by Jc Emery
“Put down the gun,” I say to the man across from me.
He ignores me and snarls at Leo. “You would prefer the company of trash over your oath.”
I really do hate to be called trash. People in fancy cars and pricey suits always want to judge us because we would rather live it up in comfort without pretense than to force ourselves to pretend as though were something we’re not. And I’m fucking sick of it.
I squeeze the trigger with my pointer finger, aiming the gun at the guy’s chest. I know better than to shoot for any reason but to kill. That’s one of the first lessons dad taught me when he first introduced me to the guns back when I was in kindergarten. Before that, we had always had guns around the house, but I knew better than to ask to touch one. It’s not a toy. It’s a weapon designed for destruction.
My bullet lands in the guy’s shoulder, more than six inches left of my intended target. Leo raises his gun, and without a moment’s notice, he’s fired and landed two more bullets into the guy’s chest. His body falls backward, and his gun spills from his hand.
CHAPTER 25
April
12 months to Mancuso’s downfall
Leo eyes me, his gun still raised, and starts to turn toward me. I reposition and stand quickly, pointing my gun at him. We’re at a stalemate.
“If you shoot me, you won’t walk away from it,” he says.
“You’re outnumbered. You may kill me, but I’ll scream before I die. You have a gun trained on the sergeant at arms’s daughter. Do you really think you’ll walk away from that?”
“It seems we have a situation, then.”
“No, I don’t think you want to cause any damage. If you wanted to, you could’ve hurt Mindy and Holly when you kidnapped them. But you didn’t. You could’ve hurt Gloria when you went back to New York asking questions. But you didn’t. And you could have hurt me, but I’m still standing.”
“I didn’t realize how much of their business Forsaken shared with their women.”
I smile, knowing full well this guy’s history with Alex. He’s young and attractive and obviously well built, but he’s got some kind of major damage about women to think it acceptable to barter for one. Mancuso and his men would never willingly share details of their business with the women in their lives. They are to be pretty and seen, but most definitely never heard.
“They don’t.” Feeling brave, I smirk. “A good friend of mine once told me that men will never willingly share their secrets. So I took matters into my own hands.” It’s not like after this the club won’t know anyway.
“Ah, I see you’ve made friends with my princess,” he says.
I shake my head. “She’s not your princess. She’s our Alex.”
“What do you hope to accomplish by pointing the gun at me?”
I’m so tense and terrified in this moment that I’m scarcely able to keep my target in sight. “The same thing you’re hoping for—a means to an end. Now, what do you want with Michael?”
He’s silent, holding out for several long, suffocating moments. His brow line is smooth, his jaw is relaxed, and his eyes seem decided. There is no confusion in this man.
“I belong to an organization that has failed to provide a leader. An ignorant, self-absorbed, bloodthirsty twit has attempted to take over. Michael was sent here by that twit, and as it stands, he is the only person who remains in my family that I can trust.”
“The way I see it is that you could be of use to my family. I’m tired of losing them to this war. If we don’t figure out a way to put an end to it soon, there won’t be any of us left—in my family or yours.”
“You’re not patched, and you never will be. You don’t have the authority to create an alliance with me.”
“No, but I am the only chance you have of getting out of here alive. The only way my father, my boyfriend, and my uncles will leave your heart beating is if I demand it. The way I see it, you don’t have a choice.”
“I need to speak with Michael. Gloria claims your club is treating him well, but I need to see him alive before I make any deal with you.”
Think, Cheyenne. Think. I need something more for Leo to trust me. Crap.
I tilt my head slightly to the right and look to the house. From this angle, I can see the shadow of a man standing watch at the front door. He adjusts his position just slightly and moves into the light enough for me to see his face. It’s Daniel.
“The man at the front door has betrayed my family. His president ditched his ass. Once Rig realized we figured out what they were doing, he ran. He’s either dead or gone by now. Either way, you don’t have them either. Daniel doesn’t have the balls to face what he’s done, so it’s going to be your ass hung out to dry.”
