Phoenix Rising Rock Band: The Series

by Kathryn C. Kelly

  “Don’t,” Sloane warns. “I’ll punch the fuck out of you again.”

  “Fuck, aren’t you fuckheads tired of all the fighting?” Josh questions. “And, remember, Mason, Cash is Georgiana’s brother. Mine, too, although I don’t like to claim the asshole.” He snickers when nothing is funny about this situation. “You hit Cash again and you deal with me, and then Georgie.”

  “Are you threatening me, McCall?” Sloane demands.

  “This is spinning out of control,” Cash says into the tension. “Georgie doesn’t want any of us to fight. Josh, sit the fuck down before Sloane wipes the floor with your ass.”

  Josh snorts.

  “Shut up, dickhead,” Cash warns. “Sloane will give into Georgie in the end. In the meantime, he’ll break your fucking head. Remember, Kiln, the ass, is his brother. He’s only defending him.”

  Who would’ve thought Cash would ever be a voice of reason?

  “I’ll tell you exactly what he did, Sloane,” Cash continues, much to my horror, “then you have to see to your guests. Outlaw didn’t give me permission to kill him, so he’ll continue breathing.”

  “I guess I’ll have to live with that,” Sloane agrees.

  Silence falls, allowing my mind to spin out of control, as I wait for the moment my world, as I know it, ends. Sloane will hate me forever. After our cathartic conversation, earlier, he’ll never want anything to do with me again.

  “The moment you left,” Cash starts, “he called me to hang out. Being the nice guy I am, I took him to a strip joint that one of our support clubs own. He asked for an introduction to one of the girls. I fucking told him she was off-limits, a biker’s old lady. Motherfucker promised me he’d just buy her a drink. I believed him, so I left to get home to my husband, pregnant girlfriend, and kid. He left, and I thought all was well. A few days ago, all hell breaks loose because the chick revealed, Kiln stuck his cock in her, thus jeopardizing our relationship with the other club. The asshole is lucky Outlaw talked to the other Prez and promised to take care of Kiln.”

  “Outlaw blames you for introducing them?” Sloane asks, confusion in his voice.

  “Yeah,” Cash answers.

  To me, Cash’s story is filled with holes, but I can’t assemble my thoughts to figure out where. My brain is scrambled.

  “One day, your cock is going to be the death of you, Kiln,” Sloane fumes. He bought Cash’s jacked-up story. He leans over me. “I can’t believe you! Fucking with a biker’s old lady is a death sentence. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  I stare at Sloane, and somehow, manage a smile. “S-sorry,” I whisper, the meaning much deeper than he understands.

  “I bet you are,” Josh chortles.

  “Don’t tell me you’re sorry,” Sloane says. “Tell it to Cash and Outlaw. They’re the ones you pissed off.”

  “I w-will,” I promise.

  “Rest,” he says kindly. “I’ll have a doctor come see to you.”

  “Th-thanks, little brother.”

  He grins at me, then moves out of my line of vision. “Come on, Josh. Leave them to kiss and make-up.”

  “Please,” Cash says sharply. “You couldn’t pay me to kiss that motherfucker.”

  Neither Sloane nor Josh comments as they walk out. Momentary silence falls, then the other side of the bed dips.

  “You know, fucker, my little sister told me a story about her father-in-law and the inheritance he wants Sloane to have. She mentioned if he signed on the dotted line and died prematurely, you and Jaeger would get Rand’s estate. Isn’t it ironic that you call looking for a hitman right around the same time all this came about?”

  “I-I c-can explain.”

  “No, I don’t think you can, Judas. You intended to kill Sloane for thirty pieces of silver. There’s no fucking explaining that.”

  “S-so s-sorry. A-angry.”

  “Being an angry, stupid fucker is no excuse, Kiln. Didn’t you realize you wouldn’t have enjoyed the fucking money? You’d be too fucking dead.”

  “Yes,” I manage.

  “Sean’s a dead man, for more reasons than one, but he should never have taken the job.”

  “N-not S-sean anymore,” I puff out.

  “What?”

  I’d intended to drug Cash and get away, but I can’t stand and can barely talk. I know I won’t be able to drive. In a painful burst, I tell Cash about Montana. It makes him angrier that I know Raine’s brother is alive, when she’s still grieving his death. He doesn’t give me a chance to explain the reasons. He delivers a punch that sinks me into darkness.

