I’m stuck. Paralyzed.
My heart starts to pound a little harder in my chest. As I continue to scan the grass for any sign of movement, a sudden loud noise inside the house makes me jump, and I bump my head against a wooden beam. My heart does an erratic little series of skips in response. My breathing gets more labored as I start to cry quietly from pain and desperation. My sobs turn to hiccups, then to gasps. I start to get a little dizzy. Then I realize what’s happening.
No! No no no!
I can’t be having an attack! my brain cries out stupidly to my body. I don’t have my meds! I can’t do this! Not now!
I start to crumple. The edges of my vision grow spotty like television static snow. My hearing starts to tunnel. I’m not sure if I’m about to faint, or something worse. I think voices are coming toward me, but I don’t recognize any of them, don’t know if they’re friends or enemies. My body, my brain, starts to feel fuzzy, like I’m underwater. I press my hands to my chest, willing my heart to please slow down, to cooperate with me, to help me…
“Tori!”
Rough hands pull at me, gripping under my arms and sliding me out from the darkness and muck. I’m too debilitated to resist, too addled to realize at first that someone said my name.
“Tori!” the voice shouts again, louder and more urgent. I look toward it and try to focus, try to make absolutely sure that I’m not dreaming this.
But I’m not. It’s him.
Dante.
Relief — blessed relief and thankfulness make just the tiniest cut in the gray fog that’s closing over me. Dante, I want to say. You’re here. You came. But all that comes out are wheezes.
“Shit, Tori,” he rasps, alarm showing on his handsome features. “Are you having an attack?”
I try to shake my head no, which is ridiculous, because of course I am.
“Just…” I gasp. “It’s…”
He shushes me and gathers me up in his arms, holding me to him, rocking me against him. I close my eyes and concentrate on breathing, on his warmth, on how good it feels to be here right now. I try not to think about anything else, about anything bad. I just focus on him. On this. On feeling safe. It’s okay. Dante’s here. It’s okay.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, I feel the constrictions in my chest start to ease up a little. It’s like the giant fist that has hold of my heart just loosened its grip, ever so slightly. The tunnel of snow at the edges of my vision begins to recede. I open my mouth and take a long, slow breath.
“Okay,” I sigh through my exhale. “That’s a little better.”
I feel the muscles in Dante’s arms untense a bit. “Thank fuck. You had me scared there for a minute.”
In spite of myself, I let out a small giggle. “I had you scared?”
“Hell yes, you did.”
I giggle again. “It’s weird to think of you scared.”
“Well,” he says huffily, but with a tinge of humor, “not that scared.”
I look up into his face, really seeing him now for the first time. Tears spring to my eyes at how familiar he is. How well I know the scruff of his beard, and the black pools of his eyes. His beautiful lips, that are so much softer than you’d think they’d be. For a second, I just want to look at him, and do nothing else. But then I see the true concern in his eyes, and I know he’s still worried about me. So I do my best to snap myself out of it.
“How…” I suck in more air and try again. “How did you find me?”
“Long story about how we found the house,” he rumbles. “But Rourke saw you crawl from the bush to under the porch.”
“Oh, right. You were there. You were probably already hiding, getting ready to attack the house.”
God, if I had known the Lords were on the verge of arriving here to save me, what would I have done? Would I still have jumped? Or would I have stayed in that room, and been killed by one of the men inside when the ambush started? I stifle a shudder.
“You have some cobweb in your hair,” he murmurs, with a slight smile. He reaches up and brushes it away. Then, he lowers his hand to my cheek and caresses his thumb gently across my skin.
Behind me, someone clears his throat. I look up, and for the first time I realize we aren’t alone. Clustered around us are five Lords, including two I recognize. The one called Ranger gives me a grim smile.
“Glad you made it out,” he remarks. “You jump from up there?” He points to the window.
I nod.
“You jump into that bush to break your fall?” Ranger asks. I start to ask him how he guessed, but then I look down and realize my arms are cut to ribbons from the branches.
“Yeah.”
“That took guts,” he says approvingly.
