Glory

by Ana Jolene

  TWENTY-THREE

  Unforgiven

  Hastie

  Living for the chase and that adrenaline rush. There used to be a time when I used to bask in this. But since meeting Indy, I learned that there was more to life. I was no longer about simply living for Glory MC anymore. I was finally living for myself.

  Right now, I wanted nothing more than to end this as quickly as possible and return to Indy. But I had a job to do and until I could ensure the safety of the club, I knew I had to do this. Determination shone in my narrowed eyes as I kept a close distance between the motorcycles before me.

  I followed at a brisk pace, never once letting off the gas. A little flash of light caught my attention and as I glanced down, I cursed. Dammit. My tank was running low. I hadn’t had a chance to fill up at the gas station earlier and with the way I was eating up the asphalt at the moment, there’d be nothing left soon enough.

  The motorcycle before me made a sharp turn, forcing me to do the same to stay in pursuit. Who the hell was this motherfucker?

  When Brennan and his accomplice split up, Lucky had gone after the Ward leader while I went in pursuit of his mystery friend. Sharp focus was the only thing that kept him in my line of vision, but when the power suddenly flipped on in some of the buildings lining the road, my attention slipped momentarily.

  I lost him in that one beat of time as my eyes adjusted to the bright lights. Cursing, I scanned the area for any sign of him. It was hard to tell where he was around me while my own Harley was roaring like a beast.

  There! I could make out the echoes of gears shifting in the distance.

  Spinning my Harley around, I rushed back around the corner to find two other bikes in action. I recognized the one in front by its distinguishing color. The white Harley was being chased by Brennan. Ward Three’s leader was shooting at Lucky in rapid succession, the pistol in his hands jerking as he got each shot off. Fear draped over me like a blanket for a moment before I could shake it off, riding straight into the melee.

  I was backed up a good distance from where Lucky and Brennan were when I saw it happen. In a matter of seconds, several shots were fired, at least a couple hitting its mark as Lucky went down. “No!” I cried as his Harley tipped over and skidded on its side. The grating sound of metal hitting asphalt hard pierced through my ears, followed by the stench of burnt rubber in my nose. Fear choked me, making it difficult for me to breathe.

  Brennan flashed a glance over his shoulder at me before, he too, lost control of his own bike.

  I was off my Harley and running to Lucky in the next second. “No no no!” His body lay at an unnatural angle on the unforgiving road.

  He stirred when I dropped down beside him. “Fuck,” he breathed. Pain flashed over his features and relief flushed through me at realizing he was alive.

  “Stay down,” I instructed as he tried to free his right arm trapped beneath him. Though his helmet likely saved him from brain damage, Lucky was no doubt feeling confusion, some numbness, and a hell of a lot of pain right now. The dark blood running alongside his leg indicated where flesh collided with earth in a nasty abrasion. Cursing, I grabbed the knife Lucky kept in his boot and started slicing through the leather of his pants. He let off a scream as I peeled it off where the skin and leather had melted into one another.

  “Hang on,” I said to him as I examined the several sites of road rash. His whimpers grew louder as the gravel rubbed against his wounded skin. “Stay with me, Lucky. Don’t close your eyes.” I could smell his blood as it pooled beneath him on the sweltering hot road.

  Indy

  My skull hit the ground with a loud crack. I felt like Wile E. Coyote as little birdies danced around my head in delirium. Every part of my body felt like it was on fire; tingling, scorching, blazing.

  Knuckle sat up gingerly beside me, brushing off debris from his cut. What the hell had happened? I followed the direction of his eyes and felt my jaw drop. A raging fire had reached unbelievable height, towering over us like a godlike threat. Flames of orange, red, and yellow were concentrated at the source of the explosion below while black, billowing plumes of smoke rose from it, easily rising five stories high.

