by Emma Creed
BANG!!
My body jolts awake, and my ears ring painfully. Whatever I’d been dreaming about had felt so real the boom rattled my chest. It startled me, but I manage to shake it off, curling back beneath the covers ready to try and get back to sleep. Seconds later, there’s a second loud BANG, and I realize I’m not dreaming.
The noise sounded like it came from a gun, and was loud enough for me to know that it’s close. Fear pins me to my mattress like a bug trapped in a web, my limbs paralyzed, while my head screams at my rigid, tight body to run for safety. Instead, I duck beneath my covers and clutch my knees to my chest. Praying that this is a just a terrible nightmare and I’ll wake up real soon.
Silently, I curse myself for never locking my bedroom door. Especially when I hear the handle rattle, followed by the sound of the door opening and then quickly shutting again. The lock clicks, trapping me inside with whoever the footsteps trudging towards my bed belong too.
My breaths come out too loud, and the sound of my heart as it slams against my ribs makes me sure whoever is in here will hear how petrified I am. I’m trapped, helpless, and even if I want to scream out to Mama, I doubt my voice could pull together enough strength to make a sound.
My eyes squeeze shut when the covers are ripped away from me. The giant hand slamming over my mouth causes pure terror to creep up from my throat. The sound it makes on the way out muffles into the hand that suffocates me, and I fight hard. I lash out as I’m dragged backwards and forced tight against a solid chest that seems to beat almost as rapidly as my own.
“Shhhh. I’ma get you out of here. Okay?” The breathy voice that speaks in my ear instantly floods my body with relief.
Jessie. The voice belongs to Jessie.
I don’t have time to think about what’s happening, Jessie takes my hand and drags me towards the window. Then making sure we keep our backs against the wall by pressing his arm across my chest, he pulls back my curtain to check outside.
“Come on,” he whispers, forcing my window to slide up and then gestures his head out towards the thick tree branch. I look back at him, reluctant to do what he’s asking.
“Now don’t be pretendin’ this is the first time you’ve climbed out this window.” He cocks an eyebrow at me. How he even knows that, can’t be my concern right now. I have to focus. We’re in danger.
“It’s not that. Jessie.” I shake my head. “We can’t leave, what about Mama?” I ask, watching his face change, his jaw tensing the way it does when he gets mad about something.
“You’re gonna need to be brave darlin’,” he tells me, trying his best to make his voice sound calm.
Darlin’? This is new. He’s never called me that before—irritating little brat, sure, but never darlin’. It warms me all the way up because I’ve heard the other guys call their old ladies it sometimes.
“Ya hearing me, Hay?” Jessie interrupts my dreamy thoughts. This time his tone is firmer and snaps me back to reality.
“It’s too late. They got her, come on we got to move.” His words abolish any warm feelings. Replacing them with a heavy dread that sinks to the pit of my stomach.
“Hay… come the fuck on. We haven’t got time for this, I’m gonna take you to Prez! You hearing me? I need to get you safe.” Jessie’s shouting now. Calling over another loud strike, that’s followed by the sound of a bullet pinging the lock off my door. It’s enough to get me climbing on to the branch of the tree, survival mode kicking in and overriding my shock and panic.
Jessie is close behind me when I jump from the branch, my feet landing on the ground with a thud that makes my ankles feel as though they’ve snapped. He snatches up my top, hoisting me up from the ground and pushes me forward.
“Fuckin’ run,” he calls out as another blast sounds from my bedroom window. I hear a low growl that sounds a lot like it comes from him, but I’m too scared to look back. Having no idea where exactly I’m running to, I aim for straight ahead, braving a look behind me to check that Jessie is still there, and relieved to see that he is.
He’s clutching at his shoulder like it’s injured as he runs to catch up with me, and when he’s made up space between us he wraps his arm around my waist, opens up the door to his truck and pushes me inside.
“Keep ya head down,” he orders, as I shuffle along the seat and make space for him in the driver’s seat beside me. The engine starts, and my body slides across the bench seat as he swings the truck into reverse. We take off with an ear-splitting shriek of tires, and the sound of bullets ricocheting off the truck bed.