“Yes, I’m aware of Tony’s involvement in forcing your Detroit president’s hand,” Leo says.
“I want your word that if I get you to Michael and promise that I’ll keep you alive at least long enough to have a sit down with the club, you won’t be a threat to us anymore.”
“I can’t promise an alliance, though I can promise an honest attempt at compromise,” he says and lowers his gun slowly. I nod my head and do the same.
“Okay, don’t judge me, but I don’t know what the hell to do now,” I say with a nervous laugh. We’re facing the cabin, and I can’t stop staring at Daniel. I’m not even remotely confident that he’ll have my back, but I’m out of resources. “I’m toast.”
“And you were doing so well,” Leo says with a chuckle. He walks toward the house and signals for me to follow. I want to ask him if that chuckle means he’s not planning on killing me or if he’s figured out how to do it, but I think I’ve already used up all my courage because I’m fresh out of snarky comments and energy.
We step out from the trees and into the clearing surrounding the cabin. I move to stand beside Leo when suddenly he grabs me around my neck and pulls me up against his torso. Shocked by the sudden jostling, I forget the gun in my hand and close my eyes, fearful that this is the end. By the time I remember I have a weapon, it’s too late.
“Hide the gun and just go with it,” he says quietly.
I open my eyes and take a deep breath, clicking the safety on and shoving the gun into the back of my jeans. I squirm from the discomfort of the hard metal against my spine. I don’t know how the guys walk around like this all the time. I’m going to have to get a holster if this kind of shit is going to keep happening.
He walks me to the front door with his gun to my head. Daniel catches sight of us as we round the side of the porch. He doesn’t move to lift his gun or bother with taking cover. Like the traitorous asshole he is, he smiles.
A loopy sickness overtakes me, reminding me of the situation I’m in. The guys can’t still be on the other side of the trees. I assured them I wasn’t hurt the first time but didn’t the second or the third time a gun was fired. I don’t doubt that they are slowly making their way through the woods to me. I just have to ensure that Leo and I get to Michael before the club gets to us. I might be able to convince the club not to shoot him on sight, but if I have to convince them to allow him to see Michael and agree to a sit down, then I’m going to end up breaking my word. Leo’s right, I don’t have the authority to be making alliances on behalf of Forsaken. Thankfully, I’m all he has, and he knows it.
“Finally. Guards are dead inside, and the kid is detained. Put up a fight and had to knock him around a bit, but he’s breathing. Fucker was walking around like he owns the goddamn place,” Daniel says. The very sight of him makes me angry, but the sound of his voice forces a violent shudder over my entire body. I don’t just hate him—I actually loathe his very existence. “Looks like you brought me a present.” Daniel licks his lips and gives me a wink.
“How do I know I can trust you?” Leo asks. He forces us up the steps within feet of Daniel.
“Let me show you,” Daniel says. He lifts his gun and points it at my head.
People say their life flashes before their eyes, but t
hat doesn’t happen to me. I experience a deep sense of regret and sorrow for the things I’ve never gotten to do. I don’t know why, after so many men have died this afternoon, but it’s only now it truly sinks in that I might not live to see nineteen. The realization eats away at me, taking small little chunks of my protective shield with it and leaving me desperate for an end.
I don’t know what I was thinking, bargaining with a Made man. I don’t know what I was thinking of running into the woods, into danger, without a weapon. I don’t even know what I was thinking when I started investigating Mindy’s rape. Every decision I’ve made weighs on me. I was a senior in high school and looking forward to graduation. I ditched class, spent too much time with my friends, and flirted with football players. Aside from the club, everything in my life was typical. I wasn’t more beautiful than any other girl in school, I wasn’t smarter than anybody else either, and I didn’t stand out in any way I can fathom.
Not until I put my mind to righting a very big wrong. My friends’ problems, like being so far from the mall, became trivial, and I started to find it difficult to listen to their childish whining. The football players were suddenly all talk with very little to back it up. And somehow the most important thing in my life became the thing I just spent a lifetime without—a mother.
