by Evelyn Glass
“Stop it!” Kitka appears in between us, pushing herself against Cobra. The hem of the flannel shirt she’s wearing flies in my face, but I can see her with her arms outstretched. He doesn’t have time to stop himself before she drops to the floor. He backs away as quickly as he had hit her, cursing at himself for his mistake.
“Kitka? Are you okay?” I kneel beside her as she holds her swelling cheek. She took a hit way worse than mine. No doubt that would have knocked a girl like me out. But she manages to make it through with a bloody lip. “Come on…” I offer her my shoulder.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Cobra asks, his voice shaking. No doubt he’s realizing what a huge ass mistake he’s made. “I’m not through with you—or you, Kitty!”
Neither of us says a word. We pass him by, huddled together in one another’s arms. I didn’t think Kitka and I would ever connect like this, but necessity and danger have brought us together in some strange ways. I oddly feel good to have her long, lean arms draped around me, and me holding her tight as we head towards my bedroom. I use my foot to kick close the bedroom door and turn the small lock. It’s not much. It’s not going to keep us safe if he wants to come for more, but there’s comfort in hearing that little click.
Kitka falls onto the bed, holding her head with one hand. I sit next to her. My voice is hoarse as I try to squeak out, “Thanks for that. You didn’t have—”
“Do you ever shut up?” She sighs. Under her hand, a few tears stream down her skin, towards her hair and ears.
“You didn’t have to,” I finish, “and I’m so sorry he did that to you. Has he…?” It isn’t uncommon for girls like us to get roughed up here and there. Killer had a rule against it, but some of the chicks, at least the ones that didn’t stay for long, aren’t brave enough to rat out a guy when he smacked her around, or worse. It’s only when things like this happen, when there are witnesses, that boys like Cobra get reported.
“Does it matter?” she asks me, still averting her eyes. “We need to get the fuck out of here.”
“Yeah, but Cobra’s not going to leave, is he?”
“There’s an event tonight—some race down at the stockyards. He’s not gonna miss that. I know it. We can make a run for it then.”
“But where the hell are we going to go?”
“Killer’s. We can lay low there. I’ve got a key,” she whispers.
“You’ve got a key? How did you—”
“Seriously. You ask too many questions. That is what’s wrong with you. I’m giving you a lifeline—trying to save that kid’s life.”
“I know. I know.” I shake my head. “I’m sorry. You can’t blame me for not trusting you. You did tell Bear where I was.”
“After someone spotted you. I figured the damage was already done.”
“Yeah, but it started all this shit. Bear wouldn’t have—”
“Really?” She scoffs. “Don’t tell me that you didn’t want him there. I could see it in your eyes. This whole last six or seven or whatever months—it’s been all about Bear. I was doing you a goddamn favor.”
“You were getting me killed.”
“You wanted it!” she exclaims as quietly as she can. “You want him! So here’s your chance.”
“Not if Cobra kills him. He challenged him to a knife fight, Kitka. If Bear wins, I get to walk off with him, but then I betray the club—my family. And if Bear loses, who the fuck knows what’s going to happen to me. Cobra won’t play along anymore. I’ll be banished with no protection.”
“Then you best hope he doesn’t lose.”
“Cobra’s a loose cannon. He could—”
“I’ve seen Bear fight, Sunny. I’ve seen him fight for you. He may lose, but he won’t go down without a good fight. And if he survives, he won’t stop coming for you.”
“So, then what? That’s even worse. I’ll be banished, club property, and have Bear on the hunt again.”
“You go with him,” she replies quickly. “No matter the outcome, you go to him.”
“That’s… that’s not going to happen.”
“Stop it!” She holds her face in pain. “This is your out—your chance to get everything you want. Stop thinking about the club or being someone’s property. We’re no man’s property! We may wear the brand and ride with these boys, but when they treat us like this, they get all the hell we can unleash on them. If you think Bear is going to be your man and keep you safe from this shit, you don’t miss out on that. You don’t back down.”
My heart races as I listen to her. She’s right. Bear is worth it. He’s worth running away with and never looking back. The fight is in three days, and there’s time for so much to happen. I look towards Kitka, her face full of pain and regret, and all I can think to ask is, “What about you? What happens to you?”
“Me? I’m like a goddamn cockroach. I’ll survive this shit like I always do. There’s a reason I’ve got Killer’s key—he gave it to me. Cobra knows too. It makes his blood boil that after all these fucking years, Killer’s looking my way. Probably because you’re knocked up and untouchable, but I don’t care. I’m going to get what’s mine and be the fucking queen around here.”
“Are you sure you want that?” I ask.
“It’s everything I’ve wanted and more.”
“What about Cobra?” I say as I look towards the locked door. Outside, we can hear him throwing shit, probably a lamp or some other furniture not nailed down to the floor. His rage should be terrifying me, but with Kitka in the room, I feel safe. We’re together, and we’ve got a plan cooking.
