by Rie Warren
Venom scurried away during the chaos even though I shot after him, rogue bullets pinging off the metal sides of the traincar.
Kouto’s eyes peeled wide in shock. One of his assailant’s arms cranked his throat at an extreme angle. I watched, just as wide-eyed, as the sharp blood- and gore- slicked end of a knife drove right through Kouto’s chest wall.
When Kouto’s huge frame—dead on dead—thunked to the floor, Slade was left standing behind him.
“Tried to tell you you’ve been made,” he said.
“You too, Killian Slade.”
It was time for the silent killer to show his shock—popped open mouth, big surprised eyes.
“No time for that shit now.” I kneeled beside Blaize, her deadly situation immediately apparent to Slade, who hunkered beside me.
I should get a fucking tat of that, right across my chest: No Time For Shit.
Because Blaize was strapped to a bomb, and the fucking countdown was on.
“Jesus Christ. I knew Venom wanted to do a number on the two of you, but I had no idea.” Replacing his blade with his gun, Slade pushed up to his feet in one easy move.
He stalked away and leaned halfway out the rolled-open door. “Got it, hoss. I’ll keep watch. You figure out a way to get her out of that thing.”
Blaize was sweaty. Her shirt ripped to her waist. She shivered. But her tears had dried up. Her lips set in a firm line despite the shudders wracking her body. Tethered to a bomb for over two hours already, with only one minute thirty left.
Every single muscle on her body flexed in sharp angles.
I laced my fingers through hers, careful not to nudge against her. I kept my distance when all I wanted was to rip her free and drag her into my arms. Keep her there, with me, safe.
Forever.
Her fingers gripped mine.
I looked her over with wavering vision, unable to draw a full breath into my constricted chest.
“You know anything about this shit?” I glanced back at Slade, hoping I didn’t jar Blade, or trip the bomb, or make the one single mistake that could end her life.
“Fuck, man. Not a clue.” His white teeth showed from the long dark beard.
Pulling my hands from Blaize’s, I leaned my head forward against hers, brushing our skin together lightly. I balled my fists.
“Cher, you know which one to cut to defuse it?”
“Never did bomb training.” Her laugh came out low and dry. “Probably a mistake.”
“FUCK! This is Walker’s game, not mine.” I held Blaize’s face gently between my hands.
“Whatever happens, Storm, I love you.” She rubbed her lips against mine, and the taste was salty with more unshed tears.
Drawing away, I pulled out my cell, calling Walker, a-fucking-gain. “Don’t you dare say that like it’s the end, Blaize.”
Beep beep beep
“It is the end.” She stiffened in the chair.
I didn’t even dare cut her bonds, let alone one single fucking wire connected to the bomb.
1:00
“Fuck you, cher!” I dropped the phone on the floor. I huddled against her knees, wrapped my arms around her legs. “I love you.”
“Don’t die because of me.” Blaize’s voice strained in a raw whisper.
“I can’t leave you.”
“Yes, you can. You have too. You can still get Venom—”
“Goddammit! You think I give a crap about that right now?” Kissing her lips, touching her softly, I swore to hell and back. “Fuck. About to get us blown up and still lecturing me?”
Tears covered both our faces, and my grip on her grew slippery.
Time was not on our side.
:50
“Incoming!” Slade shouted.
“Hold your fire! HOLD YOUR FIRE!” came the echoing yell from the train yard.
“Holy shit!” Slade dropped back.
Turning, blinking goddamn tears from my eyes, I did a double take. “Walker?”
The Lakota man—the explosives expert—ran across the railroad car.
“Get out of the way.” He pushed me aside.
Straight down to business, he muttered, “Damn, Blaize. You don’t do things by halves, do you?”
“Walker?” Stunned, I sat back on my heels.
“Didn’t think we’d let you get all the glory, did you?”
“We?”
Walker cocked his head.
Repetitive gun blasts rent the air outside.
“Hear that?” He bent over the bomb again, a grim look on his face. “That’s Jane.”
“Jane?”
“Justice and Bane.”
