Circle of Death

by Colleen Masters

  We sail on, cutting through the high waves of the Atlantic. At long last, the gunfire ceases. Only then do I trust that we’ve truly escaped The Club’s grasp. At least, for now. Overcome, Emma sinks into a troubled slumber, her tiny form curled against mine. And as the motion of the boat stabilizes, I allow myself to drift off to sleep, too. This time, however, I don’t even bother praying to wake from the nightmare scene of this evening.

  I know in my heart that I never will.

  “Logan. Logan, babe. Wake up,” Devlin murmurs above me.

  I jerk myself out of my shallow slumber, my every muscle aching. Devlin’s dark eyes hover just before mine, brimming with concern and heartache. Titan stands beside him, ready to take care of Emma. I gently shake my friend awake, smoothing down her blonde hair as she rises out of slumber.

  “Did we make it?” she asks, her voice soft and high.

  “Depends what you mean,” Devlin says solemnly, helping me to my feet. “We’re back to the mainland at least.”

  We make our way up to the deck. Morning sunlight is just beginning to brighten the sky above us. The boat, riddled with bullet holes but afloat all the same, is docked beside a rocky shoreline. A few other boats are moored alongside this one, each bearing the sigil of the Circle of Death. Titan leads Emma away, giving Devlin and me a moment alone.

  “Where are we?” I ask Devlin, my voice ragged and hollow.

  “We’re home,” he says, wrapping an arm protectively around my waist. “This is our headquarters.”

  I look up and see a series of old structures built into the pier. It’s a place without flourish, without frills. I’ve been so curious to see the MC’s headquarters, so eager to start my life here. But I can’t find an ounce of joy or enthusiasm in my heart now.

  “It’s true, isn’t it? What Klein told us,” I whisper, raising my eyes to Devlin’s.

  “We can’t be certain,” he says, his jaw clenching, “But I can feel it in my gut, Logan.”

  “So can I,” I admit, my heart threatening to burst into a thousand bitter shards. “They’re really gone, aren’t they? Packer and Jules...”

  He doesn’t reply, simply pulls me into a crushing embrace. The tears I’ve been swallowing finally rise in my eyes, spilling out of me in a rush of despair. My whole body is wracked with sobs as the reality of our loss washes over me. The shock of this discovery, the memory of the men who I very likely left for dead, it’s all too overwhelming.

  “It’s not just them,” Devlin finally manages to say.

  “Wh-what?” I stammer, looking up at him through tear-washed eyes.

  “The fire fight,” he goes on, his voice thick with grief. “We took down a good few of Klein’s men, but...”

  “No,” I breathe, steadying myself against Dev’s solid form. “Who—?”

  “Otis,” he replies, letting his head hang. “We lost Otis in the fight.”

  I throw my arms around Devlin’s shoulders, clutching him to me. We stand together on the pier, the sky lightening overhead. A new day is dawning, our first having escaped the clutches of Leviathan, of The Club. But any sense of victory has been dashed—murdered alongside our brothers and sister. Returning to our new life together was supposed to be joyous, revelatory. But now, it’s steeped in tragedy.

  “We all could have been killed,” Devlin growls, shaking his head. “The entire club. You...It would have been my fault. All of this is my fault.”

  “No,” I say fiercely, catching his face in my hands. “This is Klein’s fault. Leviathan’s fault. Not yours.”

  “I led my brothers into danger. I never should have brought them out to that rock,” he goes on, staring out across the choppy sea.

  “You did everything you could to get them home safely,” I whisper fiercely.

  “Packer. Jules,” he utters mournfully, unable to speak their names without pain.

  “I know,” I whisper, laying a kiss on his scruffy cheek. “But they’re gone, Devlin. We have to help each other through this, now.”

  He looks down at me, as if surprised by my words. “You’ll...you’ll stay with me?” he breathes, disbelieving. “After everything that’s happened?”

  “There’s nowhere else I want to be,” I tell him fiercely. “Now more than ever.”