It isn’t until I look back in the rear window and our house is no longer in sight that I finally take a breath, which allows a new wave of panic to suddenly hit me. ‘It’s too late. They got her.’ I’m sure that’s what I’d heard Jessie say back in my room.
Mama?
Who had her?
“Jessie, where’s Mama?” I ask, despite being petrified of the answer.
“I’m so sorry, Hay, I wasn’t quick enough. I had to choose.” His eyes are soft when they glance across at me but they turn cold when he focuses back on the road, his fist clutching hard at the steering wheel. I notice his T-shirt, becoming darker and darker as it absorbs more blood from his wound.
“Fuck! Jessie you’re bleeding,” I scream, suddenly terrified for him, but Jessie doesn’t seem much bothered.
“I got shot…” he tells me casually, pulling out his cell and wedging it between his uninjured shoulder and his ear.
“Skid, it’s Jessie. Is Prez there…?” He speaks into the phone. “…Well drag him off her, this is fucking big…” Jessie turns his head away from me and lowers his voice. “…like his old lady’s just been shot fuckin’ dead kinda big, Skid, put him on.”
I’m surprised at the tone Jessie takes with Skid, the guy’s a tower block of a man and nobody disrespects him, especially not a prospect.
Daddy must come to the phone after what seems like a lifelong wait.
“Prez. Yeah, she’s with me.” Jessie takes his eyes off the road to scan me over for injury.
“Fine but shook up to hell… No there were two of them, I only managed to take one out. Sorry, Prez, I couldn’t get to them both… Yeah, shit reeks of Bastard... about ten minutes away, I’ma need the doc for myself, but she’s okay I swear.” When he’s finished, he lets the phone drop to the footwell then tells me to steady the wheel while he uses his good arm to drag his T-shirt up over his head.
“Here.” He takes the wheel back and tosses the shirt at me. I can’t help but look at his body, at the muscles that tighten around his rib cage and ripple over his stomach. “Hold it over the wound, press as hard as you can to stop the bleeding.”
I automatically do as he asks, my hands shaking uncontrollably as I hear the same words over and over.
Shot fuckin’ dead… Mama… shot fuckin’ dead.
Neither of us talk for the rest of the journey, and Jessie makes it in just over five minutes instead of ten. When we pull up at the club, Daddy and his brothers are already waiting for us in the yard. My door rips open the moment Jessie stops the truck, and Daddy pulls me out erratically checking me over before hugging me so tight I swear his strong arms will crush me to death.
“Princess, let Carly take care of you. I got to deal with business.” He holds me out from his chest and grips the top of my arms. “You’re safe now, ‘kay?” he assures me, pulling me back into him for one last hug before he lets Carly take over. I don’t want him to let me go. After everything that’s just happened to me, I want to be the fuckin’ business he has to deal with. When his firm grip around me is replaced with a much softer touch, I feel my heart break all over again. It’s not that I don’t like Carly, Skid’s old lady seems friendly enough. But just this once, I thought Daddy might make me his priority.
Carly offers me a sad smile as she leads me towards one of the parked cars and I look back helplessly over my shoulder, watching Daddy walk towards his men.
“Church,” he
bellows at his brothers.
“You too, son.” His glare lands on Jessie as he marches through everyone. I never had the guys at the club down as religious men, but they seem to spend a lot of time in the old chapel on the compound, and I guess now is as good a time as any to pray.
Carly drives me up the compound’s dirt track, all the way up to the big lodge on top of the hill where Daddy lives. Once inside, she guides me through the kitchen and into his living room, where we sit, and she hugs me while I cry.
She stays silent the entire time, what can she possibly say to make me feel better? Words aren’t gonna bring my mama back, and there is no comfort to the emptiness that seems to be growing hollower inside me. Tears soak my cheeks until my eyes dry out and my heavy lids finally close. I drift off with my head propped on Carly’s lap, her hand stroking through my hair.
I don’t know how long I’ve been out for when I feel her shift from beneath me. Her legs being replaced with someone else’s, and a much heavier hand taking over her long, lazy strokes.
