by Carmen Faye
She nodded reluctantly. “I get it. I’ll say hello to Joe first, and then I’ll see about a table.” She kissed his cheek and strode confidently toward the rear entrance, smiling at Cougar, who held it open for her.
After she disappeared, Cougar met Vance’s eyes and gave him a nod that meant he was watching over Maya. Vance nodded back and turned a grave expression on Dusty. “Why is it such a big deal? I thought we were secure here, and I know for a fact no one tailed us.”
Dusty rubbed his nose and wouldn’t meet Vance’s eyes. “Triple Threat is in here almost every day, Ice. You know, we can talk negotiations and truces all day long, but I don’t trust him, not any more than I trust Antonio. I keep telling Bert that it’s all a big game, a trap, and that Triple Threat will go right back to Antonio to plan their attack together.”
Vance clenched his jaw. He should have thought of that. The Scorpion president wasn’t stupid, even if Antonio truly was crazy. They could have engineered this whole situation, and Vance had just played right into their hands. He wanted to put his fist through a wall for his own stupidity, but it was too late now, and he had to deal with the circumstances as they were.
“When was the last time he was here?” he asked Dusty.
“I wasn’t here, but Buddha says he came by this morning, had a beer while he chatted with Bert, and left. He had three men with him, and Joe said they were wandering around the bar, like they were searching for something. Or casing the joint.” Dusty’s expression was grim. “I know it sounded like things were looking up, but shit has started going south since we talked. Or really, I guess we’ve just finally realized things weren’t as good as they seemed on the surface.”
Vance shrugged. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. Hell, he should have been the first one to question the arrangement. “Then Bert’s come around to your worries and way of thinking?”
Dusty made a face and gave a wordless response of uncertainty before replying, “He’s more cautious now. He’s not just chatting it up every time the guy wanders into the bar. But I think he’s too trusting and ready to believe whatever makes things easy for him without any thought to what’s best for the club. Instead, he’s going to end up getting us all killed.”
Vance knew Dusty was right. They’d all gotten used to following Bert blindly, without asking questions or considering that he could be choosing poorly. They’d gotten lazy, and Vance was just as much to blame as anyone else. “We need to call a meeting, first thing in the morning, and we’ve got to make some changes. In the meantime, I’m here, and so is Maya, and I think it would be even dumber to head back out. That’s exactly what Triple Threat would expect. We’re going to stay, and if for some reason they show back up today, you all have to act like I just got here and forced you to let me stay.”
“This is a bad idea,” Dusty groaned, and he was right. But there was no other choice at this point in time. “Alright, I’m spreading the word and calling in an emergency meeting for tomorrow morning at ten. And I’m saying it’s you bringing us in. I’m not taking the heat for this.”
“Whatever.” Vance didn’t care. Any of the boys who were angry about the early hour could kiss his ass. He was in line to take the head of the table, with just as much clout as Bert, and when one guy started making foolish decisions, it was time for the other to step up. If his brothers couldn’t offer respect, he’d demand it when they came to the meeting. “I’m not armed. I need a couple of pistols to carry.”
Dusty nodded, walking with him to the huge gun safe in the storage room of the shop. Vance took out a Ruger, a Beretta, and a compact Glock, all 9mm. He walked to the SUV, Dusty following him, and pulled out his usual jeans, t-shirt, vest, and boots. He changed quickly, tucked the Glock into his boot, and placed both the Ruger and the Beretta in the waistband of the back of his jeans, just under his vest for easy access. Now, he felt prepared, and he gave Dusty a nod of thanks, for having his back and giving him the head’s up.
He entered the bar, searching for Maya in the midst of a fairly large crowd for this time of day. What day was it anyway? He’d lost track, holed up in that godforsaken house. Thursday? No, it was Friday. That made more sense; several of the boys who lived out of town were already getting in for the weekend.
Vance spotted her by following Joe’s line of sight, laughing it up with four of his brothers she’d obviously convinced to give up their pool table. He moved closer and heard Donnie’s distinctive voice shouting over the din. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman who could hold her own in an arm wrestling match against me!”
“What are you doing to my woman?” Vance demanded as he approached, making sure he sounded gruff and irritated.
“More like what’s your woman doing to us?” Jagger laughed from across the table. One of the youngest patched members, he was a loudmouth, but he was reliable and had a good sense of humor. “Do you know how strong she is, Ice?”
He narrowed his eyes at a very pleased looking Maya. “I have an idea. Are you beating up on my men, sweetheart?” he asked, drawing her into his arms.
“Not really,” she said, a broad grin on her face. “I made a deal with these guys that if I could beat one of them in an arm wrestling match, the table was mine. I managed to hold my own with Donnie for almost a full minute before he beat me, so they gave me a second chance, and I nailed Hawk to the wall.”
That was impressive, and Vance was proud of Maya, proud to be with her. She was so atypical, so original, and so perfect in every way. “And here I thought our guys were strong. Get out of here, you weak sons of bitches. My girl’s strong, but that doesn’t mean each and every one of you shouldn’t be stronger. Go work out or something.”
