“Everything is great; we’re just going to get some coffee. Any sightings?”
“No. Not a thing, we’ll be at their compound in about five minutes. We’ve split up along the roads, but we’re going to regroup before we go in.” Snake’s voice was recognisable but not too clear over the radio; still it helped to know he was OK.
“Let us know before it starts. Don’t do anything reckless.”
“I won’t,” Snake laughed, “You taught me better than that, old man.”
Irish laughed. “I’ll have the coffee brewed and ready for when you return.”
“After this is over I think we’re all going to deserve something a little stronger than coffee.”
“I’ll see what I can rustle up.”
“OK. Crag is back, he went in to scout ahead.”
There was silence from the radio. Faith could hardly breathe, the thought of them all fighting, seemed so unreal. That sort of thing happened in movies, not in real life. She had seen her fair share of rough behaviour growing up in the trailer park, but never anything like this.
With nerves getting the better of her she began to chew her nails, something she hadn’t done for some time. The wait was unbearable, then the radio sparked to life again.
“Crag said it was really quiet, we’re wondering if they’ve gone out on a job. We’re gonna close in and check it out.”
“OK.”
Irish and Faith had reached the kitchen, and she saw Smithy. When he turned, she saw he was a Prospect, which was why he had been left behind, not ready yet to fight. As she looked, the badge on his vest exploded, red blood leaking out through the hole that had been put through him.
The sound had been loud, which meant it must be close. They now knew why it was so quiet at the Castaway’s compound. It was because they had decided to bring the war to the Dread Cult. Only trouble was, no one was at home to defend it. No one except her and the old man, Irish.
Irish only had a second to press the radio and whisper, “We’re under attack,” before he grabbed her hand and they ran for their lives.
Snake
Snake heard the gunshot through the radio, his heart stopped beating. The whole plan had backfired; the reason why there were no Castaways here was that they had gone to the Dread Cult hangout instead. They had the same idea, attack when least expected.
What was he supposed to do; he couldn’t be in two places at the same time. The pull to get to Faith was too much, he had put her in danger, and although he had left her with someone he trusted, they were no match for all of the Castaways.
However, he couldn’t very well ask his men to leave now, simply to rescue his woman. That was a new thought for Snake; Faith had caught him completely unaware, and taken his heart captive. She was the woman he wanted to become his old lady. First, he had to rescue her.
“Crag.” He called his VP over, knowing he had to get him on side, he hoped the news that their home, their hangout was being attacked would be enough to galvanise them into action. “They’ve had the same idea, the Castaways are attacking us.”
“Attacking, where?” Then Crag looked down at the radio and understood. “What do you want us to do?”
“Leave ten men here, burn the place to the ground. The rest of us will double back and end this once and for all.”
“OK. Send those Cult Castaways to hell once and for all, I like it.”
He disappeared, shouting orders while he went. Snake lifted the radio and tried one last time to get hold of Faith. The radio crackled, and he spoke quietly into it. “I’m coming, honey, hang on. I’m coming.”
“Very sweet, Snake. But maybe you’re already too late.”
“What? Who is this?”
“Don’t you know, Snake? Don’t you recognise my voice? Well, don’t worry, because by the time I’ve finished with your little lady she won't be able to forget it, for a very long time.”
The radio went dead, and with it went a piece of Snake’s heart.
Trying to keep calm, he mounted his bike and waited for his men, his brothers to join him. It took all his strength to remain there, to not go off to rescue Faith on his own. He knew he would be no help to her dead. He also knew that was exactly the fate waiting for any man who dared lay a hand on her.
Revving his engine he took off, his tyres burning rubber on the road as he sped off to take care of business.
Chapter Twelve
Faith
The gunshot still rang in her ears; Irish grabbed her hand and led her into the depths of the hangout. She knew her safety; her very life was in his hands now. Her only hope was to trust him, and hope he knew where they could hide to wait the return of Snake.
The radio crackled, and the old guy threw it away.
“Why did you do that, how will Snake find us?”
“If that thing makes too much noise anyone will be able to find us,”
Understanding spread across her face, he was right of course, but it made her feel so alone, so isolated. She had to trust in Snake to find them; they also needed to buy some time. If all the Castaways had come, then there would be many eyes searching for her and Irish. Her mind switched briefly back to Smithy, and the hole they had put in him. She hated that he had been left lying in a pool of his own blood, and that she had thought more of self preservation than trying to save the man’s life. A man who had been told to keep her safe.
That kind of thinking would do her no good; it was too late to go back. All she could do was work with Irish to keep them both out of the clutches of the Castaways while they awaited their rescuers. Silently she prayed for Snake to come quickly, whether it would be in time was anyone’s guess.
Irish took them past Snake’s office and down another corridor. She had not realised the compound was so big. All the time the image of Smithy kept popping into her head, she couldn’t make it stop. Her body seemed to be going into some kind of panic mode, and only the feel of Irish’s hand on her arm, propelling her forward, stopped her from crumbling into a heap on the ground. She wasn’t cut out for this; she had been kidding herself thinking she would one day be the strong woman Snake needed at his side.
