Iron Heart (Lords of Carnage Ironwood MC)

by Daphne Loveling

  “Fuck,” Ranger groans. “So here we go. Indio was right.”

  Axel’s face is stony, impassive. “Not only that. The Caballeros have taken credit for ambushing Mal and Cyndi. They’ve taken credit for the garage bombing.”

  “God fucking damnit, those bastards,” Mal hisses.

  Axel pauses, letting Mal vent, and then continues.

  “They also intercepted Dom’s truck, which was filled with our last shipment that was supposed to go north to Tanner Springs.”

  “Goddamnit!” Bama explodes up out of his chair. “I knew that fucker couldn’t be trusted!” He turns to me, jabbing a vicious finger at my face. “Your piece of shit brother is probably is on the take for the Caballeros!”

  “Shut it, Bama!” Axel warns. “This ain’t the time.”

  “But goddamnit, Dante’s the one who —”

  “I don’t give a sideways shit!” Axel shouts. “Sit your ass the fuck down and shut up! We don’t know what the fuck is going on with Dom yet. But right now, we don’t have time to figure it out. Right now, we focus! Dante’s brother’s gone missing, and Los Caballeros have him. We’re not sure if he’s a prisoner or an accomplice. But either way, he’s ours, and we’re takin’ him back. And, there’s one more thing,” Axel says, looking at me, “They also have Dante’s girlfriend.”

  “Fuck ‘em!” Bama spits out. “Fuck ‘em both. I say we leave both of ‘em to the Caballeros. Let them do whatever the fuck they want with ‘em. Maybe they’ll leave us the fuck alone if we do!”

  Ranger snorts. “You’re fuckin’ high if you think that. The Caballeros ain’t gonna be satisfied with that. We don’t have a choice. We gotta get them out. We’ll figure out what to do with Dom afterwards. But him and the girl are ours. We take them back.”

  Bama snorts. “Fuck that shit! Dom’s a traitor!” he yells, waving his arms. “And ain’t no gash worth risking our lives for! I say we face fuckin’ reality. The Caballeros…”

  I’m out of my seat and launching myself at Bama. Before he realizes what’s happening, I have him on the ground, my hands wrapped around his throat, choking off his air supply.

  “You’re about to leave this world, Bama,” I roar. “And believe me, it’s gonna be a fuckin’ pleasure to be the one to do it.”

  “Dante!” Rourke yells. “Back off!”

  “Not a fucking chance!” I yell back continuing to choke him. “He’s wasted too much goddamn air on this planet!”

  A bunch of rough arms yank me back and pull me off Bama. Gasping, he kicks his feet wildly at me, then backs himself against the wall, sucking in air.

  “Dante!” Axel shouts. “We ain’t got time for this. This shit gets settled later. Right now, you want to save your brother and your girl, we gotta move!”

  My prez’s words shake me out of it. I know he’s right. We have to get to Tori before it’s too late.

  I rear back and spit in Bama’s fucking face.

  “You watch your back, you son of a bitch,” I snarl.

  I turn back to the table and throw myself back into my seat. “Okay. Go.”

  Axel looks from me to Bama. Shaking his head in disgust, he turns to Yoda. “The phone,” he mutters.

  Yoda nods once and takes out Dom’s burner, pushing it across the table to me. I grab it and hold it up.

  “Dom left this burner in his room,” I announce, waving it in the air. “He left it out in the open, for me to find. I know that because he put my name in as the passcode. There’s a GPS app on here showing a location of another phone connected to it. I think it’s Dom’s phone. I think he meant to give me a way to find him, in case something happened.”

  For a moment, no one talks as they weigh my words. Finally, Ranger speaks up.

  “Okay. So, we’re thinking if that’s where Dom is, it’s probably where Tori is, too.”

  “That’s the theory.”

  “We’re goin’ in, then.”

  I look at Axel, who nods grimly. “That’s the plan. Go in, take out as many of them as we can, pull out Dom and Tori.”

  “And then?” Bama challenges.

  Axel gives him a hard look. “Then we figure out what Dom’s role in this is. And if necessary, the club will decide on consequences.”

