by Hazel Parker
With that, he pulled Lilly back into the room. A second later, a Bloodhound appeared in the window and prepared to shoot at us. Someone behind us, though, laid him out, and the Bloodhound slumped to the ground, his blood splattering on the window.
“Saw him coming a mile away,” Niner said. “Let’s go!”
We didn’t waste another moment. Marcel and I took both sides of the front door. BK led about a half-dozen men to the front. He chambered his leg up, kicked the door down, and roared as he and the other men walked in. More gunfire erupted, and I couldn’t help but think that we were sending a lot of men to their deaths while we just stood at the entrance.
“Clear!” BK yelled a short while later.
“Everyone alright?” I said.
“Fine,” he said. “No fatalities. For us.”
The building had more than enough men strewn out on the ground, though. Over a half-a-dozen Bloodhounds lay dead on the ground, the bullets to their skulls and chests ensuring that they wouldn’t get back up.
“Jesus,” Marcel said. “You really did a number on them, BK.”
BK didn’t say a word in response.
“I’m going upstairs,” I said. “This is my battle, Marcel. He’s got my girl.”
“Jack—”
“Let me get Lilly and I’ll call you,” I said. “We need to end this together, but I need to get my girl first.”
Marcel bit his lip and nodded.
“I’ll help secure the area and get us organized. Make sure that no more Savage Saints get wounded and that those hit get treated.”
I nodded and ran for the stairs, ignoring the fact that there were bound to be more Bloodhounds in the area. Just before I reached the top, I turned the corner and looked down the left hallway, toward my parents’ old bedroom and my bedroom. Nothing.
I looked to the right. There were two doors, one straight ahead and one tucked into the right side. The one straight ahead was Marcel’s bedroom. The one to the right was Kyle’s bedroom—and where he had Lilly.
Her name came to my throat, and I almost shouted it to make sure that Kyle hadn’t done anything to her yet. But so long as he was alive, I needed to keep the element of surprise. I went to the door—
I heard something behind me.
I swiveled my gun just in time to see a Bloodhound raising his rifle. I fired and ducked. I could feel his bullet whizzing by, and my heart raced so fast that I thought it was going to just shut down.
But the Bloodhound fell.
“We’re coming up, Biggie!” Marcel yelled. “We’ll clear the area for you. Get the girl!”
I didn’t need anything else said. I turned to the door, raised my foot, and kicked the door down.
Immediately, I had Lilly thrown at me. I grabbed her and deftly moved to the side as Kyle, raising a gun, had tried to use her as a distraction to get a shot off at me. But being as inexperienced and useless with a gun as he was, I easily made sure that both Lilly and I avoided getting hurt. I, in turn, shot him in the thigh.
Lilly screamed in horror. I almost shot Kyle in the face, but only Marcel’s shouting prevented my finger from pulling the trigger. I left Lilly behind, grabbed the gun from Kyle’s hand, discarded it, and propped him up against the wall. Blood was gushing from his leg; I didn’t know if I had hit an artery, but I did know that there was little chance that Kyle was going to survive the next ten minutes.
“Go in here,” I said to Lilly, guiding her to Marcel’s room. “Stay in there. Don’t leave until we get you. You’ll be safe.”
Lilly, though, just numbly looked at me, tears starting to form in her eyes. Keeping my gun trained on Kyle, I grabbed her, waited until Marcel and the others went into the room with Kyle, and then took her to Marcel’s room. I hugged her tight and let her sob against my chest.
“I have to finish this, Lilly,” I said.
“You don’t,” she said. “He’s a creeper, but don’t—”
“Lilly,” I said. “It’s club business. I never wanted to drag you into this, but this is part of what I do. Please.”
Lilly didn’t like it. She sobbed harder. But eventually, she just said, “Make it humane, if you have to.” I promised her I would and kissed her on the top of the head. She collapsed against the wall, buried her head between her knees, and covered her ears.
I couldn’t even begin to imagine the trauma that she had been through in the last day or so. It was one thing to write about traumatic events; it was an entirely different thing to live through them. I was no writer, and I was never going to be able to describe the violence as she would, but God knew I never would have wanted her to go through something like this.
Once I knew she was safe, I walked back into the room and saw Marcel with his gun trained on Kyle, who was moaning as he lay dying in the room.
“Everyone out,” I said. “Marcel and I will take care of this. Now. Secure the house while we handle this.”
The Savage Saints complied immediately, the last one shutting the door behind him. Marcel lowered his gun, realizing that Kyle was no longer a threat.
“This is the end of the line for you, brother,” I said.
I intended to start speaking harshly and tell him that the Kyle that I had known had died long before this moment. I intended my final words to him to be tough.
But now, standing here before him, even as I knew I had to kill him, even as I knew I would do nothing to save him, all I could feel was hurt and regret. Hurt that our feud had come to this, regret that I could not have done enough to prevent him from coming this far.
“I know,” he said. “And it’s deserved.”
Marcel looked at me in surprise. I wasn’t that surprised, to be honest.
“This life…this life has not been good to me,” Kyle said. “But I didn’t do many favors for myself.”
