Chaos: A Reapers MC Boxset

by Elizabeth Knox

  “The next road we come up to you wanna take a left,” Fist says and I follow his direction, turning down the road. Zane and Blackjack are in their truck behind us twenty feet or so. “Cut the lights. Boomer said the cabin is all the way down this road. I don’t want these fuckers to see us coming.” The sun is starting to rise a good bit at this point, meaning our cover is going to be blown one way or another.

  The air thickens as we venture closer, knowing all this shit with the Bears will soon come to a close. This has been years in the making. Fist and I both take notice that all the lights are on inside the house. I pull the truck over to the side behind some thick pine trees and we both get out slowly, parked maybe a couple hundred feet away. Zane does the same thing and both he and Blackjack walk up to us. “What’s the game plan here?” Blackjack asks Fist, who chuckles lowly.

  “You shouldn’t be askin’ me that, son. Ask your Prez.”

  “We’ll go in through the front with guns drawn, mags loaded. We’re not fucking around here. I don’t know about y’all but I’m pretty sick of the Bears givin’ us trouble.”

  “Damn straight,” Fist hisses out while Blackjack and I grumble in agreement.

  “Follow me,” Zane orders out. I slip my gun from my holster, raise it and follow him. Blackjack is behind me and Fist is behind him. My MARSOC training comes in handy here acting as a unit. Zane places his hand on the front door and walks inside, firing off a shot before I’m even in the door. I turn, covering Zane’s back and spot Rascal, Grizzly’s second in command and pull my trigger. Like a movie playing in slow motion I watch the bullet enter his chest, knock his shoulder back and visibly see the blood coating his white shirt. Within a moment, he’s fallen to the floor and is no longer an issue. Two down. I really fucking wish we knew how many people were in this fucking place.

  “Boomer tell you how many were here?” I call back to Fist.

  “He said four.” Fist replies.

  A deep gut feeling hits me. There’s something wrong here. I don’t know what the fuck it is, but I sense it. “Keep your eyes open,” I state, scanning over the area.

  The house has two stories and I hear stomping coming from above us. Instead of moving, I’ll wait for the idiot to come barreling down the stairs and cap him. Much to my surprise, there are two men who I don’t recognize coming straight toward us. Blackjack and I fire our guns and watch as their struggling bodies hit the ground. They’re Bears, which means they deserve no mercy. Instead we’ll let them bleed out onto the filthy floor.

  “Where is Grizzly?” Fist roars, looking to the group of us.

  “Boomer told you there were four men here?” I question. Grizzly may be a sick fuck but he’d never leave his men behind.

  “It’s what Boomer said.” He hisses back.

  “He can’t be far,” Blackjack interjects, walking up the stairs. Zane follows him.

  I call up to them as they’re on the landing with the two men, “We’ll clear this level.”

  “Alright. You two check out the basement as well. I saw a light on down there. After we’re done clearing the upstairs we’ll go around the property and look for tracks.”

  Nodding, we go our separate ways.

  Chapter Nine

  May God have mercy on my enemies, ‘cause I won’t

  ~ Unknown

  Bull

  The cabin is nothing fancy. Cheap linoleum floor is spanned across the space, with the type of walls you’d see in a trailer. It’s no wonder this place has been abandoned. I contemplate how the Bears had even been living here because there’s hardly one piece of furniture in the entire first floor. A tiny wooden table sits off the kitchen, shoved against the wall with three rickety chairs.

  The doors to the cabinets in the kitchen are hanging off the hinges and I swear I saw some mouse crap sitting on the counter. I don’t know how people live in conditions such as this. Disgusting comes nowhere near to accurately describing it.

  “This door leads downstairs,” Fist says from behind me, so I turn and walk over to him. He pulls a cord which turns on a single light bulb in the middle of the stairwell and it reveals another door to us.

  “Why would they need two doors?” I ask, looking to him.

  “Usually people only need two doors if they’re hidin’ somethin’.”

