Saving the Preacher's Daughter (Dogs of Fire: Savannah Chapter #1)

by Piper Davenport

  “Wake the fuck up! It’s your turn to get the firewood,” I heard a voice bellow from inside.

  “What the hell, motherfucker! I was asleep, you prick,” Spiked whined in protest.

  “Well, you ain’t asleep now, so get up and go get some firewood from the shed.”

  “Okay, keep it down, Bull, I’m hung over as hell.”

  “No shit, asshole! That’s because you snuck out and got hammered last night.”

  “Not this shit all over again. It ain’t a big deal. I told you last night, it was just me and a bunch of our crew... and some Devil’s Sons. It’s Barneys man, nobody’s gonna fuck with me there. It’s safe.”

  “Safe, my ass, and that ain’t the point! Prez told you stay low for a while and he told me to keep eyes on you at all times. If he knew you were out on the fuckin’ town last night, it’d be both our asses, not to mention what Mr. Aljets would do.”

  “Two things brother. First, I don’t answer to that Aljets prick, and second, he didn’t see me last night.”

  “You’d better hope no one else did either.”

  “I told you, the place was filled with friendly faces. It was all Predators and Sons... except for a few Raptors and a handful of those Dogs pussies.”

  “There were Dogs there?”

  I heard Bull’s tone change sharply.

  “Which Dogs?” A third voice asked.

  “I dunno. I saw that Gator prick there, and a couple other guys. Some pretty boy dickhead too.”

  “Pretty boy? Are you talking about Dash?” Bull asked slowly.

  “I dunno. That could have been his name. He came up to the bar and was acting like a badass. Fuck him and fuck the Dogs of Fire.”

  “You fucking redneck idiot! The Dogs of Fire were the first ones to arrive at the church after you and Tucker shot the place to hell. Dash and his crew have already been questioned by the cops and are now apparently poking around.”

  “So the fuck what?”

  “If Dash and the Dogs have sniffed you out, Mr. Aljets will find out, and take care of you himself.”

  “I ain’t afraid of him and I ain’t afraid of some chicken shit club! Aljets hired us to kill them church people and make it look like some random shoot up and that’s what we did. It ain’t my fault the Dogs showed up, and it ain’t my fault that killing the old man didn’t solve all of Aljet’s problems.”

  “What about that dead little girl, you piece of shit? Whose fault was that?”

  “C’mon man, this again? I already told you that was an accident. Me and Tucker fired off a few rounds and one of ’em went through the wall and hit that little girl.”

  I heard Bull spit at Spike. “You’re a piece of shit, and patch or no patch, you’re gonna fucking answer for this someday.”

  “We was just doin’ what the prez and that Aljets fucker said to do. Make it look random!”

  “Then why shoot the preacher five times? Don’t you think that makes him look like the intended target?”

  “I dunno, I just hated that smug old bastard. Why wouldn’t he just sell that old church? He was standing in the way of the club makin’ a lot of money, Bull, and I’m sick of running small time jobs. This thing with Aljets and them Torrance guys is big time, and the club stands to make more money than we ever seen. That stubborn fucker got what was coming and I’d do it again.”

  I could barely hear what Bull said next. The loud pulse of blood rushing to my head drowning out the sounds around me. My blood boiled and I had to focus on staying perfectly still to keep myself from leaping through the open window and choking Spike to death.

  “Just go get the firewood and I’ll go wake up fuckup number two,” Bull said. “The Prez and the VP are coming by and I sure as shit ain’t making breakfast.”

  I quietly sprung for the tree line before Spike made his way out the back door. I could spy him through the trees, heading for a small woodshed, near where their bikes were parked. I also spotted something else about twenty yards away from the house that gave me an idea. I made my way back to Badger and clued him in on the plan.

  “Okay, I need you to go hide out by the chain that’s blocking the road. With any luck, in a few minutes Spike is goin’ to come haulin’ ass down the road and will need to drop the chain to get out. When he does, lay low and be ready.”

  “Ready for what?” Badger asked.

  “To lock up behind him after he leaves.” I smiled and patted him on the back before heading for my bike.

