HANDS OFF MY WIFE_Black Cossacks MC

by Claire St. Rose

  She was still wearing the dirty clothes he had given her, her hair was still a mess, and she still wore no makeup. But she still looked so lovely in the morning light that Adam was taken aback. The light played on her skin and against the dark hairs on her to create a halo from the morning’s light. He still didn’t understand who could want to kill this woman. Not only was she beautiful, but she was kind, as well. She had devoted her life to charity, to giving back; she was truly selfless and some monster wanted her dead because her father had a lot of money.

  “They’re going to attack when he’s discharged. It makes the most sense. In the hospital and at home he’ll be under tight security. But in the car ride from the hospital to the home, he’s vulnerable.”

  “When is he being discharged?” Adam asked. He knew she was right; now he needed to figure out what to do.

  “Today, at nine,” Dakota said. Her face looked grim.

  He knew she would have to be with her father when he left the hospital. Adam knew, that no matter how dangerous it was, Dakota would never leave someone she loved to face danger alone. He would never be able to convince her otherwise. It was part of her nature.She had a core that was kindness and love and there was an excellent chance it would get her killed. But it was who she was. She could never stop caring for the people she loved, just like Adam. I could just lock her up somewhere, he thought idly, but he knew it wouldn’t be that easy. Dakota was tougher than he ever would have thought. He knew there was no room that could hold her.

  “Call Joey for me,” Adam said as they continued down the road. An idea was forming in his head. It made sense; he always had his best ideas when driving.

  People would always have something to say about Scarred Angels, about biker clubs, in general. They would say they were dangerous and out of control, and that the world would be better off without them. But they couldn’t see into the inside of it. They would never understand how they functioned.

  The members were brothers. When one called for help the rest arrived. No matter where they were or what they were doing, when one of them was in trouble and needed help, the rest came. That’s all it really was: having someone to depend on. Knowing you are never alone, no matter what happens to you or when you go, if you remain loyal to the club, the club will always be loyal to you.

  Pennsylvania Hospital had never seen anything like it before – thirty men on their motorcycles waiting outside of the hospital. They were polite, they parked in the appropriate places, and they kept their engines low to not wake the resting patients. They watched everything and everyone. And people passing them on the street pointed and stared and whispered, wondering questions about what was happening. Every person who walked past them was marked and remembered, everyone and no one was an enemy. They were like an honor guard. They would escort John Kane from the hospital to his home, and anyone who wanted to attack Kane would have to get through thirty men first. It was the day of John Kane’s release, and if you hired Scarred Angels to protect you, they were damn well going to do it.

  “Car’s clean, and I got Bill and Wade watching it. Mike, Joe, and Robbie at the entrance to the garage. No one is going to mess with that car.” John Kane would be transported in what looked like a simple black car. It wasn’t simple, of course; the body was reinforced, the windows were tinted and bulletproof, the tires bulletproof, as well. This was how the president moved from place to place and if it were safe enough for the leader of the free world, then it would do what they needed it to do. There were always eyes on the cars and the only people in them would be members of Scarred Angels.

  Adam surveyed them from a window in John’s suite. His arms crossed, he stared down at his brothers. They had all worked late last night, but here they were, following orders and ready to put their own lives on the line. What would happen if one of them got hurt, if one of them took the hit for John? Just because they couldn’t afford a bodyguard didn’t mean their lives were worth less – just the opposite according to Adam. They were hard workers. Most had come from tough homes and raised themselves. But he knew that if one of them fell, it wouldn’t be in vain. If a member of Scarred Angels didn’t come back from this, the Soul Stealers would be wiped off the map. They would be hunted down man by man until their name was a warning to anyone else would dare to attack Scarred Angels.

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

  “Hi, Daddy,” Dakota said as she walked into her father’s room.

  He was dressed in a simple pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt, but he looked better than he had in weeks. His skin had regained its color, his breathing was normal, and there were no more tubes or wires sticking out of him. He was standing on his own and smiling at her. He still wasn’t quite one hundred percent; he couldn’t walk very far and needed to rest most of the day. But he was alive. He was awake and smiling at her. All they had to do was get through the ride home.

  Dakota had gone back to Adam’s to change into her own clothes, but there had been no time for a shower and her hair still smelled of cigarette smoke from the Black Mark. She should have felt exhausted. She had been up all night running around the city. But she felt just the opposite. She was keyed up, her nerves jangling, her eyes wide open, her adrenaline pumping and she felt acutely aware of everything and everyone around her.

  “Pumpkin, are you all right? I don’t mean to insult you, but you look rather tired,” her father said.

  “It was a long night, but I’m okay,” Dakota said. “Adam took care of me.”

  “Hmm, yes. Mr. Mendel, it seems he was a good hire. We’ll have to thank James for introducing us to him. Where is James, by the way? I can’t believe he would miss my great debut back into the world.”

  “Don’t take it personally, but he doesn’t know. The person who attacked you is still out there and we need to be careful. Anyone who doesn’t need to know, doesn’t know.”

