Give Me War

by Kate McCarthy

  He trails off slowly, going still.

  “Renny?”

  I grab for his pulse again. It’s still there. I look around the room. I need something to press against his wounds. His shoulder is a bloodied mess, and lower, it looks like a gut shot. He needs an ambulance before it’s too late. But I find nothing. Only the shirt he’s wearing. I tug at the end of it with both hands, trying to drag it up his torso, but I have to do one side at a time, and it’s slow.

  I’ve reached his armpits when I hear the key turn and the door swings open.

  I look up. It’s Atomic, and his grin is wide. “Time for a show.”

  “No.” I look back at Renny, struggling again with his shirt, my movements in such a panic that my fingers slip in the blood and smack him in the chin. “Shit.”

  Atomic curls his hand around my upper arm and gives a hard tug.

  “No!” I cry out. “I need to …” He yanks me to my feet, but I’m boneless and can’t hold myself upright. “I need to help Renny.”

  I’m marched through to the front of the house, where the front door sits wide open. It leads to a little porch, and as we step out, I’d call it almost quaint if this whole scenario wasn’t so sinister. To our left is a set of three wide stairs, and he jerks me in that direction.

  My eyes are on my feet, not wanting to stumble, and when we reach the top of the stairs, he pauses as if for dramatic effect. I look up then, and suck in a breath.

  Jared is right there, in the front yard. So is Mitch, and Travis, and Mac? What in the hell? I have no idea how she managed to get herself involved but her brothers look pissed, only not at her.

  The four of them stand together, side by side, facing down every single Viper on the property. They appear confident and assured, as if they could take all of them on without cracking a sweat.

  They’re wearing varying shades of worn blue jeans and rumpled shirts, and I can see the exhaustion behind their eyes, as if they’ve been up all night, and it wouldn’t surprise me if they had, yet it doesn’t detract from the power that emanates from each of them, like a golden aura. Even Mac appears a crumpled mess, but seeing them all together, it’s special. Something that never gets old.

  Atomic holds me still with his hand tight on my bicep, his grip bruising as he waits, watching as Grudge speaks to them. And when a warm morning breeze picks up, flicking hair across my face that I can’t brush away, Atomic reaches up and brushes it away. I flinch from the touch. “Get your hands off me,” I growl hoarsely.

  All heads turn my way, but I only have eyes for Jared. I know the instant he sees me. His gaze runs over me and fury takes over his expression, so bright and hot it’s a wonder he doesn’t combust. He stands between Travis and Mitch and I know it’s strategic because when he springs forward they both grab him at the same time, holding him back.

  “Evie!” he yells.

  “I’m okay!” I call back. But I’m totally not, and the croak in my voice makes it obvious, not to mention my appearance. I can feel the blood on my face and neck. It’s all over my clothes, Renny’s too, which probably makes it look worse. My hair is matted and my left eye feels puffy and hot but not even that can detract from the explosive vest strapped to my body and the biker beside me holding the remote, my life entirely in his hands.

  Jared rips free of his brothers and lunges at Grudge, his right arm already swinging. It’s a hit that’s reckless and powered with rage, and it goes wild as the biker ducks. “You sonofabitch!” he roars.

  Travis and Mitch react quickly, grabbing him and locking him down. His chin dips for a moment, his chest rising and falling with every breath, his expression pained.

  Anger builds. Anger at myself. I did this. As soon as those bikers pulled in I should have hauled ass out of that beach parking lot like my butt was on fire. Instead I allowed myself to get thrown by my need to rip Renny’s face off over a past that should have been dead and buried.

  “I’m sorry,” I try telling him from across the yard, but my voice is too thin. What little sound comes out catches on the wind and drifts away.

  I turn my head to the biker at my side. If they want a war, I’ll give them a fucking war. “You think they’re outnumbered,” I tell him, referring to the Valentines, “and that you have the upper hand. But you’re forgetting something really important.”

  His tone is snide. “Oh yeah, what?”