  Devlin brings his lips to mine, kissing me hard and deep. Our hearts are shattered, our future uncertain. But through all the danger and destruction, the terror and the rage, we have each other. And we’ll find a way to keep on living—for those we’ve lost, for ourselves, and most importantly, for each other.

  Epilogue

  The Circle of Death Clubhouse

  Three Months Later

  I pull the thick flannel shirt more tightly around my body as the cool September wind skirts across the water. The salty breeze tosses my black hair as I stand at the edge of the pier, looking out across the early evening sea. It feels like a lifetime ago that we arrived back here at the Circle of Death headquarters, fleeing from the deranged men of the Leviathan Corporation. But at the same time, the memories of that night, that week, are as deliciously and painfully fresh as if they happened yesterday. The best and worst hours of my entire life so far occurred within the space of that week. It’s no wonder I’m still processing everything that happened.

  The reassuring sound of an approaching Harley’s motor catches my ear. Looking over my shoulder, I watch as four huge bikes roar into the Circle of Death compound. The boys are back from their run. I dash across the sturdy boards as the men dismount—Leon, Lobo, Dean, and in the lead, Devlin Vile. My man lifts off his half shell helmet and shoves a hand through his jet black hair. Seeing me, he breaks into a grateful grin. He still looks pleasantly surprised every time he comes back to find me waiting here. But I suppose that’s only fair. The experiment of our shared life is still pretty new.

  “How did it go?” I ask, wrapping my arms around Devlin’s hard torso.

  “Well as can be expected,” he replies, slinging an arm over my shoulder.

  “The rest of the chapters are pretty shaken up about what Leviathan tried to pull with us,” Leon says, as we make our way to the clubhouse.

  “We had to crush a bit of dissent,” Lobo growls, “There were some members who thought we ought to have just let those fuckers buy us out.”

  “Are you serious?” I ask angrily.

  “Don’t worry. Those members have been...dealt with,” says Dean. He walks at Devlin’s other side, standing a little taller now that he wears the VP patch. The title was passed along to him in the wake of Packer’s death. Dean’s one of the youngest members around here, just a little bit older than me. But he’ll make an amazing vice president, all of us think so.

  I lean a little closer to Devlin, happy to consider myself a part of the “us” that is The Circle of Death. After we escaped from The Club and hightailed it back here, I was finally able to get the story of Leviathan’s deception straight. Emma told me everything she knew before beating it back to Boston. After I turned down the FootSolider assignment, Elliot Simmons tracked Emma down and told her as much as she could. Elliot’s hands had been tied by Leviathan for a long time—the note of warning she sent along with Emma was the extent of what she could do for me. Since getting back to the mainland, I’ve seen plenty of blog posts and articles reporting that Elliot has disappeared. I can only hope she’s finally escaped the clutches of the Corporation, that they haven’t caught up to her just yet.

  Devlin and I step into the clubhouse, out of the chilly evening air. At once, I feel relieved. Safe within these walls. It’s only been a few months, but the Circle of Death clubhouse has come to feel more like home than anywhere I’ve ever lived. The solid oak bar, the wide wooden floor boards and exposed brick walls, the rows and rows of liquor bottles and the handful of familiar faces all around all serve to put me at ease. I never understood before this summer what Juliet must have seen in the outlaw way, but now I know full well why she chose this life for herself.

  A pang of gr
ief seizes me at the very thought of my sister’s name. I glance up at the back wall of the bar as we approach, resting my eyes on the three pictures we hung there in memory of our fallen friends. The smiling faces of Packer, Juliet, and Otis watch over us as we do our best to soldier on. We gave Otis a proper Circle of Death memorial, attended by every chapter in driving distance. He was the last original member of the MC, his passing marked a new era of this club’s history. A new generation has taken up the reins, and leading the charge is none other than Devlin Vile. My man.

