Spyder: An Alpha Male MC Biker Romance (Dark Pharaohs Motorcycle Club Romance Book 3)

by Ivy Black

  “Right,” he says into the phone. “Copy that.”

  He disconnects the call and slides the phone back into his pocket, the expression on his face sour, and it feels like a brick has been dropped into my stomach. I can see the conflict on his face and know what it is he’s struggling with. He looks down at his hands, wringing them together. His body is as tight as the expression on his face.

  “Zavala?” I ask.

  He nods but doesn’t say anything, his gaze fixed on his hands. My stomach and heart are both fluttering wildly, knowing what this means. He’s going to war. Derek finally looks up at me and it almost seems like he’s asking my permission to go. Like he wants me to be okay with this. I’m not, but I also know if he doesn’t do this, if he doesn’t stand with his brothers, and something happens to them, it’s something that will haunt him for the rest of his life. It’s something he’d never forgive himself for.

  At the same time, I have to think my brush with death is giving him pause. It’s making him look at his whole situation differently. Having almost lost me, I can see him struggling with the idea of putting himself in a position where I could potentially lose him. He’s struggling with the emotions he felt last night and is probably thinking about what I’m going to be going through as I wait to hear word from him. As I wait to find out if he’s alive.

  “I don’t want to say this… I can’t believe I’m saying this… but you should go,” I say. “You should see this through. Finish what you started and come back to me, Derek.”

  He looks at me with a sense of trepidation in his eyes. He knows what a difficult thing this is for me to say. Knows how hard this is for me. He knows that between my mother’s illness and now this, that I’m having a rough time of it. But I can also see the gratitude on his face. I can see he’s thankful that I understand… or at least, that I’m pretending to understand and be all right with this. And pretending is about all I can do. Fake it till you make it, right?

  “Just be careful. As careful as you can. If you get yourself killed out there, I’m going to be pissed. You owe me a kiss,” I tell him, trying to sound light about it.

  “And I plan on making good on that debt,” he replies.

  Derek gets to his feet and leans over, placing a gentle kiss on the top of my head. He holds my gaze for a long moment and gives me a tight smile.

  “I’ll see you after,” he tells me.

  “You better.”

  He turns and walks out of my room and I struggle to hold back my tears, trying to fight off the feeling that it’s the last time I’m ever going to see him again.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Spyder

  “That’s the last of them.” Nitro’s voice comes through the comm softly.

  “All clear. Come on back,” I report back.

  The world around me is cast in the eerie green glow of my night-vision goggles as I keep my eyes peeled. With me serving as his spotter, Nitro has been moving along the sparse shrubs along the road that leads into the warehouse, dropping a string of surprises to welcome Zavala into town. From my position on a small rise, I can keep an eye on and provide cover for him as well as survey the warehouse to make sure he remains unseen.

  We waited until after the sun went down to start prepping the ground. We got word from Tarantula that Zavala is going to be here tonight. One way or the other, the war is going to come to an end. My hope is that from our elevated positions and with the surprises we left along the road, we can end this before Zavala’s men even know what’s happening. I want this done quickly because the longer the fight goes on, the more the advantage shifts to them. Surprise is our ally, and we need to make the most of it.

  I want to put these fuckers in the ground and get out of here. I want to get back to Bellamy as quickly as I can, alive and in one piece. The look in her eyes when I left her hospital room is still tearing me apart inside. She looked at me like she was already seeing a ghost and it was breaking her heart. I could see she was trying to hold it together, but she was struggling.

  And truth be told, it wasn’t easy for me, either. Seeing her in that bed, so fragile and damaged… it sent a lance of pain through my heart that continues to linger but also filled me with a white-hot rage. If she hadn’t made me promise not to kill Peter, he’d be in the bottom of a ditch with two in the back of his head right now.

  Although I can’t even begin to describe the relief I feel now that I know she’s going to be all right and will make a full recovery, I get a small sense of what she must feel like when she sees her own mother in her bed…. powerless. You want to alleviate their hurt and pain, but there is literally nothing you can do about it. You’re completely impotent.

