“His name is Tristan. And he’s my son, not the baby or the boy,” I ground out. Apology furrowed Radar’s face, and I realized he was trying to depersonalize Avery and Tristan to separate himself emotionally.
“Okay, look, I’m going to step out the door and try to draw fire. Y’all need to get Gunny’s son free. We need to be ready to move as soon as we have cover.” Smoke said from behind me. I glanced over my shoulder at him, then back to Avery.
“Get him out,” she begged me.
“I’m not leaving you. Straight will get him out of here.” I offered up my VP without asking, but I couldn’t leave her. I needed my son to be safe, but I refused to leave her. She shook her head as far as she could the entire time I was talking, and tears ran steady down her pale cheeks.
“Jaxon, he can’t be without both of us,” she pleaded. It didn’t escape me that she was using my given name, and I hated that it had taken something like this for it to happen without us being in bed. Ever so gently, I swiped my thumb under her eye and caught her tears.
“Please. Promise me you’ll get him out safe,” she quietly demanded. “This isn’t about me or you. This is about our son.”
My chest ached as my heart imploded at the thought of leaving her behind forever. She saw the battle warring in my head, and she nervously glanced around the room. Then her eyes flashed back to mine, and I saw acceptance in them. Acceptance for something I was unable to agree with. My head shook over and over.
“Brother… when I tell you to get your son, I need you to lift him out.” Radar looked up at me from where he knelt next to Avery and held a screwdriver. He had some other shit I wasn’t sure of, and his chest heaved with his ragged breaths.
Looking from him to Avery who was still gave me that pleading look, then back, I hardened my shattered heart. Unable to speak, I nodded.
Radar stood and started to mess with the box under Avery’s chin. My breath caught in my throat as I waited for the explosion that would end us all. Sweat dripped off his nose, and I watched as he closed his eyes, took several deep breaths, then resumed his task.
The beeping sound that had been background noise stopped. A collective breath released. “Get him,” whispered Radar.
Carefully, I extricated Tristan from the carrier. He kicked his feet right as I freed him, and Avery gasped. I froze, but then pulled him close. Ignoring the wetness that had soaked through his shirt from his full diaper, I stepped back.
“I love you both,” she whispered with a catch in her voice. I nearly lost my shit right then and there.
Holding my son tight, I exhaled a shaky breath. “I love you too, Ave. I’ll see you soon.”
Tears rolled freely. She gave me a watery smile. “I’ll see you in the next life.”
My eyes closed, and a silent sob shook me. Everything in me fought to stay by her, but my son began to fuss as if he knew something was incredibly wrong.
“Go!” said Smoke abruptly as he clasped my shoulder. My eyes snapped open. With one last longing glance her way, I hurried to the entrance.
“I’ll go first. Y’all have more to lose than I do,” Slice said with conviction. None of us were willing to argue by that time. Smoke nodded. Slice raised his chin and pushed the door wide open. A barrage of bullets pelted the ground the moment the door moved. One of the windows shattered. Following fire sounded off from another direction, and the bullets hitting the ground and glass in front of the shop stopped.
“Now! Move, move, move!” instructed Smoke as we quickly filed out and ran to the left for the dumpster. Ducking behind it, I looked over to the door we’d raced out of. Everyone but me and Styx pulled out their pieces.
“We need to keep moving!” Smoke shouted. Fighting my instinct to go back, I held my hand over my son’s ear as I pressed his other ear to my chest.
“Let’s go!” We made it around the back of the building, and then behind an old transmission shop. Moving like a well-oiled machine, we advanced in a tactical manner until we’d placed an acceptable amount of distance between us and the shooter.
Once we knew we were far enough away, we stopped to regroup. Slice grunted, and I looked to him as I saw him stumble. Blood soaked the sleeve of his white T-shirt and ran down his arm to drip from his fingertips.
“Prez!” I said right as Lock grabbed Slice under his arms.
Carefully lowering him to the ground, Lock then lifted his sleeve. “Fuck!”
Gently, Styx set Gwen down. “Watch her!” he shouted.
