Honor and Redemption

by A. C. Bextor

  Leaning forward, he touches his crusted chapped lips to mine, and I fight the urge to gag. Noticing this, he sits back, smiling in self-proclaimed victory.

  “She’ll bow her head for me, before and after I wipe my cum from her chin.”

  A dark overhang of malevolence filters into the room, and for the first time, I lose his attention.

  “Have you told Terese goodbye?”

  Seveena.

  My father’s smile turns sinister. Casually, as though a trivial exchange has taken place, he gestures and counters, “If we still have an agreement, she’s yours.”

  “Get her from the floor,” Seveena orders. My arms are wretched and I’m lifted into the air.

  Unable to find my footing, my back chastens in pain.

  An explosion rings through the distance, piercing my ears. I’m forced to my knees, the weight of gravity and my father’s foot holding me in place.

  Heavy black smoke penetrates the room. My father roars with fury, instructing men who I can’t see coming or going.

  Seveena commands others, her panic spoken through a mix of broken English and fluent Russian. I don’t understand most of what she’s saying.

  Everything that happens next is a blur. A chaotic mix of terror and relief.

  Men screaming. Guns firing. Coughing. Scrambling.

  Chaos ensues.

  As I’m about to crawl my way out, desperate hands grasp my hair. More pain spears as my body is catapulted upward. My stomach pitches, threatening to be sick.

  “Stay on your feet!” my father roars, dragging me along with him toward the door.

  I cough, clutching his wrist, and searching for relief.

  “You want her?” he thunders, blasting a gun into a sheen of black smoke.

  “Stop!” I yell, falling onto the floor, latching onto my father’s dirty jeans for balance. His grip on my hair tightens and I cry out in pain.

  As soon as I’m upright, he shoves me forward, pushing my back to lead me toward the darkness outside. The gun in his hand is aimed steadily at my temple.

  Not again.

  Flashbacks of Tyrant, spewing his hate for this same man in my ear.

  Pyke, my beautiful friend, stepping forward to bait him away from me.

  Tyrant’s gun blasting, bullets whistling through the air, striking those I love.

  Not again!

  “Get back!” I scream to whoever will listen.

  As the smoke starts to clear, my attention centers ahead. Leglas stands in front of us, blocking my father’s only escape, and pointing his gun in our direction. Two men I don’t recognize stand at his back, both menacing, armed, and yet seemingly patient.

  My father pulls me to his front, essentially making me his human shield.

  “We’re not doin’ this,” Leglas hisses. His eyes rake over my body as I stand wearing only my bra and panties. “Let her go, Roberts. You have no options left.”

  “Fuck you.”

  Leglas smiles. “This isn’t cowboys and Indians, fuckhead. You’re a dead man.”

  My father’s mouth comes to my ear, his tongue licking its shell. At this, Leglas’s eyes blaze with fury and his nose flares in unadulterated rage.

  “Starting with him, Terese,” my father baits. “He dies first.”

  Desperation guides my instinct. “Please, Leglas. Don’t do this.”

  Leglas shakes his head, his dark eyes scanning the area around us. “Can’t leave you here, Blue Eyes.”

  Leglas takes a step closer.

  My hair is yanked again, my back of my head slamming into my father’s shoulder where he holds me steady. “One foot closer and her brains will spatter on the concrete ground.”

  To this, Leglas doesn’t outrage. He keeps his tone calm, and eerily even. “You do that, I’ll kill you slowly. Let her go and I’ll make it quick.”

  A loud blast from inside the building erupts. Turning my head as far as I can, I dismiss the dead bodies inside and outside the large metal door.

  Blood oozing from wounds. Bones breaking from skin. Burn marks. Bullet holes. Another ban of dark smoke seeps into the night.

  Terrified, I turn back to Leglas. My stomach knots at the view.

  More men are stepping up from behind the veil of darkness. Each wearing camo and black. Some wear masks, others don’t. All are heavily armed. I don’t recognize any of them.

  Then, total silence. Guns have stopped firing. Screams have settled. The smoke has cleared.

  All has come to pass as I stare at Leglas standing guard in the middle of it all.

