Outlaw Virtue (Rough Jesters MC Book 7) Page 17

  “Yes,” I sobbed, falling into him. “Yes!”

  Jonathan crushed me to him as we fell onto the floor, raining kisses on my face. “I love you. I’ve never loved anyone but you and I hope I never have to know what it feels like to not feel your love.”

  I pulled back, knowing I was a mess. “How did you know I would be listening?”

  He quirked a grin. “You always are, love. I figured if you weren’t, then I would come in and propose anyway.” He then held up the ring. “Let’s make it official.”

  I held out a shaking hand and he slid the ring on my finger, the diamond twinkling in the light. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Just like my two girls,” Jonathan said reverently, kissing my hand.

  I threw my arms around him again, not even caring that we were rolling on the floor like giggling teenagers. My heart was full of love for him, knowing I had found my soul mate, the man that would be with me until I took my last breath. We were so different, yet so perfect for each other.

  “So,” he said after a moment, smoothing my hair out of my face. “You think you are ready for round two?”

  I grinned. “More than ready.”

  Epilogue

  Halftrack

  I hated the heat.

  Wiping my face with my handkerchief, I stuffed it back in my pocket and moved on, the sound of the ocean making me want to dive right in, fully clothed and all.

  I couldn’t, which sucked. I also hated being this close to the massive body of water and not swimming. The gulf was where I had grown up and the sound was making me feel a bit homesick.

  Chuckling, I crossed the street, giving me a moment to look at it. After a few days in Mexico, I was already tired of the lack of air conditioning in the room I was renting, the lack of good beer at my disposal, and the fact that the gulf was right there, and I couldn’t even walk onto the sand.

  I wanted to; oh, how I wanted to.

  Turning away, I continued down the sidewalk, moving quickly and keeping my head down. I had ditched my normal gear for something closer to what the locals wore, hoping that it hid most of my tattoos so I wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb.

  Hell, who was I kidding? I was going to stick out like a sore thumb no matter what.

  But I was on a mission, a very important one, and I wasn’t about to get myself killed because of it. There was a resistance brewing in a small town in Mexico, one that was being led by a former Hell’s Bitch and a CIA agent.

  One that I needed to get in contact with.

  Chains had sent me here to scope it out, to see if they would be willing to partner with the clubs they’d left behind and permanently wipe the cartel off the map once and for all.

  That, and the clubs were hurting. After the fallout that had sent the couple to Mexico, both clubs were trying to rebuild their forces and instill some loyalty in their fellow members. We had lost a shitload of members that had been with the club for years, leaving behind the hotheads that could tear down everything that the clubs stood for.

  And no one was coming back. No matter how hard Chains or his wife, Widow Maker, who just happened to be the Bitches’ president, tried, people were staying away.

  It was hard to watch them struggle, but I couldn’t help them. I could just remain loyal and hope that the clubs came back to their former glory.

  That is, until Chains sent me down here. There was another reason I hated this town; one that he didn’t know about.

  One that I was going to keep to myself.

  Turning the corner, I walked away from the gulf, forcing myself to focus. I could do this. I could find Voodoo and Siren and beg them to listen to what I had to say. Both were levelheaded and had a good thing down here, making names for themselves amongst the locals.

  It was exactly what we needed in terms of building our forces.

  That is, if I could find them. The locals were tight-lipped about the Americans that were helping with the crime, giving me dirty looks and ignoring my wad of bills like they were tainted. Night after night, I went into some of the seediest bars I could find, but the answer was always the same.

  No one knew where they were.

  I doubted it. The town was small and the gossip rampant. Someone knew where they lived. Someone knew where they preferred to eat or buy their shit.

  I just had to find the right one.

  So, I had resorted to walking the town, hoping that I would just bump into one of them on the street instead. My money was clearly no good here and it wasn’t getting me anywhere.

  This was the last resort. I couldn’t go back to Texas without some sort of good news. Tension was high at the club already and to take this back to Chains would suck.

  That, and I didn’t like to fail at all.

  The club had given me a home when I didn’t know I needed one, a roof over my head, and money in my pocket to get my shit straight. I had been a fucking mess when I had come to the club, but Chains had seen something in me and helped me get my life right.

  There weren’t many who could say that, and I felt a loyalty to the club, even if it was falling apart around our ears.

  No, this was our chance. Chains had given me specific instructions to find the couple, offer my assistance, and then, after they trusted me a while, throw out the fact that the clubs wanted in on the resistance. “You are the only one that they won’t shoot on sight,” he had told me as I took the job. “I’m counting on you to pull through for me, man. If you don’t, well, I might as well tear this patch off my vest and forget this club ever existed.”

