by Blue Remy
It was as if the angels themselves heard her cry of anguish and wept with her. The heavens opened up and spilled its own tears, lightning ripping through the sky when a summer storm took hold of the rural area.
“Put the gun down, Amy, before you hurt yourself.” Demon cajoled. “Put it down or I’ll shoot you, too.”
Thunder cracked overhead and her heart pounded in her ears. All she saw in her mind’s eye was her father falling over, followed by Maggie having the seizure that took her life.
“I’m going to enjoy killing you.” Amy yelled through gritted teeth, trying not to let her grief overwhelm her, to use it for anger and avenge Stone and Maggie’s deaths.
“Amy! Stop! Put the gun down!”
A voice registered in her brain, her heart quickened a beat when she looked toward the voice.
Mace.
Amy tightened her hand around the gun, allowing it to bite into her palm, keeping her in a reality check. She looked back to Demon, raising her other hand to cup her right. She wanted to see Demon bleed, to see him take his last breath, like she had watched Maggie and her father do.
“Amy, baby. Listen to me. Lower the gun. You don’t want to go to jail for killing him.” Mace pleaded with Amy.
Through her tears, she never took her gaze off of Demon, though she shook her head at Mace. “No one would know if I kill him.” She rocked her feet apart, taking the stance one would take to shoot targets. “It’s just club here. No witnesses.” She never blinked. She squeezed the trigger, the bullet grazing Demon’s shoulder, knocking him back a few steps.
“You bitch!” Demon laughed, shifting his weight back, so he stood straight once more. “Quit fucking crying over spilled milk. Stone wasn’t worthy of being the president of the club. Wasn’t worth a pot to piss in. He was getting too fucking old for this shit. He wasn’t up with the times. The club needs new blood and I can bring that.”
“So you raped, beat and tortured Maggie? You killed her.” Amy screamed.
Demon laughed again, shaking his head. “You don’t have the balls to kill me. You’re nothing more than a whore, just like Maggie.”
Amy breathed in, held her breath and squeezed the trigger. The second bullet hit where she aimed. His knee.
Demon yelped in pain, tumbling to the wet blacktop, screaming obscenities at Amy.
Amy felt nothing seeing Demon lay there, grasping at his nonexistent kneecap. That ended when Mace drew down on her and ordered her to lower her gun.
Confusion filled her as her tears continued to fall. “You’re sticking up for this piece of shit? He fucking killed Maggie! She died begging me to save you and Dad and you’re going to defend him?”
“He is not worth going to jail, Amy! Drop the fucking gun! Now!” Mace’s voice took on an authority Amy had never heard from him before.
Demon pointed his gun at Amy as he struggled to rise on his feet once more. “I’m going to fucking kill you, you bitch!
Amy ignored Demon and stared at Mace. His face had darkened with an unreadable emotion. A pang hit her when realization slowly dawned, a nagging at the back of her brain. “You sound like a cop.”
Mace grimaced and lowered his head slightly. “Because I am.”
His answer echoed through her. She didn’t want to believe what he admitted. She breathed in shallow, quick breaths, unable to grasp the heavy reality of the situation and the direction it had turned.
“I fucking knew it!” Demon beat his forehead with the heel of his palm, the gun rattling with the motion. “I fucking knew you were a pig!”
Everything about Mace was a lie. She had fallen in love with a ghost. He wasn’t who he said he was. Was everything he said to her, what they had done—was it all lies? She only half listened to the two men as she struggled with her conscience. She had given herself to this man. Heart and soul, and he had been lying to her since day one. Was she just a tool in his game? Get close to her, get the guns?
“I’m such an idiot.” She turned her head to look at Mace, who pointed his gun at her. “I believed you! I believed everything! I gave myself to you!”
Mace shook his head, his jaw clenching before his spoke. “Amy, I only lied about my name. Don’t give up on me now. What did I tell you this morning?”
Amy turned her body slightly as she screamed at Mace, “You. Lied.”