He kissed Maya soundly and chuckled. “That’s my girl. Now, show me what you’ve got at this primitive test of masculine pride.” He motioned to the table, and Maya giggled. It was good to see her chipper again. She’d been that way when he’d met her, and slowly, throughout their ordeal, he’d watched her energy drain, her happiness suffer. Now, though, she had returned to herself, and he knew it would be a good afternoon, regardless of his concerns.
He was prepared to play best of three at Eight Ball, but Maya was apparently an expert and insisted they play Straight Pool to a hundred points. He had a feeling she’d been hustling him the whole time and was going to make him look like a complete fool in front of his gang.
And she nearly did. She had him by nearly twenty points almost from the start, and he was starting to get grumpy when he hit a good run and caught up quite a bit. Still, at the end, she had him a hundred to ninety-four, and he had to swallow his pride. It had been so much fun, though, that he didn’t care as much as he probably should have that he’d lost, and he managed a reluctant smile. “I guess that means you’re about to tell me where we’re going to take our first vacation, sweetheart.”
She winked at him. “I’m thinking Tuscany, but only after we order our custom bikes. I’ll pay for my own, since you are such a gracious loser.”
Vance grunted as she rubbed in his loss, but he lit up at her insistence on getting a motorcycle anyway. She did have long term intentions, then. His heart swelled, and he pulled her into his arms for an almost brutal kiss. She deepened it, and he felt the first sparks of arousal as his groin tightened. But he didn’t want to give into physical desire right now. They’d been enjoying themselves far too much partaking of a more social activity, something they hadn’t been able to do since their return from L.A. He was going to make the most of it before they hid out for the night.
“Are you any good at darts?” Dusty asked, sidling up beside them and addressing Maya.
She wrinkled her nose. “No, I’m pretty bad at that. The last time I played, I was so far off I caught a guy in the shoulder.”
Dusty blanched. “Remind me not to give you a loaded weapon!” They laughed, and Vance ushered Maya to the bar, ordering them each a whiskey sour. He figured they could both use it to ease the tension. They’d managed to ignore it during
the game, but now, it was hard to set aside. Maya knew something was wrong, and though she said nothing, Vance knew she was itching to ask what the hell was going on.
He was trying to think of the best way to explain what Dusty had told him without freaking her out too much. He kept thinking it would eventually be too much for Maya to handle, all the danger and violence on the horizon, and she continued to prove him wrong, showing strength beyond what he gave her credit for. Still, this was the biggest concern he’d had yet because none of them were certain what to expect.
“Are we staying here tonight, in the office, or are we getting a motel room?” she asked when the silence carried on for too long.
“I’m not sure yet,” he replied. They’d be more comfortable in a motel room, alone and with a larger bed, but they would be safer here, where there were always a few Mojave Boys bunkering down and watching the place overnight. It also made more sense to be here when the others filed in for the meeting in the morning. He could crawl out of bed late and shower here, then walk straight into the bar and start the meeting. And the less they were out and about, whether driving or walking, the less of a target they wore on their backs.
The more he thought about it the more he knew they needed to stay here, despite the temptation to do otherwise. He opened his mouth to tell her, but a loud bang sounded out back, and there was no mistaking the noise for what it was.
A gunshot.
Several more broke out, and Vance was on the move. He shoved Maya, who was on her feet, toward the back of the bar and right into Joe’s hands. “Get her to the office, now!” he shouted. He yanked the two guns from behind his back and cocked them, ready to shoot at any moment. He rushed to the back door, where everyone else inside was flocking with guns drawn, as all hell broke loose outside.
But he didn’t make it through the door. It flew open, two of his boys backing in, one still shooting ahead of him with one hand as he half drug the other inside. Vance cursed violently when he saw it was Cougar who’d been hit in the shoulder. Blood was spurting out; the bullet had at least nicked an artery, and two other boys fell on him, trying to staunch the flow of blood as Cougar’s head lolled. He was trying to maintain consciousness, but it didn’t look good.
He had to move, but everyone was blocking the door, and Tiny, who had hauled Cougar in, caught his elbow, holding him back. Vance had never seen Tiny scared, but his eyes were wild with fear. “Don’t go out there with guns blazing, Ice. There’s got to be at least fifty of them out there, and they’re thirsty for blood. You’ve got to play it safe and cautious.”
“How many are down?” Vance demanded, needing to know how bad things were.
“I don’t know.” He winced at the sound of a scream just outside the door. “I’d say three or four, maybe. I know we’ve hit several Scorpions, but it’s like they’re on a suicide mission, win or die.”
So be it, Vance thought. They could all die. He pushed everyone out of the way and plastered his back against the wall by the door. He motioned to Caleb on the other side. “When I say go, open the door, and I’m going to fire. As soon as I pull back, close the damn thing. Don’t hesitate.”
