by Carmen Faye
Donnie nodded with a feral expression. “Damn straight!”
They went for another round, and Vance was relieved to see some of the men who had gone to the front had made it around. They were covering each other with gun fire as they pulled some of the downed men out of the line of fire. He was careful in his shots, making sure he didn’t accidentally hit one of his own. The number of Scorpions finally seemed to be dwindling, the shots coming slower, and he motioned to Donnie to follow him as he stepped outside.
A shot came from his left, and Vance turned to answer it, shooting through the Scorpion’s hand and knocking his gun to the ground. He screamed and reached for another pistol, but Donnie caught his jugular, and the enemy was gone. Two guys rushed from behind the SUV full of dead or dying Scopions, but they only had knives, and Vance took them both easily with a single shot to the head.
Donnie had engaged a couple of Scorpions inside the shop, who apparently had surrendered at gunpoint, and he was angry, pistol-whipping them across the face and kicking them in the ribs. Vance didn’t blame him. If he was ten years younger, he’d probably express his anger the same way. He’d been prone to it at one point anyway, and Donnie hadn’t just been hit. Vance didn’t know yet if Cougar was alive or not, which meant the kid could have lost his mentor.
As the rest of the guys who had come around from the front gathered, Vance could hear motorcycles revving, and he moved with several of the others, Donnie included, to catch as many of the retreating Scorpions as they could. Vance aimed for tires and watched four bikes crash, with Donnie and the others catching five more. But Vance wanted blood, and he ran toward the downed men, his brothers right behind him.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Two of the Scorpions were barely scratched, and they pulled weapons. Vance ran right past them as his crew took care of business. He focused on a figure just down the road. He knew that head of long, curly hair, and he rushed toward it, both guns aimed.
Antonio wasn’t moving, except for breathing heavily, and Vance could hear the pained growl. As he approached, he saw the crazy brute’s leg caught under the bike, and from the odd angle, Vance was sure it was a compound fracture. He could also see his enemy’s ankle, and the kickstand had shoved right through it, causing massive bleeding and likely torn ligaments.
“Hijo de puta!” Antonio shouted through clenched teeth. “Because of you, my boy is gone. Did you really think I wouldn’t find you, cabron?”
“It doesn’t look like it matters now,” Vance told him, his emotions turned off completely. “I didn’t kill your boy. He killed himself. And he did that because your crew, your hermanos, didn’t take care of him properly. So, if you want to know the truth, I just took care of business for you. All these men who betrayed you that way are dead. My boys helped you more than your men did. How do you feel about that?”
Antonio winced in pain, snarled, and spit on Vance’s boot. “Suck my dick!”
Vance nodded, still feeling nothing. “That’s what I thought you’d say. See you in hell, Antonio.” The man pressed his forehead to the barrel of the gun an instant before Vance pulled the trigger, blowing straight through his skull and spraying debris of bone and brain all over the road. The man fell back instantly, and though Vance knew it should give him a sense of satisfaction to know Antonio was dead, he still felt nothing.
He stood there for quite some time, hearing a few random gunshots behind him, and eventually, he felt a hand on his arm. He turned his head slowly and saw Caleb at his side. “Hey, man, we’ll clean up later. Come in and have a drink. We’ve got a crew to fix up.”
It was the right thing to say. Vance didn’t know if anything else could have turned his emotions back on, but knowing a lot of his brothers were injured—and it was all because he’d been too stupid to think ahead—kicked his responses into high gear. He clapped Caleb on the shoulder with a silent thanks and hurried back inside.
The place looked like a makeshift tent in a warzone. There were men on tables, men on the floor, and others running around tending to them. He counted at least fifteen injured, and things were so crazy at that moment he wasn’t sure he could see all of them. What he did know was that he needed to find Cougar and see if he made it, and then he needed to find Dusty and have him call Doc and Bert, getting both of them up here now.
Dusty sat on a barstool all the way across the bar, and Vance was forced to pick his way through brothers on the ground to get to him. To his relief, most of them looked like a few stitches or maybe removing a bullet would have them good as new. There were a few, though, who looked worse for the wear. He’d get back to those after he talked to Dusty. He wanted to assess the damage, but he couldn’t really do anything until Doc arrived.
He stopped as he neared his friend, noting that he, too, was bleeding and holding a bloodied rag to his chest. Vance started to rush over, but he was halted again as Maya came out from the back with her arms full of medical supplies. She piled them on the bar next to Dusty and went to work as if she didn’t have a care in the world and only wanted to help.
Storming the rest of the way, he grabbed Maya viciously by the elbow and demanded, “What are you doing out here? You were supposed to be in the back.” He glared at Joe as he, too, came out with first aid materials.
Joe glared back. “Relax, Ice. She just came out about three minutes ago and insisted on helping. The last shot was fired more than twenty minutes ago.”