  I quietly rolled it as far down the road as I could before reaching the chain. I could just make out Badger’s burly frame hidden in the leaves and brush, and gave him a nod before positioning myself. I straddled my bike and drew my pistol. There was enough light to see Spike gathering wood from the shed and my intended target; a five-hundred-gallon propane tank.

  I fired off three rounds in quick succession before penetrating the tank which erupted in a glorious ball of flame. The windows of the cabin were instantly blown out and the shockwave of the massive blast sent Spike to his ass, firewood toppling on him as he fell. However, he didn’t stay down for long, which is exactly what I was counting on. He scrambled to his feet, and I fired up my bike, revving the throttle in order to get his attention. He spotted me and did exactly as I’d hoped, and went straight for his bike, which was parked just by the shed. He raced toward me as I took off for the highway. He stopped, unhooked the chain gate and continued his pursuit. Badger’s job was to hang the chain back up as soon as Spike was out of sight, in order to delay the rest of his crew.

  I flew down the road at top speed. I knew Spike would be armed; hell, I was counting on it, and I also figured his bike would be fast, so my head start was crucial. What Badger, or any of my other club members didn’t know was that I had an ace hidden up my sleeve. Well, technically she was hidden behind the Shake Shack where the highway meets Old Mill road. I voice activated my blue tooth and when she answered, yelled, “We’re almost there! Get Ready!”

  “Roger.”

  Clank! The sound of a bullet hitting my exhaust pipe nearly toppled me, so I leaned down a bit. I was already fully gunning my bike and keeping ahead of Spike pretty good, but bullets are faster than Harleys, and another whizzed by my head as I rode on. I took the next exit and floored it around the tight curve, leaning in as low as I could. As I turned onto Old Mill road, I felt the impact of what felt like a baseball bat to my left shoulder, and I almost lost control of my bike. I looked down to see the upper sleeve of my jacket torn and blackened. For a few moments I felt nothing, followed by an intense searing heat, as if being branded.

  Fuck, I’m shot.

  Doing my best to ignore the pain, I pushed my bike into the red again and sped through the final fifty yards of our chase. I headed for the Shake Shack with Spike right on my tail, gun still drawn and haulin’ ass.

  As we rounded the corner, Lisa and her partner, who had been waiting in an unmarked car, pulled up behind Spike, and hit the lights and sirens. As soon as they did, four additional squad cars appeared from their hiding spot around the back, forcing Spike to pull over.

  I parked my bike which was now leaking more fluid than I was, and sat my ass on the gravel. I wasn’t sure if I was more pissed off that he shot me or my bike. Either way, this asshole was going to pay... for everything. Assessing my current state of health, I pushed myself up and headed for Spike, ready to take him down a few pegs. Before I could reach him, however, the cops had Spike hogtied and Lisa was reading him his rights.

  I bent down to address Spike, his greasy face still pressed against the asphalt. “You’re gonna pay for every life you took, and I’m going to personally make sure you pay extra for the little girl and for Willow’s father.”

  “Are you hearing this?” Spike snapped. “He’s threatenin’ me.”

  “I’m sorry?” Lisa countered, pressing her foot into his back. “What was that?”

  “Nice try, asshole,” I hissed.

  “Fuck you, pretty boy,” was all Spik
e could manage. “You got nothin’.”

  “Except for your .38, which is the same caliber as the weapon used in Mr. Miller’s shooting,” Lisa said. “I’m gonna bet you were stupid enough to keep the gun you used, and that this is it.”

  Spike’s normal yellow complexion turned white.

  “Not to mention, the pile of weapons and drugs we found back at your safe house,” Lisa continued. “That’s right. We’ve got half your club locked up right now, and I’d bet they’re already turning on you.”

  “Fuck you, pig bitch.”

  I leaned in closer. “You’re gonna burn, your club is gonna burn, and then we’re coming after Torrance.”

  Spike’s eyes widened. “I d... don’t... know... what... what you’re talking about.”

  “I think you do. I also think you’re gonna have a hell of a time avoiding being shanked in county lockup. The only question is, will Aljets pay someone in your club do it, or will they volunteer?”

