Point of Redemption

by Stacey Lynn

  “Watch your mouth, Nordic cock sucker,” Mills sneered at Olivia.

  My stomach churned. I had to get her away from him before Mills really did hurt her. It would cause a war between two clubs that already hated one another. Daemon would see to it for certain.

  Another man approached, one I didn’t know, but based on his accent, he was Finn, the Australian, Olivia had told me about.

  I looked up briefly to see she hadn’t been wrong in her description of him. Sexy and accented. He was incredible.

  I just wanted to get out of there. Quickly. Which was why when Olivia crouched down and asked me if I was okay, I ignored her. Cain would be pissed and I would be punished once he found out I was having anything to do with Nordic Lords.

  He’d lose his shit once he found out they tried to protect me on his street.

  I closed my eyes, my vision still blurred, as Olivia pulled me to my feet.

  She wiped my cheek, and I finally found my voice. “You need to leave.”

  “Listen to the whore, little girl. Nordic Lords don’t own her. We do.”

  Olivia wasn’t to be stopped as she slowly wiped my cheek and said, “Let me clean you up.”

  I raised my eyes to hers and saw hers only filled with pity. No one wanted to be pitied. “Go home, Liv. There’s nothing you can do for me.”

  I took a step away from her and barely recognized Mills and Finn begin to raise their voices as Liv stumbled on her feet. When I blinked again, Daemon was there and slowly the rest of the streets were filled with Black Death and Nordic Lords members standing off on the street corner.

  I couldn’t pull my eyes back to Olivia as the men argued about who owned me and who would be getting me soon. It sounded so familiar to what Ryker had told me in the hotel room, but the shame that always encompassed my life filled with me such torment that there was no way I wanted to see what sort of disgust laid in Olivia’s eyes.

  Instead, I looked away and wobbled on my heels, trying to get away from the men who were joining the crowd on the street.

  Words were shouted right before the first punches were thrown. Someone shoved my shoulder. My feet slipped on the pavement, and I fell backward. My hands flew out to steady myself, but it didn’t help. My head slammed into a glass window behind me, and I crumpled to my feet. The black dots reappeared in my vision along with the sticky feel of more blood becoming tangled in my hair.

  I heard Olivia shout my name right before a large, firm hand grabbed my bicep and pulled me to my feet.

  Punches flew. Knives were pulled. Sirens rang in the distance.

  “Let’s go,” he ordered, his voice deep and authoritative. Seeing as how I wasn’t in a position to argue, I didn’t. He pulled me roughly to my feet and kept a hand on me until we were around the corner. The entire time, I hoped that Nordic Lords killed every single Black Death member.

  “I’ll be back to see you as soon as I can, okay?”

  My heart pounded in my chest as I watched Brayden’s chin shake and quiver. Tears pooled in the little boys eyes and my own breathing restricted.

  “You’re going away,” Brayden said as he lost the fight on his tears.

  I pulled him into a hug, my arms encapsulating him into a warm and tight embrace. I looked up and watched Meg wipe away her own silent tears. I’m sorry, I mouthed to her. She shook her head and smiled. I held onto Brayden until his sniffles disappeared before I pushed him away. My hands curled over his shoulders, and I ducked so he could look directly into my eyes.

  “I have to go home to my family for a while, but I will stay in touch. We’ll talk and can FaceTime each other, okay?” Brayden sniffed and nodded. For a millisecond, I debated whether leaving was the right choice. Then I remembered the phone call from Daemon and knew I couldn’t stay. “You be good for your mom, okay, kiddo?” I asked and stood up at the same time, my hand leaving his shoulder to ruffle the hair on his head.

  He nodded once. “I be good.”

  I wrapped my arm around his shoulder again and pulled him with me when I walked to Meg. We were standing on the front porch of her house in New Orleans. In an hour, I was headed back to Jasper Bay.

