At seven o’clock sharp, I went outside to the entire club standing before me. I summoned Parker and Landon to my side.
“I don’t need to give any more grand speeches at this point,” I said. “You know what we need to do. We need to kill Vulture, the entire Anarchists MC, and any living memory of them. Spare no lives, take no prisoners, and eradicate them. Does everyone understand me?”
“Yes, sir!” they all shouted in unison.
“Parker knows the location, and we are going to follow his lead,” I said. “We are going to arm everyone with a rifle and a pistol and body armor if we have it. Unfortunately, we don’t have enough for everyone, but we will make sure we do everything we can to mitigate any damage. What we are doing tonight will ensure the long-term survival of the club, the prosperity of the club, and the safety of the club.”
I cleared my throat.
“I told you this afternoon to go and see your loved ones and spend time with them. I hope you got that time. Because now, you need to remove them from your mind. Focus on the person to your left, and the person to your right. Your brothers are the ones you are fighting for. Give everything you have to them, and they will give everything to you. Leave no man behind, and spare no Anarchist. Am I understood?”
“Yes, sir!”
“Then,” I said, finally allowing a grin to form on my face. “Let’s go kill some fucking Anarchists!”
The jubilation that followed my triumphant statement slowly turned into cold, stoic determination. No one said a word as weapons and armor were passed out. All eyes fell onto no one except Parker and me. When the engines started, there were no more euphoric cheers or shouts.
It was just pure determination.
We rode as a perfectly in-sync unit over to the building that Parker had laid out. When he signaled to turn right, we turned right like one organism; the same was true for when we turned left. We all maintained the same speed and the same unity.
And then, as soon as the lights on the building came into view, gunfire broke out.
It was time for war to begin.
Parker and I got off our bikes, forming a sort of barricade against the onslaught of Anarchist bullets. The rest of our men did the same, lining up our AK-47s toward the gunfire. All out chaos ensued as bullets threw through the air, aimed only at the outline of bodies, the best guesses of where the enemy would be, and on hope.
“They must’ve known we were coming,” Landon said as he crawled up near me.
“Yeah, well, they always knew we would come at some point,” I said. “No turning back now.”
The battle of rifles and bullets continued for what probably was only a few minutes but felt like an eternity. We made enough of a dent in their defenses and I had enough confidence in the support of my men that, when I felt the time was right, I ordered Parker and a few other members to give Landon and me cover fire.
“Move!” I shouted when they were ready.
They laid out as much fire as they could as we sprinted toward the building’s entrance. No one shot at us, and sure enough, as soon as Parker and the other members ended their cover fire, the outside defenses of the Anarchists emerged for retaliation. It was as easy as shooting a man in the head at point-blank range.
But then, just as soon as we cleared out, someone began hurling grenades from the roof toward the rest of the Savage Kings.
“Move! Move!”
Whoever was throwing the grenades from the roof could not be hit from our vantage point, and the other members of the club were scattering to find cover. Motorcycles were torn to shreds, and more than one man gave a dying scream before he perished in the field.
“Shit,” I growled. “We can’t go in. We gotta clear the roof out.”
“Can’t believe they have fucking grenades,” Landon said.
“Probably traded some of our AKs to someone for them,” I growled.
The problem was compounded by the fact that whoever had the grenades was timing them extraordinarily well; the grenades exploded almost the moment they made contact with the ground, suggesting that whoever had them was holding them and timing them just right. Throwing them back up top was an impossible task.
“Let’s move in and fight our way to the roof,” Landon suggested. “We’re not doing any good here.”
“Fucking hell,” I said. “Alright, we—”
And then, just before I finished my sentence, a grenade exploded from the very spot where they’d been throwing them.
“Well, that takes care of that,” Landon said.
“Nice job, Parker!” I yelled.
“It wasn’t him!”
That was a voice I did not need to hear.
I looked over to my right. I couldn’t see her, but I knew she’d stupidly come. I knew she had ignored me.
“Get the fuck out of here!” I yelled to Heather as the rest of the Savage Kings, finally having the clearance to move, came into me. “Or I will knock you out myself!”
She didn’t respond. Damn good thing, too. I wasn’t kidding about knocking her out if she tried to come closer.
But, sweet Jesus, she actually had done it. She actually had made a difference in the fight. Not that I’m ever going to let her know about that and give her reason to join us on future fights.
If we have a future fight. Which I’m going to make damn sure here that we don’t.
The rest of us moved into the building, clearing out room by room, killing one Anarchist after the other. The battle was turning into a rout as our training, weaponry, and tactics overtook the disorganized and chaotic Anarchists. They may have been good at inciting trouble, but they apparently sucked terribly at staying organized.
“Where the hell is Vulture?!?” I shouted. “I want him brought to me alive so I can kill him myself!”
Some of the men acknowledged my request. Most just kept their sweeps through the room, the sound of gunfire answering my call.
We moved up to the second floor. The battle continued. A few of my men had gotten shot, but anyone who had made it to the building had not suffered any fatal wounds. I couldn’t speak for whoever had fallen outside, but this wasn’t the time to take care of them.