  “The Valentines are smarter than all of you combined.” I know they wouldn’t have rocked up here without a plan. I have to believe that. But I’m the only leverage the Vipers have. Take me out of the equation and they won’t even need a plan because the bikers will have nothing. “They’ll have you behind bars for this for the rest of your life, or better yet,” I lean in, eyes narrowing, “dead.”

  In one quick move, I turn sideways, thrusting my knee upwards with force and perfect accuracy. Atomic jerks with an, “oof,” and his hand falls from my arm. Taking advantage of his lax stance, I grab for the remote with both cuffed hands. I leap down all three stairs like a goddamn gazelle and slam straight into Goliath.

  “Fucking shit,” I growl.

  I go for the knee move again but he’s prepared. He swings behind me and anchors his entire arm around my throat. It presses on my windpipe, restricting air.

  “The remote!” I hear someone yell through my struggle to breathe. It’s Mac.

  I toss the device in her direction. It flies up through the air and a hand reaches out and catches it. Grudge. He curls his fingers around it with a triumphant expression.

  God, why can’t I catch a freaking break?

  “Agree to the demands, Valentines,” he tells them, and as if on cue, the entire contingent of Vipers move into place, a collective threat of doom.

  “Why?” Mitch asks, arms folded and head cocked, appearing unbothered by the clear fact that we are so totally fucked right now. Mirrored aviators cover his eyes, hiding his expression, but his jaw is clenched tighter than the damn lid on a jar of Nutella. “If we step down, there’ll be others there ready to step in and take our place. All this little gathering proves,” he tells him, sweeping an arm out to take in the biker posse, “is just how weak the Vipers really are. You think you can take us out if we don’t lay down for you?”

  “Make the call,” I hear Jared mutter to Travis while Mitch is speaking.

  “Already did,” his brother returns.

  What call?

  Then I hear it.

  We all hear it.

  Everyone looks warily at everyone else, and heads turn in the direction of the noise.

  Goliath eases up on my throat and turns too, meaning I turn with him.

  The rumble. It’s low and heavy and reverberates across the earth as if God himself is growling with fury. The sound grows, and intensifies, and my bare feet throb as the vibration moves beneath them.

  I glance at Grudge. There’s a wobble in his brow line. “There won’t be others to take your place. We got friends in high places. They’ll make sure our business operates without interference once you’re outta the picture.”

  Jared interjects. “You might think that, but those so-called friends are being arrested as we speak. Besides …” a wealth of male satisfaction curves his lips upward, it’s a little sinister, and really freaking hot, “… those friends? We got them too.”

  Mitch’s voice increases in volume. “Stand down and hand Evie over, Grudge.”

  Not seeming to like the direction this conversation is taking, the biker president makes a move, relieving me of Goliath’s clutches and taking his place. “Stop acting like you hold all the cards.” He waves the remote. “All it takes is one button, and your precious female is gone.”

  One button?

  One freaking button? And he’s waving that device around as if it’s a child’s toy? My god I threw that thing up in the air like a bloody frisbee.

  I’m going to barf.

  I’m literally going to barf, right here, right now.

  But the growing noise
distracts us all, a veritable earthquake at our feet as it gets closer. The windows on the house begin to shake, the breeze kicks up, blowing hair across my face, and doors bang like thunderclaps.

  The first biker appears. He rolls around the far end of the street corner, cool as a sliced cucumber inside a chilled glass of vodka. No helmet, and blond hair gleaming in the morning sun like a Viking warrior. Goosebumps rise in a sudden chill across my skin. It’s Kelly, and even from this distance I can see his eyes are hard, his expression ready for war.

  Another biker comes behind him.

  Luke Fox.

  And another.

  Lee. The eldest Fox brother.

  And another.

  Bingo, who rolls up around the outside and takes the lead.

  More follow behind.

  And more.

  Until my mouth falls open, because a veritable wall of Sentinels is coming towards us. Not a hundred, not even five hundred, but an entire contingent. So many I can’t see beyond them. It’s not a little puddle of bikers pulled together by Grudge, but an endless ocean of them that roll in like waves on the shore. I didn’t even know the Sentinels had these kinds of numbers. Not locally.