  Kitt appeared beside me. “Are you hurt?” I shook his concern off, more panicked about the fate of our lives if we stayed here any longer. “We need to get everyone out of here as quickly as possible.” He lifted up his motorcycle from where it lay on its side before helping me up next. “Get on,” he instructed. Then he was gone, moving towards the others who were having a difficult time recovering from the blast. Several had already left for safety by the roaring of engines in my ear, but even through the thick, blinding smoke, I could still see some struggling to get back on their feet. There was no chance in hell that I was going to leave Kitt to deal with it all.

  Instead of getting on the bike where Knuckle was waiting for me, I rushed towards one Glory member who was limping. I later remembered him being the other guy the night of the bonfire, the one who was getting handsy with the groupie chick and Kitt. Beck.

  The sergeant at arm’s eyes widened in surprise as he saw me running towards him. “What the fuck you are doing? You’re gonna get yourself killed!” Ignoring this, I tucked a shoulder beneath his weight and wrapped my arms around him, guiding him away from the fire. I could feel its intensity at my back, the unbearable heat scorching my skin where it was exposed.

  That was when Kitt spotted us, his panther eyes narrowing into small slits. “Didn’t I tell you to get on the fucking bike?” His face was covered in a sheen of sweat, soot adding a different dimension to his contoured face. He looked positively beastly.

  “He needs help!”

  “Jesus fucking Christ, Indy! You could have been killed. What the hell would I have told Hastie then, huh?”

  Fire flashed in my eyes. “Kitt, shut the hell up and help your brother. I’m not leaving ’til everyone is safe.”

  “You need to get on that damn bike and get to safety,” he said as he took Beck’s weight off me. Together, we guided him to his Harley.

  “You biker bastards,” I snarled. “Always trying to boss me around.” Kitt’s brows knit together, but he kept his lips shut. Behind us, the fire multiplied as smoke enveloped us in its deathly embrace. “Bitch at me all you want later. But right now, I’m getting Glory MC out alive.”

  Hastie

  I tried to keep my fear from showing in my expression but the grim set of Lucky’s lips told me that he knew just how bad the injury was. If I didn’t get him out of here, I’d lose another brother tonight.

  Lucky’s grunts of pain sounded in my ear as I made quick work of moving him off the road. “Knuckle,” I barked when the prez picked up his phone. “Lucky’s down. He needs help. Stat.” I rattled off our location.

  Knuckle sounded panicked. “What the hell happened out there?”

  “Look, it’s bad. When can you get here?”

  “Fuck, okay. As soon as we get out of the shit we’re in.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” What had happened with them?

  As Knuckle relayed the explosion, terror swept me up in a current. “Where’s Indy?”

  “She’s with me now. She’s perfectly safe.” His voice lowered. “But we’ve had some losses.”

  Aw shit. I was almost afraid to ask. “How many?”

  “I don’t know for sure yet, but at least a couple.” My father’s voice thundered with the same emotion I was feeling. There were too many people dying. “Jesus Christ, Hastie. Find this motherfucker.” I slid a glance at the fallen figure just a few feet away from me. Already have him, Pops. “Help is on its way,” Knuckle reassured. “Keep Lucky safe until we get there.”

  “Hurry,” was all I said before I disconnected.

  I was a ticking time bomb as I approached Brennan’s figure. He was sprawled across the asphalt, bleeding from various areas I didn’t care to examine. The explosion back at the gas station was all his doing; it had to be. Brennan sneered as
I stood over him. I gave him no opportunity to speak before I kicked him. He howled as bone shattered. Bending low, I grabbed a fistful of his hair and hauled him up, noticing how his left arm dangled at an unnatural position. “If you ever come to Ward Four again, I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

  In response, Brennan spat in my face. On a growl, I dropped a hand to his injured arm, adding pressure. Witnessing his agony was sweeter than candy. His eyes flashed with suffering, teeth gritted so hard I sensed that they could shatter from the pressure. The son of a bitch was going to pay for what he’d done today.

  Behind me, the sound of tires indicated that backup had arrived. Knowing Lucky was being taken care of, I could focus on Brennan.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Knuckle asked as I shoved Brennan into the trunk of one of the SUVs. Without responding, I shut him inside before getting into the driver’s seat.

