Protector: Silent Phoenix MC Series: Book Four

by Myers, Shannon

  There was so much that I still wanted to show her about the property. Initially, I’d planned on saving the tree for last, but yesterday had changed everything.

  Sixteen years later, she was still mine.

  It was something I’d never take for granted again.

  “Okay.” I took a deep breath and dropped my hand. “Open.”

  She stared up at the pink flowers spanning the length of the tree limbs before turning back to me. “It’s beautiful. Has it always been here?”

  “I planted it.” My voice began to shake, and I cleared my throat before trying again. “When I got sober.”

  “Look at you, babe. Biker, gardener, master of Spam. It’s like there’s nothing you can’t do,” she said, running her fingers over the thin bark with a grin.

  “It’s just—” I could do this. I just had to say it. “I planted it for the baby.”

  “What?” The smile faded, and her hand moved up, covering her mouth and nose.

  I nodded, suddenly wondering why it had seemed so important to bring her out here. “Slim saved my life when I wanted out. Reminded me of my purpose, and when I got clean, he was the one who suggested I plant somethin’ so I’d have a place to visit… to pay my respects.”

  Celia’s eyes filled, and she began blinking rapidly.

  “It didn’t seem right to pretend like it never happened,” I choked, fighting against the tears that I knew were going to fall at any second. Sobering up had turned me into a fucking crybaby.

  “It was like there was nothing to prove that he or she had even existed,” she said quietly.

  I nodded and swiped a hand over my eyes with a soft chuckle. “For whatever reason, I imagined it was another girl, so I planted this because I wanted to see those bright pink flowers and be reminded of her every time I sat out on the back porch.”

  “Jamie—” Celia’s voice broke, and she dug the heel of her hand into the center of her chest, fighting to speak through her tears. “Can you—can you just give me a minute?”

  I bit the inside of my cheek and nodded before squeezing her hand. On the walk back to the house, I lit up a cigarette and took long, desperate drags before sinking down into a chair. It took everything in me to stay on the porch as I watched her body shake with sobs.

  She knelt against the damp earth and placed her hands on the trunk as if she was praying. Early on, I’d spent my evenings in the same position, apologizing for the choices I’d made and the life I’d chosen to live. I begged for forgiveness and a way to make amends; to salvage what remained of my family.

  Sometimes, a confessional wasn’t a fancy box found inside a church. Maybe it was nothing more than a Texas Redbud sitting in the middle of a pecan orchard.

  My cell phone vibrated from my pocket, and I pulled it free to see that it was the club. “What’s goin’ on?”

  “Got an update on your gangbanger,” Bear said casually.

  “He finally decide to give up his friends?”

  “Not even after I branded his ass,” he chuckled.

  I shook my head and looked up to make sure Celia wasn’t headed toward me before hissing, “You branded him?”

  “Yeah, shit gets boring after a few hours. All he wants to do is sleep. Went pokin’ around in some of those abandoned units and found a fuck load of branding irons. Some asshole was into some kinky shit.”

  “Bear,” I said slowly. “It ever cross your mind that some asshole might’ve been a rancher?”

  “You know, that actually explains the weird as fuck symbols. Anyway, he ain’t gonna be with us much longer, and I know you got shit goin’ on, but thought you’d wanna know. I’d be happy to put him down.”

  “I’ll handle it.” I stabbed the cigarette butt into the ashtray and immediately lit up another.

  “You got it, boss.” Bear ended the call, and I sat back with a sharp exhale. Things were moving too fast.

  I’d wanted the entire weekend with her before dealing with him. For over an hour, Celia sat beside the tree, talking and crying, while I chain-smoked and tried to come up with what I was going to say.

  She glanced at the overflowing ashtray with raised eyebrows as she climbed the porch steps before snagging the cigarette from my hand and dropping into the chair beside mine.

  “Remind me to send Slim a fruit basket,” she finally said, exhaling a cloud of smoke with a cough. “Thank you… for all of it. I mean it. I was convinced that I’d never survive if I stopped to let myself fall apart, but I feel more alive than ever. It’s like being awake for the first time in years.”

