by Jessica Ames
My heart surges. They came for me.
Dylan leans down and places his hands on the arms of the chair.
“Looks like the cavalry is here and just in time.”
He kisses me and I want to vomit. I try to twist my head away, but his grip on my chin is too tight. When he pulls back, he has my blood on his face. He grins maniacally, and I wonder if he’s finally lost it.
“Sit a spell, little Mackenzie. I’ll be back to finish what I started.”
I watch them both disappear through the door, Dylan pulling a gun from his waistband as he walks, which makes my stomach fill with ice. I send up a prayer to the universe asking to keep my family safe.
For a moment, there’s just silence greeting me.
Then, there’s an almighty rumble and my chair rocks before I realise something just exploded.
Chapter Twenty-Two
A cacophony of gunfire fills the air in the moments after the explosion. Dust from the ceiling rains down on me, but my focus is locked on the battle I can hear outside. A battle that sounds like it’s for their lives. My heart gallops in my chest as I hope and pray my family, and Dane’s family, will come through this in one piece.
A large boom has my stomach twisting again. Are they bombing the compound? Fear rises in my throat as I try to loosen the ropes around my wrists and ankles, needing freedom, needing the safety the so-called cavalry can provide. I feel sick, nausea sitting just on the edge of my consciousness as I tug at my bindings. All I succeed in doing is rubbing my skin rawer.
I see the handle on the door jiggle and cold swamps me. Someone is trying to get in. Is it friend or foe, that’s the question? It could be Dylan coming back to finish what he started, or it could be Dane, riding in like the proverbial white knight.
It’s neither. The man who steps inside the room is Slade.
My heart leaps. Oh, thank god. I wanted Dane, but Slade isn’t a bad substitute. Relief floods me, relief that I’m finally safe, that this nightmare is over.
He peers at me, as if trying to see me beneath the mess of contusions and cuts littering my face, and then straightens.
I mouth, “Thank you,” at him, but he doesn’t come towards me. He hesitates in the doorway before he shuts it behind him.
All my senses go on alert as he takes a wary step towards me, as if I’m a dangerous animal.
“Where is he?”
Dylan. He’s asking where Dylan is.
Without my hands to sign, all I can do is shift my shoulders. Slade moves slowly to the chair, tucking his gun in his waistband and my senses tingle.
Is something wrong?
“This should never have happened to you, kid,” he mutters as he takes me in. “Things have changed over the years, and not in a good way. Derek wants us out of the drug running, he wants to become civilians. I don’t want that. We’re unprotected when we’re weak. This is a prime example of that.”
He pulls a knife from his boot, and I find my breath catching in my throat as I stare at the metal blade.
“That daft twat has it in his head that’s the direction we should go in. The man isn’t fit to rule.”
His words wash over me like cold water.
What is he talking about?
Does he mean to usurp Derek?
Is he crazy?
Clearly, he must be because no one in their right mind would seek to dethrone their own president, to deal harm on their Club.
He cuts the ropes and I sag forward, unable to stop my boneless body sliding into his arms.
“Easy, darlin’.”
He barely has the ropes free of my ankles when the door opens behind him. He spins at the same time my head lifts, and my heart stops. It’s Dylan.
Slade gently pushes me back onto the chair so I don’t fall out of it and then stands, tugging his gun free from his back. It’s pointed right at Dylan, whose own gun is dangling loosely in his hand at his side.
“How’s it feel to be the hero in this scenario, Slade?”
“You backstabbing shit. I fucking vouched for you.”
“It did make things easier with your help.” He ponders this. “I doubt I could have done this as fast without it.”
“Why? Why’d you do it? The Club didn’t do shit to you.”
“You treated me as less. I was seen as a nobody. Your boys were obnoxious and frankly I was tired of it.”
“This is about you throwing a fit over no one liking you? Well, boo hoo, cry me a fucking river.”
