Sweet Revenge (The Nighthawks MC Book 2)

by Bella Knight

  They went over to the club, helped Henry set up the whiteboard on a wall, and helped Tito hang the projector. There were now kid-sized chairs, from small to medium, around kid-sized tables. A third table, a half-octagon, had baby seats integrated into it, and a cutout for the teacher to feed or play with the little ones.

  There were also low shelves, starting to be populated with children’s books.

  “Been wiping out secondhand stores all over town,” said Henry, proudly, “next we’ll get some easels so the kids can paint or draw. My father could draw a coyote to look like it was standing right there.”

  “Wow,” said Lily, “I’m good at stick figures,” she said cheerfully. Henry laughed.

  They told him about the Californian Pacific Coast Highway and the New Orleans ride, “Could be we raise some money, make it a rally, hell, make both of ‘em really,” said Henry, “raise money for Elena, maybe. She needs three or four more surgeries.”

  “Sounds good,” said Ace.

  “What’s a rally?” asked Lily.

  “Well,” said Henry, “a whole lot of us get together and go somewhere. We usually do it to raise money, like for the Red Cross or Forgotten Warriors.”

  Ace nodded, “One for the surgeries for Elena and one for Forgotten Warriors?”

  Henry nodded, “Lots of us are vets. What about the surgery one being California and Forgotten Warriors being New Orleans? We could raise money to get those new 3D printed arms with fingers that move to warriors. Those bendy metal legs, too.”

  Henry stuck his head out of the room, “Bonnie!”

  Bonnie popped in, with a young, black woman in tow. She had haunted eyes and was the approximate size of a stick figure.

  Henry told her the idea, “Yeah, me and Keisha here can set that up with Ghost.”

  “Hey,” said Keisha, “you must be Ace. Letitia told me you take care of me.”

  “Yeah, I did,” said Ace, “you okay with Bonnie?”

  “Yeah,” she said, “she teachin’ me how to fix a bike. And we adopted some dogs be needin’ homes.”

  “Good!” said Ace.

  “She’s also a crack shot,” said Bonnie, “took her to the shooting range yesterday.”

  “That’s great,” said Ace, “thanks, Bonnie.”

  “Sisters gotta stick together, right, Keisha?”

  Keisha nodded, brown eyes huge in her face, “Yeah. Sistas rule!”

  “Let’s go feed you,” said Bonnie, “You’re gonna blow away if we put you on a bike.”

  “I could eat,” said Keisha.

  Henry waited until Bonnie and her charge was gone, “What the hell… you taking on Leticia’s strays? She is a stone-crazy bitch, worse than Big Mike ever was.”

  “I was covering for Lily’s brother,” said Ace.

  “The drugs,” said Lily, “he still had some.”

  She stood and swore for a full minute, describing what she would do to her brother when he got out of rehab. Some of them made Ace and Henry wince.

  “What did you do?” asked Henry, when Lily wound down, “or what did her brother do?”

  “He took about ten large of Big Mike’s drugs and snorted it or smoked it or something.”

  There were some left?” asked Lily. Ace nodded, “in my fucking house?” Her voice hit the stratosphere.

  “Quite a bit, actually. And no, they were in a storage locker at a health club. He had only two dime bags in your house. I gave them all back to Leticia and took on one of her strays in exchange for a favor.”

  “Hmm,” said Henry, “could come in handy someday.”

  “Yep,” said Ace.

  Henry thought a minute, “You do realize Leticia and Big Mike now think that we’re running drugs?”

  “May keep them out of our territory,” said Ace, “they also think we run guns.”

  “As long as they don’t ask us for any when their supply runs out,” said Henry.

  “That’s Big Mike and Leticia,” said Ace, “their supplies will never run out. I also inferred that Devlin is dead.”

  “Gotta have him exit that rehab in the middle of the night and run him out of town,” said Henry, “I think Tito and Gregory can handle it.”

  “Gregory may kill him for endangering his Nighthawks sister,” said Ace.

  “Good!” said Lily.

  “That boy does well with a baseball bat,” said Henry.

  Both men smiled.

  Henry thought more and said, “Think if we send Numa, we can send him to the Northern Paiute Nation.”