  She passed the cigarette back over to me, resting her head on her hand as she stared out toward the tree. Her face was splotchy and streaked with tears, but to me, she’d never looked more beautiful.

  What had taken me years, she’d figured out in a weekend, which meant it was time.

  “Got somethin’ you need to know.”

  “I’m not sure I can take much more today, Jamie,” she said with a laugh. “I think I’ve cried all the tears I can.”

  “I know, but you deserve to know the truth—”

  She cocked her head to the side. “About what? What’s left that we haven’t already discussed?”

  “Manny,” I stated flatly.

  Celia’s mouth twisted up, and she looked down, rubbing her palms along the skirt of her dress. “I hope you made him suffer…”

  “Come here.” I tugged her up and into my lap. “Look at me. I told you I’d teach you how to kill a man properly, but I wanted you to be ready. Unfortunately, time is workin’ against us right now.”

  She fidgeted with her earring before bringing her eyes up to meet mine. “I guess I’m not following…”

  “Manny’s alive, Celia. But, according to Bear, he ain’t gonna be with us for much longer, so you say the word, and I’ll show you everything I know.”

  Her mouth fell open. “What—how?”

  I chuckled and tightened my grip on her thigh. “Club’s got some damn fine doctors on its payroll. I wanted to kill him, fuckin’ tried to several times. It’s gotta be you, princess. Nobody else but you.”

  She sucked in a quick breath and let her forehead rest against mine. “Okay. I’m ready.”

  * * *

  “Pres.” Crossbones nodded to me as we approached the entrance to the storage facility. “Ma’am.”

  Celia nodded somberly, waiting until he was out of earshot before excitedly exclaiming, “It’s like we’re detectives who just arrived at the crime scene, and they’re lifting up that yellow tape for us to cross, right?”

  I shook my head. “You do realize that what we’re about to do is illegal in all fifty states, right? I’d say that’s about as far from bein’ a fuckin’ detective as you can get.”

  She shook her hands out at her sides and cracked her neck, like a boxer warming up in the ring. “Okay, let’s do this.”

  “Celia?” Her green eyes met mine in question, and I pulled her into my side. “Just calm the fuck down, yeah? I ain’t shown you a goddamn thing yet.”

  The heel of her sandal tapped nervously against the pavement as I unlocked the door, and I paused to look back at her until she stopped. “Sorry.”

  I tilted her chin up. “Were you this nervous when you went after Manny on your own?”

  She shook her head. “No, but I was in a different headspace then. I never let myself consider what would happen if I failed.”

  “Hey,” I stroked her cheek. “I swear to all the saints that I wouldn’t have brought you here if I couldn’t keep you safe. He’s tied up, so he ain’t gonna lay a hand on you, but I need you to stay calm and follow my lead, okay.”

  “Okay.”

  I flipped the switch, and the fluorescent bulbs overhead buzzed loudly as they began warming up. Celia jumped at the sound and pressed up against me, clearly still expecting the Manny from before.

  “Where is he?” she hissed.

  “Princess, if this place gets raided by the cops, you think I want the g
angbanger strung up like a goddamn Christmas tree where anybody could see him when they walk in?”

  She shook her head. “But where is he?”

  “Imagine you’re me. Where would you put him?”

  I watched her eyes roam over the large metal building as she tried thinking like a criminal. “Someplace that wouldn’t stand out. I’d look for a basement; preferable one that was soundproof so that even if someone did come in, they’d never hear him.”

  Fuck.

  Hearing her describe her ideal torture facility left me rock hard. It didn’t matter that I’d had her twice since our afternoon discussion on the back porch; my cock was ready for round three.

  “Nailed it.”

  “I did?” Her eyes lit up in surprise. “Seriously?”

  I tapped a finger against the tip of her nose before leading her through another door next to the back office. “My girl’s a goddamn genius.”

