by Addison Jane
“You think they’ll actually show?” Myth asked, pulling his hoodie up over his head to try and block the cool breeze. The night wasn’t as warm as it should have been, like maybe there was a storm rolling in.
“I get this feeling he’s the kind of guy who doesn’t like to look like a fool,” I explained, leaning back against one of the large air-conditioning units that were placed up there. “And so far, Shotgun has ignored his presence in Phoenix for three days.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle, and Myth soon joined in shaking his head. “I don’t know how he held out so long.”
“Because he knows there’s no real threat. If they’ve been here this long and haven’t stepped forward and made a run at surprising us, then they just need to take their no-balls back to wherever the fuck they came from.”
“Touché.”
As if they’d been summoned, the sounds of motorcycles cruising slowly down the street filled the air, and Myth turned, looking over his shoulder with a smirk. We got up and headed for the door that lead downstairs taking two steps at a time.
All the lights were turned off, but we knew this place like the back of our hands, so it didn’t take us long to find Shotgun and Shake sitting in the corner booth in the VIP area. “They’re here,” I announced, barely able to make out the outline of their faces. “Everyone set up?”
They both climbed out of the booth, grabbing their guns off the table. Shotgun hefted his shotgun onto his shoulder, and as my eyes began to adjust to the darkness, I could see the smile grow on my president’s face. “You put out a piece of cheese, and the mice come running.”
“I hate mice,” I growled as we headed toward the edge of the VIP area.
Shake chuckled. “Good, you’re in charge of exterminating any who try to get away.”
The VIP area was like a balcony built inside which overlooked the main floor where these assholes were no doubt going to appear. Auron was already standing at the edge with his rifle waiting. If need be, he could stand up there and pick them off one by fucking one, probably within a few seconds. From up there, he had the advantage, but there were also more men downstairs. A handful of the Exiled Eight boys were here tonight picking up some parts for Huntsman, so we had almost double the amount of men Red Riot was coming in with.
They didn’t stand a chance, and they were about to be fucking humiliated. I still wasn’t sure what Shotgun had planned. He seemed pretty amused by the entire situation. He didn’t see the club as a threat to us. Which meant he was probably going to let them know where things stood.
This was a warning.
We already killed two of their men.
We already took their shit.
Did they want us to bend them over and fuck them in the ass too, or were they ready to walk away and respect us enough to know they shouldn’t fucking come back? I wasn’t entirely sure give how stupid they sounded.
We couldn’t hear the bikes from inside, so we had to sit and wait, but it wasn’t long before there was a large crash that I was pretty sure was the heavy bolted rear doors.
“Someone keep a fucking tally of shit they break,” Shake whispered in annoyance. “I’m gonna fucking bill these bastards.”
The destruction of the doors was quickly followed by the sound of voices. They were cheery, upbeat, and there was even laughter as they stomped through the building. If only they knew.
“Hey, boss! Can we get the lights going in here, have our own little party?” one of them chortled as he stepped out into the club area. I could make him out just barely, his body lit up as he passed underneath the glowing exit light. One by one they stepped inside the room.
Eight club members, and as I counted nine and ten, I realized two club girls. “They brought the girls with them,” I whispered to no one in particular. “Be careful of them.”
“Sounds like you and this girl had more than just a conversation. Since when are you Mister Caring?” Shotgun challenged, but I knew it was more curiosity and poking fun than anything.
“They beat her,” I growled under my breath, my agitation growing as the dumbasses started kicking over tables and chairs like they were fucking teenagers trying to prove how cool they were to their friends.
“Lights,” Shake ordered into a walkie-talkie.
Less than two seconds and one by one the large lights above us clicked on. The Red Riot members blinked, throwing their heads from side to side questioning what the hell was happening.
“Don’t fucking move,” Shotgun ordered, his loud voice booming in the vast empty space.
Men leaped up from behind the bar, weapons drawn, the distinct click of safeties being taken off echoed around the room, one after another.
More men stepped out from behind the stairs, from the DJ booth, from other hidden spots that only members of one of our clubs would know and be familiar with.
Red Riot didn’t know what the fuck to do. Unfortunately, they were as stupid as we thought they were.
A couple of their hands drifted, moving toward their guns. “Auron,” Shotgun ordered.
The shot came fast and clear, the bang bouncing off the walls sounding like it had come from a million different directions.
But it was quickly overpowered by a man falling to his knees, screaming. “My fucking finger,” he hollered, holding his hand, blood seeping through his fingers. He looked up at us. His face was beet red—with anger or with pain I wasn’t quite sure, but it was rather comical. “You took my fucking finger.”
Shotgun chuckled. “That was a warning shot to the rest of you bastards. Don’t. Fucking. Move. Auron’s a mean shot, and next time I’ll tell him to aim for your fucking dick.” He stepped back and nodded at us to follow him downstairs.
It was like the air stayed still as we walked down to meet them.
My eyes instantly found Kennedy. She had her arms wrapped around herself and was cuddled close to another girl. They stood back, right by the bar, eyes open and watching everything that was going on. As I walked forward, she snapped her head around, instantly finding me like a magnet pulled with force.
She was scared.