  I didn’t want that. I wanted to help the president, to bring the club back to the former glory we were used to.

  So, I hunted.

  Somehow, I found myself back in the center of town, pausing by a fountain to wet my rag and wipe my face again. It was fucking hot down here. Why couldn’t he have made this decision in December, when the air might be a little cooler?

  “Excuse me.”

  I froze, turning at the sound of the decidedly feminine voice at my back. The woman was wearing a loose-fitting dress, her dark hair pulled back into a high ponytail.

  And she was not Mexican. “Yeah?” I asked, thinking she probably had approached me because I wasn’t Mexican either. “What can I help you with?”

  She bit her lower lip, looking away. “I think I know you.”

  I laughed. “I doubt that, honey.” It had been a long, long time since I had been in these parts and I would remember her even with the number of years since then.

  “No,” she said, tapping her foot nervously on the stone road. “I do know you. I can’t believe—well, I’m just going to come out and say it. You and I, we slept together.”

  Really? “Did I like take your virginity or something?” I asked, surprised. Hell, I got around, but I hadn’t slept with anyone in months.

  Her gaze narrowed. “Really? That’s what you come up with?”

  I grinned, crossing my arms over my chest. “Listen. I haven’t been here in a long time, so you have me confused with another white dude, all right?”

  Her mouth tightened. “Trust me. I remember who I slept with and it was you. You have a tattoo on your back, a swirling demon or something.”

  Well, hell. I did have a tattoo on my back like that. “Who are you?”

  She looked around, her eyes widening as she caught sight of something she didn’t like. “Listen,” she said urgently, reaching out to grab my hand. “I don’t have a lot of time. I know who you are looking for. I can help.”

  Frowning, I shook her touch off. She knew I was looking for Siren and Voodoo? I had been discreet in my attempts. “Why should I trust you?”

  “Because,” she stated, clearly pissed off with me. “I’m the mother of your child.”

  Shit.

  END OF BOOK 7

  BOOK 8: The Rough Jesters will return in Wicked Legacy as Halftrack tries to find the truth about Cora’s claim amidst a hail of gunfire and bullets. But as he dives deeper into the fog
gy memories of their shared past, he’ll learn that Cora is no wallflower but a force to be reckoned with, all on her own.

  Wicked Legacy is available for Pre Order now: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07YLBHCN2

  A Word from Brook Wilder

  Thank you for reading OUTLAW VIRTUE. I hope you liked it as much as I did writing it. The story of the Rough Jesters and the Hell’s Bitches continues in a series of fast paced standalone romances that will take these characters to places that neither you nor they will have expected.

  There will be nine total books in this series and the fun is just getting started. So what are you waiting for? Once you ride along with the Rough Jesters, you won’t be able to stop…

  Tap the links below to grab the books from Amazon:

  SAVAGE ANGEL

  BROKEN BEAUTY

  CORRUPT HONOR

  RUINED MERCY

  SINFUL HAVEN

  TAINTED DESIRE

  OUTLAW VIRTUE

  WICKED LEGACY

  SHATTERED GRACE

  OTHER BOOKS BY BROOK WILDER

  SOUTHERN BIKERS SERIES

  WRECKED

  SHATTERED

  DEFILED

  PROTECTOR

  GUARDIAN

  SENTINEL

  MONSTER

  SAVAGE

  HELLION

  FRONTIER REAPERS MC TRILOGY

  DECEIVED

  BETRAYED

  FORSAKEN

  DEVIL’S MARTYRS MC SERIES

  DEVIL’S DEAL

  DEVIL’S SEED

  DEVIL’S BARGAIN

  DEVIL’S PACT

  DEVIL’S VOW

  DEVIL’S PASSION

  GHOST RIDERS MC SERIES

  BOUGHT

  SHACKLED

  UNDONE

  GRIZZLY MC TRILOGY

  TRAPPED

  SNARED

  TANGLED

  DIRTY CRUISERS MC SERIES

  RIDE HARD

  RIDE ROUGH

  RIDE WILD

  RIDE FREE

  RIDE DEEP

  RIDE HOME

  CONTARINI CRIME FAMILY SERIES

  CLAIMED BY THE DON

  CHAINED BY THE DON

  BOUND BY THE DON

  BROKEN HOUNDS MC SERIES

  RENEGADE

  REVENGE

  REDEMPTION