  Keeping my eyes shut tight, I hold onto Mortician for dear life. I’ve never been on the back of a bike before. I might relish the experience if we weren’t going so fast, and I wasn’t leading them to their deaths.

  But not long after we finished helping Zelda clean up the dishes from the evening meal, did Outlaw demand to see me with the other bikers in the room. He said he’d gotten a phone call, which made him realize he couldn’t put off confronting Sean. Since I knew Sean and he needed the man’s location—apparently he’d moved his headquarters in the last twenty-four hours (according to Outlaw)—he summoned me to give up the goods.

  The biker insinuated Sean was hiding out. Unless he’d lost some turf to a rival, which I seriously doubted, that didn’t sound right. Yes, I knew of some of his hangouts but I wasn’t talking.

  In my attempt to save his life, I told him the only way I’d tell him was if he allowed me to go with his and his boys. Of course, stubborn man that he is, refused me. Then, I explained that I might have some sway over Sean because his girlfriend, Gloria, liked me.

  Of course, he pointed out that she hadn’t stopped Sean from sending out his boys to kick my ass. While that was true, I wouldn’t have the deaths of these bikers on my conscience. Therefore, I refused to tell him anything. Nothing any of them said swayed me.

  It impressed me that, as angry as Outlaw got, he didn’t once threaten to hit me. Then, something magical happened.

  “I can’t let you get yourself killed,” I’d yelled. “Meggie worships you and your death would devastate her, therefore, jackass, I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for her. She’s my new friend and I refuse to allow you to break her heart.”

  His entire attitude had changed. Suddenly, I was welcomed with open arms.

  “If you wanna risk your motherfuckin’ ass for my girl, then I ain’t fuckin’ stoppin’ you. Just fuckin’ duck when I pull my piece.”

  Shortly afterwards, in a whirlwind of bikers and testosterone, Mortician was told he was in charge of me. Outlaw kissed Meggie, and then we rode out. We went directly to the building where Sean lived.

  “You have to be buzzed up,” I’d explained, after we all dismounted. No one had replied to me, just spoke amongst themselves. When they announced they were going search the premises, I’d washed my hands of that situation. Stretch stayed outside with me. The rest of the guys disappeared into the building, returning after twenty minutes, quite frustrated.

  It was obvious they hadn’t gotten upstairs, vindicating me. Outlaw had then asked me for the location of another one of Sean’s hangouts, which was also locked up.

  They started off, without asking my assistance this time. Now, as we roll up to the diner, I gulp. Not only because light is shining through the dirty window, but because I haven’t been here since I found my brother’s blood.

  The bikes are backed into spaces in a perfect line-up. Outlaw dismounts without giving instructions for me.

  “Come on, girl,” Mortician says with a sigh. “I hope you ready for this.”

  I don’t know what he means so I don’t answer. He waits until all the guys are inside before he guides me to the door and holds it open for me. Vince sits in a booth with the other dude who never talks.

  They stare at each other, not bothering to give Outlaw the time of day, when the door that leads to the bedrooms open.

  And my brother walks out. Alive. Although the arm Chamber
s shot is still in a sling, his bruises are mostly healed. Relief sweeps through me, and tears rush to my eyes. I squeak, and then run to him, launching myself into his arms. Holding him tight, I don’t think I’ll ever let him go.

  “Montana!” I sob. “You’re alive! I thought you were dead. Oh my God. Thank you! Thank you!”

  In the midst of my tearful happiness, I realize my brother isn’t hugging me back. He’s standing stiffly, as if he doesn’t want me to touch him.

  Releasing him, I step back. “Montana?” I say, uncertain. What’s going on with him? And…and why did Sean tell me he was dead. And…whose blood spattered the diner.

  And…questions fall all over themselves, so many I don’t know where to begin. Maybe, with the basics? Why isn’t he happier to see me? How could he allow me to think he was dead?

  “Where have you been?” I ask instead, touching his cheeks and chin, grabbing his hand and squeezing.

  “What are you doing here?” he responds.

  His voice is distant and cold, one I don’t recognize from him.

  “What?” I give him an uncertain smile. “Outlaw…he’s looking for Sean.”

  “Out…” Montana’s voice trails off and he looks past me. He chokes and goes pale. “I can explain,” he says, not to me.