  With that Fist goes down and I follow him with my gun drawn, ready to fire at anything coming our way. He puts a hand on the door and turns the knob, revealing another single light on in the basement. I can’t see past the old man, but his words cause a chill to run over my entire body.

  “Holy hell. What have they done?” He steps to the side and a woman is hanging mid-air with chains wrapped around her wrists. She seems to have red hair, but blood is coating her body so it makes me wonder if she’s actually a redhead or if it’s just her blood. Her skin is coated with dirt, making me think about how long she’s been here. Even under the grime I can see her skin puffing out like she’s swollen. Not only that, but there are hints of purple and blue across her entire body from her neck down to her ankles.

  “Is that her eye?” Fist’s question pulls me out of my daze so I look in the direction he’s pointing. Yep, there is something round over there. Not like I want to go up and look at it. Twisted as it may be, that’s crossing the line.

  I approach her, unable to tell if she’s still breathing. “Jesus Christ. What did they do to you?” I whisper it out, scanning over her body. Anyone who laid their eyes on her could see she’s malnourished, but the swollen parts on her confuse me. Based on the pigmentation of her skin I’d say they beat her with something.

  “Found some chain cutters,” Fist states, positioning them above her hands he puts them around one chain and pushes the tool together. Her right-hand drops and her body slumps along with it. I wrap my arms around her body, holding her tightly against my own to make sure she doesn’t fall and further injure herself. Fist goes to the other chain and cuts it, causing her small weight to rely fully on me.

  I kneel and put this woman against the concrete. Now I’m in a sweatshirt, full winter coat and my cut. She’s been exposed to every element possible, freezing and withering away down here. “This is the girl, isn’t it?”

  Fist looks at her, “I’d assume so.”

  “God dammit. I wish we would’ve gotten here earlier.” I confess, somehow knowing she couldn’t have been this far off too long ago. I slip my cut off with my winter coat and pull her body to me. Placing her left arm through the sleeve of my cut, Fist whistles.

  Glancing back to him, I cock a brow. “Got somethin’ to say, old man?”

  “You’ve been in this lifestyle long enough to know what you’re doin’ right now.” Fist replies.

  Taking in a breath, I nod. “Yes, I do.” I don’t care about what it means. I care about doing what is right and that just happens to be covering this woman up with as much warmth as possible. I slide her arms into my cut and take off my sweatshirt, leaving me in a t-shirt. Continuing to dress her I slide her arms into the sleeves of my sweatshirt and zip it up, then go for my winter coat and do the same thing.

  There’s no way I’d let her be exposed to the elements any more than she has been already. She takes in a deep, gurgled breath and it evokes a type of anger I’ve never felt before. I’m not angry at the girl, but at the Bears for putting her through this, for endlessly torturing her for no god damned reason. For some reason all I want to do is guard her, tuck her under my shoulder and protect her with everything I have.

  “What’s her name again?” I ask Fist while I rake my eyes over her soft features.

  “Alexa. That’s what Agent Williams told us.”

  “Did she say why they had her?” I don’t need to know this information, but a primal part of me is demanding answers.

  “All she said was that this girl is a key witness in a series of murders.”

  “She saw something she shouldn’t have.” I’m guessing. I don’t really know. The Bears have never needed a reason t
o harm a woman from what we all know. Hell, look at what they did to Ivy. Fuckin’ bastards.

  Footsteps come down the stairs and I hear Zane speak up, “The property is clear. Fuck, what happened to her?”

  “What do you mean it’s clear? Where is Grizzly?” His father hisses, obviously frustrated. Hell, if it makes him feel better I’m pissed too.

  “Grizzly is what happened,” I retort back, pulling Alexa up into my arms. “Someone needs to call the Doc. Blackjack, will you be able to help?”

  Instantly he nods, “You know I’ll help in whatever way I can. I don’t think travelling with her is the smartest idea, though. I’d highly suggest against it.”

