Stormy's Thunder: Satan's Devils MC Utah

by Manda Mellett

  She throws herself at me. “I can’t lose you, Finn. What I said before was wrong.”

  There’s no time for discussion. “Be the strong woman you are,” I say against her ear. “You don’t get rid of me that easily. I told you, you’re mine and you’re not getting out of that. Be strong for me, Cat. All you’ve got to do is wait for me.”

  “Why don’t you just kill Gun? Won’t that mean it will be over?” She bites her lip, asking for assurances I can’t give.

  Pip comes nearer, his face full of sympathy. “I’m convinced Gun’s another foot soldier. He’s got no personal beef with me. I don’t know who’s pulling his strings, but I’m sure someone is. If so, those men out there will continue to fight for their paymaster.”

  I agree with him. Gun’s the immediate superior, but taking him out will give them pause, but not move them from the objective.

  Making myself pull away, I move Cat toward the safe room. “It’s time, Cat. Promise me you’ll do what we’ve agreed. This won’t work unless I know you’re doing exactly what I told you.”

  Pip looks at her. “Every soldier must play his part,” he says, gently, giving a soft push to encourage her to move.”

  “Finn…” I hate to, but I have to ignore her pleas. No words will change this. We’re outnumbered. It’s the only way.

  I should give her more time to get over her ordeal, but if I’m going to die, I want to go with her taste on my mouth. She’s halfway into the safe room but I pull her back. When I lower my lips, hers come up to greet mine. Tangling my hands in her hair, I pull her to me, thrusting my tongue into her mouth. Then, before I’m ready, I pull back.

  “Go, Cat. Be safe. I love you.”

  I don’t watch her all the way into the safe room. Instead, I exit as fast as I can, making my way clumsily to the elevator, not thinking how I’ll be getting down later. With a final word to Pip, nods directed at Goofy, Igor and Brute, I take my lonely journey up to my perch, wedging myself between the parapet and an air-conditioning unit.

  Wasting no time, I pull down my night goggles allowing me to find Gun. Grinch is being held by another man and has a gun trained on his head. The man holding him looks military from the way he’s standing. Whether Grinch knows what to do or not, his body isn’t directly aligned with the man holding the weapon. I’ve got a clear headshot. Gears is further back, he’s short and stocky, and luckily being held by someone taller.

  We’re avoiding communication devices, knowing Gun might have hacked in and be listening, I wouldn’t put anything past him. So I use the old-fashioned method, watching the second hand of my watch tick round to the minute.

  I steady myself, at five seconds I inhale and hold it, the lights go out and simultaneously my finger tightens…

  At the same time as the second bullet leaves the barrel my world explodes.

  My optimism was misplaced, this building wasn’t built to a high spec code, or the explosion of the bomb in the foyer was badly placed, or was far more powerful than I had anticipated. As the roof starts shifting beneath my feet, I throw myself clear of the air-conditioning unit, knowing its weight will drag me down.

  I lose my weapon as I try to hold on to anything that appears relatively stable around me as blocks of the three-storey building start falling.

  The creaks, groans, crashes which signal the death throes of the clubhouse are punctuated with the sharp sounds of gunfire. All I can do is hope that we’re on the winning side. At least Cat will be safe, the reinforced steel room she’s in was at least built to survive a full force explosion.

  I start to slide. My right hand tries to work, scrambling for purchase, but the cast around my fingers is too tight for them to be much help. My left shoulder screams in agony as I grab strands of wire and hold tight to them.

  Christ! Something hit my head. Hard. I shake it to clear the moment of fogginess. All I’ve got to do is hold on…

  I’m at the front, right over reception, right where the building is slowly collapsing. I try to move back toward the rear of the building, but gravity is now against me.

  I’m hanging over a precipice, a yawning three-storey gap beneath me. I’m losing my grip…

  I grab at something, it’s an air-conditioning duct, swinging in the breeze, but at an angle. My cast covered leg almost gets stuck as I slide myself onto it, using it as a slide to get lower.

  One floor down.