“He’ll get what’s coming to him.” She smiles, her face wincing from the spot where he hit her. “It’s going to come sooner than he thinks. And I’m going to be in the first row for it.”
I lay down next to her as we hash out the details of our escape.
Chapter Fourteen
Bear
I’ve been waiting three days for this fight. So that means that for three days, I haven’t slept, haven’t eaten, haven’t thought of anything else. My mind has been one hundred percent focused on the fight—and on Sunny. I could hear her screaming at me to call it off with every practice swipe I took and tasted her lips on mine whenever I wiped off a bit of sweat that dripped from my forehead. She followed me around the ring the boys set up in the warehouse and stayed with me as I slept next to the blade I planned on using during the battle against Cobra.
I’ve killed myself over these last three days, training as hard as I possibly can. I made myself the old Bear, the Bear that earned his name. It was a short transformation, but my boys could feel it. They look at me differently now. And they sure as shit don’t treat me like a second-class citizen. I have my power back, and no one on God’s green Earth is going to take it back from me.
Frankly, I am surprised how much my club is behind me on this. Jack had spread the news about Sunny’s pregnancy around like the plague. It was all any of the guys were talking about for days. I wasn’t sure how they’d take it, but they seemed to want to stand by me and follow Vance’s supportive lead on this. Some of the boys offered to get in the ring with me and be my sparring partner. Others brought me food to tie me over and protein bars to keep me strong. Some of the older guys brought beer and cigarettes—none which I took. I wasn’t about to let my vices get in the way of my mind or my body being in top shape.
They were the reason why these three days went by quickly. The ticking of the clock seemed much lighter in my ears with them watching me, giving me pointers, shaking my hand every time they passed me on my runs around the block. The Wilderkind are my family, my brothers for life. And I know that when I get out there, out on that cheap ass platform they made into a fighting ring, down by the overpass where the Wilderkind and Filthy Bastards’ territory meets, they will have my back every second of the way. And if I lose, they will be the ones burying me in the yard with all my other brothers who’ve fallen in the name of the club.
“You feeling good, brot
her?” Jack asks me, throwing me a towel from across the room. I must look like a fucking sweaty mess after that three-mile run, but I remember my coach from my boxing days telling me that getting miles in before a big match was the only way you could get the real nerves out. He was a lying sack of shit. Nothing but me sweating off the few bites of food I could stomach has happened to me. If anything, I feel worse—like my insides are about to explode from the pressure I’ve put on myself.
“Yeah,” I lie. “How much more time I got until I have to ride down there?”
“Probably about twenty minutes, maybe more.”
“Anyone at the club spot her yet? Sunny, I mean. I’m not going down there unless she’s there. I don’t trust that fucking snake to keep his word about this.”
Since meeting up with Sunny at her doctor’s, I’ve been having my boys keep an eye out for her, making sure Cobra doesn’t pull anything on her. I wouldn’t put it past him to try to off her minutes before the fight just to spite me. He was a sick fuck like that—never had any boundaries. And if that kid weren’t his, if he knew that Sunny was mine all along, he wouldn’t have anything to hold him back from taking matters into his own hands.
“No. No sightings of her. I checked in with Paulo and Rider. They’re checking the girls in now. There are some that are sitting up in that overpass. It’s where most of the Filthy Bastards girls go to watch the matches. She’s probably up there.”
“Yeah. She best be. The last time we saw a hair of her was when Ace got a glimpse of her through a bedroom window at Cobra’s place. And even then, who the hell knows if it was her.”
That alone scared the shit out of me. My girl and my baby were being held hostage by some sadistic motherfucker who couldn’t give a rat’s ass whether they lived or died. I could have white knighted it and gone and rescued her before this match even began, but I know the rules in these parts. Breaking into club territory, killing an innocent (even though there was nothing truly innocent about Cobra), and stealing club property would have resulted in World War III. As much as it kills me not to have done it, I don’t want more blood on my hands. I instead channeled all that energy into my workouts and spars until my hands ached and my muscles groaned and pulsed.
“Keep checking. I’m not leaving until she’s there, and I can talk to her.”
“Talk to her?” Jake asks. “You really think that Killer and Cobra are going to let you do that?”
“I don’t give a shit what they will let me do. This fight isn’t going to happen unless I can talk to her and make sure they didn’t do something to her over the last few days. If they have a problem with it, tell them it’s like flashing the cash prize. I’m not walking in that ring until I know it’s real and there.”
“They’ll do it.” Vance suddenly appears. He looks a little worse for wear with his baggy cargo pants and his messed up gray hair flying in every direction. Even his beard looks disheveled. He reaches out his hand to me, enveloping me in one of our club handshakes. “You feeling okay?” he asks when he pulls back.
“Yeah,” I try to say confidently. “I’m feeling fine. It’s the Filthy Bastards that have to worry about what’s about to go down.”
