Reckless

by Franca Storm

I fix my jacket and demand of Neil, “What the hell are you doing here and why the fuck did you just manhandle me like that?” And why is he wearing a leather jacket now instead of his normal cut? Not gonna lie, it looks incredibly sexy on him.

  “I’m undercover,” he tells me, obviously seeing the curious look on my face.

  Right, the Mavs can’t know a Black Thorns member is here, or it would spark a war, I guess.

  Normally, I would have heard him arriving from miles out with the roar of his bike. But it’s noisy in this area with the railway bridge nearby. Those cargo trains are deafening. It’s why I have my boys positioned on lookout. We’ll see the Mavs approaching before we hear them.

  “You gotta call this off,” he tells me.

  My eyes narrow. “No.”

  “Rox,” he grinds out. He starts pacing up and down, cursing. “Fuck, woman! You got any idea how damn difficult you are? You gotta call this off right the hell now!” He winces and grabs his back during his irate pacing.

  I step towards him. “You’re hurt?”

  “Ain’t nothing.”

  “Then why do you look like you’re in pain?”

  “Just a minor stab wound.”

  “What?” I exclaim, reaching for him to get a look at it.

  He snatches my wrists, stopping me. Holding them between us he tells me, “You’re angry. I get it. The Mavs attacked two of your businesses. But this…what you’re gonna do here…it’s too fucking brazen, Rox. It’s a call to war. Do you get that?”

  I glare up at him heatedly. Who the hell does he think he’s talking to? A stupid little girl? “Yeah, I get that. This is war, Neil.”

  He recoils, releasing my hands. “No,” he says, shaking his head.

  “Yes. Now, get out of here. Me and my boys have this under control. It’s not your business.”

  His eyes flash with fire then and he shoves me back against the wall. “Ain’t my business?” he roars, furiously. “You’re my business, woman! You think blowing me off this morning means you’re free and clear of me? You’re mine, Rox!”

  “The hell I am!” How dare he? “It was just sex.” Even as I say the words, I know they’re not true.

  “Like fuck it was. I was there, Rox.”

  Shit. I push against him. “Look, it doesn’t matter. I don’t have time for this. Later.”

  “Yeah, you got time cuz you’re calling this off,” he says, shaking me roughly. “I’ll fuck you into submission right here and now in front of everyone if you don’t back the fuck down,” he threatens. “The only fucking time you ever let go of your obsession with control,” he mutters.

  “Different approach than the one I was gonna use, but I’m down for that,” someone says.

  My eyes leave Neil and I see a guy I don’t recognize standing behind him. A fearsome looking guy with a nasty scar around his left eye and a tattoo of an eagle’s wing snaking up his neck, almost all the way to his shaved head. He’s a big guy like Neil, maybe just a tad shorter. Stockier. He’s wearing an unmarked leather jacket like Neil, black jeans and a ribbed white t-shirt. A couple of thick gold chains hang over the top of it. His fingers are decorated with rings—one on every finger and thumb. And, let’s not forget the motorcycle boots.

  Neil releases me and turns around. “Smiter. Hey, brother,” he says, slapping him on the shoulder when he’s close enough.

  Smiter smiles and lifts his chin at me and asks Neil, “This her?”

  “Yeah,” Neil answers in a frustrated breath as he turns back to me. The two of them stare at me in silence for a moment.

  “This can’t happen, sweetheart,” Smiter tells me, gesturing behind him at my guys spread out around the area.

  “Look, I already—”

  “They got eyes on you,” he announces, cutting me off.

  “What?” Neil and I exclaim in unison.

  He tells us, “Got the intel on my way up here.”

  “They know I’m here right now?” I ask.

  “Yep.”

  “Call it off. Now, Rox,” Neil orders me. “Unless you want a bloodbath on your hands.”

  This time I’m not arguing. I can’t put my guys at risk like this. No way. I tap my earpiece that’s on its own frequency with all my guys. “Abort. They know.”

  And that’s when I see them.

  Bikes coming over the hill leading up to the truck stop. It’s too late!

  “Fuck!” Neil yells.

  Seconds pass, but it feels like everything moves in slow motion as I watch the bikes come over the hill. More than the four that our intel told us about. Ten! And no transport. Yeah, they knew we were coming all right. The next thing I see are their guns. TEC-9s like ours. They slow their speed and then, in practiced formation, they fire.

