by Liz K. Lorde
Within the span of a breath, the three were inside with guns pointed at the table of men. Cards and chips, crumpled up bills and watches – there were many assortments of doodads among the green felt table. Some of the men were Chinese; some white, others Mexican – and amongst them all was Shady Earl. He sat there with his wimpy jaw slack, his short copper hair swept back. They all froze, not wanting to even reach for their guns.
Sexton moved his pistol from target to target, “Don’t give me a reason to redecorate,” he laughed and put a hand to his head, likely suffering from a headache from binging on liquor.
Luke called out simply and clearly, “You flinch, you die. You really want to risk a blood bath? Play it safe, give him to us,” Luke pointed his gun at Earl, “and you’ll live. Understood?” Some foreign words were exchanged between the men.
Sexton moved between two targets, keeping his gun at the ready.
Earl looked nervously around the room, “Hey what the fuck, what is this shit about – don’t look at me like that.” The men surrounding him eyed him hard, until one particularly heavy set man got up from his chair, went over to him and lifted him up from his seat.
“Get your hands off of me,” he shouted, but the man did not care. He shoved Earl over to Luke. Across the room, one of the Chinese men said something and laughed – he had a bald head, twenty something, and definitely never skipped leg day.
Sexton brought his gun over to the man who laughed, “Hey,” he snarled, “you got something you’d like to share with the rest of the class?” He waved his gun carelessly around
The man did not say another word, but the smirk on his lips remained.
Earl looked back at the man who had brought him to the group, and then turned his head to size up his captors; his eyes turned something pensive. But before the man’s mind could work any further, Luke peeled off his mask. “Luke…” there was a weight in his voice.
“You tried to kill my friend,” Luke susurrated. “You went after one of us,” he continued, “one of my brothers.”
The lines on Earl’s face became traced with fear. He shook his head, “I did nothin’ of the sort.”
“Bullshit, you’re nothing but a rat,” Luke exclaimed; Sexton craned his head to look back at Luke briefly.
“I-I swear,” Earl pleaded. “Just let me go, just let me go? I’ll help you – I can help you find who did this.” Suddenly the people in room became very talkative, it had to have been the fact that Luke revealed himself. They were beginning to catch on to what was coming; compliance only works to those that keep their word.
I can see it in his eyes, Luke thought, the same eyes I see every time; I would’ve given him the decency of a quick death if he could’ve manned up and told the truth. “Swear on this.”
Benny turned his head away and whispered low, “Rest in peace.”
Luke reached out to catch Earl as he moved to escape, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. The man screamed out as he struggled for his life; all of the other men finally went to pull out their guns, one was quick on the draw and somehow managed the first shot – nailing Sexton in the side – causing him to curse at the top of his lungs and fire off a series of rounds.
With a struggling motion, Luke pulled Earl close to him and stuffed the barrel of the pistol into his mouth, aiming it downwards – an intense heat rushed through the base of Luke’s spine as things quickly descended into chaos. Earl wrestled with the gun best as he could, shouting ‘no’ helplessly. Luke squeezed the trigger and felt a powerful pulse throughout his body, and a blood curdling scream left the lips of Earl.
Red splattered in every direction.
Benny fired off three rounds at the men that were closest to him. He left three holes almost dead center in the head of each of his targets; Sexton staggered and nearly fell to the floor before steadying himself and spraying the remainder of his magazine at the men who were furthest away.
Luke hooked his foot at the base of Earl’s leg and used his arm to shove him down to the floor; he was particularly unable to stop this as he bled out all over himself. Pinioning the dying man beneath his boot, Luke brought his gun up and shot off a series of rounds.
Another shot managed to come out from the other side of the room, grazing dangerously close to Luke’s neck. His heart hammered in his chest and instantly his eyes darted to the man that had shot at him, his finger squeezed the trigger, dropping two bullets square in the man’s chest.
The room was a bloody mess. Benny’s hand reached over to Luke’s shoulder. “We need to go,” he whispered, “now.”
