Sons of War MC

by Jane Slate

  Perfect fucking timing.

  “Tail him,” Nash instructed.

  But Landon didn’t need to be told.

  He gunned down on the gas and pulled up after Joaquín, following him in close pursuit. Joaquín started to sense that he was being followed and peeled down an alleyway in an attempt to lose them.

  There was no way Landon was letting that happen. He nodded for Nash to slide open the backdoor and pulled up alongside Joaquín.

  “Grab him,” he said with a nod, keeping speed as they veered onto a narrow bridge.

  “You crazy motherfucker!” Joaquín spat out.

  He pulled his Berretta from its holster and began to fire shots at the van, but they bounced and didn’t make impact. He picked up speed going nearly eighty in a fifty zone but Landon was just as quick. He tailed Joaquín through deserted streets and back alleys, burning rubber. All the while, Joaquín continued squeezing off shots and missing target. He went to round a sharp corner and Landon followed.

  In one flawless move, Kade jumped into the backseat and with Nash’s help, they heaved Joaquín off of his bike by his cut and brought him tumbling into the backseat.

  His bike lost control and took a sharp dive off the bridge and into the lake. Nash and Kade clapped hands and held Joaquín down as a series of expletives left his mouth.

  “Keep driving,” Nash instructed, grabbing for a thick piece of rope to tie Joaquín’s hands with while Kade kept him in line.

  They moved quickly and stuffed a gag in his throat so he couldn’t make a sound. Now he was shitting himself. Figuratively, not literally. Landon looked back and snickered at the look of fear in his eyes. He parked the van in a desolate looking industrial site and climbed in the back, cracking his neck.

  “You’re call,” Nash said to Landon with a nod, stepping back out of the way.

  Kade did the same.

  Landon stared Joaquín down and bent to snatch the gag from his mouth.

  “You can scream but that’s only going to make your situation worse,” he reasoned, giving him a fair warning.

  He removed his .45 from its holster and pressed it against Joaquín’s temple as he began to sweat bullets.

  “Clear?”

  A leery smile crossed Joaquín’s face. He spit, slowly nodding. Nash and Kade watched on in silence.

  “What’s this about?” Joaquín questioned.

  Landon laughed like he had heard a joke and started to turn around, only to deliver another sharp punch to Joaquín’s gut.

  “What the fuck do you think?” he spat, grabbing him by the throat.

  “Did you really think you were just going to get off Scott free after what you did to my old lady?”

  “Never mind the fact that you got her fuckin’ hooked on every drug imaginable.”

  Joaquín wiggled in his grip.

  “Ay,” he said, keeping his voice low. “I didn’t fuckin’ know that whore was your old lady. Last I checked she was married, right? To some gringo who blew his brains out?”

  He laughed, slapping his knee.

  Landon hit him again. This time, a well angled uppercut that sent blood pouring from his nostrils.

  “That gringo was our brother,” Kade spoke up.

  Joaquín shook his head and laughed through blood and mucus.

  “And that whore is my old lady,” Landon said even louder.

  He kicked Joaquín in the stomach with the toe of his boot and he kneeled over and coughed.

  “Hold on just a fuckin’ minute,” he begged.

  Landon looked over and Nash.

  “When you were beating on my old lady, did she beg too?” he questioned Joaquín.

  There was enough talking.

  Landon nodded at Nash and he swung open the door. Kade hopped out and Landon heaved Joaquín up by the shoulders and pushed him into the sand. He squatted in front of him and grabbed him by the cut.

  Joaquín stared up at him, suddenly afraid for his life.

  “Look homes, I’m sorry,” he sputtered. “Let’s just end this, alright? We’ll go our separate ways, plain and simple.”

  He shook and sputtered, continuing with his innocence.

  Landon had seen enough. He shook his head and looked over at Kade. He nudged Nash, who handed him an unmarked glock, which he then handed over to Landon before stepping back and crossing his tattooed arms over his chest.

  Third rule in the SOW manifesto?

  You never make kills with your own weapons.

  Joaquín’s eyes were wide. He tried to wiggle away in the sand, his arms still tied securely behind his back.

  Nash and Kade laughed.

  “Say Lan,” Kade called out. “I think this motherfucker wants to die looking pathetic. Look at him. He’s pissing himself.”

  It was true. A wet patched covered the crotch of Joaquín’s ratty jeans. Landon snickered and brought his thumb to the trigger.

  A single shot rang out around them. For a brief moment, Landon was brought back to Pakistan.

  “Good work brother,” Nash interrupted, taking a step forward to inspect the kill.

