Riker swivel back around to see that the long barrel of an automatic weapon was now pointed at his chest. His eyes widened as he recognized Fat Freddy, the guard from the prison. Fat Freddy’s sausage- like finger pulled back on the trigger and zeroed in on Riker. The laser-sight painted a green dot right over his heart.
“How do you like me now, Mother Fucker?” Freddy yelled out, his eyes filled with maniacal blood thirst. Freddy pushed down in rapid succession on the trigger and Riker prepared himself to meet his maker.
Nothing.
Fat Freddy was out of ammo.
Riker led out a rebel yell, jumped up on the back of a church pew, then leapt up about five feet to the bottom of the upper balcony. Fury driven adrenalin coursed through Riker’s body as he used the heavy muscles in his arms to pull himself up, then he balanced for a second on his heels before he leapt over the balustrade.
Riker acted on pure animal instinct.
When the shooter tossed the empty gun aside and bent down to get the loaded AK7, Riker pounced. He went at the former correctional officer with all he had. Church pews splintered all around them as Riker used his fury to push Freddy through to the floor. Once the asshole was down, Riker shoved his face into the splintered debris. Then Riker pressed his knee hard into Fat Freddy’s spine. He heard Freddy’s arm pop out of its socket as he pulled his hands behind his back.
As sweat poured down Riker’s face, his hands grew slick with perspiration and his grip began to slip. He flexed his forearm and put more weight on the shooter’s thick wrists. Freddy yelped out in agony as multiple carpal bones snapped like dry twigs under the pressure.
“The next thing I break will be your fucking spine, cocksucker.” Riker applied more pressure against Freddy’s back bone. “Who else is with you? Is anyone else shooting.”
“No…no.” Freddy sputtered.
Just then a heavy boot shot out and stepped on the side of the Freddy’s face. That boot increased the pressure until the face had turned a mottled purple. “You plant anything in the church? Booby traps, bombs, trip wires? Anything?” Prosper growled out.
“Nothing.” Freddy wheezed out.
Suddenly the careening sound of the alarm stopped its loud ringing. A deadly and sudden silence fell over the cathedral. Riker swiveled his head in the direction of the sound of multiple heavy footsteps. Men in riot gear filled the church, while droves of EMTs were right behind them.
“We got this.” A man in uniform told Riker and Prosper. “Step away. We got this.”
Prosper was only mildly surprised to see Special Agent Kennedy walk towards him. “I’m sure there are people that you need to attend to. Let us deal with this slime.” He said.
“I want to be the one to cuff this motherfucker.” Riker rasped. Prosper still had not released the pressure from the side of Fat Freddy’s face.
With a nod from Kennedy, an officer tossed Riker the cuffs and with great reluctance, Prosper released the pressure very slowly from the shooter’s face.
Riker cuffed Freddy so that the steel bit hard into his fat wrists. Then he gave him a couple of well-placed hard kicks before he hauled him to his feet.
“Get that piece of shit out of my sight.” Kennedy instructed his men as they began to move Durants toward the exit. “And be real careful going down the stairs with him. We wouldn’t want the ass wipe to stumble and…oh…let’s say …blow out his knee cap or anything.”
“Guys like that? Guys who open fire on innocents? Who wore the uniform for years and abused the position they hold? Men like that should be shot.” Kennedy spat out in an uncharacteristic display of animosity.
After a pause, his steel gray eyes turned to Prosper and Riker,
“We’ve been watching Fred Durants for a while now…” Agent Kennedy began.
“Oh yeah? Apparently not close e-fucking-nuff.” Riker spat out.
Then he left Prosper and Agent Kennedy to hash it out while he went to find his family. Riker fought to keep his eyes focused ahead and his spine ramrod straight as he made his way across the church. First responders were shouting out orders and IV bags were being hung everywhere. The sound of more ambulances quickly approaching could be heard in the distance. Jules, a trained medic, was helping out with the more serious injuries.
“Riker!!!”
Riker turned to see a blood soaked Gianni stumbling towards him in a panic. “Gia, Rourke? Dolly? I can’t find them, I can’t find them!”
“Jesus.” Prosper was suddenly by his side. He turned to Riker. “I got this. Go get them.”
“Where are they?!” Gianni yelled out in panicked exasperation.
“Riker’s got them locked up. They’re all safe and sound.” Prosper told him. Then he watched on in horror as blood continued to soak through Gianni’s shirt. Prosper shouted out, “Medic, I need a medic!!”
“Grazie Dio!” Gianni called out weakly, then he slumped to the floor.
Riker left Prosper to see to Gianni and continued at a run towards the bell tower. He forced himself to step over the bodies that lie strewn on the marble floor and was careful not to slip in the blood that had splattered and pooled everywhere.
Riker felt the phone buzz in his pocket.
He pulled out his cell and saw the text:
Gia: We heard the sirens
and we can’t hear the shots anymore.
Is it over?
Riker felt relief flood him. They were safe.
Was it over? Riker looked again at the blood soaked scene all around him.
Sadly, for some, it was over in the purest sense of the word.