Luke turned his head to look over at Sexton. Damn, probably gonna need Jasmine for that – I hate to get her any more involved… the sound of Earl’s gurgles and sputtering pulled Luke’s attention back to him. He was like a bloodied worm writhing on the ground, grabbing at Luke’s ankles, looking up at him with hateful eyes.
Benny kept his aim on the corridor that connected the backroom to the front and, in so many words, repeated himself.
The sound of a dreadful crunch was the last thing that echoed throughout the backroom.
Chapter Fifteen
Jasmine
She felt something tapping against her cheek, and turned in the bed, making a noise that, if one had heard it enough would know, meant to kindly piss off. But whatever, or whomever it was, continued to rouse Jasmine from her slumber. She felt a heavy weight cloaked around her body, and her vision was a bit fuzzy and stuck with eye sand.
Even for as beautiful as she found the man, that wouldn’t let Jasmine forgive Luke’s intrusion of her sleep. She grumbled as her name was called.
No matter what man I’ve ever had in my life; and I mean ever, they’ve never understood one simple rule: Don’t wake me up, for the love of god just let me sleep.
Jasmine hid her head beneath the comforting darkness and pleasant coolness of her pillow. She pictured clouds feeling something like them. “Whattt?” Jasmine almost whined.
“Get up, Jas,” Luke insisted.
“But I’m so tired,” she replied with a muffle. She felt Luke’s hand rocking her by her shoulder.
“I know I know, but I need your help – and the longer you try to bury your sleepy little head the worse the carpet’s going to get stained.”
“Stained?” Jasmine slowly brought her head from under the pillow, she spied a man that looked familiar; noticed a red spot on his side, and a few stained drops on the carpet below.
Sexton winced as he leaned on the wall, “Rise and shine beautiful,” he groaned, “you got work to do.”
Jasmine rolled out from her bed and got to her feet, “Do I even want to ask?”
Luke shook his head.
“Get him some towels,” she said, “lie down in bed and I’ll be back with my things. Oh and strip off your shirt.”
Sexton groaned and shuffled over to the bed, peeling off his top, “F-you say so. You’re the boss.”
Yeah, Jasmine thought, I like the sound of that. She felt a shiver of arousal course through her; what a shame someone hurt such a… she swallowed – perfectly sculpted man. Okay, I have to get out of here, Jesus.
***
After a quick drive, Jasmine returned to Gabriel’s home. She had her medical bag with her and she sauntered over to Sexton, who was laying down in bed beneath a great many towels, with his head propped up against the headboard. “How’s your pain?” She asked.
“Nothin’ I can’t handle,” he said through grit teeth. Luke was nowhere to be seen.
“Sure about that?” Jasmine’s brows raised as she opened up her kit and pulled out her pair of forceps, a swab of cotton, hydrogen peroxide and various other little things.
“Been shot plenty sweetheart,” the man boasted, “nothing new here.”
“Alright,” she dabbed some peroxide onto the swab of cotton, “I guess since you’re used to it this won’t hurt.”
Sexton grimaced and let out a long, pained groan. Yeah, that’s what I thought.
“I know, I
know,” Jasmine soothed, “just give it a moment.”
“Giving,” the man closed his eyes and pushed his head back against the wooden headboard.
Jasmine reached over to his face and removed his sunglasses, giving her the opportunity to drink in the warmth, beauty and pain behind his haunting blue eyes. She felt her face beginning to flush and averted her eyes, placing the man’s shades off to the side and putting on her gloves.
Sexton sucked in a breath and let out another low groan, his eyes following Jasmine’s every movement.
Moving in closer, she examined the wound. “Let’s get you on your side,” she carefully moved him into a more suitable position; the man was mostly agreeable with her movements. “Did you take anything for the pain?”
“While you were gone,” he replied.
