by S. Nelson
I know, I know. I’m not supposed to notice other men, but I’m not dead. None of us were interested in anyone but the men who held our hearts, but we also knew a handsome bastard when we saw one. But we weren’t stupid either—girl talk stayed between us. Besides, causing tension between any of the guys just for looking was the last thing we wanted to do.
“I’m sure he was just being polite.” I gave Kena a wink. “We’re gonna grab a drink and try to forget for a little while. Wanna come?”
Please.
We all filed out and headed toward the small bar. It wasn’t anywhere near the size the guys had back home at their clubhouse, but I counted five seats. Yep, it’ll do.
Nash had been standing around talking to a few of the other guys, but as soon as he saw us take a seat, he rushed over and walked behind the bar.
“What can I get you, ladies?” He looked at all of us and smiled, but afterward his attention moved to Kena. He tried not to be obvious, taking all of our orders, but his eyes kept drifting back to my little sister. Maybe he did have a little crush on her.
Over the course of the next two hours, I’d been able to relax a little, doing my best to focus on bonding with the incredible women stuck in the same position as me. For the most part, they seemed to be handling it well, but how much of that was a façade? If I had to guess, I’d say the majority.
Salazar checked in on us a few times, at one point even pulling Nash aside to talk to him before disappearing to his room. He’d been staying in one of the back bedrooms, seemingly taking his promise to keep us safe very seriously.
“Well, that’s it for me.” Sully stretched her arms above her head, her white tank top exposing a small amount of skin, enough to where I saw a scar above the waistband of her shorts. My eyes flicked to hers and I prayed she hadn’t noticed. The last thing I wanted to do was make her feel uncomfortable.
Ryder had told me a few things about her past, enough for me to realize what a strong woman Sully actually was to have gone through what she had and come out the survivor she was today.
“Me too,” Reece yawned, finishing her soda before hopping off her barstool. “You coming?” she asked Kena, squeezing her shoulder.
My sister took another sip and placed her glass on the bar, pushing it toward Nash who was beaming at her. Jagger better not get wind of this.
Someone must’ve filled Nash in on the fact that Kena wasn’t deaf, that she just couldn’t speak, because a few times he asked her a question, then passed her a notepad and pen. His attention toward her wasn’t pushy, but I definitely picked up that he was interested, even though I knew he wasn’t stupid enough to make an actual move on her. He knew better. In fact, Ryder had mentioned that he warned everyone. What exactly that meant, I had no idea, but I could take a guess, especially if it came out of Ryder’s mouth.
I’m ready too, Kena signed, smiling politely at Nash before standing.
“Yep, I’m ready for bed,” Adelaide announced, stifling a yawn as she rose to her feet.
“I guess I am as well,” I agreed, walking behind Kena and whispering in her ear. “You definitely have an admirer.” She looked at the man behind the bar, then back to me.
You’re gonna get me in trouble.
“Not me, lil’ sis. Not me.”
“Good night, ladies,” Nash called out as we disappeared down the hallway.
We’d been assigned two of the bedrooms. Sully and Adelaide shared one with the children, and Reece, Kena and I shared the other, my sister and I sharing a bed while Reece occupied the spare one. Grateful not to have to sleep alone, lost in thoughts of what Ryder was doing at that exact moment, I found solace falling asleep next to Kena. Just like when we were kids and one of us had a nightmare.
Ryder
Two days after we’d arrived back in California, we finally decided to take a drive out to where we believed some of the Reapers were gathered. An hour away from our stomping ground. We planned on exacting a few recon missions, so to speak, before doing anything, but lo and behold, the very first ride we took, we saw a few of our enemy unloading crates from a secluded and otherwise abandoned shipyard.
Maybe Smiley was right after all. Maybe the devices we’d placed on some of their bikes were still active, and they had no clue they were even being tracked. However, extremely cautious and aware it could still be a trap, we never made a move. Not that first time. Instead we returned to the clubhouse to discuss exactly how we wanted to proceed.
