by Jayne Blue
“Fuck you,” I said, rising to meet him. There was movement at the table. Catman put a hand up to keep Tommy still. I could outdraw him. I was certain of that. But that’s all I could do. Every other man at this table had a piece, and it would only take one of them to end me. It might be worth it, though. The last thing I’d see before I fucking died would be Catman beating me to it. He’d never have or hurt Amy again.
“You can’t have her,” I said. There were eight other guys in the room but all of a sudden, it was just Catman and me. “You can kill me where I stand, but you’ll never fucking touch her again.”
“Who, Colt?” Lonnie asked the question. Mother fuck. These guys didn’t know. They still believed the line of bullshit Catman had been feeding them. For once, I wished I did still have those police photos in front of me. They needed to see. They needed to know, just like Kellan did.
“Mouse,” I said. She was Amy to me, but she would always be Duke’s Mouse to the club. They needed to remember that. “He fucking half beat her to death. Kicked her in the head until her ear just about came off. Did you know that? He’s been telling you for years that she fucked around on him. Bought the cops so she couldn’t get him thrown in jail for assault. Is that what this club is now? You forgot what we’re about? What we came from?”
“Shut your mouth,” Catman said. The mention of Amy changed the steely look in his eyes. For the first time, he seemed rattled. It might be my only chance.
“She spent almost a week in the hospital. Intensive care at first. Did any of you go and see her? She’s family. She was owed protection. She counted on all of you, and you threw her out.”
Tommy had a hand on Catman’s shoulder. He whispered something under his breath. I read his lips, but no one else seemed to. “Stick to the plan.” Catman gave him a quick look then turned his fucking cat eye back to me.
“This has nothing to do with Mouse Wyler,” Sully said. “Explain yourself, Colt. This is almost fifty grand in this bag. That’s a fucking year’s salary for one of us. How did it get in your bag? Did you need a loan? This can’t be as bad as we’re all thinking, right? We know each other from way back, man. Explain yourself.”
“It’s there because Catman wanted it there,” I answered. “You can all believe what you want to believe, but he and I know the truth. He wants to keep all of you down. Keep Lincolnshire down. Let you turn into the worst kind of scum just like him. You prey on the people of this town. You didn’t stand up to protect one of your own when she needed you. You’ve got a little girl too, Mac, don’t you? You expect that this club will look out for her after you’re long gone. That’s who we are. As long as he keeps lining your pockets, you’ll never question a damn thing he says. It’s over, Catman. Amy doesn’t want you. She survived you.”
“You say that little cunt’s name in this room one more time, I’m gonna drop you where you stand.”
My fingers twitched at my side. My gun burned against my back. One shot. I’d face the blast of at least a half-dozen bullets after that, but at least I knew mine would find its mark.
“You’re done, Colt,” Catman said. I was so focused on beating Catman to the draw, I let my attention drop for just a second at what was happening next to me. E.J., Joker, and Lonnie came at me from both sides. I fought like hell. I caught E.J. across the mouth, and he went down. Joker and Lonnie got me by the arms. I dropped to a knee and almost broke loose. Then Sully and Mac joined in and five at once was more than even I could manage.
I think it was Sully’s knee that drove into my back. The side of my face smashed into the ground as someone pulled my gun out of my waistband. My field of vision filled with Catman’s steel-tipped boots.
He leaned down and brought his face so close to mine I could smell the Philly Cheesteak on his breath. He whispered low and close to my ear, making sure I was the only one who could hear.
“She’s mine, Colt,” he said. “And now I’m going to take her back.”
I said a silent prayer that I had Amy stashed somewhere safe. Then Catman took away that one sliver of hope I had left. He leaned even closer. “And not even your brother can keep her from me.”
“Urrrggh!” I tried to yell, but they had my face smashed too close to the ground. I fought for my life. More than my life, I fought for Amy’s, because I knew that look in Catman’s eyes. I prayed to God and Amy to forgive me for failing her.