Once again, she felt like a small nobody, her only hope to find somewhere to hide, when as Snake’s old lady she should have been strong enough to do something to defend the hangout.
“In here,” Irish said, quietly opening a door and leading her into a big warehouse. “There. If you climb that ladder, I’ll move it, and they will never guess where you are if you stay really quiet.”
“What about you?” she asked, not liking the idea of the old man on his own.
“Don’t worry about me. I’ve lived long enough. I reckon if I can give them something to think about, it will give the other’s time to get back here. If not they might just torch the place.”
“Then I am not going up there.”
“It’s safer. I know I can get their attention.”
“No. I’m coming with you. Between us we should be able to do something.”
“I don’t know if you’re up to what I plan to do.”
“Oh God. Are you going to shoot one of them?”
“If I have to, but I have something bigger planned.”
“Something bigger. I like the sound of that. I can’t help but picture Smithy lying there with all that blood coming out.” Her voice trembled and tears threatened.
“Always like that the first time you see a man shot down in front of you.”
“You’ve seen lots?”
“Used to be in the army. So yes.” He looked around at the sound of a loud crash outside. “Decide what you’re going to do. There’s no time left to wait around.”
“I’m coming with you. I have to do something. Although I warn you, my legs don’t feel like they can support me. So promise me, if I hold you back, then leave me.”
“Won’t come to that. You’ll do fine. Just remember to breathe.”
He was off out of a side door, leaving her to follow. Faith marvell
ed at how fast he could move for such an old man. She figured he must have kept himself in shape all his life. It comforted her to know she was with such a capable man. They could do this, they could save the compound, and buy enough time for Snake to get here and avenge Smithy’s death.
Once out of the door, they found themselves in an open courtyard. “We need to get across here and into the other warehouse,” Irish told her.
She nodded, and followed his lead, keeping an eye on the roof of the building, and also listening out for any of the other doors opening. They were nearly across when there was a loud shout. Neither of them stopped to find out if they had been spotted, instead they raced forward, and pulled the heavy door open between them.
“Right. There are some explosives in here. I think they’re in the crates over there.”
Faith froze. “Explosives!”
“Yep. We need to hurry.” He was off towards the crates, but she stood still, scared to move. This was all wrong. She felt as though she had ended up in a movie. These things did not happen in real life. Yet here was Irish, already levering lids off to look inside big deep crates.
He pulled out a gun, some kind of rifle she thought, and placed it down by the side of the crate. Then he moved onto the next one. “Come on. Give me a hand.”
Faith moved forward to join him, her body reacting on autopilot. Despite feeling out of her depth, she helped him get the lid off the next one, and dug her hand in to see what was in the packing crate. Her hands closed around something cold and hard, and she pulled it out. Another gun, a pistol of some kind.
“Ever use one?” Irish asked, nodding at the thing in her hand.
“No,” she whispered, still shocked at holding it in her hand.
“Before we leave here I am going to give you a crash course.”
“I can’t kill anyone.” She shook her head and placed the gun back in the crate.
“Then you will likely end up dead. I’m not asking you to do anything in cold blood. But if it’s you or the other guy, you better know how to use it.”
She went back to searching the crate, hoping she would never need to heed the advice Irish had given her.
“Ahh,” he said, pulling out something that looked like a battery. “This will do nicely. Better than I hoped. At least it won’t take me long to wire it up.”
“What are you going to do with it?”
He chuckled. “You’ll see.”
He went back to searching and lifted out two similar looking batteries. Faith had no idea what he was going to do with them, all she knew was whatever it was they needed to do it soon. Shouts outside were getting closer. The Castaways were thoroughly searching the buildings, and soon they would be found.
“How long do you think it will be until the others get back?” she asked.
“Another ten minutes, hard to say. Depends on traffic, and whether Snake heard that gunshot.”
He saw her worried face. “Let me show you how to use your gun.”
Feeling sick, she let him show her how to take the safety off and aim. She couldn’t actually fire the gun without giving away their position. She just hoped she would never have to experience the kickback from the gun Irish warned her about.
Before she had time to give it too much thought he had gathered up the rifle, and two of the batteries, leaving Faith to carry the third. Then they headed out a different door. As it opened, Faith realised they had come full circle, and were now back at the front of the hangout.
Two men stood in front of the bar, but they were looking into it rather than at the side. It gave them time to slide along the edge of the building and out of sight.
“Now we need to get to the bikes.”
“They’re not out front though.”
“No. My guess is they didn’t have the balls to come knocking at the front door, so they’ll be round back. A little way up the road.” He smiled at her, and set off.