Had he really stood over Antonio’s dead body so long? He shook his head and turned to Maya to apologize, but she didn’t look very forgiving at that moment. He realized, as she stared at his hand on her arm he was still holding her, and probably too tight. He released her, and she jerked back, giving him a warning look. “You put me back there to protect me, and all these men stood in front of me to keep me safe. I owe them something, and I’m going to do my best to pay it back by taking care of them the best I can.” She looked him over quickly, still angry but also concerned. “You aren’t hurt?”
He shook his head, not knowing what to say. He understood her position, but he didn’t want anything to happen to her, and there was no guarantee another gang wouldn’t ride in. He wasn’t stupid; there were likely a dozen or so Scorpions who had gotten away, and they’d go back to regroup.
And he also didn’t appreciate the way she spoke to him in front of the crew. Vance wasn’t the typical chauvinist, and he respected Maya for her confidence and independence. Yet, a woman should know her place, especially in a situation that involved dating a man who headed a motorcycle club. She wasn’t even an old lady…yet.
Gritting his teeth, he let it go as she turned to play doctor with Dusty, not even bothering to wait for a response from Vance. He asked his brother, “What happened?”
Dusty winced as Maya cleaned the wound on the right side of his chest, and Vance saw it didn’t look like a gunshot. “I ran out of ammo but managed to get around behind one of the Scorpions who’d made it into the shop, but before I could get him, he ducked my grasp and shanked me.”
Vance knew Dusty had been lucky; another couple of inches to the left, and he’d be dead. It also didn’t look too deep, which meant his brother had moved just in time to avoid serious damage. He blanched as he watched Maya thread a needle. “Have you done this before?” he asked skeptically.
She gave him a quick glance and nodded, still looking very displeased with him. This time, he figured it was the doubt he expressed in her. He was going to keep his mouth shut now; his rage and fear were going to incite a fight he didn’t want to have, especially right now.
“I already called Doc, and Joe called Bert,” Dusty told him before he said anything. Vance nodded, enthralled with Maya’s tender but efficient work as she sewed up the wound. She did well enough that Vance figured it might not scar badly. And as she tied off the thread and snipped, Donnie limped over.
Vance frowned at him, and he gave a rueful grin. “Leave it to me to twist an ankle beating the shit out of a Scorpion.” He had a
hand on his arm, and the blood was soaking through the cloth he held there. “Hey, Maya, do you think you could handle another one?”
She gave him a welcoming grin. “Sure, have a seat, and I’ll get right to it.” She looked up at Vance and told him, “Tell anyone who needs stitches to line up. I’ll take care of it.” It was a directive, not even a request, and rather than cause a scene, Vance walked away. He needed to see how grave some of the injuries were anyway. As he weaved through the makeshift triage center, Bert burst through the front door, his face full of complete and utter surprise. Vance wanted to put on brass knuckles and blast it right off. He should have known something like this would go down, and he should have been here, prepared to help.
But Vance kept his distance. His emotions, dulled and dead such a short time ago, were riding high now, and he didn’t trust himself. He stayed busy checking on his brothers, but when he reached the other side of the bar and rounded the corner, his heart sank.
Caleb sat on the ground next to Tiny, both of them with their heads hanging. In front of them were two still bodies, and Vance had to swallow bile that rose in his mouth. His throat burned, and he had a hard time believing what he was seeing. But the hopelessness in Caleb’s eyes when he looked up at Vance’s approach spoke volumes.
Cougar and Joker were both dead.
“We tried,” Tiny rasped, obviously overwrought. He and Joker had been close, coming on with the Mojave Boys at the same time and originating from the same background. Nearing fifty, they had always been more like brothers than any of the rest of them, and Vance knew it was going to take a huge toll on Tiny. “Looked like Cougar might pull through for a minute, but we lost them both.”
Vance sighed and crouched down to pay his respects. Cougar had been a source of contention for him from time to time, but in the end, Vance had nothing but respect for him, and he’d been a good, loyal man. And Joker was the type of guy everyone liked, the old timer with all the quirky things to say, always good for a laugh.
As he stood, it took every bit of Vance’s willpower not to tear down the entire bar with rage and disappointment. It was just as hard not to take one of the bikes parked outside and go after the rest of the Scorpions, either wiping them out or dying in the attempt. But he still had brothers to protect, and he had Maya to consider. These men had stood up for him and were injured saving him, and he would respect that, staying as safe as possible.
Gathering himself and getting to his feet, he looked around for Bert. He’d wait to talk to Donnie until Maya finished with him. The kid was going to act out, and it would take several of the brothers to force him to be sensible. In the meantime, Vance had some words for their nonelected leader.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Maya had to keep her hands busy so they wouldn’t tremble. She was so shaken she could barely contain her emotions, and the only thing that kept her panic at bay was cleaning and sewing wounds. She didn’t even want to look at Vance right now. When it came to seeing him, she was torn.
She was relieved he wasn’t hurt, and she wanted desperately to lean on him for support. But at the same time, she was livid at him. Of course, he couldn’t control what another motorcycle gang did, but he was responsible for the tension between the rival gangs, and for the rogues who were most certainly the ones who had just attacked the clubhouse.