  “Where the hell is that?” asked Lily, “Wyoming?”

  “Oregon, in this case,” said Henry, “if we can prevent Gregory from killing him with a baseball bat, it may work well.”

  Lily threw up her hands, “Do whatever the hell you need to,” said Lily, “he’s no longer my brother until he’s been sober for a good, long time. Then he can think about —think about —trying to apologize.”

  “It’s called making amends, not an apology,” said Henry, “and we have people who can help him.”

  Lily stared at Henry, “Why would you help my miserable excuse for a brother?”

  Henry shrugged, “I needed help once. My sister and the Paiute Nation, helped me.” Henry and Ace shared a laugh.

  “What’s so funny?” said Lily.

  “Her name, Numa, is Northern Paiute for ‘person’ or ‘Paiute’” said Henry, “she is all of our people in one!”

  “Actions and consequences, it’s the way of it.”

  7

  Consequences

  Crotch Rocket Returns

  “Things are getting explosive!”

  Ace and Lily tended bar together. Lily was paying back Ace for the bike faster than she’d ever thought possible. On Thursday morning, she called the rehab to find out how much they charged. She hung up the phone, dejected.

  “Why the sourpuss face?” asked Ace, walking into the kitchen in only shorts.

  His hair was wet from the shower. He took out eggs, cheddar cheese, and maple bacon.

  “I found out how much the rehab costs. It would take me years to pay that off! The bike cost half that!”

  “Lucky we’re together for the long haul,” said Ace, “you can help the club, you know. Do stuff. Stuff we’d have to pay other people for. Earn some of it back that way,” her eyes gleamed, “as long as it doesn’t interfere with rides, and you get enough sleep, and you don’t go anywhere alone. That bitch is still out of prison,” he said, pointing a whisk at her.

  He thought about the paper he had in his left saddlebag, the one he wanted his mother to sign, giving him custody of Keiran, “And no interfering with stuff we’ve got to do with Keiran.”

  “Aren’t you full of rules today!” said Lily, deftly peeling an orange.

  “I want you alive and healthy,” he said, leaning over the counter, and kissing her, “what are you doing today?”

  “Well, Tito is taking me to the gun range. Gregory will meet us there.”

  “Be a stupid son-of-a-bitch who tries to take you out at a gun range,” he said, putting the bacon on to fry.

  “Exactly,” said Lily, “what are you going to do?”

  “Gregory got his hands on eight netbooks, you know, the little computers.”

  Lily snorted, peeling another orange, “I know what a netbook is, you moron!”

  Ace flipped the bacon, “Hey, the guy with hot bacon grease here. Be nice or I won’t cook breakfast for you.”

  Lily put an orange slice in her mouth, creating an orange smile. Ace laughed, “Anyway, he got them nearly free, ‘cos no one uses netbooks anymore. I’m setting them up and rigging them so some little thieves don’t run off with them.”

  Ace sliced the hot bacon with scissors and put the bacon into the omelet. He then shredded cheese on top and snipped some chives on top of that. He waited a moment and flipped the omelet. He took two of the oranges, sliced them, and juiced them directly into two juice glasses. He slid the omelet onto a plate, put half on
another plate, added the bacon.

  “Breakfast is served!”

  They ate in silence, occasionally stopping to touch hands or to kiss. They took turns brushing their teeth, then Lily donned her leathers and put the gun in its ankle holster. Ace watched her out the kitchen window as she got on her bike just as Gregory pulled in. He opened the window and waved. Gregory made a little salute and followed his girl out of the lot.

  They made a good time to the shooting range. Tito was super patient, walking her through loading the gun, sighting, breathing out, pulling the trigger, emptying the clip, and checking her target. He helped her adjust her stance and aim. She shot just outside the center circle and was getting good at shooting center mass.

  Gregory was pushed over by a huge guy. Gregory avoided stepping on Lily, but he brushed her back where her Poison T-shirt was riding up. He stopped and stepped back. Lily realized what he was doing, handed the gun to Tito, and pulled up the back of her shirt. Tito and Gregory both looked, then Tito handed the gun back to her and had her empty another clip.