Finally, we reached the third floor.
“Let’s fucking end this,” I growled as we approached the only door on the floor.
Parker started to kick down the door, but I bumped him aside and did it myself. The door swung off its moorings, and—
It was empty.
I hurried over to the windows on the far side to see some Anarchists piling into vans, including Vulture, who turned around and gave me the middle finger. I raised my rifle and fired indiscriminately at the departing vans, but it did little good. The cars all drove off, apparently without any damage.
“Fuck!” I said. “Waste of time.”
But when I turned around and looked at the rest of my men, many of them worn out, bloodied, and with hard faces, I knew I’d said exactly the wrong thing. And I wasn’t just thinking that because it sounded nice.
“Parker,” I said. “How many Anarchists do you think we killed tonight?”
“By my best guess?” he said. “They ain’t gonna be nothin’ but a bunch of hoodlums now. We probably wiped out over half their force. Maybe even a daggum three-quarters of ‘em.”
“You hear that?” I said, finding the right words quickly. “We wiped out at least half of the Anarchists. If that’s not a fucking successful run, I don’t know what is. Vulture… he’s just a man without much of an army at this point. We’ll get him in due time.”
A few men raised their fists, but most were just exhausted. And then there was the other part that needed to be addressed.
“How many men did we lose?”
“Three back by the bikes,” Parker said. “Got a few who need treatment, but should survive.”
Three brothers of ours.
“Let’s get everyone back to the clubhouse. We’ll alert the family members of those who fell. We’ll figure out how t
o message it. But for now… job well done, gentlemen. Let’s go home.”
Getting home was actually much harder than it seemed. We had ridden in on about two dozen bikes, and now about a third of them were too damaged to drive home. We’d have to dip into our funds to purchase new ones, and everyone would have to customize it accordingly.
But the losses that we had suffered, while not inconsequential, were minuscule compared to what the Anarchists had suffered. All things considered, it was a victory.
There was just one loose end I had to tie up tonight.
6
Heather
“I’ll be at your place in twenty.”
There was so much left unsaid from that message from Brock, but I knew that as soon as I saw him in person, he was going to give me so much hell.
I should have just shown up, shot the guy throwing grenades, and backed away. I could have been like a guardian angel in the night, moving away without any sign of my presence otherwise to Brock. He would have just assumed that one of his men had landed a lucky shot.
But I guess I got greedy. I really wanted him to know that I could make a difference. I really wanted to prove that I was not just a sweet teacher.
I wanted to prove that I was not a damsel in distress, but a damn good shot.
I suppose I had. I just had to see how Brock would react.
Getting away from the battle was actually pretty easy. The Anarchists were so focused on what had happened with the Savage Kings that they, too, had assumed their grenade guy had fallen from the Kings. No one shot at me, no one yelled at me, and no one followed me home. In some sense, except for one bullet and one line of dialogue, I was invisible.
But I was not irrelevant, and that was really all that I gave a shit about.
Still, when that knock came at the door twenty minutes later, and it came with a bit of a hard thud on each knock, I had a feeling that I’d have a lot of explaining to do. I opened the door to see Brock looking… looking like he wanted to be pissed, but really couldn’t be.
“I can’t believe you actually went out there and did that,” he said.
I swore I saw a flash of a smile, but he was trying like hell not to show it. He forced a scowl, but like a kid caught lying, he couldn’t maintain the facade for long. I knew he wasn’t actually angry.
“You could have gotten killed!” he continued as he entered and I shut the door. “If they had seen you, they would have shot at you. And if you got hit, you had no backup. What you did was… was fucking crazy! It was so goddamn fucking crazy!”
“Yes, and?” I said, egging him on a bit.
“And you could have died!” he said in disbelief. “Did you really want that? Are you, are you…”
“Smart and someone who saved your ass from that grenade guy?”
Finally, Brock’s demeanor broke. He smiled, laughed, and howled in mock frustration.
“Goddamnit, Heather!” he said. “You were supposed to listen to me when I said not to get into battle!”
“I know this will surprise you, but just because I’m sweet and nice doesn’t mean I’m a pushover,” I shot back. “I thought you guys could have used a hand. I knew that I didn’t need to push myself to the point of putting myself at risk. And now, I’d like to think I played a part in helping you.”
“Fucking hell,” Brock said, but he was still smiling. “I guess I should count myself so lucky as to have such a badass woman.”
“Have?” I said in mock disbelief. “So you have me now? So this is a thing?”
For a second, he thought of saying something. He thought words would be the thing that would properly answer that question.
Luckily, though Brock may not have had the schooling I did, he was no idiot. He shut his mouth, locked his eyes onto mine, and went in for the passionate, pent-up kiss.
Unlike last time, when he pushed me away in preparation for battle, there was no barrier to us making love right there on that couch.
And wouldn’t you know it, like two horny teenagers finally alone in their parent’s house, that’s exactly what began to happen.
