing could be worse than what was burned into my brain. Eager to replace my last memory of him, I pushed through the door to find Copper and Layla sitting off to the side while Bronze appeared to be sleeping.

  Exhaling in relief, I felt a little bit of the tension leave my body. He was pale, and he looked like shit. But he was breathing, and most importantly, the knife was gone.

  “Layla, let me borrow some lipstick,” I requested, hoping to distract them from my emotions that were so close to the surface.

  “What? Why?” she asked.

  “I’ll tell you later,” I said and flashed her my most charming smile.

  “You put lipstick on me, and I will get out
of this bed and whoop your ass,” Bronze declared with one eye cracked open.

  I reached for his hand and clasped it in mine. “Fuck,” I breathed and tried to swallow over the lump in my throat. “Good to see you, brother. You scared the shit out of me.”

  “Scared the fuck out of me, too,” he admitted. “Copper, get your rude ass up and let the man sit. He was just shot for fuck’s sake.”

  “Twice,” I added and held up two fingers while sticking out my tongue.

  Copper pushed a chair behind me and stepped to the side. “I was already up and moving before you said anything, you big pain in the ass.”

  “You love me, and you know it,” Bronze grinned.

  “I’m going to step out and get some coffee,” Layla said.

  “I’ll join you,” River added.

  I chuckled. “They must think we have something to talk about.”

  Copper cleared his throat. “We do have something to talk about,” he said seriously.

  “Aw, fuck. Do we have to? I wanted to at least have a day to relax before I had to start worrying about shit.”

  “Cut the shit, Batta. Two men tried to kill both of you, and they almost fucking did. One of those bastards is dead, but the other one got away. That leaves us with two problems—we don’t know who they are, and we don’t know what they were doing.”

  “How the hell do we not know who they are if we know one of them is dead?” I asked.

  “No identification on the body. No matches with missing persons reports, fingerprints, etc. The police department is still working on identifying him, but it’s been a week, so I’m not getting my hopes up,” Copper explained.

  “And you said one got away?”

  He nodded and rubbed his chin. “Yeah. We thought he’d turn up at a hospital, but we’ve had a watch on all the hospitals and urgent care centers in a two-hundred-mile radius with no luck.”

  “Hold on. What am I missing here?” I asked.

  “Go ahead, big brother. Tell him the part about the Blackwings Enforcer being saved by the hot chick next door.”

  His words triggered a flash of dark hair and whiskey-colored eyes filled with worry. I only caught one glimpse of her face when she leaned down to tell me help was on the way, but I remembered feeling her hands touch my body.

  “Stay with me, big guy. We’ve got you. Just a few more minutes.”

  I’d forgotten about her and how much her words—those words—helped me fight the darkness trying to take me. She appeared out of nowhere, like a guardian angel, and saved us both.

  My brothers always gave me strength and reassurance, but the last time I felt comfort like that was from my mother. Her soothing words and gentle touch always gave me the strength to get through any kind of pain I faced, physical or emotional.

  I needed to find her. To thank her. But first, I closed my eyes and tilted my head to the sky to whisper, “Thank you,” to my mom, because I knew, without a doubt, she was watching over us that night.

  “Batta?” Judge asked pulling me back to the present.

  “The woman. Where is she?” I demanded.

  “Why do you want to know where she is?” Copper asked.

  “So I can thank her for saving my life,” I replied incredulously.

  “You’ll be able to easily find her because she and her sister are opening a bookstore next to the gym,” Copper said.

  5

  Two Weeks Later

  “I’m going to go pick up some lunch,” I called out to my sister. “Need anything else while I’m out?”

  “Food, woman! I’m getting hangry.”

  “Well, move your ass to the safe room so I can get going.”

  She put down the books in her hand and huffed. “I’m going. Now, hurry up, I’m starving.”

  “Settle down, psycho sister. I’ll be back in a few minutes,” I chirped as I closed the door and locked it.

  When I turned around, I face-planted into a muscular man’s chest causing him to grunt. “Fuck,” he groaned and stepped back.

  “You!” I yelled in surprise. “Holy monkey balls! What are you doing here? Crap. Are you okay? Here, come inside and sit down,” I blabbered like an idiot but managed to get the door open. “It’s me, Jo! And we have a visitor.”

  Josie came running into the front of the store with a look of panic on her face until her eyes landed on the biker. “Oh, shit, Tay. What did you do to him?”

  “Why do you automatically assume I did something?”

  “Because he’s not the first person to be injured by your hard head,” Josie deadpanned.

  “If you must know, he ran into me.”

  “Will you stop and bring that chair over here?” she asked though it wasn’t a question. I pushed the chair over to him, but he refused to sit down. “Are you okay?”