Everything was a blur, slow motion that felt like an eternity when she heard a roar from Demon. Turning to face him, her eyes widened. She saw his trigger finger twitch, the muzzle of his gun flashed orange. Before a thought could register what had happened, Mace’s body crashed into hers, sending her flying to the side.
Amy saw stars when her head cracked against asphalt, fighting consciousness. A thunk was heard with a grunt of pain as a second gunshot echoed in her ears. Her vision blacked out for a moment, slowly clearing as she blinked away rain and tears, and struggled to push up from the ground. Lifting her hand, she started to shake, seeing her palm was red.
Hearing sirens, she saw club running toward her and the fallen. Several bikes roared away from the scene, unmarked vehicles screeching to a halt before the bikes, followed by local police and ambulances, forcing the bikes to stop.
Turning her gaze from the chaos, she saw Mace, or whoever he was, lying in a growing pool of blood. Demon lay opposite of them, a single ribbon of blood trickling down from the hole in his head. Rolling to her knees, her vision swimming, she crawled over to him, collapsing next to him, struggling to pull him to her.
“Mace?” Amy wept as she brushed his wet hair from his face, the pale silver eyes staring at her. “Please, God—don’t you die on me, too. I can’t do this. Please. You owe me the truth.” Tears spilled over her lashes as she tried to contain her sob, but it escaped anyway.
She couldn’t breathe, her chest too tight, as if she had been shot and was slowly dying. A raw and primitive grief overwhelmed her while she stared at him, trying to understand what just happened as her hand covered the gaping wound in his chest.
“Damn it! Mace! Stay with me! I’ve lost everyone, damn you!” Amy’s whole body shook, her throat closing as her anguish went beyond any form of physical pain.
She refused to move while the medics jumped out of the ambulance and rushed over to them. They had to physically remove her hand from his wound to rip his shirt open to see the extent of damage. As they placed electric pads on his chest to monitor him, Mace’s breathing grew labored and shallow, almost wheezing.
“He’s taking blood in his lungs, get an airway going. We need to airlift him! Call it in!”
Amy ignored the brothers surrounding her, only focused on the man she had loved. The pain in her heart became sick and fiery, gnawing as his hand touched the side of her face.
“I never lied about loving you.” Mace swallowed and stared into her eyes.
The resolve in his eyes shattered what little heart she had left. All hope vanished when his hand dropped and his head slowly rolled to the side. His eyes became vacant and listless, his lips a tint of blue.
“No—no!” Amy felt hands against her, trying to pull her away from Mace. She fought like a hellcat, grabbing at Mace’s cold hand and placing it back against her cheek, only to have it fall lifeless to the ground. “NO! Mace!” Amy grasped at the last straw of reality and his hand, trying to get him to touch her and tell her he was still lying.
He didn’t respond.
He didn’t move.
Mason Younger would never tell her he loved her again.
CHAPTER 29
Amy’s world was black and white. No color existed since that fateful night two weeks ago. All she did was go through the everyday motions. Get up, feed horses, ride, eat, sleep, repeat.
Romeo moved back to the rebuilt ranch, Amy stayed at Mace’s, or Sam Dean, ATF agent, as she found out at his funeral. Three funerals in three days was almost more than she could handle. No one whispered a word about the truth behind Maggie’s death to Thorne. Maggie’s funeral had been beautifully done, with hu
ndreds of people flocking to the site to give their condolences.
Stone’s funeral was a bit more dramatic, every club member from every chapter showed up, Romeo pulled the casket behind his bike to the cemetery. Hundreds of people milled around the clubhouse at the wake, though Amy remembered almost none of it. A closed casket funeral was requested, wanting people to remember him for how he had been.
Only three people showed up to Mace’s funeral. Amy, Antonia and Agent Jones. The casket was in the grave when they arrived, Agent Jones waiting for them. He told her Agent Dean had left her everything in his will, since he had no family.
She spilled everything to Romeo as she wept on his shoulder, unable to cope with having lost everyone important to her. Romeo was sentenced to prison along with several members of the club for illegal gun trading, but Jones stood up for them, telling the DA this was an orchestrated maneuver with the ATF to bring down local members of the Temer Gallo.