  Nothing except the idea of Bull getting what was coming to him made me happy about leaving Meg and Brayden again. I definitely didn’t want to see tears in their eyes and know that I was the cause of them. Already I felt like I’d backed out on Byron, the first person to give me a chance when I showed up in New Orleans five years ago. He had become a friend, almost a brother. My chest felt tight, knowing that I was leaving the woman he’d made me promise to look after.

  Meg’s small hand came up and rested on my cheek. Her thumb brushed against my skin, and her smile was smoothing, even if I knew she was faking it. Her glistening wet eyes were a dead giveaway.

  “Go do what you need to do,” she said, her voice cracking. My hand curled into a fist at my side and my shoulders grew tight with tension. “We’ll be fine here. It’s time anyway.”

  I shook my head. “I’ll be back.”

  Her smile fell and her hand fell down to cover mine that was still resting on Brayden’s shoulder. She squeezed it tightly as tears ran down her cheeks. “No, you won’t. And it’s okay. We need to figure this out, anyway.”

  I let go of Brayden only long enough to pull both of them into a hug. Meg was kind and sweet and she didn’t deserve to have her husband die on her. She also didn’t deserve for me to turn my back on her. I hugged her hard and long, feeling both of our chests shaking with unspoken emotions.

  When I pulled her away, I stared directly at her. “You’ll call me if you need anything.”

  She nodded. I didn’t believe her. My hands squeezed her tighter. My glare grew harsher. “I’m not fuckin’ around, Meg. I don’t give a shit what it is, but if you need anything, call me.”

  She wiped a tear and bit her bottom lip. “Go.” She waved toward my truck on the street. “Go save your woman and don’t worry about us.”

  “Meg—”

  “I’ll call, okay. We’ll be just fine, but I promise that if something happens we can’t handle, I’ll call you.”

  I narrowed my eyes and looked for deception, but all I came away with was sadness and strength in her eyes.

  I nodded. With one last hug to both of the people who had been such good friends to me, I turned my back on them and headed home.

  I could hear everything and nothing at the same time. My sight trained on the gathering fifty yards away below me, and yet I couldn’t hear the voices or the slight kick of gravel. I couldn’t hear the dust blowing the dirt and I was blocking out the animals in the woods that scampered around late at night, scavenging for food and breaking down branches.

  But my senses were trained on the whistling of the wind. The way it flicked through the pine branches, disrupting the trajectory I would need to hold if I wanted a clean shot.

  Lying stomach down on a shipping warehouse rooftop, the metal that had burned earlier in the hot sun only felt slightly warm against my abdomen. My arms felt relaxed while tension coiled from my shoulders down to my spine.

  I knew when the moment would come for me to take my shot. Daemon and the club brothers had filled me in when I arrived back in town. It didn’t lessen the stress as I kept my eye trained on the group of men through my scope. Scanning the crowd, I searched for Cain, the Vice President of Black Death. A muscle in my cheek jumped, knowing he wasn’t here. He had been shot last week at the fight that broke out during the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally. It had resulted in Daemon and a handful of men from the Nordic Lords spending a night in the local jail. Cain hadn’t been heard from since. Neither had Faith or her mom.

  After I handled the shit with Bull, Cain was my next target.

  I would take Faith back by force, if necessary, if it meant getting her out from under Cain’s wicked control.

  With the resolve of my plan certain, I pushed everything outside my mind and focused on the trigger on my Remington 700. It sat on its stand while I peered th
rough the night vision scope. The men below rarely moved.

  I had shown up an hour early to get in place before anyone else did.

  The roar of the Sporelli family and his crew crested in my ears as their Ducati motorbikes made their way along the last curve before they began their descent down the narrow drive to where Daemon and his men waited for him.

  Daemon had originally thought of partnering with Black Death to get the Sporelli’s out of our ports and his interest out of our town. The Sporelli’s were a mob family in Chicago. They ran drugs and money and wanted water access. In return, Black Death would release Faith.

  But when Angelo Sporelli, head family man, contacted Daemon and told him the truth about Bull’s plan, all of Black Death’s plans went to shit.

  Only they didn’t know that. Yet.