Gia felt the tears flow unchecked down her cheeks as she prepared herself to say goodbye to Father Michael. He had died as he had lived, helping others. Father Mike had been shot twice in the chest during the slaughter at the church.
When Gia had stood with the rest of her immediate family and greeted the throngs of people who came to pay their final respects, she had been truly touched. The line for the viewing had circled the church and extended a mile into the rectory grounds. However, no sight had been as moving as the contingency of homeless who had kept vigil outside the church gates. They had stood in line all night to be the first to pay tribute to their beloved benefactor.
While the family had invited the public viewing with open arms, they had decided to make Father Mike’s burial a private matter.
The graveside mass was beautifully delivered by Arch Bishop Dinapolo whose very presence was a testament to the high esteem in which Father Michael was held.
Gianni Abruzzi, who was still recovering from a flesh wound, was inconsolable by the loss of his beloved friend and confidante. Unwilling to say a final goodbye, he stood by the casket while all the others retreated quietly to their cars. When Gia looked back, she saw that Dolly had also stayed behind. Now Gianni and Dolly stood closely together as if drawing comfort from one another. Gianni’s arm was wrapped around Dolly’s waist and her head was on his shoulder.
Gia sighed and managed a small smile silver linings.
Riker juggled Rourke in one arm as he bent to open the door and place him in the car seat. He made sure his son was safely buckled in, then he took his seat behind the wheel.
He took one look at the thoughtful expression on his wife’s face and shook his head in disbelief.
“Really Gia?”
“What?”
Riker nodded towards Gianni and Dolly. “What you’re looking at is shared grief. That’s all that is.”
Gia chewed on her lip thoughtfully. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
“Damn woman! We’re not five minutes gone from a burial service and you’re already plotting ways to play cupid. That just ain’t right.”
“I was not thinking that! Not at all” Gia was horrified that she had been caught.
Riker just looked at her and shook his head.
Gia acquiesced. “Oh, alright So maybe I was. But is it so wrong to try and squeeze some good out of all the bad? Besides, Father Mike would approve.
He would want to see Uncle G happy.”
Riker squeezed her hand. “Not arguing that point. Just saying you could at least wait until we cleared the graveyard gates. All a matter of timing, babe.”
Good out of bad?
Was she kidding?
Like that was even possible after finding out what the feds knew about the connection between Fat Freddy Durants and Drummer. Seems like there was a reason for Drummer’s misogynistic behavior. A reason why he liked to mistreat and beat the snot out of women. And that reason was because he didn’t like women, not at all. But what he did like was men, and he liked them a whole lot. In particular and weirdly enough, he liked Fat Freddy Durants.
Far as the feds could tell their involvement went back about ten years when they both met at a series of court ordered AA meetings. Since then Drummer and Fat Freddy had managed to keep their private matters private. And those matters not only included a passionate and volatile relationship, but a number of criminal activities, as well. With Durants working the inside of the prison system and Drummer working on the outside they had a pretty good thing going namely contraband ,extortion, and murder for hire.
But, it seems their most lucrative business was the cell block, sex slave trade, where for a few bucks, they would arrange to have the newest and youngest inmates assigned to cells that contained the most deviant and sexually depraved. Eventually, the operation was uncovered by a few of the senior officers who all wanted in, and their profit margin turned to shit. Then of course when Durant got fired, that ended that. That’s when Durants and Drummer decide to use Drummer’s connection to the club to sell information to the feds.
And the rest played out like a bad country song and ended in the only way it could—
in death, destruction and tragedy.
Riker turned his attention back to Gia who had been babbling nervously.
“… and besides all of that, you’re right. I guess my timing could do use some work.”
“And what else?” Riker knew his wife better than that. She had given up that argument much too easily. It was a diversion tactic she used often and well. When she agreed with him too readily in the beginning, there was usually a shitstorm waiting for him at the other end.
“What do you mean what else?” Gia widened her eyes in a feigned attempt at innocence.
“Gia…” Riker arched an eyebrow.
“It’s nothing, I’m just late that’s all.” Gia blurted out.
Riker settled in behind the wheel, relaxed and focused on the road. “It’s all good, babe. We’ve still got about an hour before we have to meet back up with everyone at the restaurant. I thought we’d just take our time, drive by the shore.” He looked in the rearview at his son sleeping. “Rourke’s fast asleep. If we plan it right, he’ll be just about done with his nap by the time we get there.”
Gia bit her down on her lip. “I didn’t say we were late, Riker. I said I was late.”
“You? Me? It’s all the same. But maybe next time we have a thing to go to, you should decide what you’re going to wear a little sooner than five minutes before we’re supposed to be there.” He teased her. Then because she looked so serious, he added with reassurance “It’s really not a problem, babe.”
Not a problem? Gia sure as hell hoped not.
“This isn’t about dresses, Riker. And in this case, me being late is definitely not the same as you being late.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m pregnant.” Gia blurted out.
Riker almost drove off the road. The truck bumped and veered on the soft shoulder until it came to a hard stop. Both parents turned to look at Rourke in horror expecting him to scream bloody murder at having his sleep so abruptly disturbed.
“That kid could sleep through a volcano eruption.” Riker said with profound relief.