  I tap my earpiece, commanding my guys to fire at will to take them down. But it’s too late. These guys are organized. It’s a setup! An organized hit!

  As I watch my guys go down in a hail of bullets ripping through their bodies, I can hear myself screaming.

  “Get her outta here! Let’s go, Ax!” Smiter yells.

  “Rox, fuck. We gotta go. Now.”

  But I can’t. I can’t leave my men here. I pull my gun and fire at one of the bikers circling the area and shooting wildly. The bullet hits the gas tank right on, because I’m an amazing shot. But the asshole manages to skid to a quick stop and get the hell away from his bike before it has the chance to blow him away with it. His eyes lock with mine. He raises his gun.

  But Neil shoots first, firing a bullet into the guy’s temple.

  I hear Neil roar in pain a few seconds later. I don’t get the chance to figure out why as, in the next second, strong arms wrap around me, driving me to the floor.

  Neil lies on top of me, shielding me with his massive body, almost crushing me beneath him. A split second later, gunfire rips through the restaurant windows behind us. Exploding glass rains down on us.

  Neil calls to Smiter who’s on the ground next to us. I watch the two of them exchange some signals that I don’t recognize. Club stuff, I guess.

  Smiter nods and braces himself on his hands.

  And then Neil whispers in my ear. “Your guys are gone. We gotta move. Follow Smiter. I’ll bring up the rear.”

  “Okay.”

  Smiter makes a break for it, smashing through the restaurant door. I follow after him and feel Neil at my back as gunfire rains down around us.

  Smiter leads the way through the restaurant, behind the counter and through to the kitchen in the back. All three of us burst out of the backdoor where I see Neil’s Harley and another Harley that I assume is Smiter’s parked there.

  Smiter asks Neil a question that I don’t hear. Neil turns to me. “Babe, where’s your bike?”

  “Back home. I came here in one of the guy’s cars.”

  “Okay. Best route outta here?”

  He means a route out of the Mavs’ line of sight.

  I give them the directions.

  And then Neil hands me his helmet. It’s then that I notice the hole in the arm of his jacket and the blood trickling down the leather.

  “You’re shot!”

  I reach for him, but he tells me, “No time, babe.” He slides his helmet onto my head and then he grabs me and puts me on the back of his bike. I wrap my arms around his waist.

  The next thing I know, we’re roaring away with Smiter following our lead.

  Chapter 15

  ~Ax~

  “Didn’t even get to fire my fucking gun,” Smiter gripes from my right side.

  I’m sitting backwards on one of Rox’s kitchen chairs, my arms crossed over the high back as Smiter stitches up my right shoulder. Sweat’s pouring from me after it took him fucking forever to extract the damn bullet. Fucking thing went deep. Jesus Christ. Thankfully, the worst’s over and he’s just stitching it up now.

  “You sick fuck. Too damn trigger happy,” I tell him.

  He pulls hard then with one of the stitches and I hiss at him. Dickhead
.

  “Your bitch and me got that in common then. You see her tryin’ to take ‘em out? Damn.”

  “Don’t call her that,” I snap, before I even know what the hell I’m saying.

  He laughs, but don’t say no more as he focuses on finishing up the stitches. After a few more minutes, he pats the wound, making me grunt and tells me, “You’re good. Stab wound in your back don’t need stitches. It’ll be fine. Arm’s gonna hurt like a bitch for a while though.”

  I climb off the chair and reach for my t-shirt. I wince at the tightness in my arm. “Thanks.”

  He nods. His eyes stray to my chest. The scar. I see the distress on his face as he looks at it. “Long time ago, Smiter,” I tell him as I pull my t-shirt on and then grab my jacket and shrug it back on too.

  “I tried to stop it. Me and Runner. Told Broker you were a special case; that you’d be back eventually so it weren’t like you were really leaving the club for good.”

  But I was. They don’t need to know that, though. Wouldn’t accept me being back now if they did.

  “I know. My fault. I knew the rules. Shouldn’t have tried to walk with it. Shoulda got it lasered off—or covered up. Forget it.”

  “Broker convinced Prez to let him do it just to make you suffer.”

