Sacred Grip (Savage Saviors MC Book 5)

by J. C. Allen

“Shit!” I gasped, feeling like my retinas were being melted out of my skull.

  “Yeah, I probably should’ve warned you about that,” Bones said as an apology. “Anyway, these aren’t average, either. They’ve got thermal detection built in, so they can pick up on any heat signatures. If someone’s hiding in here, or if anything warm-blooded has even touched something recently, we’ll know it. Understood, boss?”

  “Yeah,” I said, still admiring the technology that I had somehow failed to appreciate before.

  I blinked against the still-too-bright onslaught against my eyes. I blinked again, thankful that the device was big enough to hide my tearing eyes from the vision of the three Marines and tried not to look as flustered as I felt. Even as I did—even resenting the goggles as much as I did in that moment—I couldn’t help but admit to myself how handy these things would have been to me yesterday in the dim lighting of the subway, and again chastised myself at how stupid I’d been.

  I’m noticing a trend here.

  The greenish veil of blinding light shifted as my eyes adjusted, and vision came to me then. Admittedly, it wasn’t the sort of vision I’d be getting used to anytime soon, but it was undeniably better than being blind. Though everything still registered in some distant understanding of the word as “dark,” the goggles managed to remove the mystery associated with that word and leave only its rawest definition.

  Yes, we were in a pitch-black building, but that didn’t mean that I couldn’t make out the dusty, cobweb-caked office chair overturned in the corner or the desk that looked like somebody had taken a sledgehammer to since the building had been abandoned. Everything was bathed in an artificial, light-green iridescence that made me feel like I was living out a scene from The Matrix.

  Then Bones, AK, and Rucker stepped around me, and I caught myself in mid-gasp. True to Marcus’ explanation, the otherwise green setting was suddenly interrupted by three orange-and-red, human-shaped masses that now occupied my field of vision where my guards now stood. I had to remind myself that this wasn’t a technological convention, but a real fucking mission with real life or death consequences.

  “You guys see anything worth worrying about?” I asked, making sure to keep my voice low.

  “Negative,” Bones said, his burning doppelcluber glancing back at me as he spoke. “Where should we start, boss?”

  I frowned, realizing that it was my call, in the end, as leader of the Saviors, no matter how little military experience I had. I glanced around the room we were in, noting that there was luckily only one other way to go other than back through the door we entered in. I moved forward, making sure to keep an eye out, walking carefully through the next door. Looking around, I saw that the next room was completely empty and I frowned, coming to now two different directions to go to.

  “Should we split up?” AK asked.

  I waited for Bones, seemingly the leader of the three, to give some sort of answer. But when he didn’t, I turned to see him facing me. I did my best to think of what would make the most sense, but I also knew a growing sense of impatience was bound to make them become resentful at some point.

  “No,” I said, shaking my head and added, “It might take more time, but staying together is the safer option.”

  The three nodded and offered a trio of “affirmative”s then. I got it right. Thank God.

  Or maybe they’d say affirmative all the same.

  Either way, I think this is the right choice.

  Then I saw it.

  It was faint and nearly impossible to see with the bright green glow the night vision goggles gave, but it was there.

  Two partial footprints pointed in the direction of the right doorway.

  The boots that had left those prints weren’t the sort that a hobo would be wearing. With how abandoned this property looked, I couldn’t imagine it had any kind of occupants for years. There was no way those footprints belonged to the previous occupants, which could only mean one thing…

  “Look there,” I said, pointing to the footprints. “This is the place. Has to be.”

  “Those are definitely fresh,” Rucker said as he crouched down over them. “Dust hasn’t had much of a chance to settle.”

  “Be alert,” Bones said. “These footprints only point one way, which could only mean whoever left them is still here. We don’t have visual of the enemy, so proceed with extreme caution.”

  We all nodded.

  But I’m pretty sure of the four of us, only three of us had any sense that if shit went down, we’d be OK. And “they” was much more appropriate than “we” here.

