by Bo Reid
Making my way down the hallway to the kitchen, I move around the bar to make a cup of coffee. When I hear the front door open and close, the smell of Frenchie’s French Toast hits my nose instantly.
Hunter woke up early this morning to head to Frenchie’s before they even opened to get everyone breakfast. Luckily for us, Morana keeps Abigail's personal cell phone number on hand and Hunter was able to call her. She was more than happy to help us out.
Hunter sets multiple to-go bags down on the counter, pulling the containers of food out and spreading everything across the bar. A French Toast buffet. Just another thing our girl loves.
French toast and murder. Sounds like a great way for our girl to start the day.
“Everything good?” I ask Talin as he and Emma walk into the kitchen.
“Yeah. Our supervisor called, apparently Agent Connors is missing. And he, along with several others, received a very detailed file on all of his discretions and unsavory connections,” Talin says, smiling.
“I put in my notice, effective as soon as I finish filing my reports on Morana’s case. Which has effectively been dismissed due to lack of evidence and her savage lawyer,” Emma says in a chipper tone as Nash comes up behind her, wrapping his arms around her.
“What about you?” Hunter asks Talin.
“Same. I cited reasons of misconduct within the unit. Explained that I’d reported Connors to superiors’ numerous times that went undocumented. Told them after how this case went down, I no longer have the level of confidence in the system needed to properly do my job.”
“You sure about that? Not going to regret things later are you?” Morana’s soft voice comes from the doorway to the kitchen. We all turn to take her in. Her hair’s twisted up in a towel, and she has a fluffy black robe wrapped around her. Nash drops his arms from around Emma and steps up to Morana.
“Hope you don’t mind, I found my old box,” she says to him as a smile breaks across her face. I look to Hunter and he just shrugs. But Emma has a shit-eating grin on her face, so something tells me she’s in on whatever this is.
“Course not, Darlin'. Did you go through them all?” he asks.
“Yup, kind of kicking myself for not opening them sooner,” she says.
“Uh, I’m lost,” Hunter says.
“She finally opened all her birthday presents,” Nash says, turning back to us before pulling Morana into a hug.
“Oh shit, do we get to do birthdays now?” Hunter asks with enough excitement in his tone you’d think he was the one to get presents.
“We can figure something out, but nothing crazy.” Hunter’s smile is so wide it might break his face. “I’m serious, Hunter,” Morana says, pointing a finger at him. He holds up his hands in surrender, but I see the wheels in his head turning.
“You knew about this, didn’t you?” Nash says to Emma.
“Maybe,” she replies with a smile, stepping into his outstretched arm before he kisses her.
“You okay?” Morana asks Nash.
“I’ve got my two favorite girls here, I couldn’t be more okay, Darlin'.”
“Okay, Love, breakfast then murder?” I ask, motioning to the spread Hunter brought home, and watch as her face lights up.
“Hell yes.”
Morana
“For the record, I’m not going to regret anything that you have to do, and nothing changes. I’m still all in,” Talin says as I pluck a slice of banana off his plate. He smiles and plants a kiss on my cheek.
“You don’t have to come with us though. This isn’t your fight,” I tell him.
“If it’s your fight, then it’s mine too.”
“I just don’t want you to hate me when this is over,” I whisper.
“Pretty Girl, stop trying to get rid of the man,” Hunter says as he places a fresh cup of coffee in front of my plate. “Where you go, we go. That’s how this works. Your fight is our fight. If you’re bringing a war, we’re backing you up.”
“How are we going to play this anyways?” Emma asks.
“Actually, I was hoping you could help with that,” I say and watch Nash still slightly, but I don’t intend on having her in the mix of everything. I’d never do that to him.
“Sure, what do you need?” she asks.
“Can you locate and keep tabs on all the MC members? I want to get them all out of the clubhouse. We move in and rig the place to blow, then I want to get as many of them back in there as possible and hit them at once. Whoever doesn’t make it back in time, we need to immediately track them down and take them out,” I say, and she smiles.
“Fuck yeah, I can do that. When do you want to blow it up?” she asks.
“Tonight.”
By noon we’re sitting on the outskirts of the field that the rundown Fallen Angels bar sits on. One by one we watch the members peel out on their bikes. Whatever Emma did to get them to clear out like that is beyond me.
“Okay, you guys should be good to go, but keep in mind the prospects probably didn’t go with them,” Emma says through the phone.
“Thanks, girl,” I say as I pass the phone to Nash to keep in contact with Emma.
We move across the field keeping our eyes peeled for any movement around the bar. Entering through the back door, Ranger silently slips his backpack off. It’s holding our arsenal.
“Spread out and kill anyone left,” I say, and we move around the bar. The first person I come across is the prospect that was manning the bar on my first visit here.
“Hey there, Honey, what’re you doing back here?”
“Oh, you know, a little of this, a little of that,” I say as I step around the bar and walk up to him.
“What can I do for you?” he asks, eyeing me up and down. I smile at him, peeking up at him through my lashes.