  The bullet had went clean through the center of Joaquín’s skull. The sand was covered with chunks of red and purple. Landon held his breath and looked away, dropping the gun.

  He tried to reconcile with himself. It was the first time he had ever deliberately taken a man’s life. In the past, his kills had earned him badges of honor. He had killed to protect his country and the lives of himself and his brothers. But this was something else entirely.

  This was vengeance.

  “You always were a good shot.”

  With a brief laugh, Nash clapped Landon on the shoulder and ruffled his hair. Meanwhile, Kade took the gun and wiped Landon’s prints off of it with his bandana before placing it in Joaquín’s limp hand.

  “It’s as simple as that,” he said with a grin. “The way I see it, the motherfucker came out here and did himself off. Right Nash?”

  Nash nodded and lit a smoke.

  “The cops ain’t going to investigate his death either, I’ll tell you that much,” he added.

  “Hell, the way I see it, we did them a favor.”

  Landon nodded and pulled his shit together, standing up straighter as a muscle twitched in his jaw. He took one more long look at the dead Columbian before turning and following Nash and Kade back to the van. They peeled out of the parking lot towards home.

  Grace’s smiling face flashed through Landon’s conscious.

  Retribution had been made.

  Epilogue

  Grace stepped out of Landon’s truck and stretched her legs, working out the kinks in her neck. She approached the SOW clubhouse and nodded at the latest recruit, a polite kid named Evans. He wore a prospect patch on his cut and smiled at Grace, reaching forward to open the door for her.

  “Thanks Ev,” she said with a nod.

  She walked inside and slugged off her jacket, hanging it over an empty bar chair. Landon and Nash were midway through a game of pool and Richie was nursing a beer and adding his usual off topic commentary. Grace leaned against the bar and waited for Landon to notice her presence.

  “Hey baby,” he finally noted, pressing a wet kiss against her cheek.

  He set down his pool cue and embraced Grace. Their lips met and their tongues danced.

  “Aw get a room you two!” Kade called from across the room.

  He turned his attention back to the pretty blonde in his lap. Grace looked over at her before meeting eyes with Maria. They shared a knowing glare and Grace snickered.

  Whoever Kade’s newest girl was, she couldn’t have been much older than eighteen.

  He always did have a thing for jailbait.

  “What’s wrong Kade?” Landon called out jokingly.

  He took a seat at the bar and cracked a beer, pulling Grace into his lap.

  “You jealous?”

  Kade laughed and gave him the finger. Landon brought his lips against Grace’s neck and she sighed, relax
ing against him. Richie stared at them, his mouth agape.

  “Rich,” Landon said without looking at him.

  “Give it a rest man. You’re practically burning holes into the side of my face.”

  Grace laughed.

  Richie turned bright red and muttered an apology before turning his attention back to the TV in front of him. Nash set down his pool cue and took a seat beside them at the bar, pulling Maria into his lap.

  “Say,” he said, turning to look at Grace. He gave her a playful nudge and met eyes with Maria. “We’ve been wondering...are you gonna ever marry this fool?”

  Nash reached out and ruffled Landon’s hair.

  Grace blushed and tore her eyes from Nash’s. He was referring to Landon’s marriage proposal from a few months prior.

  Grace had yet to give him an answer.

  “Really though,” Nash continued, cracking a beer.

  “What’s the hold up? You got a good man here girly.”

  Landon remained quiet. Grace smiled a sheepish smile and looked down at the faded band on her ring finger.

  The fact that her first marriage hadn’t went well was the only thing holding her back.

  But Landon wasn’t Miller.

  “You’re right,” she finally whispered, looking from Nash and Maria to Landon.

  Richie and Kade remained distracted.

  “I think I’m ready.”

  Two Years Later

  The smell of bacon popping and eggs cooking awoke Grace from her slumber, accompanied by a swift kick to her abdomen. With a groan, she threw her legs over the side of the bed.

  “Landon?” she called out, standing up and pulling on her robe.

  He was in the kitchen of the two-story brick home they had purchased together shortly after they had gotten married. The soft hum of Christmas music played from a small radio that hung above the oven. Landon sang along with the kids, his voice deep and husky.

  Grace smiled to herself and entered the dimly lit kitchen. The string of lights that hung over the Christmas tree were the only source of light in the room. Outside, a blizzard had begun.

  It was the ideal weather for Christmas morning.

  Landon stood shirtless in front of the stove. He wore one of Grace’s frilly pink aprons over his chest. His slender hips shook from side to side as he danced along to the music. Grace giggled and reached down to ruffle her children’s hair. They ate their breakfast in excitement, eager to unwrap the pile of presents beneath their Christmas tree.