  “Don’t give a good fuck what the fuck you gotta say,” Outlaw responds. “tell me where the fuck Sean at and I might letcha fuckin’ ass live.”

  “You can’t hurt my brother,” I say, turning to Outlaw and glaring at him. “Only Sean can give that order.”

  He gives me a nasty grin, pulls his nine, and shoots the guy across from Vince in the head.

  Vince scrambles up and raises his hands. “Outlaw,” he whines as the club president trains the gun on him. No one cares there’s a dead body in this place.

  “Shut the fuck up. You two motherfuckers with your woman-killin’…” His levels the gun toward Montana… “Sister-pimpin’, contract-assassin, would be-rockstar-fucker-upper, really-bout-to-be-fuckin’-dead selfs.”

  I’ll never unsee the sight of a man getting shot in the head. And, yet, it zings to the back of my mind, when Outlaw’s words—accusations—dawn on me.

  “What do you mean woman killer?” My words sound slow and thick. I don’t know who I’m questioning. I tell myself it’s Outlaw, when, deep down, I’m really asking Montana to refute those words. He doesn’t. “Vince is the contract killer.”

  No one says a thing. Johnnie and Mortician give me sympathetic looks, as if I’m missing a fundamental piece of the puzzle. Digger pulls out a small bag of Cheetos from his cut, opens it, and starts eating. Val rests one foot on the wall, cleaning his nails with a lethal looking knife. Stretch has his hands shoved in his pockets.

  Would be rock star fucker upper. The comment chugs through my head and it feels as if all the air whooshes from my body. Memories of the night I met Kiln rush through me. He knows Sean because he’d hired Vince to do the hit on Sloane Mason. That’s why he was here.

  If Sean lied to me about Montana’s death, did he know my brother was alive? Did Kiln?

  Yes! That’s why he always talked about him in the manner in which he did. He wasn’t disrespecting my dead brother. He was judging my live one.

  “Montana shouldn’t pay for his association with Sean and Vince,” I say heatedly, wanting it to be that way. Ugly ideas are swirling in my head. I just can’t bring myself to think the worst of my brother. Turning and putting my hands on my hips, I send Montana a pleading gaze. “Tell them, then you have some explaining to do to me, mister.”

  It’s so hard to keep my voice light, when my heart’s banging in my chest.

  Montana scowls, then thrusts his face into mine. We’re nose-to-nose, but I don’t recognize him. His eyes blaze with dislike and hatred.

  “I don’t want you with me anymore,” he snarls. “All I’ve ever wanted to do is get rid of you. Every time I see you, I remember all the humiliation I went through on your behalf. But you’re so fucking stupid, selling pussy to keep me happy. I could’ve gotten you hooked on drugs and you would’ve allowed me to.”

  Each word is like a shard of ice piercing my soul. My hands fly to my mouth and I stumble back, shaking my head, tears sliding down my cheeks. Montana, my beloved brother, hates me…No! That isn’t true. I’ll never believe that.

  We ran a game on Kiln the night we met. Montana has to be doing the same thing for the benefit of Outlaw.

  I suck up my tears and nod, offering Montana a small smile to let him know I’m on to his game.

  “I was one of Sean’s killers, too, Raine. Understand? Doing jobs for him kept me safe. Money didn’t matter because I had you. Do you hear me?”

  “Why are you saying all of this?” I whisper, my tears starting again.

  “Because you’ve been the bane of my existence for a very long time. There are a few days when I love you. Remember you as my baby sister that I wanted to protect. But, then, I think about all the times you needed to keep your fucking mouth shut. I put myself out there to save you, yet you couldn’t hold your tongue to ward off punishments.”

  No, this isn’t a game. This is real, true bitterness. For so many years, my brother was my hero. My savior. My everything.

  However, he hated me. So much so that he got me into prostitution. All the times I thought I was helping us survive, Montana was exacting his revenge.

  “You always saved me from violent johns,” I remind him dully.

  He laughs. “No one else could hurt you.”

  Right. “I mourned you,” I start, sniffling. “I felt as if my heart would break when I thought you’d been killed.”

  He shrugs. Shrugs.

  As hurt and embarrassed as I am, seeing his stupid fucking shrug sets me off. I kick him in his dick, then launch myself at him. We fall to the ground in a heap of limbs. He grabs my hands, but I bite him.