“Or stupidity,” I retort, but his flattery gives me a warm little glow inside.
“We should get you out of here,” Dante breaks in, his voice turning more businesslike. “You feeling better? You think you can ride on the back of my bike?”
I take a moment to evaluate. “I think so. But I’m pretty sure my ankle’s broken.”
“No problem. I’ll carry you.”
Dante shifts his weight, then scoops me up in his arms like I’m no heavier than a pillow. I’m sure I smell terrible from being under the porch, and my clothes are still muddy and wet, but he pays no attention. He lifts his chin wordlessly at the other Lords, and they drift away — some toward the house, some coming with us. Dante tells me their bikes are hidden in an alley a block or so away.
“Wait!” I interrupt suddenly, remembering. “What about Dominic?”
For the first time, I realize that the front of Dante’s shirt is covered in blood.
Dante gives a little shake of his head. His jaw works for a moment before he speaks.
“Dom’s dead,” he says.
“What?” My hand flies to mouth. My eyes flood with tears. “He can’t be! Oh, my God, Dante!”
Dante’s own eyes begin to glisten as well, but he shakes his head and sets his mouth in a deep frown.
“Dom was my brother, but he betrayed the club, Tori,” he says hoarsely. “I’m sorry he’s gone. But his decisions were what got him here. He knew the risks. He lied to the Lords. And…” he finishes, “he lied to me.”
“I know all that!” I whisper as I begin to cry. “He told me.” I shake my head as the tears down my face. “He said he didn’t mean to, Dante! He came to Ironwood to get away from some bad people, but they tracked him down and blackmailed him. He never wanted to hurt you. He never set out to betray the club.”
Dante looks a little stunned by my words. “He told you all that?”
“Yes. Please, Dante, don’t hate him!” I cling to his neck, my eyes searching his. “He knew he made a mistake. A bad one. But Dominic saved me! He helped me escape! I might be dead if it wasn’t for him!”
Dante blinks. He looks like he doesn’t believe me.
“It’s true!” I insist. I’m close to sobbing now. “Dante, he told me to tell you something in case…”
My voice breaks. I let out a sob, shaking my head, overwhelmed.
“What is it, darlin’? Tell me what he said.” His face is still hard, but his voice is gentle
“In case he died,” I finish in a whisper. “He…”
I choke, the last words Dante’s brother ever said to me echoing in my head.
“Dominic said to tell you he’s sorry.”
31
Dante
Tori rides home on the back of my bike like a champ, even with her fucked-up ankle. I consider bringing her back to the clubhouse, but right now I want her safely away from everything MC related. Instead, I break off from the formation when we get into Ironwood and drive her to her place. I call two prospects to stand guard outside, with strict orders to call me if anything even slightly out of the ordinary happens.
Axel sent Reno ahead to the clubhouse to get some medical supplies, and he meets me at Tori’s house not long after we get there. In the living room, he stabilizes Tori’s an
kle, and gives her some painkillers and a med to help her sleep. He tells Tori she ought to go to the hospital to get her foot X-rayed, but she refuses.
“Right now, I just want to get cleaned up and rest for a while,” she insists. “I promise I’ll go to get it looked at tomorrow.”
I carry her upstairs to her bedroom and set her up in the bed. She’s still dirty and cut up, but she says she wants to sleep for a while before she tries to take a shower.
“I’m gonna have a couple of the old ladies come over to keep you company,” I say, sitting down on the bed beside her. “Reno’ll be here until they get here, just in case you need anything. I have some club business to take care of. I probably won’t be back tonight. But I’ll come back and see you tomorrow. Okay?”
Tori looks up and me and gives me a small, brave smile. “Okay.”
“Good.”
On impulse, I reach over and cup the back of her head, bringing her face to mine. I kiss her, softly. The kiss of a lover. A kiss I’ve never given anyone before.
“Take care, Lois Lane,” I whisper.
Back downstairs, I check in with Reno before I leave.
“Call me if she ends up needing anything,” I tell him. “I’m gonna have Bailey and Laney come over later. I figure she might like some female company.”
