And for the first time since meeting Shooter, I felt genuine fear of him.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“He your fella?” Timbo asked cautiously, watching as the long-haired, bearded biker with eyes full of rage and body full of twitching muscles pushed everyone out of the way and stormed toward the truck. And me.
“Sort of, I guess. Shit.” I watched him get closer and wondering what I could do to calm him down. Because the man looked like he wanted to put a bullet in every person around us.
Axe moved swiftly around to the front of the truck toward him and started to say something, but before he’d even finished his sentence Shooter had turned and thrown a punch so hard it knocked Axe off his feet. It literally lifted Axe off of the ground before slamming him back down to earth, where he landed on his back with a heavy umph. Axe was scrambling back up to his feet quickly, though he looked dazed and blood trickled out of his nose. Gauge came forward and stepped between the two men as an argument broke out, yelling something to both of them.
“Seems like a real nice guy,” Timbo said sarcastically. “He should probably get that under control before Aiken sees or he’ll be turning this convoy around and heading back to NEO without even slowing down.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I replied, dreading speaking to Shooter more and more with every passing second. The man looked pissed. More than pissed. I didn’t think there was even a word to describe what he was right then. I bet if I tried to look up the word in the dictionary to describe how spitting mad Shooter was, I wouldn’t be able to find one. I bet there would just be a picture of his face glaring out from those dusty yellow pages, staring hatefully into my soul.
“I’m serious, Nina,” Timbo continued. “Aiken won’t put himself or his people at risk if he thinks that guy’s a loose cannon. He only came here because of your little dramatic speech, so you best get out there and fix whatever this is.” He waved a hand at the angry tornado of rage in front of the truck.
“Aren’t we all loose cannons? I mean really, aren’t we all just one rusty screw away from falling apart?” I said desperately, trying to delay the inevitable. Because I did not want to talk to Shooter right then. Or even in the near future. And the more I thought about it, the less I wanted to do it.
“Not Aiken,” Timbo replied simply. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him lose his temper. That man is as cool as a um, as a—”
“Cucumber,” I interjected.
“Exactly. Aiken is as cool as a cucumber. But that man,” he said, pointing at Shooter, “that man is the exact opposite. Like a chili or something.”
I scowled at Timbo. “A chili isn’t even the opposite of a cucumber, but whatever, Mr. Dramatic.” I groaned and dragged a hand down my face. I reluctantly opened my door and jumped down from the truck before walking around to the front of it, feeling sick to my stomach because I could hear the shouting more clearly then, and if there was any previous doubt that it was about me, there wasn’t anymore.
“You should have brought her straight back here, motherfucker!” Shooter raged. “I should kill you right now!”
“There wasn’t time!” Axe bellowed back.
“If it were your woman, you would have made the time. You risked her life—the future of the Highwaymen—and for that alone I should end you!”
“Shooter.” Gauge shoved him back as he tried to get at Axe again. “Calm down, Prez!”
“Calm down! My woman could have been killed out there!”
“But she didn’t die, did she? She’s back and she’s fine.” Gauge turned to glare in my direction. “Like a cat with nine fucking lives, this one, so chill.”
“Gee, thanks for being so happy to see me again, Gauge,” I gritted out.
The group of men fell silent and Shooter turned to look at me, his mouth a thin line of disapproval, his eyes wild. He was a handsome man, but in that moment he was a monster, a beast risen from the depths of hell to torture and maim anyone and anything that tried to take what was his. He wasn’t himself. Or maybe he was. Maybe it had all been an act—the softer side of him—and really that angry beast of a man was who he really was, his mask finally slipping. Either way, seeing him like that was like a cold bucket of water being tipped over me and I gasped and took a deep breath. I hated that I had done that to him—made him into that twisted image of himself. He’d have hated me too if he could have seen himself then, and I’d deserve every drop of hate he had for me.
