Big Daddy

by Alexis Abbott

  It’s a woman, and she’s staggering up the side of the road.

  There’s obviously something wrong with the way she’s walking. As we get closer, I can tell that she’s unwell, her clothes are tattered, and she has an arm feebly extended to the road with a thumb up.

  As soon as we’re close enough that she can see us, though, and she registers what’s hurdling toward her, she turns and tries to run away from the road. She must have seen the bikes and taken off running. She would have no reason to run from Heartbreakers if she knew who we were. That gives me a good idea of what she’s really running from.

  We pull over to the side of the road and cut her off before she can get far, and Tank moves around into her direct path with a hand out and a “Woah, woah, easy, we’re on your side!” assurance that the girl doesn’t seem convinced of as she looks around.

  “I’m not going back!” she snaps immediately, trembling despite looking malnourished as hell and about to fall over from exhaustion.

  “Nobody’s taking you back anywhere unless it’s somewhere you want to go,” Tank says in as soothing a tone as a man like him can manage.

  “Where did you come from?” I ask.

  “Who are you?” she asks, showing remarkable bravery all things considered.

  “We’re the Heartbreakers,” Tank says. “We help out folks who look like they’ve had a rough day. You look like you’ve had a rough day. I’ve got a blanket and some water in my hutch, if you want to take a breather,” he says, carefully dismounting his bike and standing invitingly for her.

  She cautiously looks at all of us, then steps forward toward Tank. “Cindi,” she says at last. “My name’s Cindi Barrows.”

  “You’re one of the girls who’s been in the news recently,” Breaker remarks, nodding. “I thought your face looked familiar.”

  “People are looking for me?” she asks with wide eyes. “I-I’ve been with these bikers who...this woman came and sent me out out of nowhere, I didn’t even get her name, but-”

  “Wait, slow down, one thing at a time,” Tank says.

  “We know what those men were going to do with you,” I say, giving her a grim nod. “But you don’t have to worry about that anymore, we’re going to put an end to that.”

  “I came from a house,” she breathes. “It’s off Canyon Road just half a mile or...or something, I- I’m not sure.”

  “I know where that is,” I say, nodding. “Don’t worry, sounds like we’re headed to make sure nobody comes after you.”

  “Are...are you serious?” she says breathlessly.

  “Will you come with me?” Tank asks. “I’ll get you to our clubhouse where you’ll be safe, unless you’ve got somewhere to go. You look like you could use some food, first of all.”

  She nods almost immediately, then gives the rest of us a wary but grateful look, smiles, and gets on the bike with Tank to tear off down the road.

  And now there’s nothing between us and Diesel...but Juliette.

  Juliette

  My blood is still boiling, and there are little cut marks in my palm from where my fingernails dug in from clenching my fist so tight. My fingernails aren’t even that long, it was just all I could do to keep from leaving a mark on Diesel’s face for the things we fought about.

  And we have not stopped.

  “I don’t want to hear it!” I shout at him as I turn and storm across the living room, grabbing my purse and feeling my legs shaking with anger in every step. “Just- just stop!”

  “Yeah I bet you don’t want to hear it!” he barks at me, and by now, Jesus Christ his voice is like a nail he’s tapping into my skull with every syllable.

  I can’t be in here anymore, I can’t.

  “You never wanted to hear it!” he shouts, red-faced while I fumble with the door handle, feeling like an idiot who can’t even manage a fucking lock while my own brother barks at me like he always has. “That’s why you’re about to run off again, aren’t you? Good fucking riddance, you should have stayed gone the first time and not caused all this bullshit!”

  I catch those words just as I’m stepping out the front door. It’s not just the words themselves that sting like a scorpion stinger right into raw skin.

  It’s the sincerity.

  I can usually tell when my brother is just being a shithead to be a shithead. It’s something about his tone that gives it away. This is different. I can tell I’ve cost him real money, which is all he’s ever cared about anyway. No wonder this is the only thing that gets an honest rise out of him is something that threatens his fucked-up income.