  We reached the foot of the stairs, and she turned to me with a frown. “This is just a hallway. I thought you said he was down here—”

  “He is. Last door on the left.”

  Celia released her hold on my kutte and moved closer to the wall, feeling for a seam. “Got it.”

  “Good girl. Now, before we go in, you need to know that he ain’t the same man you faced in the motel. We’ve broken his body down but forced him to stay alive.”

  “I’m ready,” she said with a nod.

  I opened the door, and she immediately reared back at the stench of blood and decaying flesh. Keeping my hand on her lower back, I walked us over to where Manny sat against the wall.

  He blinked until she came into focus, a wide grin stretching across his face when he realized who it was. “Back for a third-round already, Ma?” he rasped.

  A tremor passed through her spine, but she stayed silent and took another small step forward, studying him carefully.

  “Your enemy will try to bait you into doing somethin’ stupid. It could be they want you distracted while they make their move or, if they know they’ve been beat, they’ll use it in the hopes of gettin’ a quick death.”

  Celia nodded to herself and pushed up the sleeves on the sweatshirt I’d let her borrow. “What do I do?”

  We’d swung by the house long enough for her to grab an old pair of jeans, but she’d insisted on keeping her sandals. I figured it was a mistake she’d only make once.

  “A gun is the fastest. Get the guy on his knees, press the barrel against his skull, and pull the trigger.” I smacked my hand against the metal on the wall, imitating the sound and sending Manny scurrying back across the concrete like the cockroach he was.

  “You’re smaller than most men though, so even if you got your hands on a gun, they ain’t goin’ to their knees without a fight. I calmly walked over and retrieved the trench knife from the old wooden table in the center of the room while she watched me intently.

  “For someone smaller, a sneak attack is better. You had the right idea with usin’ a knife before, but you needed one you could keep a sturdy grip on. Try this one.”

  Her fingers slipped through the rings on the brass knuckle handle, tightening as she turned her wrist back and forth. “This is much better,” she breathed before handing it back.

  “You’ve got the pointed tip, which is sharp enough to go in with little to no force. The tip should always be sharp enough that it slides right in. Because the blade itself is sharp on either side, you can come at your enemy like this…” I flicked my wrist backward and then brought it forward again. “Or like this.”

  “You find Hawk and Cobra yet?” Manny taunted. “Or should I ask your girls?”

  Celia’s lips curled in disgust, but she stayed where she was, waiting for my direction.

  I placed the knife back into her hand and walked over to the wall, jerking the rope with such force that his body seemed to fly off the ground. Celia’s eyes widened as she took in his flayed skin and a flush worked its way up her neck.

  I couldn’t read her.

  He exhaled a groan of pain as I hoisted him higher, and I grinned. “Amigo, the grown-ups are havin’ a discussion. Why don’t you hang out, and we’ll get ya in second.”

  “Celia,” he panted, setting my teeth on edge. “You… found them… before…”

  The monster thrashed against his cage of flesh and bone, begging to be set free. I should’ve cut his tongue out, but had held back, thinking he might actually give us something we could work with. If I didn’t stay on guard, he was going to push her right into another episode.

  Keep her safe.

  The thought had been running through my head for years. I thought I finally knew what to do, but what I was about to show her was a gamble. There was no taking it back.

  She’d either come out of it stronger or retreat back into her shell.

  “Jamie,” her voice was husky as she moved in front me, but there was strength in the way she said my name.

  “Fuckin’ tell me who’s in control right now.” I scanned her from head to toe, searching for signs that an attack was coming.

  Her chin jerked up, green eyes narrowing as she met my stare. “I am. Just show me how to do it.”

  Fuck, she was perfect.

  I moved to stand directly in front of Manny. “You crossed my girl, which means you crossed me. You feel me?”

  “She knows where they are,” he forced out through cracked lips.

  “Show me, Jamie,” she demanded, bringing a smile to my face.

  I’d forced Celia into the underworld I called home, never once imagining how it was going to affect her life. Back then, it hadn’t mattered to me because what I wanted, I took.