“I’ve got her!” Straight shouted as Styx rushed over to Slice. He jerked off his cut and tossed it to Lock. Assessing the damage, he then pulled off his shirt and ripped it into strips. He used one as a compress, then wrapped it. He did the same thing with the back side. “Through and through,” he announced. “No arterial bleed.”
Through it all, Slice cringed and gritted his teeth but didn’t make a sound.
Once he had the bleeding stopped, Styx laid his shirt down and scooped up the dirt that contained the drops of Slice’s blood. Scanning our path, he seemed satisfied, and tied the fabric up tightly.
“I don’t see anything either. I think it just now started to drip off him,” assured Straight as he too looked to the trail we’d made.
“Someone’s bound to have called the cops with all that gunfire,” said Lock as he listened for sirens.
“In this area? Unlikely,” scoffed Straight from where he was crouched by Gwen.
“Still, we need to get out of here,” agreed Smoke. “We can circle around to get back to the bikes and the van.”
“Yeah, but what if it’s not one person and they’re watching the van and bikes? We have Gwen and mini-Gunny to worry about.” Straight made a good point.
“Get my phone,” panted Slice. He painfully lifted his hip on the side that he’d been shot on. Styx dug his phone out of his ass pocket. “Last text messages to Izan. Text him the word extraction and send my location.”
“Done,” Styx confirmed. The words were barely out of his mouth when an explosion rang out behind us. It shook the very ground we stood on.
My heart stuttered as I clutched my son and screamed, “Noooooooooo!”
I tried to run back, but Smoke and Straight grabbed me. Tristan was sobbing, and so was I. Completely unashamed of my grief, I cried as my entire body trembled.
A dark gray SUV screeched to a stop next to us. We all piled in the back seat and hatch. We’d barely gotten the doors shut when the driver peeled out and shot down the road.
“Izan?” Smoke asked the driver.
“Si. Pleasure to meet you.” He never made eye contact, keeping his eyes on the road. The entire drive, I sat there in a daze. No one spoke after Izan did. Another car sped up behind us and followed us. Izan and Slice didn’t seem worried, so we tried not to be.
Smoke called Drew. “Meet us back at the clubhouse. We’ll go back for the bikes later.” He ended the call.
The entire drive to the clubhouse was a blur.
“Gunny. Bro, hand me Tristan.” Blinking, I turned my head to where Lock stood in the open door with his hands held out. Refusing to relinquish my hold on my son, I shook my head and climbed out. When my feet hit the dusty ground, my knees buckled, and hands grabbed my arms.
Shaking them off, I blindly shuffled inside and found my way to my room. Tristan began to fuss, pulling me out of my grief-driven trance.
Thankful for the few supplies we’d left in my room for family days, I cleaned him up. Then I numbly made him a bottle from the frozen milk Avery had left in the club freezer and fed him. The entire time, I stayed disconnected.
Then I collapsed on the bed with my son cradled in my arms and sobbed like a baby.
“Angel”—Theory of a Deadman
“We’re not going to make it out of here. Are we?” I whispered as soon as the last of his brothers had rushed out of the building. The bullets and shattering of the glass had startled me, but surprisingly, I was numb.
“I’m going to do my be
st,” he murmured softly as he focused on whatever he was doing.
“Can’t you just cut the wires like they do in the movies? Or separate the explosive stuff from the wire or something?” I asked as I swallowed my emotions. Stinging sweat ran in my eyes, and I blinked.
He chuckled despite the seriousness of the situation. “If only it was that easy, doll. He really did a number on this setup.”
Trying to blink away my tears proved to be impossible. They coursed down my face like a river. I scanned the area in dismay. “I didn’t think my last breaths would be taken like this,” I whispered.
Suddenly, the pressure on my neck eased. Shock had me holding my breath. Eyes bugging, I dropped my gaze. He looked as shocked as I was that he held the box in his hands. His knife was in between his teeth. I’d never seen someone move so slowly in my life.
“When I put this down, we won’t have much time. I’ve got the timer bypassed, but it’s temporary.” He spoke around the knife. “Take the knife.”
With shaking hands, I reached out and took the blade from his teeth. It was hard to breathe. The amount of terror coursing through my veins was unbelievable.
