Battle Hearts

by Nina Levine

  “Well, all I can say is I hope things change soon, because I’m concerned you’re losing the man you married.”

  Winter is not the man I married. I’ve lost parts of him over the years as he lost more than anyone should lose in their lifetime. There are pieces of him still in there, but life stole some pieces it shouldn’t have. Mum doesn’t often get a glimpse into any of this because, like she said, she hardly sees him anymore. And I don’t often discuss him with her. Not in this way. She wouldn’t understand because she doesn’t understand club life. She hears about our fertility battles and my work issues, and random life stuff, but anything to do with the club is kept between Lily and me. She’s my go-to person when I need to get that stuff off my chest.

  “Please don’t bring any of this up with him. I just want us to have a nice Christmas together,” I say.

  She watches me silently for a few moments before nodding her agreement. Thankfully, she lets the subject go. “Speaking of which, what time do you think you’ll be back from your lunch at Lily’s? I’m trying to co-ordinate everyone for dinner tonight and I thought it might be nice for us to get together earlier so we can really catch up.”

  “How about four o’clock? I don’t think Winter wants to stay too long at this lunch.” Lily and King are hosting Christmas lunch at their place.

  “Can you go and check that time with him so I can confirm it for Lucas and Carey?”

  I agree and head into the guest bedroom Winter and I are staying in. I find him in the bathroom standing under the shower with both hands pressed to the tiles and his head bowed. I can’t see his face, but I don’t need to in order to know he’s not in a good place. That information is written all over his body.

  This year has been the hardest one we’ve ever lived through together. And that’s saying something because the last eight have been hard. Through it all, we’ve stayed strong, but I’ve recently admitted to myself that I think we may need some help with what we’re going through now. I’m beginning to think there might be a limit for a couple with what they can cope with, and I think maybe we’ve reached that limit. I’m worried if we don’t seek help, we might slowly unravel, and that’s not a place I ever want to get to.

  “Hey,” I say, not wanting to intrude on his quiet time but also wanting nothing more than to get in the shower with him and wrap my arms around him. To soothe him. To help him move through the pain he’s feeling.

  He doesn’t move except to swing his head to the side and look at me. The torment in his eyes hits me in the chest and I feel it too. God, how I feel it.

  We’re drowning here.

  I can’t not be with him, so I pull my clothes off and open the shower door to join him. Placing my hand to his back, I move against him, sliding my body around his so I’m in between him and the shower wall. Winter has packed on a lot of muscle in the last twelve months while pushing himself to get as strong as he can. I think it’s been his way of dealing with not only his club battle but also with our personal battle. When I’m this close to him, I feel tiny, and whenever his arms circle me, I feel so damn safe that I don’t ever want to be anywhere but in his arms. This time, though, his arms don’t come around me. He keeps his hands to the tiles either side of my body and stares down at me, not uttering a word.

  “Is it Max?” I ask softly.

  His eyes search mine before he pushes off from the tiles. Water from the shower cascades over him and he reaches for the showerhead to redirect it away from him. “Yeah. And the club.” Reaching for me, he adds, “And us. Fuck.”

  The jagged tone of his voice nearly breaks me. Nearly. But I hold my shit together. For him. “Do you want to talk about it?” Winter’s not a big talker. Not about his shit, anyway. He loves to get me to talk when I’m going through stuff, but when it comes to him, he shuts down and tries to process his pain alone. I’ve learned over the years not to force him into talking because it never ends well for us when I do that.

  He cups the back of my head and pulls my mouth to his. “No.”

  His lips claim mine at the same time his hands reach for my ass. When he lifts me, I wrap my arms and legs around him, grateful that we have each other. Grateful that no matter what we’ve gone through, we’ve clung to our love.

  We lose ourselves in this kiss. After weeks apart, we reunited last night with the kind of sex that staying at your mother’s house allows for. It wasn’t bad sex, but it wasn’t what we’re used to, and God how I’m missing some hot, rough sex with my husband.