  End of story.

  Women like my ma and Celia were easily broken. They were too good… too soft. The world didn’t give a fuck about what people deserved, or I would’ve been in the ground a long time ago. But the two of them? They’d deserved so much better than they’d gotten.

  My princess was a fighter, though. She’d taken on not only my enemies but me as well. I’d sworn after Donald that nobody would force me to kneel, yet she had me living on my knees, happier than I’d ever been before.

  “Who’s in control?” I reminded her.

  “Me,” she repeated, moving to my side.

  I jerked Manny’s head back, exposing his throat. “You can do what you did before, but that requires a lot of strength. Remember Remington?”

  Her lips parted, and an almost dreamy look crossed her face. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve sworn she was turned on. “I remember,” she breathed quietly.

  “I had to put everything into that.” I forced his chin down to his chest, causing him to cry out as I placed the tip of the blade against his head. “Now, you could go in at the base of the skull. Hold the blade flat and slide it in right here. Sever the spinal cord, and he’s dead almost instantly.”

  “It’s that easy?”

  “Not quite. You gotta go in between the vertebrae and cut through the spongy shit to get to it. Some guys aim for the heart or lungs, but neither is guaranteed instant death. He still might have enough in him to take you down.”

  Celia crossed her arms over her chest with a pout. “Well, what am I supposed to do? Besides jiu-jitsu.”

  I hid a smile, remembering how effective her martial arts skills had been… in getting me aroused.

  Releasing my hold on Manny, I took a step back. “There is one thing you could try that I think would work with your build…”

  I pressed the tip of the blade underneath his chin where it met his neck. “His carotid arteries run on either side. That’s what you’re aimin’ for, but you gotta get the blade in about an inch and a half. You could go in from the side and pull the blade toward you, cutting through the front, or you could drive it in underneath his chin, using your momentum to drag the blade down toward his shoulder.”

  Her gaze moved between Manny and me as I demonstrated both techniques before she took the blade from my hand.

&nb
sp; “See which one feels more comfortable.”

  It was surreal, teaching my wife how to take a life. I never wanted her to have to use what she’d learned outside of this room but knew it was absolutely necessary that I give her a way to defend herself.

  “Cobra…” Manny struggled against the ropes, fighting to take a breath. “He wants her…”

  “Who does he want?” she asked without hesitation.

  “Y-you. He wants you. I… was supposed to wait. Girls… off-limits.”

  The fuck?

  Her eyebrows moved up toward her hair as she turned to glance at me as if ensuring she wasn’t the only one hearing his words. “It wasn’t their idea to use my daughter as bait?”

  Manny’s tongue darted out before he admitted, “No.”

  That was why they hadn’t come looking for him. He’d defied Cobra’s orders and was a walking dead man by the time we found him at the motel.

  Without another word, Celia thrust the blade just under Manny’s right ear with a cry of rage and punched it forward, ripping his throat wide open and sending a spray of blood into the air.

  There was no gurgle or cry of surprise, he was dead before her arm came down. Instead of stepping away from the blood, she leaned into it, jabbing the tip of the knife into his chest and dragging it toward his navel with a roar.

  Again, and again, the blade connected with his neck and chest until his head fell awkwardly to the side, almost completely severed.

  “Celia,” I said quietly. “It’s over.”

  She shook her head and drove the knife into his belly again. “No, I can do it. I can kill him.”

  “Darlin’,” I moved closer, keeping my palms up. “He’s dead.”

  Her lips turned up into a defiant expression. “Not to me.”

  I’d felt something similar when I sent Donald to the Reaper. It didn’t matter how many people I put down; death had never given me the closure I sought.

  “He ain’t comin’ back. Give me the knife.” Her grip tightened around the handle, and I sighed, “Celia, you said you’d trust me. Tell me who’s in control?”

  “Me.” Her shoulders slumped forward, and she released the knife into my waiting palm before dropping to her knees and vomiting.