  “Dakota, are you sure? The police and James are both confident they have our attacker in custody.”

  “Dad, I’m sure. Something else in going on and you need to trust me on this.” Dakota said. She still didn’t want to tell him what happened in the parking garage. If her father knew, he would never let her out of his sight. She’d be trapped at the Kane mansion while others did the dangerous work. She couldn’t allow that. She couldn’t allow anyone to get hurt for her.

  “And do all of those bikers down there need to know?” he asked.

  “We can trust them. Each and everyone one,” Dakota answered.

  “Time to go,” Adam said, entering the room. “The car’s all ready.”

  “Daddy, I don’t think you’ve officially met,” she said, ushering Adam into the room. “This is Adam Mendel, the man who saved my life.”

  “It is truly an honor, Mr. Mendel,” John said, shaking Adam’s hand. “I don’t know what my family would have done without you. We would have been lost. There are not enough thanks in the world to show you how grateful I am. I can only hope that an opportunity presents itself for me to show you my gratitude.”

  “Thanks,” Adam said.

  Dakota could see how uncomfortable he was with praise, how unused to it he was. She would have to remember to thank him more in the future.

  “I’ve got you, Dad,” Dakota said as she began to push his wheelchair through the door. They walked down the hallway and entered the elevator, taking it straight down to the garage. Joey and Mike were there and they smiled as Dakota pushed her father out of the elevator.

  “Dad, this is Joey and Mike. They work for Adam,” Dakota said.

  “A pleasure,” John said taking his time to shake both their hands and look them in the eye. “You gentleman have done me a great service and I am beyond grateful.”

  At the black car, Adam lent his arm to John, helping him get into the car, and closing the door once he was inside.

  “You’ll be very careful when you’re driving, right?” Dakota asked.

  “I’ll be the most careful person that has ever existed,” Adam said, leanin
g down to touch his forehead to hers. “Promise me you won’t worry.”

  “No,” she said quietly and she pulled his head down to hers and kissed him deeply. Relishing in his scent and his touch, understanding that this could be the last time she ever saw him, this could be the last moment that either of them ever had together. But no moment can last forever, and slowly Dakota pulled herself away from Adam. He held open the door and watched as she sat next to her father and buckled her seatbelt.

  “I’ll see you in a little while,” he said and gently closed the door. Walking up to the driver side, Adam looked at his Uncle Bill who was checking his mirrors.

  “I know, I know,” Bill said, looking at Adam. “Precious cargo in the back. I’ll be safe as safe can be. I’ll get her home in one piece. I promise.”

  Adam nodded, a sudden lump in his throat making it impossible for him to speak. There was no one in the world he trusted more than his Uncle Bill. He would get Dakota home safe and Adam would get the bad guy.

  The car slowly pulled out of the garage and Adam, Joey, and Mike watched it edge out into traffic and disappear down the street. Anonymity would get them home.

  “Let’s roll,” Adam said as he climbed into the driver’s seat of an identical black car and Robbie and Mike got in the back with Joey in the passenger seats. Their shotguns were loaded and they all wore bulletproof vests. Come what may, they were as ready as they could be.

  Adam started the car and pulled out, going the opposite direction from where Dakota and John had driven. From behind him he heard the roar of bikes as his brothers mounted and got ready to ride, some idling behind him while others moved to the front. It was a coordinated movement, one they had done many times before. Adam drove slowly through the city streets, his eyes and ears open, looking for anything that seemed odd or suspicious, other than the biker gang driving through town.

  As a large group, they made their way to the highway, the bikers pushing everyone on the road out of their way. They drove smoothly in silence, watching and waiting for an attack that might never happen. They might give up, Adam thought to himself, they might see the muscle and think now’s a bad time. That was his hope anyway. He put himself in the mind of the contract killer and debated which would be better: attacking Kane on the road surrounded by thirty bikers, or trying to get to him in his home where he would be surrounded by bikers and an impressive security sensor. Both options looked bad, so at least Adam knew he was doing his job well.

  From the highway, they moved on the residential streets of the Kanes’ suburb. Next to him he heard Joey sigh as he looked out the window. Being on alert for so long was draining. Sometimes it got to the point where you wanted something to happen if only to end the interminable waiting.

  “Gun!” he heard the call come through his walkie. “Green Ford, travelling in opposite direction. It just passed me and I saw the guy pull out a gun.” It was Tim, the lead of the gang, the man who led the charge. “Driver’s side, rear seat.”

  “Stop that car!” Joey yelled into the walkie

  All around him Adam heard the clicking of safeties being turned off and guns being cocked as they got ready. Adam was driving. He only had his pistol in its holster, and it would be useless in this kind of fight. His job was to drive, to keep the car steady and give others the opening to shoot.

  BOOM, the sound of a single gunshot and then the screech of a bike’s tires.

  “Took a shot at me, but I’m okay. I wrecked on the side,” he heard another voice call in.

  “Tighten up,” Joey ordered through the walkie as Adam saw the green van approaching.