“Nina, not now,” Gauge started, his death glare aimed at the center of my forehead like a bullet to the brain. Or maybe he was warning me to back away before I got hurt. Either way I ignored him and the warning and pushed onward with what I had to say. Because I’d started to pull the Band-Aid off and then it was time to strip it off completely, even if the wound underneath was ugly and pus-filled. “Just go inside.”
I shook my head again and raised my chin, trying to assemble some words together that might calm Shooter down. My mind was coming up blank, but with Aiken arriving any second I needed to take control of the situation, and quickly.
“Shooter,” I said, hesitantly.
Shooter dragged a hand through his hair. “Don’t,” he warned, his tone harsh. “I’m not in the mood for listening to your shit, woman.”
Sheesh, everyone was warning me, and yet my stupid ass ignored them all. “We need to talk, Shooter.”
“So get your ass inside and let’s talk then,” Shooter snarled with barely contained rage.
“I’m not going anywhere with you until you calm the hell down.”
“Why? You afraid?” he taunted, stalking toward me, his eyebrows pulling in and his eyes turning a stormy blue. “Because you should be.”
In that moment I hated him. I hated him with every part of me. I hated him for trying to scare me, for acting like such an asshole, but mostly I hated him for not seeing the monster he was becoming.
“You’re just as bad as they are,” I bit out, jerking my head toward Scar and the other Rejects.
Shooter and I stared at each other in silence, a stalemate reached as neither of us wanted to back down—me trying to free myself of his suffocating grip and him clinging onto the dream of who he wanted me to be. Before leaving to go to NEO I honestly hadn’t been sure what I wanted. But the more of that man that I saw, the more I realized what a huge mistake we were. We did not bring out the best in each other. Not at all. In fact, I’d go as far as to say it was the exact opposite. We made each other weak.
I opened my mouth to tell him when Aiken’s droll cut through the silence.
“Seems real tense over here.” Aiken chuckled, and I tore my gaze away from Shooter to look at him. “This is a nice welcoming entourage for little ol’ me,” he chuckled, looking at the huge group of scary-looking bikers standing with Butcher and Shooter.
I took a breath. “Aiken, this is Shooter—the leader of the Highwaymen, and this is Butcher—the leader of the Devil’s Rejects. Shooter, Butcher, this is Aiken—the leader of the New Earth Order. He’s here to help us kill the Savages, rescue our people, and get home alive.”
“Pleasure to meet you fine men,” Aiken said politely. “And thank you for that wonderful introduction, Nina. Have I ever told you what a way with words you have?” He grinned at me. His people had climbed down from their trucks and were coming up behind him, ready to kill anyone or anything that tried to harm their leader.
Butcher stepped forward, reaching out with his one arm to shake Aiken’s. “Thanks for coming to help,” he grunted, not used to the formalities. “I’m takin’ it you’ve been well informed of what we’re up against?”
Man, he was a mess. His eyes were ringed with darkness, his skin sweaty and gray. And despite the act that he was clearly putting on, he couldn’t hide the shaking that ran through his body as he fought off death. If I were to guess, I would say he only had days left before he turned into another enemy.
Aiken looked at the dirty bandages wrapped around Butcher’s stump and smiled before letting g
o of his hand, and I wondered if he was going to say something about it. “Your lady friend here gave us a very clear picture—quite the eloquent one, ain’t she?” He chuckled again and I felt my cheeks flame hot as several sets of eyes turned to look at me.
“That’s one way to put it,” Gauge grumbled.
Aiken smirked. “Well, she got me here and I’m not an easy man to convince, so I think she deserves at least a little of your respect for that, don’t ya think?”
I looked to the ground, feeling uncomfortable under the praise. “It’s fine—let’s just get on with this, okay?” I mumbled, looking back up at Aiken and willing him to drop the subject.
“Well, we’re here to help put an end to this madness. This other group, the—” He looked to me.
“The Savages,” I helped.
He pointed at me and nodded. “That’s right, the Savages, well, they have two of our people and they’ve already killed another of ours, so we have our own incentives too. But I think the rest of this is probably best discussed inside your gates, since we’re starting to attract a little unwanted attention out here.”