  It took about an hour or so to reach the destination I had in mind, but one glance at the rising sun on the horizon told me that right here would be enough.

  Stopping the vehicle, I got out, swung the back door open, and yanked Brennan out. The motherfucker had bled on the carpet, leaving a body-sized stain on the runner of the car.

  As he stood there, Brennan favored one leg while his good arm clutched the broken one. He flashed me a look of confusion as he took in our surroundings. There wasn’t much to see. It was a wasteland, all dried sand and no shelter but the rocks.

  Without a word, I shut the trunk and moved to the front of the car again. Brennan’s eyes widened as he realized what I was doing. “You can’t leave me here!” He moved to stand in front of the car, palms resting on the hood. He was stupid if he thought that would stop me from driving over him like roadkill. Realizing that, Brennan dove to the side as I floored it, kicking up sand as the tires dug in for traction.

  In my rearview mirror, I could see Brennan fighting despite the uselessness of it all. In this kind of heat, it was only a matter of time before he became thirsty. There was nothing to drink for miles. I heard dehydration was a shitty way to die. Provided that he managed to survive heat stroke.

  It was the first time since leaving Indy’s side that I smiled.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  The Phantoms

  Indy

  The aftermath was no less bloody than the explosion. After a week in recovery, the activity in Neptune’s was finally slowing down. In the period right after the blast, the dive bar had become a makeshift hospital of sort as the injured got patched up. The explosion had resulted in a total of three deaths, two of them being prospects with many more injured. Those three deaths were substantial hits for Glory MC, especially so soon after losing Newt. If bodies continued to drop, there was no telling what the state of the club would be in.

  It helped that Glory MC knew how to handle themselves in times of distress. With the way they moved with great efficiency, I felt like I was in the midst of a battlefield, surrounded by trained soldiers who were accustomed to the workings of the war.

  “Hold still,” I instructed as I changed Beck’s dressing on his wounded arm. He shot me a dirty look as I fussed over him, but the constant groans of pain and the hectic shuffling of people in and out of Neptune’s made me nervous. Somehow, Beck’s presence became a source of peace that relieved the tension in the bar. Beck allowed me to help him the first time. Now I was simply forcing it on him, for my own sanity.

  I turned towards the sound of my name. Knuckle loomed in the doorway of the meeting room, giving me a curious look. I smiled thinly at him, wishing Hastie were with me right this minute. Glory’s prez always made me feel a little nervous.

  He jerked his head towards the room, signaling that he wanted to speak to me. “Just a second,” I said as I finished with Beck’s dressing. Beck shot me a surprised look. “What?”

  “Not many people tell Knuckle to wait.”

  I bristled. “He’s not a god.”

  “In here, he is. Best to remember that.” Since I knew Beck wasn’t a man to be easily pushed around, the way he followed Knuckle around willing showed his devotion to the prez.

  “I only worship one person,” I told him.

  “And who is that? Hastie? He got some particular kink I should know about?” I rolled my eyes. Oh yeah right. This coming from the guy who loved sex in threes.

  “Hastie doesn’t have a kinky side.”

  Beck snorted, shaking his head as a voice sounded behind me. “You talking about me behind my back?”

  A smile broke out on my face before I could help it. Turning, I found Hastie standing in the hallway. “Where have you been?” I wrapped my arms around him. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” With a nod over his shoulder to Beck, Hastie took my hand and led me towards the meeting room where Knuckle was waiting for us. His expression left no question to his mood. The prez was not happy. “You wanted to see me?”

  “Sit.” I slid into a chair while Hastie shut the door behind him. Knuckle’s gaze roamed over me and I felt my pulse quicken. What I did the night of the explosion was reckless and irrational, and could have possibly put others at risk as well. I felt the need to apologize for my insubordination but as I opened my mouth to do just that, he spoke over me. “I have to thank you.”

  “What?”

  “We could have lost Beck back there if it weren’t for you. I want to thank you for doing what you did.”