  “Fuck,” he rasps, coming up for air.

  Breathless, I grip his face and pull his mouth back to mine. “Don’t fucking stop.”

  Our kiss grows demanding. Urgent. Frantic.

  Our bodies are pressed so hard together we could almost be one.

  Our need is frenzied.

  “Christ, Birdie.” Winter lets go of me so he can drop to his knees. Hooking one of my legs over his shoulder, he brings his mouth to my pussy and runs his tongue along it while rubbing his thumb over my clit.

  I cry out with pleasure, not even caring if my mother can hear me. I can’t censor myself any longer. Gripping his hair, I push the back of his head to keep his face against my pussy. I need more from his tongue. From his beard. From his fingers.

  “Oh fuck,” I almost scream when he alternates between his tongue inside me and his fingers. And when he works me deep inside with those fingers while running his tongue over and over my clit, I completely abandon myself to the pleasure.

  “Oh God, oh God.” It becomes a chant.

  I squeeze his hair.

  I press myself harder against his face.

  I pant through my building orgasm.

  “Fuck!” This time it’s a scream as I shatter. Every nerve ending is lit from the bliss Winter has delivered.

  He unhooks my leg from his shoulder and stands. Wiping my cum from his beard, he growls, “We’re going back to me doing that every morning. Life’s too fucking short not to taste you every day.”

  I frantically grab for him, needing him inside me. “Can we discuss this after you fuck me?”

  Taking hold of my arms, he stops me and crushes his body to mine. The look in his eyes tells me he has something important to say so I give him the space to say it. “I know I’ve been distracted and distant for a while now, angel, and I’m sorry. This shit going on… it’s fucked up and I’ve allowed it to come between us. I won’t do that anymore.”

  My heart hurts for him. He thinks this is all on him? It’s not. “You’re not the only one who’s allowed distance to build, Winter. We’re both hurting. We both did this.”

  He works his jaw, determination clear in his eyes. “However it happened, it stops now. You come first, every fucking day from here on out.”

  I want to tell him that what we need is a whole lot more than sex every day, but I don’t want to ruin this moment. Baby steps. We can start with this and build from here. Today, though, we just need to be close and start connecting again.

  “I love you and I’ll never stop loving you.” I kiss him, long and slow. “And now what I really want is for you to fuck me and not hold back.”

  He doesn’t need any further encouragement. Spinning me around, he takes hold of my hips and thrusts inside me. Hard. Exactly how I want it.

  When we’re finished, he kisses me one last time and says with force, “I love you. Never forget that.”

  “I never will. And I’ll never allow anything to break us apart.”

  His chest rises and falls, and it’s like a load is lifted off his shoulders. “Thank fuck.”

  I don’t know what’s running through his head, but after this, I’m more determined for us to get some counselling. My man is hard as nails, but a man can only take so many knocks, and Winter has taken more than his fair share. We’ve each been engrossed in our own pain the last few months; it’s time we shared it again and getting counselling will hopefully help us do that.

  39

  Winter

  *
* *

  “The number one thing for tonight to go down as planned, without any complications we don’t need,” I say to the men assembled in front of me, “is for us all to get in and get out as fast as possible. That means”—I look around at everyone—“we don’t prolong anyone’s death even though that’s what we all want to do. We shoot to kill; we don’t shoot to torture.”

  These are the hardest fucking words out of my mouth, because I want to torture the motherfucker who tried to ruin my club. I want to beat him black and blue. Carve his body up. Drain the fucking blood from his veins. But I’ve gone over the plan with Axe and Zane a hundred times, and we don’t have time for that. Not when our plan is as elaborate as it is.

  Tonight, we’re taking down Zenith and Silver Hell in multiple locations. We have men in Brisbane, Sydney, and Melbourne ready to attack. King will lead a team to take out the Silver Hell compound in Melbourne. Hyde will do the same in Sydney; Cole in Brisbane. Ransom and I will lead teams to take out both Zenith locations in Brisbane. It will all happen simultaneously; directed by Axe and Zane from their headquarters in Brisbane, which is where I am now.