Most of the Reapers weren’t the smartest tools in the shed, which had always worked to our advantage when dealing with them, but we did a thorough sweep of our rides, as well as the cages, just to make sure they hadn’t returned the favor and popped some of their own trackers on our vehicles.
When we were satisfied we still had the upper hand, we strapped as many weapons to our bodies as we could, as well as filling up the backs of the cages with enough artillery and ammo to end a war. Which was exactly what we planned to do.
We wanted the other bastard who’d threatened some of the women, but more than that, we needed to take out as many of the Reapers as we could, setting our sights on Rabid more than anyone else. We had to take out the new man in charge before he even had a chance to rally his men. And if Koritz just happened to be there, then we’d make sure he got his as well.
Two days after the first secret visit we’d made, we decided to finally make our move. Marek, Stone, Breck and Jagger rode out in one of the cages, while Tripp, Etch, Smiley, Miles and I occupied the second one. The rest of the guys stayed back at the club per request of our fearless leader. Cutter wanted to go with his son, but in the end he followed orders, remaining on standby along with Trigger and Hawke.
By the time we’d arrived, the sun had long since dipped behind the horizon. Darkness shielded us as we parked half a mile away from the shipyard, the various dilapidated buildings offering us shelter while we cautiously snuck closer to some of the men hanging around the back of one of their trucks. There looked to be six of them, but there could’ve been more inside the building they were extracting the wooden boxes from.
“Too bad we aren’t still in the business,” Etch whispered. “Can you imagine how much fuckin’ money is in those crates?”
“You don’t even know what’s in them,” Tripp replied, pressing his back against a concrete wall when one of the Reapers passed by fifty feet ahead of where we were all huddled.
“Still,” Etch finished, shrugging before following Marek around the corner, disappearing so fast we almost lost both of them.
“Fuck, it’s dark out here,” I mumbled, resting my hand on the handle of my gun just in case anything popped off unexpectedly. Turning a few more corners and hurrying across the yard, hiding now and again to ensure our attack was truly a surprise, we finally came to a place where we could see all the action. Action we were gonna be a part of soon enough.
When my eyes landed on the sight in front of me, I smiled. A two-birds-one-stone kind of smile. Not only had Rabid just exited the building, but Koritz followed directly behind him. They were still too far away to hear their conversation, but whatever they were talking about, neither of them looked too happy. The only light provided came from the full moon and the building, but it was enough for us to see how many people we had to contend with whenever we decided to show ourselves. The desolation of the area couldn’t have been more perfect for executing these bastards and then hiding their bodies in any number of places.
Finally, Koritz threw up his hands, said something incoherent, then walked away. My eyes flicked to Rabid, and with the little I could make out of him, he looked pleased, clasping his hands together one time before walking back toward the building with a cocky gait. As if he’d just been told something he’d wanted to hear.
“You guys ready?” Marek asked, looking at each of us before continuing. “Be fuckin’ careful and watch your back.” I took a step forward, but he stopped me, shaking his head. “Ryder, you go with Jagger, Etch, and Tripp. That
way.” He pointed to our right. “Get behind that building as fast as you can.” Turning to look at Breck, Miles, and Smiley, he instructed, “You guys come with Stone and me. We’re gonna surround them on the other side.”
With a lift of his hand, we began to move into position, creeping around the sides of the crumbling structures to get to the one we needed, when a shrill sound rang out, making us all stop dead in our tracks.
“What the fuck was that?” we heard one of the Reapers shout, looking all around until a few of them started yelling to each other. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, knowing our plan was goin’ right down the shitter because someone left their goddamn phone on. Some asinine song that just put us all in more danger.
“Fuck!” I heard Smiley whisper-shout, trying to silence his cell through his cut, but it kept ringing. The shouting in front of us increased, and we knew we had to make a decision to attack head-on or scatter to the sides like Marek had originally planned. Either way, our enemy knew they had company.