  “Shit,” I mutter to myself then key open my comm. “Nitro, freeze. Do not move. Hunker down.”

  Ahead of me, near the compound wall, a couple of Zavala’s men are leaning against the fence, talking and smoking. They’re not a hundred yards from where Nitro is hunkered down behind a tall rock. The cartel men linger near the fence for several long minutes before they crush out their smokes beneath their boots and head back to the warehouse.

  “Okay, you’re clear,” I whisper into my comm. “Get your ass back here on the double, Nitro.”

  I keep track of him cutting along the shrub line and up the rise toward me. I look back at the compound and see that the coast is still clear. I turn and look back at the higher rise and can make out the darkened silhouettes along the ridge, waiting for the signal to attack.

  Moving quickly, Nitro drops down behind the scrubby brush on the rise beside me. The guy rarely smiles, but when he looks over at me, he’s got a shit-eating grin on his face. The prospect of this fight seems to be juicing him up the same way it does the other guys in the MC who’ve seen combat.

  After running some of the ops with the club, I sort of understand it. But having never seen combat in a war zone, I don’t get quite as pumped as the rest of the guys. Mostly, I just feel nervous. My gut is tight, and my throat is dry, and my every nerve ending seems to be sparking with electricity, but there’s a sense of anticipation coursing through me nonetheless.

  I look over at Nitro. “You sure those party favors are going to work?”

  He gives me a frown. “Dude, I’ve got a degree in chemical engineering and I’m a demolitions expert. What do you think?”

  “A degree in chemical engineering? Seriously?”

  He nods. “Seriously.”

  “Wow. Had no idea. I’m impressed.”

  “You should be,” he says with a grin.

  It makes me realize there is a host of things about the guys I don’t know. That’s something I’m going to have to remedy when we make it out of this fight. These guys are my brothers, I feel that deep in my bones. But the fact that I actually know so little about them is shameful. I don’t know why I haven’t made more of an effort to actually get to know them on a deeper level, but I vow to myself to change that.

  As the thoughts go through my head, I realize what I’m doing is bargaining. It strikes me as similar to the way people pray to God, or whoever their higher power is, to help them get through whatever their situation is. They say they’re going to make this change or that if God, or whoever, gets them through whatever trials they’re facing.

  I’ve never been a religious man, but in that moment, I don’t really care. I’m willing to take help from anybody and everybody right about now since I’m nervous as hell about what’s coming. We’ve planned it as best as we could and have made all of the necessary preparations. We’ve got the high ground and the element of surprise on our side.

  But Zavala’s ranks at the warehouse have swelled and I’m counting better than three dozen at the moment. That doesn’t include whatever mutts Zavala is bringing up with him from Mex.

  “All teams, check in.” Prophet’s voice comes through the comms. “Black team is ready.”

  “Red team checking in and standing by.” Cosmo’s quiet voice comes through.

  I lo
ok to the ridge to the east, knowing Cosmo’s team is out there waiting. To the west are Doc and his team. And to the south of our position, Prophet and his team are waiting to breach from the rear.

  “Green team in position,” Doc says.

  “Fuchsia team in position,” I crack.

  Nitro and I have the demo and overwatch position and will be providing sniper fire as cover. But we don’t have a team designation, so I threw that in just to add a little levity to an increasingly tense situation. I’m sure it annoyed Prophet, but I think the guys appreciated a little chuckle right about now.

  “Stow it, Spyder,” Prophet says, though he doesn’t sound too irritated.

  As we settle in to wait, I check my weapon again, just giving myself something to do while we wait. Tarantula didn’t have an exact time that Zavala would be arriving, just that it would be sometime after nightfall. So we made sure to get ourselves in position and settled in to wait. I don’t like waiting. I’ve never been great with patience, and I’d rather get this started sooner rather than later.

  “You need to learn to relax, man,” Nitro says. “The fight will be here soon enough. No use getting worked up about it.”

  “I’m just not as Zen as you.”

