by Ker Dukey
My dick twitches a little when she grabs his ear and slices up with her blade, taking it clean off. Brenner makes a weird wailing sound, his hands coming up to cover the mess she’s made.
Darby holds it up to me. “He owed me my pound of flesh. Let’s go.”
I tug Brenner towards the back exit. His feet stagger and blood pours from the side of his head like a faucet being left on.
I whip my shirt off and slam it against his chest. “Use this to stop the bleeding.”
“I’ll pull your truck around,” Darby says, taking off across the forecourt. She’s really proving herself useful and I make a mental note to speak to Frost about keeping her around.
The headlights illuminate the walls when she returns with the truck. I push Brenner forwards, shoving him in the back and climbing in next to him.
Darby takes off, full throttle.
This shit will get me an ass whooping, but I need to take the risk.
“Where?” I bark.
He leans forward and taps over the GPS, pulling up the map and tapping on a place around forty miles from here.
“What’s there?” I ask him. This could be a setup.
Wincing and pushing my ruined shirt to his head he grumbles, “His home.”
“He doesn’t have a home!” I snap.
“He used to,” he snaps back.
I pull my cell phone and text the directions to Slim and Frost, telling them to follow us. We will get there before them but have them for backup should this shit go tits up.
“If he’s done anything to her, I swear to God you’ll wish Frost killed you when he had the chance.” I flex my hands and then fist them.
We’re close. She’s going to be okay. I’ll take her in my arms and never let her go. Frost will kick my ass and I’ll take the beating willingly.
“What the fuck do you care?” Brenner shifts in his seat, trying to lean away from me.
“You already know the answer to that,” I tell him.
“You’re hot for her, but you’re beneath her,” he mocks.
“No, she’s beneath you, asshole.” I check my blade on my ankle strap and reload my gun.
“She fucking loves me. I’m her brother, her twin brother. We have a bond no one can touch.” He really believes this shit. He’s so delusional it’s a wonder he didn’t crack sooner.
“You think she’s going to give a shit about you when she finds out what you did to Prez, Gears and Tats?”
“Collateral damage, she’ll get over it.”
“Her mother?” I scorn.
“I’ll play the kid excuse, didn’t know what I was doing.”
“Avery?” I add.
He rolls his neck and closes his eyes. “She was a Cutters’ whore. She should never have been given my sister’s title.”
Title? What the fuck?
“You tortured her because we called her Princess?” I scorn. I want to gut him, open him up from his belly to his gullet, and make him watch as his insides spill out.
“I fucked the bitch because I can. I took her, and my entitled brother thinks he can do whatever the fuck he wants. Now anytime he gets inside her my scars will be there to remind him of what I made her.”
“You have issues, you know that?”
He heckles. “Yeah, you fucking moron. I know that.”
“Why kill Tats? He was a loyal dog to you.” I need to know his motives behind all this, to make it make sense.
“He was a liability. And the drugs had cooked what little brain cells he had left. I don’t need him. I don’t need anyone.”
“Except Rhiannon,” I taunt.
“She’s mine.”
I laugh loud and fucking deep. Darby eyes me in the rearview.
“You won’t be getting anywhere near her. I’m going to make her my old lady and you can go to your grave knowing that as a fact.”
He goes for me but he’s weak as fuck. I bat his hands away and chuckle. How the mighty have fallen.
* * *
This place looks worse than the motel Brenner abused Avery in. Houses line dead streets, and the night lights have long been turned out. The whole place is shrouded in the cloak of night.
Darby kills the headlights and Brenner sits forward. He napped the rest of the way here. His body is fucked up, he’s probably got internal bleeding.
“That one.” He points towards where a flicker of light comes from one of the windows, just like at the motel. I don’t get my hopes up because fear is freezing my veins. If she’s here, what if she’s been subjected to the same shit Avery was? It doesn’t matter right now, I just need to get her safe. I’ll help her overcome anything.
My cell lights up with a text from Frost.
We’re ten minutes out, motherfucker, don’t do nothing else stupid.
Too late.
“Out.” I bark, popping open the door and dragging Brenner across the seat.
Darby joins me outside the car, her gun ready.
“You wait here with Brenner. If I can take him by surprise, then that’s what I’ll do.”
She nods her head to confirm my request.
Taking my blade from its sheath, I creep up the pathway of the overgrown garden.
I try the handle on the front door. However, it doesn’t give so I skulk around the back of the house. There’s a window slightly off-kilter from the rotting wood containing it. Digging the edge of my blade underneath it, I pop the fucker right out. Grasping it so it doesn’t crash to the floor and alert him to me being here, I lower it down on the floor.
I climb inside, holding my breath so I don’t risk him hearing me.
Please be here. Fuck, I need you to be here.
I want to take this fucker by surprise. Kill him and rescue my girl.
The beating of my own heart echoes in my ears as I stalk through what looks like an old kitchen and into where the light is coming from.
My heart seizes as reality tumbles down Alice’s rabbit hole.
“What the fuck?”
25
Rhiannon
Sweat seals me to Buzz’s body like a vacuum. We fell asleep.
“What the fuck?”