  I sat there momentarily dumbfounded by his words. Knuckle dished out pain, rarely praise. Gratitude was not something I was expecting from the prez of Glory MC. “I was just trying to help.”

  Knuckle snorted. “Modest words coming from a girl who ran into a blazing fire shortly after an explosion. You’re brave.”

  Hastie stiffened beside me before leaning over the table. “You told me she helped, not that she ran into the fire!” He flipped his anger on me. “What the hell were you thinking?”

  “Settle down, Hastie. She isn’t as fragile as you think she is. I’ve seen that for myself.”

  Hastie shook his dark head, reining in his temper as he took a deep, calming breath. He was only doing that because he cared about me. “It’s okay,” I assured him. “I wasn’t hurt.”

  “You could’ve been.”

  “But I wasn’t.”

  “She wasn’t,” Knuckle repeated in a tone that said drop it.

  “You should have seen me though. I was pretty badass.”

  His lips curled, revealing a sexy smile. “Is that so?”

  “Oh yes.”

  “Next time you try out your superwoman talents, you just let me know.”

  “Cut the crap,” Knuckle barked. “I need to be briefed on the past week’s events. Then we have to make some arrangements for our fallen brethren.” Just like that, the pleasant feelings of being reunited with Hastie dissipated and I was once again reminded of our losses.

  Glory’s losses, I corrected myself with a second thought. I had somehow integrated myself into the club without formal invitation. Even now I didn’t know why I was here. After the explosion, members were taken to Neptune’s to receive care. No one had told me to leave. Kitt and Knuckle were actually very accommodating.

  Despite the deaths of members looming over us, or perhaps because of it, Glory MC felt more like a family than my own blood did to me. Knuckle turned to Hastie, eyes going dark. “How about you tell me what you ended up doing with Brennan?” There was a knock on the door, causing Knuckle to growl at the interruption. “What?” he barked.

  Kitt poked his head through. He was sporting a blank bandana over his hair today. It made him look dangerous and intimidating paired with all his tattoos. “Look who wanted to visit,” he drawled as he pushed the door wide open, revealing a brightly smiling blond in a wheelchair.

  “Thought you were done with me?” Lucky said jovially as Kitt wheeled him in. He looked better than when he was first brought in. For one, all the blood and grime was gone. His leg was propped up, bandaged at the moment as it still wept when
he moved. His color wasn’t exactly there yet, but his joking around meant that at least he was feeling better. Lucky often used humor as a way to diffuse tension or handle stress. That he was out of bed with a smile on his face told me that he was once again braving the hellish world, but I caught a wince that crossed over his expression right before he turned his amused gaze on me. “Aw, Lady of the Year is here,” he said smartly. “Look at you, getting all kinds of praise. Are your lips tired from all that ass kissing?”

  Oh, he was definitely back. Rolling my eyes, I shot Lucky the bird. “Don’t be jealous, honey. You’ll have your job back in no time.”

  Lucky laughed. “Damn right I am. Someone here needs to be the golden boy.”

  When Hastie’s voice cut in, it was hard and unrelenting. “What the hell are you doing out of bed? You were just in an accident!”

  “Come on. It’s been a week and I’m going fucking insane lying there with nothing to do.”

  “He is,” Kitt agreed. “He won’t stop begging me to bring him here. I just did it to shut him up.” And then he was gone, shutting the door behind him.

  Hastie gave one shake of his head and got up. “I’m taking you back to rest.”

  Lucky kissed his teeth. “I’ll rest when I’m dead.” I winced. His words were cutting a little too close to reality.

  “I’m just looking out for you, bro.”

  “And I appreciate it too, but I’m alive. That’s more than I can say for some of my brothers. So,” he said, giving Hastie a meaningful look that told him to drop it. “What are we talking about?”

  Knuckle cleared his throat. “We were just about to discuss the past week’s events. I want to know what you saw,” he said to Lucky. “And whatever sick and twisted thing you did to Brennan,” he directed at Hastie.

  “Did you kill him?” I asked.