“Will do.”
“Well, I better get back to the clubhouse. Axel’s holding church in a bit. Looks like we’re gonna have some decisions to make.”
Reno nods, looking somber. “I’m almost glad not to be there. I’m sorry about your brother, Dante.”
Up until now, I’ve managed to keep my emotions mostly at bay. But at Reno’s words, a tidal wave of grief, loss, and anger rises up in me so strong, it feels like I’m going to drown in it.
My brother’s gone. My fucked up, irritating, dumbshit of a baby brother.
Jesus Christ. I don’t know how I’ll ever fill the hole that he leaves in my life.
“Thanks,” I manage to say.
Reno claps me on the back once, then looks down and shakes his head. “And look. You know how I feel. If it comes down to a vote in church,” he mutters. “Bama needs to pay for what he did.”
“That’s for Axel to decide, I guess.”
“He’ll do what’s right.”
“Well, I better get over there.”
Reno nods, then claps me on the back again and pulls me into a rough hug.
“You take it easy, brother,” he says. “I got everything under control over here.”
Everybody’s already in the chapel when I get there. They look up in unison when I come in. A few of them lift their chins at me.
“Brother,” Axel murmurs. “Now that Dante’s here, let’s get down to business.”
He bangs the gavel.
“After today, I think it’s pretty clear we’re in all-out war with Los Caballeros. We’ll have a lot of shit to talk about. But we’re gonna have to leave most of that for later. Right now, we have a more important matter.” He turns and looks at Bama. “Bama shot one of our own. At the trap house where they were holding Tori. He killed Dante’s brother.”
None of the men react with shock. The ones who weren’t with us have already heard from the ones who were. Bama shot Dom in the chest. At point blank range.
He didn’t bother to try to hide his actions.
And he made sure I was there to see it when it happened.
I watched my blood brother die, from a bullet from my MC brother’s gun.
And the grin on Bama’s face as he did it will stay in my own memory, until the day I die.
“He wasn’t one of our own!” Bama protests. “And he was a traitor!” His eyes are wild as he looks at the other Lords. “He sold us out to the Caballeros, to save his own fuckin’ skin! You know that! You all know that!”
It’s true. What Bama says is true. I’m not gonna deny it. And I’m not gonna argue.
I always said it from the beginning. If Dom fucked up while he was working for the club, I wouldn’t let my relationship to him get in the way.
My job right now is to be true to my word. Even though it’s ripping me apart.
“I don’t regret killin’ that motherfucker,” Bama seethes, pleading his case. “You all know what he did was a death sentence! Well, I gave it to him.” Bama rounds on me, his features edged with anger and hate. “You’re the fuckin’ Enforcer of this club!” he sneers. “You! You’re always so fuckin’ high and mighty about enforcing the club rules. Your brother betrayed us! What about the fuckin’ rule for that?” He looks around the room, eyes wild, and locks on Mal.
“And what about you?” he demands, pointing at Mal’s cast. “Thanks to Dante’s brother, those fuckers ambushed you on your bike. Maybe that chick you were with wouldn’t be dead, if it wasn’t for him!”
Mal flinches. The guilt he feels at Cyndi’s death is still fresh, and Bama knows it. Mal turns and stares at me.
For a moment, I see nothing but anger.
But he says nothing. Just clenches his jaw. And after a moment, he looks away.
Axel gets to his feet. “The club decides this shit. I decide this shit!” he thunders at Bama, thrusting a thumb at his chest. “The last time I checked, I am the president of this goddamn club. And the men of the Lords of Carnage answer to me!”
“Dom also helped save Tori,” Ranger announces in a loud voice. He glances from Mal to me, and then around the table. “She told Dante that herself. I was there to hear it. He cut her loose. Told her to jump out the window and run for it. And then he stalled the Caballeros long enough so she could get away.”