  “You lying, dirty, rotten, scumbag motherfucking, fuckhead, fucking dick,” I yell through tears and rage, my fists flying against his head, face, and chest. He’s too busy using his good arm as protection from my blows to stop me. I see his injured arm, hop to my feet, and jump on it. “How fucking dare you, asshole motherfucker.” I jump on his chest, then sit on it again to punch his deceiving fucking mouth. “All the fuck you had to do was tell me to fuck off and I would have. I trusted you, asshole.”

  Suddenly, beating him bloody isn’t enough. The bikers are staring at me without judgment. Without surprise. Better still, they aren’t stopping me. I turn and go to Val, briefly noting Vince is on his knees, trembling. Fuck him, too. As a matter of fact that board I beat his ass with would come in very handy right now.

  “May I borrow your knife?” I ask Val, holding out my hand.

  He smirks at me, then hands it over without a word.

  “I’m cutting your fucking cock off,” I say, charging toward Montana again.

  He scrambles to his feet and limps back. “Raine, listen to me,” he starts, raising his good arm.

  Before I reach him, Johnnie grabs me and holds me around the waist. “Sorry, sweetheart, we’re doing the killing tonight.”

  “Yeah, Rusty,” Mortician starts, “better us than you. Don’t want death on your conscience.”

  “My name’s Raine.” It shouldn’t matter but if he’s trying to save my soul, he needs the right person.

  “Your fuckin’ hair got rusty highlights,” Outlaw tells me.

  “Russet,” Johnnie corrects.

  “What the fuck ever,” Outlaw grunts. “Mort got jokes, babe. He call all the girls by the color of their hair. Except Megan. Motherfucker better not call her Blondie.”

  I zone out from the conversation and the snickers. It isn’t important anyway.

  Montana stands, feet away from me, and yet he’s never been farther. “Did you kill any women?”

  He shrugs. “One.”

  My heart drops to my stomach, and I suck in a breath. “I see. And you were going to kill Sloane Mason?”

 
; He hesitates, looks in Outlaw’s direction, then nods. “Yes.”

  “Kiln hired you?” I continue on a swallow.

  “Yeah,” he says on a sigh. “But he called. I barely understood him, then a guy named Cash got on the phone and told me the deal was off.”

  I sag against Johnnie, furious, hurt, and disbelieving. Val stands beside me and pries his knife from my hand.

  “Raine?” Outlaw calls from behind me.

  I don’t answer.

  “You love this motherfucker?” he presses.

  “Montana?” I ask hoarsely, continuing before he answers. “I’ll never forgive him. I never want to see him again. Fuck him.”

  “You know he gotta die.”

  “What?” I gasp, squirming in Johnnie’s hold to face Outlaw.

  The president assists by coming forward and circling Montana. He has a cigarette in one hand and his gun in the other.

  “See, babe, sometime you gotta step the fuck back and trust that motherfuckers know what the fuck we doin’. I couldn’t fuckin’ get it the fuck through your head that Vince, Montana, Sean, work for my fuckin’ ass. But there been all types of bullshit goin’ the fuck on behind my fuckin’ back. I ain’t in the fuckin’ business of peddlin’ women, especially my own goddamn sister, and I ain’t puttin’ up with a fuckhead who abuse women. Hittin’ and killin’ definitely involved in that.”

  His green gaze lands on Vince. I can’t see the man but I know he’s kneeling in the direction Outlaw is looking.

  “You wanna look out for my woman? My ass ain’t gonna stop you.” He drags on his cigarette and releases the smoke. “But this shit?” Using his nine, he indicates the diner. “You coulda fuckin’ gave me a list of Sean hangouts and stayed the fuck at the mansion. Save you the fuckin’ heartache of the fuckin’ scene that just happened.”

  “C’mon, Prez,” Digger chortles. “That was entertaining as fuck. Chester the only bitch who know how to throw down like that. This little motherfucker got fucking skills. She beat a grown-ass man until he’s black-and-fucking-blue.”

  “That doesn’t mean I want him to die,” I blurt, not looking at Montana. I’m fucking finished with him. If I never see him again, it’ll be too soon. But he has to be alive so I can ignore him. “Outlaw, Montana’s a shit-ass, shit-faced, two-timing, asslicking dog-motherfucker. I understand that. Don’t kill him. No matter his reasons, he saved me time and again from my stepfather. I owe him a debt. A life for a life. He protected me, so I’m returning the favor.”