On top of that, he’d promised her they would be safe here, that no one would find him. Dusty’s reaction when they’d arrived told her that wasn’t true, and her instincts had her on edge. Yet, Vance had come in from their conversation acting mostly normal, and she’d taken that to mean the threat was minimal. It gave her a false sense of security, almost as though he’d lied to her. She was so angry about that she could spit fire.
At least most of the men were grateful for her help, and when she’d finally gotten to everyone that needed immediate attention, she packed up the remaining supplies and took them to Doc, who was apparently the trained doctor of the crew. He thanked her, and Maya thought about offering her assistance, but she was ready to find Vance and give him a piece of her mind.
He was nowhere to be seen, and she started stepping around recovering men and weaving through the others who were trying to help, searching for him. She reached the other end of the bar, and she stopped dead in her tracks. Covering her mouth to hold back a scream, Maya shook her head violently, not wanting to process the image of the two men in front of her.
Dusty grabbed her and pulled her away, forcing her to face the other direction. “Okay, Maya, come on. You need to sit down,” he told her, moving her not quite against her will but without her assistance toward one of the nearest barstools. She stared at him, words failing her. He just nodded. “It happens, Maya. It’s like any other war. Men are lost, usually good men.”
“Cougar,” was all she could say. She didn’t know the other man’s name; she’d only seen him in passing once or twice. But she’d interacted with Cougar. He couldn’t be dead, could he?
Dusty banged a fist on the counter, making her jump, but Joe was there with a shot of something right away. Dusty passed it to her. “Here, this will take the edge off.”
Not even tasting the burning fluid, Maya tossed it back, her mind focusing on the image that was now burned into her memory. “Where’s Vance?” she asked, and her voice sounded far away to her ears.
He’s in the back, with Bert,” Dusty told her. “Come with me, and we’ll find him.” He got her on her feet, and she let him take her elbow, following him in a daze to the kitchen behind the bar and down the narrow, winding aisle created by the boxes of liquor and supplies stacked everywhere. She had gone this way earlier, toward the storage room. That made Maya laugh internally; the storage room was more of a janitorial closet and mini-office. The materials that she would have expected to find in storage were here and there and everywhere else.
The door was ajar, and Maya recognized one of the voices in the heated argument on the other side as belonging to Vance. She had thought she would be angry or relieved or something, but she was just numb. The minimal medical training she had told her she was in shock, but she couldn’t manage to snap out of it.
Dusty rapped on the door with his knuckles but didn’t wait for a response to push it open. Bert was the other man in the room, and he and Vance were practically chest to chest in their angry discussion. Now, though, both heated expressions were fixed on Dusty and then on her, and Maya stood there, not moving for fear her legs would buckle beneath her. She was a strong woman, but even she had seen too much in the last several days to remain unaffected.
Vance made a move like he was going to come to her, but Dusty held out a hand to stop him. “I think the two of you need to speak in private.” Maya watched as if from a distance, as he exchanged glances with Bert, who then turned to assess her from head to toe. He didn’t look happy at all, and his jaw was set in a firm sign of a rather violent disagreement.
Finally, the man looked back at Vance and spat, “You might want to consider that you brought this on us before you start pointing fingers at someone else and claiming it was their oversight.” He walked away, pushing past Maya with such force she probably would have fallen over if Dusty hadn’t caught her. He called back, “This isn’t finished, Ice!”
“That’s for damn sure! We’ll put it to a vote tomorrow!” Vance called after him.
“Enough!” Dusty said sharply, the first time Maya had ever heard authority in his voice. “Get over it, Ice. You know very well what’s going down tomorrow morning at the meeting, and I can guarantee you everyone is going to listen to what you have to say. Right now, you have more important things to consider. You need to take care of your girl. This isn’t her scene, and she’s been busting ass to make sure we all get cleaned up, sewn up, and shored up. Now, she needs some attention of her own.”
Vance very clearly didn’t like being told what to do or how to do it, and she saw him clenching his fists at his sides. Even in her own lack of feeling, she recognized the sign
s of his incensed ire, and she definitely wasn’t going to be the one to open the cage to a dangerous animal. She focused on her own actions and forced herself to look at Dusty and smile. “Thank you, Dusty; I got it from here.”
He didn’t look convinced, and as he nodded, Maya had a feeling he was going to wait just outside the door, in case they got into an argument that spiraled out of control. Maya had no such plans, but with Vance so on edge, there was no telling what could happen.
“Are you okay?” The question was barely audible, and Maya just stared at Vance for a moment to make sure he’d asked it and that it wasn’t just in her head.
“I’m not injured, if that’s what you mean. I was here throughout the whole thing, worried sick that something was going to happen to you.” She heard the venom in her voice, but she couldn’t keep it at bay. “But mentally and emotionally, I’m a wreck. You told me everything was going to be okay, Vance. This is not okay.”
He let out a long breath before he answered. “I know it’s not okay, Maya. But it’s over now.” There was hesitation in his words, and she crossed her arms defiantly, waiting for him to continue. With a grim expression, he corrected, “It’s over for now, at least. And we took out enough of them that they’ll back off.”
