Pulling His Trigger (Ghost Riders MC Book 4) Read online

  The nurses rush out from behind the desk, and I walk over and gently place Mac in a nearby wheelchair.

  “Her water broke,” I look down at my watch and back at the nurse, “thirteen minutes ago.” I can feel panic start to rise, and I know the baby will be here any second. “We don’t have time to sit around and talk. We need doctors and nurses. Someone needs to boil water.”

  Mac kicks my shin, and I lean over, grunting.

  “Simmer down, Shield. I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna shoot you if you don’t calm the fuck down.”

  Taking a deep breath, I look over and see the nurses shake their heads at us. They wheel Mac down the hall and over to the elevators, and I follow. They hit the button for the maternity floor, and I just stand there, tapping my foot and willing the elevator to move faster.

  I feel a shock in my shin again and look down to see Mac raising one of the rubber bullets at me. I throw my hand up and take a step back, realizing she would be all too happy to use it right now.

  When we finally get her to the room and the doctor comes in, she looks her over and checks to see how far she’s dilated. I’ve read every book, so I know what to expect. I just forgot all of it the second MacKenzie stood up after breakfast and said she thought her water broke. All of that important information went right out of my head, and now all I can think is, the baby is coming, the baby is coming, it’s time.

  “Well, your water broke, but you’re only dilated to four centimeters. How are your contractions?”

  It’s then I remember contractions. That Mac is supposed to be having them and I’m supposed to be timing them. Oh God, I’ve failed already.

  “They are getting closer. About every four minutes now.”

  I sigh with relief, thanking God one of us remembered. I start pacing, unable to think straight. I need to move.

  The doctor talks to me and Mac for a few minutes and says we are going to wait and see how she progresses, but with the size of the baby, a C-section may be a possibility.

  Kneeling down beside the bed, I take MacKenzie’s hand and try to think of what I should be doing. “Ice chips?” I ask, looking around the room. “Aren’t I supposed to be feeding you those?”

  Mac rolls her eyes, but then another contraction hits her and she squeezes the life out of my hand. I thank God I’m kneeling because her grip would have sent me to my knees.

  “Just shut up, Vince. Just shut up and be pretty. I’ve got this.”

  I thought labor would be this very delicate, soft, and warm experience. I had this image in my mind that we would go in and a baby would come out and we would just glow.

  It was nothing as I imagined it.

  Mac fractured three fingers in my left hand before the doctors agreed that she’d need a C-section. After she got the good drugs and they got the baby out, it was all smooth sailing. But those hours up until that moment were like something out of The Exorcist, and my woman became a beast. I think I may have actually been afraid of her for a moment, but then I realized that if that’s the kind of mother she’s going to be, our child will always be loved and fiercely protected.

  She endured hours of pain for our baby before she finally got the C-section. If her body hadn’t been so small, I think she’d still be at it. Mac was worried about the kind of mom she would be, but she’s only just begun and she’s already more amazing than she ever thought.

  I look over and watch her feed our baby girl as one of the nurses wraps my hand. They can’t do much for me other than that, so I’ll just have to deal with it. It was worth it though, holding Mac’s hand and helping her bring our little one into the world. Our daughter.

  When the nurse is finished, I walk over and sit on the bed next to Mac and watch the two of them together.

  “She’s fallen asleep,” Mac whispers, holding her back a little and covering her breast up.

  Any minute now my sisters and her brothers are going to storm through those doors, and we won’t have another second alone. Hell, I’ve only held her for a moment myself before Mac was wanting her back in her arms.

  Looking up, I see Lucias peek his head in, and I smile at him.

  “It’s okay, man, send them in.”

  He nods and then the door shuts for a half second, then burst open and the room fills with people.

  I look at Mac, and she’s smiling so big I can see tears in her eyes. She’s so happy and so full of love. I lean down, kissing her lips.

  Looking around the room, I decide to make the announcement. “Ladies and gentlemen. I’d like to present our daughter, Angelina Vincenza Cassano.”

  My sisters melt into puddles of tears and kisses and hugs. The guys all give me pats on the back and lean down to embrace Mac. It's a great day, and our little girl is so lucky to have so many people that love her. We all are.

  THE END

  Lucias Houston is president of the Ghost Riders MC. He carries the club on this shoulders with nothing but his brothers on his mind. Until he lays eyes on her.

  Elizabeth “Izzy” Force is a veterinarian who spends her time either working, or gaming online. Her life is simple and she likes it just fine…until a baby bulldog pulls in the hottest-looking beast of a man she’s ever seen.

  They come from two very different worlds, but they’re about to collide. Can Lucias convince Izzy he’s worth the risk?

  Warning: This is an MC book like no other. There’s no cheating, no sweet butts, and it has all the sweet, cheesy goodness Alexa Riley stirs up. Saddle up and ride!

  This one goes out to all the people who waited each week (not so patiently) for every chapter. Thank you for sticking with us… we hope it was worth it!

  Chapter 1

  Izzy

  Sitting on the end of the bed in the dark, I rub my eyes, trying to relieve a little bit of the tension. Even after my shower, I still feel the day coating me. At least I have the next few days off from the clinic. Maybe I can finally catch up on some sleep.

  Sadly, I was actually relieved when I got the call from the police department to tell me my brother was in jail. He won’t be out until he sees the judge, and there’s nothing I can do for him until that point. That takes things out of my hands, and I don’t have to decide if I’m willing to fork over the money to bail him out. Again. Who am I kidding? I know I would.

  “I’m sorry, Grandma,” I whisper.