I watch as he chews the corner of his lip, shaking his head in cool agreement, before saying, “The girl’s gonna be there. And then we’ve got a plan to get the two of you out in case shit starts. We’re working with a few clubs on this, people Killer and Cobra have made mad over the last few weeks. If they go back on their deal, they’ll get what’s coming to them.”
“And Sunny? What about her? Can you convince the guys to let me see her before the fight?”
His already rough voice strains slightly. “If that’s what you need. You’ll get it.” He walks out the door and moments later, out front of the headquarters, I hear his bike race off, probably towards the meeting spot, and the room returns to this still, mind numbing silence from before. Only Jake’s rhythmic paces can be heard.
I go back to sparring in the ring. I’m going through routine after routine. Everything I’ve ever learned courses through me. Patterns and figures, combinations and plays… each one I nail in rhythm with my feet. My knife jabs and darts through the air as I picture that beady-eyed fucker standing before me with that cocky grin on his shit face. And in the imaginary crowd, just behind his boxy shoulder, is Sunny. She’s glowing and starry-eyed. Her smile lights up the damn sky with that hair that cascades down her shoulders. She smiles as I nail imaginary Cobra in the imaginary arm and then slice through his imaginary bare chest. He tumbles over, and I dart towards the side, missing his imaginary knockout fall. In my ears, I hear her calling my name, crying out for me… “Bear… Bear… Bear…”
“BEAR?” Jake calls to me from outside the ring. “It’s Vance. She’s there. He wants you to get over there. You ready?”
“She okay?” I ask, my breath still catching up in my throat.
He pauses as he waits for Vance to respond. “He says she’s there. That’s all he knows. They’ll let you talk to her if you get there on time.”
Fucking hell. I jump off the makeshift ring and out towards the parking lot. Jake takes over locking up the place and grabbing my gear. But all I really need is my knife and the Wilderkind T-shirt on my back. The drive is only fifteen minutes, but I’m stopped at every damn stop light and seem to have every copper tailing my ass from HQ to the turn off. They barely phase me today as I set my sights on the bridge and the line of bikes parked along the hedges. No doubt the cops were paid off already and told there was going to be a rumble. They won’t bat an eye if there’s money to be had from it.
The closer I get, the louder the sound of the crowd gets. The excitement is bubbling over like a pot on the stove. I know that just about every eye is on me as I pull into the nearest spot to the ring. They gawk at me as I get off the saddle and stride towards Vance. He waits for me with his arms clasped tightly around his chest. He gives my fighting clothes the once over, and I can’t tell if he’s amused or relieved I’ve come to play like the professional I am.
“You’re late.”
“I’m not,” I correct him. “I’m here before the match is supposed to start.”
“By about three minutes.”
“That’s all I need. Where is she?”
“That’s the problem, Bear.”
He gestures behind my shoulder, and I spin on my toes to see Cobra and Killer inches from my face. Cobra is in his full riding gear—dark, tight jeans, leather jacket, bandana in Filthy Bastard’s colors. He laughs as he smacks Killer on the back. “Ha! You think we’re gonna let you see her? She’s with her own.”
“I want to see and talk to her,” I demand. “If you fucking assholes can’t let me make sure she’s okay and you didn’t pull some sick shit on her the last few days, then this deal is off. I’m out of here, and I’m taking her with me.”
Cobra steps up to me, pressing his burly chest into mine. “I’d like to see you fucking try.”
“Watch me.” I push through him, causing him to stumble backward into Killer. I charge up towards the hill where I remember Jake mentioning they were. That’s where I first saw her almost a year ago now—her blonde hair shining like a beacon among all the other girls in their black and white dresses. But scanning the group, I don’t see her. There’s no one like her there.
I turn back to the men, my face red with fury. “What the fuck did you do to her?” I shout.
“We did nothing to her,” Killer calmly explains. “She’s watching from one of the cars, so we know you’re not going to try anything funny.”
“Show me,” I insist. “Show me where she is. Let me talk to her.”
“Sure—if you win,” Killer answers. “You can take her. That’s the deal.”
“He’s not taking broken goods, Killer.” Vance steps in. I’ve been waiting for him to grow some balls and defend his fighter. “We don’t get to check on her, then there’s no fight. I’ll call it off right now and let the men decide who to bla
me.”
Cobra stands there with his freakish grin while Killer mulls it over. He whispers something over to his right-hand-man and then replies, “Five minutes. That’s it. Our guys will be outside the car.”
“Ours will too,” Vance retorts before turning to our VP and the head enforcer. They call out to a few of our boys who look to be the soberest and willing. Cobra walks back to his crowd while Killer leads the way over to a line of parked cars nearest the ring. I spot the van with the three bikers guarding it. It’s all too obvious they’re on alert. They stiffen in their boots when they see Killer, Vance, and I approach.
“Open the doors. He’s got five minutes in there with her. Then get him out of there.”
“Make it quick,” Vance whispers in my ear. “Don’t pull anything stupid. Save it for the ring.”