There’s a glorious few seconds right before my brain reminds itself of what’s happened, and when I open my eyes to face reality, it’s Jessie who’s looking down at me. His bright, blue eyes brimming with unshed tears of his own. Seeing him like this gives me enough strength to sit up and comfort him. My hand automatically lifts to touch his cheek, and my thumb strokes the bristles on his spikey jaw.
“I’m so sorry, Hay.” His face leans into my hand, welcoming my comfort, and I pull him closer. His arms wrap around me, clinging to me as if I’m the anchor that’s keeping him grounded. “I couldn’t save you both. There were two of them. One outside each of your doors.”
“It’s not your fault,” I whisper. “There was no way you could have got to us both.” My words do little to soothe him, his nostrils flaring out, and the softness in his eyes turning to stone.
“They’ll pay for this. You know that, right? The Bastards will pay,” he snarls through his teeth. I nod because I know that they will and I want them to, even though I know that means in death. I want it more than I want my next breath.
“I’ll never let anything happen to you. You know that don’t you, Hay? I will always protect you.” Jessie’s hands grip the hair on either side of my face, his eyes holding mine and making sure I heard him.
I nod before wiping my tears away with my palm and bury myself into his chest. My heart feels broken beyond any repair, but just Jessie being here, holding me like I’m all he has now, is enough to let me know that everything will be okay.
AGED 17
I have a lot to thank Jimmer Carson for. When my pa died, he could easily have let me go into the system, but the man took me in as one of his own.
He moved me in with his own family, he loved me like the son he never had. All surprising actions from a man who was supposed to be soulless, a man that even his own club members feared. Still, you don’t become president of the biggest MC in the state by being any other way.
I’ve seen a side of the man that many others never would. I watched him cry when he said goodbye to my pa in the mortuary, heard the promise he made to his lifeless best friend to love me like a son. And that was the moment I decided I wanted to be just like him. I wanted a brotherhood bond that couldn’t be broken, not even by death.
I wanted to be a Dirty Soul, and I wouldn’t rest until I wore the same cut that my father had died for.
I spent the next four years living in Prez’s family home, but most of my time hanging around at the club. I watched how the other brothers worked, knew far too much for a kid my age. But in the end I’d always go home to them, to Hayley and Mary-Ann. My family.
I always wondered if Prez had put me with them to offer me a choice. He could easily have kept me at the club, paid a club whore pittance to make sure I ate and slept. Instead, he gave me that glimpse of normality. He gave me Hayley.
Hayley is everything a little sister should be, irritating, nosey, and a complete brat. Still, I’ve always felt an overwhelming urge to protect her. It isn’t something Prez ever asked of me. No, back then it was instinct, and one I felt the need to keep to myself. I sure as fuck didn’t want anyone thinking I was adapting to the civilian life Prez had placed me in. My blood runs blue, I was born to be a Dirty Soul.
My pa, just like Prez, had been one of the original Dirty Dozen, a founder of the club. One of Twelve kids, who twenty-five years ago sat down together to write their own rules. Forming a club that years later would be twelve Charters big, with hell knows how many members.
I wanted to make my pa proud, to follow in his footsteps, and as soon as I was old enough, Prez gave me the chance. At first, he offered for me to prospect at my dad’s old Charter in Utah, but it didn’t feel right. I’d been hanging out with the guys here since I was twelve years old. I belonged with them, and the way Prez’s mouth hitched up when I told him that, showed he was happy with my decision to prospect here with him in Colorado.
Over the years I balanced my life between the club and home, never really letting Hayley or Mary-Anne get too close, yet appreciating having them around.
It had been late when I got back from the club tonight. I couldn’t get to sleep, Hayley is growing up, boys were starting to notice her, and she doesn’t help herself. I’ve seen the tiny tops and the extra swing she puts in her hips nowadays, and it only spells trouble. I’m starting to wonder what shot at a normal life Hayley is gonna get with her dad being who he is. Hell, it wasn’t as if she could bring some nice kid home from school and introduce him to the folks. If Prez caught a kid looking at Hayley in the wrong way I’d put money on his parents receiving their son’s eyeballs, along with his dick via courier the next day.