  I turn to my husband. He’s eyes are on me, and he’s giving me a look, the kind that says don’t worry, babe. I got this.

  He would have had these bikers riding across state lines, through the night, to put this kind of army together, and I know then that there’s nothing in this world he wouldn’t do for me.

  A sob catches in my throat. I swallow it down and tilt my head, looking through my peripheral vision at the man who has hold of me. “You ever heard that saying, never bring a knife to a gun fight?” I can’t help but laugh, it’s a little hysterical because I’m stuck in the middle of a potential biker war while encased in an explosive vest that could kill me at any moment, but it bubbles out of me regardless. “You’ve just been out-played.”

  8

  JARED

  The Sentinels continue to roll in, filling the street, and my gaze returns to the Viper president. His bushy brows are high, and fear has his eyes darting back and forth between the Sentinels and his own men like a ping pong ball. It’s almost as if he fears getting caught in the middle. Coward.

  I want to take smug satisfaction at his shocked expression, but I can’t because he has ahold of my wife. One wrong move could mean the end of my entire world.

  His hands tighten around Evie. I see her wince and my blood boils.

  “This bastard is mine,” I tell my siblings, making sure they know the hit belongs to me. And there will be a hit. I’m not stupid enough to believe Grudge will surrender. He’ll run, and when he does, I’ll be ready.

  Mac huffs. “I should get a turn too.”

  “You shouldn’t even be here,” Mitch growls from my right.

  “I’ve already told you. If they want the Valentines, then that’s what they’re going to get,” she points out.

  “Mac, this is bullshit,” Travis adds from my other side. “If they get their hands on you, we’ll be dealing with two of you in those damn vests.”

  “That won’t happen.”

  My hands fist at my sides, pissed at their bickering. “Either walk away or shut the hell up. All of you.”

  The Sentinels start climbing off their bikes and Bingo and Kelly step up beside us. His eyes falling on Evie, Kelly mutters a shocked, “what the fuck,” while the big burley biker president shakes his head at Grudge, his gravelly voice booming above the Harleys still filling the street behind us. “Have you lost your motherfuckin’ mind?”

  Grudge narrows his eyes in return. “I thought we had an agreement.”

  Bingo mentioned at our meeting yesterday that the Sentinels and the Vipers had a handshake deal to never encroach on the other’s territory. Today’s efforts pretty much blow that out of the water.

  “I’m pretty sure kidnappin’ and assault of our allies negates that fuckin’ agreement, Grudge, so you let Jared’s old lady go, or we got problems, and those problems,” he turns and waves his arms, encompassing the entire contingent of Sentinels, “are fuckin’ big ones.”

  The last of the Sentinels turn off their bikes and climb off, and an eerie silence sweeps through the property. All we need now are tumbleweeds and it’s the wild goddamn west.

  “Allied with the Valentines?” Grudge sneers. “How the mighty have fallen.”

  “You might see it that way,” Bingo retorts, and takes the time to light a cigarette with casual disregard, as if he’s above the Viper’s antics. He exhales a huge plume of smoke. “But look at our numbers. Look at our club. We’re fuckin’ thrivin.’ And look at yours.” He shakes his head. “You might have some big bastards, but they still look about ready to piss ‘emselves.”

  Grudge tightens his hold on Evie and takes a step back. I don’t like the look of desperation on his face. It makes me nervous. “You’re talkin’ war, Bingo.”

  “Sure looks that way, don’t it?” He flicks ash into the dirt. “But you started this here shit fest. Now you gotta see it through.”

  Done with the posturing, I call out, “There’ll be no war. We’re done here. Hand over my wife or you won’t live to see another day.”

  Grudge’s brows fly sky high, as if I have the nerve. “You threatenin’ me?”

  I take a step forward, incredulous. “Like you’re threatening my wife right now?”

  “You’re just a big ‘ole coward hiding behind a woman like that!” a biker yells from within the horde of Sentinels.

  “Let her go!” another calls out.

  “Yeah, let her go!” comes a chorus of yells.