  I sighed, turning towards the right doorway and began to lead the others. I made sure to look around and noticed that the footprints were getting clearer as we walked into a hallway, leading to a set of stairs. I didn’t bother to ask what this meant, mostly because I had a terrifying suspicion that it meant that the prints were even fresher than we had thought.

  So either we made it in here without alerting the Black Falcons, or we’re about to engage in a terrible, terrible trap where we’re all going to die.

  Too late now.

  We made our way up and stopped before entering a room filled with multiple built-in walls that would’ve been used to separate cubbies in an office.

  “Fuck,” AK said, looking around at the room.

  “If anyone’s in there, they got plenty of hiding places,” Rucker said.

  “Arm yourselves,” Bones said, pulling out my own handgun and pushing the safety off. “This could very well be an ambush.”

  We all quickly had our weapons at the ready, pointed forward and ready to fire at a moment’s notice. We were as prepared as we could be, but even that had limits relative to what we would hope to do.

  I led the group inside. It was quiet and I couldn’t see any sign of activity in the room. We began to explore, staying together as we walked through the room. I frowned, wondering if we had been wrong, if this wasn’t the right place.

  “Motherfuck…”

  I turned to see what AK was swearing out.

  I wish I hadn’t.

  Another two bodies.

  These two bad been butchered, their bodies desecrated somehow even worse than yesterday’s.

  I leaned on my knees, feeling like I was going to be sick. There was barely anything left of the body that was recognizable. I glanced over at the others, seeing that they, too, were disgusted from the sight—and these were Marines we were talking about.

  Whoever had done this had not been gentle. This was definitelyanother warning. As if the confirm my thoughts, I saw the same message written above the body in blood and shook my head.

  “They’re fucking playing with us,” I said, not bothering to hide the growl of frustration.

  “What now, boss?” Bones asked, seemingly the only person unaffected by the moment.

  That, or he was just much better at hiding the fear that he had. Either way, the badassness of this guy was off the charts.

  What more could we do, though? We had a clue and no contact with the Black Falcons, although we could probably change that. Perhaps we could interrogate someone.

  The more I thought about it, the more that made sense to me. And then, as a fuck you to Falcon, we could return the favor.

  No, don’t do that.

  But find those fuckers.

  “Let’s look around,” I said. “The Falcons have to be—”

  “INCOMING!”

  I wasn’t sure which of the ex-Marines had made the call, but I knew it was Bones who got a hold of my jacket and pulled me out of the line of fire.

  A series of silenced gunshots began firing a short distance away.

  “Fuck!” I yelled.

  I looked down and realized I’d… I’d actually been hit.

  “Stay down,” Bones yelled. “You weren’t hit in an artery but you will be if you get involved!”

  Say no more, Bones.

  To the right of where we’d been standing, three men had begun to take
fire. My eyes widened at the sight and I looked to the other three. More shots began to fire, not all of them silenced this time, and I watched as the three returned fire. I hadn’t had a chance to see them even retrieve the small automatics that had been tethered at their backs, but in an instant of near-synchronized perfection they were armed and ready.

  Fuck yes. Let’s go!

  The bursts of fire came in tight, practiced groupings—the clusters of Brr-brr-brrap! Brr-brr-brrap! exploding out in counts of three followed by a one-count before starting over again—and found their targets before I’d even managed to spot one. The Marines yelled at each other, telling each other to take cover, to fire, giving various o’clock positions, and other commands that only someone who had served could possibly know.

  I may not have served, and I may have been wounded… but I hated lying here all helpless. It was no wonder to me now, then, that Eve had shot Tyler and helped me at the Black Falcons party—there was nothing worse than having an ongoing fight and playing absolutely no role in the madness. I felt as useless as a rag doll—which wasn’t true, I felt worse. At least the Marines knew a rag doll would never be capable of firing, but I probably looked pathetic here.