  The duct twists, throwing me out, tossing me against the falling building. So close yet too far. A blown out window, I hold the frame, feeling the bricks crumble beneath. My hand’s sliced by glass, but I’ve more than that to worry about as the whole frame tilts and I’m falling again.

  Another floor down far too fast.

  Knowing this is going to hurt like hell if not kill me, I let go, tucking my body as though I was landing from a parachute. I hit the ground, jarring my legs, but automatically roll until I come to a stop on hands and knees.

  I’m fucking alive.

  For a moment I don’t believe it.

  A man runs up to me. Shaking my head and blinking my eyes to clear the dust from my sight, I tense, knowing I’m unarmed, enemy or foe?

  Igor stops in front of me. “You okay?”

  Though I haven’t tested it out, I think I am, or at least, not in danger of dying. While I’m not sure I can move, I can snap orders. “Status report.”

  “Nine dead, all theirs. Gun is injured but still alive. Gears took a bullet, but he’s breathing.”

  “Cat?”

  “Cat and Pip are fine. The safe room was intact, just difficult to open.”

  We did it. But it’s too soon for elation. And that fucking explosion will have garnered attention. “Prospects on clean up. We’ve got to get the bodies out of here fast.”

  “Already on it.” Igor half turns. “You need help?”

  “Yeah.” I admit, allowing him to pull me to my feet.

  I forget my non-weight-bearing leg and stagger which isn’t surprising, my good one’s hurting just as much. He offers me his shoulder to lean on and leads me to the truck which is already laden with bodies and bits I barely recognise as human.

  “Finn!”

  “Whoa!” I try to catch a sobbing and crying Cat before she knocks me over, and App, the brat that he is, nearly finishes the job wrapping his lead around me. I wait while she untangles him.

  “I’m okay,” I try to impress on her, once she’s got me free. “I’m okay.”

  “I was so worried. I saw…” She saw me fall. “I thought Igor would come back and tell me you were dead. How the hell did you survive?”

  Having no idea myself, so I can’t tell her. I try to minimise the risk I was in. “I was a SEAL, Cat. We’re survivors.”

  Whatever she’s going to say next, she’s interrupted.

  “All loaded!” shouts Brute. “I’m out of here!”

  “Can’t pick up all the bullet casings,” Grinch moans.

  “Leave it to me.” Pip gives me a nod, and from somewhere summons up a grin. “I’ll deal with the cops. Fuck knows they won’t be too concerned about someone blowing up an MC, or evidence from our target practice.”

  It’s then I realise someone’s missing. “Gears?” I snap. Igor had told me he was shot.

  “Gears took a bullet to his leg. He’ll live, but he’s gone with Brute.” Pip shakes his head and pulls out his phone. “I better get in touch with Snatcher now comms are safe to use. Oh, and Stormy? Gun’s shot but cursing up a storm. Thought you’d like to know.”

  That cheers me up.

  “Grinch okay?

  “Singing your fuckin’ praises. Do you even have to ask?”

  Nah. I don’t. Even one-handed, I’m a fucking good sniper. But I’d had to make sure, the building exploded before I saw that the bullets had hit their intended targets, the men holding Grinch and Gears.

  As Pip walks away to deal with Snatcher, I can hear sirens in the distance. With an expert eye I look around. Sure, behind us what remains of the b
uilding is burning, destroying everything we own. But we’re alive, and anything can be replaced. Our equipment might be gone, but our intelligence isn’t bound by servers and computers, it’s all stored in the cloud. We can rebuild.

  “I found this in the safe room. I hung onto it.” Cat’s holding something to her. I bark a laugh when I see what it is. It’s my fucking cut. Pip must have stored it there. “Do you want to put it on?”

  “Nah, not until I’ve changed the rocker. Hold onto it for me, will you?” I’m pleased to see it, having expected it to have been destroyed, if not by the Devils then by the explosion.

  “What do we do now?”

  “Wait for the cops.” I tell her.

  “In the state you’re in?” Pip’s eyes widen. “Fuck that. Nah, you get out of here, Storm. Take your woman and the dog and get back to the old clubhouse. I’ll be there as soon as we can. You’ve done enough for tonight.” He throws me the keys to one of the club’s SUVs.