“That helped, but it was more about consolidating power. The Saxons hold the gateway between the north and the south. I wanted that, so did my prez. I never understood how a pissant club like yours could get so powerful, but I knew it had to be the money you guys are raking in from running those drug lines. We wanted it.”
He raises his gun and fires.
I draw in a breath as Slade drops to the ground holding his shoulder, blood pouring from beneath his fingers.
Dylan moves to him and removes the gun from his grip. “You’re too old for this game, Slade.” Then his attention comes to me. “You’re supposed to be dead, Mackenzie.”
He pulls a gun out and aims it at me.
“I’m sorry it has to be this way, but it’s the only way to destabilise the Saxons.”
He’s going to kill me. He’s going to kill me. My stomach twists and ice floods me. My brain blanks out and the only thought I have is I didn’t get to see Dane again.
I jump at the sound of the gun going off. As he fires it, Slade surges up from the floor and tackles him. They go down in a heavy heap as the door behind him opens and I catch a glimpse of Dane. He moves quickly, grabbing Dylan.
I think he’s missed me. Then, I feel the pain. It spreads through my stomach like hot embers, burning my skin and insides.
Glancing down, through my swollen lids, I see fresh blood spilling across my top like an ink stain. Bile rises in my throat.
He shot me.
Dylan shot me.
My head feels fuzzy and I try to focus on what Dane, Slade and Dylan are doing, but I can hardly see through the watery veil covering my eyes. I’m crying, I realise.
From the pain?
From the situation?
From realising Dane might get hurt?
I’m not sure. All I know is my tears are falling.
The gun goes off again and I try to blink my vision clear, but I can’t.
“Kenz?” Dane’s voice pushes through the cotton wool in my ears. “Fuck. This is a lot of blood.”
I try to focus on his face, but it keeps swimming in front of me. I do notice a streak of red on his arm. Is he shot too?
I peer beyond him and see a sight that will haunt me until my dying breath. Dylan is lying on the floor, blood spewing from a wound in his head, his eyes staring unseeing at the ceiling. Slade stands over him, the gun held loosely at his side.
Shit.
Bile rises up my throat at seeing his body, but my attention is brought back to my own predicament as Dane presses a hand to my stomach. I draw a hiss of air into my lungs at the pain that fires through me.
“Sorry, baby. I have to stop the bleeding.”
“How bad?” Slade demands, cradling his shot up shoulder.
Dane doesn’t say, instead he mutters, “Just hold on, Kenz. Hold on. We’ll get this fixed up.”
There’s a tremble in his voice that should scare me, but I feel weirdly at peace. I’m dying, I know I am. I wish I could hold on for him, but I can’t. My energy is draining out of me with each pump of blood lost from my gut and I can hardly focus on anything but my own shallow inhalations.
“What the fuck happened?” My brother, Jem. His hands go to the back of his neck, like he’s on the verge of hysteria. I wish I could tell him it’ll be okay.
“Dylan fucking shot her.”
“What?” Dean steps into the room behind them, pushing to the front to see for himself.
“He shot her,” Dane reiterates, his tone hard.
&nbs
p; Dane sweeps me up, apologising as I whimper at the movement.
“Dylan did this?” Jem presses, trailing after him as he carries me out of the room.
My stomach aches, that fierce burning dulled down. That doesn’t seem like a good thing.
As we move through the Reapers’ clubhouse, I see the chaos, the destruction wrought by my family, by my man. Too bad it was all in vain.
There’s a chunk of the building missing, completely blown out, and the ceiling has come down in this section. Dane navigates around the destruction, carrying me as if I weigh nothing, while my brother and Dean follow on his heels.
I start to drift, my eyes feeling heavy. I’m exhausted. Even the act of blinking seems like a monumental task.
As we get outside, I see a group gathered around a bunch of men on their knees. I recognise Racket immediately. The others are Reapers, if the backs of their kuttes are to go by.
I see Logan, Adam and Wade with guns pointing at them, Weed and Charlie too. Jack loiters on the edge, pacing.