  Soon, they’d realize that Daemon had greater plans in mind. Plans to eradicate the Black Death presence from Jasper Bay like it should have been done years ago.

  Unfortunately, it would put Daemon under control of Sporelli, although he also assured me he had a plan to fix that, too.

  I had rolled my eyes. My little brother, ever the problem solver.

  After tonight, if I did my job correctly, he’d be President of his own MC Charter. Nordic Lords weren’t the largest MC in the country—they sat in the middle—but they were big enough that most others didn’t fuck with them.

  Sporelli had chosen to do that by making them a deal to agree to run drugs for them down to the Twin Cities. Eventually, they’d see their error.

  Upon hearing the bikes engines turned off, I focused my eyes on Daemon. I watched him and Bull speak with Sporelli and then Hammer, the president of Black Death. The men moved to the large truck that had driven in, surrounded by the Italian motorbikes.

  I swallowed a deep breath to maintain my focus on Bull while the men emptied the crates.

  I knew what was coming, but the blast from the last crate still surprised me.

  The building I was on shook beneath my abdomen. My boots rattled and my elbows shifted on the roof. I had my doubts Daemon could pull this off. He had jumped into an ocean of trouble by aligning with Sporelli, and he wouldn’t know the full depth of it until Sporelli came to collect the favor he’d just done for them.

  Unwilling to admit it out loud, I knew there was no way I’d leave my brother behind again to deal with the fallout of this.

  Guns blasted from below as smoke filled the air.

  My gut churned. Every instinct in me wanted to be in the brawl—fighting with my fists and the rage that simmered inside me.

  But still—I held position and watched Black Death be decimated by both The Nordic Lords and Sporelli.

  My lips twisted into a small grin once the smoke cleared. From a hundred yards out, I listened to Sporelli’s crew pull out on their bikes. Their engines and the diesel motor of the van that had brought the crates blared passed my position on the roof.

  And all the Nordic Lords turned on Bull.

  Their President—their betrayer.

  I sucked in a deep breath and watched Bull lower his gun. He spoke to Daemon. Bull opened his mouth to respond.

  A light breeze ghosted past me. My short hair ruffled and the wind gave off a slight whistle as it went through the trees. I waited for it to settle.

  Then… my wait was over.

  My finger pulled the trigger.

  Kickback from the rifle slammed it against my shoulder.

  When I looked through the scope again, Bull was lying on the ground. A quick sweep showed me everyone else had put their guns away.

  Daemon had done it.

  I had done it.

  Vengeance fulfilled swirled deep inside of me, settling into my stomach with a heavy weight.

  It wasn’t nearly as freeing as I expected it to be.

  “Hey, baby girl.” I pulled Liv into a hug as soon as I climbed out of Daemon’s beat up Ford pickup at the Nordic Lords clubhouse. She had rushed outside and ran straight to my door, jumping back and forth on her feet before I turned the engine off.

  Based on her bleeding fingertips, she’d been chewing her nails for the last several hours.

  “I’m not a baby,” she said as she wrapped her arms around me.

  Guilt swam inside me, knowing what I had done and what I had to tell her. Daemon worried about this screwing up their relationship. She’d been through enough over the last few weeks with losing her baby and being shot. If she was going to blame anyone—I’d shoulder it.

  “Okay, then.” I grinned and pushed her back, squeezing her shoulders. “Little sister.”

  She smiled. I winked. Worry still lined her eyes, but I knew she liked the idea of her and Daemon. Her brief smile proved it.

  “What happened?”

  I exhaled a long, slow breath. Liv instantly recognized the shift in my playful mood. “We gotta talk.”

  Instantly, her shoulders trembled and her chin shook. “Oh God… Daemon—”

  “No,” I snapped. She blinked and her eyes focused on mine. “He’s fine.”

  She blinked slowly, collecting herself, and I gave her the time before I brought her world to her knees.

  “We should go inside—have a drink and sit down. There’s a lot to explain.”

  Her hands tightened on my forearms, squeezing them, but I didn’t pry her off. “Tell me.”

