by Lane Hart
“That doesn’t seem like Hector,” I reply. “He’s after blood. My blood. He wouldn’t leave until he hurt me. Reece is supposed to have killed the cameras. Let me call him and see if he spotted anything. Hell, maybe he killed the power to the joint.”
The words have barely left my mouth when my phone buzzes in my pocket. As soon as I pull it up and see Maddox’s name on the screen, panic grabs me by the throat.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“The bar’s under attack –” he says, and that’s all I need to hear before I hang up.
“Back to the bar, now!” I tell the guys before I crank my bike and speed off down the road. And even going as fast as the throttle will let me, it’s not fast enough.
When I pull up to the street, I see Ben and Roy, the guys from the Charlotte charter who stayed behind to protect the bar, laid out on the ground next to their bikes. Seeing them, I fucking know that they’re dead and that there’s not going to be any survivors in the building.
Still, I have to see for myself. With my heart trying to pound its way through my chest, I lay my bike down and race toward the front door with my gun out and raised.
“Chase, wait!” I vaguely hear Torin yell over the roar of engines filling up the parking lot. But I don’t stop. I can’t even if it’s an ambush inside just waiting to blow my head off.
“Sasha!” I yell when I step inside and find the bar destroyed, tables turned over, the jukebox on its side, broken bottles of booze everywhere.
Thank fuck there are no more bodies.
Where is everyone? Did they run downstairs for cover when they heard gunfire?
The basement door has dozens of bullet holes in it along with the keypad meant to keep people out, so all I have to do is push it open to go through it. “Sasha!” I yell as I jog down the stairs.
Every apartment door has been busted open and sprayed with bullets, but I don’t look inside any of them. Casings cover the floor, along with smears of blood like someone was dragged away. My boots stop just out front of my room, and I have to fight with myself to make me look inside.
With shaking hands, I burst through it…and find it empty.
Where the hell is she?
Fuck! Did they take her and the other girls?
Pulling out my phone, I call her number. The line clicks over, but I don’t hear anything.
“Sasha?” I shout.
“Ch- ” it sounds like she starts to say my name but her words cut out.
“Sasha, where are you?” I yell as the other guys catch up to me and start looking through all the rooms.
“The whole place is empty,” Abe remarks when he appears at my side.
“Where the fuck is everyone?” Torin asks. “War’s checking on Roy and Ben, but it doesn’t look good. Abe, get on the phone and try to call Maddox again.”
“Chase? Chase, I’m here. I’m at the farmhouse,” Sasha finally says clearly through the phone line.
“Oh, thank fuck,” I reply with a heavy exhale of relief. “Are you okay? Are the girls with you?”
“Yes,” she says.
“Good, sweetheart. I’m so fucking glad to hear your voice,” I tell her.
“What happened? Are you okay?” she asks frantically.
“No one was at the fucking pool hall!” I explain to her.
“Oh crap! That must be why Reece had Turtle load us all up and bring us here,” Sasha tells me.
“Yeah, well it’s a damned good thing,” I say. “Is he there with you?”
“No,” she answers.
“Fuck! What about Maddox and Holden?” I ask.
“No, it’s just the girls, me and Turtle. Why?”
“Hector attacked the bar after we left. Ben and Roy, two of our brothers from Charlotte, are most likely dead. I got a call from Maddox and came back, but now we don’t know where the hell those three are.”
“God, Chase, I’m so sorry,” she says. “Do you want us to come back?”
“No, this place is a goddamn mess,” I tell her as I look around at the destruction. “Stay there. I’m on my way.”
“Okay. I love you,” Sasha responds with a sigh.
“Love you too, sweetheart,” I say before ending the call.
“What the hell is going on?” Torin asks as he stabs his fingers through his hair. “Are they okay?”
“Yeah, the women are. They’re with Sasha at the farmhouse.”