“Cut through the ropes,” he instructed. Reaching next to my neck, I sliced through the coarse, thick rope like it was butter. The relief of having my head free had me nearly fainting. “Hey. Come on. Hold it together. Keep cutting,” he instructed as he continued to hold the box.
Nodding, I moved to the ropes around my waist. “Watch the wires!” he shouted, causing me to jump, then freeze.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled. Be very careful not to cut through any of the wires as you cut the ropes,” he calmly clarified. I could only nod in reply.
Paying closer attention, I cut through the ropes one by one. “What do I do about the wires?” I asked as I stared at the wires and stuff that I assumed were the actual explosive components still wrapped round my waist and legs.
“Cut the baby thing loose from your body. It looks like most of the explosives are actually attached to the carrier to keep them in place on you. Gently loosen the wires and slip your legs out of them.” It took longer than I would’ve thought, but finally my legs were free. “Now you’re going to need to loosen the wires around your waist with the slack you have. You may have to slide up the pole and stand on the stool without tipping it, then work them and the carrier down as you go. Do it slowly. Try not to jostle the wires or the explosives too drastically. Based on the wiring and detonators, this appears to be a PETN-based bomb. I don’t expect you to know what that means, just that it’s not good.”
“Shit,” I muttered. My legs were asleep. Sheer determination had me doing as he’d instructed. The entire time, my legs were screaming as circulation returned. By the time I was standing on the stool, the wires were around my calves, but I lost my balance.
“Avery!” Radar looked up at me in horror. I saw the battle raging in his eyes. He couldn’t reach to steady me and hold the box.
Frantically, I grabbed for the pole behind me. We both breathed a sigh of relief when I caught myself.
“Okay,” he huffed out. “Carefully climb down so you don’t tip the stool.”
I did as he said. When my feet hit solid ground, I wanted to weep. My legs were burning, and I wanted to drop to the ground as my circulation continued to return. “Now what?”
“Take the gun from the back of my pants,” he instructed. I reached back, lifted his cut, and extracted the gun tucked in the holster clipped to the back of his jeans. “Now, chamber a round.”
“How?” I asked with a tremor to my voice. He told me what to do, and I tried. “It’s too hard!”
“Don’t try to pull the slide back, push the gun forward.” I did as he said, and it was still a struggle, but I did it. “Good job! Okay, go wait by the back door. If I’m not right behind you, shoot the door handle, get out, and run as fast as you can, as far as you can. Don’t stop, and don’t look back.”
Sudden desperation swallowed me. “I can’t leave you here!”
“Avery. Do as I said, or neither of us may make it out! Do you understand me?”
Sniffling, I nodded and rushed to the back room and through the mess of things back there to the back door. The gun shook in my hand as I stared at the doorknob. I remembered the guys saying something about ricochet, and I was terrified. What if we’d escaped only to be shot by our own bullet as it ricocheted back at us?
As I stood there trembling, the gun was jerked from my hand. “Get behind that desk!” I did, crouching low. His single shot was followed by several more as I was dragged up by my arm and out the door. Pinging sounds around us told me that someone was following us.
“Run!” he shouted next to me as he continued to drag me along. I had no idea where we were or where we were going.
My feet finally connecting with my brain, I began to run as fast as I could. He was slightly ahead of me but holding himself back to wait for me. We’d run through a parking lot and across the street when he jerked me behind a cinderblock building and pulled me down. He shoved my hands over my ears. He’d barely covered his when a massive explosion reverberated through my bones.
Even with my hands tightly over my ears, the sound was incredible. The dust billowed past us and sifted over us. I coughed and fought to breathe. He tugged my shirt up over my face.
He cautiously glanced around the building. Whatever he saw or didn’t see satisfied him. He stood and held out a hand to help me up. I threw my arms around him and gave him a big hug. “Thank you so much. Oh my God. Thank you.”
“Come on babe, you can thank me later.”
We walked arm in arm, casually, down the sidewalk. My heart was pounding. “Do you have your phone?” I asked as we walked like we didn’t have a care in the world.