  “Clearly.”

  I double-check to make sure the safety on my weapon is on then turn and look over the compound again. There are guys hustling around, and there seems to be a lot of activity within the fence line in general. More so than ten minutes ago. It’s like kids who are cleaning up really fast before their parents show up. That tells me we’re getting close. The realization tightens my gut even more.

  “When you’re tense and worked up, you’re more likely to make a mistake and get yourself killed. Or worse, get me killed,” Nitro says with a grin.

  “Sorry, I don’t have the combat experience you guys do. It’s still new to me.”

  “I’ve seen you in action. You’re fine, man. You handle yourself like a vet.”

  “Doesn’t feel like that.”

  “You should always be on edge before a battle. The minute you get complacent is the minute you’re dead,” he says. “But I saw what you did at the cabin when we took out those sicarios. That took balls, man. Serious balls.”

  “Yeah, well, I do something like that again and if Zavala doesn’t kill me, Bellamy will.”

  He laughs softly. “It’s nice to have somebody worth trying to stay alive for, huh?

  “It really is. I never expected that I’d ever have somebody like her in my life, but here we are.”

  “Life is funny that way. Throws you a bone when you least expect it.”

  “What about you?” I ask. “Got somebody worth staying alive for?”

  Nitro opens his mouth to reply, but the crackle over the comm cuts him off, and then Prophet’s gravelly voice comes over the line.

  “Look alive, we’ve got incoming,” Prophet says. “Nitro, Spyder, you guys are on. Stay sharp. Red team, green team, stand ready.”

  I see the headlights bouncing down the narrow access road that runs in from the highway, and my stomach feels like it’s turning itself inside out.

  “Half a dozen SUVs,” I say.

  “Copy that. Standing by,” Nitro replies.

  I raise my goggles and put the night-vision binoculars to my eyes. From our elevated position, I can see the small blinking light on the back of the IEDs Nitro planted along the access road. I guess what he learned during his time over in the shit, specifically about the enemy IEDs he had defused, is actually coming in handy.

  I watch the line of SUVs rolling down the road, timing it so the maximum number of vehicles are going to be caught up in the blast zone. With any luck, Zavala will be killed outright. If so, it may end things before they get out of hand. That would be the ideal. But it’s not something I’m counting on. Things rarely go that smoothly.

  The SUVs roll inexorably onward but seem to be moving at a crawl. I know it’s just my impatience, as well as my desire to see this whole thing done, but they really do seem to be moving in slow motion.

  “Get ready,” I tell Nitro.

  “Copy that.”

  “Five…”

  Through the binoculars, I focus in on the SUVs, trying to see if I can figure out which one Zavala is riding in.

  “Four…”

  “Standing by,” Nitro says.

  “Three…”

  The SUVs roll into the blast zone but not all of them. Given how they’re spaced out, I estimate the last two in the convoy aren’t going to be touched by the IEDs.

  “Two…”

  I grip my binoculars tighter, staring at the vehicles intently. It’s just as I thought, the last two SUVs are outside the blast zone. But there’s nothing for it.

  “Do it,” I say.

  I hear the click as Nitro engages the trigger and I draw in a breath, holding it as I watch. There’s a moment of absolute silence, then the world erupts into fire and chaos. The chain of explosions from Nitro’s bombs shakes the ground beneath us and columns of flame light up the nighttime sky as the air around us reverberates with the concussive explosions that sound like the world is being torn open.

  “Jesus,” I say. “Remind me to never doubt your skills again.”

  “Damn right,” Nitro replies with a grin.

  “All teams, move in. Move in, now,” Prophet’s voice crackles over the comm.

  Shadowy figures rise from the scrubby landscape and pour down toward the burning vehicles. Doc and Cosmo’s teams are already firing on those who’ve survived the initial blast when I notice the gates to the compound are swinging open.

  “Stay sharp,” I tell Nitro. “Party crashers.”

  “On it.”