“I don’t give a god damn if he saved that snatch.” Bama turns, and spits on the ground. “She ain’t in the club. She ain’t nothin’ to us, except where Dante gets his dick wet.” He sneers at me. “Dante’s word ain’t worth shit, either. His loyalty ain’t with the Lords. If he had his way, Dom woulda gone scot-free for this shit! Dante woulda talked all you pansy-asses out of punishing his brother.” He spits the word out. “Fuck it,” he sneers. “Dom betrayed us. I killed him, and he deserved it.”
Up to now, I’ve been quiet. But I’m not about to let that shit stand.
“Dom fucked us, that’s true,” I speak up. “I didn’t see that coming. Maybe I should have. Maybe I was hoping for the best in him. That’s my crime, and I’ll accept any punishment you want me to take for it. But you all know I would never argue with club justice. At least, I hope you do.” I stare at each of my brothers in turn.
“Maybe the Lords would have voted that Dom deserved to pay the ultimate price. Hell, you probably would have.” The ball of ice in my throat gets harder, and I have to choke my words out around it. “But he deserved to tell his side of the story. And then, the Lords should have put it to a vote. That’s club justice.”
“You took matters into your own hands,” Axel growls at Bama. “That wasn’t your place. What’s more, you’ve made it pretty clear this is about Dante as much as it was about Dom. You say you did what you did for the club. That’s bullshit. You did what you did because you wanted to. Nothing more.”
There are murmurs of assent around the table. Bama’s eyes widen. For the first time, he starts to look more worried than defiant.
Axel’s eyes narrow as he continues. “You put all of our lives on the line because of your fucking bullshit, Bama. Your loyalty to the Lords of Carnage is in serious question. That’s the last thing we need when we’re going into a full-out war. A war where each and every one of you men need to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that we all have one another’s backs.”
Axel stares at Bama for a long moment, then breaks his gaze.
Slowly, his eyes shift to the man who sponsored Bama for entry into the club.
Rogue.
Rogue nods back at him.
“I move Bama be stripped of his patches,” he declares.
“Second,” Rourke speaks up.
Bama starts to stand up. “Wait!” he sputters.
Ranger
and Yoda grab hold of him and pull him back down.
“All in favor. Show of hands.” Axel raises a hand. He looks at me, and I shake my head once. I’m abstaining.
One by one, around the table, hands go up. The last one is Mal’s.
Except for me, it’s unanimous.
“Mark ‘Bama’ Isaacson, you are hereby stripped of your patches and expelled from the Lords of Carnage MC,” Axel announces in a loud voice. “You will immediately remove and surrender your patches and leave this clubhouse. You will cover over any tattoos or other marks of identification with the Lords of Carnage, under pain of death. Going forward, you are forbidden to pretend or claim any association or membership to the Lords of Carnage MC, under pain of death.”
Bama’s so still, he looks like he’s paralyzed. He doesn’t say a word. His face drains of color.
Those patches mean everything to him. They do to all of us.
And now, as Enforcer, it’s my job to take them.
Axel nods at me. I stand and face Bama.
“Take off your cut.”
In shock, he stares at me, shaking his head. “No. Please…” He starts to struggle against Ranger and Yoda’s grip, but they hold him down and pull it off of him as he begins to yell and kick.
“Take him out,” Axel commands over the din. “Make sure he leaves the compound. And make sure the guards know not to let him back in.”
We watch, wordlessly, as they remove a shouting Bama from the chapel. Seconds later, the sharp bang of Axel’s gavel brings us back to attention.
“We’re done here for now,” he barks. “Church tomorrow, usual time. Don’t be fuckin’ late.”.
“Jesus,” I mutter, running a hand over my head. “What a day.”
“No fuckin’ kidding,” Rogue agrees. “I’m gonna go get wasted as shit.”
In spite of myself, I have to laugh. Bitterly. “Not a bad solution.”
Rogue files out with most of the rest of the men. I stay behind to talk to my prez. Soon, only Axel, Rourke, Mal, and I are left in the chapel.
“I accept whatever consequences the club gives me,” I tell Axel. “I brought Dom to the club. Everything that’s happened as a result is my fault.”
Iron Heart (Lords of Carnage Ironwood MC) Page 21
