Vengeance (Steel Kings MC Book 3)

by Jamie Garrett

  On. Off.

  Merc appeared beside him, and Doc waited for him to breach, but the man stood silent, a wicked grin on his face. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a mid-sized black canister-shaped object. “Flash bang,” he said. “Let’s light those fuckers up.” Doc nodded, and he opened the door a crack, just enough to let the grenade go flying. The bang ricocheted through Doc, even with his ears covered, and the light now strobing from the door was so intense he had to force himself to stay alert, to stay on target.

  Seconds after the sound, Merc flung the door open and quickly cleared the hall, firing neat little holes into two men who had been standing in the hall before they could even get their guns back up. They wouldn’t be so neat coming out, thanks to the caliber their Sergeant at Arms preferred, but Doc couldn’t bring himself to care. There wouldn’t be any effort to save their lives, any need to clean up. The fuckers were dead before they hit the floor. Doc followed and swiftly took out a third. With his history, Merc had been uniquely qualified to take the lead on breach, but the last man had been Doc’s and his alone. Unlike the poor bastards who had been guarding the alley, there was no doubt these guys had been Jokers, and high-level officers at that. The final one with a hole now drilled between his eyes had been a dead man walking from the moment he’d attacked Ava at the hospital. Doc had simply put the universe right.

  But where the fuck was Emily?

  A wail split the air. A small child, terrified. Doc gritted his teeth so hard he was surprised he didn’t shatter a molar. She was alive, conscious, and healthy enough to scream. That was the good part. The fact that Emily was clearly out of her mind with fear because of that meant that every single Joker he came across tonight was going to die. Maybe next time they’d think before fucking with any of the King’s families. If there were any of them left at sunrise, that was. If they managed to eradicate the Jokers from the face of the earth, then he’d end the day smiling. He moved swiftly down the hall, leaving the clearing of any remaining rooms to the rest of the Kings behind him. Sticks had picked up a couple of extras now they’d found the target, and they had more than enough to make sure the rest of the floor was clean. The men holding Emily were his, and no one else’s.

  He kicked the door open, lined up, and fired—no hesitation. Twice more, then as the bodies hit the floor, Doc quickly scoped the room, making sure no one else was hiding in the shadows. Sniffling met his ears, and the dim light he’d seen flicked on behind him. Doc was damn glad he could tell it was Sticks behind him, because he couldn’t have wrenched his gaze away from the sight in front of him if he’d tried. A small group of women—no, girls—sat in the corner. Some were shackled to an oil heater, others to each other. And in one young girl’s arms sat a tiny bundle in unicorn pajamas, her face pressed into the other girl’s chest.

  Emily.

  The girl shushed her, rubbing her back and gently rocking her. Doc stepped forward, and she looked up, wide-eyed, scrambling back at the sight of the gun in his hand. Jade Williams. They’d found her, and she was rocking Emily in her arms.

  Thank fuck.

  He tucked his gun into the back of his pants and closed the door, muffling the sounds of Merc, Sticks, and the boys finishing up. God knows the girls in this room didn’t need to hear any more of that, to witness another single second of anything other than sunshine and kittens. He held his hands up in surrender, kneeling down in front of Jade. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I’m not here to hurt you.” He pointed to Emily, who had turned her head around at the sound of his voice. “She’s my daughter.”

  He held his arms open, and Emily willingly climbed into them. At the contact of her tiny hands on his neck, pieces of Doc’s shattered heart mended together. Now he just had to get Emily back down to Ava and perhaps he’d be able to breathe again. He turned, shielding his daughter’s face with his hand until he could be sure the hall was clear, then opened the door. Vlad met him in the hall. “Bolt cutters, stat.” A nod, and then their president was gone, leaving Sticks to stay with them. They’d be safe. Doc could move and find the rest of his heart. Ava’s face filled his mind. He couldn’t wait for the reunion, and then just maybe, after they’d had time to recover, a reunion of a different kind altogether between him and the woman he loved with all his heart. These two were his future. He’d never been surer of anything in his life.