Petrified.
But when she saw me, it was as if she stood a little straighter, held her shoulders back a little more. It was as if my strength was moving between us. It was as if she knew things would be okay.
“I guess I’ll do the introductions,” Shotgun started, his gun resting casually over his shoulder. “Name’s Shotgun, Brothers by Blood, Phoenix MC President.”
The guy who had been yelling at Kennedy at the bar a few days ago stepped forward. He was slimy looking. His dark hair was greased back, he had a slight mustache which simply made me want to punch him in his fucking mouth. His eyes were big and bulging, reminding me of fish eyes, making me instantly feel squeamish because it was almost the opposite to the way his face was sunken and gaunt. “I’m Crow, Red Riot MC President.”
“Crow as in the bird?” Shake asked with a smirk.
“Crow as in the bar,” he snapped back, baring his teeth a little.
I could see all our boys trying to keep their laughter contained.
“Well, Crow, as in the bar,” Shotgun continued with a shrug. “Are you lost? Because you seem to be in our nightclub? Well, you seem to be in our city, just loitering about, so I thought it was about time we had a chat.”
Crow pursed his lips, but I saw the way his eyes drifted over his shoulder to where Kennedy was standing. It was only a second, but it was obvious to me he was going to blame Kennedy for making him look like a fucking pansy ass. I wasn’t about to let him get away with it, though.
I stepped forward, drawing my gun out and pointing it directly at him. “Don’t fucking look at her, you look at us,” I snapped, instantly drawing his attention back to me. “You wanna pussyfoot around the issue? Fine. We’ll fucking break it down for you.”
The eight Red Riot MC members in the room had a range of expressions on their faces. They started at ‘I’m so scared, I just shit my
self,’ and ended somewhere around ‘I’m gonna plaster on an angry face, so these guys don’t know that I’m so scared I just shit myself.’
“Firstly, you try and run your shit through our city. Then you bring your dumbasses down here and hang out at a bar less than ten minutes from our clubhouse…” Shake began to explain as he paced across the room and he started to laugh, “… just to let us know that you were here and you were upset, but that you were too chickenshit to come knock on our fucking door. Passive aggressive bikers, who fucking knew. You gonna post an angry status on Facebook, too?”
I tried to keep my eyes focused on Crow, but they continually drifted to the side where Kennedy and another girl were holding hands tightly and trying to act like they weren’t fucking petrified. They were doing a better job of it than the men in the room.
“You took my shipment and killed two of my men,” Crow finally argued, like anything he fucking said at this stage was a valid reason to be a fucking douche bag.
“Were you even listening?” I asked, rolling my eyes. “You don’t roll your shit through our backyard and expect not to pay any fucking tax.”
Crow growled like a dog, baring his teeth. “What you took is payment enough,” he argued, his hands forming fists at his sides. It was obvious this asshole had a problem controlling his temper, which made the purple and yellow splotches up and down Kennedy’s arms basically explain themselves. “You took my shipment. I’m two men short, and now I have to drive my supplies up through a whole new state which is gonna cost me more money.”
“Does this face look bothered?” Shotgun asked with a grin.
Crow wasn’t amused. “We done here?”
The smile immediately dropped from my president’s face. “Are we done here?” he echoed with a harsh edge to his tone. “Listen, fucker, we’re done when I say we’re done. I don’t have to let you fucking go anywhere. The only reason I’m considering it is because it’s more fun for me to let you walk looking like a little fucking bitch than it is for me to have to clean up the amount of blood that you motherfuckers would leave all over my floor.”
Shotgun seemed relaxed. He came across as a guy who was chill and understanding, but he wasn’t a fucking pushover. He was just as lethal, just as fucking savage, as the next outlaw president. But just like any of us, it came out when someone threatened our club, the club’s name, or someone we fucking cared about.
“Actually, I changed my mind,” he added. Using his free hand to draw his handgun from the back of his pants, he aimed it at the nearest Red Riot member, pulling the trigger again and again and again. The girl’s screams lasted a little longer than the gunshots, and the sound of the guy’s body hitting the floor came soon after. “That was for being a dumb motherfucker and asking if we were done.”
Crow glared at Shotgun but didn’t open his fucking mouth again.
“Now we’re fucking done,” Shotgun snapped.
I caught sight of Kennedy again out of the corner of my eye. She was fucking beautiful, too beautiful to be a willing part of this fucking shit-show. I knew they must have had something over her. No woman with her kind of tenacity and intelligence was fucking these guys for fun.
Especially not when they were leaving those kinds of scars on her legs. I couldn’t just let her walk away with them.
“Not done,” I interrupted, looking over my shoulder at Shotgun. He raised his brow in question, but it was quickly followed by a shrug. He trusted me, trusted that I knew what I was doing. Which could have been a mistake because I really fucking didn’t. I turned back to face Crow, looking him directly in the eye as I pointed across the room. “I’ll have her, too.”
Kennedy didn’t make a sound, but out of the corner of my eye I saw her body jump like it’d been shocked.
Crow held my gaze, the muscle in his jaw moving as he clenched it tightly. He didn’t even have to look to know who I was pointing at. “You can’t have her. She’s mine.”