I just wanted to show Holly that she could be safe here, with us, and that she could be happy. I never wanted her to be so damaged and so afraid of life. I thought if I could solve the mystery of who hurt her best friend, it would make everything better for her. But I didn’t solve it, because the club already knew, and they were already taking steps to rectify the situation. I should have known better.
“Why?” I ask.
Daniel’s smile turns predatory, and he rubs his thumb across his bottom lip. “Because Fort Bragg has fucked up peace treaties across the country with their unprovoked strike against the Italians in Brooklyn.” He obviously knows nothing if he thinks that’s what this war is about, which only confirms my suspicion that Rig didn’t just lie to us—he lied to Daniel, too.
“Is that what your president told you?” Leo asks. All trace of humor is now gone, and in its place is a solemnness that I don’t expect. “I suppose he left out the part about his kidnapped wife and children who are to be sold overseas should he fail?”
If ever there were a reason to betray the brotherhood, I suppose that would be it. Not that I agree with Rig’s actions, but I don’t envy the choice he had to make. I knew that if Rig was working with Mancuso, there had to be a reason for it. Brothers don’t turn on the patch just because they get tired of the old regime.
“It’s unfortunate that you committed yourself to a cause that doesn’t exist and that you’ll lose your life for a crime you no doubt had little choice but to commit,” Leo says. Daniel’s eyes flutter for a moment before it registers what Leo’s words mean.
He’s a dead man.
Daniel redirects his gun to Leo, who takes a step back from me and moves to point his own at Daniel. It worked last time, so I try again. Pulling the gun from the back of my jeans and clicking the safety off, I direct it at Daniel. I distract him just enough for his eyes to slide to mine, ignoring Leo’s movements.
Just moments ago I wanted this man dead, but now that I know Leo’s going to do it for me, I feel a small amount of pity for him. Daniel closes his eyes and drops the gun on the porch. I force the words from my mouth, though they come quietly.
“I’m sorry.”
Leo’s bullet shoots from the gun and wedges itself in Daniels chest. He tumbles backward, nearly falling over a metal folding chair in his path. Once he’s down, he doesn’t move. Leo steps in front of me, turns the knob on the front door, and swings it open before redirecting his gun to clear the room. He tugs me inside after him and continues to lead us farther into the house.
“Don’t pity him.”
“I don’t,” I say, “I haven’t forgotten his betrayal. It just sucks knowing another person has died because they were lied to.”
The fear that crept up on me as Daniel had his gun directed at my brain doesn’t dissipate. I’m eighteen. I’m not trained for this, nor do I want to be. For the first time since Jeremy back down from my father, I consider that maybe it was a good thing. Because now, having nearly died a few times at the hands of different men, I want nothing more than to get the hell away from this life. I want to go to school, and I want to see the world—or at least other parts of California. I want to be a teenager, not a murderer. I guess I’m not cut out to be an old lady after all.
“Where is he?” Leo asks.
“I don’t know. There’s no basement, no attic, and no torture chamber.”
“Okay then, I guess we’re going to wing it.”
Leo leads us out of the living area—it’s smaller than I remember—to the kitchen and then around to Ian’s bedroom. I try to recall the layout of the house and think where they would stash somebody they wanted to keep control of. Every room has a window, including the bathroom. The cabin has only one bedroom and no extra spaces like an office or anything. Decades before I was born, Jim’s dad, Rage, built this place as a getaway for him and his wife, Sylvia. I force myself to remember the story Ruby told me about the cabin, thinking it might be somehow significant.
Rage and Sylvia had a place in town where they raised Jim until the day a social worker showed up at the house with a three-month-old baby claiming Jim was the father. According to Ruby, Jim was barely nineteen and hadn’t yet started prospecting for the club. He was more interested in racing his bike in the undeveloped dirt track behind the high school and drinking himself stupid than he was in doing something to better himself. Ruby said Sylvia had told her once that Jim didn’t want under his father’s thumb any more than he already was. So Rage had this house built small enough to avoid people making themselves at home. The only indulgence Sylvia had asked for was her closet—she wanted a closet the size of a small bedroom.