  As he descended the stairs, Emily wrapped her arms tight around him, almost burrowing into his chest. “Are you Superman?” she asked.

  “No, honey,” he said, swallowing the large lump that appeared in his throat. “I’m your dad.”

  26

  Doc

  Doc almost ran down the stairs. Only the precious cargo wrapped in his arms made him slow down, make sure that his feet were firmly on each step. His speed was fueled by two things: the desire to get Emily the hell away from there as quickly as possible, and seeing the breathtaking smile on Ava’s face when he delivered their daughter to her waiting arms. Behind him, he could hear Sticks and Vlad shepherding the other girls down the hall and toward the stairs. Merc had made himself scarce, no doubt “cleaning up” any last messes they’d left behind. Law enforcement would be along sooner or later, though if Shakespeare was as good as usual, it would be hours later. Fingers would be pointed, of course. They always were, but Doc trusted the guys to clean up enough that charges would never stick.

  As his legs gathered steam, the noise from the group still upstairs faded a little. It would take them longer, having to free some of the girls from the restraints first, then convince them to follow them out of the building. Their strong urge to escape was likely the reason they’d been handcuffed in the first place, but he couldn’t blame them for being hesitant to follow a large, tattooed man wearing leather when, to them, a very similar looking bastard had been the one to put them there in the first place.

  As he’d been leaving, Doc had heard Vlad talking quietly to a few of them. He’d likely quickly identified which were the leaders, the upstarts with fire inside them. Levi was the same himself: a quiet, unassuming man you often passed over, until you came into direct conflict. Then you rued the day you ever opened your mouth. It’s what made him such a good prez. He didn’t have to rule with anger or fear. Vlad commanded respect simply by being. He was a good man, the most private individual Doc had ever met, but a good man. Unlike the Jokers. Hopefully the girls would see the compassion, the kindness for those who needed it, in his eyes and follow him out of hell.

  Even though it was well and truly dark outside, when his feet hit the pavement, Doc squinted momentarily. It had been so pitch black inside the building that even the wan moonlight seemed like a spotlight for a few seconds until his eyes adjusted. Not much further now. Down to the corner, then across the road and into the mouth of the alley. Maybe fifty steps, if that, and he’d have both his girls safe in his arms. Lit by the moon and what few streetlights still worked, Doc hurried his pace. He frowned as he approached, his arms tightening around Emily. The man they’d appointed to keep watch over the alley was gone. He was a member of one of the other clubs sympathetic to their cause. Vlad had wanted only Kings to have their backs when it came to the final showdown, but he’d taken the help where it was offered for other tasks. Doc had been keyed up when he’d left to go inside, the adrenaline coursing through him, but he hadn’t been that juiced. There had definitely been a man there, and he’d been armed. Where the hell had he gone?

  He ran, a sudden need to get to Ava bleeding through him. He heard a shout behind him—Sticks. It didn’t slow him down. He’d left her hidden and armed. As long as she’d stayed there, she’d still be safe. She had to still be safe.

  All the breath in his body left him at once when he rounded the corner and saw her. Ava was being held, her feet nearly off the ground, as the Joker’s vice president dangled her, his meaty forearm wrapped around her chest and neck nearly tight enough to cut off airflow. The gun he’d given her lay beside her, the metal slick and shining from
drizzling rain.

  “Stop.” The voice was booming, and Doc’s feet halted in their tracks. Emily whimpered at the sound, and he pulled her close to his chest. She was tiny. Could he possibly hide her so she wouldn’t be seen?

  “Give me the girl and I’ll let you both live.” Too late. The hulking man shrugged. “You can always make another. That one is mine.”

  A deep growl sounded from deep within Doc’s chest, his lips tightening into a snarl. His body tensed, ready to strike, as he reached for the gun still tucked into the back of his pants. Could he do it? He only had a single shot, just one, and with one hand as there was no way he was letting go of his precious cargo. One was all he’d get before either Ava, Emily, or maybe both were dead. But what other choice did he have? Ava or Emily. Alone in the alley, it was an impossible choice. One that he had loved and lost and the other who he’d never known but had loved from the instant he’d laid eyes on her. Either way, he’d failed in the most complete way. He’d promised to keep them safe. It was his duty. If he couldn’t keep them both safe from harm, he didn’t deserve his own life.