  A massive Viper steps forward, rivalling Kelly in size. His name, according to his biker cut, is Rider. “Why don’t you all just fuck off.” He sneers at the swarm of men at our backs. “This ain’t your fight.”

  “You made it our fight, ya snake bastards!” a Sentinel shouts back.

  A punch gets thrown and that massive Viper goes down, felled like a damn tree. And that’s all it takes. Sentinels push forward and the Vipers respond in a frenzy of violence. It’s a fucking melee of blows, booted kicks, and knives, and it all happens around me because I’m already pushing my way towards Evie.

  Her eyes hold tight to mine, trusting me to get her out of this. My god, I am not going to let her down.

  Grudge is jostled as he backs his way through the fighting swarm. A gunshot goes off from somewhere, and it only serves to further incite the violence.

  “You need to call Rossiter!” I shout over my shoulder at Mitch. He’s dodging a blow from a Viper but his quick glance in my direction tells me he hears me. “I’m going after Evie!”

  Grudge is heading for the house, my wife still covering his front. I’m gaining on them when the hit comes out of nowhere. A fist slams into my jaw, a powerful punch that sets me staggering to my left.

  “Jared!” Evie screams.

  I blink back stars as another blow gets me in the side. Swallowing down bile, I look up. It’s Rider, back on his feet again. Pride and fury urges me to wail on the bastard, but I’m too smart for that. His attack is a delay tactic. The biker is trying to give Grudge time to get away.

  I straighten and boot Rider in the gut, hard enough to send him stumbling back into the middle of another fight. I jab a finger. “I’m coming back for you.”

  When I turn back around, fear grips my stomach. Grudge and Evie have disappeared. “Dammit!”

  They were heading for the house so I run towards it, ducking and dodging flying fists and limbs. Adrenaline pumps through my veins, giving me speed as I vault the three stairs and wrench open the door. It’s abnormally quiet inside as I take in the front room. There’s blood everywhere. Streaks of the dark metallic substance weave along the timber floor. It decorates the living room wall in a thick spray, indicating gun shots hitting their mark. My senses go on high alert.

  Reaching behind me, I lift my t-shirt and pull the glock free from the back of my jeans. I engage the
slid and move slow and quiet, both hands on the weapon. My back brushes along the wall as I shift down the hallway. Tilting my head, I peek into a bathroom, clearing it, before moving on.

  “Jesus Christ,” I mutter, checking the next one. A big Viper is pushed up against the wall, his head at an unnatural angle. There’s a bullet wound in his leg and his forehead, his eyes sightless. It doesn’t get any more dead than that, so I don’t bother with more than a glance before moving on to the next room, only to find another body.

  “Fuck.” I recognise Rossi from the art gallery security tape. He’s flat on his back, his body beaten and bloody. I race over, dropping to a crouch so I can I check his pulse. It’s thready. He needs an ambulance.

  “Jared!”

  It’s Mitch. I hear his booted feet moving quickly through the house. I step out, gun lax at my side. “She’s gone.”

  “Gone where?”

  My jaw clenches. “That’s the million-dollar question isn’t it?”

  He jerks his head at the back door. “Go check the exit, I’ll—”

  “You’ll call an ambulance.” I nod toward the open doorway where I found the cop. “Rossi’s down. It doesn’t look good.”

  “Christ.” He tugs his phone free from his back pocket, stepping inside the room while I head for the back door. Yanking it open, I scan the yard. It’s fully fenced off. Nothing but a line of Harley’s along the boundary. Where did they go? “Evie!” I shout. “Evie!”

  A gust of wind bangs the door closed behind me as I leap down the stairs. I check the other side of the house. It’s empty. There’s nothing but a timber gate. I return to the back door at a run. It’s wide open when I know it blew shut just moments ago. I move quickly up inside the house, my steps soundless and gun raised in front of me.

  It’s Rider, the biker that just won’t stay down. His back is to me, and he’s walking along the hallway, windows to his left, rooms to his right, as he sneaks up on Mitch. He grips a small hatchet in his fist, his arm raised high, ready to bring it down on my brother.