“Shut that thing off,” Stone demanded, grabbing Smiley and pulling him behind the rest of us. Slamming him against the wall of the building, Stone reached into Smiley’s vest, pulled out the device and threw it to the ground, stomping it to pieces at the exact moment it started ringing again. It was probably the first time since I’d met Smiley where he didn’t have a grin kicking up the corners of his mouth.
“Sorry,” Smiley apologized, keeping his distance from the rest of us because he knew he’d just fucked up. Royally. I thought for sure Stone was gonna knock him out, but instead, our VP walked back toward Marek, mumbling something under his breath.
As we took a step to disband, I heard Koritz shout, “Knights!”
Ryder
A spray of bullets sliced through the air the closer we moved toward the men scrambling to hide behind whatever was in front of them, seeking cover anywhere they could find. Although they were just putting off the inevitable. There was a lot of shouting, from us and from them, instructions becoming jumbled until I barely knew who was speaking.
Moving slightly to the left to peer around the corner of the building I was hidden behind, a bullet struck the concrete beside my head, missing me by millimeters. I knew there was a good chance I wasn’t gonna make it out of there alive, so I decided to push fate’s hand and retaliate.
Just as I was about to move into the open, a hand shoved me to the ground, dirt going up my nose I’d been so surprised by the attack. Only it wasn’t an attack at all—it was Marek. Before I could say a word, though, I saw him spin around and fire off two rounds, followed by a thump. Someone falling to the ground not twenty feet behind us.
“Thanks, man” was all I could say. What other response was appropriate?
“Tripp and Jagger made it around back. When I tell you to, I want you to stand and fire. There are three men in front of us, another two off to the left.” How he could see a damn thing with the clouds passing in front of the moon was beyond me, but I had to trust him. And I did. Wholeheartedly.
“Ready?”
“Yeah.” My heart crashed into my chest as a bead of sweat trickled down the side of my face.
“Go!” he yelled, pushing past my body as he barreled forth and fired shot after shot into the night air. With all of the commotion and bullets whizzing past my head, my adrenaline kicked into overdrive, pushing my feet with every step I hadn’t even realized I was taking. “Behind the building. Your left!” Marek shouted before disappearing.
When I’d finally made it to the building, I indeed found Tripp and Jagger. The light from inside the warehouse allowed me to see much more than I could moments before.
“Where’re the rest of the guys?”
“Fuck if I know,” Tripp griped, carefully peering through the window to check things out.
“Anyone in there?” Jagger asked. When he turned to face me, I saw a streak of blood on his neck.
“You get hit?” I moved closer to try and inspect it, but he shook his head.
“Just grazed my skin. Nothing serious.”
“Jesus, what the fuck is goin’ on?” I asked to no one in particular. It seemed like I was drifting through a nightmare, one where all of our lives could be snuffed out in a split second. Only it wasn’t a nightmare at all.
I saw movement to my left and when I turned, gun locked and loaded with my arm outstretched, index finger playing with the trigger, I was two seconds away from firing. Then I saw it was Marek running at us.
“I almost fuckin’ shot you.”
“Good thing you didn’t.” Marek was calm, calmer than he should’ve been in those circumstances. Then again, if he freaked out, where would that leave the rest of us?
“Hey, look who just snuck inside,” Jagger interrupted, glancing from the window to us and back again. When we all turned to look at who he was referring to, we saw Koritz rifling around inside the back of some ol’ truck, seemingly oblivious that there were four of us watching his every movement. All he had to do was look up and he’d see us, but like always, the crooked DEA agent was only worried about himself.
As I pried my eyes away from that bastard, I caught a glimpse of Stone hovering close to the side of the building. He appeared to be hurrying in our direction, but then he stopped, his feet seemingly frozen in place. The popping sounds of guns being fired were still prevalent, so I was baffled as to why he wasn’t seeking cover.
Is he looking for us?
Why isn’t he moving?
