Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

Isla

T he world spun as Butcher finally set me down on my feet. One of the men had taken Donna from me, and I frowned as Butcher held out his hand.

"Keys."

"No way. That's a rental," I told him, crossing my arms over my chest. I knew exactly what they were planning to do with that car. I hadn't sprung for the insurance and blood stains all over the upholstery were going to cost me dearly. There was no way they were loading all those bodies in there and not getting blood all over.

"Have it your way."

"What does that-" I gasped as his hands began roaming all over my body. "Hey!" I yelped as he squeezed my ass, then let his fingers slide between my legs. It was hard to bite back the moan. Almost as difficult as it was to step away from his seeking hands. "My keys aren't there," I pointed out.

"Nope, but why give up an opportunity?" His smile was pure sin .

Good Lord, someone needed to get this man under control. He was a menace to women everywhere and I wasn't immune.

"Keys, Terror."

I frowned at him. "What did you just call me-" I jumped as his hand dug into my pocket and closed over my keys. "Okay, you handsy mother-"

His lips covered mine and my thoughts stuttered and died. I should have fought. I should have done anything besides melt against him, but it was too much. He was the first man in quite a while that I'd let touch me and the orgasms he gave me the other night were addictive. I was woman enough to admit that I wanted more. He spoke to that deep dark place inside of me. It was like he was as broken as I was and our pieces fit together. That was evident when he grinned at me, and even looked relieved, when I tried to stab him. What kind of man reacted that way?

One like me.

He broke off the kiss and tossed the keys behind me. I heard the distinct sound of them being caught but didn't bother to look. I was resigned. Confused. Honestly, I didn't know what the hell I should do. I was supposed to kill him, but I'd made my choice up on that roof. I wasn't going to end his life. Which meant I needed to get the fuck out of here.

"I need to leave."

He looked down at me. "Not happening."

"Randal is going to send people after me."

He frowned. "Why?"

"I didn't kill you. Worse, I helped dispose of the men he did send to kill you. So now I'm on his list."

Rage flashed over his features. "You're not going anywhere. Don't worry, I'll take care of him."

I snorted, and he lifted a brow in question. Shrugging my shoulders, I answered his silent question, "I don't exactly trust easily. And I don't rely on anyone. Besides, your first attempt at killing Randal nearly got you killed."

"First, you have a whole family willing to go to bat for you," he replied as he pulled a single key out of his own pocket. "Trust me. We won't let anything happen to you. Second, with you helping us, Randal is fucked."

His matter of fact compliment made my insides all warm and fuzzy. Not a feeling I was used to. I shoved those emotions down. I wasn't scared. I was fairly certain I could handle most men Randal sent my way, as long as I could get to my hideaway. It was the one place I knew I could defend against any number of people. But Butcher was telling me to stay. To trust them to help me. That scared me. That and the fact that I was considering it. My brows drew together as I thought that over. "You don't owe me anything. And who says I'm helping you?"

"You did just save our asses back there." It answered both my statements.

I scoffed at that. "I'm pretty sure you were all about to rally and take those men down yourselves." I wasn't being kind; I'd just seen them work as I'd followed them over the last few weeks. These men had an uncanny ability to get themselves out of scrapes. You couldn't help but respect their skills.

"Look." He gritted his teeth, making the muscle in his jaw flex. "I'd rather have you come with me willingly, but if you choose not to, I'll make you."

Well then.

I searched his face, then sighed when I saw the determination there. "I'll go with you…for now." When satisfaction sparked in those hazel depths, I narrowed my eyes. "It doesn't mean I'll be staying."

"It's okay, I know you'll come crawling back."

The bastard. Now he was just trying to get under my skin. And it was working.

He went over to his motorcycle. I watched his jeans strain against his muscular thighs as he got on and started it up. He looked over at me and jerked a thumb behind him.

Shaking my head while internally calling myself a fool, I got on behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist. My breasts pressed against his back and I had to fight back the urge to rub against him like a contented cat.