  Zane steps next to me, his features hard. He’s worked around the clock helping King, Axe, and me put this plan together, and I know it weighs heavily on him. If even just one part of tonight goes wrong, it could set off a chain of events we don’t want to have to deal with. We do have back-up plans if that happens, but we’re all working to ensure they aren’t needed.

  Lifting his chin at the group, Zane says, “You’ve got your instructions. Read them closely and read them well. Axe has already detailed them for you, but if you have any questions, ask. No one needs to die tonight because someone didn’t ask a question.”

  The door at the back of the room opens, and a guy I don’t know enters. He comes our way, stopping next to Cole and speaking into his ear. Cole catches my eye and indicates for me to join them.

  “This is Blade,” he introduces us.

  His brother.

  The guy who supplied us with thirty men in Brisbane so we could send some of Cole’s guys south to help King and Hyde.

  I meet Blade’s gaze. “Thanks for your help on this. I appreciate it.”

  Blade nods. “If anything goes wrong, and you need more men, I have more ready to go.”

  I don’t know what the fuck this guy does, but his resources impress me. “Good to know.”

  Ransom joins us, holding his phone out to me. “King couldn’t get hold of you on your phone.”

  I take the phone and place it to my ear. “King.”

  “A piece of the fucking puzzle just fell into place.”

  “Fuck.” I check my watch. “We have less than five minutes till we leave. This can’t wait?”

  “No, it fucking can’t. Bourne’s brother used to run our Adelaide club.”

  Fuck.

  No wonder he wants King dead. King killed his brother when he tried to kill Scott Cole’s old lady.

  “I’ll let Cole know,” I say.

  “Yeah, and tell Bourne hi from me. Tell him we’ll dance when I get to hell.”

  The line goes dead and I pass Ransom his phone. Looking at Cole, I pass on King’s information.

  Before he can respond, Zane bellows, “It’s time. The vans are parked downstairs, loaded and ready to go.”

  I follow everyone out to the vans and jump in the one I’ve been assigned to. The first part of this mission is to kill the leaders of Zenith and Silver Hell in each city. I’m heading with a team of ten to Zenith’s main warehouse. This is the location Torres gave us, and after staking it out before Christmas, we know Bourne both lives and works there.

  We travel in silence, each turning inward to prepare for the battle ahead. When we arrive, I signal for everyone to take his place as directed by Axe and Zane. This location has a high wire fence, so we’ll cut a hole in it at the back of the property and enter through that.

  It doesn’t take us long to cut the hole. Nash holds it open for everyone to crawl through, at which point, we carefully make our way through the trees to the back door. We’re each wearing a comms headset that’s connected to Axe and Zane in the surveillance room. They’ve got drones patrolling each location and are communicating with us to let us know when to expect trouble and when to change directions.

  Zane’s voice sounds in my headset. “You’ve got two coming up in about thirty metres. After you clear these trees.”

  I aim my gun, ready to shoot. As I finish making my way through the trees, the two men come into sight. Hunt moves next to me, and we take them out before jogging the rest of the way to the door.

  Once we reach it, Hunt picks the lock, and we’re in. The plan is to quickly make our way through the building to locate Bourne. Our intel picked up that there’s usually no more than six guys here at a time. Most of their gang work out of their other location.

  I signal to my men the direction I want us to move in. It’s where I hear sound coming from. We walk quietly and with determination until we reach the destination. Once we’re all lined up against the wall, I use a mirror to check the room, noting three men in there. Bourne doesn’t appear to be one of them. Gesturing, I let the team know how we’re going to enter. They move into place before I turn and enter the room, firing to kill. I take two of them out; Hunt takes the third.

  Signalling, I tell everyone where to go next. We’re almost out of the room when gunshots sound and one of our guys goes down.

  Fuck.

  I turn back in time to see three guys coming at us.