  We’re alone. As far as I can tell, the angry hands grasping my hair and pointing the gun to my head no longer exist. The pain in my back and knees are gone. The burden of my past has been lifted.

  Right here, my father doesn’t matter.

  Right now, the only one who does is him.

  I smile with ease, staring into the familiar eyes of the man who saved me once from a broken heart. Now he’s putting his life on the line to save me again.

  “Leglas,” I call, my voice a broken whisper.

  Leglas shakes his head slowly, his gaze drilling into mine. “Shut up, Cricket.”

  “Everything will be okay,” I get out, my body growing fluid in the arms that hold it captive. “Please, just tell them that—”

  A pained expression I’ve never seen falls over Leglas’s face, his body wrought with anguish and regret.

  The hand not holding his gun darts out. Palm down, he lowers it a fraction while instructing, “Baby, hear me. Just be still.”

  That’s it.

  Just, be still.

  At the same time Leglas’s mouth falls open, a loud whistle flies past my face. The ring in my ears is deafening. The crack to the back of my head sends my world plummeting into darkness.

  “You crazy, stupid girl!” Vante howls to the night’s sky. His hand is cradling the back of Cricket’s head, pressing it to his chest as he rocks her limp body back and forth.

  Seems he’s as close to losing his shit as I’ve ever been.

  Cricket’s eyes roll back and around again as she fights to regain focus. Her arms lie limply at her sides, the front of her hands resting flat against the pavement. Smeared blood marks her face, with added bits of it on her chest, staining her bra.

  I’d tell her to wake up before Vante squeezes her last breath, but this would do no good. Vante’s in a state, and if she doesn’t pull her shit together to assure him she’s all right, and soon, he’ll likely strangle her with his own two hands anyway.

  “What the fuck have you done?” he bellows inches from her face. “What the fuck have you done, you stupid girl!”

  Jesus Christ. Enough already.

  “Give her to me,” I clip, bending at the knees, extending my arms to guide her into them.

  With his own knees to the ground, and Cricket held tightly in his grasp, Vante glares up. His venomous expression is akin to that of a rabid dog guarding his one and only possession. That possession resembling a very fresh, very bloodied, meat-filled bone.

  “Get back!” he roars back, spittle flying from his mouth. “No one touches her!”

  The fact he’s forgotten that not only am I his VP, but that I’m stronger, bigger, and faster than he is, attests to his state of mind. Having my own concerns about the hit Cricket took to the back of her head, and not wanting to fight over getting her seen to, I step back, slowly.

  I can’t take the bulldog on alone and not injure Cricket more. I look around the cement drive for backup, thinking Abram was right. Vante’s green in life experience, and now that someone he cares about is hurt, to hell with those who try to interfere.

  “Vante, we need to get her out of here.” Elevent walks over to insist. “Liam’s waitin’ at the clubhouse. He’ll look her over there.”

  “She’s breathing,” Vante informs those standing around, as if we couldn’t see for ourselves.

  “The hit to the back of the head knocked her out,” I explain the obvious. “So
yeah, idiot, she’s breathin’, and she’s gotta be seen to. In order to do this, you gotta step the fuck back.”

  “Goddamn it, Vante,” Elevent wades in, coming to stand at my side. “Give her to Leglas.”

  A slip of silence passes, and Vante looks down to Cricket coming to in his arms. Her head is rolling back and forth, and her lips are moving in a quiet mumble. He rests his shaking hand over her cheek and inhales an exhausted breath.

  His voice cracks high as he asks in a hushed whisper, “Why would you do something so fucking stupid?”

  “Vante, Jesus Christ,” Elevent prompts. “Enough!”

  Cricket’s body starts to shake. She’s still moving her head from side to side, but with more motion than before. This is good. She’s breathing, moving, and starting to cough. She’ll see better days.

  Vante, Christ, I’m not so sure.

  “I’m so fuckin’ pissed at you,” Vante punishes her further, leaning his forehead to hers.

  Elevent’s eyes dart to mine as his anxiousness grows. He’s as eager as we all are to get Cricket out of here. The less she sees, the less she remembers, the better.

  Taking two steps back from Cricket and Vante, Elevent points to them and barks at me, “Fucking hell. Just get her from him.”