He pointed to three shambling deaders coming from between an old hardware store and a pharmacy. They were older deaders, decrepit and semi-naked, what little clothes they did have hanging from their bone-thin bodies like dirty sheets hanging out to dry.
Butcher nodded at two of his men. “Rev, Anvil, deal with those.”
The two men jogged away from us and set about disposing of the three deaders.
“Let’s get inside then. We have a plan, and with you here I think we have the numbers now. Some of our brothers also got in this morning, and brought a lot of weapons with them too. I think it’s about time we ended this, if you’re ready. We’re intending to move quickly on this,” Gauge said. He glanced over at Shooter, whose rage toward me and the world had finally begun to dampen. “That good with you, Shooter?”
Shooter looked at Aiken, his normally handsome features hard and ugly. “Tell me, is Mikey one of your men?” he asked bluntly, surprising me enough to take a step forward.
I glanced over at O’Donnell, noticing her watching Shooter intently too, and I couldn’t help but worry about what the hell Shooter was getting at. It wasn’t like he didn’t already know that information, and squaring up to Aiken was a sure way to make him and his people get back into their vehicles and leave.
“Sure is. Real nice guy, too,” Aiken replied, as if we were discussing Christmas card lists. “Not been with us that long, but he’s a NEO through and through and he’s protected by us like I’m his guardian fucking angel.” He smiled and shifted the matchstick to the other side of his mouth, completely unfazed by the tension rolling around us all. “That solve any issues you might have had? Or do I need to be clearer on the subject?”
Shooter smiled back, but it wasn’t the handsome smile I used to love. That one was dark and deadly and made my stomach flip for all the wrong reasons.
“We roll out in an hour. Get your shit together. Butcher will fill you in on the information we’ve put together on the Savages.” He looked over at me, his cold blue eyes pinning me. “Nina, we need to talk, now.”
All eyes were on me, and I was hoping a hole would open up beneath me and suck me under. It would have been less embarrassing than that.
“Prez, think you need to be in on the meeting,” Gauge interrupted.
Shooter tore his gaze from me to glare at Gauge. “Well, brother, if you don’t think you can run a fuckin’ meetin’ without me there to hold your hand, let’s get to talkin’.” Shooter glanced back at me. “We’ve got things to discuss when this is through—don’t you forget it.”
“I’m sure she won’t,” Aiken butted in, like he was my great uncle Aiken come to restore my faith in men.
Shooter scowled and turned before heading inside, and one by one we all followed. Gauge and Butcher waited for Rev and Anvil to finish the three deaders off and then they locked the gates behind them, leaving two prospects guarding the front gate. I trailed behind everyone, not wanting to go inside but knowing that I had to all the same.
Gauge waited by the clubhouse door, and as I went to go inside he gripped my arm. I glared up at him in annoyance, but he looked inside to make sure no one was around to listen and then back down to me.
“Don’t gimme that look. I told you how it would be, Nina. Not sure what the fuck you thought you were doing going off like that, but he’s gone off the deep end now and I don’t know how to drag him back into reality. You sort this shit out before we go to war or we’re all gonna end up dead,” he growled out. “And I ain’t dyin’ for you,” he added on before releasing my arm and storming inside.
I rubbed my arm where he’d just grabbed me and stared at the empty space he’d left behind and wondered, not for the last time, how the hell I’d gotten myself into that situation. Had I let my heart rule my head, or the other way around?
I guess it didn’t really matter. Only the endgame mattered. And the endgame was killing those cannibalistic psychos and saving Mikey. After that, who knew what would happen? My life was a constant rollercoaster, and I had a feeling that I was just reaching the big climb before the final drop. What would be at the bottom was anyone’s guess.
Chapter Twenty-Six
I pushed open the clubhouse doors and stepped inside, the darkness enveloping me before my eyes quickly readjusted. The clubhouse was busier than it had been the last time I had been there.