I swore the man had no fear, even when he should, and I was sure it all stemmed back to him not being able to feel pain. He could still be killed, however, and the sight of him just standing there pissed me off. Not only for him, but for us in case we bore witness to a sight that would haunt us forever.
Him being taken out.
“What the hell is he doin’?” Marek asked, shouting a barrage of obscenities before moving past us and toward his best friend.
But he was too late.
My mouth wouldn’t open to warn him. I couldn’t move, frozen in place much like Stone. Time slowed but didn’t allow me the ability to do a goddamn thing other than watch. My heart skipped a beat and my vision blurred.
A man came out of the brush and walked up behind Stone, standing a few feet from him and pointing the gun at the back of his head. He was unaware that our leader was rushing toward him, and right before Marek tackled him, the light from the gun flashed brightly.
Stone’s head jerked forward before he was thrown to the ground, his lifeless body sprawled out in front of us. As soon as Marek saw what happened, he went crazy, jamming his gun into the man’s mouth and pulling the trigger. When he finally rose to his feet, his right shoulder jerked backward, his feet stumbling to keep him upright.
At that point, I’d come unglued and raced past Jagger and Tripp, intent on running right into the crosshairs of the bullets still relentlessly being fired.
I was feet from Marek when a pain sliced through my thigh, my leg locking up and suddenly becoming dead weight. I lurched forward, my arms reaching out to find something solid to brace me, but there was nothing. I’d made it to the edge of the building and unfortunately had a clear view of the scene continuing to unfold in front of me.
Another bullet pierced Marek, that time in the chest. He was thrown backward, his gun falling to his side and not in front of him to ward off another attack.
As my legs gave out and I fell to the ground, Tripp and Jagger were next to me. Jagger threw off his cut, ripped off his shirt and made quick work of tying it around my thigh, instinctively knowing where I’d been hit. Did they see it happen?
“Did you really think you’d win, you piece of shit,” Koritz shouted, stepping from the building with his weapon raised to finish off our president. He spit on the ground near Marek’s head. “You made a big mistake making Carrillo cut off all ties with the Reapers. That decision affected me too, ya know.” Koritz’s foot connected with Marek’s wounded shoulder. “Now you’ll finally get what
you deserve.” Laughing, he turned and looked toward Stone’s body. “Looks like you’ll be joining your VP soon enough,” he threatened, stepping forward to snatch Marek’s life.
“I don’t think so,” a gruff voice said, walking up behind the DEA agent and shoving a gun into his back. Whoever it was remained in the shadows, hiding so I couldn’t get a good look at him. His voice sounded familiar, though.
Koritz whipped around, lowering his gun because he obviously knew the man; otherwise, he would’ve fired on him. It was then that Tripp made a move toward Marek, but before he got too far, I grabbed his leg. If he had any chance of not getting shot himself, he needed to assess the situation.
Thankfully Koritz was engaged at the moment, but how long would that last? Who was he even talking to?
“Be careful,” I urged, releasing him and wincing as Jagger tied the material tighter around my wound. Seconds later my vision started to tunnel, but I fought like hell to stay alert.
“What are you doin’? We’re on the same side,” Koritz said, lifting his weapon back in front of him.
The mystery man laughed. “No we aren’t.”
Koritz wasted no time in pulling his trigger, but nothing happened. Two more clicks sounded before he tossed his weapon to the ground at the man’s feet. He knew he was out of ammo and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to defend himself, so he started spouting off at the mouth instead.
My attention flicked to Tripp, who’d been able to sneak up next to Marek, but as soon as he looked toward the two men in front of him, he froze.
“Oh, so now that I gave you my contact’s name, you’re gonna kill me?” When the man remained silent, it was clear that was exactly what was goin’ down. Koritz started bargaining for his life the split second he realized he was expendable. “I’ll give ya whatever you want. Half of my take. What do ya say?”
The shadowed man finally stepped forward.
It was Rabid.
The Savage Reaper’s VP himself.