I thought I heard footsteps coming up the stairs and slowly clicked my door open, just enough to see through the crack. That’s when I saw them, two dark figures creeping down the corridor of the home that had become mine, guns in their hands that were threating the lives of my family. The family that I tried so hard not to care about, but couldn’t help but love.
I watched the figures separate, each of them taking position outside the bedroom doors, and I knew then I was gonna have to make a choice.
I’m tall for my age, I use the gym at the club every day. The other prospect, Troj, has taught me enough about fighting for me to be confident that I can take at least one of them out. But both men are armed, as soon as I took one out, I’d be shot by the other, leaving both Mary-Ann and Hayley definitely dead.
The thought of losing either of them twisted my guts, and the fact I had a choice seemed to make everything worse.
In the end, impulse took over. I’ve lost a parent before, two in fact. I’d dealt with it. But I didn’t know how I’d deal with losing Hayley. I reached to the nightstand for my knife, then quietly crept up behind the guy who was about to open Hayley’s door. His gun fired, the bullet bouncing off one of the pictures on top of the stairs. And I didn’t have the time to register the lack of remorse I felt as I sliced my blade swiftly across his throat. The gurgling sound his body made soothed my anger, blood gushing thick and warm from his neck, coating my hand and spilling on to Mary-Ann’s perfect cream carpet. She’d fucking freak when she saw it.
The body made a thud as it hit the floor, and I looked up when the sound of another gunshot alerted me that the second guy had got to Mary-Ann. All I could do for her now was to get Hayley the fuck out of there…
I took my first bullet tonight, and I’d have taken a thousand more if it meant I could have saved Mary-Ann too. Never have I been more scared than I was when I pulled on to the compound. Prez had every right to blame me. Maybe there was some way I could have saved them both, but being a rookie kid, I’d panicked and cost him the life of his old lady.
I watch Prez pull Hayley out of my truck, hugging her tight before he calls Skid’s old lady over. Half the club are out in the yard, and suddenly I wish I was somewhere else.
Carly takes off with Hayley, and Prez thunders back towa
rds the club, his small army of brothers parting to make a path as he marches through them and heads directly for me.
“Church,” he roars, and as he gets closer, I see the look in his eyes that I’ve only ever seen once before, the same look he’d been wearing when he looked down at my Pa’s stone-dead body. Only this time there isn’t any room for tears in them, the anger crowds them far too much.
“You too, son.” He nods, grabbing my shoulder and squeezing it in his bear-like hand as he passes. I swallow the lump that sticks to the back of my throat, and wipe palms drenched with blood on my leg. I can’t feel the pain in my shoulder anymore, and the fact I should probably see the doc as soon as possible goes on hold. I’m about to go to church, a place prospects never get to see. This is the day I’ve waited for since I was five years old and had to wait out in the hall for my pa, while he and the brothers in Utah discussed business. I’m finally about to enter church for myself, and all I’m wearing is fuckin’ sweatpants.
I try not to let being in the room effect my recollection of what the fuck has just gone down. I know how vital the finer details can be, and I tell the brothers as much as I can remember. When Prez hears what’s happened, he shouts his orders to the others. Grimm and a clean-up team are sent to the house to get rid of the Bastard’s body, and Skid goes to fetch the doc. One by one the brothers clear out the room, all knowing there’ll be no sleeping or fucking tonight. I’m about to follow the last of them out, but get halted by Prez’s voice.
“Not you, son, you stay. Me and you gotta talk.”
I watch him stand up from his seat at the head of the table, walk over to the cabinet, and pull out a bottle of single malt with two glasses. He places them on the table and half-fills them.
“Your daddy brought me this bottle the day Hayley was born….” he starts. “Knowing ya pa he would’ve had ten cases of the stuff stolen from an Irish import, but it was the thought that counted.” I snort a laugh that matches his, anxiously taking the glass he offers from his hand.