  “Yeah, well. Didn’t give him the satisfaction. Never heard a sound from me when he was cutting into me like that. Sick fuck.”

  “I know, man. I’m sorry.”

  “I said; forget it.”

  He nods. An awkward silence falls between us ‘til he asks, “You gonna tattoo over it?”

  I shrug my shoulders. “Maybe. Gotta heal right though, so we’ll see.”

  He sighs heavily and pulls out a chair at the kitchen table, taking a seat. “That was some fucked up shit earlier. All her guys massacred like that.”

  “Nothing we ain’t seen before.” It’s cold, yeah. But true.

  “Can’t say the same for her, Ax. You might wanna…you know…talk to her?”

  Rox ain’t said a word since we left that hellhole behind. Apart from telling us to head back to her place, cuz it was secure, she’s been dead silent for the last two hours we been here. And she’s been holed up in the bathroom. The shower stopped running after the first half hour and it’s been silent ever since.

  “She’s in shock. Needs time right now.”

  “Yeah.” He smirks then. “Guess you know your woman better than I do.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “I heard you, don’t forget. Claiming her outside that diner.”

  I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Yeah, well. Drop it for now. We got business to sort. We followed Prez’s orders. Kept her alive. Didn’t get spotted. But now those assholes will come here…for her. Tryin’ to take out their shipment—a mother lode like that—it’s a death sentence.”

  “From Prez’s point of view, don’t matter if they kill her now, Ax. All her boys are buried. Her power here is gone, right?”

  “No. She pulls the strings here. Owns big business, the cops, probably the goddamn mayor too. Don’t matter ‘bout the loss of muscle. She’s still got the power.”

  “Yeah? All right, I hear you. Good. That’ll make it easier to protect her, having club backing and shit. You know what I wanna do, what most of the boys wanna do too. Move in here and take the Mavs out before they take this territory. But Prez is getting soft and he won’t go to war.”

  He’s right. It’s become clear after all this shit the last few days. “Me killing Skinner ain’t gonna cut it. Not with Broker as their new VP. I kill Skinner and he’ll take his place. A guy just fucking like him.”

  He eyes me with suspicion. “Broker cross you?”

  “He and Bulldozer are here. Broker and some of his boys shot at me and Rox, ripped apart my motel. Warning from Skinner ‘bout Thorns being here.”

  He shoots to his feet. “What?”

  “Yeah, man.”

  “And Trig still won’t go to war?”

  “He don’t know.”

  “Come again?”

  “I didn’t want him calling me in. I wanted to go after Broker on my own. Deal with that fuck once and for all. But now…with the shit we just dealt with…they’ll go to ground.”

  “Cuz of your girl.”

  “Yeah,” I mutter.

  Smiter blows out a breath, as frustrated as me that Broker could’ve been buried in the ground today if I’d been able to go ahead and track him down with the intel those idiots I’d beat on had given me. If Rox hadn’t pulled the shit she had. Well, not as frustrated as me. No one else could be. No one else had their own mother murdered cuz of that fucker.

  “There’ll be another shot to avenge Kim, Ax.”

  I hold up my hand. “Don’t.”

  He breaks eye contact. But he can’t let it go. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Ax. She’d still be here if I hadn’t—he was VP—his orders—I didn’t know what he was really tryin’ to do.”

  “Not now,” I snap. I can’t get into that shit. Not what Broker did and sure as hell not how Smiter unwittingly betrayed me that day when Skinner and Broker’d taken her from me. Things have been strained between us ever since. After Runner, he was the closest brother to me, but now…that distance is there. Shit will never be the same. All cuz of that manipulative fuck, Broker.

  Sudden, violent pounding on the door interrupts the awkward shit between us. Thank fuck.

  “Who the hell’s that?” I mutter, stalking outta the kitchen, through the living room to the front door of Rox’s house. Smiter follows after me.

  My hand brushing my holster, I haul open the door.

  I recognize the guy from the files we got on him. Rox’s partner, Ralph. He’s standing on the doorstep looking pissed as hell.

  He glares at me and I step back to let him in, kicking the door shut behind him. “Where is she?” he demands.

  My protective instincts kick in and I tell him, “In no state to deal with whatever crawled up your ass.”