I look up, still drowsy from sleep. My heart rate spikes, beating a million miles a minute.
“Scorch,” I sigh out. Relief is so potent I can feel it in the air around me. I want to reach out and feel his skin on mine, to know he’s really here.
His face screws up, distorting all his beautiful features. There’s pain, anger, confusion written in his brown eyes, blazing with a fire I’ve never seen before. He’s staring down at me like he’s not even looking at me but at something too painful to comprehend.
It’s then I remember I’m naked and sleeping on the bare chest of their enemy.
“Is this a fucking joke?” he barks, running both hands over his head manically.
My lips part to tell him it’s okay, it’s nothing, but Buzz jerks awake and pushes me off him so quick the blanket falls, exposing my bare flesh. He’s up and on Scorch, ramming him around his midriff. They tumble into the kitchen, taking out part of the wall as they spill backwards.
My lungs constrict. The room expands and closes in all at once. “No!”
I grasp the blanket to me and get to my feet.
“Stop it!” I scream, my throat catching fire as I try to make them hear me.
They wrestle and hit at each other, the thuds they rain down on one another making bile race up my throat. “Please stop”. I try to get over to them, but they’re moving around too rapidly. Their strength is overpowering any attempt I make to separate them.
A loud pop sounds from behind me and then the front door is kicked in.
There’s a fleeting moment when I think that whoever it is will break these two apart, but then Brenner gets all but pushed through the door. He struggles using the wall as an aid for his failing legs. He looks half dead. I wish he was entirely dead.
His eyes lazily appraise me, the color disappearing into the pupils as
he witnesses my nudity beneath the blanket. He drags his gaze over to Scorch pulling Buzz through the kitchen in a headlock.
My heart is cracking through my chest.
“He fucking touched you? Bastard!” Brenner roars.
He turns to the woman who shoved him inside. He swings a closed fist at her and hits her hard in the face, grabbing her arm and twisting it. It makes a horrifying sound and she screams out in pain. Her gun drops to the floor and Brenner bends, swiping it up and aiming it in the direction of Buzz and Scorch. I want to go to the woman and help her but Brenner’s words have my legs wanting to buckle.
“I’ll fucking kill you for touching her!” He shrieks; it’s otherworldly, almost as if a demon possessing him howls out in pain. He lines up the shot.
My feet move on their own. I jump forward to stop him from killing Buzz, but it’s too late. The gun fires and I hold my breath, burrowing inside myself and reliving all my memories of Scorch and me.
It happens so fast. Air rushes past my face as I’m shoved from behind. Scorches voice rings out, a bellowed, “Nooo!” slicing through the air.
I hit the floor and hear the slap as the bullet finds a home, the thud of a body hitting the floor following.
I gasp at the air to fill my frozen lungs as more bullets sound off.
Pop. Pop. Pop.
Feet thunder across the battered floors when the room is flooded with Lilith’s Army brothers.
I can see the girl who arrived with Brenner on the floor cradling her arm. I’m too scared to look behind me. I can taste the change in the atmosphere. Fat salty tears coat my cheeks and lips.
“Rhiannon,” Someone says my name and the blanket I lost the grip of when I fell is placed over my shoulders.
“Shit. Man. Fucking. Down. Get in here!” someone barks.
“Where’s Buzz?” another asks.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
“He got away!” Brenner chokes.
It’s then that the world crashes around me. Because that means if Buzz didn’t take the bullet ...
I turn, and a blood-curdling scream tears from me.
Scorch is lying on the floor, blood blooming from a hole in his chest.
I crawl over to him and hold my hand over the wound and drag his head to my lap.
His eyes flutter, and the world stops.
“I love you,” he whispers on his last breath. The rhythmic movement of his ribcage stills beneath my hand.
Every girl in love longs to hear those three special words, but not like this, not on the stained red lips of the man you’re not sure how to live without.
I feel hollow, this can’t be happening. “Please, please, wake up, please, oh God.” This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. The weight pushing down on my chest is a reminder of his presence, the love we share. “Please help him,” I beg. Tears cascade from my eyes, trying to wash out this dread dragging me into its depths.
My hands push down on his wound, and blood seeps out, leaving them sopping wet. “Oh God! Please, help me!” I cry out again. My weeping soul pleads for mercy from this crushing ache. “Why is no one helping me?” I scream.
“No pulse,” someone announces.
My world crumbles like it’s made of paper and been left out in the rain.
I want to reverse time. Go back. Change everything from playing out like this. I’m unsure which pain is worse, the agony of losing him or the ache I know I’ll have never knowing what we could have been.
Fear. Sorrow IS fear. It's potent, drowning me. My own screams gobble me up until there’s nothing but agony and darkness.
“Move!” I hear Slade’s voice. It anchors me, bringing me back.
“Keep pressure there, Rhi!” he barks as he begins CPR. Tilting Scorch’s head, he pinches his nose and blows into his mouth before starting compressions. He counts and my heart thuds with each number.
One.
Thud.
Two.
Thud.
Three.
Thud.
Please. I’d give anything to bring him back, give up everything just to hear him take a breath.
“There’s a weak pulse. Slim take over from Rhi. Press down on that fucking wound.”