All the guys curse in relief, until Abe holds up a hand for silence. “Maddox?” he barks into the phone. “Slow down, kid, I’m gonna put you on the speaker. Chase and Torin are right here too.”
Holding the phone out, there’s a beep as the speaker clicks on. The sound of ragged breathing echoes from the phone. “You still there?” Maddox asks.
“Yeah, Mad-man, we’re here,” I yell. “Where the fuck are you?”
“Reece sent the girls off to the farmhouse when Hector’s went dark. So then Holden and I were just sitting around the bar when all of a sudden the bastards started shooting up the place. I called you while I was running downstairs to get Reece.”
“Are you guys okay?” I bark at the phone, trying to get Maddox to focus. “There’s a helluva lot of blood down here.”
“It’s not ours,” Reece’s calm, clipped voice says. “Those sons of bitches came out of nowhere.”
“Who and how many?” I ask.
“They were definitely Hector’s men,” Reece mutters. “I’ve seen them on the video feeds. It was at least half a dozen who rushed inside, maybe more outside. They all made it out, but two of them had to be carried.”
“You should have seen him,” Maddox yells. “He ran out of his room looking like Rambo or something. This motherfucker had a M60 in his hands!”
“It’s a M240,” Reece grumbles in irritation.
“Anyway, he lit the place up like Christmas,” Maddox cackles. “I followed him up the stairs when they retreated, and we got out. Holden wasn’t hurt, he took off out the backdoor. We found him out at the edge of the woods and we’re still hunkered down here in the swamp.”
“Find your way back to the clubhouse,” Torin says at the same time sirens can be heard from upstairs. “Our men from Charlotte are either dead or headed that fucking way.”
“Damn,” Reece mutters. “I’m sorry. I should’ve seen them coming…”
“It’s not your fault,” I tell him. “You’re not fucking psychic. There was no way for any of us to know this would happen.”
“I had a feeling that motherfucker was up to something when the pool hall emptied out,” Reece says. “That’s why I sent the girls away. I was hoping the jackass was just running. I hate it when I’m fucking right.”
“You did good saving the girls and the prospects,” I say. “Now get back here so we can find that bastard and make him pay.”
After I end the call, Torin turns to Sax and tells our communications man, “Keep the Carolina charters here and divide up the rest to ride in every possible fucking direction. I want them to look under every single crack whore and drug dealer until we find Hector.”
“Yes, sir,” Sax says before he runs up the stairs to start making assignments.
“Goddamn him!” Torin roars before he rams his fist into the wall, making plaster dust rain down on all of us.
“We’re gonna get him,” I promise my brother when I grip his shoulder, pulling him away from the wall before he breaks his hand and can’t ride. “The fucker may have got away tonight, but he can’t hide forever. We’ll find him, no matter how long it takes. And then we’ll make him pay. You hear me?” I ask him.
“Yeah,” he grumbles as his shoulders slump and his head hangs in defeat.
No, this isn’t a defeat, I tell myself. It’s just a temporary setback. We may have lost two good men, but Hector’s day of reckoning will come.
“You gonna be okay here? I need to take some of the boys to pick the girls up from the farmhouse.”
“Yeah, this is all going to have to be cl
eaned up,” Torin responds in a flat tone that I don’t like. “Hector’s destroyed my entire life, and I swear to fucking Christ, I’m going to clean it up,” he hisses.
“Most of the crew will stay here to help,” I tell him, even though I understand what he really means about cleaning up. “Start here, tonight, just picking up things around the club. It’s going to be a big job, but we’ll get it done, together.”
Torin gives me a sharp nod, then disappears down the hall. I look around at the somber faces of my brothers, gathered in the wreckage of our clubhouse and surrounded by even more death. “Let’s go get our girls,” I tell them with a sigh.
…
Sasha
As soon as I hear the rumble of the motorcycles, I go running out to the front porch.
Chase doesn’t waste a second parking his bike and ripping off his helmet before he heads for me. I meet him halfway, jumping into his arms and wrapping mine around his neck to squeeze him tight.