  The memorial we held we Packer and Juliet was a smaller, more intimate affair. We never recovered their bodies from the burnt-out club that became their tomb. There was no way we could ever return to that rock to search for them after our escape. But though we have no physical proof of their passing, we all know in our hearts that they’re gone. For a couple of weeks after the fire, we all harbored the unspoken hope that the pair would surface somewhere, having escaped on their own. But those hopes dissipated as the weeks passed. We had a tiny service for them on the dock here at headquarters, just me and the six surviving members of the Circle of Death. I didn’t bother letting my parents know about the event. To them, Juliet’s been dead for years.

  “Drink, boys?” asks Xan behind the bar.

  “Abso-fucking-lutely,” the lean Lobo replies, settling down at the bar beside Leon.

  “Let’s have a round on the house, Xan,” Devlin says, rallying the MC members, sweet butts, and a handful of regular hang-arounds.

  The motley crew of survivors and friends gather along the bar to claim their glasses. Devlin slips his arm around my waist as he raises his glass to the congregation of outlaws.

  “I want to take a moment to acknowledge what day it is,” Devlin begins, glancing up at the three portraits hanging over the bar. “Today marks three months since we lost our brothers and sister—Packer, Otis, and Juliet. The last link to our club’s past, and two of the champions of its future were stolen from us. But with your help, and determination, and support, the Circle of Death is finding new ways forward. We’ll rebuild. We’ll grow. We’ll be stronger than ever. The three members we lost would be so proud of us, the way we’re carrying on. They’d want us to forge ahead, make this club even more of a force to be reckoned with. And let’s be honest, they’d want us to have a good time even as we honor their memories.

  So let’s raise our glasses to those we’ve lost and keep on raising them. Crank up the music, roll out some joints, and let’s have a little fun around here. For them.”

  “For them,” the assembled group repeats, draining their glasses with vigor. Hollering voices fill the bar as smiles spread across the faces all around me. We’re facing down heartache and hardship, but we might as well do it with grins on our faces and whiskey in our bellies.

  Someone throws some hard rock on the juke box, and Xan keeps the drinks coming as our de facto bartender. The mood in the bar is lighter than it’s been in three months. Losing Packer, Juliet, and Otis all at once has bound us all together more tightly than ever. I don’t know how I could even begin to imagine weathering this loss without my newfound family by my side. Especially the new, exciting, incomparable man in my life.

  I slide over to where Devlin is holding forth at the bar, settling onto his lap. His strong arms encircle me as we look out across the raucous bar together. Dean and Brutus are locked in a masterful game of pool with Chip taking bets. Lobo and Leon each have sweet butts on both arms as they recount the heroic escape we made from The Club three months ago. Xan slides another couple of beers across the bar to me and Devlin, which we happily snatch up.

  “Still glad you came back with me?” Devlin asks, running a hand down my arm. I’ve wrapped my flannel around my waist, leaving my lean limbs bare.

  “More than ever,” I assure him, taking a swig of beer. “Still happy I came along?”

  “Nothing’s ever made me happier,” he smiles back, pulling me close.

  “Me either,” I tell him honestly. Even with everything we’ve been working through these past three months, I’ve never felt like I belonged anywhere more than here. I spent so much of my childhood and adolescence feeling like I wasn’t good enough, that I had nothing to look forward to. Devlin Vile and the Circle of Death changed all of that. They took me in when I would have had nowhere else to go, just like they did for Juliet all those years ago. I guess my sister and I are more alike than we ever suspected. I’ll always regret not having had more time to get to know Jules. But being here with the Circle of Death, I feel like I’m still close to her. Still honoring her legacy, in a way.

  I haven’t given my parents any new details about my life and whereabouts. Better to let them keep on thinking I’m gathering material for some article or other. I’m certainly gathering experience here, though it’s not the kind you write down for the masses. The only other person from my old life that I had to say goodbye to was Emma. Free spirit that she is, she understood why I needed to stay with Dev. My whole former life is in the rearview mirror, now. I’ve kicked around the idea of sharing what I’ve learned—from the fact that there are professors selling out their students’ information back in Boston, to the employment of young women as bait by the likes of Leviathan. But that corporation is not to be fucked with lightly. I have to pick the right moment to strike back. For now, recovery is the name of the game. Recovery, and reveling in my new life at Devlin Vile’s side.