Then I couldn’t do anything but watch Catman’s steel-tipped boot as he drew it back and smashed it into the side of my head. Then the world went dark and cold.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Amy
I reached for Colt when I woke up. For an instant, I forgot where I was. Drawing the covers up to my chin, I felt a sudden chill in the space where Colt had been. It was dark in Jase’s basement. The glass block windows didn’t let in very much light. I had no idea what time it even was. Dinner? My stomach growled.
Stretching, I pulled the covers off and called out to Colt. When he didn’t answer, I felt the first cold stab of fear. He hadn’t said goodbye. We’d spent the morning fucking away the tension of knowing what had to happen with Roy. He couldn’t tell me the details, and I couldn’t ask. So now, I was just left alone with the fear of not knowing.
There was a soft knock on the basement door. “Amy?” Jase called out. “You decent?”
For a second, I didn’t remember if I was. I reached out and slid on my jeans and one of Colt’s t-shirts over my head. “Yeah,” I answered. While Jase came down the stairs, I busied myself folding the hide-a-bed back into the sofa. Jase was at my side and started helping me right the couch cushions.
“Sorry about all of this,” he said. “I know you want to get back to your place and your own routine.”
“No. It’s okay. You’ve been sweet. It’s me who’s putting you out. Thank you for that.” Once we’d put the basement more or less back to the condition Colt and I found it, Jase straightened and put his hands on his hips.
An awkward silence fell between us. We hadn’t talked about Colt and the club without Colt being here. We both knew exactly what might be going on but didn’t know how to address the elephant in the room.
Jase broke the silence first. “Come on. You’ve got to eat. I made some fried chicken earlier today. Help me finish it off.”
My traitorous stomach growled, and both of us laughed. It was an odd ice breaker, but it worked. Instantly, I felt at ease with Jase again. He made a gentlemanly gesture toward the stairs and followed me up them.
I sat at Jase’s kitchen table while he plated some chicken and mashed potatoes for both of us and set mine in front of me. I leaned down and inhaled the heavenly sent.
“You are a man of many talents, Jason Reddick. You must have had a hell of a mother.”
Jase sat down across from me. He smiled at the mention of his mother, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I said just before diving into a succulent drumstick. “Colt told me she passed away a while back. A drunk driver.”
He nodded while tearing off a piece of breading from a large chicken breast and popping it in his mouth. “Oh, he was a drunk all right. Told her for twenty years to stop getting in the car with him.”
“Oh.” I narrowed my eyes as understanding dawned on me. “Oh! My God, I didn’t realize your dad was involved.”
Jase nodded. “It was a long time ago. I guess we’ve all had our family history to deal with, haven’t we?”
I gave him a weak smile. It was still painful for me to talk about my father as I’m sure it was for him with his. I waved my drumstick in his direction and nodded. Touché.
“I knew your dad,” Jase said. “I always thought Duke was a good guy. Things were sure a lot different in this town when he and Ace McCann were running things. There was a balance that seemed to work for everybody. They knew to keep the bad stuff out of the city limits. There was an understanding between . . .”
He faltered, but I got it. The Great Wolves were the crim
inal element in this town even in my father’s time, but they worked with the cops somehow, not against them. Of course, Jase would be nostalgic for those times just like I was.
“He thinks he can change it,” I said, tearing off another piece of breading. “Colt says the same thing happened in Green Bluff before Sly Cullinan took over.”
I chanced a look at Jase. He stared off. Then he cast his eyes downward. My heart flipped. He looked so much like Colt. Because of it, I could read his expression and know just what he was thinking too. He didn’t think there would be a good end to this.
“Things have been like this for a really long time, Amy,” he finally said as he looked up at me. “You’re the last person I need to tell that to. I don’t know if those guys know how to even live without the easy money they’ve had. I just don’t know.”
I reached across the table and put my hand on his forearm. “I think if anyone has a chance of turning things around, it’s Colt. Don’t you?”