  Vante stares venomously, tracking my every move. Grabbing Cricket under the knees and back, I take her from his hold. He lets me do this, but mirrors my position and sticks closely at my side.

  “This is almost done,” Sty advises, coming out of the still smoking building. “Nikolas’s crew has Seveena. Advay and the others are hunting down the rest of her men.”

  “Roberts?” I query in regard to Cricket’s old man.

  Sty rakes his gaze over Cricket in my arms and grinds his jaw, but states, “Fucker’s dead. Bled out from the neck.”

  Good. Exactly as I’d hoped. No morality loss to my already darkened soul.

  When one of Vlad’s men stepped up behind Cricket, my only play was to have her calm. If she was steady, she wouldn’t move. If she was quiet, neither would Roberts.

  Roberts was smarter than we’d given him credit for, though. Why he clocked Cricket with his gun before he took off to run and not just end her life is anyone’s guess. Maybe he did love her. Maybe he thought if he got away, he could come back for her.

  Fuck knows. I’m not a man willing to think that much into a psychopath’s line of thinking.

  “We needed him,” Vante asserts, stepping away in panic. “God damn it. We needed Roberts alive.”

  “No,” Elevent puts in with a firm shake of his head. “We needed Cricket back and Seveena caught. We have both. Roberts rotting in a shallow grave is an added bonus.”

  “What about Gypsy?” Advay queries. At his name, Cricket makes a feeble attempt to lift her head from my arm.

  Sty notices, walks to her and rests his hand on her shoulder. “Gypsy will be all right.” Talking to the rest of us, he adds, “Took a nick to the right shoulder. He’s with Nikolas, ridin’ back with him once I give him Cricket’s status.”

  “She’ll be good if we can ever get her the hell out of here,” Elevent informs with exasperation. “Tell Gypsy to take his time, cool his head, and give her some space.”

  Sty bursts out with a harsh laugh. “You’re fuckin’ kiddin’, right?”

  “No, but if it helps at all, tell him she’s okay. We need him to keep focused.”

  “You saw how he was before all this went down,” Sty argues. “Your boy is wired and itchin’ to rip someone’s ass.”

  Elevent frowns and glances at Cricket, then to me. I shrug, figuring if there’s one instance Gypsy and I agree, is that Cricket deserves an ass chewing to end them all.

  Looking down at her small frame, I smile just enough that the others won’t see. The little spitfire is brave, I’ll give her that. She’s also loyal, loving, and crazy all the same. But really fucking stupid.

  “How’s Nikolas?” Elevent inquires.

  Sty shakes his head slowly. “Not great. Took a hit to the leg. Stray bullet. Lost a lot of blood. Gypsy says he may need surgery, but down to his last breath before passing the fuck out, Nikolas refused. No hospitals. No cops.”

  “Doesn’t want any questions,” Elevent presumes.

  “Nope. Won’t risk shuttin’ down his work with those girls.”

  “Zalesky?” Elevent asks next.

  “Good. All his men the same.”

  Figures.

  “Vlad says he’s got outside interference and cleanup handled. We’re to report back to him when we’ve gathered and assessed.”

  Elevent relaxes, his posture at ease.

  “Tell Gypsy Cricket’s fine,” he circles back. “Tell him to bring Nikolas to the club. He’ll have Gypsy day to day and Liam close to make the call if something should change and we need to take him to the city.”

  Sty nods. “Will do.”

  “Let’s go,” Elevent ushers. “I’ll call Mia on the way, tell her we’re all right.”

  As we start to file out, I drop my gaze to Cricket. Her eyes are wide, her lips trembling. I’m not sure how much she heard, but it’s not hard to guess she knows she fucked up.

  Thankfully, we’re all right.

  And for the first time in too many months to count, we may be that way for a good long while.

  “Yes, she made a bad decision, but your point has been made,” Sunny defends, standing between Elevent and Sty. Both men look crazy mad, with enough mind to pull me to pieces.

  “Damn it, Sunny,” Sty grinds out. “Cricket fucked up. Let her take what Elevent’s gotta give her.”

  After we’d gotten back, and Vante was assured I was fine to stand, he waited outside my bathroom until I finished showering. Mia walked in my room a few minutes later, telling me I wasn’t going to bed to rest, but that Liam wanted to check my head again.