  A man was leaning out of the sunroof, a gun pointed at Adam’s car. He fired once and Adam instincts drove him to duck, but the windshield was strong, and held against the bullet as he turned the heavy car towards the attackers. More bullets hit the car, each one bringing with it a seismic boom as Adam checked his seatbelt and picked up speed. He could see the attacker, see his weathered face and blond hair. He could see the moment when the hit man understood what was happening, when he understood that this tank of a car was not trying to get past him, but was, in fact, headed straight for him.

  “Ready.” Robbie said

  “Ready,” Mike said.

  “Ready,” Joey said next to him.

  “Ready,” Adam said and he slammed on the gas, heading straight for the Ford. He watched as his brothers peeled back and away from the oncoming disaster.

  Adam could see the whites of the eyes of the attacker when their cars collided. The man’s eyes were wide, and he was yelling something. He looked right at Adam as they crashed. With a sickening crunch, the black car crashed into the green Ford and the other car crumpled beneath the weight of the reinforced monster it had just met. Adam slammed against his seatbelt, as did the other members of Scarred Angels in the car. He was slammed forward and then physics slammed his back into his seat as he coughed and gasped for breath.

  “Alive, unharmed,” Robbie started, and Mike and Joey repeated it, as did Adam as he looked over at the unconscious driver across the hood of his car.

  “Get out of the car!”

  “Weapons down, hands up!”

  Half of the men got off their bikes and circled the car, the rest stayed, engines running in case anyone tried to make a break for it. Adam watched, but didn’t move. Every breath he took was a painful stab and he was sure he had re-broken at least one rib. But he was alive and conscious and he watched as a member of Scarred Angels checked the driver’s pulse. He nodded at Adam, letting him know the man was alive.

  “Get out of the car!” they shouted at the shooter who had still not emerged. Taking a deep breath, Adam undid his seatbelt and staggered out of the car.

  “You should go rest,” he heard someone say.

  “No,” Adam said, his voice hoarse. “We need him alive.”

  “We know, Boss, and it ain’t a problem.”

  A large crowbar was removed from the back of the car as police sirens came towards them. He watched as four men pried open the crumpled door and reached inside, pulling out the shooter, who was barely conscious, a cut on his forehead pumping out blood.

  “He’s alive. We got him,” someone yelled as the men let out a cheer and an exhausted Adam fell back against the car, staring up into the sky, wondering if it was finally all over, praying to God that Dakota was finally safe.

  CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

  Dakota paced up and down the hallway of the Kane mansion. She hadn’t heard anything from Adam yet and the waiting was driving her mad. She and her father had managed to drive home without any issues. Adam’s Uncle Bill drove them home quickly and a nurse was waiting to bring her father back to the house. It had been a shock for John Kane to see several bearded bikers roaming around his house, but Dakota assured him they could be trusted. The house was on full lockdown, all doors and windows shut and locked, the security system turned on. But nothing had happened. They had arrived home and John had been put in his bedroom and now Dakota was stuck waiting.

  Adam’s Uncle Bill was definitely the strong and silent type. He was older, with a lined face, arms covered in tattoos and neatly trimmed salt and pepper beard. He was walking the hallways of the house, keeping his head up and taking everything in. He was a confident man, smooth and never bumping into anything or tripping over the rugs. Dakota wanted to ask him a million questions. Who were Adam’s parents? What had Adam been like as a boy? But there was something in Bill’s manner that discouraged questions. He seemed always stern and in deep thought. Every time Dakota went to talk to him, she got the feeling she was disturbing him.

  “When will we hear something?” Dakota asked Bill who had moved a curtain aside to look out the window.

  “We’ll know soon. Hospital’s not more than thirty out,” Bill said, ending the conversation.

  A phone buzzed and Dakota jumped, stopping in her tracks. She watched as Bill looked at his ringing phone. He gave her a quick glance and then answered. What if the worst had h
appened? Dakota thought. What if Adam or Joey or someone else had died or been hurt protecting someone who was miles away. They would have died for nothing. Dakota bit on her lower lip and watched as Bill took the call, but he remained as unreadable as ever. He just kept repeating the words yes and okay. It took all of Dakota’s inner strength to not rip the phone right out of his hand and demand answers in full sentences.

  Bill hung up the phone and cleared his throat and Dakota wanted to scream. “They got the hit man. No one on our team was hurt. Other side has some injuries. The police have him. Adam should be here in twenty.”

  Dakota let out a sob she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She doubled over for a second before standing straight up and walking over to Bill and hugging him fiercely. The man was uncomfortable with the intimacy and he stammered for a moment before awkwardly patting Dakota on her shoulder. She released him and felt a tear slip down her cheek. But unlike so many of her recent tears, this one was born from happiness. They had stopped it they had actually done it. They had taken Andre’s advice and followed it to Lance Declor and from Lance to the pitiful Tommy. It had been a hunch--nothing more--that had led Dakota to assuming the day of her father’s release would be the attack date, but she had been right.