  My skin is crawling. I just...can’t stomach this right now. I slam the door behind me, fuming as I make my way to my car, and by the time I sit down in it and let my head thump back against the seat, I feel it all boiling over again. I slam the car door shut, cover my mouth with my arm, and scream.

  I did this a lot when we were growing up. Back then it was a little slope by a reservoir I’d sulk off to and do the same thing, but the second I got a car, that became my sanctuary. It isn’t much of one now that I’m a little more jaded than that, but the long, hard scream I belt out into the crook of my arm is still pretty satisfying. I scream until my throat feels sore, and then I let my head fall back onto the seat again and glare at the ceiling, feeling my heart racing.

  Fuck him. Maybe he’s right. I don’t even know, I just want to get the fuck out of here and drive as far away as I can. I finally look up and adjust the rear-view mirror, and my heart promptly stops in its tracks.

  Bikes.

  There are motorcycles lined up out front, idling, all the riders staring at me as they block the driveway. My eyes dart right to the one in the dead-center, the silhouette I recognize that makes my heart freeze for a beat. The next instant, I nearly jump out of the car to walk toward the row of bikers I recognize--all four of them, Big Daddy’s bike gleaming black in the sunlight as he holds my gaze with an iron grip.

  We glare at each other hard for a few long moments before I can’t hold back anymore. I storm forward, and before he can even open his mouth to say something to him, I throw my arms around him just as he catches me.

  I bite back tears as I dig my fingers into his kutte and breathe in the leathery, dusty scent that fills my nostrils as I lean against him, a mountain of steel that holds me comfortingly. His hands are rough, and he doesn’t say a word, but he’s as gentle as ever. I could melt into him, but I can’t let myself be that vulnerable right now.

  “I’ve missed you so fucking much,” I breathe.

  “You have no idea,” he growls, hugging me tight.

  I pull back from him and look around at the group, double-checking which ones are present. “One of you tailed me, didn’t you?”

  “Tank wouldn’t apologize if he were here,” Breaker says matter-of-factly.

  “I gave you all the space I could,” Big Daddy says, and I look up to him and into those dark eyes. “But we both know this storm is closing in on us whether we like it or not.”

  “I know what I saw in there,” I say in a muted tone, lowering my eyes.

  “We did too,” Bones speaks up. “I’m guessing you’re the one who sent her running out of this place?”

  “Tank is taking care of her,” Big Daddy assures me. “As for you, I need to get you out of here.”

  “Hell no,” I say firmly. “I’ve got to go back in there.”

  “Hell no,” he repeats, furrowing his brow. “You’ve seen what he can do when he’s angry. He’ll do worse.”

  “This is a family ordeal,” I insist, not willing to budge on this.

  “And you’re my family now,” he says in a tone that hits me like a bucket of fresh water I desperately need, bringing me such a soothing feeling that I didn’t know I needed. “Not just because you’re my wife, either,” he adds with a wink. “That does make the rest of them family, too,” he says with a jab of his thumb back to the rest of the Heartbreakers.

  They give nods, and my eyes pan over each of
them before coming back to Big Daddy.

  “Is that how you’re gonna make it be?” I ask with a soft smirk, crossing my arms.

  “That’s the way it’s gonna be, ‘cause I’m sure as hell not letting you walk back in there alone,” Big Daddy replies without missing a beat.

  Neither of us can speak for a moment, both of us glaring stubbornly at the other while I feel my heels practically digging into the concrete.

  But then I remember the feeling of relief that swept me up when I saw him just a few minutes ago, and the same feeling I had when I was resting against his back on a bike or on his chest at night.

  Those memories are some of the only smiles I’ve had in a long time. Now that guy has brought a whole entourage to the doorstep right at a time that I need it most. That’s more than any blood relations ever did for me, and a hell of a lot more than any man has ever done.

  Every instinct in me wants to fight it. I want to tell him to fuck off and turn right around to stomp in and go right back at screaming at my brother again. Big Daddy would probably still be here to catch me when I came out to scream a second time.

