by Zoey Parker
Finally, when all the men were down, they started to rip apart the bar. They turned over tables, toppled the pool table, ripped down light fittings. They did everything they could to render the place ruined.
Not once did they hear the piercing squeal of approaching sirens. The cops knew that this was club business and were smart enough to stay away.
“Are we done here?” Henry eventually asked, pausing to kick a fallen man in the ribs.
Max scanned the destruction. The bar had been totaled. It would be months before it was able to re-open.
“Yeah, we’re done.”
As they were leaving, he noticed the blonde barmaid peering out from a distant door towards the back of the room. When she observed the destruction, a solitary tear fell from her eyes, and she shot Max a hateful look. He’d normally shrug off such a look but this time it pierced him deeper than the blade had. She hated him and she had every right to. He’d ruined her bar and for no good reason other than he’d been told to, by his bitter old Uncle. Both shame and pain kept Max’ head low as he trudged back towards the motel behind Henry and Will.
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Zack didn’t care who saw him as he rode into town. With Jameson at his side, he felt powerful and unstoppable. He drove down the narrow streets until he arrived on the street where Brittany worked. He drove directly towards the tattoo parlor and then stopped.
“Looks closed to me,” Jameson observed as he came to a stop just behind him. Swinging himself off his bike he walked round to Zack and glanced at the closed shutters.
“Yeah,” Zack agreed, frowning in confusion. “It does.”
“Shouldn’t it be open by now?” Jameson checked the time on his cell phone.
“It should be, yeah.”
Jameson approached the shutters and read the sign on the nearby wall with the opening times for the tattoo parlor.
“Open daily 10 – 8,” he called out. “And it’s 11:30.”
“Damn,” Zack clenched his fists in frustration. Brittany blatantly wasn’t at work which meant she must be back at her apartment. It’d be hard to convince her to leave from there, and worse, Max might be there. Fear slid up Zack’s throat, causing him to cough. Even though it’d be two on one, he didn’t want to have to face down a Skeleton Kings gang member in front of his sister. He knew how messy that could get.
“So, is she at her place?” Jameson was striding back towards his bike. “Let’s go there.”
“I need to check if she’s alone first,” Zack sighed as he fished his phone out of his pocket.
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Brittany stopped crying when she heard her cell phone ringing. Sniffling, she wiped her face and reaching for the phone, expecting to see Max’s name glowing on the screen. Instead, it was her brother’s details she saw. For a moment, her finger hovered over the decline button but then at the last minute, she accepted the call.
“Hey.”
“Hey, Brittany, are you at your place?” Zack’s voice was muffled by a loud noise like a passing car. Where was he? Was he outside somewhere?
“Yeah,” she frowned at his question. “Why?”
“Are you alone?”
She straightened up on the sofa, drawing her knees up to her chest. “Why would you ask that?” she demanded angrily. “What the hell do you want Zack?”
“Are you home alone, yes or no?” she could hear the tension in his voice.
“Is everything okay?” Brittany glanced fearfully around her apartment. She was most definitely alone.
“Just answer the question.” She imagined her brother delivering the question through gritted teeth as he swiftly lost patience with her.
“Yes, I’m alone,” she replied tersely. “Why would you even ask me that?”
“And you’re in your apartment?”
“Yes!” Brittany was getting wound up with all her brother’s strange questions. What was he even getting at?
“Stay where you are,” he ordered.
“Don’t go telling me what to - ” Brittany stopped talking when she realized that the line had gone dead, Zack had hung up. Her heart fluttered nervously in her chest as she stood up and tentatively approached the window, which overlooked Colridge. She couldn’t see the street outside from her apartment, only the backs of the buildings. She wondered what was going on and why her brother was asking such strange questions. And for a sickening moment she wondered if it had anything to do with what had happened at the bar the previous night.
Chapter Sixty-Nine
Max popped two ibuprofens in his mouth before leaving the grocery store. He was about to make his way back to the motel when he froze. He saw two parked motorcycles outside the closed tattoo parlor across the street. Both of the riders wore leather jackets and looked well-built, but from this distance he couldn’t discern their faces. Inhaling nervously, he stepped back inside the shop, away from view. He watched them from within the safety of the store. He could immediately tell that they were Red Riders members. They had the club’s emblem proudly displayed on their bikes.
“Shit,” Max breathed as he watched them, praying that they’d soon leave. If they saw him he was done for, he was certainly in no state to defend himself. He wished he’d been smart enough to take Will and Henry with him. Colridge was now a pressure cooker on the verge of exploding. Even a stroll down the street could be dangerous.