  His hand twitched, and the fucker holding Ava raised his gun further. “Don’t even try it.” His lips twisted into a grotesque smile. “Of course, if you’re that attached to the spawn already, we could always swap.” He shrugged. “I get it. She’s a cute one. But so’s her mom.” He tugged Ava backward, a cry escaping from her mouth as she lost her footing entirely. “I could sell her for a pretty penny.” The man shrugged. “Course, not as much as that little darling, so you’d still owe me.” Another step backward, gun still raised. “I wonder how you could make that up.”

  Three things happened so fast that Doc could barely split the time between them. Vlad appeared beside him, grabbing ahold of Emily and then disappearing just as fast. The moment Doc’s arms were free, his hand moved toward his gun, but in the heartbeat between Emily being whisked to safety and laying his hands on his weapon, a quiet whistle passed through the air and a slight breeze brushed against his cheek. Another heartbeat, another intake of breath, and a small red hole appeared in the front of the Joker’s forehead before the back of his head exploded. The man dropped to the ground, leaving Ava trembling, breathing hard, splatted in blood, but oh so very much alive.

  Merc.

  He had to be somewhere. He was the only one Doc knew who could take a shot like that. He took one final heartbeat to look to the top of the buildings across the street and nod his head in thanks before he rushed toward Ava. Her shaking increased as he wrapped his arms around her slight frame, her breath coming in pants, great gulping breaths, as if she couldn’t get enough. He did the only thing he could. He wrapped her up entirely in his arms and rocked her, whispering quietly. “You’re safe. Emily’s safe. You’re safe. Emily’s safe.” Over and over again. It was the only thing she needed to hear.

  Seth allowed his ministrations for several long minutes before appearing next to them and speaking quietly, so quietly he doubted even Ava could hear. “We gotta split. 50/50 who’s going to get here first, cops or reinforcements.” He inclined his head toward Ava. “I’ve got your bike. Take her in the van. Padre’s driving.”

  Doc nodded, but Sticks was already gone. He was right; they had to get moving. Fast. Before any other threat to Ava and the club, law or otherwise, showed their face. He didn’t talk. Ava didn’t need explanations. That could come later, when her body had realized it was all over. Her brain may have heard the words, but he doubted she’d processed them, or even really heard what he was saying. An adrenaline dump the size of Texas would be currently coursing its way through her system, and there was nothing he could do about it. Keep her warm, keep her safe, and get her to Emily as fast as possible. That was all he could do right now. The nightmares, tears, anger, more tremors, flashbacks, that would all come later, and he’d be right by her side. This was it, for life. Right now, he had to get her home. To their home.

  Still supporting her around her shoulders, Doc bent his knees and scooped her up, cuddling her close to his chest. Ava turned her head into his neck, wafting her sweet scent toward him. Even through the sharp tang of bloody clothes and fear, the smell was heavenly. Tonight, he’d held both of the loves of his life in his arms, and that was where they were going to stay. Forever.

  He turned and quick-stepped it to the truck and climbed inside, Ava staying bundled on his lap as Padre hit the gas hard. It was done, and they were going home.

  27

  Ava

  “I’ll be fine, thank you.” Ava turned her head and smiled at Padre, who had touched her shoulder, a frown on his face. “Just, you know, memories.” The cup of tea he’d made her nearly half an hour ago was still warm in her hands, taking the last of the chill from her bones. She’d been taking some rare time out to just sit, watching Old Maggie work her magic in the clubhouse kitchen. The woman was a saint, feeding hordes of hungry bikers most nights. She’d taken to sitting in, helping where she could, though she wasn’t much of a cook herself. Just being there, surrounded, was calming. Sometimes she had Emily with her; other times she was alone. Maggie was also wonderful with her daughter. She and Chops hadn’t had any kids of their own, she’d told Ava during one of their late-night cooking sessions. Was the way God intended it, she’d said, because now she got to play mama to all these boys who needed it.