There are Devils there too. Axel and Foz are holding a big man between them, who I think is the Reapers’ president.
And Maverick, head of the London Chapter, is standing in front of the proceedings with his arms crossed over his chest.
There are other Devils too, not just London and Manchester. I see kuttes with Birmingham, Bristol and Newcastle on the back.
“What happened?” Logan and Adam both demand, rushing to Dane’s side.
Logan takes one look at the blood on me and closes his eyes. I see so much pain in that gesture.
“You get her to the hospital, now,” Lo tells Dane.
“That’s where we’re going. Where’s Leech?”
Leech is the Devils’ doc.
Foz pulls his phone out and speaks into it. Dane doesn’t stop to hear the response. He keeps moving with me. We reach the rows of bikes and I see a problem. How are we getting anywhere? I can’t ride.
I don’t need to worry, though. Dane strides over to a car in the car park and puts the window through. Dean climbs in, and leans down into the front foot well, tugging the wires down.
I cry out, my attention diverted as Dane places me on the back seat. He tries to do it carefully, but my wound pulls anyway.
“Sorry, baby. I’m trying to be gentle here.”
I nod. I know he is. He leans over me and I see the blood smears on his face which makes his expression all the more haunted.
“Don’t leave me. Promise.”
I want to promise it so badly, so I shift my head a little into a nod. He presses his forehead to mine and cups my cheek.
“I love you, Kenz. Please don’t leave me.”
When his eyes meet mine, I give him that back. I mouth them. “I love you too.”
He kisses me and it’s the sweetest kiss I’ve ever had from this big gruff man. It steals my breath more than the wound in my stomach.
“I love you,” he repeats.
I nod, because I know he does.
“Out of the way,” Leech’s voice snaps through our moment. “Let me see.”
Dane pulls back out of the vehicle, and Leech moves into his place.
“This is quite the mess you’ve got yourself into, love,” he tells me. “We’ll have you patched up in no time.”
I can’t help but think he’s deluded, but since I can’t say it, I just smile to myself and let myself float into the abyss as the good old doctor continues talking at me.
Chapter Twenty-Three
A steady, rhythmic beeping penetrates through my haze. I slowly prise one eye open and see white walls and a pale blue curtain hanging around the bed. My gaze slides to the side of the bed where I see Dane slumped in a chair, my mother sitting next to him. It makes for a surreal sight, but it’s not one I wholly disapprove of.
I shift a little and wince as pain stabs along my stomach.
Shot.
I got shot.
Clearly, I’m not dead, so I survived, but with what damage? When Wade was shot, his recovery took months. I can’t be in hospital for months.
I bang my hand off the bed rail and Dane’s eyes pop open, my mum’s a moment later.
Dane moves before I can do anything else and takes my face in his hands. “You’re awake.” He kisses me repeatedly before he rests his forehead to mine. “Thank fuck. Baby, you’ve given me a few sleepless nights this week.”
A few? How long have I been out of it for?
“Kenzie, darling,” Mum peers around Dane’s huge frame and he steps aside to let her get closer to the bed. I don’t know why, but that makes me feel a little warm. “How are you feeling?”
I raise my hands and sign, “Sore.”
“I’ll go and grab the doctor,” Mum says and kisses my head. “I’m glad you’re okay, darling.”
Okay might be pushing it, but I give her a smile even so.
I wait for her to leave and then sign to Dane, “What happened?” I ignore the bruises marring my wrists, a reminder of what I suffered.
I sign it slowly, so he can keep up. We’ve been practising, but he’s nowhere near fluent yet.
“What happened?” he reaffirms and I nod. “You were shot by Dylan. Do you remember?”
I swallow hard. I do remember and I wish I didn’t. I don’t want to relive that again.
“Where?”
“Where? The stomach. You lost a lot of blood and had to have surgery to repair the damage the bullet did, but they say you’re going to be fine, baby. Thank God.”