  It’s still all too fresh and too real that Diesel’s bullshit runs so much deeper than I thought. But if there’s one thing my husband has proven, it’s that he’s there to catch me when I’m at my lowest, and I can trust him when I’m in that place. I can’t trust anyone when I’m in that place, and I never thought I would.

  “Alright,” I say, nodding. “Just you. I know the rest of you want to kill him,” I say bluntly, looking around at the others, even though Bones tries to look innocent. “I don’t want you to do that, but at the same time, I...I don’t even know who he is anymore. And I don’t know if the man in there can be saved. He isn’t worth it, but he’s not stupid. Maybe we can get out of here without-”

  I trail off as I notice Ironside glaring down the road at the sound that I hear too. “Bikes,” Ironside reports, and my heart drops.

  “Your men?” I ask hopefully.

  “None of them should be out here,” Big Daddy says, dismounting his bike immediately and putting an arm around me as he looks toward the road and starts to tug me toward the house. “We need to get inside, that’s probably Diesel’s search squad he has looking for the girl who escaped.”

  “That means it won’t be more than a handful of them,” Bones says cheerfully, holding up a crowbar and brandishing it. “We’ll keep them off your back, you two go have a chat.”

  “Those fuckers aren’t going to be prospects,” Big Daddy warns them as he walks toward the house with me.

  “Yeah, these are men who ride with Diesel,” Breaker says, rolling his shoulders back. “Look sharp.”

  The other three ride off just as I see more riders appear around the corner of the road, and one of them has a chain swinging from the side of his bike as they take notice. I feel Big Daddy squeeze my hand as we pick up our pace and break into a run, darting to the side of the house and keeping low.

  Chainlink is leading the pack.

  “Shit!” I hiss as I hear gunfire out front.

  “I wasn’t expecting a warm welcome,” Big Daddy growls as we hustle. “Is anyone in there with Diesel that you know of?”

  “No,” I say quickly.

  We make it around to the backside of the house, and I hurry to the door ahead of Big Daddy. Before he can reach me, I turn the knob and thrust the door open, just in time to hear the sound of a shotgun cocking.

  BANG.

  Big Daddy

  Cheap wood splinters in a dozen different directions as the shotgun shells annihilate the cabinets Juliette almost darted in front of. I hold her tight against me and feel shrapnel sting into my exposed shoulders, blood trickling down my tattoos as I shield her with my body. I grabbed her the second she got the door open, because I knew Diesel would be setting up somewhere in the house as soon as he heard two sets of engines pulling up.

  He’s a bastard, but he’s a clever bastard.

  I didn’t come back here planning to put Diesel down, but it looks like he might not give me a choice. If he’s opening fire on Juliette, then the quickest way to make that stop is to open fire on him, and she’s going to have to understand that.

  My pistol is out before I even think about letting Juliette go. I push her away from the doorway and fire a warning shot in that hits the wall and ricochets to the side, and I hear a curse from the opposite direction. Heavy footsteps head into the living room, and I take the chance to dart inside the kitchen and gain ground before Diesel can take it back. The only problem is, he’s got a shotgun, and I’ve got a pistol.

  Well, two pistols, I decide as I take out the second one strapped to my side and hold both out and at the ready. I waste no time, partly because I know Diesel won’t give me any, and partly because I know another relative with every bit of Diesel’s determination is about to come charging in behind me.

  I learned my lesson the hard way about trying to shake her or keep her tied down.

  Almost immediately, I see the glint of the shotgun coming around the corner, and I slam the door shut behind me to delay Juliette just a little longer as I dive out of the way to the kitchen floor. There’s another hail of splinters as the shotgun destroys more of the cabinets--he doesn’t want to make it an incomplete demo job, I guess.

  The shotgun disappears from view, and there’s one other entrance to the kitchen around the opposite corner. I start to run for it, but suddenly, a blast of drywall comes flying just in front of me as Diesel fires off a round through the wall with that heavy shotgun.