  Ava had grinned at the reference. To Maggie, they were all boys she assumed, but there was nothing boyish about Doc. The way his biceps bulged when he bent down to pick up their daughter gave her shivers every time, even though it would be hours, at least, before she could act on a single impulse. Emily’s bedtime had gone to the wind the last month or so, but Ava couldn’t bring herself to care. She and Doc had a lot of time to make up for, a lot of cuddles and tea parties and story times that needed to happen, and she was thrilled to indulge both of them. A shiver passed through her, and Ava rubbed at her arms. That dark day where she thought none of this would ever happen still haunted her. Even though all was well, she couldn’t quite shake the shadows that hunted her, hunted her daughter.

  The moment they’d gotten back to the compound, before she’d even laid eyes on her daughter, Ava had thrown up. Doc had stood up and gently maneuvered her out of the truck, and the moment her feet hit the ground, she’d lost her entire stomach’s contents and then some. Heaving over and over again even though there was only bile left. She had no idea how they’d gotten back to the club house, the entire trip passing in a bizarre blur of quiet whispers and muted fields, becoming lighter as they drove by the morning sun. But the moment her feet had hit the dust inside the gate, her body had revolted on her. There was no need to keep it together, no need to hold anything back, and Ava had lost it. Doc had held her still, rubbed her back, and twisted her hair lightly in his fist to keep it out of the way. He’d never complained or tried to get her to move, even though the position must have been as awkward as hell. Plus, he had to have been eager to get inside, both to talk to his men and decompress and to get to Emily. It had taken what felt like hours for her get her limbic system under control enough that her mind remembered her daughter. Remembered Emily.

  That was one of the many things she still couldn’t get over, how long she’d taken to get back to Emily after they’d both been rescued and arrived back at the compound. It had taken a good twenty minutes for her gut to stop revolting on her, for her hands to stop trembling enough to hold her child.

  Emily had been fine, of course, laughing like crazy while a big guy with a bandage on his arm had been making faces at her, then pulling out a penny from behind her ear. An old trick, but Emily had been delighted. Ava was never more thankful than in that moment, to see her daughter sitting there happy and smiling. She’d been watching her like a hawk ever since, sure that there had to be some kind of trauma that hadn’t revealed itself yet. Some sort of hypervigilance, she was sure, and one she was also sure hadn’t gone unnoticed by Doc, but she couldn’t help it. If her daughter had come through the ordeal with
out a scar, then Ava would be forever grateful, but she couldn’t stop watching, just in case.

  That’s what Padre had picked up on, she guessed. Maggie had gone to set up the large room at the back of the clubhouse for dinner, leaving Ava alone in the kitchen. Her foot had started to jiggle, followed by the tapping of her fingers, until Padre had appeared and wrapped her hands around a warm mug of steaming tea. Coffee at this time of night would be a supremely bad idea. She was jittery at the best of times, and her sleep disrupted enough already from nightmares. Doc held her through them, talking gently to bring her back down, just as he had that terrible night, but he had to be getting sick of it by now. It had been a month.

  But still, time passed, whether she liked it or not. And she was getting better. She was alone that afternoon because Doc and Emily had gone out, just the two of them, for a daddy–daughter day. She shouldn’t worry. The man had walked through hell to keep them both safe, and she trusted him with Emily’s life. It wasn’t even a question. But she still couldn’t stop the shakes. He’d read her like a book, insisting she spend the day at the clubhouse rather than stay home alone. For most of the day, she’d been fine, but now as darkness had begun to fall . . .

  “Mommy, mommy! There were elephants, and ’raffs, and I patted a lion!”

  Ava’s eyes widened, and the smile at hearing her daughter’s voice was lost as her mouth fell open. Surely she didn’t mean . . .

  Doc grinned, that lazy, tipped-at-the-side smile that made her heart beat faster every time she saw it. “She means the sea lions. They were pretty cute.”

  “And I rided an elephant, and a butterfly landed on me, and there were goats!”