I would’ve laughed if I wasn’t so fucking relieved. If I wasn’t so goddamn piss-scared.
Studying the device, Walker asked, “Emulex?”
“You asking me?”
“This is rock-blowing shit.” He drew a small kit from his pocket. “Where'd the Hez get access to this?”
“Coal-mining turned coke-running cunts from Kentucky.” Using the tail end of my shirt, I wiped across Blaize’s brow.
She looked up at me as if saying her final prayers.
:30
“The clock’s really running out, Walker.” I swiped my thumb across Blaize’s wet cheek.
“So the Legion’s a multicultural operation?” He angled a pair of tiny sharp wire-cutters at the red, then the blue, then the brown wires as if eenie meenie minie BLOW.
Again.
:20
“Walker. If you don't defuse the bomb right now I will plant a bullet in your brain and send a wreath for your coffin.”
“I love you,” Blaize mouthed, her time on this earth counting down in single digits.
“WALKER!” I bellowed.
“Brown. Cutting the brown wire.”
:07
“You sure?” I braced myself to be blown apart.
“Cutting the grounding wire. Earth!”
:05
I held my breath. Held Blaize’s beloved face in my hands. Willed us always to be together, one way or the other.
“Do it,” she ordered.
Slade stood beside us as Walker made the snip.
:02
The clock fucking stopped.
“Merde!” I ran my arms around Blaize. “Cut her out! Cut her out of this shit!”
Slade and Walker worked quickly together, pulling off the neutralized Emtex vest first then snapping her free at her wrists and ankles.
Rocking back on my ass, I pulled Blaize against me. Fully against me. Her arms were probably numb. Her legs, too, but I held her in a tight embrace as she gasped. As she worked full unconstrained breaths into her lungs. As she kissed my neck and said my name over and over.
Utter relief pounded through my veins. “Holy shit, Blaize. Holy shit.”
She whimpered quietly while I rubbed her arms, her legs, took her back into my embrace, and held her close.
I wiped my eyes before glancing back at Walker. “Jesus Christ, man. Did you wait long enough to get here?”
“Wanted to surprise you.” He grinned. “Good surprise, right?”
“Fuck, dude. You have no idea how happy I am to see you.”
“Hell, would’ve showed sooner if I’d known I’d get this kind of reception.” He quickly packed away his tiny bomb kit. “Only got the boss lady’s text midmorning. Then all your messages piled up when we were en route and incommunicado. Blow the phones up much?”
Standing up, I pulled Blaize with me. I kept an arm tucked around her then grabbed Walker into a tight hug.
I pushed him away just as quickly. “Now, fuck off. Not into threesomes with you.”
“Not into threesomes with anyone, I hope.” Blaize spoke with a dry and crackly voice.
“No, ma’am.” I dipped my head.
“Hoo-wee!” Walker hollered. “You finally sealed the deal with the boss la—”
“Shut it.” I smacked him on the side of the head. “Has anyone seen my brother?”
“Your brother?” He looked completely confused.
“Technically my half brother. Angel. ’Bout as tall as me. Blond.”
“Aren’t you just full of fucking secrets?”
“Not anymore apparently,” I grumbled.
Slade looked over from checking to make sure Kouto and Burn were dead dead. “Didn’t see Angel.”
“Shit. I told him to stay put, but he never listens to a goddamn word I say.”
“We need to get out there.” Blaize unwrapped herself from me. “And I need a weapon.”
Damn. Couldn’t keep a good woman down. She appeared to be almost fully in control again.
First I pulled my jacket over her ripped and torn shirt then I lifted her chin between my fingers. “You okay?”
While I studied the depths of her blue eyes, I heard Slade and Walker.
“Dude. Twice in six months is too often.”
“Heard that.” Slade answered Walker with a fist bump.
“I’ll be fine after we shut the rest of this shit down,” Blaize answered me. Without even peering at Walker she said, “And about that unsanctioned side trip to Jacksonville, you’re not out of the woods yet.”
“Goddammit. Don’t I get bonus points for saving your skin, Miss Carmichael?” He laid the brown-nosing on thick.