  She also hesitated to explain that not only Elevent, but Leglas and Sty, wanted to have a word with me.

  I had guessed this was going to suck. But their reaction to what I’ve done is worse than I imagined.

  I knew Elevent would be livid. Leglas would be pissed. The girls disappointed. But sweet, kind, level-headed Sty? I thought certain he would somewhat understand.

  Instead, he was the first to rip into me as soon as I entered the bar.

  Hell and Damn.

  “But just to say,” Mia butts in. “Like Sunny said—”

  “Just to say nothin’, Angel. What Cricket did was stupid,” Elevent clips. “With Nikolas dead, we have even more on our plate than we can manage.”

  Oh my God.

  My throat chokes, and my eyes smart with tears. My heart beats in my ears as all the air rushes from my lungs.

  “Nikolas is dead?” I whisper, grasping the edge of the bar for balance. “He’s dead because of me?”

  Elevent bends at the waist, his expression softening. His hand touches my shoulder, and I quickly jerk away.

  “He’s dead!” I shriek. “Nikolas is dead!”

  Pushing against the heavy wood, I start to stand. The room spins as my agitation turns to grief.

  Muttering, if only to myself, I frantically calculate what needs done. “I need to get dressed. I have to find Agatha.” Stopping to scan the unnervingly quiet crowd, I falter. “Oh my God. Nikolas is dead?”

  Using every bit of her small strength, Mia punches Elevent’s arm. I stop, sit back in the chair, and glance between them.

  Elevent’s face, no longer soft, grows hard. “No, Cricket, Nikolas will survive because he’s a strong son of a bitch,” he sneers. “But the fact that was even a possibility should tell you how fuckin’ stupid you were for doin’ what you did. You knew damn well we would come for you, and you gave no thought what-so-fucking-ever to what would happen to your family when we did.”

  Oh my God. Nikolas is not dead. But to me, as a friend, Elevent sure as hell is.

  My watery eyes narrow and I glare at Elevent to spite. I open my mouth to release my fury, but he beats
me to the punch with more of his.

  “Fuck you, too, Cricket,” Elevent seethes. “You don’t get to be pissed ’cause you know I’m right.”

  “I’ll tell you again, cara,” Liam interrupts Elevent’s tirade. “You’re going to be fine. The hit you took could’ve been worse, but still…” He glares at Elevent. “You shouldn’t be stressing, you should be resting.”

  “Can’t tell her what to do,” Elevent bites out, scowling intently as I sit quietly with wet hair, dressed in only my nightgown.

  Mia smiles half-heartedly, knowing full well she’s been in my position, on the outs with the men of this club before. So many times.

  “Can’t fuckin’ tell Cricket anything anymore and have her listen to a goddamn word,” Elevent rumbles on.

  Admitting to my mistake again, I tell him, “I’m sorry. I know I messed up.”

  Eyes incredulous, he teems, “You messed up?” Bending, he forces his face closer to mine. “Messed up is forgettin’ you had a dentist appointment ’cause you lost track of the day. Or bein’ ten minutes pickin’ Ziah up from school ’cause you were gabbin’ with your girls. What messed up is not, is walking yourself into certain death and—”

  “Elevent,” Mia prompts, and his angry gaze drops to his chest where she’d placed her hand to stop him. “She gets you’re angry.” Looking around to those in witness, she adds, “She gets you’re all angry.”

  “No, she doesn’t.” Leglas enters the conversation, having said nothing until now. He directs his agitated gaze to mine. “Love you, Blue Eyes, you know I do, but if that wasn’t the stupidest fuckin’ decision you or anyone in this club has ever made, I don’t know what is.”

  “Leglas,” I whisper, hating the hesitation of his stance, the burden of disappointment he wears so heavily.

  He grinds his jaw. His voice lowers, his words coming from his gut when he questions, “What kind of world would I live in had it gone the other way? And instead of thankin’ God you’re good, I was mourning my loss of you?”

  At this, I lower my head in absolute shame.

  “Look at us, Cricket,” Sty orders.

  Reluctantly, I pull my consideration from my lap. All of those who care surround me, standing guard and giving thanks that I’m okay.