After a few minutes, the riders pulled off and disappeared down the street. Max wasted no time hurrying off in the opposite direction. He had to get back to the motel and fast.
“They’re here,” he declared as he pushed open the door. Both Henry and Aaron glanced up at him in surprise. They were both freshly showered, which made their wounds seem less dramatic.
“Who is here?” Will asked, wearily rubbing at his eyes.
“Red Riders. I just saw two of their members in town.”
“Well I say we go roll out the welcome wagon for them,” Henry grinned, baring his teeth.
“No,” Max raised a hand of objection at him. “We don’t do anything until we hear from Uncle.”
As if on cue, the telephone in the room began to ring. The three men shared wary glances before Max stepped forward and picked up it, placing the receiver against his ear.
“Hello,” he tried to make himself sound as foreboding as possible.
“Max, that you?” he instantly recognized the craggy old voice of his Uncle Alex.
“Yes, Uncle, it’s me.” Still holding the phone Max lowered himself onto the bed. He could see Henry and Will sharing worried looks.
“You boys did a nice job at that bar last night,” Alex complimented.
“Thanks.” Max’ wounded ear started to throb so he switched sides with the telephone. As he did so, he noticed that it was spotted with his own blood. He might need to consider getting stitches on his cut if it didn’t stop bleeding.
“I think you really stirred up the hornet’s nest there in Colridge,” Alex continued, clearly amused.
“I think so too. I spotted a couple of Red Riders members out on the streets this morning.”
“Good, good. Well then, I need you boys to high-tail it back here as quick as you can.”
Max tightened his grip on the phone. Go back? But why? Going back would mean leaving Brittany. Max closed his eyes in frustration as he recalled how she’d hung up on him. He couldn’t leave without making things right with her. But if he saw her now how would he ever explain his wounds without letting her think he was a monster.
“Come back?” Max choked out the words. “But why? Don’t you need us here in Colridge in case they retaliate?”
“No, I need you back here,” Alex clarified sternly. “There’s a war coming, Max. We need to batten down the hatches and prepare.”
A shudder of fear flew up Max’ spine. He hadn’t intended to start a war. Was that what it was coming to? Pack against pack? Where did Brittany even fit into all that. He couldn’t leave her in Colridge when things were getti
ng so dangerous there.
“I need to bring someone else back with me,” Max stated.
“If it’s that girl you’re fucking, you can think again,” his Uncle replied coldly. Max felt his body tense in shock. He looked over at Henry and Will, expecting to see their guilt-ridden faces, but they were both avoiding his gaze.
“Uncle - ”
“Her brother rides with the Red Riders. Don’t think I don’t know. I know everything, Max. I’ve got eyes everywhere.”
“She doesn’t deserve to get caught up in this,” Max pleaded, feeling panicked.
“I don’t have time to listen to you whine about some girl,” Alex raged. “I need you and the others back here by this evening. We need to start planning how we’re going to ruin the fucking Red Riders once and for all.”
Max swallowed nervously. The rivalry between the two gangs was intense, but never before had one sought to destroy the other.
“War really is coming,” Max realized, tasting bile in his mouth.
“You bet your ass it is,” his uncle swiftly agreed. “And you want to make sure that you’re on the winning side, Max. So be here before sundown. Just the three of you, no stragglers. It’s high time the Skeleton Kings proved that we’re the fucking authority in these parts.”
With a shaking hand, Max lowered the phone back down. Henry and Aaron still refused to meet his gaze.
“I hope you’re both happy,” he addressed them flatly. “We’re going to war with the fucking Riders.”
Chapter Seventy
“This has been a long time coming.” Max listened to his Uncle Alex address the crowded bar. Every available member of the Skeleton Kings had packed inside the flimsy building. The air was thick with sweat and cheap beer.
Max stood towards the back beside Henry and Aaron. His head still throbbed from the wound he’d picked up during the bar fight back in Colridge.
“Too long have the Red Riders taunted us,” his uncle raged to his enraptured audience. Pack members hollered in agreement, raising bottles of beer to the air in a toast. “Too long have they crept into a territory that isn’t fucking theirs.”
“Your Uncle is certainly fired up,” Will whispered quietly to Max. All Max could do was nod stoically in agreement. He had hoped he’d have time to talk to his Uncle, privately, before the entire crew assembled. He wanted to do all he could to discourage his Uncle Alex, from going to war with the Red Riders. But as soon as he pulled into the bar’s parking lot, he knew he was way too late. Almost a hundred motorcycles were lined up outside, glistening in the early morning sunlight, like precious polished toys. All members of the Skeleton Kings were in residence; his Uncle was preparing his troops.
“I like where the old man is coming from,” Henry growled with delight, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back against the wall.