  He glances at me, and I nod. I know what will have to be done, if Dom’s found guilty.

  “Meantime, we concentrate on getting them both out,” Axel stresses. We don’t know how many Caballeros there will be at the location, so we gotta be ready. We’ll need as many men as we can spare. Yoda, you’ll stay here in case we need some tech support.” He pauses. “Mal, you’re stayin’ here too.” He nods at Mal’s arm, which is still in a cast.

  “Fuck,” Mal grumbles.

  “Everyone else,” Axel continues, turning back to the rest of us, “you’re coming with me.” He looks around the table.

  Everyone nods. We’re all in.

  “Okay, then. Get ready to saddle up. The Caballeros don’t know who the fuck they’re dealin’ with. But they just made it personal.” His face spreads into a malicious grin. “Let’s go fuck them up.”

  30

  Tori

  My blood turns to ice.

  “What?” I whisper at Dominic, horrified.

  “We have to get you out of here, Tori. I know you don’t trust me. But you don’t have a choice,” he repeats. “Tell me. Are you strong enough to walk, maybe to run?”

  I don’t let myself hesitate. “Yes.”

  “Okay.” He drops to his knees and starts pulling at the duct tape. Where I couldn’t even begin to find the edge, he’s ripped through a good chunk of it in seconds. Soon, my legs are freed.

  “Move your ankles around. Make sure your legs aren’t asleep.”

  I do as he says.

  “What’s the plan?” I ask breathlessly.

  “There isn’t one. You run. We hope you get out before they shoot us.”

  “Shouldn’t we wait for…”

  “What?” Dominic challenges.

  “I don’t know…” Dante, my mind screams. But I know it’s irrational, crazy, to hope he’ll be able to save us. “The right moment?” I say instead.

  “Maybe. But there’s no guarantee there will be one.” He frowns, shakes his head. “I tried to get a message to Dante, but I thought he’d be here by now.”

  “Does he know where we are?” I ask, my voice going squeaky with hope.

  “I don’t know. Maybe.” Dominic pauses, looking somber. “But we can’t wait for that, when there’s no way to know. And I don’t think they’re going to wait much longer to —.”

  He cuts himself off before he can finish. I open my mouth to ask him what he was going to say, but a shiver runs down my spine as I realize what I think he means.

  “Why?” I whisper. “Dominic. Why wouldn’t they give us back, if the Lords do what they say?”

  “The Lords aren’t going to be intimidated by idle threats, Tori.” He pierces me with a look. “They don’t back down. Ever. These guys, they know that. The only shot they have at getting the Lords to do what they want them to is to show the Lords know they mean business.” Dominic swallows. “The only way to show the Lords they mean business is…”

  He trails off. But he doesn’t need to finish.

  “So we need to save ourselves,” I croak.

  Dominic nods.

  “How?”

  “They think I’m on their side,” he breathes. “Or at least, they think they have enough leverage on me that I won’t dare go against them. That’s why I’m able to come and go up here.”

  “What leverage do they have on you?”

  “That doesn’t matter.” Dominic pushes my question away. “The point is, they know I know they’ll kill me if I betray them. They’ve made sure I know that going against them is a death sentence. So they won’t expect it.”

  “Then how —”

  “You’re going to escape.” He cuts me off, nodding toward the window. “Now. I’m going to go down there and di
stract them in the back of the house. There’s a guard in the front, just inside the door, but if you’re very quiet and careful, you can slip out and down the side. Just be careful as hell not to make any noise, and not to go by any windows.” Dominic pauses. “We’re on the third floor of this house. So it’s not gonna be easy. But you can do it.”

  Third floor. I’m guessing that’s why they didn’t tie me up as carefully as they could have.

  “But Dominic, when they figure out I’m gone, won’t they know you helped me?”

  “Don’t worry about me,” he cuts me off. “I’m gonna be fine.”

  “But you said they would kill us both!”

  “Tori…” My name comes out hoarse. He clears his throat. “I’ve done some bad shit. Shit that, once the Lords of Carnage find out, they won’t be able to excuse.”