  I couldn’t fucking take it.

  Despite not knowing where to even begin shooting, I hurried to draw my own nine-millimeter, sat up, and began surveying the area for anybody that the three hadn’t already shot down. On two occasions, I’d started to get a bead on one of the firing Falcons, only to have them stagger back and fall under a fresh burst from one of the three Marines.

  I was about to resign to not getting a single shot off when I spotted a dark mass, ducked low and sprinting on wobbly legs, as it worked its way to the other side of the room for a different vantage point. Noticing that the three’s fire was still focused ahead of us, I took the initiative and fired after the asshole—tailing him with three rounds before finally planting the fourth into his left temple.

  The thud of his body seemed to cue another Black Falcons member who’d been hiding behind a stack of discarded filing cabinets to make an appearance. I put a round between his eyes and, more feeling than seeing the three sets of eyes from my Saviors appraising me with sincere admiration, I smirked, glad that I had taken Roost up on target practice the other day. I also couldn’t begin to express how happy I was to feel actually useful in a battle and not have to rely on Marines or my girlfriend to save my ass.

  I watched with growing relief as the last few Falcons were dealt with by the Marines. I stayed crouched as I glanced around the room, wanting to make sure there were no others hiding. A few more Brr-brr-brrap!s later, and everything fell once more into silence.

  We had won.

  The only regret was we wouldn’t have anyone left to interrogate, but given this was where the Falcons were going to wind up, anyways, I didn’t feel upset at all. I was happy to have given a middle finger back to Falcon with more lost men for what he’d done to two of my men—whom I hadn’t even had the chance to identify.

  “We clear?” I asked.

  “All clear,” Bones said as he moved out of his hiding area.

  With the threat taken care of, I slid out as well and winced as I moved my gun back into the holster at my chest. I had completely forgotten I’d been shot—I guess adrenaline really did have a hell of a kick that I couldn’t have anticipated.

  But while it may not have been life-threatening, as I glanced down, I saw the growing moisture forming through my leather jacket.

  Well, shit!

  That couldn’t be good.

  I blinked a bit, wondering when the room had begun to spin.

  Had it ever notbeen spinning?

  “Boss?” a distant voice called out to me. “Hey, boss, you—”

  I wanted to say something somewhere in the vicinity of bold or brave. I wanted to be calm, cool, and collected. I wanted to express solidly a need for medical attention—discreet, prompt, and affective medical attention—and to do so in a way that would inspire confidence and pride from these three Marines

  I wanted to say all of those things.

  What I heard myself say, however, was, “Fuuccckkkk…”

  The last thing that I remember was seeing Bones hover over me, placing his hands on my hips, and then passing out.

  8

  Eve

  I thought for sure that having spent the day with Derek, having let him sleep in, and having had the conversation with him would have made things easier.

  How wrong I was.

  Maybe I was just being too harsh on myself. Maybe I had known tonight would be just as hard as the last night, even if I knew that he had backup like he didn’t have yesterday. Maybe I had known that I’d be stressing like this.

  Either way, it didn’t make things any easier. I was pacing in the apartment, waiting for him to come back, begging for him to come back.

  He’d left at about 9 p.m., which was way earlier than the night before. I guess that would have meant he’d be coming home earlier, but right now, it just left me hoping he could come back.

  I needed to find an easier way to be alone. There were going to be many more nights like this, and it just wasn’t going to get any easier. Unless Derek had some fetish for a woman with gray hair, lots of wrinkles, and weight gained all before the age of twenty-five, then I was pretty sure he wasn’t going to like it either. He was too sweet to say otherwise, but the prostitution business showed me men could change awfully quick with a bad makeover.

  Part of me thought of going out there, but that seemed downright suicidal. Besides, what good would it to do yell at Derek for being a lone wolf when I would be doing the exact same thing by openly defying such orders? Roost hadn’t had a bad word with me yet, but he would if I did that.