“The boss is back.” I handed Blaize one of my M2s. “C’mon, let’s go see if Jane left anyone alive out there.”
“Knew that shit would catch on.” Walker beamed.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Main Event
WE MADE IT TO the main action in time to see SUVs and trucks and motorcycles peeling off in clouds of dust. But no roaring thunder from the Blood Legion bandits.
Bane fired off crackling shots that lit up the night, but the vehicles fishtailed out of sight.
“Want me to go after them?” He peered up at Blaize from his crouch-and-aim stance.
“No. The Los Reyes and the others aren’t the main objective this time.”
“I got your main objective righ’chere.” Justice flashed his pearly whites. “Glad to see you made it, Blaize.”
Kiss-ass.
“What about me?” I scowled.
“Chopped liver.”
Big middle finger for him.
He’d corralled the main suspects from the Blood Legion—those who were left alive. I noted with interest the number of blood-oozing bullet wounds and the amount of fleshy bruises while Justice and Bane barely looked like they’d been in a dust-up.
The MC outlaws prided themselves on being stone cold killers.
They’d just met the real ones, up close and personal.
Slade and Justice bro-hugged, both of them keeping weapons trained on the loser crew tightly circled and on their knees in the bluff grass and dirt of the rail yard.
“Look at you, Gunny. Jeeeesus.” Slade scoured a hand over Justice’s short blond hair. “Maverick said you went shadow ops.”
“Hell, last time I saw you was in Hellmand Province, Sarge.”
“Got out when Mav did. Decided to do a little moonlighting for the CIA. Had some connections.” Slade bent his forehead to Justice’s. “No re-up to civvy life for men like us.”
“Semper fi, Marine.” Justice curled his fingers into Slade’s shoulder. “Heard about Texas.”
“Bad times.” Slade’s face twisted into grim shadows.
“The worst.” Justice inhaled on a raw sound. “Can’t believe he’s dead. Glad you made it out in one piece though, man.”
“And look at us glory hounds now, huh?” Slade released Jus, shaking his head. “Damn, Gunny.”
They continued to catch up, talking quietly. I watched them for a moment, wondering what Justice’s time in the Marines had been like. He never talked about it. No one asked. A man’s business was his own. But even though he was all shiny and bright on the outside, he’d clearly lived through hell and come out of it.
I glanced at Blaize. She was so fucking tight in the head she refused to admit she was fatigued down to her bones, probably in some serious shock, and possibly ready for a mini breakdown if she’d let herself.
Instead, she walked a loop around the circle of prisoners.
I strode along the line from the opposite direction.
Walker and Bane kept on silent, hawkeyed watch.
“Wait. WAIT!” I stopped short, scanning the immediate area.
Blaize jerked her chin in my direction. “What?”
“Where’s Venom?” My body tensed, worry once more coalescing inside me. “Where in the fuck is Angel?”
No answer. And neither man was in sight.
“Fuck.” I signaled to Justice and Bane to stay on watch, motioning Blaize, Slade, and Walker after me.
We went silently, inspecting the dark depths of the depot, branching off and whistling low to signal our positions.
Rounding corners, hopping over tracks, keeping my pistol raised, I investigated every motherfucking stock car I came upon.
Nothing.
A shrill whistle rolled across the night, a call to action.
I sprinted toward the sound, only skidding to a stop when I fell in behind Walker who carefully placed his S&W on the ground.
Because Venom was in execution posture. Angel bulked up behind him. Angel held his bowie knife at Venom’s throat, but he pointed his gun at Walker.
“Easy, brah,” I cautioned Angel.
“I take it that’s your little brother,” Walker dryly commented. “Gotta tell you, an angel he is not.”
Slade and Blaize swerved into sight. I waved them back.
Angel’s muscles quivered, his big frame quaking from head to toe to hands. And every time he shook, the sharp blade he held at Venom’s arched throat gouged deeper into flesh.
Not good. Not good at all.
Christ, Angel was losing it.
I staged slowly forward, Walker taking up my six.
