by Celia Loren
“Don’t let anything happen to yourself tomorrow, OK?” I whisper, the thought causing my throat to close up as I try not to cry.
“I won’t,” he says. “How could I miss all the debates about where to put the furniture in here?” he adds with a grin.
I punch him lightly in the arm and roll off him, cuddling into his side. I can’t help it. I run my eyes over the living room, thinking of what kind of furniture we’ll need and what color scheme to use. I’ve never actually been able decorate my own house before.
He kisses my forehead. “We should get back before anyone realizes you’re gone.”
I nod and stand up slowly, stretching. “It’ll be good to get this thing off,” I say, shaking my ankle monitor. “Hey, do you think Kalb and Scout will get along?”
“Kalb’s great with other dogs,” Drifter assures me, as he picks up his clothes and pulls them on.
“Scout, too,” I say, as I do the same. “I can’t wait to see him.” Drifter takes my hand and I grin like a schoolgirl. He leads me through the front door of the house and locks up behind us. We slip on our helmets and pull away from the house, our house, on his bike.
I wrap my arms tightly around him, willing myself not to think of what could happen to him tomorrow night. It would be too cruel to have this future with him dangled in front of me and then taken away so quickly.
The drive back to the clubhouse flies by, and too soon we are back at the gates. Drifter drops me off by the stone wall, then drives back up the hill by himself. I circle the wall to the rear of the property, then walk up to the back door. Drifter has entered by the main door to cover our absence together.
I glance at the clock on the microwave, and see that I need to start dinner already. This day has been packed and I’m exhausted, but I also don’t want it to end, because I know that tomorrow Drifter has to ride into battle.
My mind is unfocused as I grill some spicy honey chicken and vegetables. It doesn’t need to cook for long, so I can get it ready quickly. I’ve gotten used to having Stephanie around to help me out, but she must have work tonight. Well, dinner might have to be a little later than usual. With a start, I realize that this might be the last dinner I make here, depending on when the brothers leave tomorrow to get back to Clarksville.
I bring everything into the lounge on two big trays. I hastily set the table as brothers are already circling the food. I see Drifter and Tag on their way in from the offices, probably coming from a strategy meeting with Flint. Drifter gives me a little smile and I have to resist the urge to run over to him and leap into his arms. One more day. Then I’ll be free of Rooster, and Drifter and I can move on with our life together.
I eat quietly in the kitchen, thinking of Scout and Kalb running around on that big property together. My heart aches when I think of Scout, my only remaining connection to my father. I can’t help but thinking of the violence that’s going to happen tomorrow night. If Rooster is killed, I’ll never know exactly what happened to my father, but I’d be happy to never have to see Rooster again in my life. Maybe it’s callous, but I wouldn’t be sad to see Rooster die. After everything he did to me, and finding out what he did to my father, I think it would be a fitting end for him to die tomorrow. Any love I ever had for him is long gone.
I finish up my food and clean up everything in the kitchen. Cleaning up the grill doesn’t take long, but by the time I’m done the lounge has cleared out. I clear the table and put everything into the dishwasher, then turn it on and head upstairs.
I walk into my dark bedroom and sit down on the bed, exhausted. I decide I definitely need a shower and force my tired limbs into the bathroom. The hot water feels somewhat rejuvenating, but my thoughts keep running to Drifter and worrying about his safety. I shut off the water and wrap the towel around me, heading back into my bedroom. I slip on my pajamas and decide to sneak into Drifter’s room. I peer out into the hallway and don’t see anyone, so I hurry over to his room and quickly dart inside. The room is dark, so I switch on the bedside lamp. He’s not there and neither is Kalb. They’re probably out on a walk.
I slip under his sheets, happy to be in his bed again. I must drift off, because the next thing I know I’m waking up to the feel of someone getting into bed beside me. I open my eyes to see Drifter sitting on the bed, watching me. Kalb jumps up on the foot of the bed and pushes my leg with his snout.
“I don’t know if this bed is big enough for the three of us,” I say, smiling at him.