“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” he asks through panting breaths like he ran all the way here.
“No, I’m sorry I didn’t call and let you know where I was, but you had your hands full,” I tell him when I finally ease up my hold on his shoulders to pull back and see his face.
“I’m so damn glad you were here and safe,” Chase says when his hands come to rest on my hips. “I just can’t figure out how we fucked things up tonight.”
“It’s not your fault,” I assure him. “You were going after them, and they were expecting it. I was worried that they might try to hit us again.”
“Us,” he repeats.
“I meant the MC,” I correct.
“It’s okay, sweetheart, you’re part of the Kings now too,” Chase tells me, making me give him a small smile of thanks for that sentiment.
“In that case, there’s just one other little question I think the MC needs to worry about right now,” I tell him.
“What’s that?” he asks with a furrowed brow.
“How did Hector know when you guys would show up? Even if he had eyes on you and watched you leave, that wouldn’t have been enough time for his guys to evacuate and head an hour up the coast to Emerald Isle.”
“What are you saying?” Chase asks as he thinks it over with his forehead creased. Finally, he lowers his voice and says, “You think we have a rat?”
Nodding, I tell him, “Hector knew when Kennedy was at the clubhouse. And from what I noticed, she wasn’t there often, right? And he also knew when to vanish and hit the bar again. Maybe he just had someone tailing you…”
“No, a rat makes more sense,” Chase says with a clenched jaw. “We had the entire strip monitored on camera for a mile each way, and Reece would’ve noticed someone following Kennedy that day. I’m sure he’s been over that footage a dozen times by now.”
“Exactly,” I agree.
“Great, now we have to find out where the hell Hector is before Torin burns down the entire state looking for him, while there’s a rat in our midst, possibly going behind our backs to warn the asshole about our every move,” Chase grumbles, low enough that the men and women coming out of the house can’t hear him.
“I know,” I say quietly. “Just please be careful and make sure Abe always has your back when you ride. You trust him completely, don’t you?”
“Fuck, yes. There’s no way in hell he’s the rat,” Chase answers.
“Then he’ll help keep you safe for me,” I tell him.
Licking his lips as he lowers his eyes in thought, Chase says, “Sweetheart, shit around here is gonna get dangerous for everyone. I know being with me isn’t safe for you, and never will be. I can’t guarantee I won’t get hurt or that you won’t either, but I’ll try to be smarter and do everything I can to protect you if you decide you want to take a chance on us again.”
“Okay,” I agree with a smile, glad that it sounds like he’s finally going to stop pushing me away out of fear of losing me.
“Okay?” he asks.
“Yes. That’s what I want. I told you that I’m well aware of all the risks that come along with you and the MC, and I think you’re worth it.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes!” I reply adamantly.
“Then, once everything settles down around here, how about we finally take that trip to Vegas?” he asks with a grin.
“Absolutely,” I answer without hesitation before I lift my lips to his for a long, sweet kiss. One that I know won’t be our last.
Epilogue
A few days later…
Sasha
Saturday afternoon I’m going through my huge pile of clothes that’s been tossed on Chase’s bed at the farmhouse, hanging each article one at a time in his closet. What may seem like a tedious task to some is as exciting as winning the lottery to me, because it means that Chase and I are moving in together.
While I love the clubhouse, we both thought that it would be nice to have a place to ourselves where we can cook and eat naked in the kitchen if we so choose.
Everything is damn near perfect, including the fact that the news station hasn’t uttered a word about firing me even though my affiliation with the MC is out in the open. In fact, I’m pretty sure that’s one of the main reason’s they’ve been so nice to me lately. The only thing that still weighs heavily on me is not speaking to my parents for weeks now…
My cell phone beeps from the back pocket of my cutoffs, so I pull it out, hoping it’s a message from Chase.
Sure enough, it is. The message is confusing yet thrilling.
Put on a fancy dress, sweetheart, and be ready at the farmhouse at six.