  Giving him my thanks with just a raise of my chin, I hop with one hand on her shoulder around to the rear of the clubhouse, and slide into the passenger seat, taking App’s leading and giving it a small tug so he jumps in with me. “You drive,” I tell her, pointing to the rear exit to the compound. Going that way we should avoid the cops speeding our way. Thank goodness we’re right on the outskirts of the city, and none of the other units are occupied this time of night.

  “Where do I go?”

  I give her directions, and soon we’re drawing up behind the old Utah chapter clubhouse. Surprisingly, it’s like coming home, though I’ve never been based here, and only before have visited when attending club parties.

  I assess it fast. There are bedrooms enough for most of the club, though as they’ve only been used as crash or fuck rooms after a party for years and probably won’t be up to much. But better than turning up bloodied and bruised at a hotel. Though Cat deserves more, we’ll make the best of it.

  When we go inside, again, with me having to lean on her, her holding App’s lead and the spaniel traipsing along behind, we’re not the only ones here. Doc is already sewing up Gears’ leg. Gears, is swigging from a bottle while he does.

  Doc turns when I enter, his eyebrows rise making his eyes widen. “I presume you’re next.”

  “Nah, I got off lightly.” I catch sight of myself in the mirror above the bar and snort. I can see why he was worried. My features are barely visible through the amount of dust on my face, and my forehead and cheeks are bloodied.”

  “Finn!” Cat exclaims, getting her first proper look at me in good light.

  “All superficial, babe.” Though fuck knows how. Someone was on my side tonight. The second time I’ve escaped death in an explosion. I vow not to try my luck and hope to avoid a third time. “I just need a shower. You okay Gears?”

  “Through and through.” Moving closer I bump my left fist against his. We’re both survivors.

  I turn as Cat exclaims. “I don’t get you men. Gears was shot, you’ve been blown up and fell from the roof, the club’s lost everything, your home, your work. Yet you’re both fine.” She huffs, and places her hands on her hips. “What does it take to faze you?”

  “Nothing if I’ve got you,” I tell her truthfully, lowering my voice so Doc remains oblivious of our conversation. “Nothing’s lost which can’t be replaced. Gun’s alive and Swift will be in her element getting answers. At last we’ll find who’s been targeting Pip, then the club will be safe.”

  Gears winks at me. He might not have heard the words, but he’s read the sentiment.

  “I’m going up to get a shower. Hey,” I grimace, “The accommodations aren’t much here, Cat, but we’ll make do for now, okay? You coming?”

  “Leave App with me, if you like?” Gears calls out.

  As Cat passes off Swift’s hearing dog, I use the bannister to haul my ass up the stairs, and turn into the closest room. There’s a bed and that’s about all I can say, and a bathroom which could probably do with a scrub, though it will need one again once I’ve finished, so I’m not bothered.

  I can’t get a read on Cat, I muse, as I wonder whether to strip off in the bedroom or try to manoeuvre with my awkward casts in the tiny bathroom. I decide it will have to be the latter as I don’t want to traumatise her. While, for now, she seems more like her old self, she’s probably running on adrenaline. When she crashes, I’ll have to be prepared for her to come down hard. She’s had one shock after another, and my literal fall from grace as I slid from the building can’t have helped her.

  She’s followed me into the bedroom and is looking around in disgust, her nose wrinkling.

  I feel embarrassed. “Look, it’s not much. We’ll go to a hotel tomorrow.”

  She gives a quick shake of her head. “A few days ago, I’d have looked on this as paradise, Finn. I’m just trying to process that I’m here, and so are you. I thought I’d lost you again tonight.”

  I go to her side fast, risking placing my hand on her chin. “You can’t get rid of me that easily. It’s over, Cat. All we’ve got to do is move on. And we can do that. Tonight you can say we’re both survivors.”

  She sobs, and for a moment I hold her against me, well, lean on her really, but just let her cry it out. I’m proud she’s held it together as long as she has. For a moment I thought I was a goner, knowing she’d seen that, well, fuck.