"Arizona doesn't have a helmet law," he told me over the sound of the engine, "but I'll get you one."

"I don't need one," I told him. I wasn't going to be hanging around long enough to use it. It wouldn't be fair of me. They had families living at their clubhouse. Kids. All of whom needed to be protected. Randal and his employers were going to be coming after me with everything they had. The target on Butcher's back would be forgotten until they killed me. And the entire assassin community would be on board. It was one thing to be hired to kill someone. But to switch sides and kill those trying to get their target? I was enemy number one now.

It didn't matter to me. Their opinions were less than shit to me, but sticking around meant I was putting Butcher and his entire family in even more danger than before. I'd explain it to him. I had to make him understand, because though I barely knew him, I didn't want anything to happen to him. And it made bile rise in my throat to think about the women and children I'd met being harmed because of me.

He pulled out onto the road and I closed my eyes as the wind whipped past. No wonder these men loved their bikes. It was like nothing could touch me here. The wind created a bubble around us that couldn't be penetrated. My eyes closed as a smile spread over my face.

The ride was too short. I was tempted to ask him to go around the block again, but most of his brothers were there with us, and I was sure they were eager to get home and check on their families. I stepped off the bike and shoved my hands in my jean pockets as we walked into the clubhouse.

Anxious faces met us at the door. The women looked relieved to see their men in one piece, then they focused on me.

"You left," Seek accused.

"Sorry," I muttered, shame taking over.

"We were worried about you," Sloane added. Her voice was soft, but damn I felt like a kid being scolded .

"Are you okay?" Eva asked, worry heavy in her tone.

"I'm fine." They all stared at me, waiting, expectant. I didn't know what they wanted. I didn't have any friends. Didn't have sisters. No cousins. My mom had dropped me off at my grandmother's when she realized she couldn't handle me, and disappeared. Grandma died two weeks later. Not by my hand. I was only seven when it happened. I'd been found and put into the foster system.

What a nightmare that had been. Never wanted. Always scorned. I wasn't lucky enough to find a kind family who wanted to take care of me. Nope. I'd been given to people scamming the system. They wanted the paycheck that came along with me. So I kept to myself. Learned to never rely on anyone but myself. And now here were these women. They were genuine. How was I supposed to handle them?

"I-" Swallowing back sharp words that would only hurt their feelings—it was my defense mechanism, but I found I didn't want to use it on them—I gave Butcher a helpless look.

Understanding flashed in his eyes. "She's fine. She actually ended up helping us out," he told the group. "Lock wants to talk with us," he added.

The women nodded, smiling now.

"When you're done drop her by my place," Kit offered. "We'll have dinner together. A proper dinner where she's not handcuffed," she added with a firm look aimed at Butcher.

"Alright."

They moved away, going over to their men and disappearing with them upstairs one couple at a time.

"You'll get used to it."

I looked over at Butcher. "Used to what?"

"Having people care about you." His lips twitched as though he was as baffled, but amused, at the women as I was. "Not sure people like us will ever fully understand why they love us, but you do get used to it. As far as they're concerned, you're family now."

"Butcher-"

"My office," Lockout called out, pointing at Butcher. "Bring her. "

"Fuck, again?" he muttered. His hand went to the small of my back as he navigated me through the room and toward a back hallway.

Not everyone was here, Toxic and a few others stayed back to clean up the bodies. There goes my security deposit for my car. The women who were still waiting on their bikers sat down over on the couches and chairs off to the side and started chatting. It was all so...normal. Something that didn't describe me. Nothing about me or my life was normal.

We sat down across from Lockout and he pinned me with a stern look. "What do we have to look forward to?"

I glanced over at Butcher. "Nothing good. In fact, it'll be bad. Real bad." I turned in my chair and stared at Butcher, willing him to understand. "I have to leave. They're going to rain hell down on me, and anyone I'm associated with. If I stay it's going to put you in danger."

"I'm already on their list," Butcher said, not looking at all worried.