  “But Dante wouldn’t —”

  He shakes his head. “It ain’t Dante I’m worried about. But I wouldn’t blame him for anything, no matter what happened. I’ve betrayed him, Tori. I betrayed my own brother.” His voice goes rough again. “At least I can do what I can to save the woman he loves.”

  “He doesn’t love me, Dominic!” I protest.

  “Like hell he doesn’t!” In spite of everything, Dominic chuckles softly. “I’m not sure if he knows it yet, but he’s always been a slow learner. He’s head over heels for you, babe. And frankly, I think you feel the same way about him.” He pauses, looking grim. “The best thing I can do right now is to give my big brother a ghost of a chance to figure it out with you. So, I’m gonna take my chances here, and you’re gonna escape. Got it?”

  Oh my God. We’re doing this now? Right now?”

  “Um…” I lift my hand to my face, noting that it’s trembling. “Dominic, what if…”

  “Don’t think,” he says urgently. “No more what ifs. Just do it. You can do this, Tori.”

  I suck in a shaky breath. “Okay.”

  “I’m going downstairs now. Locking the door. Give me sixty seconds. Then get out of here.”

  I nod, not trusting my voice.

  “Okay. And one more thing.” Dominic swallows, then looks at me with piercing eyes. “Just in case this all goes south, I want you to give Dante a message for me when you see him.”

  I shake my head, not wanting to believe things could go the direction he’s implying. Not wanting to believe that he might not make it out of here alive.

  “Tori.” His voice is gentle, but firm.

  “What’s the message?” I croak.

  Dominic hesitates, then glances down at the floor for a second before looking back up at me.

  “Tell him I’m sorry.”

  He leans over and kisses me softly on the cheek. “Okay. It’s go time. You can do this. No noise. Don’t get seen. Get to the ground and run like hell.”

  He stands up, turns, and strides quickly across the room, not looking back.

  Then, he’s gone.

  The lock clicks behind him.

  I start to count to sixty, making myself pace out the seconds. As I do, I get up and cross over to the windows. One faces the front and the street below, the other the side of the house. Dominic is right. I’m on the third floor. There’s a roof below the front window onto what must be the front porch. If I can drop down to it without being seen or heard, I can probably jump down from there. But I can’t imagine how not to land on it without making any noise. And Dominic said there’s a guard right inside the door.

  The side window is a better bet for not being heard, but the jump is straight to the ground. What if I break my leg, or worse? I won’t be able to run away.

  I don’t have any time to think. On impulse, I grab the lift of the side window and pull it open. It’s partly painted shut, but comes loose after a second. I blow out a shaky breath, almost crying with relief. There’s a screen, too, but it’s ripped, and I grab the ripped piece and pull. It’s so old it gives way without too much resistance.

  I poke my head out, just a little bit, to look around me. There’s no window directly below me. No one inside the house will see me if I jump from here.

  There’s also a large but overgrown bush, down and at an angle.

  I make my decision.

  As carefully as I can, I ease myself out of the window. The metal of the screen frame digs into the palms of my hands, but I ignore it. When I’m almost through, I lean over, then carefully flip myself onto my stomach. My full weight causes the screen metal to slice into my abs, and I have to stifle a yelp of pain. Pushing myself off, I use all the strength I have in my arms to lower myself as slowly as possible out of the window. My sneakers slip, then find a little traction on the worn siding of the exterior.

  Inch by inch, I lower myself as far down as I can, until I’m hanging off the sill, my fingers aching from the hard metal biting into them.

  I look down and to my left. The bush looks impossibly far.

  But I have to try.

  Quietly, I try to dig my feet into the siding a little, then experimentally swing myself to the right, just a bit, letting the momentum carry my back and to the left. One more time, pushing myself right just a little harder.

  Then, as I swing back to the left, I let go of the sill, push off with my feet, and brace for impact.

  The jolt of my landing feels like my legs have been sent up through my chest. For a second, all the air is pushed out of my lungs, and I can’t breathe. A branch of the bush rips at the flesh of my thigh. I clamp my teeth shut and will myself not to scream, even as a choked gasp rips from my throat.