They all got lucky and had no clue why, only Romeo. Strangely enough, Romeo had taken the news better than she had. He went on with his life, tucking his emotions neatly inside himself and running the club like Stone had.
A surprise came the day after Sam’s funeral. She hadn’t wanted to get out of bed. Romeo asked Antonia to stay with Amy for a while, until she could function properly. She had been kicked out of bed, forced to get dressed and almost held down and force fed coffee and breakfast.
The doorbell was her reprieve from Antonia playing Mother Theresa. Swinging open the door, expecting one of the brothers checking up on her, she was hit with confusion at the cowboy standing there. Behind him was a truck and a horse trailer attached to it.
Another blow, this one from the grave.
Sam had bought Amy a prize Quarter Horse. The horse was aptly named Whiskey Outlaw, which had her in near tears. The delivery man handed her an envelope and drove off, leaving her alone in the barn with the horse. Opening the envelope, she pulled out a letter addressed to her.
Amy,
By now, you know the truth. I meant every word I said to you. I love you and always will. Whiskey is a gift for you to remember me by, to never forget I adore you and will always cherish the gift you had given me: unconditional love.
I will always love you,
Sam Dean
Amy crumpled the letter, her heart breaking all over again. She thought she was done with tears, but she was proven wrong once again. She left the barn and didn’t return, allowing the ranch hands to attend to the horses.
* * * *
Two weeks later, she was ready. She had to quit feeling sorry for herself and live her life. She had to suck it up and get over it, move on. Her first step was to visit the barn and actually look over Whiskey. The hands had been saddling Phaedra for her, keeping out of the barn completely.
Today was different.
She was trying to start fresh, to not see Mace everywhere she turned. To hear his laugh and look around, only to realize it was all in her head. That first step into the barn to look the horse in the face was so hard.
She found an old shirt, and slipped it on as she made her way out to the barn. She knew she looked odd, long sleeved shirt, shorts and boots, hair up in a ponytail, but she wasn’t in a fashion contest, so who cared?
Making her way into the barn, she walked over to Whiskey’s stall. He stuck his head out from the open section, hearing her near. “Well, aren’t you a beauty.” He was seventeen hands tall, and the color of aged whiskey, a beautiful chestnut coloring she hadn’t seen on a Quarter Horse before. Reaching up, she ran her hand gently down his nose, laughing when he swung his head up, nudging her hand for treats.
“Oh, the boys have been spoiling you, haven’t they?” Stepping away, Whiskey nickered softly as she scooped up some hot mix granola for him to munch on. Carrying over the pail, she held it as he shoved his nose into the metal bucket and started munching on the mix. Amy sighed tragically as she rubbed the top of his head, watching his ears move, listening to all of the sounds around them. “Observant, too. How well do you ride though?”
“Pretty damn good from what I heard.”
Amy grew completely still. Her eyes misted as her breath quickened. She was hearing shit again. Was this ever going to end? Would she hear him randomly for the rest of her life? Clamping her eyes shut, she squeezed out the unshed tears and let out an exasperated breath.
“You’re losing it, Ames. You’ve got to pull yourself together. This shit is going to get old quick.” She muttered to herself, shaking her head clear of everything that could be considered clutter. “Maybe I need to start meditating.”
“I hear sex is better to relieve stress.”
Her head jerked up as all breath left her. Lowering the pail, she turned toward the back of the barn. A shadowed shape stood in the open doorway, darkened by the sun at its back. Brows furrowed as every fiber in her screamed it was Mace standing there. Impossible! He had died right before her eyes.
“Scratch that. I need a fucking shrink or a priest.” She was certifiable. Not only was she hearing crap, she was now projecting images of Mace. Was he going to become her imaginary BFF?
“Let me get a marriage certificate before you call a priest. At least make it worth his while.”
Amy dropped the pail. Images around her began to swim out of focus. Closing her eyes, she breathed in deep and slowly exhaled, reopening her eyes. The figured moved deeper into the barn, darkness melting away from the body.