  They hit up Soul Food Kitchen for the catfish lunch special, “Just ask,” she said, when Tito and Gregory looked at each other, then at her.

  “The tats are good work. The club uses a guy, Franco, at a place near the clubs, for our tats. You can get one to cover that big section. Bet he could do something with it,” he took a drink of soda, then looked her in the eye, “what the fuck happened to give you those scars?”

  “Dad,” said Lily, she saw both of them clench their jaws, “he’s dead, guys. I was saving up to buy a gun. There was this kid at school, think he was packing. Was going to try to buy it from him. Then Monster Dad got sick, real sick. Smoked and drank himself to death. Devlin, the fucking idiot, and I, ended up in foster care. We weren’t together much. He got good grades. He’s smart, you know? Got a free ride to college.”

  She sipped her Coke, “I got a partial scholarship, worked like a dog, in diners, then cocktails. Took a bartender’s course, too. Took me five years to get through business school. Finance. Got that stupid job at the insurance agency. Like what I do at Dirty Rock much better. So, now you have the whole story.”

  “Papi was kind,” said Tito, “said whoever hurts a woman, will go to hell forever. He loved my Mamacita; he worshipped her. I joined the marines after he died, sent money home. Still, do.”

  “My stepdad hit my mom,” said Gregory, “came home from baseball practice. Son-of-a-bitch was hitting her again. I wound up, took a swing. Broke his shoulder. Told my mom that me and my little sister didn’t need to see that shit. Told her to kick his ass out forever, or I would finish the job. I went over to take another swing, and she agreed. Not for us, but to save him. Didn’t figure that part out until I was older. I joined up to get my sister through school, pay for what she needs. She’s in the Marines now,” said Gregory.

  “Semper fi,” said Tito.

  “Oo-rah,” said Gregory, “we don’t talk to my mom. She took up with some other piece of shit about a minute after my sister enlisted. Told my ma she’s worth better, and when she figures that out, to give me a call, and I’d get her out of there.”

  “Hero!” said Lily, and smiled at him.

  “Nah,” said Gregory, “you gotta do what’s right, or get the fuck out.”

  “Also-fuckin-lately,” said Tito.

  “We can teach you stuff, stuff no fitness instructor in his right mind would teach you,” said Gregory, “nobody’s going to hurt our sister with us around, but you gotta be ready for anything. You work in a bar, you know.”

  “When?” she said.

  “I would do it now, but I’ve got to go,” said Tito, “I work swing security at Bellagio.”

  Gregory smiled, “We can go at it tomorrow. There’s a gym near the club, about three blocks south.”

  “I’ve driven by it,” said Lily, “eleven-ish?”

  “You’re on,” said Gregory.

  The gym was a fight club, a place for weights and some machines, but mostly light and heavy bags, jump ropes, mats, and two separate fight rings. Gregory taught her as he would his own sister.

  “The thing is, don’t be where the punch is,” said Gregory.

  He showed her how to fall, how to roll. He taught her to bite her shirt to remember to tuck her head. Then, he showed her to get out of holds, and how to twist her body. He showed her how to use her opponent’s weight and speed as leverage. By the time she was done, she was dripping with sweat and bruised, but grinning widely.

  “Go shower,” he said.

  She was done before him, which surprised her. She watched a bout. A tiny woman with cornrows was wiping the floor with a big white MMA guy.

  Gregory came up behind her, “Who the hell is she?” said Lily in awe.

  “Latasha is a fighter and a trainer,” said Gregory, “you’re not in her league.”

  “Yet,” said Lily. Gregory laughed.

  They took a side door, as their bikes were off to the side. Lily saw right away that the stupid crotch-rocket was parked right next to their Harleys. She knelt and took the .22 out of her ankle holster. That saved her life, as two shots hit above her.

  Gregory dived off to the side, pulling his own gun out of his pocket. Lily got her gun, aimed, and fired. The Crotch Rocket Guy cried out as Lily hit him in the shoulder. The bark of Gregory’s .44 was deafening. The man fell and was still.

  Fighters poured out of the club. Latasha looked Lily up and down, “Girl, your head is bleeding,” she said, “Danny, go get the fucking first aid kit. Marie, call 911. Xavier, go check on the deader. Don’t get too close. Got to leave the scene intact.”