  I turn my attention over to Zane, “With your approval I’d like to get a hotel room in town for a couple of days and have Blackjack stay with me.”

  Zane raises a brow, “What about her medical attention?”

  “Give me Boomer’s number and I’ll see what sort of connection he has down here. Before we can bring her up to Billings I need to make sure she’s okay for the ride. Is it alright with you or not?”

  “Yeah, fine. Do whatever you want. Just stay safe and keep me updated. We’ve been through this enough and we know this is only the calm before the storm.” Zane says.

  Shaking my head, “No, fuck that. This isn’t the calm before the storm. It’s hunting season for the Reapers. You hear me? We aren’t backing down this time. We’ll be on the road until one of us finds Grizzly, pulls him out of his fucking den and makes him pay for everything he’s done to our club. I’m tired of him getting away with all this shit. More than that, I’m pissed he keeps harming people who don’t deserve it. He put Harry in Ashley’s life to harm her and the club. He had Roach act as a spy to hurt the club. He cut his kid up like a damn jack-o-lantern and now he’s hurt this girl. When will enough be enough? We need to put the rabid animal down!” I roar, walking past my Prez and brothers, heading out to the truck.

  I’m done with this shit. We’re not fucking around anymore. Not if I have anything to do with it.

  Chapter Ten

  Clever as the Devil, twice as pretty

  ~Unknown

  Alexa/Lola

  “Did they ask you about Alexa?” A man’s voice asks. My eyes are closed and I’m hurting more than I ever thought possible. Part of me wants to die. I never thought I’d ever see the day when I would say that, but I do. Even breathing is excruciating.

  “No, I asked for a room near the back away from others. Told them I had some work to get done.” Another man responds.

  I don’t recognize either of the voices but can’t help wondering who they belong to. Slowly I open the only eye I have left and see I’m now in a dingy old motel room. The crappy art on the wall I’m facing is a sure sign I’m right. Well, that and the sink being on the outside of the bathroom.

  One of the men walks toward the sink and looks at himself in the mirror. He seems to be in his late thirties if I had to put a guess on it. He has long, thick black hair which appears to be combed back with pieces of gray going through it. He kind of has one of those bad boy looks. You know, the type of look every normal mother warned her teenage daughter to stay away from in high school.

  The man in the mirror speaks as he picks up the comb and takes it through his hair, “You know that’s always code for sex, right? Hell, the lady at the front desk must think you’re having some sort of sex fest.” There’s something about his voice which makes me want to trust him. I’m obviously out of my damn mind for wanting to give my trust to someone I don’t even know. But these aren’t the Bears. I can tell because the handsome salt and peppered man has a Reaper on the back of his leather vest.

  Wait.

  I’ve seen this symbol before. Now where did I see it? If only I could remember. “Blackjack,” the other voice responds in a grumbled form of laughter.

  I keep my eye focused on the design and it hits me all at once. These men must be from the other side. The ones who were stirring up shit for the Bears when they moved me from the shed. Shoot, I’ll be damned. Here’s to hoping that old saying ‘the enemy of your enemy is your friend’ is true in this case.

  Since I’m up close this time, I can make out above their design it says ‘Reapers’ and below it says ‘Montana’. “How’re you feelin’?” I don’t realize I’m being asked the question until I see this Blackjack’s eyes focused on me in the mirror. He waits a moment before continuing, “You went through it pretty bad, but I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that. You’re probably wondering who we are and where in the hell you are. I’ll clear it up for you pretty quick. We’re friends, we’re not gonna harm you and we’ve got a doc on the way. Now that you’re up I wanna get some anti-inflammatories in you and ice on where you’re swelling up. Not to mention, I think you’d kill for a good meal, right?”

  I’m not sure if I’m dreaming, or if this is some sort of elaborate trick. This could be a dream. I might still be hanging from those dreadful chains in that freezing basement, only able to escape through my mind.