  By the time midnight rolls around, the Circle of Death clubhouse is bursting with rollicking, wild energy. Drunken voices holler and cry out as old friends and new recount adventures, close calls, and hilarious tales of high jinks and hijackings alike. Booze flows like water, and music pounds through the air. Everyone is so wrapped up in the partying spirit that no one even notices as Devlin lifts me off my feet and all but carries me of the clubhouse.

  I draw in huge gulps of salty night air, relishing the chill of it against my flushed skin. Opening my arms to the starry night sky, I feel light and free, unburdened for the first time in months. Devlin’s right. We have to keep on living, keep on growing. It’s what those we lost would have wanted for us.

  “Outlaw life looks good on you,” Devlin grins, grabbing hold of my hips from behind.

  I give my weight over to him as he wraps his this arms around my waist. His scruffy jaw brushes against my cheek, sending a shiver of delight down my spine. I still can’t quite believe that I have this incredible man to myself, these days.

  “I hope you don’t mind leaving the party early,” he goes on, running his strong hands down my sides. “But I couldn’t keep my hands off you for another second.”

  “I’m not asking you to,” I murmur, writhing with delight under his touch. I can already feel him growing hard for me. I’ll never stop being amazed and thrilled at how turned on he gets by turning me on. Talk about a win-win.

  “Let’s go,” he growls, leading me away from the boisterous bar, up along the rocky shore. There are a handful of bedrooms built into the back of the clubhouse, but the Circle of Death president gets quarters all his own. A small, Cape Cod style cabin sits on a hillside overlooking the compound and sea alike. It’s this place that I’ve come to call home. It’s well-kept and clean, but free of any bells or whistles. The perfect love nest for a couple like us. As we approach the small, stately structure, Devlin scoops me up into his arms like a new bride. He all but kicks down the door, bearing me back safely into our shared home.

  In one swift motion, Devlin slams the door behind us and whips me around, pressing me up against the solid wooden door. I laugh delightedly, wrapping my legs around his waist as he pins me there. His full lips find mine, and the taste of him bewitches my senses for the thousandth time. Instead of growing accustomed to our passionate want of each other, the fire of our need is only stoked every time we touch.

  I plant my feet on the ground, reaching down to run my hands along Devlin’s long, stiff cock. A groan rises in my throat as I take him in my hands. But before
I can rip open his belt buckle, Devlin catches my wrists, forcing me to meet his gaze.

  “Get on the bed,” he orders me, “Now.”

  I take a step away from him and do as he commands. His eyes rake all along my body as I saunter away from him into the bedroom we’ve come to share. As I reach the edge of the mattress, I lower myself onto my hands and knees. Crawling across the expansive bed sheets, I feel his hands close around my hips once more.

  “On your back,” he tells me. I flip over at once, letting my legs fall open as he kneels over me, his staggering body bristling with lust. Devlin lowers himself to me, bringing his lips to the tender skin of my throat. “Stay perfectly still,” he murmurs, “I mean it.”

  I will myself not to grab hold of Devlin as his lips skirt across my bare skin. His kisses trail across my collarbone, down to my breasts, until finally he closes his teeth around the neckline of my thin cotton tank top, pulling it down and away. He tears at the layers of my clothes with his teeth, until my breasts are bare and heaving before him. Devlin sucks and bites at my nipples as he pushes up my denim skirt. My entire body is trembling, trying to keep from clutching onto him.

  He trails down the length of my ready, supple body, and I feel him tear down my panties with those ravenous teeth of his. The primal urgency of his every action has me wet and eager between my legs. I moan as I feel Devlin’s tongue tracing along the length of my slit, parting my pink lips with every stroke. He glances against my throbbing clit, and a deep pulsing pressure goes off like a rocket in my core.

  “You’re being so good,” he grins, lifting his eyes to mine.

  “You know how to drive me wild, Dev,” I gasp.

  “Go ahead. Take it all off,” he says, “You have my permission.”