  “Well if it ain’t sleeping beauty,” Landon called out, turning to face his wife.

  He set down the spatula in his hands and embraced Grace. She angled her baby bump towards him and he slid his hands down her body, resting them on her waist.

  She was five months pregnant. By summer, Landon would be a father. A week prior, Grace had learned the sex but she had yet to share the news with him.

  It was his Christmas present.

  “How did you sleep beautiful?” Landon questioned, placing a wet kiss against his wife’s forehead.

  “Good,” Grace replied with a smile, taking a seat at the table between her daughters.

  Henry sat across from her, too preoccupied by his comic book to notice his mother’s presence.

  He looked so much like Miller but Grace was pleased by the fact that he had picked up Landon’s tendencies instead.

  He had accepted all of her children as his own a long time ago.

  “Can I help?” Grace asked her husband, resting her hands on top of her stomach as the baby kicked once more.

  Landon shook his head and scooped a pile of eggs onto Grace’s plate, drenching them in syrup just how she liked.

  Pregnant women had the oddest cravings.

  “I got this sweetheart,” he said.

  He set a plate of food down in front of her.

  Grace beamed and reached for her fork. Her wedding ring caught her attention and she smiled.

  She never thought they would get here.

  Their path was a long and complicated one but maybe love did have a way of conquering all.

  Two years ago she was a strung out addict. Now, she was married to the love of her life and expecting a child with him. She rubbed a hand over her stomach and took a bite of the breakfast Landon had prepared for her.

  “Wow,” she complimented. “You’re getting better at this cooking thing baby.”

  Landon snickered and set down a plate for himself on the table, taking a seat beside his wife. He rubbed a finger over his own wedding band and smiled to himself.

  “And they say an old dog can’t learn old tricks,” he said.

  Grace reached over to rub his shoulders.

  “Does the club have anything planned for today?” she questioned, taking a bite of her bacon.

  Landon shook his head and slid his phone over to Grace.

  “Nope. I’m all yours today mama,” he said with a wink. “That stays off today.”

  A sly smile crawled across Grace’s face as the baby kicked once more.

  “This baby is gonna be a fighter like his dad,” she exclaimed without thinking.

  His.

  Opps.

  Grace looked over at Landon. He stared back at her, his eyes wide.

  “His?”

  “I’m going to have a brother?” Henry spoke up, suddenly paying attention. “Awesome!”

  Grace smiled widely and nodded, blinking back tears.

  “I guess the cats out of the bag,” she responded softly.

  Excitement flared across Landon’s handsome face. He wrapped his arms around his wife and embraced her, kissing her deeply.

  “Wow,” he breathed.

  “A boy...”

  Another Year Later

  Grace beamed down at her son in his high chair and poured herself a mug of coffee. Noel Landon Everett was born a month into the hottest summer in Falls Creek history. He had his grandfather’s name, Landon’s crooked smile and Grace’s dimples. His eyes were dark like his fathers, but almond shaped like his mothers. His honey brown hair was an ode to them both.

  He was perfect.

  Grace spooned applesauce into his mouth as her heart fluttered. His chubby hand was wrapped around a crayon. He was scribbling inside of a coloring book his Aunt Angie had bought him for his first birthday.

  Grace smiled.

  He made everything worth it.

  “Mama!” he exclaimed.

  He pointed at the page and looked up at his mother, his eyes sparkling.

  “You!” he said, handing Grace the crayon.

  “Okay baby,” she replied sweetly, bending down to look at him.

  She drew a heart and pressed a kiss against her son’s forehead.

  “What that?” he asked.

  Grace thought for a moment.

  “My heart baby,” she said with a smile. “It’s all yours.”

  A calm contentedness fell over the room.

  For the first time in her life Grace was exactly where she needed to be.

  More Novels coming soon!

  About The Author

  Jane Slate is a bad girl living a darn good life. At the age of six Jane lost her first tooth. That was also the year she penned her first novel; a candid and close-up (although poorly written) look into an imaginative, high-functioning child’s mind.

  Now Jane spends her time drinking one too many glasses of merlot, relishing in the high and low points of her life, and binge watching “sooo bad they’re good” tattoo artistry reality shows.

  Jane has no offspring of her own (unless cats count!) but her Nieces and Nephews refer to her as the cool aunt, so that has to count for something right?

  For free books and other sweet deals, you can sign-up for Jane’s nifty mailing list here.

  Acknowledgments

  I’d like to take a moment to thank all the people who said I couldn’t do it, all the people who knew I could, and those few who were sure I never would. All of you were a focal part of my determination
and drive. Thank you, thank you, thank you! - xo, Jane