“You can die,” I say with a sugar-sweet smile just before I jam my blade into his abdomen, shoving it under his rib cage and twisting it. His eyes widen as blood starts to drip from his mouth and he makes a lovely choking sound. I smile as his knees give out and he drops to the ground at my feet.
“It’s clear, Love,” Ranger says as he steps into the room. I grab a rag off the bar and wipe down my now bloody knife, smiling over at him.
“Can you guys move this body?” I ask sweetly, and he rolls his eyes. But he moves over to walk around the bar, looking down at the body at my feet.
Ranger and Hunter drag the prospect around the bar and stow the body in a cleaning closet that’s never housed cleaning supplies if the amount of grime on every surface of this place is any indication.
“Okay, let’s do this,” I say as Nash grabs the backpack. He unzips the bag and pulls out the claymore mine. Moving towards the back of the bar, he slams the spikes into the rotted out wooden floor and hands Hunter the spool of wire.
“I’ll hold this end here. You take the spool out the back door and as far into the back field as it will go.” Hunter nods and starts unrolling the wire as he walks out the door.
“Are you sure this is going to work?” Talin asks, looking at the small plastic box.
“Oh yeah, claymore mines have a fifty-meter kill zone. As long as they’re all inside the bar when we set it off, they’re all dead,” Nash says.
“But to be sure, we’re going to turn on the stove and leak the propane before we go. If they don’t die from a direct hit from this little baby, they’ll die in the fire,” I finish explaining as Hunter walks in.
“Okay, it’s about halfway in the field. It’s far enough out that we’ll be hidden behind the tall grass.”
Nash nods. “You guys head out and I’ll get this set up.”
“No, we leave together,” I say, turning towards the kitchen. I click the stove on and the propane starts leaking out immediately.
Nash attaches the wire to the mine and stands. Taking one last look around the bar, we head out back and into the field to wait for our targets.
I’m rarely one to put so much distance between myself and my kill but I’m over fucki
ng around with these guys.
“Emma says they’re on their way back. Seems about five of the guys are hanging back. We can hit them on our way back to Sanorah though,” Nash says.
I nod just as I hear the first rumbles of the Harleys coming up the road. We watch from the back field, tucked into the tall grass as twenty Harleys pull up to the bar and park. They all laugh and joke. I see Stan ‘Trigger’ Tatum, the club MC, head inside as all the others trail after him. When the last man steps inside the bar, Ranger moves closer to me.
Nash sets off the mine and the explosion of the claymore mixed with the added bang of the propane rattles the ground underneath us. Every last nail in the bar explodes as the flames lick towards the sky. Ranger crushes me when he tucks me under his body, but I smile when the heat of the inferno touches my face.
When the dust settles, we stand from our place and take in the carnage we created. Nash throws his arm around me, planting a kiss on my forehead before picking up his phone and calling who I assume is Emma.
“We did it, Love,” Ranger says as I hear Talin load his Glock.
“We’re not done yet,” he says, and we nod. Turning around, we walk across the field to our cars waiting just beyond the tree line.
Talin
“Emma says they’re still sitting out at a rest stop off Miller Road,” Nash says to Ranger.
“What do you want to do, Love?” Ranger asks Morana as she leans her head on his shoulder.
“I’m pretty tired so let’s make it quick. She said five are left?” she asks turning to Nash. He nods. “Does she know who the five are?”
“Prez is there, but she says the others are just lower level guys.” At that Morana perks up.
“They’ll be packing guns, at least Glocks on each of them. You guys take out whoever you want and cover me. William’s mine,” she says, smiling.
Ranger drops Hunter, Nash, and I off just down the street from where the MC is, then he turns down a back road to lead him and Morana to the other side of the members. We’re going to close them in. The three of us are a distraction, allowing Ranger and Morana to sneak up on the members.
“You going to be okay?” Hunter asks as we walk up the road.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“In the course of a few short weeks you’ve gone from putting the bad guys in jail to sleeping with one of them in some weird harem situation with two other dudes,” Nash says helpfully.
“I was referring to the mass murder we’re committing today,” Hunter deadpans.
I think about the last few weeks and how everything’s played out. “Yeah, I’ll be just fine.” I smile as we round the corner and spy five MC members sitting on their Harleys, shooting the shit. Looking beyond them, I see Ranger and Morana appear.
Showtime.
We don’t give them time to react before drawing our weapons and opening fire on them like sitting ducks. I think I should feel bad about the events of today. By the end of the day, I’ll be an accomplice in twenty-five murders and various other felonies, yet I just can’t find it in me to care.
Ranger takes out the fourth guy by snapping his neck in an unnecessary show of brute force. What I’ve figured out about all of them over the last few weeks, but most importantly the last few days, is that Morana’s the leader. And they, well we, will follow her into the darkest pits of Hell without question. Ranger’s the unspoken Alpha leader, second only to Morana.
I’m not sure if that’s because he was adopted first, or because he steps into that role with ease. Possibly a mix of the two.
Hunter’s the voice of reason. He has a way about him that can get anyone, Morana especially, to calm down when it’s needed. But he also has the ability to control a situation if needed. His way just requires finesse while Ranger uses brute force.