Jase finally smiled for real as he rested his hand on the top of mine. “You know, it might just be that I can’t hold my fried chicken, but he’s in love with you. My brother. You ready for that?”
My pulse pounded in my ears. Colt hadn’t said those words to me. I’d thought of them myself. But it was still so new. I was afraid to hold on too tightly. Like it was some bubble I might burst.
“I mean it,” Jase said. “He’s been gone a long time, but I know my brother. He loves you. He’s in this for the big one. Are you?”
I smiled. For all their differences, it warmed my heart to know that Colt’s brother still wanted to protect him.
“There’s . . . it’s hard for me to . . . Ugh. Yes. I think I might be in love with him too. Crazy as that might seem. We’ve only known each other a few weeks.”
“Yeah, that’s Colt,” Jase laughed. “He’s always moved fast. And he’s always known a good thing when he sees one.”
Just then, Jase’s phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. He shot me a quick wink and reached over to get it. As he read the text, his brow furrowed. Again, a shudder went through me at how like Colt he really was. He texted back and set the phone down before he turned his attention back to me. I held my breath as he clued me in.
“That was Colt. He says he’s got good news. He wants us to meet him at The Shires.”
I exhaled. My hands trembled as I set down the drumstick I’d been picking at. I stood and tried to wring my shaking hands out. I paced back and forth through Jase’s small kitchen.
“He said it was good news?”
Jase slid his phone across the table to me. I read the text from Colt. Tell Mouse it’s good news. Meet me at The Shires in half an hour.
“You gonna be okay?” Jase asked.
I nodded. I felt like I had to remind myself to keep breathing in and out. I paced the kitchen some more. “Yeah. Just yeah. I’ll feel a lot better when I see Colt face to face. It’s just . . . I know Roy, Jase.”
He nodded; his expression turned grim. “Yeah. Me too. Tell you what. Let me make a call and have whoever’s on patrol out there tonight drive by and make sure everything looks good. Then we’ll go together.”
I nodded. “Yeah. That’s a good idea.”
Jase was already dialing. Within a few minutes, he had confirmation that nothing out of the ordinary was happening at The Shires. Colt’s Harley was parked outside. My heart started to beat at its normal rhythm again.
“Grab your coat,” Jase said. I did.
A few minutes later, I climbed into the cab of Jase’s red pickup truck. My heart had started to hammer again. I just wanted to see Colt and know that he was safe. Jase did too. He reached across the seat and took my hand in his, giving it a squeeze. Then he put the truck in gear, and we headed out.
***
It was after nine o’clock when we pulled into the parking lot of The Shires. My nerves had given way to idle chatter. “God. I don’t think I’ve been in this place in years. Not since before my dad passed. I see Ricky still hasn’t fixed the ‘N’ in the open sign.”
Jase laughed as he shut off the engine and pocketed his keys. He’d parked in the space next to Colt’s Harley and again my heart tripped at seeing it. He was here. It had only been a few hours, but we were in that giddy place where even brief separations made me miss him. Jase came around and opened the door for me. I apologized. I hadn’t been waiting for him to do that. Instead, I kept staring at Colt’s bike.
I stepped out of the cab and walked over to it. I ran my hand across the leather seat. I cocked my head. The bike was parked at an odd angle, across the painted yellow divider into the other space beside it. So it was essentially taking up two spaces.
I looked up; Jase held the door open for me, and I could hear laughter coming from inside the bar. I looked back at the angle of Colt’s bike, and fear skittered across my neck like a spider’s legs. Colt didn’t park like this. I remembered the other day at the coffee shop when he’d noticed some other car parked in two spaces and he’d called it an asshole move.
“Jase, hang on a minute,” I called out.
He wasn’t looking at me. He was looking inside the bar, and all the color had drained from his face. He turned back to me. “Amy, run!” I saw him reach for his holstered gun. Then I saw a cloud of red explode from his chest, and a bullet cracked in the evening air.
