by April Lust
Blade stared at me, something lurking in his eyes. Maybe he didn’t know the exact words, but he knew what I was searching for. “Can’t say that I do.”
“I want to know who you’re working for.”
“I run the show!” he burst out suddenly, anger surging through him. “This is my club! The Slayers belong to me!”
I didn’t bother to tell him that his precious Slayers were either dead or long gone, scattered to the wind. He already knew it; I could see it in his wild eyes. “Who’s calling the shots, Blade?”
He bared his teeth at me like an animal. “I ain’t telling you shit.”
I smiled at him coldly. “Yes, you will.”
In the end, the very end, all Blade would give me was a name. Cash Jones. Maybe it was all Blade had, I didn’t know. But his time was up. I couldn’t let him breathe one more breath. So when I stood, he sensed his own end. He didn’t beg, but he sneered and threw as much maliciousness at me as he could as I reached for the gun I had tucked away in my jacket. It had a bullet with Blade’s name on it and he knew it. When I pointed it at him, he just continued to yell and blather at me.
Then I pulled the trigger and there was finally silence.
Chapter 27
Lucy
My mother and I had eventually gone downstairs. Thunder was bustling around the kitchen like a maid or a mother hen. It was actually kind of endearing and I cracked a smile. He’d made coffee—way too strong, even with milk and sugar—but that was okay. It was warm and soothed me more through the mug in my hand rather than for its contents.
We were seated at the table, my mother across from me. She hadn’t said anything for a long while, her eyes glazed over as she stared off into the distance. Her mug sat on the table, untouched, already getting cold. I was on my second cup and Thunder’s was half drank sitting on the table corner off to the side.
I wondered why he stayed, though part of me already knew.
“How’s Becky?” I asked, because the silence was starting to get to me. I didn’t want to talk about serious things or dark things. We’d done too much of that already. But I needed something to cling to, preferably something normal. Becky was pretty damn normal.
Thunder turned to me suddenly, his eyes wide. “Oh, um, yeah, she’s good. She’s great. Uh, haven’t seen her much today. There’s been a lot going on. But I texted her. She’s…she’s glad you’re okay.” He blushed a little at the admission, and looked away. I understood what he meant—though I thought “okay” was a bit of a strong word right now—and the implications of it. That text told me Becky knew what had happened to me.
I gripped my mug tighter. “Oh. That’s…good. Thank you.”
He nodded, still not looking at me. Fluttering about like a giant ogre mixed with the tooth fairy, he seemed to be trying to find something to do with himself. I had a sneaking suspicion that Max had ordered him to stay and babysit me and my mother while he went and did some of those violent things that I had yet to get away from.
I pushed the thought aside, because I didn’t want to think about what was happening or who was being hurt because of what had happened to me. What I had done.
Thunder finally decided what it was he wanted to do and reached for his half empty coffee mug still sitting on the corner of the table. Except when he reached for it, his thick, clumsy fingers brushed along the side of it and caught the handle, turning it the wrong way. The mug slid off the table and crashed onto the floor with a shatter.
Both my mother and I jumped.
Thunder immediately cursed loudly. “Shit, I’m sorry, you guys,” he told us apologetically. He turned towards the sink and grabbed a towel to mop up the mess first. He knelt and picked up the broken pieces. “I’m real sorry,” he said again.
I shook my head as I pushed back from the table to stand. “It’s okay. Accidents happen.” I went to find the broom and dust pan, pulling them both out of the closet. When Thunder had finished mopping up the spilled coffee, I cleared up the smaller pieces of the mug.
“Thanks, Lucy,” Thunder mumbled, looking embarrassed. “You feeling okay? Sorry, sorry, I know that’s a stupid question. Of course you’re not. That rat bastard Blade—”
I shook my head, swallowing hard. “He…he is a bastard, but he wasn’t the one who…” I trailed off. I couldn’t say it, not out loud. I wasn’t ready for that.
Thunder gave me a funny look, then glanced towards my mother before looking back at me. “Uh, what do you mean?”
I made an uncertain gesture with my hand, looking away. “You know. What happened. In the…in the video.”
Thunder stared me straight in the eyes and told me something that I would spend the rest of my life being grateful for: “That man didn’t touch you. We got there in time.”
I froze. My world swam again, images flashing before my eyes, but there was hope mixed within them. I wasn’t raped. I’d been brutalized, drugged, stripped, humiliated, and taunted, but I hadn’t been raped. It was a small consolation, but it made a world of difference.
I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out, so Thunder continued.
“I came down there with some of the other guys and we saw you on the bed,” Thunder said, his face flushed with a mixture of sympathy for me and anger at those who did it to me. “You were all woozy and didn’t seem to know what was going on, but you were…you were crying. This huge guy was leaning over you. I cold clocked him and he went down, though.” Thunder swelled up with pride and I smiled just a little bit. He was a good guy, no matter what he looked like or what club he’d decided he needed to be a part of. “Then we carried you out. Max said to get you the hell out of there, to keep you safe, so I took you home. I didn’t…I didn’t dress you, you know? That was Marcy, Danny’s old lady,” he explained quickly, making sure I understood he hadn’t seen me naked. That no man had seen me naked.