  “Winter!” Hunt yells, and I instinctively crouch, narrowly missing a bullet.

  Zane sounds in my ear again. “You’ve got one leaving the back door, heading to the garage out back.”

  “Fuck!” I roar.

  “I’ll cover you,” Hunt says.

  I nod, and while he does that, I make my way through the battle of knives and guns that’s taking place, to run to the back of the warehouse where we came in. Exiting, I race to the garage just in time to stop whoever it is start the car in there.

  I shoot the tyres and duck as I’m shot at. Looking under the car, I see his boots hit the cement ground before he walks around to the back of the vehicle.

  “We finally meet,” he drawls.

  Bourne.

  Motherfucker.

  Zane comes through my headset again. “Shoot him. We’re running out of time.”

  I pull myself up to a standing position, coming face-to-face with my nemesis. “Finally.”

  He points his gun at me. “You won’t stop me, Winter. Not when there’s a higher plan here.”

  Fuck, he’s insane. A higher fucking plan?

  “And what’s the higher plan?”

  “I will rule this country once I complete my work.”

  “As in politically, or criminally?”

  “Fuck politics. That’s not where the real power is.”

  “Some presidents would argue that.”

  His lips flatten and he walks closer to me. “You’re not smarter than me.”

  “Never said I was. King, on the other hand, probably thinks he is. Oh, and he said to say hi. Mentioned something about dancing with you in hell.”

  Hatred glitters in his eyes as he presses his gun to my head. Yes, asshole, now we’re playing. Keep it there. Just like that. “Hell is not for men like me. King will find that out soon enough.”

  Fucking. Deranged.

  “Winter.” Zane again. “Fucking kill him. You’re out of time.”

  Yeah, I’m fucking trying, Zane.

  Bourne opens his mouth to speak again at the exact moment I move into action. Before he sees it coming, I swap my gun to my left hand so I can use my right one to swing up and knock his gun out of place, away from my temple. As it crashes to the ground, I lift my foot and kick him hard in the groin. He stumbles back, crying out in pain, and I step forward and point my gun at him.

  “I wish we had more time together, because I’d take great fucking pleas
ure in making you wish you’d never fucked with me, but we don’t. And one last tip: when you do get to hell, make sure you find your brother and let him know to run like fuck. King and I will be down there soon enough looking for the both of you, and when we find you, it ain’t gonna be fun fucking times for either of you.”

  I pull the trigger.

  Watching him die is un-fucking-satisfactory, but knowing his gang won’t exist after tonight is, so I take it.

  Hunt and the team explode into the garage, coming to a stop when they eye Bourne on the ground.

  “Fuck,” Hunt says, “Zane is losing his shit. We need to get out of here.”

  I speak into my headset microphone. “He’s dead, Zane. We’re coming in now.”

  “Fuck,” is all I get back, and I grin as I follow the team back to the van. Fuck, I miss our army days. Riling Zane up never gets old.

  We make the drive back to Zane’s compound. The roller door opens for us and we circle down to the underground car park. When I enter the surveillance room, I catch Zane’s eye. He shakes his head at me as I make my way to him.

  “Is the second team in place?” I ask.

  He straightens and folds his arms. “Yeah, no fucking thanks to you. What the fuck happened out there? Every other team managed to get in and get out fast. Even King, who, to be honest, I thought would be my problem child.”

  “He had the upper hand. I had to wait for the right moment. Trust me, I wanted to take my time with him, but I didn’t. I only waited as long as I had to.”

  Axe cuts in on our conversation. “You guys ready? It’s about to go down.”

  Everyone in the room turns to watch the big screens on the wall. Zane has an entire wall filled with them. Ten to be exact. Tonight, we only need five to watch everything unfold.

  The second part of the plan involved a second team in each location who went in and planted bombs throughout each building. These were Zane’s guys, all ex-military, all highly trained for this exact task. What we’re about to watch is every fucking location blow the fuck up.

  My phone rings.