Luke came in through the doorway, overlooking the process; Jasmine gave him a quick look of concern before returning to her inspection. The man had suffered an angled gunshot wound, thankfully the bullet itself did not penetrate a major artery or organ, and the bullet itself was visible to the trained eye. Taking the forceps in her hand, Jasmine delicately brought the instrument to Sexton’s wound and slowly pushed it inside, feeling for the bullet. She kept her eyes steady on the task at hand, pinching her fingers, letting the clamp fit itself snugly against the foreign object. She tuned out the sounds of Sexton being in pain, gently attempting to remove the bullet – droplets of red escaped the wound for every pass that she made.
Crossing his arms over one another, Luke said, “You shouldn’t have been drinking so much…”
“Yeah well, I got carried—“ Sexton sucked in a sharp breath, “ff-I got carried away.”
After several intense minutes and insisting that the man try to be as still as possible, Jasmine finally plucked the bullet from Sexton’s person; dabbing the wound clean and sterilizing it once more before grabbing the sutures.
After Jasmine did the deed of sewing the man back whole, Sexton shifted on the bed so that he could lay on his back. “Thanks Doc.”
“Let’s try not to make this a routine.”
Chapter Sixteen
Luke
Luke was laying down on the couch, his legs stretched out and the lids of his eyes heavy with the weight of needing sleep. It hadn’t come last night, as the questions burned away in his mind: how long ‘till Allen finds out? Will Sexton and Benny be safe? Can I trust Rudess? He’d known the owner of Club Phoenix for some time, and he gave his word – but words were wind; and tended to drift away under certain persuasions.
It was half past noon and Jasmine had left earlier in the morning, she was supposed to be going out with a friend that she made, some co-worker, at the hospital. Warmth twisted in Luke’s chest at the thought, he was happy for her – happy that she was getting out there and making connections, filling her life with people that she wanted to be around.
He was equally happy, of course, that she’d be spending time with people not affiliated with the Club. Not that he had any problems with her meeting Sexton or Benny or Gabriel, but after Kayla, and the soon-to-be wrath of the President on Luke’s heels – as well as Martine’s shadowing, keeping Jasmine away from the MC was the smartest and best thing he could do for her.
Luke fingered the remote, turning on the TV and flipping through the channels lazily until he came across the local news station. He waited, trying not to nod off, for some time, until the reporter onscreen began to talk about a gruesome execution that had occurred in the late hours last night at the vacant Pollock Storage down on Grove Street. The reporter gave a nod and sent it over to the camera and crew that were on site, along with the familiar face of Sheriff Martine.
The Sheriff wore a mask of a face, serious and giving little else away – he had light olive skin and was not wearing his hat, revealing the thick, brown parted hair on his head.
The onsite reporter, all touched up with makeup and shiny black hair, looked more like a ken doll than a human being. “This is truly terrible Sheriff,” the man shook his head, “do you think this has anything to do with the assault on that shop on the corner of Lyte and Siouxsie?”
“At this time we’re uncertain,” Martine confessed, “but I personally suspect it to be some kind of gang retaliation.” Yeah, bet it burns you up inside you can’t prove it either – you’re gonna have to do a lot better if you want to shadow me.
The reporter brought his microphone back, “Horrible, just horrible. And you’re saying that there are currently no suspects?” Luke could see plainly between the lines of the man’s face; he was pleased that these ‘bangers’ were offing one another. To him, to them, anyone that wasn’t a church goer, or a suburban home owner – or a mom and pop store owner, they – no, we, were the enemy. Faceless, soulless pieces of trash whose opinions and more importantly lives didn’t matter. It was people like him that Luke hated the most, the ones that sat atop their high horse all the while they shat on the floor and thought it gold.
Martine sucked in a deep breath and let it roll slowly from his nose, “No. Not at this time, but we’re confident that our men will find something sooner rather than later. These are criminals that we’re dealing with, they have no code of honor – they have no sense of morals. The only truth they know is that you kill or you be killed.”
“Right,” the reporter said, “and you think they’ll turn on one another, so to speak.”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying Charles,” Martine looked directly into the camera, his brown intimidating eyes seemingly looking right at Luke. “They’re animals, and before you know it – they’ll be ripping out each other’s throats and begging for a mercy plea. More often then not, they’re likely to choke someone to death then they are letting something slip. Murders talk.”