I took a step back, turning. Two hands came out of nowhere and grabbed me by the shoulders, jerking me around.
“Glad you could join us, Mouse.” I turned and stared straight into Roy’s cat eyes.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Colt
Scrape. Grunt. Thud. Scrape. Grunt. Thud. I had ears still. That was something. Fingers too. But when I tried to move my arms, it felt like they were weighted down with a ton of lead. I shivered from the cold, and just that small movement sent a wall of pain smacking straight into the side of my head. Or what was left of it.
I tried to lift my head. That was my first mistake. Bile roiled in my belly, and I heaved to the side, spilling the contents of my stomach. This sent a fresh wave of agony all down my left side.
I opened my eyes. That was my second mistake. The world was cold, black, and covered in dirt. I was covered in dirt.
Scrape. Grunt. Thud.
I turned my head again just in time to get hit with a shower of wet earth. Despite the shooting pain in my shoulder, I reached out to try and get my bearings. There was no floor. No walls except for dirt as high as my fucked-up eyes could see.
My body took over, and I heaved myself onto my back and looked up. That was probably my third mistake. The moon and stars hung high above me as another shovelful of dirt landed right on my chest.
As experiences go, I don’t fucking recommend waking up to find out you’re being buried alive. I tried to sit up, but my legs seemed stuck in wet cement. Not cement. Mud. The fuckers were burying me in a wet, shallow grave.
I tried to cry out, but my throat was closed and dry. Another shovelful landed on my right knee. I reached behind me. My gun was gone. Of course it was. Even if I had it, what was I going to do, shoot my way out of here?
“Goddammit!” Somehow, I managed to make some noise. I brought my hand up and shielded my face as another shovelful came down, slamming into my already aching shoulder.
Yeah. This was bad. This was worse than bad. I thought of Amy. No matter what happened to me. She was the only thing that mattered. Pain stabbed through my heart that had nothing to do with my physical injuries. And those weren’t fatal. Yeah. The bastard had bashed my face in pretty good and my nose was probably broken. I had a couple smashed ribs too. It was nothing I couldn’t walk away from. I think that must have been Catman’s idea too. Toss me in the ground and have me drown in dirt. It’s what I’d do to him if given the chance.
I couldn’t see who was up there. Sully maybe. The next shovelful seemed attached to a bear of an arm. He had help though. Lonnie? I heard his cough cut through the air. Bastard had asthma, and I didn’t
suppose grave digging in the middle of the night helped that much. I hoped he fucking choked to death.
I weighed my options. I could try and claw my way out of here before they finished. The ground was slick like quicksand. Also, if they saw me moving what was to stop them from drawing down and shooting me like a fucking fish in a barrel? The only way out of this was letting them finish and hoping I could dig my way out before I suffocated. Yeah. I was pretty sure that only worked in zombie movies.
Well, fuck that. I wasn’t going to lie here and wait to die. I pulled myself up into a sitting position and looked for something to use as a weapon. A few rocks was the best I could do. Mother fuck, I was fucked.
Something happened then. I heard voices. Swearing. The shovels of dirt stopped raining down. I scrambled to free my legs from the muck. Maybe if I were on my feet, I could get high enough to grab one of the fuckers by the ankles and drag him down with me.
I had made it up to my knees before I heard the first gunshot. It echoed through the open field. I’d already guessed where we were. Denby’s farm off Dunham highway. Nobody around for miles.
I got to my feet and clawed at the ground, trying to find something, anything, to hang on to. The second gunshot was closer. I heard a gurgling sound and something thudded to the ground. What the ever-loving fuck?
My fingers closed around a thin tree root. It wasn’t much, but dead men can’t be choosers. I ignored the splitting pain in my shoulder and tried to haul myself up. The root tore straight out of the ground though, and I slid back down to the bottom.
I heard shouting. Voices getting closer. I was done for. Whatever was going on up there could be good, could be bad. But I was powerless to do anything about it. When I reached up to try and find another tree root, a hand closed around my wrist.