I let the door close behind me but I stayed where I was, not really certain of where my place was within those people anymore. I didn’t belong with the Rejects, and yet I felt like an outsider now with the Highwaymen. I was kind of like an outsider, but on the inside, and no one liked me but everyone was pretending to—well, some people were, I thought as I caught another glower from Gauge inside the church. Man, it sucked to be me right then.
The church doors opened and Gauge looked out. “Meeting, now.”
Aiken and his NEO army were already in there, as were some other men I didn’t recognize, and I began to head over there along with the other men. Gauge let everyone pass, but when he saw me, he put an arm across to stop me from entering.
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t be an asshole about this. I’m going in there.”
“Think it’s better that you stay out here for now,” he grunted, giving no room for movement. “You’re just a distraction, and I need our prez focused.”
“Seriously?” I said, but he only stared at me coldly. “Gauge, I just risked my life to bring these people here to help us. Don’t be so petty!”
Gauge glanced over his shoulder and then took a step toward me. “Like I said, you need to sort out the mess you created.”
“I can’t do that unless I’m in there.”
“No, you can’t go in there because you’ll make the situation worse. Go take a shower, freshen up, and when Shooter finishes up in here you see if you can sweeten him up long enough to fuckin’ calm down.” He looked me up and down.
“I’m going to act like you didn’t just say that to me,” I said, my stomach burning with annoyance.
Gauge smiled at me. “You pretend all you like, darlin’. Don’t change that I said it and I meant every word of it.” He turned away, closing the door behind him.
I stood there with my jaw hanging open and irritation burning through my veins. I even considered opening the door and storming in there anyway. I mean, really, what could he do? Throw me out? There was no way that Aiken would stand for that. But as I reached out, my hand hovering above the door handle, I changed my mind. Because maybe Gauge was right. Maybe it would be a bad idea to have me in there. I mean, I wasn’t about to go take a shower and freshen up so I was all preened to sweeten Shooter up, but he was right in that I would probably make Shooter’s mood and the situation worse.
I dropped my hand to my side and turned away, looking back at the clubhouse in front of me. Not everyone was allowed into the meetings anyway, I sulked. There wer
e a lot of men still out there, and of course all the women that the Rejects had brought with them. The mood was relatively light and easygoing, despite the fact that we were about to go to war and a lot of us were likely to die.
I looked around for O’Donnell, wondering where she’d gotten to, but couldn’t see her anywhere either. Ughh, it was times like those that I missed my iPhone so I could while away the time playing Angry Birds while I waited for the meeting to finish.
I sat down in one of the small red leather seating booths that had clearly been rescued at some point from a bar, and I watched the door of the clubhouse. I could hear the raised voices of the men inside the church, and I hated that I wasn’t in there with them.
“You doin’ okay over here?”
I turned quickly to my right as a man sat down. I frowned at the rugged biker who was smiling at me. Clearly he hadn’t been given the memo that I was supposedly Shooter’s old lady, because the way he was leering at me suggested he wasn’t overly concerned with if I was actually okay or not. Though I guess the miscommunication was my fault since I had left my ‘property of’ cut on Shooters bed when I left.
“Name’s Crank,” he said with a jerk of his chin. He rested his hands on the table in front of him and I glanced at them, seeing the many tattoos that covered them. He was wearing long sleeves so I couldn’t see for myself, but I got the feeling that those hand tattoos were only the start of the ink on his body. “You like?” he said with a wink. “I can show you the rest if you like. I got them everywhere, in some real interesting places.”
“Brother, I’d leave that one alone if I were you. She’s nothin’ but trouble and she belongs to the prez,” another biker chimed in before I could reply.
Crank looked back at me, sucking his bottom lip in and letting it go with a smirk. “Damn shame,” he said, and stood up before walking away.
I didn’t know what offended me more—the gross chat-up or the fact that I’d been labeled as trouble. Pretty sure I used to be a good girl, all innocent and sweet. Of course, that was pre-apocalypse when I had a nine-to-five office job and a penchant for expensive shoes. Hell, I still had the shoe desire but we all knew heels wouldn’t help you when you were running from the dead.
The Dead Saga (Book 6): Odium VI Page 21