  He ignores me, registering Smiter’s presence briefly, before storming further into the house, bellowing, “Rox! We need to talk! Right now!”

  I hear movement upstairs.

  Seconds later, Rox walks down the stairs. Fuck me. She’s wearing nothing but a black silk robe that barely covers her ass. Her hair’s dripping wet and her eyes are red. She’s been crying.

  As soon as she reaches the lobby, Ralph brushes past me and gets in her face.

  I shove him back. Get away from my girl! “Watch it, asshole.”

  He looks between me and Smiter. Smiter’s tensed, on high alert, ready to step in at any time if Ralph loses his shit. You touch one of us; you fuck with all of us. That’s our code right there.

  But he don’t make a move. Instead, he shoots daggers at Rox and yells, “Is this how it is now? These asshole thugs acting as your damn bodyguards, Rox?”

  Her eyes narrow. “I don’t need bodyguards. Don’t ever forget that.”

  He blows out a breath and rubs the stupid goatee on his face. “Fuck, Rox. You’re such a cold-hearted bitch.”

  “Hey!” I warn.

  “Stay out of this,” he tells me. “This is between me and her, Barron.”

  Fuck him. I step into his space, but a hand presses against my chest. Rox. She looks up at me and shakes her head. “Living room,” she tells Ralph.

  She slides her hand down my chest—clearly an attempt to calm me—and then leads Ralph through to the living room next door. Smiter raises his eyebrows at me. Yeah, intense.

  Barely a second passes before a mother of an argument blows up, their voices carrying through the entire house:

  “You went to war, Rox! You fucking went to war!”

  “I told you I was going to. I didn’t need to run it by you, because you’re out now, remember?”

  What? He’s out? She’s on her own now? So, that’s why she was in such a state earlier then.

  “Screw you, Rox. Most of our boys are dead! It’s all over the damn city. Massacred
in a bloodbath by the Devil’s Mavericks!”

  “I know. I was there, Ralph!”

  “They’re dead because of you!”

  Oh shit. That’s harsh. Smiter catches my eye and I see he agrees with me there. That was a low fucking blow Ralph just dealt her. Putting all those deaths on her. Was a complicated situation. I get what she was tryin’ to do. Hell, we woulda already done it if Prez hadn’t been playing it too damn safe. Shit just got complicated; that’s all. She was set up. Someone tipped off the Mavs. They were watching her.

  She screams then, the sound ripping right through me. “No!”

  “Yes. You were reckless. Power-mad like I warned you and you reacted on that.”

  “I reacted, because those assholes have attacked places under my protection. Places that I’m supposed to guarantee as safe. I had to retaliate.”

  “Oh right, to save face?”

  “That’s not what I meant. The Mavs pulling that shit was calling for war. I just answered the call, Ralph! I don’t back down. I never will! This is MY city!”

  “You’re crazed, Rox. I told you not to get mixed up with MC crap. And here you are attacking the Mavs. And, you’re clearly still fucking Ax, despite me warning you. He will screw you up. Even now his influence is obvious. All the reckless behavior you put behind you a few years ago, is back with a vengeance. He brings it out in you. Let him go, Rox! Walk away from this! What happened today is your wakeup call.”

  “They killed our boys and you expect me to walk away now?”

  “They will kill you!”

  “Let them try.”

  “Fuck, Rox. These guys are your poison. Not just the Mavs. Your involvement with the Thorns, too. Thought you were gonna kick the guy on his ass.”

  “Well, I haven’t. Okay?”

  “Why?”

  “Because…there’s something there.”

  Smiter’s gaze snaps to mine and he mouths, Whoa. Shit, this is the first time she’s admitted there’s something between us. And the one time she does it, it’s to her friend instead of to me. A fucking revelation there though.

  “You love him? Because that’s not what I meant when we had that talk about you settling down. Not him, Rox. Not a biker like him. He’s the VP of a MC—your dad’s MC. That association with them is what killed your mom and now you’re getting involved with it? What the fuck is wrong with you? You think you can play the game, is that it? You can’t. And you think Ax will have your back when you need it? He won’t. The club always comes first with guys like him. You’ll just be there for him to get his dick wet cuz he’s tired of loose club whore pussy; that’s it.”