Nash’s the caring, funny, outgoing best friend of the group. The closest thing that Morana has to a real brother, minus the bloodline. Although sharing the same rare blood type and shockingly bright green eyes, they might as well be blood.
I’m not exactly sure how Holt and I fit into this world, but somehow we’ve managed to seamlessly integrate here.
Murderers and FBI agents.
Killers and saviors.
Lawbreakers and the law.
The Reapers and the fools who love them.
“Don’t cower, William, it doesn’t suit you,” Morana says as she stands in front of William ‘Wildman’ Wilder, President of the Fallen Angels MC, with her blade pressed against his throat.
“Now, I wish I had time to slice and dice you, but truthfully, I’m so sick of spending time in this shit-hole town. So, I’ll make it quick.” She presses the blade into his throat, causing a thin line of blood to appear and drip down his neck.
“They’ll come for you. You won’t get away with this,” he manages to growl and sound almost threatening, but Morana just smiles.
“Oh, shoot, that’s right. One last thing. Your little clubhouse? Yeah, it’s gone. All those members you sent back there, yeah; they’re gone too. Blew them up. BOOM!” she says moving her hands to mimic an explosion and laughing when William’s face goes white.
“Yeah, so no one’s coming after us. And, Honey? I always get away with murder,” she whispers before driving her blade into the side of his neck, twisting it in his throat and ripping it back out.
Looking around I assess the slaughter we just caused on the side of a rural highway. “Uh, what do we do with the bodies?”
“Goons,” the four of them say in unison.
Chapter 22: Sarin
Unknown
Once again I’ve been thwarted by a goddamn Valdis. I’m truly getting tired of constantly having to deal with their blood.
“What the hell are we going to do now?” My agent says as he paces back and forth in front of my desk.
I shrug. “We’ll just have to figure out another course of action to get her out of the way.”
“Sir, forgive me, but I just don’t get it,” he says, bracing his hands on top of my desk.
I lean back in my chair, lacing my fingers together casually. “What is it that you don’t get, agent?”
“Her. Why is ruining her so important? Aeron I get, we had to get him out of the way. But fuck, it seems like it’d have been smarter to just kill the girl too. She just took out an entire MC without batting an eye. What makes you so sure she won't come after you next?” he asks.
I smirk. “She has no idea who I am.”
“If we keep gunning for her, she’ll find out. I don’t know about you, sir, but I’m not looking forward to having that little she-devil mark me as enemy number one,” he huffs, going back to pacing around my office.
A knock sounds at my door. “Come in,” I call.
“Sir, this file was left for you,” one of our file clerks says while passing me a thick folder. She eyes the stressed-out agent in my office, but knowing her place, doesn’t say anything.
“What’s that?” he asks, pointing at the file.
I open it and skim across the first page before tossing it on my desk. “Apparently someone’s taken the liberty to provide a file of all agent Connors’s wrongdoings. Should fit nicely into his disappearance.”
“You don’t think it was her, do you?”
“Son, she not only has a lifetime of mob politics under her belt and three murderers willing to do anything to keep her, but she now has two federal agents on her team. One of which was the best technical analyst this department has ever seen. She can do anything she wants,” I huff, rolling my eyes. How did I end up with such a stupid agent on my side? I might have to resolve him sooner rather than later.
He lets out a deep breath and collapses into a chair across from me. “What are we going to do now?”
“Regroup,” I sigh, scrubbing a hand down my face. “We let them leave like they want to, let them live a cushy life for now, and when the time comes, we hit them hard. Next time I go up against Morana Valdis the only blood that will be spilled
is hers,” I grit.
“How long do we wait?”
“As long as it takes. Sooner or later an opportunity to destroy her will turn up. Until then we wait. We pull the strings behind the curtain, and we watch her every move. I want her to be comfortable, to think she got out clean. I want her to think she won, and then I want to drop a war on her doorstep she never saw coming.”
“You want to ruin her.”
“I want to end her.”
Chapter 23: Zinc Phosphide
Morana
“Guys what about this one?” I ask, flipping the laptop around to show them the house.
“How many bedrooms?” Ranger asks.
“Eight bedrooms, eleven baths, and it’s just shy of fourteen thousand square feet,” I say as I flip through the pictures the realtor sent us.
The newly constructed mansion in Aspen, Colorado is just shy of thirteen million dollars. It might be a tad excessive, but you get to be a little excessive when you can afford to be.
Murder pays.
“How much?” Talin asks as his eyebrows scrunch together, probably trying to estimate the price. I keep forgetting he’s new to this life. Very new.
“Around thirteen million.”
Talin makes this funny choking sound as he sucks in air and Hunter slaps him on the back, laughing.
“Darlin, you’re going to give the poor guy a heart attack,” Nash says, laughing.
“You’re joking right?” he asks.
“Uhh, no…” I say trailing off. “Talin, we make more than that in a year and that’s before you add in my father's cut, which is now mine. And my inheritance, plus dad’s life insurance, which is all-around five hundred million. Plus the money from the sale of the main house, this building, and the other properties around here. Unless we keep those and rent them out or something,” I explain and watch Talin’s eyes go wide.
“How many properties do you guys have?” he asks.