It made me feel little better, too, but…something bothered me still.
Why hadn’t Max taken me home?
Biting my lip, I asked Thunder. “Where’s Max?”
Thunder scratched at his balding head, his doughy face showing uncertainty. I wasn’t sure if Max had sworn him to secrecy or if he was just feeling like maybe it was a bad idea to tell me, but I could see the reluctance in his eyes.
“Please,” I asked, my voice pleading.
He let out a heavy sigh that made his whole body droop. “He’s taking care of what’s left of the Slayers, you know, so they can’t do anything like this again.”
I smiled at him and said thank you, but my heart wasn’t in it. Not in any of it. He seemed relieved I was taking it so well, but when I asked him to leave so I could have some personal space, he blanched.
“I can’t do that!” he said vehemently. “Not until everything’s done and Max’s back. He said, ‘Don’t you let anything happen to her.’”
Internally, I wanted to shake him and tell him to just fuck off, to leave me be, but that wouldn’t get me anywhere. If anything, it would just bring Max back to me—and part of me was desperate for that, needing his warm, comforting embrace—but I couldn’t have that. If I was going to do what I needed to do, everyone had to be gone. One look at the faces of those I loved, and I knew I’d lose my nerve once again.
Forcing a smile, I nodded. “Okay, but can you maybe…give me some space? Hang out downstairs? I just…I need to be alone.” I directed this at my mother, too, who was only half there anyway. She barely heard me, I thought, but she nodded just the same. She was the one who answered first.
“Of course. I need to do the laundry. And I left the coffee pot on at home. I shouldn’t have left that on.” She was muttering more to herself than anything else as she got up and walked over to the sink to dump out her coffee. “I need to go home.”
An idea sprung into my head then, and it was sort of terrible. I felt bad for even going there, but it was a good idea. It would fix a lot of things for me, and keep my mother together as she struggled to deal with he
r secret.
Thunder was getting ready to argue, probably to tell me I should be with people right now, maybe even offer to call Becky over to hang out. But I wasn’t letting him get that out. I stood quickly and went over to him, dropping my voice to a whisper as I pointed towards my mother. “We can’t let her go home alone,” I told him with raised eyebrows. “She’s a total mess.” My phone buzzed. It was sitting on the table, recovered from the cabin where I’d dropped it last. I hadn’t even checked it, though I knew any missed calls or texts would have been from days ago, not today. It seemed tainted to me, just like everything else. I barely even glanced at it before returning my focus to Thunder. “Please, my mother is important. She’s already been through so much…”
Thunder looked over to where my mother stood at the sink. She’d already dumped out her mug of coffee and now she was just standing there with her hands gripping the sink, staring out the window at nothing at all. He crumbled as soon as he saw her, just like I knew he would. “Are you gonna be okay, though? I mean, Max said to make sure—”
I waved off his concern, though it was probably more valid than he knew, albeit for very different reasons. “I’ll be fine. You’ll only be gone for a little while, right? Just going to look out for my mom, make sure she gets in all right. Tuck her in, maybe?” I made my eyes wider, pulling my eyebrows together, my best pleading expression. The last time I’d used it was on my father, begging him to give Max a chance, because it was a look he couldn’t resist.
And it seemed like neither could Thunder.
“Okay,” he said nodding his head, along with some plan working through his mind. “Okay, yeah. I won’t be gone for long. You’re okay. And…and I’ll call Becky. She’ll come over and by the time I get back, you’ll both be fine. And she’s a woman, so it’ll be better.”
I was about to tell him it wasn’t necessary, that Becky didn’t have to come over, but he’d already pulled out his phone and had dialed her number before I could even get my mouth open.
“Hey, honey? How are you? Yeah, listen, I need a favor…” He trailed off as he walked out of the room to finish the conversation.
I turned to my mother, feeling guilt spread through me as I realized just how badly this would affect her. Everyone else would survive. Max would miss me, but he’d move on. Everything would be okay. But mom? She’d already lost so much and, for a second, I wasn’t sure if I could do it. Could she survive losing yet another member of her family?
I didn’t know. What I did know was that I was running out of time and options. There would always be another fight. Another danger. There would always be another Blade. That was part of this life. That was the real territory that motorcycle clubs—gangs, I thought, call them what they are—claimed as their own. If I ever truly wanted to get away, I was going to have to do it by leaving all of this behind.
Maybe, if the circumstances had been different, I would try to convince her to leave with me, but I knew better. Mom had been a part of this life for longer than I could even understand. She’d loved my father, but she’d stayed also because this life was ingrained in her system now. His death was evidence enough of that.