“For our house, we’ll have a king size,” Drifter says, and leans down to kiss me.
The lamp on the bedside table suddenly shuts off. I can feel Drifter freeze for a moment, then get off the bed and go to the door. He opens it, then comes back to the bed.
“Stay there,” he whispers, reaching under the bed, “The power’s out to the whole building. Take this.” He presses something cold and metal into my hand.
I realize with a sinking sensation that he’s just handed me a gun. I hear shouts coming from around the building.
“What’s going on?” I whisper urgently, as he clicks on a small flashlight. He has a handgun in his hand, and one tucked in at the small of his back.
“There aren’t any storms in the area, so I think someone cut the power. Could be the Devil’s Army decided to strike first. The leak could have cut the power to shut down our security system. Fuck,” he swears. “I told Flint...just stay here. Use this if you have to. Keep Kalb quiet. I love you.”
I feel his lips on mine, kissing me hard and fast. Then he’s out the door, shutting it behind him. Gunfire erupts as he runs down the hall, and I feel the air go out of the world.
Chapter Thirteen
Kalb growls, his fur bristling. I put my hand on his back and he quiets a little. I hear a few more gunshots and my adrenaline spikes through the roof. I cross to the window to get a good look at the gun Drifter has just handed me. It’s fully loaded, and I switch off the safety.
I tiptoe to the door and lift the square of fabric over the window. I can’t see anyone in the hallway, but I can hear shouts from downstairs and doors slamming. With a low buzz, a few of the fluorescent lights in the hallway crackle on, lending a sickly glow to the building. Seems like this place has a backup generator that’s just kicked in.
My heart is beating rapidly in my chest and I take a couple of deep breaths. I look down at the gun in my hand, now pointed at the floor. I might be a good shot, but I’ve never had to use a gun in a scenario like this. I’ve only ever pointed a gun at a still target on a range, I don’t have any real-world experience like Drifter does.
Drifter. Fuck, I don’t want to just leave him downstairs like this, with the Devil’s Army probably in the building. Oh god, does that mean Rooster is here? The idea of my psycho husband being anywhere in my vicinity again makes my stomach clench in fear and bile rise up to my mouth. Whoever this fucking leak is, I hope they get what they deserve. I hear another round of gunfire from outside and someone slamming the stairwell door. Kalb starts growling again and I hush him. I decide to hide him under the bed so he doesn’t get hit by any errant gunfire.
I kiss to him and snap my fingers under the bed, indicating what I want him to do. He looks at me confusedly for a second, then gets on his haunches and squeezes himself under the bed. I pet his head quickly and give the “stay” command with my hand. Then I stand up and pull the blanket down so it hits the floor. Maybe it will make Kalb feel safer. He’s not trained in combat, after all, Drifter took him in as a stray. He’s probably just as scared as I am.
Hurrying back to the door, I pull the window fabric aside and peer out. Moments later, I hear running footsteps, and Cherish’s face appears out of the gloom. She’s pursued by Ace, Rooster’s best friend and all around asshole. That means it is the Devil’s Army that’s invading after all. Wherever he is, Rooster won’t be far behind. I grip the gun more tightly in my hand as Cherish passes Drifter’s door, headed for hers. I watch as she pulls open her door across the hall.
Ace shoves his hand in the door as she tries to shut it and forces his way in.
“You fucking bitch!” I hear him yell, and can’t hide any longer. I grab the metal trash can next to Drifter’s dresser and tuck the gun in the back of my jeans. I don’t want to use the gun unless I have to. I quietly open the door and step out into the hall.
I tiptoe over to Cherish’s room. Through the open door I can hear sounds of a struggle, and I peer inside her room. Ace is struggling to hold her from behind as he wraps one hand around her throat.
“Bitch!” he yells and yanks his hand away from her, blood dripping from where she has just bitten him. She turns around and he slaps her hard across the face.