  “Gonna be hard to get the insurance claim on this one, fuckhead,” I growl as I take cover behind the stove, aiming my weapon around the corner of the metal.

  “Whatever you leave your widow when I kill you will cover that bill,” I hear him snarl from the far entrance to the kitchen just before the shotgun appears around the corner again.

  As it does, there’s a sudden smash as a cinderblock comes flying through the kitchen window nearest Diesel. Shards of glass fly everywhere, and I hear Diesel curse just before he fires into the ceiling and takes out the kitchen lights with a deafening pop. I catch a glimpse of Juliette ducking away from the shattered window as I take her distraction to race to the living room and pop around the corner with both guns out.

  For a fraction of a second, I have Diesel down the sights of one of the pistols, and I’m ready to take the shot. As the tip of my finger slides over the trigger, the front door bursts open from the force of a hard kick that nearly knocks it off its hinges.

  Both Diesel and I are stunned as Chainlink bursts into the room with a lead pipe in hand, blood on his face from outside and a wild look in his eyes as he barrels toward me without so much as breaking his momentum.

  I fire a round at him that grazes a thigh before I have over six feet of him on top of me, and I’m barely able to roll with his swing to avoid taking the brunt of a lead pipe to the shoulder. We roll and topple together in a grapple, and I know I’ve got to be off this guy and on my feet in an instant if I want to make it out of here alive. Diesel probably isn’t above shooting his own men if he can get away with it, especially if it means dealing with me.

  I’m not going to give him the chance.

  The second I get a free hand, still holding a pistol in each, I bring one down against Chainlink’s head and hear a crack as he howls in pain. I push him off me and scramble to my feet just in time to see Diesel coming around the corner with that damn shotgun again. Not sparing a second, I fire from the hip.

  “Fucking cock!” Diesel roars as he snatches a hand back to him, holding it to his chest as his eyes go wide while blood spills from it. At the same time, his shotgun falls from his hands...along with the trigger and middle finger I just shot off.

  He tries to fall back into the living room, but I’m not about to let him go so easy now that he’s injured. Abandoning Chainlink, I make a run for Diesel as he disappears behind the wall into the living room. I’m nearly on top of him al
ready when I round the corner, and I throw my arms around him from behind before I feel us go into freefall.

  When we hit the ground, one of my guns goes off, and the television pops loudly as it fizzles and smokes out of the new hole in the spiderwebbing screen. Diesel rolls and tries to throw his head back to strike my nose, but I wrestle him around without falling for any of his tricks.

  I want a gun to his head so that I have a hostage. I can hear the sounds of battle outside, clanging metal and bullets in the street. Police will be on their way soon, if they aren’t all bought in this area. If not, more bikers will be here. Juliette is just outside, and there’s no safe place for her.

  As I grapple with Diesel, I realize I’m wrestling with the devil in the thick of my own worst nightmare. In a heart stopping moment, I realize that since I’ve left Chainlink, he could run out the back--and right into Juliette!

  He’s trying to wrench one of the guns from my hands while I try to get the other to aim, but we’re deadlocked. Finally, I know I’ve got to make a sacrifice. I can get my hand out of his arm if I don’t have that gun he wants so badly. With a flick of my wrist, I hurl it across the living room and under the television’s entertainment center.

  Free, I pull away from the now bloodstained Diesel, whose knuckle wound is flowing free now, and with a fluid motion I train my other gun on him.

  He freezes.

  “Gotcha,” I growl in a menacing tone.

  And that very second, Chainlink appears around the corner calmly, holding two pistols out and out the ready on me. I freeze.

  We’re at a standoff.

  I have a gun trained on Diesel, but Chainlink has one on me. If I fire, Chainlink fires. That would be a no-brainer risk to take for me on a normal day, but Juliette is out back. She’s managed to stay out of the firefight. I can’t let that go to waste by leaving her alone to face Chainlink with me injured or worse.

  “Well well well,” Chainlink says. “I gotta say I like this kind of meeting better than the fuckin’ pub.”