  Laying side by side on the rise, Nitro and I adjust our scopes and start popping off shots, dropping the soldiers pouring out to join the fight. Explosions rip through the night air at the rear of the compound as Prophet and his men start lighting it up, drawing the attention of some of the fighters. The men at the gates hesitate, torn between defending the compound and rushing out to defend Zavala. The survivors of the blasts had fled the burning wreckage of the SUVs and rallied.

  The two teams on the ground disabled the rear cars, so if Zavala’s among them, he’s not going anywhere. The remaining soldiers have taken what shelter they were able to find and started returning fire, halting the advance of Cosmo’s and Doc’s teams. All the while, Nitro and I, while not the snipers Domino is, do a passable job and have dropped about a dozen guys between us.

  The majority of those who were coming out turn back and rush toward the rear of the compound to fend off the team coming in. Nitro and I keep firing and continue dropping bodies, thinning out the force Prophet’s going to have to deal with. I switch my attention back to the battle raging around the cars.

  The firefight is fierce with the cartel men stonewalling Cosmo’s and Doc’s teams, pinning them down under a barrage of heavy fire. I have to think Zavala’s somewhere in the mix. The soldiers firing back are too organized and are fighting too hard for it to be anything else. It tells me they’re protecting something. Or rather, somebody. Zavala. It has to be.

  Looking through my scope, I survey the faces of the cartel soldiers who are holding off Doc and Cosmo’s teams. I take a shot and drop one of the cartel soldiers. I get up on a knee, take aim at the soldiers down below, and squeeze off another shot. My bullet tears into the car, making the soldier duck back down.

  “Dammit,” I grunt.

  “Get down,” Nitro growls.

  His warning comes too late, though. The impact spins me around and drops me, driving the breath from my lungs. My shoulder feels like it’s been injected with fire and pain radiates through my entire body. I grimace and try to catch my breath as I struggle back into position on the rise, trying to push the agony away as I pick up my weapon again.

  “You good?” Nitro asks.

  “That’s not the word I’d use,” I wheeze with a grimace. “I can function.”


  “That’ll do.”

  I close my eyes and take a deep breath then let it out. Down below, I see half a dozen men sheltering behind the gates, some of them firing at Cosmo’s and Doc’s position, some of them firing at us. I hear the bullets whizzing overhead and others tearing into the hard-packed ground around us. It was one of those assholes who put a bullet in my shoulder.

  Gritting my teeth, anger flowing through my veins, I take aim and start firing at the men at the gate. Nitro and I fire shot after shot, dropping a couple and sending the rest of them scurrying back toward the warehouse. But I see Prophet and his team emerging from the shadows. They cut down the men who were retreating.

  I pivot again and take aim at the men sheltering behind the SUVs, squeezing off a couple of shots. My bullets hit the SUV, but as I look through the scope, I see a familiar face. X. The man they let walk when he hit the cabin full of sicarios. Zavala’s personal sicario. He’s definitely a man I want to kill.

  I blow out a breath and try to shut out the pain that’s squeezing me tight. I focus hard and try to anticipate the man’s movement. I need to be fast if I’m going to take him out. If he gives me the chance, anyway.

  And then, remarkably… he does. X stands up to fire off a couple of shots at Cosmo’s team and I quickly put him in my crosshairs and squeeze off a shot. I see X’s head snap to the side and then watch him drop, feeling a flush of triumph wash over me. Despite the pain that’s gripping me, I smile and let out a laugh.

  Nitro looks over at me. “Havin’ fun now, are you?”

  “Except for the bullet in my wing… yeah. I am, actually.”

  I look at how it’s all unfolding down below us. Zavala’s men are caught between Cosmo’s and Doc’s teams, Nitro and mine, and now Prophet’s team, who’s mopping up inside the compound and is moving up from behind. Zavala’s already lost… he apparently just doesn’t know it yet.

  The realization that we’ve won sinks in and takes some of the sting out of having a goddamn bullet in my shoulder. I had my doubts, but Prophet’s plan was perfect, and we managed to execute it well enough to carry the day. Or at least, we will once they put down the rest of those animals.