  Two officers picked Spike up and stuffed him in the back of a squad car.

  “Thanks, Lisa,” I said.

  She nodded. “This is going to be a paperwork nightmare, and I’m going to have to leave a couple minor details out of my report, but we got him.”

  “Minor details, huh? Like that propane tank back at the safe house?”

  “You mean the leak that caused the explosion?” she asked, smiling. “Catching him speeding through town, guns blazing, will be enough for us to keep him in custody as long as we need to smooth everything over—” She paused, suddenly noticing my arm. “Have you been shot?”

  “Yeah, but I’ll have Doc take care of it.”

  “Like hell you will, we have to get you to a hospital.”

  “It’s not a big deal, the bullet grazed me.”

  “Not a big deal? You’re shot and you’re bleeding Dash.”

  “I’ll be okay. Besides, I think the less of a paper trail there is regarding today’s events, the better. Don’t you? Trust me, there’s no one better in the field than Doc. I could use a lift, though, my bike was hit too.”

  “No problem,” Lisa said. “We’ll get someone to haul your bike back to your compound, too.”

  “Appreciate that.”

  I climbed into Lisa’s cruiser and once she’d finished at the scene, she drove me back to the compound.

  Willow

  I was in the kitchen making Gator lunch, when he let out the worst string of swear words on the planet and jumped off the sofa.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “That fuckin’, wet behind the ears, fuckin’—”

  “Gator!” I snapped.

  He glanced at me and scowled. “Give me a second, Willow. Got a situation.”

  He put his phone to his ear and walked toward the slider, but I heard “Dash,” so I followed.

  “Why the fuck didn’t he tell anyone?” Gator snapped as he stepped onto the deck. “Yeah? Oh, really? That fuckin’... no, fuck! Is he dead?”

  My heart stopped and I grabbed his arm. “What is going on?”

  “Yeah, she’s here. Where the hell else would she be?”

  I bit back tears as I squeezed his arm. I wanted to puke, but I needed to know what was wrong first.

  “No, Doc, this is bullshit. Yeah, I can fuckin’ bring her, but I reserve the right to beat the shit out of that kid first.” He nodded. “No, goddammit, that little shit’s got some explainin’ to do.” He met my eyes and his face softened. “Yeah, we’re leavin’ now.”

  He hung up and guided me back into the house. “Grab your purse, babe, we need to get to the compound.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Dash has had a little accident.”

  I gasped, rushing for the closet. “What kind of accident?”

  “Nothin’ major, baby girl. He’s all good. Just needs a few stitches.”

  “Stitches?” I squeaked. “What happened.”

  “He got shot.”

  “What?” I rasped, bursting into tears. “Where is he? Is he okay? Is he dead?”

  “Did ya miss the part where I said he was all good?” Gator deadpanned.

  “Snarky is not the way to go here, old man,” I ground out, scooping my keys off the foyer console.

  “He’s fine, baby girl. Flesh wound. Doc’s sewin’ him up at the compound.” He snatched the keys from my hand and said, “I’m drivin’.”

  “I’m not riding with you,” I countered. I was fine to get on the back of Dash’s bike, but the thought of getting on anyone else’s was just too much. Especially in my current state of vulnerability.

  “I’m gonna drive your car,” he clarified. “Come on.”

  I followed Gator out of the house and after he locked up, we headed to the compound. He had to pull over a couple of times because I was sick to my stomach, but we made it in less time than normal because Gator drove like a maniac.

  Gator led me back to one of the bedrooms and I walked in to see bloody rags on the floor and Dash on his back, one leg bent at the knee, his face turned to the wall, while Doc stitched his arm.

  “Oh!” I whispered, the sight of my man injured overwhelming.

  Dash’s head whipped to me and he scowled. “Get her out of here!”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, baby, but you need to wait outside.” He hissed out an expletive when Doc dug the needle back into his arm.

  “Why isn’t he at a hospital?” I demanded.

  “Gator! Fuck!” Dash snapped. “Get her out!”

  Gator wrapped an arm around my waist and tugged, but I wouldn’t budge.

  “You’re hurt and in pain and you think I’m leaving you?” I asked, sobbing.