“Remember that night? At the docks, Ange?” I asked. “You didn’t want to kill then. You don’t want to now.”
“Oh yeah? Says who?”
I holstered my gun. “Me. Because I told you being a man meant knowing when not to kill. Having mercy.”
“Mercy?” He laughed, a rusty raw sound. “Fucking mercy? How ’bout when he showed mercy on my dad. By murdering him!” He gripped Venom’s bald head, digging the knife deeper.
“What?”
“Killed him because he wanted control of Legion. Didn’t want the club to go to me.”
I’d always wondered. Now I knew the truth. The truth wasn’t fuckin’ pretty.
Walker and Slade all but breathed down my neck, and Blaize cautioned, “We need Venom alive.”
“Put the blade away, Angel. You don’t want murder on your rap sheet.”
“Tell him, Storm.” Venom gritted his teeth, crimson drops welling and dripping down his neck.
“You shut your fucking mouth before I let him gut you stomach to gullet.”
Angel looked at me, unshed tears brightening his eyes.
“Stand down, Angel.” I moved slowly forward. “You’re too good for this mayhem.”
A huge roar filled his throat. He tossed the knife away only to haul Venom around and mash his fist into his face.
I watched in awe as Angel waled on him. Punches. Kicks. Punishing blows.
Blaize stepped beside me. “I suppose a few more bruises won’t matter.”
Venom’s eyes rolled back when Angel crushed his knuckles against the pulpy mess of Venom’s face one more time.
“What about brutality?” Venom gasped out.
Marching forward, Blaize yanked his head up. “You want brutal?” Her hand lowered, squeezing his nutsack until his eyes bulged.
Then she kicked him flat back to the ground. “That was for the fucking explosives, couillon.”
She spat on him and turned away. Chin high. Eyes narrowed. Her stride strong.
“Cuff that fuck before I bleed him out myself,” she ordered.
Fuck. Th
at shit isn’t supposed to be hot, but it is.
With Venom tied up and hobbled with the rest of his one-percenter crew, Blaize sounded off a final time. “Convoy these assholes to ATF. They’re expecting you. Bane, Justice, Walker . . . you’re on delivery detail. Don’t get fucking fancy on the way to NAS JRB New Orleans.”
“Ma’am.”
“Yes’m.”
“Fuuuck.”
They sounded off.
Slade slipped beside us. “What about me?”
Blaize barely glanced at him. “What about you?”
“This was my op.”
“Was being the prime word.”
Christ. Now I remembered why Blaize had always had me by the short and curlies.
Slade was clearly a cutthroat killer—a Corps man—and Blaize took him down one more peg. “CIA, huh? What a waste. You want to work for the real people? Find a way to contact me. That’s your first test.”
“Holy shit.” Slade frowned. “You’re for real?”
“Holy shit,” I echoed. “Yeah. She is.” Then I knocked my shoulder against a shell-shocked Angel. “You’re with us.”
He nodded silently, a ghost of a look glazing his eyes and bruises all over his fists.
Blaize and I had taken two steps away from the men when she faltered. “Don’t let me look weak, Storm.”
I caught her in my arms. Her skin was clammy wherever I touched her. She was on the verge of collapse.
“I got you, cher.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Down the Bayou
“YOU SURE WE GOT time for this?” I held Blaize’s hand, glancing over at her.
“I’m the boss lady, remember?” She winked.
“How could I forget?”
“And I’d say we’re do for some R&R.”
“Well all righty then.” With a grin stretching my lips, I continued strolling beside her.
I tried not to stare at her too much. To stare was to want her. Immediately. But I was still concerned about her.
Even though she continuously claimed she was shipshape after nearly getting blown to bits four nights ago, she still woke in the grips of night terrors that included the brutal rape she’d survived, evidence of painful memories resurfacing.
Those hours were bound in darkness for her. All I could do was hold her, calm her, shore her up with my ever-near presence, and wonder how the hell she’d become so goddamn strong instead of disappearing altogether into the black void of cruelty that’d been dealt her.