Faith gripped the cold gun in her hand and followed. Once they got far enough away, she knew it would take all her courage to stay, and not simply run for her life. This wasn’t her battle after all. No. That wasn’t true. The Castaways had made it clear she was a target, caught up in their stupid turf war. She had to see this through, or live forever looking over her shoulder.
By the time the row of bikes came into view, gleaming chrome reflecting the sunlight, she had fully committed to doing whatever it took to get the Castaways off her back. Although she had second thoughts about whether that would ever happen when she realised what Irish was about to do. It appeared the batteries were actually explosives, and he planned to blow up the long line of bikes.
“They’ll go ballistic!” she exclaimed as Irish set about connecting the explosives.
“That’s the general idea.”
“But...” She had nothing to say to talk him out of it, mainly because she could see no other way of creating such an impressive diversion.
“Now, I need you to get those two out of the way.” He pointed to the two Castaways who had been left standing guard on the bikes.
“I can’t, Irish.”
“Yes, you can. I don’t care if you have to run past them naked, you have to get them to move away long enough for me to put these on the bikes.” He was twisting the last two wires together as he spoke. “And you have to do it now.”
With that he pushed her forward out into view, and she could think of nothing better to do than run past them. Once she had their attention, she just kept running, turning to see if they were following. They weren’t. Instead, they watched her with curiosity, so she decided to let them know who she was.
“Oh no! More Castaways. Wait until my Snake hears about you, he’s gonna chase you down and beat you to a pulp.”
“By the time we’ve finished with you I doubt you’ll be able to talk. Your mouth will be too full of my cock.”
One of them moved towards her. “I bet neither of you has a cock as big as Snake’s.”
“Come here and I’ll show you.”
“So I guess you’re friend is the one with the small cock,” she jeered as one of them stayed by the bikes. It did the trick, and she had to run faster because they both were close behind. She couldn’t believe something so stupid could work. Although her satisfaction was short lived when they started gaining on her, running had never been her strong point.
However, they soon stopped in their tracks when a massive explosion reached them, the heat of the fire that followed could be felt in the air. Irish had done his job, but Faith did not stop to look at the aftermath, she simply ran for her life, hiding in the first place she came to, and waiting to see what would happen next.
It was not pretty. From her vantage point, squeezed between two bins, she watched the Castaways run out to see what had gone up. At first, there were only one or two, but soon the others abandoned their search for her and Irish and came to view the destruction of their bikes. She couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like some grown men were crying out there. It made her think of her brother and his toys, when they were growing up. It might be true that some men didn’t change much at all.
Faith tried hard to make out any familiar figures in the crowd now gathering, it had never entered her head that Stan might be there, or that she might have put him in danger. Maybe he had run, as he said he planned, and got out of town before this went down. Whatever happened, he had made his choice to abandon her, and now he was on his own.
Same went for Rob. Faith was now firmly sided with Snake. As long as they hurried up and got here.
The Castaways’ retribution would be swift and hard, what Irish had done had been a very short term fix at best. But if the hangout was going to remain standing, the Dread Cult needed to get their butts here quick.
As if on cue, there was the sound of motorbikes in the distance. The crowd of Castaways turned their attention back to the hangout, and with loud shouts, disappeared.
Faith had no idea what was happening. As much as she wanted to, she dare
d not move from her hiding place. The gun was still in her hand but she didn’t want to use it. That was not someone she wanted to be.
However, the waiting was terrible. It may only have been minutes passing, but it seemed like a lifetime. If Snake had returned, with the other rest of the MC club, had it escalated into an all out war? Surely not. There had been no more gunshots.
An explosion rocked her again, a fuel tank on one of the bikes burst into flames. It was then that she heard the sirens in the distance. The fire department must be responding to the explosion, and that would no doubt bring police too.
As her hand tightened around the gun she realised this was not something she wanted to be caught with. Opening the bin, she dropped it in, and then moved away from her hiding place, thinking she would look a lot less suspicious if she was stood watching the fire from a distance, rather than hiding.
In fact, there were other people coming now, drawn by the fire, curious as to what was going on. She had no idea what she was supposed to do. If the police found the guns and explosives in the warehouse then everyone would be arrested. The whole thing was a mess, and she felt responsible in many ways.
Moving out to join the crowd, she considered walking back to the warehouse. It was then that she spotted Irish coming towards her. She felt relieved, at least this way she would get some news about what was going on.
Smiling at him, she took a few steps towards him. He did not smile back, and her heart constricted in her chest. “Is everything OK?” she asked.
“I don’t know. I never made it back to the warehouse. The Castaways came out so fast I had to hide.”
“Then let’s go find out.”
“It might be dangerous.” He looked at her hands, and noted they were empty. “Gun?”
“I dumped it.” She looked a little embarrassed. “Sorry.”
“No problem, it’s probably not safe to have it anyway. Police are sure to be here, if they’re not already. I left my rifle where I hid, we’ll grab that.”
Turning Point: BBW Motorcycle Club Erotic Romance Page 11