  No matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to keep my brother out of trouble. He has a way of falling into it, and I know for a fact he’s mixed up with a motorcycle gang now. It’s something I know nothing about. I spend my days working and my nights with my nose stuck in a book. Or raiding with my guild. My brother and I couldn’t be more different. How we both shared a womb at one time, I have no idea.

  We’re twins, but while I went to college, made perfect grades, and wanted nothing to do with sex, parties, and drugs, that’s all Dusty seems to do. I don’t even know what he does for a living, but he always appears to have a ton of cash just as quickly as he seems to be broke. My guess would be drugs. He put our grandma, who raised us, through hell until she took her last breath.

  Pulling the covers back on the bed, I start to crawl under when I hear a noise coming from the front of the house. I reach for my phone on the night stand and come up empty. Shit. I left it in the living room along with my laptop. Double shit.

  I wait another second, just to be sure I’m not freaking out, but then I hear another sound.

  I open the bedside drawer and pull out my grandfather’s revolver. I’ve been keeping it in the drawer since my brother moved back home. It’s not that I am scared of him. No, I am scared of who he hangs around with. I came home early one night to find him and three other men in the living room, and after that, I’m not taking any chances.

  The feelings they gave me made my blood run cold. Dusty pulled me aside and scolded me for coming home early and interrupting him in whatever it was he was doing. I had to call before I came home to my own house? This house is equally ours. It was left to bot
h of us by our grandma, but he hadn’t lived here for years. Until recently. As much as it pisses me off that he expects me to call if I am coming home early, I did after that because I don’t have the urge to run into his friends ever again.

  I don’t know crap about motorcycle gangs, but what I do know, I want no part of. I’ll stick to my Warcraft guilds and gamebattle friends. I’ve never met any of them personally, but I highly doubt they look like my brother’s friends.

  Slowly opening my bedroom door, I listen for another sound. This time, there’s nothing. Maybe it was the wind, I think to myself, waiting for a few minutes, still not hearing anything. The alarm would have gone off, I keep telling myself.

  I creep down the hall and almost make it almost to the living room when a sound draws my eyes to the dining room. Without thinking, I scream and pull the trigger. The bang goes off louder than I thought possible, the recoil making my arm kick back, and I drop the gun.

  “Fucking shit, shit, shit!” I hear a woman’s voice exclaim before I’m crushed to the ground by a body so big it feels like a giant concrete boulder landed on me and knocked the air out of my lungs.

  The room floods with light, and I stare up at the scariest face I’ve ever seen. Scars run down his face in angry lines. His hard blue eyes look deadly. I push against him, and he actually yields to my efforts, but he takes me with him as he stands, grabbing me by my arm in a firm, unbreakable hold.

  “Find him,” Scarred Guy barks, his voice just as scary as his face. Some tall, skinny guy takes off through my house, and I study the man still holding my arm. He’s as big as a concrete boulder. “She’s losing a good amount of blood.” I look over and see a man on his knees next to a dark-haired woman who is holding her leg.

  “No fucking shit, Sherlock,” the woman on the ground snaps. “I’ve been shot. Vincent is going to kill me. I can hear his mouth already. I’ve been playing with guns my whole life. My whole fucking life. Never been shot. I do this one small task, and this thing shoots me.”

  Her eyes snap over to me, and she glares at me so hard she could give Scarred Guy a run for his money. I just stand there. I can’t seem to form a sentence as I watch what’s playing out in front of me. I’m not even sure if I’m breathing at this point.

  “Nothing, man. No one is here.” The skinny guy searching the house comes back to join us, a little out of breath. “Is she Pinch’s bitch?” he asks, nodding at me.

  I know Pinch is my brother. I’ve heard a few other people call him that. I look around the room to see everyone is wearing leather jackets. The one leaning over the dark-haired woman makes the writing on the back easy to read. Ghost Riders.

  “I knew I should have shot that little shit with more than a rubber bullet,” the woman says, trying to pull herself to her feet. But as she does, her legs give out on her, and she lands back down on her ass.

  “Goddamn it, Casper! Sit the fuck still.”

  “I’m not going to a hospital.” She pushes the man, and I see the bloodstain spread on her jeans.

  “Stop that! You’re making it worse. You need medical attention. Stitches at the least. That much is clear,” I exclaim, unable to help myself.

  “You a doctor or some shit?” the scarred man gripping my arm asks, looking down at me.

  “No. Veterinarian.”

  “Good enough. Get Cas in the truck and clean that blood off the floor.”

  The man next to Cas picks her up and heads out the front door while she mumbles about some Vincent guy. Why hasn’t the alarm gone off? The skinny guy picks up the gun I dropped and cleans up the blood on the floor with his shirt.

  “You got a medical kit?”

  I nod my head.

  “Good. Get it. If you try something…” He doesn’t have to say what will happen if I try something. I get the message loud and clear. I won’t be trying anything.

  He finally lets me go, and I run to the front door and pick up the medical bag I keep for emergency calls.

  “Make sure everything is cleaned up. I don’t know if anyone heard that shot,” Scarred Guy barks.

  “Got it, Savage. See you at the compound.”

  Savage grabs me by the arm once again and pulls me outside. As the cold air hits my legs, I realize I have nothing on but a shirt that barely hits mid-thigh, underwear, and socks.

  I start to protest, but he pushes me into a truck. Cas is lying on the back seat, and the man who carried her out sits behind the wheel. Savage, whose every inch embodies his name, slams the door and informs me of my fate.

  “She dies, you die.”

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  Pulling Her Trigger

  Beauty and the Biker

  Letting Her Lead

  Pulling His Trigger … May 2016

  Knox’s story… 2016

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