  He rubbed his chest and nodded. “I’m fine. It only hurts for a second if I move too quickly or suddenly tense up, like when someone runs headfirst into my exit wound. Warn a man next time, will ya?”

  “You plan on visiting often?” I asked.

  He laughed. “We own the gym next door and a bar about fifteen minutes from here. We’re bound to run into each other from time to time.”

  So, the bikers were businessmen. I wasn’t expecting that. “I suppose you’re right. But, we’re not open for business and you’re clearly still injured. So, why are you here?” I asked and held up my hand to stop my sister before she even started.

  He cleared his throat and shifted his stance. “For starters, I wanted to personally thank you for saving my life.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest and nodded. “You’re welcome. What else?”

  His eyes trailed over my body from head to toe and back up. I was used to men making googly eyes at me. I was in shape and I had big boobs; I learned to ignore it many years ago. What I didn’t like was not being able to read the look on his face. I couldn’t tell if it was surprise, indifference, admiration, or something completely different.

  “I want to hear about what happened that night,” he stated.

  “It’s all in the police reports. All you have to do is call and request a copy.”

  “I want to hear it from you,” he clarified and met my eyes with a challenging stare.

  I snorted and shook my head. He thought I kept something from the police. He didn’t know me, but one thing I wasn’t was a liar. Well, unless I was forced to be. “Uh-huh. Well, Mr. Biker Man, I was on my way out to pick up lunch, so you can come back and accuse me of lying to the cops some other time.”

  He flashed me a wicked smile and stood. “Okay, then. I’ll return this to you ‘some other time’,” he said and pulled my gun from the inside pocket of his leather vest.

  “Wait!” I blurted before I could stop myself.

  “Yes?” he asked with a triumphant grin.

  “Is that my gun?” I asked and tried to sound as naïve as possible, which also made me want to vomit. I hated acting stupid, but I was willing to do it if that’s what it took to get my gun back.

  “It is,” he said and held it out for me to see.

  I grabbed the gun with one hand and his arm with the other while I swept his feet out from under him. He went down like a sack of bricks leaving my gun in my hand where it belonged. Unfortunately, he grabbed my shirt and pulled me down with him. I landed hard against his chest, but he quickly rolled us and had me pinned beneath him.

  I blinked up at his handsome face and pressed my hips against whatever part of him was resting between my legs. “I bet you’re a beast in bed,” I moaned and licked my lips. “Will you choke me?”

  His mouth dropped open and he pulled back just enough for me to slide my arms to one side and use my feet and hips to roll him off of me. I quickly sprung to my feet, with my gun still in my hand, and took several steps back.

  He pressed his hand to his abdomen and took a minute to catch his breath. For a brief moment, I was worried that I’d actually hurt him. Then, he got to his feet and took two steps
toward me with his teeth bared. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he bellowed.

  Ignoring his outburst, I squared my shoulders and didn’t back down from his intimidation attempt. “It’s time for you to leave.”

  He glared at me for a few long beats and snorted derisively. “Agreed,” he spat and headed for the door. Just before it closed, he turned back and said, “I’ll be back, Tatum Cross.”

  “Josie, go to the safe room, right now,” I ordered. “If you haven’t heard from me in thirty minutes, make the call.”

  “Tatum, please don’t go,” she begged.

  “Safe room! Now!” I yelled and ran out to my truck. No way was I letting that motherfucker walk away after calling me Tatum.

  I pulled out onto the street and followed him, keeping several cars between us until he turned off onto a stereotypical country road. I kept him in sight but stayed back as far as I could. He turned onto a gravel road that was barely visible, and I followed right behind him. I hit the gas and hauled ass down the driveway so he wouldn’t have time to be ready and waiting for me.

  He climbed off his bike at the same time I came to a screeching halt and jumped out of the truck. “What do you know?!” I demanded.

  “Everything,” he smirked.

  I swallowed my panic and continued to face him, hoping to appear unrattled by his words. “You know nothing.”

  “Taylin Crawford born Tatum Kendall Cross, twenty-nine years old, never married, mother and father are deceased, one living sibling. Jo Crawford born Josephine Estella Cross, goes by Josie, twenty-five years old, recently widowed,” he said confidently and crossed his arms over his chest.

  Every muscle in my body tensed and my heart skipped a few beats before it started pounding in my chest. I fought to control my breathing and maintain a mask of indifference as I tried to formulate a response.

  “What’s the matter, pretty girl, cat got your tongue?” he taunted.

  He didn’t know everything. He knew more than he should, but not everything. I just needed to make him believe he did. Exhaling slowly, I arched one eyebrow and smirked.