  Although I had to imagine that at some point, my self-defense training would get put to use. Yeah, self-defense, Eve. Not others-offense. Keep to yourself.

  I tried meditating in bed, but that lasted a laughably short time. The idea of “calming yourself” and “letting your thoughts pass by without judgment” just led to a hell of a lot of dark thoughts having control of my mind. In some ways, I think it made things worse in comparison to what they were.

  I tried to look out from the window and imagine where my Derek Knight was, but, yeah, that didn’t work.

  I ordered pizza—again; this was becoming a bit of a problem—and got ice cream and started watching some Netflix, and that actually worked for a little bit thanks to the novelty of a new show about vampires and some comedy that followed. It was a well done show, but after the first episode ended, I found myself once again wandering in my head.

  I needed someone to talk to. I needed someone to vent to.

  I picked up my phone and called Tara. It rang once… twice… three times…

  “Hey, hey!”

  I sighed. I already knew it was her voicemail.

  “You know who you called. Leave a—”

  I hung up before I had to. I let the phone fall in my hand. And then…

  I dialed another number. I had no idea if I’d get an answer, or even a good answer if I got one, but I had to try. If nothing else, hearing another human voice would help some.

  “Eve, girlie, whatcha doin’?” Matty said, his voice forcefully calm—likely because he had to focus on the mission at hand.

  “Oh, nothing,” I said, trying to pretend to be fine. “OK, no, I’m not, Matty. If you got work to do, just say the word and I’ll hang up and let you get back, but I’m so scared for Derek. I just… I know he’s got backup and all that, but this is getting serious now, isn’t it? Like, shouldn’t we have men besides Derek out there? I’m sorry, I don’t mean—”

  “Don’t ya apologize for anything, girl,” Matty said. “Yer the one who got Derek out of his funk. Ya got a lot of leeway, but I ain’t even think of it like that. I just like ya. So ya got nothin’ ya need to worry about. Do ya just need to talk?”

  “That would help, if you’re not busy.”

>   “Nah,” Matty said. “I may get another call from Derek or one of the other boys out on patrol, and if so, I gotsta bounce off, but I’m happy to speak with ya ‘till I ain’t able to.”

  “OK,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Well, actually, Matty, I know I’m asking a lot, but can you come here? I’d just… I know, I’m a basket case right now and it’s so ridiculous.”

  “Girlie, what did I just say?” Matty said with a laugh. “Ya ain’t got nothin’ to worry ‘bout! Ya want yer big gay bear friend to come have a sleepover?”

  “Yes.”

  The tone of my voice was in stark contrast to the seemingly half-cheerful mood Matty presented. I wasn’t sure if he just didn’t have much worries or if he was trying to make me feel better, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized it didn’t much matter. I was going to feel like a mess unless I got to speak to someone as if they were my therapist, and since Tara wasn’t answering her phone, Matty it was.

  And anyways, I had a feeling Matty could better sympathize than Tara could.

  “Be there in twenty, mmk?”

  “Thanks, Matty.”

  “Ya got it,” he said, hanging up right after.

  I felt some relief as I went back to munching on pizzas, but then I felt a new wave of guilt come on. I had pulled Matty away from the mission… and sure, he’d have his phone with him, maybe his laptop; he’d certainly come armed with whatever he needed to protect us.

  But what was more important, my emotional state of being or Matty being able to coordinate the mission?

  I shook my head in disbelief at how selfish I had been. Pulling Matty away… it was like asking Derek to get me McDonald’s right when he had a lead on Falcon. Too stupid, too selfish, too diva.

  I went to my recent dials list and called Matty. It rang once… twice… three times… four times… five times…

  “Ya reached Roost, ya know what to do.”

  I hung up.

  He was already on his bike. That was the only way he wasn’t noticing his phone. On a night like this, he’d be glued to it otherwise.

  You’re the best gay friend a girl could ever have, Matty. I don’t deserve to have you. I owe you in so many ways.