  Blindly, I push myself up onto my feet and try to run. Almost instantly, I stumble and fall as a searing pain shoots through my left ankle. I bite back a yowl and fall to the ground. The agony is intense. There’s no way I can run or even walk like this. If my ankle isn’t broken, it’s at least badly sprained. I won’t make it twenty feet on foot.

  Terrified, I go on instinct and drag myself behind the bush. I pull myself into a ball and hug my arms around my knees, being careful not to hurt my injured ankle. I send out a desperate prayer to the universe that I’m invisible from here — or at least unnoticeable. As my breath comes in short, frantic gasps, I stay as still as I can and will myself to calm down. I spend a few precious moments listening for any changes inside. So far no one has come out of the house. Maybe no one heard my fall after all. Maybe if I’m lucky, I can figure out another way to get away. Maybe I should crawl? Is there anyplace close I can crawl to and hide? My eyes dart around, scanning for something — anything — that might hide me.

  Suddenly, a shout from upstairs comes through the open window. Shit! It’s an angry male voice, and I don’t think it’s Dominic’s. There’s only seconds until someone leans out to see if they can spot me — and if I can see the window, they can see me behind this bush from above.

  Without thinking, I lean forward and get on my hands and knees. Scrabbling, I scramble away from the bush as fast as I can along the side of the house, staying close to the foundation. When I get to the back, I see there’s a crawl space under the back steps, and I immediately slide into it. Just as I manage to get all the way in, there’s more shouting, and some bangs that sound like people being slammed into furniture.

  Then, the unmistakable blast of a gunshot.

  Almost at once, the entire area around the house seems to explode with life. Men in leather vests I immediately recognize appear out of nowhere and swarm the place, guns up and ready to fire. There’s a louder explosion right above my head as a bullet hits the back door and splinters it. Shouts from the Lords of Carnage in a sort of code fly fast and furious. I tuck my head in toward my knees, squeeze my eyes shut, and focus on just breathing and willing my heart to not seize. I do my best to ignore the disgusting muck I’m lying in, the masses of cobwebs in the wooden planks above me. I try not to think about whether there are spiders, or rats, or worse under here with me — which is a little easier than it usually would be, considering I’m mostly just hoping not to get shot.
<
br />   More shouts. More gunfire. I’m whimpering under the back steps, trembling from fear and pain, staring out from the dark, eyes bulging, scanning for any visual signs of what’s happening. By now the neighborhood should be swarming with cops, but from what I saw in my brief look out the windows before I jumped, this seems like an area where the sound of gunshots isn’t all that rare. I hear people yelling, and oh, God, I think just for a second I hear Dante’s voice calling my name, but I can’t be sure. And it might just be that I’m hoping for it so bad that I’m hearing things, hoping that maybe he’s here with the other Lords and that the reason has at least a little to do with me.

  I don’t know how long it all lasts. I know it’s long enough that the muddy ground I’m lying on has soaked through my clothes, long enough I’ve gotten used to the musty odor under here and I can’t smell it any longer. Long enough that when the shooting finally stops, the sudden silence that replaces it seems to ring out louder than the bullets did.

  I stare out from the darkness onto the patchy weeds of the backyard, my whole body tense. Something’s happened, Something’s over. But I have no idea who won. Or who is still alive. Or whether anyone’s coming for me. If I’m safe, or if I’m in even more danger than before.

  If I had two good legs, I’d get up and run like hell. The urge to flee wells up inside me like a wave. Something brushes against my arm in the dark, and I stifle a scream, shuddering violently and pull my arm in close. I’m envisioning a rat scurrying through the muck down here, and then I freeze, wondering if sudden movements will aggravate it. I’m fighting a mounting sense of panic, and I know I have to be careful, that if I let it take control, I’ll do something stupid, I’ll be lost.

  This space suddenly feels smaller, and darker, and wetter than before. I’m desperate to climb out but terrified at what might await me if I’m seen.