"You don't get it," I sighed. "Multiply their efforts by one hundred and that's how hard they'll be coming for me. You're a contract, a paycheck. I'm a liability, worse, an insult. I betrayed them, a message needs to be sent. If they don't come after me with everything then they look weak. It'll put everyone here at risk." I glanced over at Lockout, looking for someone to be the reasonable one.

He frowned at me. "Because you helped us."

It wasn't a question, but I nodded anyway. "But even more so, because I went against them."

"Randal's days are numbered," Butcher growled.

"It's not just Randal," I snapped.

"His clients-"

"Listen to me," I growled, glaring at Butcher. "Fuck Randal. Fuck his clients. They don't matter here."

"The assassins," Lock said, catching on.

I pointed at him, giving Butcher a desperate look. "I killed my own kind. Do you know what assassins do to those of us who hunt other assassins?" My laugh was humorless.

"So what's your plan?" Lock asked me.

Sighing, I shrugged. "I have a place up in the White Mountains." I'd bought it years ago. There was always a draw to Arizona that I didn't understand. I was born and raised in Texas, but came here often enough that I knew the state like the back of my hand.

"Fuck that," Butcher snarled. "I'm not letting her go off on her own to deal with the consequences of helping us alone."

"I didn't say we were sending her away," Lock told him, voice even and calm.

"You have to," I told Lockout, then I looked over at Butcher. "You have families here. I'm not willing to let anything happen to them-"

"I'll go with you."

"No," Lockout said, voice cutting through our squabble. It held a tone of finality. "Neither of you are leaving."

I shook my head in disbelief. "None of you make any sense. You don't know me. You owe me nothing. Why would you do this for me?"

"It's not for you," Lock answered me, but he was staring at Butcher.

Butcher nodded in answer to some silent question he read in Lockout's eyes.

"Besides, we're stronger together." Lock's gaze moved to me. They were hazel, like Butcher's, but they didn't cause the same internal reaction when he stared at me. "You're staying here. We'll take this threat on as a team. You drop the contract against Butcher and agree to work with us and we'll help you."

My eyes darted back and forth between the two men. "Do I have a choice?"

Lock's lips twitched. "Not really, but it would be easier on us all if you worked with us. We can always use another good fighter."

I considered his words. "What happens once the threat is eliminated?"

"We'll burn that bridge once we get to it."

They were going to toss me out on my ass. Which meant I needed to do my best not to get close to any of these people, especially the gorgeous man next to me, because eventually we'd go our own ways. "Okay," I agreed.

"Good." He leaned forward, his forearms on his desktop. "This means we're putting our trust in you, Isla. Don't fuck us over. "

I glared at him. "I don't go back on my word." Except for this one time when it came to killing Butcher. But these were extenuating circumstances. I couldn't explain why I'd broken my contract with Randal, but I knew it wasn't something that would happen again. And I knew for a fact that I wouldn't do anything that would end up hurting those women and kids. I wasn't a complete fucking monster.

"Can we really trust you?"

Lockout was searching my eyes as I responded. "You're willing to put yourselves in danger to help me? Yeah. You can trust me." It didn't matter why they were willing to help, just that they were.

He gave a decisive nod. "Figured." He motioned to the door and Butcher grabbed me by the bicep and steered me out of the office.

"What are you getting out of this?" I asked him as he walked me upstairs.

"I need to go help the others dispose of those bodies. Might buy us some time."

I doubted that. Randal already knew. He had eyes and ears everywhere.

He knocked on a door and when it opened he thrust me forward.

"Just in time," Jordan said with a huge smile.

"For what?" I asked, giving Butcher an uncertain look.

"You'll see," Dani replied, grabbing me and dragging me inside the apartment.

I grabbed the doorframe and gave Butcher a frantic look. My feet lifted off the ground. These crazy bitches were pulling me in, literally.

"Have fun," he said with a chuckle.

"Don't you dare leave me-"

He reached out and pried my fingers off the frame, I shot back under their pull and the door slammed behind us.