I’m dragged backwards by someone and tears blur my vision.
Slade rips open Scorch’s shirt and begins pumping at his chest again.
Please be okay. My hands lift to my mouth, and the metallic taste of the man I love's blood explodes over my lips. This is all my fault. I should have tried to get away sooner, tried everything to get back to him.
The vision of Slade, desperately trying to keep his best friend alive sends waves of adrenaline, fueling a rage towards Brenner. That motherfucker.
I jump to my feet and race over to him. He’s being held at gunpoint, but he’s glaring at Scorch like he did something to offend him. Bastard.
“He’s fucking dying because of you, you selfish prick. What did you do? What did you do? I hate you, you fucking bastard!” I scream.
My fist pounds against his chest, face, arms. He tries to bring me into him, but I fight him. “No, don’t you touch me.” I hold my finger up to him. I feel wild and broken, like the ties of my rationality have snapped. He doesn’t get to comfort me, he doesn’t get to restrain me. He doesn’t get me.
“I hate you,” I spit in his face and slap him across the cheek one last time. “You ruined my life, you take everything good and destroy it.”
“You’re upset,” he states, his tone dark.
“Upset?” I laugh unnatural and loud. “I love him, do you understand that concept? Do you love anyone?”
“You,” he breathes out. I think he actually believes that.
“Well, I don’t love you. You are no brother of mine.”
“Rhi…” He calls. “Rhiannon!” he shouts out to me as I move away from him. I stand hovering over the man I love, who’s dying because of me.
“I have a stronger heartbeat!” Slade barks. “Where the fuck’s the ambulance?”
Oh - my - God.
I collapse to my knees beside Scorch and take his hand in mine. “Please be okay, please just be okay. I love you.” I sob. I thought I knew what sorrow felt like, but this hurts, this agony is beyond anything I’ve been through before. How can such a hurt exist? It’s crippling, physical.
Slade’s eyes are fierce on me, but I don’t care. Life is too short to hide how I feel, how we feel.
We fought it, we tried so hard, but the heart wants what the heart wants.
A ruckus sounds from the back door. Buzz has been caught and is being pummeled. Sirens sound from afar and everyone gets edgy. The atmosphere is so tense, it squeezes around us like smog before a storm.
“Fucking cops!” someone barks.
“Go, get them out of here and back to the club!” Slade shouts.
Brothers file out instantly. I stare at Slim, a warning that he’s not going anywhere.
“Just hold on,” I beg Scorch.
Slade’s hands are caked in Scorch’s blood as he holds a shirt to the wound over Slim’s hands.
“He’s going to be okay, right?” I beg him.
Slade doesn’t answer me, and sickness stirs and burns a path up my throat.
Images of us the night in his car wash over me. The way he became defensive the next day and acted like he hadn’t just changed me forever.
It will never be stolen moments if he makes it through this. It won’t be drunk sex he can’t remember the next day, it will be lovemaking. It will be him and me. Everyone will just have to learn to deal with it, or don’t, I don’t care. I’m not hiding how I feel anymore. I’m intoxicated with him. He can’t die. He can’t, I won’t survive it.
It’s always been him.
Paramedics file in, and we scatter away. I watch in silence as they shout medical terms to each other and fix a mask over Scorch’s face while inserting a needle into his veins.
“He’s going to be okay, right?” I ask.<
br />
“We need to get him to the hospital now.”
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
* * *
Slade sent me home to get clothes and clean up. Three brothers have accompanied me and are taking me back to the clubhouse where my father is waiting for me. Scorch is in the operating room, and I need to be there. To tell him I’m waiting for him to just wake up. He’s going to be okay. He has to be.
My skin is so itchy it feels foreign to me. The tired eyes that stare back at me in the mirror don’t belong to the eighteen-year-old girl I once was. They’ve aged, the experiences of this life dulling them. I know the tiredness I feel can’t be sated with sleep.
Dried blood is stuck beneath my nails and paints my skin right up to the elbow.
I turn on the shower and peel off the shirt Owl put on me when I came out of that house. He was relieved to see me and even brought me in for a hug.
The hot water steams the room and I breathe it in, cleansing my insides.
I step beneath the pounding rainfall and relish the burn over my flesh.
The water runs almost brown from the filth in my hair. It’s matted and painful. The smell of my shampoo is so strong and welcoming that tears fall from my eyes. My wrist smarts when I try to wash the thick strands. I hadn’t realized how bad the bruising and welts were from the cuffs. It will need some medical attention, but for now, it can wait.
I squeeze body wash from the bottle and smother my skin in foamy suds. I feel tender and raw all over. I trace the places Scorch’s hands touched the night in his car.
He had picked me up, mortal drunk, and I drove us to Meadow’s Peak. The views are fantastic up there, and I just wanted to prolong the time with him. We stole a bottle of Jack Daniels from the party I was at and took turns sipping from the bottle. The burn was nothing compared to the fire inside me.
“You shouldn’t look at me like that, Princess,” he growls, and I feel it reverberate between the apex of my thighs. We’re sitting side by side, sharing the same bottle of liquor. My lips savor the taste of his on the rim.