That message is quickly followed up with a correction.
Scratch that. I should’ve said OUR house.
Grinning like a lunatic, my fingers tap out an instant response.
I’ll be ready at OUR house, but where are we going?
Chase’s reply is short.
If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise.
I’m not all that shocked that he would plan something for me, but I am curious about why he wants me to dress “fancy” since Chase doesn’t own a single thing formal. I know this because of who he is and the fact that I’m trying to squeeze my clothes into the closet with all the things that he hung up days ago because he was so eager to get moved in. All he owns are jeans, most with holes in them, t-shirts, wife beaters, a few hoodies for winter, and boots. That’s it.
Still, I follow his instructions. And after my makeup is done and hair has been arranged with loose curls over my bare shoulders, I pick out a purple and silver sleeveless gown with nearly a billion sequins and a slit that goes all the way up to my thigh. It’s the most extravagant dress I own, and I’ve only worn it once to the AP award banquet last year.
Pairing the dress with silver, strappy heels, I’m ready to go a few minutes before six. I head down the stairs and wait in the living room until I hear the crunch of gravel outside. When I jump up to look out the front window, my jaw falls open at the sight of a long, black limo. Even more shocking than the limo out here in the rural part of town is the tall, handsome, bearded man who climbs out of it in a black tuxedo.
“Oh, my God,” I mutter aloud when I finally realize that the man is Chase. He looks so different that it didn’t quite register.
Rushing to the front door, I throw it open and say, “Chase, baby, are you feeling okay?”
“I feel great, sweetheart,” he replies with a grin. “And you look…damn, you’re sexy as fuck,” he adds as his eyes lower and take in every inch of my curves filling out the snug dress. I throw in a slow spin for him to get the full view of my backside too.
“Get your ass down here before I drag you upstairs and all my hard work on your surprise goes down the drain,” he grumbles, refusing to come up the stairs to the porch.
That makes me laugh. And while I wouldn’t mind if we stayed here and tumbled on the pile of clothes I left up on the bed, I hold on to the railing and walk down the
steps toward Chase because I need to see what he’s been up to.
“Thank you,” I tell him with a quick kiss on his cheek before I run my hands down the lapels of his tux to make sure I’m not seeing things.
“For what?” he asks. “You don’t even know what it is yet.”
“No, but I’m sure I’ll love it,” I tell him.
“I’m gonna remind you of those words later,” he mutters, making me worry a tad since he sounds so serious.
“Come on,” Chase says, before I can question him further. He takes my hand and walks me to the back of the limo, and then opens the door for me to climb in first.
“Wow, this is…wow,” I say as I slide across the black leather seat to make room for Chase. He slips in and shuts the door. There’s a screen up, so I can’t see the driver, but we have the enormous back seat to ourselves that could easily fit about ten normal size people or five of Chase’s MC brothers.
“You want something to drink?” Chase asks, nodding to the bar.
“No, I’m okay,” I say, now feeling a little nervous about what we’re doing.
“Relax, sweetheart,” Chase says when he wraps his arm around my shoulders to pull me against him.
I nod, and then try to do as he suggested, inhaling him in, smelling the comforting leather scent of his cut that lingers on him even when he’s not wearing it, like it’s a part of his skin. God, I love that smell and I love him.
“Any news on Hector?” I ask in the silence.
“Not even so much as one fucking ping,” Chase huffs. “Reece has alerts set up for him and his daughter, but so far they haven’t used a single credit card to give away their location.”
“You’ll find him,” I say with my hand rubbing his thigh. “How’s Torin?”
“Spiraling,” he grumbles. “I think he’s moved from the anger stage of grief to the depressed one. He’s drinking way too much. This morning I found him passed out asleep on the stairs of the bar when I went in. I asked the guys why no one fucking moved him to a bed, and they all said Torin fought them off and told them he, quote, ‘didn’t deserve any such comforts.’”