  Dash sat up slightly. “Goddammit! Gator!”

  Gator dragged me out of the room and even though I dug my heels in, I was no match for the much larger man.

  He released me once we were in the hallway, but refused to let me back in the room... and believe me, I tried. I even resorted to physical violence, but Gator just grabbed my arms gently and held them away from his body with a chuckle.

  “You can go in when Dash says it’s okay to go in... but after I beat the shit out of him, got it?”

  “If you touch him, I will maim you.”

  “Yeah, I can see you have that power, baby girl,” he deadpanned.

  Before I could eviscerate him with my words... my clean words since swearing still wasn’t something I could bring myself to do... Doc pulled the door open and gave the all-clear.

  I pushed away from Gator and rushed into the room. Dash was sitting on the edge of the bed, his arm bandaged, and even though he looked wrecked, he held his arm out to me and I closed the distance between us.

  “What happened?” I asked, as he pulled me onto his lap.

  “Long story, baby, can I fill you in when I’m not feelin’ so out of it?”

  “How about you give me the short version to tide me over?”

  He sighed. “Followed the guy who shot your dad, found him and a few of his friends, chase and gunfire ensued, I got clipped, the bad guys got nabbed.”

  “Gunfire?” I snapped. “As in raining bullets kind of gunfire?”

  “Baby, seriously, I’m good.”

  “Give us a minute, baby girl,” Gator said.

  “No.”

  “Willow,” he growled.

  “No. Whatever you have to say to him, you can say in front of me. I’m not leaving him.”

  “I need to crash,” Dash said. “Want me to crash here or at your place?”

  “Are you seriously asking me that right now?”

  “Tryin’ to be sensitive, Willow.”

  “Why start now?” I retorted, and climbed off his lap. “My place. Come on.”

  After getting instructions from Doc on how to care for the wound and what to watch for, he gave me a prescription for painkillers, and Gator helped Dash to the car. Dash had been shot in almost the exact place I had been, so I was fairly confident I’d have no issues taki
ng care of him, and bonus (according to Dash), we’d have matching scars. It’s weird what guys think about.

  Gator refused to leave even though Dash fell asleep on the sofa. I didn’t mind, I liked having Gator around, but I had a feeling he was hanging around in order to yell at my man and I wasn’t a big fan of that fact (and I told him as much). Unfortunately, his “grievances” fell under Club business, therefore, they were none of mine.

  “Are you staying for dinner?” I asked Gator while he flipped through the channels on the TV.

  “Does a bear shit in the woods?”

  “Since they live there, most definitely.”

  “What are you making?”

  “Does it matter?” I challenged. “I could hand you a poop sandwich and you’d probably eat it.”

  “Poop sandwich. Fuck me, baby girl, you’re a hoot.” He roared with laughter, startling Dash who sat up like someone had just slapped him, and his eyes found mine.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “I’m good, honey,” I said, and rushed to him. “Can I get you anything?”

  “No, I’m okay.”

  Gator’s laughter stopped, his face taking on a rather glary scowl, and I frowned. “I’m going to get the casserole in the oven. You be nice.”

  I waited until he nodded before kissing Dash gently, then walking back to the kitchen. I watched them closely as they spoke in whispers, looking for any sign that Gator might ‘beat the shit’ out of Dash, but they appeared to be playing nice for the moment, so I focused on the food.

  “You goddamn, little shit!” Gator bellowed, and I nearly dropped the pan I was holding.

  “Gat—”

  “No, boy, you listen to me.” He rose to his feet and jabbed a finger at him. “You went in there without backup. Forget the fact you didn’t call me, I’m more pissed you didn’t let the rest of the brothers in on the plan. One for backup wasn’t a good choice.”

  “Badger was enough, brother. Plus, we had Lisa. You had to be here with Willow,” Dash countered.

  “And I’m fuckin’ fine with that. I wouldn’t be a good backup choice anyway, but you shoulda told me.”

  I could tell Gator was hurt because he hadn’t been kept in the loop, and I was grateful he was using his words, but I could also tell Dash wasn’t getting the nuances of why Gator was upset.