He shook his head. “I’d given it to Lock to hold as a flashlight while we were looking for shit I could use. I didn’t think to get it back before they left.”
We turned the corner to find several bikes parked. My hand clutched Radar’s arm tightly as I stared at the bikes.
“Hey, I’m sure they’re fine.” He didn’t look as sure as he sounded. “Here. Put my helmet on. It will be a little big and it probably stinks, but it’s better than nothing.”
Too emotionally drained to argue, I pulled it on and buckled the strap to tighten it down as best as I could. The trip to the clubhouse took for-fucking-ever. I clutched Radar’s waist as he flew down the interstate. The entire way, I prayed that everyone was okay.
We turned into the clubhouse driveway, and he slowed down to ride the gravel road past the junk cars. By the time we got to the building, people were pouring out of the main door. Gunny was the last one out, carrying Tristan. As soon as he saw us, his eyes bugged and his mouth fell open. He handed Tristan to Lock.
Radar had barely put the kickstand down when I flew off the bike, fumbled with the clip under my chin, ripped the helmet off, and handed it to Radar before I was running. The small crowd parted as I ran toward Gunny.
Without pause I launched myself into his arms. He embraced me tightly as I wrapped my legs around him. Spinning slowly, he kissed my neck, my cheeks, my eyelids, and finally my lips. “Fuck, baby. I thought I’d lost you,” he whispered against my lips before kissing me again.
“I love you,” I whispered, taking in his red-rimmed eyes.
“I love you too.”
“I need Tristan,” I said as I jumped back down. He smiled as I turned to Lock with my arms outstretched. Tristan leaned toward me, and I embraced him tightly. “Hey, baby boy. Mama loves you.” I started crying as I rocked him back and forth. The adrenaline was wearing off, and the day’s events were beginning to catch up to me.
Gunny’s arms wrapped around the two of us, and we stood there holding our little family together. “I’ve got you both,” he murmured.
“Boys, I’m sorry to do this to you, but we need to go back for the bikes. We’re going to need to be careful, because while the gunshots may not have
raised an alarm, a building exploding sure as shit would. Avery? I’m gonna need to talk to you when we get back. Okay?” Smoke spoke to the brothers and to me. I nodded and nuzzled Tristan’s fluffy hair.
“Gunny, you and Styx stay here with the three of them,” Smoke instructed, then stepped to the side to speak quietly with Radar. My eyes darted around.
“Where’s Gwen? Is she okay?” I asked Gunny. I was full of trepidation of what his answer might be.
“She’s okay, babe. Got a fat goose egg on her head and a raging headache, but we’re keeping an eye on her. I want Styx to do a once-over on you. You want to go in and get cleaned up?” Gunny asked me.
“Please,” I sighed. Reluctantly, I handed my son to his dad.
After Styx checked me out for trauma and injuries, I took a hot shower. Mild abrasions were all I’d suffered, but the soap and water hitting them stung. After I’d dried off, I dressed in a pair of Gunny’s sweats I had to roll several times and one of his T-shirts.
Planning to rest for a minute, I lay on the bed and immediately crashed. I woke to a slapping on my face. When my eyes fluttered open, I saw Tristan lying next to me, smacking me in the face while he smiled. Gunny had his head propped on his fist as he lay on his side. He was watching us with a serious expression.
“Gonna need you to marry me.”
I choked. “What did you say? Is that you proposing?”
“Not really, just stating a fact. But if I was, what would your answer be?” His bright blue eyes locked with mine. Tristan stuck his fingers in my open mouth. Gunny grinned mischievously. “Even he wants to know what you’d say.”
“Maybe I’d say yes.” I pulled my lips to the side to keep from smiling.
“Maybe, huh?”
“Yeah. Maybe.”
He chuckled, then sobered. “I never planned on you, you know? But I wouldn’t change anything but my stubbornness if I had it to do over again. It seems like a ridiculously short time to have two people mean so much to me, but it is what it is. I don’t want to live without you in my life.” He leaned over to kiss Tristan’s nose and then mine.
Jax and Jokers: A Demented Sons MC Texas Novel Page 23