  “I will,” I said, turning her and pulling her to my side. With one arm wrapped around her, I walked her into the clubhouse, and once she was settled at the bar with a beer in her hands, I explained everything.

  I relayed the phone call Daemon had received from Sporelli at the Sturgis Rally. I told her all about the night I’d walked in on her five years ago when she was unconscious. I explained the shooter had been a hired hit man. She watched and listened—maybe not hearing all of it through her shock—without interrupting until I mentioned Bull’s name.

  Her father.

  Her hands flew to her mouth. “No,” she gasped.

  “Liv,” I began and swallowed my words. I took a pull from my beer while I watched tears rim her bottom lids. Then I lowered my chin. “He hired a hit on the club’s Vice President and his own wife. You know what happens to men like that.”

  She shook her head. Her hands trembled on her beer bottle. Tears escaped her eyes.

  I couldn’t do a damn thing for her.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Her head snapped to mine. “Ryker.”

  “I did it. I’m so sorry.”

  In a flash, she pushed off her bar stool, knocking it over and almost tripping over the metal legs to get away. I reached out and grabbed her arm, preventing her from running. “You killed him!”

  She shouted it right before I pulled her to my chest. She heaved and sobbed against my shirt and I wrapped a hand around the back of her head. I had no excuses. I had no words that could make her feel better.

  There was nothing else to say. So I held her, swaying slightly back and forth, while she punched my chest with her shaking hands and her shoulders shook under the weight of my arms.

  She pulled back as soon as the thunderous roll of motorcycles vibrated against the clubhouse doors. “Daemon,” she gasped. And then she ran. I was right behind her.

  By the time I caught up to her, Daemon was holding her in the same way I had just been doing.

  “I told her,” I said.

  Daemon flashed me a no shit? look from over his shoulder. Pain laced his expression while he held Liv and explained everything to her. I stood back, helpless with the other men, while she ranted and screamed at all of them.

  And then I watched her shift. All of us—Daemon, Switch, Jaden, and I watched her transform. “Okay then. I need a drink.”

  She was calm. It was unnatural. But when she turned on her heels and walked past me into the club, she also looked confident. Sad but resigned because she had been raised in this life and she knew how it worked.

  She was fucking brave—braver than I had ever been. In that one
second, it was the first time in my life that I had been fucking jealous of Daemon. Jealous that he had been strong enough to go after what he wanted in the first place. To fight for it.

  I had never done that. I had always run.

  But in that moment, I knew I would run no longer.

  “She’s…” Daemon stared after Liv, dumbfounded.

  “She’ll be all right,” I assured him, clamping a hand around his shoulder. I wanted to haul ass out of the club and go fight for Faith, to go find her and finish the shit with Cain.

  But I knew Daemon needed me. And for some reason, I wanted to curl up on a barstool next to him and Liv and hope like hell that some of their strength and bravery would rub off on me.

  “Let’s get wasted, Prez.”

  Daemon laughed once, his eyes flashing to mine before he followed me inside the clubhouse doors. “Fuck yeah, brother.”

  My brother owned the gavel like it had been his God-given right to be the President of a Motorcycle Club. Sheer power seeped from him the first time I was allowed into the room where the club men held their chapel.

  It wasn’t an easy day. It had been almost two weeks since Faith disappeared. Almost two weeks since anyone had seen Cain or Faith. We couldn’t find a single lead to save our life. I was ready to blow up at the smallest provocation.

  Without Brayden and Meg to calm the beast that prowled inside me with their kindness and gentle words and touches, I was beginning to doubt I’d ever feel sane again.

  But she had understood. I couldn’t leave. I couldn’t go back to New Orleans with everything so uncertain with Faith. And when Meg and I had talked earlier in the week, she had almost sounded smug. I had smiled, hearing her unspoken I told you so come through the phone line. Pete had been equally understanding. The conversation I had with him, letting him know what was going on, had been almost as difficult as the one I’d had with Meg. They had become my family.

  I would see them again, but it would never be the same.