Max said nothing. He continued to gaze over at his Uncle, who was decidedly more animated than usual as he addressed the packed bar.
“I say tonight we show the Riders who really runs things around here!”
People were cheering, salivating at the prospect of spilling blood.
“We’ll run them out of Colridge, out of the state, with their tails between their legs like the pathetic dogs they are!”
“Ooow! Yeah!” men howled like wolves.
Groaning, Max tried to disappear into the shadows of the bar. He couldn’t stop thinking about Brittany, about how his old uncle had known about her all along. Surely, she was now in danger? But he couldn’t go back to her, not at the risk of turning the entire pack against him. They’d tear him apart before he’d made it to his bike. No, he needed to tread carefully, especially now.
Finally, his Uncle dismissed his audience, insisting everyone go home and rest up before the big night. But this dismissal hadn’t included Max, which he realized as he headed for the doors with the others but was promptly pulled back by a strong pair of hands which clamped around his shoulders like a vice.
With a sigh of resignation Max stopped and turned around, letting the other members pass around him on their way out, as though he were a rock in a stream. The heavy hands which had stopped him belonged to one of his Uncle’s most favored cronies, a six-foot five rider called Bulldog.
“I don’t get to rest up then,” Max gestured towards the doors which Henry and Will had previously gone through.
“Rest is for the weak,” Uncle Alex waved a dismissive hand through the air as he staggered back to his regular table. All of the confidence and bluster had gone, and he was once again a feeble old man. Still burning with resentment for his Uncle, Max followed him to the table with Bulldog lingering close by, keeping guard.
“I told you we were going to war,” Alex declared with a sinister smile.
“That you did,” Max agreed flatly.
“And I need to keep you here, where I can see you.”
Max squirmed uncomfortably. He felt more like a child than a man, being held captive like this at the bar.
“If I let you leave here, all you’ll do is go and warn that little girl of yours, and there’s no way in hell we're having that.”
Max tensed with anger.
“She’d warn that brother of hers,” Alex continued. Max wanted to correct him, to insist that Brittany was loyal to him first, but he knew that would be a lie. Brittany loved her brother, she’d do all she could to keep him safe. She wouldn’t be the girl he loved if she’d do otherwise.
“She can’t get mixed up in this,” Max tried to sound menacing but knew he was failing. He was exhausted and his wounds were burning, causing his thoughts to fog.
“Someone caught you real good,” Alex nodded at his wound which Max could already feel was bleeding again.
“A guy at the bar had a blade.” Max winced as he spoke, it was starting to hurt to move his mouth.
“We should get that taken care of,” Alex nodded at Bulldog, who left them alone and disappeared off behind the bar.
“I’m fine,” Max insisted tersely.
“You’re not,” Alex shook his head, gazing at his nephew intently. “And I can’t have you in anything less than top form for tonight.”
“Tonight?” Max kept wincing. He felt like something was hammering a jackhammer against his skull. “Why so soon?” he felt almost delirious from the pain.
“We can’t afford to wait,” Alex explained. “The Red Riders will already be mobilizing, and we'd be smart catch them off guard.”
In Bulldog’s place returned a blonde with a heavily lined face. She was carrying a bright red first aid kit, which she dropped down on the table before kneeling down beside Max to scrutinize his wound.
“Ahh,” he protested, pulling away as she fingered around the tender flesh.
“Don’t be a baby,” Alex chastised. Max wanted to retort that it was easy for his uncle to be so dismissive. He couldn’t remember the last time his old uncle had left the safety of the bar.
“It needs stitches,” the blonde didn’t inform Max. Instead, she spoke directly to Alex who nodded his consent.
“Best take you out back to do them,” she was talking to Max now, nudging his shoulder to get him to stand up.
“You’re in good hands with her,” Alex gave a thin smile. “She’ll fix you up as good as new.”
“Come on now,” the blonde was guiding Max through the bar, away from his uncle.
“Don’t knock him out too good,” Alex called after them. “I need him on his feet by tonight.”
Chapter Seventy-One
Brittany jumped at the sudden pounding against her front door. She stood frozen in the middle of her apartment, her cell phone brandished in her hand like some kind of weapon. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Fear rattled in her chest as she listened to the frantic beating of her own heart echoing in her ears.
“Brittany, it’s me, open up.” Zack’s muffled voice came from the other side of the door.
“Zack,” she said striding towards the door, releasing the locks in bew
ilderment. She thrust open the door to reveal her brother in the hallway, his face tense and pinched. But he wasn’t alone. Brittany glanced at his companion and did her best not to stare at the deep scarring covering half of his face.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she turned back to her brother.
