Home > Imperfectly (Dante's Nine MC #2)(53)

Imperfectly (Dante's Nine MC #2)(53)
Author: Colleen Masters

“They’ve been shitting on our good name for months,” Mac snaps.

“Just listen,” I plead, “Once they learned about my relationship with the Wraiths, they decided to send me in. Not to sabotage or hurt you, just to make sure Kassie was OK. And maybe try and fix things between your clubs, if I could.”

“And what a good job you’ve done,” Mac chuckles.

“I was only supposed to come around as a sweet butt, or a conveniently fuckable computer nerd,” I say to Leo, ignoring Mac’s jabs, “I never expected you to claim me for you own, Leo. I never thought I’d be so lucky. Snagging you was never part of my plan. You weren’t tricked or trapped, you chose me all on your own. And I’m so glad you did—”

“Enough of that,” Mac interrupts me, “I might be sick if you keep going.”

I bite my tongue, eyes fixed firmly on Leo’s face. Despite his stoic expression, I can see his anger ebbing away. There’s something new beneath that furious visage now, and it looks a lot like hope...maybe even a hint of that trust we’ve built up between us. I have to keep drawing it out, I can’t let him think the worst of me.

“I know that I kept things from you,” I say to him, “I’m so sorry that I had to do that. But Leo, the rest of what’s happened between us hasn’t been a lie. Not to me. I came here to help my best friend, but I ended up falling for you in the meanwhile. I never planned that, but that’s what happened. Leo, I think I’m falling for—”

“Shhh,” Mac hisses, ears pricking up, “Shut up for a second.”

The four of us hold perfectly still, listening to the sound of the rain against this giant tin can. But beneath the cacophony of stinging drops, a faint rumble swells. I lock eyes with Kassie across the table as it becomes all too clear what that growing sound is: a swarm of motorcycles descending on the Wraith’s Nest. Nine motorcycles, if I had to guess.

“Looks like the cavalry has arrived,” Mac snarls, grabbing his gun, “Let’s roll out the welcome wagon, Leo.”

“Wait,” I plead, grabbing onto Leo’s arm, “You have to listen to me—”

“I have listened, Kelly. And now it’s time to act,” he says gravely, shaking me off with all the restraint he can muster.

“You don’t understand,” I urge, “I’ve figured out what’s going on, who’s trying to—”

“No time sweetheart,” Mac says, striding toward the door, “Come on, Leo.”

“Leo, please,” I beg, springing up from the table as he walks away, “You have to—”

“Stay in here,” he commands, holding up a firm hand to stop me in my tracks, “I’ll deal with the two of you after.”

“After what?” Kassie whispers.

“Just...after,” Leo says, his face pulled into an anguished grimace, “Don’t. Move.”

And with that, Leo storms out of the RV and slams the door behind him. I rush to follow, but the deadbolt snaps into place before I can catch him.

“No!” I scream, pounding my fists against the pockmarked door, “Leo! Don’t—”

“It’s too late,” Kassie says, staring out the window at the pouring rain, “They’re already here, Kelly.”

I bolt over to join her at the window and feel time grind to a screeching halt. Nine sets of headlights cut through the stormy afternoon, bearing down on the compound. Dante’s Nine has arrived in full force to rescue Kassie. Mac and Leo stride out to meet them as the rest of the Wraiths pour out of the chapel. Each man’s face is set in a deep scowl, their fists balled into angry fists. This is no mere confrontation. This is a battle about to begin.

“What are we going to do?” Kassie asks, sounding younger than I’ve ever heard her.

“We have to tell them what’s really going on,” I say quickly, “We have to tell them about Tot. And Lorenzo—”

“How, a fucking smoke signal?” she snaps, “We’re locked in here, they’re out there. It’s too late.”

I stare helplessly through the rain-streaked window as the Nine skid to a halt at the center of the Wraith’s Nest. The Devil’s Wraiths stride out to meet them dead on, creating an impenetrable barrier between the Nine and the RV where Kassie and I are trapped. I watch as Declan swings down off his Harley and rips off his helmet, squaring off against Leo. The two men storm toward each other, their shoulders high and tight with tense fury.

“They’re going to kill each other,” I whisper, and the second the words leave my mouth I know that they’re true. If we don’t stop them, if I don’t stop them, either my or Kassie’s man isn’t going to live to see tomorrow.

“Declan, no...” Kassie whispers, fat tears sliding down her cheeks. In a fight between Declan and Leo, it’s anyone’s guess who would win. But with the damage they could do to each other, even the winner of that fight would be ruined.

I wrench my eyes away from the unfolding scene, searching wildly around the RV for something, anything that might help. As the raised voices of Leo and Declan carry into our metallic cell, my eyes land on the heavy frying pan that Kassie’s been arming herself with during her captivity. Without pausing to think, I snatch up the cast-iron tool and turn toward the window.

“If I were you,” I say to Kassie, “I’d maybe duck.”

“Duck? Why?” she asks, turning to face me as I cock back the pan with both hands. “Kelly, what the—?!”

I slam the frying pan against the RV window, sending a deep crack snaking along the glass. Kassie cries out as I raise my arms again and smash the heavy object once more against the glass. I rain blow after blow down against the flimsy barrier until it shatters into a thousand pieces. Shards of glass explode into the rainy afternoon as the window falls away. Letting the pan drop to the floor, I kick the sharp, jagged edges out of the window frame. A gust of wet air surges into the RV through our brand new escape hatch. Kassie stares at me, wide-eyed, as I let out a startled laugh.

“It worked,” I say.

“I’ll say,” Kassie replies.

“You coming?” I ask, nodding at the busted window.

“You are one crazy bitch,” she breathes, “I love it.”

Adrenaline pulses thickly through my veins as Kassie lays her leather jacket across the hazardous window frame. I grab onto the gaping hole and hoist myself up. At once, my curls start whipping around like mad in the gusting wind. I’m pelted with thick drops as I clamor through the window, squinting up at the fight unfolding between the clubs.

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