“Mace!” Amy screamed as she ran toward him, flying into his arms. Through tears, she cupped his face and planted kisses all over any exposed skin. He was alive! Her whole shattered gray world blossomed with color as she showered him with affection.
He. Was. Alive.
It took a moment for her brain to catch up to her heart, but when it did, anger heated her to her very core. Pulling back, she glared at him. “You’re fucking alive?” She yelled at his smiling face. “What the hell!” Pulling back her right arm, she swung forward, her weight moving with her, the feeling of her knuckles cracking against his chin was euphoric.
He grabbed her wrist as his head snapped to the side, those beautiful pale ice-like eyes narrowing. “I’m alive. But we’ve got to talk, Amy. There are things you need to know.”
“How could you do that to me? You lied to me, then you let me believe you were dead? You willed everything to me? What the fuck?” Amy yanked her wrist away, the conflict of emotions ripping her apart. She didn’t know whether to be pissed off or jump his damn bones. He looked the same, except his hair was gone. The dark tawny locks were cut boyishly, messy and rather fitting for an agent. And he was clean shaven. But he was still Mace.
Mace took her hand and gently pulled her out of the barn, toward a blacked out SUV. “Someone from the club came to us, asking us to take down the club members who were placing everyone in danger. They helped train me in club life and they brought me to the club with the name Mason Younger. I was supposed to bring down everyone, Amy.”
“Who came? Why would they turn on their family?” Amy stared at Mace in total disbelief. “What am I supposed to even call you?”
“Agent Sam Dean died that day, Amy. That’s why everything is willed to you. Mason Younger was brought back to life in the helicopter and survived the surgery to get the bullet out. Romeo made sure I had the best doctors taking care of me.”
Amy put on the brakes at the passenger door of the SUV, staring at Mace in total disbelief. “Romeo was the rat? He knew the whole time? He let my father get killed?” Her voice grew in volume as she tried to comprehend what Mace was telling her. There was no way her brother would turn on the very club that raised him.
Mace stepped around her and pulled open the back passenger door. “Someone wants to see you.”
Brows furrowed as she stepped around Mace to look into the dark vehicle. Stepping up and into it, the door closed as she let out a shriek. “Daddy!”
Stone sat in the back of the SUV, his arm in a sling, but very much ali
ve. She must have died. This was heaven. It had to be. “Ames, we don’t have a ton of time, but I asked him to bring me here to say goodbye.”
“Goodbye? You’re alive! What the hell is going on?” Amy cried, already having enough of the games.
“I’m the one who went to the ATF, Amy. I knew Demon was selling our plans to Muerte and it had to be stopped.” Stone held up his hand to shush Amy before she could speak. “I did it to keep you and Romeo safe, Amy. I lost Gail, I wasn’t going to lose you, too. Demon would have killed you in the end, which he almost did. I was wearing a flack vest. He never got me, until he shot my arm.” He lifted up the arm in a sling. “Mace and I told Romeo what was going on the morning you walked in on us. He had to know what we were dealing with. The ATF has put me into protective custody. This is the last we’ll see of each other, but you’re going to be okay. You have Mace to look after you.”
Amy shook her head as her dad filled her in on everything. Romeo had let her believe he was dead, that they were dead. How was he holding it all in? How did he not explode?
The door opened, Mace stuck his head in. “We need to get him out of here, Amy. It’s not safe here.”
She nodded, blinking back the water works. This was getting old, but at least he was alive. Sniffling, she leaned toward him, kissing his scruffy cheek. “I love you, Daddy.”
Climbing out of the SUV, she turned to face Mace. “The club knows you’re alive? Or just Romeo?”
Mace rubbed the top of his head, dimples showing as he grinned at her. “They all know. Romeo told them the FBI stepped in and used me to prosecute the Temer Gallo. They don’t know anything else. I’d prefer it stay that way—that is, if you’ll let me come home?”
Amy looked away, lips rolling between her teeth, trying to not cry, yet again. Hands set to her hips as she looked at him, slowly shaking her head. “If you’re late for dinner, the posse will be out looking for you.”