It’s now or never. I tiptoe toward Ace. Out of the corner of my eye I see Cherish’s eyes dart over to me. I raise the trash can over my head with both hands and smash it down as hard as I can against Ace’s skull. I hear a small crack as the metal warps in my hands. He stumbles forward and awkwardly twists to see who has just hit him. His eyes bug out when they spot me.
“Violet,” he sputters, stumbling toward me. I raise the trash can again and swing it across his face. His head jerks to the left and blood flies out of his mouth. He tries to right himself but falls to his knees. His eyes roll back in his head and he slumps face down on the ground.
“Holy shit,” Cherish whispers, eyeing Ace’s prone body. “You know him?”
“He was the best man at my wedding,” I nod grimly as she looks on, shocked, “I don’t really want to get into it.”
“Is he dead?” she asks, walking over to him and peering at his bleeding head. I stick my hand under his neck and feel his pulse. It’s strong.
“He’s just unconscious,” I say, “We need to tie him up in case he comes to.”
Cherish heads to her bedside table and pulls out a pair of handcuffs. I raise my eyebrows at her but she just smiles and shrugs.
“Here, let’s cuff him to the bed,” I suggest. It takes both of us to drag him over to the bed. As Cherish fastens the cuffs over his wrists, I eye her face. Her right eye is swelling from where Ace hit her.
“What did you see down there?” I ask. She shakes her head.
“It was hard to tell,” she answers, sitting back. “I was in the lounge when the lights went out. Then there were gunshots and windows shattering. I saw maybe five guys but there were definitely more coming in the back. I hit this guy with a vodka bottle and ran upstairs when he chased me.”
“So you’re not the leak...” I say with a little smile at her.
“And neither are you,” she adds.
“They caught us with five of our guys on a run,” I say, trying to get my thoughts together. “They know we’re vulnerable right now. The Army is smaller than it used to be, but there were some guys sleeping at home tonight too. They have us outnumbered.”
“I’m sure one of the brothers got word to the ones at home, they should be here soon,” Cherish assures me.
“So we just need to hold them off until then.” My lips are a thin line as I think about the Sons scattered throughout the house, taken by surprise. I stand up and take the gun out of the back of my jeans.
“What are you doing?” Cherish whispers, standing up, too.
“I have a gun and I know how to use it,” I tell her, “I can’t just leave them downstairs without help. It’s my husband’s fucking fault this is happening.”
“I’m sorry about what I said about Drifter. I was jealous,” she whispers urgently.
“It’s OK,” I tell her, “Do you have anything in here you can use as a weapon?”
“Umm...” she looks around and grabs her bedside lamp, pulling the cord out of the wall and yanking off the lampshade.
“Do me a favor,” I say, “Kalb is in Drifter’s room, under the bed. Go in there with him, and if anyone comes in, hurt them. Got it?”
She nods, grasping the stem of the lamp tightly. With a quick glance at the still-unconscious Ace, I push the door open, making sure the hallway is clear. I step out and signal for Cherish to follow me. She shuts her door behind her and we hurry back to Drifter’s door. She slips inside and closes the door after her.
I take a deep breath and hold the gun to my chest with both hands. I creep down the dim hallway, the fluorescents flickering their cold yellow light overhead. I pause at the stairwell door as a round of gunshots ring out from the front yard. What the hell am I headed into?
I pull the stairwell door open slightly and peer down. No one there. I can hear shouting and running footsteps from the third floor. I hustle down the steps, not wanting to get caught by myself here. At the base of the steps, I pause outside the door to the lounge. I can hear yelling and bottles breaking on the other side of the door.
I pull it open and inch and jump back as a bullet pings off the door frame, right by my head. My heart jumps in my chest and I flatten myself to the wall, taking several deep breaths. I wipe my sweaty hands on my pajama bottoms, then crouch down and open the door again.
When no shots ring out, I glance around quickly and run inside, heading straight for the dining room table, which is lying overturned by the kitchen door. I kneel behind it and peer around. The air is smoky, and the only light comes from one fluorescent bulb on the ceiling. I look around, trying to find Drifter or any of the Sons. Finally I spot Tag and someone else, maybe Green, as they peer over the top of the bar toward the front door.