  I’d taken risks, while I never doubted I’d disarm the bomb, she hadn’t known my confidence nor my level of skill. It dawns on me she must have thought she was going to be blown to smithereens.

  “That bomb, Cat. You weren’t in danger.”

  “I know,” she says through another sob. “I trusted you, Finn. But, why did it explode later?”

  “That was me, I rigged it to cause a diversion.” It had worked better than I had expected. I didn’t expect the whole damn clubhouse to go up.

  “Next time, could you give me some warning?”

  I can’t help it, I laugh. “I’m fuckin’ hoping there won’t be a next time.”

  She pulls away, but only so she can rub away her tears which have mingled with the dust that covers me from head to toe. Her face might be lined with streaks, but she’s never looked more beautiful to me.

  When she glances at her hands, she notices they’re filthy, then her eyes narrow on me. “You need to shower. Do you want me to help?”

  I didn’t realise how tense I was, how scared of saying, doing, the right thing until she said those words. Fuck yes, is my answer.

  “I have to get out of these clothes. I shower naked,” I make it plain. “Though, don’t expect much. I think I might have broken my dick on the way down.” I certainly hadn’t done it any favours.

  “I’m not exactly in working order,” she tells me with a shudder and her eyes become hooded at her own reminder.

  My lips purse. “We’ll get through this.” I promise her again.

  37

  Cat…

  Back in Kentucky, when Finn first spoke about the Utah Satan’s Devils’ clubhouse, I’d imagined something much like the place I’ve come to now, and nothing like the modern office block where I’d woken up—hell, was it just yesterday? So much has happened it seems a lifetime ago.

  This is more rustic, basic. A long two storey building with an auto-shop attached, a compound surrounded by chain link fencing, and a huge sign proclaiming it’s the home of the Satan’s Devils MC. The clubroom has nicotine stained walls and ceiling, and the bar top is smooth, polished by thousands of elbows that must have rested there over the years and ringed from numerous drinks. The air is tainted by the scent of stale beer and cigarette smoke.

  The kitchen, well, from my quick sneak look is nothing like that which I saw when I’d glanced behind the counter during dinner last night. The thought of Cowboy cooking a gourmet meal in there is laughable. The grease on the stove is half an inch thick, it looks like no one’s ever cleaned it.

  The bedrooms, well to say they could do with a good clean is an unde
rstatement, they could probably do with fumigating as well.

  I know why Finn didn’t take me to a hotel, our appearance would have caused questions, but his concern this place would make me cut and run isn’t right either. It’s old, but lived in and used. Surprisingly, even given the state of the furniture and decoration, it feels more like a home than the building that was so recently destroyed.

  A new mattress, fresh lick of paint, a good polish and a gallon of disinfectant, and I’ll be quite happy to stay here.

  The near loss of Finn had put everything into perspective.

  I knew Finn was going to the roof, I’d heard that part of the plan. But what I hadn’t picked up was that he was going to blow the place sky-high with him on top of it. If I’d known that, well—could I have stopped him? I doubt it. It’s probably best I knew nothing about it.

  Thank heavens for Pip who’d kept me company in the safe room. Barely had he shut the door when there was that deafening explosion, the safe room had rocked, moved, making me stagger and knock into the side. The panic of not knowing what was going to happen outweighed the fear when Pip took me into his arms, using his body to save me from injury.

  Even when the initial movement had ceased, the crashes, bangs and agonised shrieks of steel beams thundered around us, were amplified by the steel cage we were in. App, well even as well trained as he is, added to the cacophony by barking. I’d picked him up and had held him.

  “You’re safe,” Pip had told me, firmly. “We’re going to survive. This room is fireproof, and sturdy.”

  I didn’t care about myself, didn’t have it in me to care about anyone else, not even the dog I was holding. Suddenly it came into focus, the way Finn had left me, a goodbye in his eyes as he ascended to the roof. What do I know about buildings? Had Finn been aware he was putting his life on the line and saying goodbye for a final time?

  “Finn!” I cried out.