“Fuck you,” Luke switched the channel, browsing idly as the lids of his eyes tried to subtly shut themselves. He stopped on The Price is Right and muted the show as one contestant began to spin the wheel. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his cell and scrolled for Sexton’s number – quickly dialing it and bringing the phone to his ear.
The line rang for what seemed like minutes, each sound seeming to make Luke’s body even more heavy than it was previously. Sleep sounds so sweet, he thought. Sometimes I wish I didn’t have to deal with all of this shit…I wish I still had you here with me.
“Speak,” Sexton growled.
“You seen the news?”
“Nah, why? It on there already?”
“Take it Allen’s not around.”
“No, he’s out with Alex to speak with Johnny – probably to hire some prospects out as muscle.”
Luke swallowed, his mouth little more than cotton. “Yeah, well it’s hit the news, so if he hasn’t caught wind it’ll be before the day’s done for sure.”
“Alright. He hasn’t said anything, so, yeah. Matter of time.” There was a sound that could be heard over his end, the sound of something clacking hard against something else. “Your girl cleaned me up nice,” he said. “Best hang on to that one.”
A smile walked along the lines of Luke’s face, “I a hundred percent intend to. I may be a fool, but I’m not an idiot.”
“Heh, well, difference of opinion then.”
There was a small beat of time that passed then. “I need you to be my eyes and ears man, I don’t want anything bad to happen to you or Ben. So… you do what you gotta, but keep me in the loop – even if Allen’s gonna have his suspicions—“
“Oh the Prez is gonna have your ass Luke, come on. You think he’s gonna worry about proof?”
“Maybe he will, maybe he won’t. Either way, it’ll buy me a modicum of relief when it comes to his wrath.”
“Yeah. Maybe it might give you an inch, but it ain’t gonna be more than that. Don’t expect it to be, at least. Don’t sweat us, cause he’ll be lookin’ only at you my man.”
Luke ran a hand through his hair lackadaisically, “Yeah… I’m just glad I have you guys in my corner. I’ll be layin
g low for as long as I need to.”
There was a brief pause. “I’m just glad we laid that fucker to rest.”
He made a promise to himself then to check on Gabriel tomorrow. “Yeah. Alright I’m gonna let you go, don’t hesitate to call me – I want to know everything that he says, big or small.”
The two exchanged goodbyes and Luke dialed Jasmine’s number.
Chapter Seventeen
Jasmine
When she got home she had expected to see Luke’s motorcycle in her driveway, but it was curiously absent. He had called a couple of hours ago and asked if it would be okay for him to stay at her place for a while. The while in this case, being an ambiguous placeholder for ‘I don’t know how long I’ll be, so I’m going to verbally throw my hands in the air.’ No complaints here, she thought. She hadn’t asked at the time since she was having lunch with Kate, but assumed it had something to do with Sexton being hurt.
She’d let Luke know about the spare key beneath a rock outside of her porch. Rolling to a stop, she swung her car door shut and sauntered over to the door, unlocking it and calling out her lover’s name. She smelled something sweet that she could not quite place, and the heavy, wonderful taste of garlic kissed playfully at her nose – each sniff inviting her to take just one more.
“I’m in here,” Luke called out from the kitchen.
Jasmine kicked off her sneakers and locked the front door, padding through the living room and into the kitchen. He looked tired, with his hair done in a mess, wearing a black crew-neck tee and jeans. He glanced over at her as he worked the sizzling hot pan, gracing her with a crooked smile.
Jasmine eyed him from head to toe, “Didn’t get any sleep? Probably not wise to be cooking.”
“Unfortunately not,” Luke flipped the mixed vegetables in the pan.
Jasmine slipped over to his side and wrapped her arms around his midsection, pressing her face against the nape of his neck. Breathing him in was a comforting ritual all itself, his body was her church and the softness of his voice her heavenly hymns. “It smells amazing in here.”