Caleb nodded, wearing a serious expression that lined his face beyond his years. Vance waited for a slight break in the gunfire and shouted, “Go!”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Vance focused straight ahead, seeing five Scorpions in an SUV, two leaning out with guns aimed while three more reloaded or pulled other weapons. He didn’t hesitate, emptying the Beretta clip on the two in the front seat. He caught one in the chest through the windshield, but the other ducked. The shots carried through the car to the backseat, and the middleman who had just stood out the sunroof to point and shoot caught three bullets in the leg. He fell inside the car, screaming.
Bullets flew at him, and Vance ducked back inside. Caleb slammed the door, taking Vance’s Beretta and passing him a loaded Colt revolver. “Some more of us need to be out there,” Caleb muttered, and Vance could see the anxiousness to join the fray on the other dozen or so faces. “And we need to find the guys who are down and try to get them inside.”
He was right, but Vance didn’t think they needed to head out into the storm of bullets. He turned and found Buddha. “Take six men to the front, and check on what’s waiting for us out there. Don’t raise hell, just handle it like I am here. If you can get the path open, split up and go around both sides, getting in behind the Scorpion crew. Take out as many as you can and get back inside, under cover.”
Buddha nodded and grabbed some men. Vance turned back to Caleb and sought out Donnie, calling him forward. There were still several men standing around, getting antsy, and three more on the ground with Cougar, including Tiny. Cougar wasn’t awake, and Vance had to look away before he got too emotional. “I want four men on the roof, sniper mode. Don’t just spray. I want focus and a bead on the best shooters. The rest of you, start setting up for triage. I don’t want to lose anyone if I don’t have to.”
He addressed Donnie and Caleb in the midst of the frenzy of movement. “Donnie, you’re a good shot. This time, when Caleb opens that door, I want you leaning around the other side. We’re emptying three clips right into these bastards. Are you good?”
He could tell Donnie was anxious for blood; Cougar had been his mentor. “Never better,” he said with a dangerous smile.
Vance nodded, waited long enough for everyone to get in place, and again shouted, “Go!”
Caleb yanked the door open, and Donnie instantly had to pull back behind the door as a bullet barely missed his shoulder and flew through the interior of the bar. “Shit!” Vance heard behind him, but he was focused on his game and couldn’t see if anyone had been hit. He had a bead on the SUV again, and he hit the guy who had ducked before in the shoulder and again in the side of his neck. He dropped his weapon and looked like he was choking.
Donnie hit the other two in the backseat and turned to a Scorpion leaning around a dump truck with a rifle. The guy hit the ground in convulsions as Vance aimed over his head at the Scorpion who had climbed into the back of the truck and peeked over to shoot. He fired three shots, one of which blasted straight through the guy’s skull. He still had several bullets when Donnie ducked back, grabbing a second gun and firing some more.
Vance took out three more enemies at the fence line, and he thought he saw Donnie get two others who had closed in and were in the shop. That worried him, and as he rolled back into the building with Donnie, letting Caleb shut the door, his heart raced. He didn’t see nearly as much defensive fire as he should have, and he worried that they’d lost too many men.
“I only saw six or seven of ours hit, and they were still moving, trying to take cover,” Caleb told him, anxiety clear on his young face. “But I couldn’t see this side.” He pointed to his right; the door would have blocked his view.
Donnie shook his head, heaving for breath. Vance understood; his adrenaline was pumping so hard he was gasping as well. “These guys aren’t going to run unless we scratch at least half of them, and not every Scorpion I hit took a fatal blow.”
“Same here,” Vance told him. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll keep going.” As he spoke, Johnny, one of their prospects, ran in with more guns and ammo.
He looked up, and Vance knew he hoped he hadn’t overstepped his boundaries. “I’m not carrying yet, but I thought I could help load and arm.”
Vance gave him a nod of approval. “Nice job. Let’s go.” As he reloaded his pistols, he heard the sound of his boys on the roof, followed by loud bangs overhead. They were in place, taking out Scorpions from their elevated view. Good, the more Scorpions they put six feet under, the better.
In place again, Vance gave the signal, and he was back in business. Several Scorpions on foot were moving closer to the bar, and one fired from his left before he could see the guy. The shot went a bit wild, and Donnie shouted, “Duck!” Vance did, and Donnie caught the kid in the chest. Seeing another young Scorpion closing in from
the right, Vance aimed under Donnie’s arms and got three bullets off into his stomach.
“Look out!” Caleb called, and both gunmen faced forward to find a line of five Scorpions rushing them, each with two guns. The shots flew, and both men ducked without firing. Vance heard the sound of metal on metal as the bullets rained into the door, before he caught the hissed curse of pain from Donnie.
“You’re hit,” he said, seeing blood pouring down the kid’s arm.
Donnie shook his head and moved his hand. “It just grazed me, took a small chunk of skin. It’s nothing I can’t handle, but damn, it burns!” Caleb reached into his pocket and drew out a bandana, tying it around Donnie’s arm to stop the bleeding until he could get fixed up.
Vance started to tell him to trade places, but he could see the need for revenge in the kid’s eyes and understood the desire. “Can you keep going?” he asked.