“Oh really?” I asked with a soft chuckle. “She your old lady?”
He wanted to hit me. “No.”
“She your sister? Your momma? She any other kind of relation that would constitute her belonging to you? Because as far as I can tell, she’s a fucking club girl which means she don’t belong to any of you dumb motherfuckers.”
He lurched forward, but I was quicker, pressing my gun right against his forehead and applying a generous amount of pressure, forcing him back at least three steps.
He was fighting it.
There was something important about her.
It wasn’t that he gave a shit about her, though. No. He wasn’t angry at the idea of me taking away the woman he was secretly in love with. He needed her for some reason, and that made me want her even fucking more.
“She belongs to the club,” he managed to finally forced out between clenched teeth.
I stepped in, pressing my gun even fucking harder against his head. “And now, she belongs to me. It’s my birthday in a couple weeks. We’ll call it an early present,” I whispered before standing a little straighter, my smile growing wide. “For me? Oh, you shouldn’t have.”
His eyes flicked to where I knew Shotgun was watching with a curious smirk. He had no idea why I wanted Kennedy, he didn’t have a clue about the moments we’d met before. But he was my brother, and I knew that when it came down to the line, he’d let me cross it if I had to and he’d be right there behind me, backing me all the way.
“You gonna just let one of your men overrule you like this?” Crow taunted my club president.
Shotgun huffed out an amused breath. “My men have the ability to think for themselves,” Shotgun answered, patting me on the back. “Repo here got his name for a reason. He sees something he wants, he takes it. And my advice to you would be to get out of the fucking way and let him have it.”
“Kennedy, come here,” I ordered, noting the way she narrowed her eyes at me, holding my gaze for a few hard moments before she walked toward me. She had more fucking balls than half these men.
Crow watched her, his eyes full of dark promises and bullshit that I instantly wanted to beat from his face. He saw this as a betrayal.
Well, fuck him.
“Okay, I’m done,” I said as she stepped in behind me, and I knew that he wasn’t getting to her.
“Cool,” Shotgun acknowledged before turning to Crow. “Now get the fuck out, and take this mess with you.” He nodded toward the body on the floor which was now going to need a heavy scrub with some kind of bleach before we opened the club again tomorrow night—or tonight, I guess.
A couple of guys grabbed the body, and Crow didn’t say a fucking word as he and his bum buddies scurried from the club with their tales between their fucking legs.
I knew this wasn’t over, though. The way he looked at Kennedy, there was something important about her, and I was going to fucking find out what it was.
She was better than that bullshit.
She deserved better.
Was better me?
I had no fucking idea. I wasn’t sure I could give her what she needed. But I was going to make sure she never had to worry about anyone putting a fucking finger on her again.
That was for fucking sure.
KENNEDY
The door closed behind Crow and the boys, and within seconds, I was running for the exit.
A large body slipped in between my escape and me, their arms wrapping around me and lifting me off my feet. “Let me go,” I screamed, wiggling and fighting against them. My heart was racing, and I was beginning to have a panic attack. “You don’t understand what he’s gonna do.”
My brain was already swirling and flashing through all the possible situations that could happen after this. Me being stuck owing another debt to different MC. Losing another piece of myself that I was struggling to hold onto.
But worst of all, I could already see in my mind Crow sending someone to get Brooklyn and using her to repay what I owed them. My chest felt like it was going to ex
plode, it was beating so fast it was stealing my breath, and I was struggling to keep my head. Brook was all I had left. She was the reason I put myself through this. She was the reason I settled for this fucking life in the first place so she’d never have to, and now he was going to take her. I kept shaking my head, fighting to get my thoughts together and figure out what the actual fuck I was going to do. I kicked my legs and threw my body from side to side, but whoever had a hold of me was too strong.
“Fucking hell!” They coughed, obviously struggling too.
“Put her down, Myth,” Repo roared and instantly I was released, my feet hitting the floor unsteadily. I stumbled back before swinging my body around to find the man who had effectively just bought me, stomping toward me across the dance floor.
“You have no fucking idea what you’ve just done,” I started, my voice hitching. I kept shaking my head, fighting to get my thoughts together and figure out what the actual fuck I was going to do.
“Then how about you tell me so I can fucking help,” he demanded, reaching out for me.
I yanked my arm away, trying to hold my head high and not let him see just how fucking scared I was in that moment, but I couldn’t stop the tears that streamed down my cheeks, betraying me. “I owe him a debt, and if I’m not there to pay it, he’s going to want to get it from someone else. And that someone else is my little sister.”
“Fuck!” Repo cursed under his breath and rolled his shoulders, his eyes starting to search the room.
“You need to let me go,” I demanded, taking a couple of hesitant steps forward and looking up into his eyes. My hands reached out, but I reminded myself to pull back, my fingertips just barely brushing the outside of his leathers. His body tensed, his hands forming fists and the veins in his arm becoming more prominent the closer I got to his skin. “Repo, please. You think you’re helping me, but if I’m not there, they’re gonna hurt her, and I’ve spent the last five fucking years taking whatever fucking shit those assholes would throw at me just so I knew she would be safe.”