  A tall man with carrot-red hair and green eyes ran up to them, “Everyone okay? I saw the whole fucking thing. I was pulling up.”

  “So, did that,” said Latasha, looking up. There was a camera right over the doorway.

  Gregory and Lily both holstered their weapons. Gregory looked down at her ear, “Looks like...” he looked back at the wall, “yep, a chip from the wall from where the bullet hit nicked your ear.”

  Lily looked a bit shocked.

  He reached out, grabbed her arm, helped her upright, “You hit anywhere else?” he said, looking her up and down.

  “No,” she said. She reached up. There was a small notch missing in her ear.

  “Your girlfriend’s lucky,” said Latasha.

  “Not my girlfriend,” said Gregory.

  “Oh, shit,” said Lily, “Ace is going to go ballistic.”

  “We don’t tell him,” said Gregory, “until we can get everyone together.”

  “Mommy dearest is going down!” said Lily.

  “Abso-fucking-lutely,” said Gregory, determined.

  Gregory texted Ivy and gave her the down low. The cops showed up, confiscated the guns, took gunshot residue swabs, and got the video from the camera to the side door. Gregory and Lily were interviewed separately. Lily suggested they call Detective Hernandez and Special Agent Guerrero. One of them got Hernandez on the phone, and the financial crimes cop was over in fifteen minutes with her very own crime scene investigator. She had the video from the crotch-rocket’s drive by the station, although they didn’t get a license plate or see the guy’s face.

  She came back after talking with the investigator, “Who is he?” asked Lily.

  “Bannon Murphy. A small-time hood, did a dime for armed robbery, been out six months. Same caliber as the weapon used to kill your boyfriend’s father. They’re digging the slug aimed at you and comparing it to the two slugs taken out of Mr. Dolan Senior’s brain. Looks like we have our killer.”

  “Probably,” said Lily, “but who aimed him?”

  Ivy showed up, and demanded that Lily be taken to an urgent care for a look at her ear. Gregory came over. He was released from the police because both the witness and the video from the camera showed that he acted in self-defense, and the same crotch-rocket caught on video from Lily’s visit to the police station was right next to their bikes.

/>   “Why isn’t Lily with a doctor?” asked Gregory.

  “That’s what I said,” said Ivy.

  “Go ahead,” said Hernandez.

  Ivy drove her to the same urgent care that she had visited with her brother, called “Angels Care.”

  Doctor Banerjee was there, “Don’t need a stitch,” she said, spraying something on the ear and taping it up, “you’ve already stopped bleeding.”

  “Thanks, Doc,” said Lily, “any word on my brother?”

  “He is very ill,” said Doctor Banerjee, “his teeth are rotting, and he has liver damage. If you hadn’t brought him in, he would have died in a year.”

  Ivy whistled, “Sorry, Lily.”

  Lily waved a hand, “Figured. Glad he’s alive.”

  “We will keep him that way,” said the doctor.

  “Thank you, Doc,” said Lily.

  “Were you shot because of your brother?” asked the doctor.

  “No, my boyfriend’s mother. She offed her husband, and she can’t get to Ace, my boyfriend, so she sent someone after me.”

  “My goodness,” said Doctor Banerjee, “I do not think you need so much stress in your life.”

  “Neither do I,” said Lily.

  “We’ll keep her safe,” said Ivy.

  “See that you do,” said Doctor Banerjee.

  She was sent home with an antibiotic ointment and special bandages, after getting some naproxen sodium for the pain. Ivy texted Ace, telling him that Lily didn’t feel well after overdoing it at the gym with Gregory… and to open without her.

  Gregory picked up Lily and took her home. She relaxed in the recliner. She laughed when he went into Ace’s bedroom and came out with the Louisville Slugger Ace had under the bed. They watched stupid things on television until Lily slept.

  Ace came home at three in the morning, “What the fuck?” he said, when he saw the bandage on Lily’s ear.

  “I’ll tell you,” said Gregory, “but you can’t wake her up.”

  Ace got his face under control, “Lay it on me.”