“Where’s Slade?” I mouth.
Dane scrubs a hand over his shaved head, tension clear in every line of his body. “He’s fine. They stitched him up and sent him home.”
Relief washes through me. “Lucas?”
His mouth pulls into a line. “He didn’t make it. I’m sorry, baby.”
Pain stabs me, pain that feels bone deep. I stare at the ceiling, my eyes brimming with tears. This is such a mess.
When my tears fall, Dane wipes them away. “Hey, no crying, little one. We’ll get through this.”
And I know I will. With him at my side, I can get through anything.
The doctor steps into the room and takes my blood pressure, then he gives me some meds before he leaves. I could kiss him for that. The pain moves to a dull ache that is more manageable.
Dane and Mum sit with me as I drift in and out, and at one point my sister replaces Mum. Dane never leaves my side, as if he’s rooted to the seat. I don’t blame him. I’d be the same if our roles were reversed.
After I wake the fourth or fifth time, Dane has been joined by Logan. My older brother looks like he’s aged about twenty years since I last saw him. He steps to the bed and peers down at me before he squeezes my hand.
“How are you doing, Kenz?”
I smile at him, indicating I’m okay, although I’m going to need more drugs soon. I can feel these ones starting to wear off.
“How are the girls?” I sign.
“Fine. Worried about you.”
I fidget with the blanket, my eyes moving between Logan and Dane. “What do we do next?”
“You concentrate on getting better.”
“What about me and Dane?”
His face twitches and I hate that it does. “Get better first.”
My heart clenches at that. “He’s mine and I’m not letting him go, Lo, so you’d better just get with the programme.”
He scowls. “This thing between you two isn’t as simple as ‘just get over it’, Kenzie. You and Dane both have to know that.”
Dane sighs. “I think my club has shown its loyalty to yours, don’t you? We’re not going anywhere and we’re not breaking those vows of friendship, but Mackenzie is mine and I will fight for her.”
My heart swells hearing the vehemence in his voice. I love that it’s there because I feel the same. I’ll fight for him.
Logan sobers. “There’s no point beating around the bush here. You and her being together is a difficult situation, but
how we deal with that will have to be discussed. I’m not keen on my sister moving to Manchester and away from the family, but I also know that’s going to be the only way you guys can have a relationship.”
“I love him too, Lo,” I sign.
My big brother’s eyes go to the ceiling. “You couldn’t have fallen for a regular Joe, could you?”
I grin and Logan lets out a deep breath.
“For what it’s worth, I think Dane’s good for you, Kenz and I have no doubts after what he did with Dylan that he’ll always take care of you, and that’s all I care about—that you’re looked after.”
I smile at him. “Thank you.”
He turns to Dane. “You better take care of her—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. And I will. You never have to worry about her, brother. And I’ll bring her to Kingsley any time she wants.”
Yeah, I might more than love Dane.
And having Logan’s blessing brings us one step closer to acceptance, and that is a good thing for us. I couldn’t do this without my family’s blessing.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“I can manage,” I sign, as Mum and Sofia both rush forwards to help me up off the chair.
I escaped from the hospital a week ago and was brought to Mum’s house to recuperate. Two weeks in that place was more than enough for one lifetime. I think it was more than enough for my mother too, who has been flapping around me since I got home.
Today is the first time they’ve let me leave the house, although I’ve only gone as far as the Saxons’ clubhouse. The other girls will arrive soon and I can’t wait to see them. It feels like it’s been an eternity, even though I had a steady stream of visitors while I was laid up.
“Do you want a coffee?” she asks, as I get to my feet, wincing slightly at the pull on my stitches.
“Yes, please,” I sign.
I head to the bathroom, the only place where I’m guaranteed five minutes peace and do my business.
When I get back to the common room, Sofia is sitting at the table still, twirling her fingers through her hair.
As I gingerly sit down, she watches me, her face a mask of concern.