He chuckled, but he was becoming wearier by the second. His eyes glossed over, and it wasn’t because of the madness that had overtaken him.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry…for making us this.”
In my peripheral vision, I saw Marcel pursing his lips as if trying to prevent himself from becoming too emotional. I was in the same boat as him.
“I just wanted to be equal,” Kyle said. “To just…be the same. But I hurt others. I killed. I deserve…this.”
Marcel still had the gun in his hand. I motioned for him to put it away. Kyle wasn’t getting out of this alive, regardless of what we did; we didn’t need to dance on the grave of our brother any further.
I went over to Kyle, crouched before him, and put my hand on his shoulder.
“Do us a favor,” I said. “If you see Uncle on the other side, tell him you’re sorry. And then we’ll be good.”
No, I didn’t believe in the afterlife. But if it got Kyle to—
“Yeah,” he murmured. “Sorry for that.”
It was all I wanted to hear.
An apology for killing his uncle. An apology for his greatest sin.
I squeezed his shoulder as my eyes started to water. I stood up as Kyle drew his last few breaths. I didn’t turn back to watch him pass away; the lasting image of him apologizing for what he had done was enough.
I went over to Marcel, sighed, and shook my head.
“It’s done,” I said. “It’s over. Our greatest battle is over.”
But the greatest battle wasn’t us versus Kyle. It was Kyle versus his own demons—and his demons had won.
Perhaps I was giving him too much credit. Perhaps Kyle was desperately trying to hold on to life and was hoping an apology to us would somehow make it better. Perhaps his words were not the words of a man repenting at the minute of his death, but the words of a narcissist who acted only in self-interest.
But as I had noted before, I was not someone who could bury the dead with the “objective truth” or even the probable truth. I was a man who buried the dead with honor, grace, and respect for the good in their life, no matter how lopsided things were toward darkness. Perhaps
it was more accurate to say Kyle was a bad man who had good moments instead of a good man who dealt with some serious demons, and perhaps I was being selfish for preferring to see him that way.
Practically, though? He was dead. I was alive. Lilly was alive. I had to live with how I remembered Kyle for the rest of my life. I preferred to live with the idea of him finding that peace and equality he had looked for in those last few moments.
I went over to Marcel’s room, ignoring the looks from the other Savage Saints as I opened the door. Lilly was staring straight ahead, her eyes distant.
But when she turned to me, her eyes focused suddenly. They found their center ground. They found their peace.
“It’s over,” I said. “Let me take you home.”
Chapter 20: Lilly
So much had happened, and so little of it made sense.
How my life had gone from that of a typical author, writing in coffee shops and doing spurts at home, to someone who had become romantically entangled with a biker club and then nearly died as a result, was beyond me. The fires of the city in my book paled in comparison to the fires that my spirit had gone through the past couple of weeks.
But as I rode on the back of Jack’s bike, numb to what had happened and the sensations of the bike, I started to slowly feel those fires start to diminish a little. The smoke was still everywhere, and there was still plenty of coughing and foul stenches to deal with. The ashes from said fire would remain in my mind for quite some time.
And yet, there was light emerging from the hazy smoke that had clouded my mind. There was an awareness that, without Kyle around any longer, Jack and I could finally be something and do so in peace. I was in no mood and in no shape to do anything other than crawl into bed, cuddle up on Jack, and try to sleep in his presence tonight, but maybe when I woke up, things would be better.
When we got to my place, I hopped off the bike. I looked at Jack with a sweet, tired smile.
“Thank you for coming to get me,” I said.
“Absolutely,” he said. “I would have gone to Boston or Las Vegas if I had to in order to save you. You’re someone very special, Lilly. I’m sorry for everything that you went through, but, well, I’m glad you’re alive.”
I laughed a little. Laughing was obviously hard right now with everything that had happened, but I supposed it was a great sign that I could laugh.
“Listen,” I said. “I just…I just need you to spend the night. I just need someone I can trust by my side tonight. Can you do that?”
Jack didn’t hesitate. He immediately killed his bike, hopped off, and slung his arm around me.
“I’ll stay by your side until you tell me to leave,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere, Lilly. That’s my promise to you.”
I believed it unequivocally. And he proved it, following me wherever I went into the house, right up to the point where I curled into bed in my t-shirt and underwear. I didn’t expect to fall asleep so easily for everything that I had gone through, but with Jack close to me, protecting me, I was out before midnight even hit.
* * *
When I woke up, I looked up to see an arm over me, holding a cell phone, sending a text.
I tried my best not to read it, but curiosity got the better of me. Jack was texting Marcel, and from what I could see of the message above, Marcel had asked Jack to come by the shop so that he could bid farewell to the other Savage Saints.
“Am staying with Lilly right now. She needs my help. I’ll come by if she wants to be alone, but otherwise, I’m with her.”
As soon as he sent it, he locked the phone, tossed it somewhere soft behind him—it barely made a muffled sound when it landed wherever it did—and wrapped his arm around me. He had no idea that I had read it, which made that all the sweeter; it wasn’t done for appearances or to win me back. He genuinely meant it.