There was no point in asking her; she wouldn’t say yes.
Biting my lip, I walked over to her. I put my arm across her shoulders and squeezed. “I love you, Mom,” I told her in a quiet voice. “I always have and I always will. No matter what, please, don’t forget that.”
She looked over to me, bleary eyed and managed to crack a smile at me. “I love you, too, baby. My beautiful girl.”
I opened my mouth to say more, but nothing else came out. She smiled at me sweetly, clarity finally shining again in her eyes, right alongside the tears.
“I know, baby. You’ve got to go,” she said quietly so Thunder wouldn’t hear us in the next room. “It’s okay. I want you to be happy and you were never the kind of girl who was going to be happy here. I’m sorry I didn’t get you out.”
Biting my lip, I shook my head, “No, Mom, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. I…Come with me?”
She laughed a little then, sort of how I expected, and shook her head. “No. I was made for this place and I need to be close to your father. Don’t you worry, baby. No one’s going to go after your momma anymore. Max’ll make sure of that.”
I nodded once. There was nothing else to say. I’d been prepared to leave her, because I had to, but hearing her choose to stay ate me up in unexpected ways. I nodded once more. Then Thunder came back into the room and announced that Becky was on her way. She’d be there in maybe ten or fifteen minutes. Then he escorted my mom out, promising to get her home safely and come back as soon as he could. He told me if anything happened, if I ran into trouble, to call him right away.
I promised I would.
I made sure they were gone before I grabbed my phone and headed upstairs. Glancing at the screen as I did, I saw I’d received a new message from today. It was from Max.
I’ll be home soon, babe. I’ve just got one last thing to do. xo
I stared at the text for a long time, but ultimately, I closed it and shoved my phone into my pocket. I grabbed a suitcase and threw it onto the bed, before pulling out drawers to grab clothing, any precious jewelry, mementos, anything I would need to start a new life.
Max’s message played over and over again in my head, taunting me. Just one last thing to do.
No, there would always be one last thing with him. One more bad guy. One more initiation. One more scheme or plan or inevitable showdown. The violence would never stop, because it couldn’t. It was impossible with a man like Max and it didn’t matter how much I loved him anymore. I just couldn’t handle that kind of lifestyle. Not after everything that had happened to me, my mother, and my father.
I’d had enough. It was time to go and to go for good.
I called Becky and told her Thunder had made a mistake. Max just came home and she didn’t need to come over anymore. She said was great, wished me the best, and hung up the phone.
I couldn’t even make myself feel guilty for lying to her.
Chapter 28
Max
My guys aren’t the kind of guys you find walking around an office building. Sure, we had a shop that was pretty tidy, all things considered, and we took care of ourselves—most of us, anyway—but in the end, we weren’t the clean, pretty types. The people walking with me as we marched through the front courtyard of the office building downtown were evidence enough of that. They were a rag-tag group, grim and gruesome from our fight with the Slayers, and we looked more than a little out of place.
Some wore leathers. Most wore at the very least their Reaper jacket, though the Vultures, save Blackbird, had all left to return home, claiming the last of this wasn’t their fight anymore. Most wore jeans. There were some who had bandanas tied around their heads, some had sunglasses, and we all had tattoos. The kind that made mother’s cover their children’s eyes and caused the new age feminists to cry foul.
No, we definitely didn’t belong here. For a moment, that worried me. I needed to get into that building and to the seventh floor if I were going to get to this Jones guy, and that was going to be difficult if we got turned away at the front damn door.
Still, we had to try.
I walked in through the front and found a security guard sitting with a donut just inside the front entrance. Next to him and just past the door was a metal detector. They’d know we were armed long before we got to the elevator, much less the seventh floor.
As soon as the security guard caught sight of us, he put down his donut and scrambled to get to an upright position. He was a little on the chunky side and I was pretty sure he hadn’t been through rigorous training in quite a while. There was little doubt in my mind that, if I had to, I could kick his ass and make it to the elevator before he even had the chance to catch his breath.
But I didn’t want to do that. Not unless I had to.
Getting on the wrong side of the law was a dangerous bus
iness, and while he wasn’t strictly speaking official police, he was still in a uniform working for the “good guys.” That meant they’d take it personally if I fucked him up.
So I tried for diplomacy instead. “I’m here to see Mr. Jones,” I told him in a cool, pointed voice.
Something akin to relief flashed across his features and he grinned, surprising me. “Oh, yeah, of course. You’re Mr. Jones’s guys. You really had me going there for a minute—you don’t usually come out in force!” He gestured to the men behind me.
I frowned, trying to figure out what the fuck he was talking about when I realized it. He thought we were Slayers. Though our jackets marked us differently, this idiot couldn’t tell one motorcycle club apart from the next. Normally, that might piss me off, but today it was the best thing that could have happened.