Our shirts came off first, almost a simultaneous maneuver in which both of us reached for the other’s clothing. He barely had my shirt off before he was working at removing my bra, pawing at it like a hungry bear. He pulled me on top of him as he smothered my breasts with kisses and gentle bites. I put my hands on his head and pulled him in close as I arched my head back, moaning Brock’s name.
He stood me up and went back to kissing me, but it was merely a ruse for him to get my pants off. Just like that, in what had more or less been the span of about fifteen seconds, Brock had me naked.
“God, I fucking want you so bad,” he growled. “You’ve been such a bad girl.”
“So punish me, Brock,” I whispered.
He turned me around, shoved me on the couch, and grabbed my hips.
“You stay just like that,” he said. “Don’t fucking move.”
Now, I felt a little more inclined to listen to what he had to say. I curled my fingers onto the couch cushions and closed my eyes, wanting the sensation of his thick, hard cock entering me to be something of an overwhelming surp—
There it is, oh fuck yes!
“Ohhh, Brock!”
His hands gripped my hips with unbelievable strength, his callouses and forearm muscles developed from years of riding a bike. His hard cock filled me and slid in and out at a breakneck pace. He held me in place as the tension immediately rose in my hips, pushing me at the snap of a finger toward orgasm.
I had never come so quickly in my life. And while it wasn’t an instant orgasm—lucky were those who had such an ability—it was by far one of the fastest ones. The rush of battle, the thrill of escaping from the day before, and the erotic tension between Brock and I had made me so horny that it only took about a minute worth of Brock’s cock in me to push to the edge.
My legs felt like jelly, but Brock was in no mood to stop. If anything, he kept thrusting through the course of my orgasm, either oblivious to the clenching of my pussy or goaded on by it. I looked back at him and saw a face that was in a trance that would not be shaken, not even if someone tried to knock at the door or interrupt us otherwise.
“Here,” he said suddenly. “Come on, come on.”
He pulled out just enough to get me to flip on my back. He aggressively turned me perpendicular so that he could enter me from the couch, and he practically collapsed on top of me as he went back inside. The brief moment had recharged my sexual drive, and once more, he had me to climax within just a minute.
But this time, it was not just a solo endeavor. He, too, was grunting with a higher-pitched cry, his cock hardening and pulsing inside of me.
“Yes, Brock, yes,” I whispered as I bit his ear, breathing hot air. “Brock…”
The utterance of his name was enough to get him to fire his load into me, his body tightening all around me. I was under a blanket of Brock’s sweat and twitching cock—and I couldn’t get enough of it.
When he finally finished, he kissed me, placing both hands on my head.
“That was… amazing,” he said. “But please never go into battle again.”
I laughed before kissing him once more. Oh, Brock, you comedian, you.
“I’ll tell you what.”
“Hmm.”
“I’ll promise never to go into battle again,” I said. “If you clarify what you meant by you have me.”
Brock smiled, as if he had hoped for a chance to explain himself. I couldn’t wait either.
“Ten years ago, I made the choice to let you go. I suppose that we can argue about if it was the right thing to do because of your uncle, but it was nevertheless incredibly painful for both of us, especially since I couldn’t explain myself. In the immediate aftermath, I hoped that someday, we could get back together, but as time went on and I had heard that you had moved away, I gave up hope on ever being with you again.
“Then, when you came back, a part of m
e resisted the idea of being with you. Like, it had ended badly before, and your uncle was still alive. Why would things be different? But the thing about attraction is you can’t rationalize with it. You can’t ignore it. It’s there or it’s not. And with you, it was always there. So I went for it. But even then, I had my doubts. And I know you did too.”
He smiled and chuckled to himself. Only here did he pull himself out, move to the side, and cuddle me.
“But now that we’re here, now that we’ve survived everything… well, you said you liked bold. So I’m going to be bold and call you my girlfriend again now. I know I should probably ask permission or something silly like that, but, you know, I know you’ll agree with me.”
“Oh, do you?” I said in mock sarcasm. “Well, luckily for you, I’m also a bold woman.”
“Gee, it’s almost like you running into battle gave that away.”
I rolled my eyes before kissing him again in glee.
“But you’re in luck, Brock,” I said. “I will agree with you. I will be your girlfriend. But just promise me this.”
“Yeah?”
“Promise me that you’ll give me all of you,” I said. “Promise me that you won’t hide anything from me. I know some club business is club business, but between us, always be forthright.”
Brock squeezed me tight.
“You have nothing to worry about, baby,” he said. “I’m giving you all of me. I’m giving it to you forever. And I’m giving it to you with all the enthusiasm I can. Because I love you, Heather.”
This time, he wasn’t going to escape my response.
“And I love you, Brock.”
Epilogue
I hadn’t succeeded in killing Vulture.
But in just about every other regard, I had succeeded in what I’d hoped to accomplish.
The Anarchists were on the run, reduced to gathering the scraps of their MC and going into hiding. Heather and I were once again an item. It didn’t matter if her uncle knew about us or not.
Forbidden Romance: An MC Romance (Savage Kings MC Book 4) Page 3