I tried to fall back asleep, figuring Jack needed the rest as much as I did, but ten minutes spent in his burly arms told me that there was no drifting back off. I’d gotten all the sleep I would for this night, and if more came, it wouldn’t come until I was alone or so tired that there was nothing that could keep me alert.
I stretched out and gently rolled away from Jack, whose arm collapsed onto the bed, his eyes still closed. I went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and cleaned my face, all the while still admiring the good fortune that I had had.
I’d always tried to make my characters the type that could withstand extreme duress and danger, but it was easy to imagine it when your inspirations were characters like Rey from Star Wars or any of the Marvel superheroes. When your inspiration was real life, it was that much more amazing to realize people really could handle the stress and nightmares thrown their way. I wasn’t about to say that I was on the same level as a soldier or a policewoman—no way, no how.
But it was nice to know that I had survived the ordeal and emerged with my sanity still intact. There would be days where I would remember what had happened in painful detail, and those were going to be dreadful days. But here I was, in the flesh, with everything intact. That had to count for something.
I walked back into the bedroom to see Jack finally up, resting his head on his hand. He waved me over, and I happily complied. As soon as I got under the covers, he pulled me in for a gentle kiss before pulling me in for a tight hug.
“How are you feeling this morning?”
“Better than you’d think,” I said as I kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks in large part to you.”
“Oh, well—”
“No, no, don’t qualify it,” I said with a smile. “Just accept it. You saved me, Jack. That counts for something.”
Jack smiled, but I could tell his smile was a little forced.
“What’s wrong?”
He looked up at the ceiling, let out a loud exhale, and still remained silent for several moments before he finally spoke.
“I just can’t help but wonder if there’s something I could have done to save Kyle,” he said.
He let the words settle. He didn’t ramble and add anything more. What he had said was more than enough to make the point. I knew he was quietly hoping that I would say something to ease his pain, something to put his soul at rest a little bit. I was confident in my writing skills, but my speaking skills were more than a little lackluster.
“You know, I’m not sure what Kyle told you, but I knew Kyle when he was a child, too,” I said. “I helped him a lot in those days. I prevented bullies from picking on him. I protected him. And even with all of that…he still turned into the man that did what he did last night.”
I swallowed.
“Sometimes, Jack, men just have demons that nothing can drive out. We like to believe that therapy, religion, or love can drive those things away, and in most people, they can. But for some people, for some very unlucky people, nothing is ever going to help them. And I hate to say it, but I think Kyle was one of those people. You did all that you could. I know you did, because I know you, Jack. You’re a good man.”
Jack didn’t quite look like he believed me, although it wasn’t outright disagreement. It almost felt like he just didn’t want to admit that I might be right, as if that would unburden him from something that he didn’t deserve to be free from.
“If I prevented Kyle from being bullied, supported him, and was kind to him, and he still turned into the man he did? I’m no saint, but Kyle didn’t have a completely bad life. He had people supporting him. And he still…well, he still did what he did. You have to forgive yourself for what happened, Jack. You have to realize that you are a good man.”
“I know,” he said. “And I know that you are a great woman.”
“Oh, stop.”
“No, seriously,” Jack said, rolling over to face me. “If we’re going to talk about how Kyle was who he was at heart, fine, but then we have to look at the flip side—we have to look at the people who really are good at heart, the people who can fight their demons and not get beaten down. You, Lilly, are absolute
ly one of those people. You are someone who has stared a lot of shit down, especially in the last few weeks, and you’re still a sweet person.”
“Aww, Kyle,” I said, feeling emotion surge in me.
“You know, before everything started happening here, I would see my brother and some of the other officers in the club get their dream girls. And I always cheered for them, and I always supported them. But I also always wondered when that would happen to me. And I’m so sorry that you got put through the wringer by being with me…but I think I can safely say that because of you, I’m a better man. And I hope, Lilly, that now that we have all the bullshit out of the way, now that things are going to settle down, we can give this a try again.”
The way my body responded—with warmth, excitement, and almost giddiness—told me the answer. I could sit there and pretend to ponder all of my options, or I could just go with what I knew the answer was—yes.
“I think that would be wonderful, Jack,” I said.
Boy, you should have seen how his eyes lit up, how the smile went from hesitant to full-borne, how he leaned forward and kissed me and hugged me like he hadn’t seen me in years. And while that obviously wasn’t literally true, to some extent, he hadn’t seen the unrestrained side of me in some time. Really, ever since the night we first had sex, we both had largely resisted being ourselves and giving fully of ourselves.
But with all of the extenuating circumstances gone and removed, we could finally be at peace.
And then, as our kissing grew deeper and deeper, what few clothes we had came off, and we started to make love.
I didn’t choose my words by accident—the physical act was having sex, yes, but the intimacy that we both felt, staring into each other’s eyes as he worked inside of me, was what defined the next several minutes. The physical was great, don’t get me wrong—he got me to orgasm twice.
But when I looked into his eyes, when I saw that joyful smile, when I felt my heart swell with happiness, I knew that I had found my one. I had found, as my book would say, not the fire of the city, but the wings to lift my soul to new heights. No metaphor could truly do justice to how I felt about Jack, but I could say, in as simple as possible terms, that he and I were going to last forever.