  Blackjack turns to face me, cocking his head to the side just a bit, almost implying he’s waiting for me to speak. “Bet you think this is some sort of dream or somethin’. I can assure you it isn’t.”

  “You a m-mind reader?” I ask with a crackled voice. I sound like I’ve been a chain smoker for thirty years, but it’s only from the lack of water.

  He chuckles, shaking his head. “No, but I’m familiar with women in situations like yours. My wife came from something similar, but her ex-husband was beating on her. I think when she finally got to safety she thought it was all a dream.”

  “How do I know you’re a friend?” I ask, needing to hear some sort of decent answer. If I don’t, I’ll have to figure out another way to get out. Now I’m not dumb. I know my body is at its weakest point, but if I don’t feel comfortable I’ll get the hell out of here as soon as possible.

  Cocking a brow, the man chuckles again. “Sweetheart, if we weren’t your friends, you wouldn’t be breathin’ right now.”

  I nod, appreciating his bluntness. Hell, even nodding hurts. I feel like I’ve gotten run over by a small car dozens of times.

  Blackjack passes me and I hear the unmistakable sound of pills being poured out. The popping sound of the lid being put back on the bottle greets me and within a moment he’s in front of me again. He opens a bottle of water for me, hands me one pill and then hands me the next, even taking the time to show me what he’s given me. They are truly anti-inflammatories. I take the two of them, drinking a decent bit of water with it. God, it feels so good to coat my throat with liquid. My lips have been cracking over the past several weeks. They’re as dry as the desert.

  After I’m done with my water I realize I’m not naked. A combination of fur and leather coats my skin. A jacket comes down to right above my knees and I ponder who these clothes belong to. “Bull thought you were a bit too cold, so he covered you up. Hope you don’t mind.”

  “No, not at all. Thank you. I appreciate the . . . chivalry.” I say it and realize how stupid it sounds, but before I can say something else I hear a deep laugh from behind me. Another man comes into view but he’s so much different than Blackjack. He has a small amount of hair on his head, where his thick black beard and mustache makes him look like a Viking. He’s a huge guy, loaded with muscle and every aspect and feature tells me he’s the type of man who demands order and dominance. Now I notice he’s only wearing a black t-shirt. Bull literally took the clothes off his back and gave them to me— a complete stranger.

  “I’ve been called a lot of things in my life, but never has it been chivalrous.”

  “Uh, yeah. That came out wrong. I meant to say something else.” I awkwardly state.

  “Oh, so now you’re taking away the compliment you just gave me?” Bull teases.

  Blackjack puts his hand up. “Alright, let the woman rest. How about you do us both a favor and go get her some food from that restaurant across the street? I’m su
re you’re starved, right Alexa? Plus, we have to wait for that nurse practitioner to get here and check her out.”

  “Sure. What do you want darlin’?” Bull asks with a purr in his tone.

  “I’d love a bacon cheeseburger.” My stomach growls as the thought runs through my mind.

  “You got it. I’ll be back in a bit.” Bull walks out of my view and I’m left here with Blackjack.

  Chapter Eleven

  Anger was better than tears, better than grief, better than guilt

  ~ Unknown

  Alexa/Lola

  “You have a nurse practitioner coming here?” I ask Blackjack.

  He sits down on the makeshift desk across from the bed. “Yeah. I was a medic in the Army but I always like to have someone more equipped to double check me. I think you’ll be alright after a bit of rest. You’ll need some antibiotic cream if I’m correct but your eye should heal. You do have a cut about two inches long under your eye but when you were asleep I examined you. He cut your lid but didn’t appear to go past where your eye was.

  I breathe in slowly finally accepting I’ve lost my eye. It is so weird to only see half of what you could before. I find myself having to turn my head to see the other part of the room. Putting my arms underneath me I sit up and finish off the bottle of water.

  “Whoa, slow down. You don’t want to overdo it.”

  I roll my eye, “Tell me that when you’re the one who’s barely had anything to eat or drink.”

  “Geeze, point made firecracker.” Blackjack cackles.