“Thank god!” Gia nodded.
Then they both turned to stare at each other.
“Wow. Pregnant, huh?” Riker just stared at her.
“Yup. Wow. Pregnant.” Gia stared back.
“So apparently breastfeeding is not a contraceptive.” Riker said ruefully.
“You didn’t really think that did you?” Gia looked at him in exasperation.
“No. Well, maybe. But I thought we were using that thing.”
“That thing?”
“Yeah, that thing. You know, it looks like a flying saucer? That thing.” Riker repeated in earnest.
“It’s called a diaphragm and evidently those things need to be refitted after you have a baby. But with everything that’s happened, I totally forgot.” Gia told him.
“Oh, man.” Riker mumbled.
Gia just sighed.
Silence reigned for a good three minutes. Riker was the first to break it.
“Babe, turn around and look at Rourke. He’s perfect. Those little hands and feet and that crazy chin. He’s fucking adorable. I wouldn’t mind having ten more just like him.” Then Riker gave her a wicked grin.
“Ten more?” She squeaked out. But really his words warmed her through and through.
Riker thought about the events of the past few days and found this new situation to be wildly ironic, and maybe even as it should be.
One life ends, and another begins.
“Gia, if it’s a boy? I think we should name him Michael.”
“I think so too.” Gia whispered happily back.
Eight months later a robust, healthy, nine pound baby boy came kicking and screaming into the world. His name was Michael James Devlin and he was everything his parents hoped he would be.
After a lifetime of uncertainty, Raine Winston shouldn’t be fazed by anything anymore. But she’s terrified. Terrified that her wayward sister, Claire, has gotten into debt dangerously over her head. Terrified that a muscle-clad biker named Diego doesn’t want payment with money—he wants much more. And terrified of the dizzying desire she feels whenever Diego touches her…
Diego Montesalto spends his days raising hell and his nights in the arms of fast, easy women. Tough, tattooed, and used to taking what he wants, he refuses to get emotionally invested in anyone. But he can’t stop thinking about Raine’s sweet smell, striking blue eyes, and quiet determination. She may have the spirit of a warrior, but she needs someone to guide and protect her.
When Raine has no choice but to go on the run, she falls straight into the Hells Saints’ mayhem-filled world…and into Diego’s strong arms. But in a life filled with hard choices, raw lust, and blood-soaked violence, is there room for loyalty…or love?
Revised edition: Previously published as Game Changer, this edition of Raine Falling includes editorial revisions.
Claire Winston knows she’s lucky to be alive—and even luckier to have the love and protection of a man like Prosper, her adoptive father and leader of the Hells Saints Motorcycle Club. Yet, try as she may, she can’t leave yesterday behind. She’s still haunted by Reno, the bad-boy biker her heart loves but her spirit fears. And she can’t seem to escape the terrifying memories of a night filled with blood, bullets, and brutality.
Hells Saints soldier Reno has tried everything with liquor and lace to get Claire off his mind. But he just can’t forget her freckles, her fierce fragility, and her tender heart. He knows he’s the only man who can give her the love she truly deserves.
As Claire and Reno spiral back into each other’s lives, they wonder if happiness is finally in their cards. But when violence once again explodes around them, Claire must decide if she really can trust Reno and commit to life with him—or if she’ll stay chained to her past forever.
The moment that Melissa Raymoor saw the small, rundown cottage sitting at the edge of the woods looking so neglected and forlorn, she was all in. Melissa knew that the little house needed a family as much as her little family needed it. The young widow longed for the tranquility that she was sure renting the home would provide for herself and her small son. What Melissa did not expect was to have their fragile peace interrupted by the fast living
, foul mouthed, larger- than- life landlord who moved in next door.
Crow Mathison knew that he frightened his tenant and not just a little. He had seen the look of terror written all over her face the moment she saw him. But he couldn’t deny it, thinking of Melissa gave him an adrenalin rush. Prissy, mousy, holier than thou, soccer mom Melissa. She was skinny, uptight and totally immune to the outlaw biker thing he had going on. She avoided him, ignored him and called him out on his bullshit every step of the way.
And he couldn’t get enough of her.
In the small town of Havengate, passions will ignite, secrets will be revealed, and the past will come back to threaten the fragile happiness and trust that Melissa and Crow begin to build with one another.
Old friends reunite while old enemies resurface in the fourth book of the Hells Saints Motorcycle Series.
Over three years ago, Glory Thomas saved Raine Winston’s life by rescuing her from the hands of Gino Abiatti— kidnapper, killer and all around bad guy. That fateful night set Glory on a path filled with violence, murder and redemption.
A path that led her straight through the Hells Saints doorway.
And straight into the arms of Jules Bonny.
As Sargent at Arms of the Hells Saints MC, Jules has seen a lot of bad things.
And done a lot worse.
But nothing plagued his conscience or gnawed at his soul until the day that Glory walked into his life.
Or, more exactly, until the day that Glory walked out of it.
And now she is coming back to where it all began.
Back to Crownsmount.
Back to the lake house.
But not back to him.
Not back to him.
And he has absolutely no idea what to do with that.
Raising Riker (Hells Saints MC) Page 20