I follow their gaze and see a flash of black leather. Suddenly three heads pop up over a couch by the main entrance. A hail of gunfire pierces the thick wood of the bar. With a deep breath, I aim for the leg of one of the Army members, which he’s carelessly left sticking out. I squeeze the trigger as I breathe out, my father’s training kicking in. I fire three shots and hear the man yell in pain and jerk his leg back as I make contact above his knee.
One of the guy’s heads snaps in my direction and I pull back as he aims at the table, where he now knows I’m hiding. I cover my head as I hear bullets hit the table, thankfully stopped by the solid wood.
As it stops, I hear a shriek from inside the kitchen. Sounds a little like Stephanie. I push the door open with my foot and see a flash of brunette hair flying out of the kitchen door. I take a chance and dash into the kitchen. No one’s there, but I see a streak of blood on the counter. Fuck. I hurry to the back door and cautiously push it open.
The moonlight casts an eerie, almost calm glow on the hill, in complete contrast to the melee happening around me. I hear another scream. It sounds like she’s moving toward the garage, and judging by the blood, she could be injured. I steel myself and dash out the back door. It’s eerie to run across the dark ground. My mind flashes back to the night I ran out here and met Drifter. Drifter. What if he’s been hurt? I can’t let myself think about that now.
I’m drawing closer to the garage. I slow down and draw close to the side of the brick building, then slowly creep toward the open, gaping door.
“Stephanie!” I whisper. No answer. I walk quietly into the dark garage, searching over the half-finished bikes and piles of scrap metal. Either she was injured and came out here to hide, or someone forced her out here. Neither way is good.
I see a faint light coming from inside the office, leaking out from under a mostly closed door in the back of the garage. I crouch over even more and stick to the wall as I make my way back there. I push the door open a few inches more and peer inside. I don’t see anyone, so I push the door open and take a cautious step in, gun still raised.
As I do, my breath catches in my throat. Twitch is lying in a pool of blood on the floor by his desk.
“Oh my god,” I cry, dropping my arms. I’m already thinking through what I need to do to stop the bleeding as I race toward him.
“Freeze,” says a voice from behind me. I stop in my tracks as cool metal touches the base of my neck. The unmistakable feel of a gun barrel. “Slowly turn around.”
My heart sinks as I recognize the voice. I turn around to see Stepha
nie. All innocence is now gone from her face as she calmly holds a gun to my head.
“Thanks so much for setting me up with Twitch,” she says, smiling coldly. “It’s amazing the kind of secrets men will tell you after sex, especially one so desperate for pussy. Now slowly put your gun on the floor, and kick it over to the door.”
I comply, my knees shaking as I bend to place the Beretta on the ground and softly kick it toward the door. I feel like I’m in a bad dream.
“Why are you doing this? The club was good to you,” I whisper.
“You think I want to end up with some fucking nerd like Twitch? Uh-uh. My heart’s belonged to another since long before I got here. And he’s a real man,” she spits at me. “He came to me because you couldn’t keep him happy.”
“Oh my god...Rooster? You’re talking about Rooster?” I ask, horrified.
“Yep. And after I’ve helped him take over this club, he’s going to make me his old lady!” she exclaims proudly.
To my surprise, a burst of laughter rips out of my mouth.
“What the fuck are you laughing at?” she shouts, shoving her gun at me.
“Why in the hell would you want to be Rooster’s old lady? I mean, you must have absolutely no idea what he’s really like. You want him to control you? You want him to fuck every woman that catches his eye? You want him to beat you? To break your nose? Well, be my guest!” I hiss the last words at her, the smile disappearing from my face.
“You have no idea what he’s really like! He loves me!” she yells back at me, her face twisting with rage.
“Stephanie, he will say whatever he needs to to get what he wants. He is insane,” I say, trying to contain my anger and find a way to reason with her. “Please, just let me help Twitch, OK?” I make a small step toward him.