“The closet!” I say loudly, and without thinking, I reach up to smack Leo’s arm. He ignores my enthusiasm and strides across Ian’s bedroom to the closed door.
“Michael?” Leo says with a shout.
From the other side of the door, muffled curse words sound. Leo moves to stand in front of me and swings the door open, keeping his gun drawn and ready just in case. When Leo’s stance relaxes, he steps into the closet and allows me to see what he’s dealing with. Michael is gagged and bound to a metal folding chair. His face has been pounded, and he’s struggling against his restraints. “Hold still.”
Leo pulls out a knife from his pants pocket and cuts away Michael’s binds. When he’s freed, he stands awkwardly, favoring his left foot over his right. I suppose it’s not his face that got the brunt of it. Michael pulls the gag from his mouth and sucks in a desperate breath before saying, “About fucking time.”
Feet fall against the hardwood floors, sounding like a herd of charging buffalo. Leo reaches his arm out and shoves me behind him, drawing his gun at the open door. The first person through the door is Dad and then Uncle Jim, followed by Jeremy. Jeremy has another handgun, but the others all have what I think are AR-15s. They’re large and require two hands, too big to operate on a daily basis. Heavy firepower, that’s for sure.
“Let her go, or you get a bullet in your fucking skull, Scavo!” Dad shouts. His face is a dark red, and I can see veins popping out from over here. Michael stands on the other side of Leo and raises his arms in the air.
“She’s not a prisoner,” Leo says. “It seems you raised a woman skilled in hostile negotiations.”
“What the fuck did he just say?” Jeremy shouts.
Christ, this isn’t good, and it’s only going to get worse. Deep breath, Cheyenne. You can do this. I’ve made my proverbial bed, and now I can lie in it. Grounded. For the rest of my life. I really have to start thinking things through before acting. Dad doesn’t even like me to sneak his beer let alone make deals on behalf of his club. Shit, even he’s not allowed to d
o that.
I sidestep Leo, gun in hand, and turn my back to the club. I couldn’t see everybody who’s crowded in and behind the doorway, but I know it’s a mass. More than there were earlier, I’m sure.
“Give me the gun,” I say to Leo. “I gave you my word that I wouldn’t let them kill you.” To show him that I’m serious, I empty Jeremy’s gun of its bullets and toss them one direction and the gun the other, onto Ian’s bed.
“I give you my gun, I’m a dead man,” Leo says.
“You can’t show them you’re not a threat if you have the ability to hurt me,” I reply. “I’m going to need your knife, too.”
Michael finally speaks up and says, “She came willingly,” to the club and then to Leo, “Trust her.” When he finally hands over his piece and knife, I toss the knife on the floor, keeping the gun in my hand, and then turn to my dad.
“Leo could have killed me, but he didn’t. He just wants answers like we all do. I promised him you’d hear him out and we could see about a cease fire.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Uncle Jim says. Anger floods his expression, and he stomps forward, repositioning himself with his gun still on Leo. Dad moves to the side, allowing more men into the room. Behind Dad, Jeremy flanks Uncle Jim, followed by Wyatt and Bear, all inside the cramped space with their AR15s in hand.
“He saved my life,” I say again and move to stand in front of him.
“You can trust him,” Michael says with a nod to Uncle Jim. Something flashes in Jim’s eyes, and he lowers his weapon.
“I came here for answers, not a war,” Leo says. “All I ask is that you hear me out. I have some intel you’re going to need if you plan on making it out of this thing whole.”
But we’re not whole. We keep losing men, and women keep getting hurt, and everybody is afraid to go on living their lives. The rest of them can’t really leave because they are the club and have nothing outside of it. Some were born to it and some purposefully tied themselves to it. Maybe they can’t go, but I can. I can go to school and live my life. I can experience independence and see what life is like outside of this small town. Because I want experiences that don’t include guns, and death, and so much fear.
