Traitor (Southern Rebels MC Book 3)

by Kristin Coley

“Norah,” Deacon asked urgently and I shook my head.

  “She’s not answering. I have to assume she’s in there,” I told him and saw the rage I felt cross his face. “We’re going to get them back,” I promised. “Monty…all of it ends today.”

  “I’m with you,” Deacon stated and I nodded. “He’s cost me so much.” He shook his head. “I thought testifying would be the answer, that being dead would protect her, but here we are.”

  “We won’t have to worry about it after tonight,” I swore, going to the cabinet and grabbing boxes of ammo. “Its time we finished this.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Drea

  I just finished sending the files to my dad when I heard a faint popping noise. It stopped and then started again, and cold crept through me. I knew that sound. I ran for the door, stopping when it slammed open, and I came face to face with Monty.

  “Well, well, if it isn’t my other little traitorous whore,” he snarled, waving a semi-automatic gun toward me. “Should I kill you now or wait until your lover shows up?” He grinned cruelly. “Wait, so I can watch his face while I plow you.”

  He reached for me, jerking me toward the hallway by my hair and I almost slammed into Tori, who managed to keep us both upright.

  “And you,” he spat, glaring at Tori with unbridled rage. “You cost me a lot of money, you tall freak.”

  Tori rolled her eyes. “So creative, no wonder you’re a failure.”

  He slammed the butt of the gun into her back and I winced at the sound it made. She stumbled forward, but again stayed on her feet. Women were being herded toward the bar, a few crying, and some with torn clothing and bruises. I didn’t see Sloan or Norah though and Tori’s expression warned me not to mention their names.

  I scanned the room, feeling like there were some missing girls, but unsure since I wasn’t familiar with the club. Men with guns ringed the perimeter of the room and I spotted Johnny sitting at a table in the middle of the room, a gun pointed at his head and another man on the ground, dead.

  “You’re going to watch as I destroy everything you love,” Monty shouted at Johnny.

  “Why?” Johnny asked, shaking his head in confusion. “Why are you doing this, Monty? We used to be friends. We were brother clubs for over a decade.”

  Monty stared at him in disbelief. “That’s it. Don’t you get it? Brother clubs. Never the same club. We should have all been Flying Eagles, Johnny boy.”

  It was my turn to blink in confusion at the unfamiliar club name, and I could see Johnny was taken aback. “I don’t understand, Monty,” Johnny admitted as Tori urged me toward the bar where Micah stood, her attention locked on Mont and Johnny.

  “I need a drink,” Tori declared loudly. “Something to disguise the stench in here.” Micah snapped out of her trance and reached for a bottle. Monty hurried over, knocking the bottle out of her hand.

  “I say when you drink,” he ordered and Tori grinned.

  “Say when,” she mocked and he backhanded her. I caught her before she hit the ground as Micah proceeded to wipe the spilled bottle up.

  “You never could hold your liquor, must be why they rejected you,” she commented, sweeping the glass straight into the trash. She gestured to the other men. “I’m sure they’re the same.”

  A few heard her and bristled, and I could see Monty was torn. “Johnny, can they drink?” Micah shouted and Johnny lifted his head.

  “Hell, no,” he answered, glaring at Monty. “This filth doesn’t drink at my club.”

  “Pour a round,” Monty commanded and Micah reached for the cheap bottle. “Top shelf,” Monty barked and from my angle I could see the tiny grin she hid from him. Tori made a soft sound of satisfaction as she pulled herself onto a barstool, whispering so only I could hear. “Don’t drink what she pours.”

  Micah quickly poured out two dozen shots, and Monty tossed one back, gesturing for the armed men to do the same. They came one by one, then Micah sent Monty a challenging stare.

  “Another round, Monty?”

  He nodded, unable to back down, this time forcing the other girls to pass the drinks out.

  “I’d forgotten you were a potential prospect for the Flying Eagles,” Johnny mentioned, shaking his head. “You were older than me. The same age as my brother.”

  “We should have been Eagles together,” Monty cried. “It was our plan.”

  “What happened?” Johnny asked. “My brother became an Eagle.”

  “Yeah, because your Dad was one,” Monty snapped. “I didn’t have that kind of in with the club. They rejected me.”

  Micah poured another round and the club girls circulated through the room, handing the shots out, and I wondered if that was the plan, to get the men drunk enough to overpower them. Looking at the weapons they were packing, I wasn’t sure drunk would be enough.

  Monty slammed his fist into Johnny’s face. “But he didn’t make you an Eagle, did he?”

  Johnny shook his head, looking rattled by the hard punch. “No, not after my brother died and they called the club cursed.”

  “Exactly, I made them pay,” Monty bragged and I could see Johnny still. “All of them. Afraid of the big bad curse. All waiting to see which one would die next.”

  “You….you killed them.” Johnny stared at Monty in disbelief and Micah stopped pouring drinks as she watched. My eyes caught on a framed jacket behind the bar, an Eagle with its wings spread wide, and connected the dots. Micah had been an Eagle, like Johnny’s brother and father.

  “I was the curse,” Monty cried, laughing almost hysterically. “God, I’ve waited so long to be able to say that.” He pointed the gun back at Johnny. “They all died because of me. Because I was the curse. I made them pay for rejecting me.”

  “Is that why you came after the Rebels?” Johnny questioned. “Because my father was an Eagle?”

  “No,” Monty snapped, “Because you didn’t ask me. You founded your stupid club with Cash Hayes, wonder boy, and ignored me, leaving me with no choice but to join up with the Vipers.”

  “I need a drink,” Johnny commented, shaking his head. “All this because you weren’t allowed in the Flying Eagles.”

  “No, you don’t call the shots. Not anymore. I do, and you don’t get a drink,” Monty cried, scooping up two of the shots and throwing them back. “Mine. I get them. I get all of them. Everything that’s yours is mine.”

  He grabbed my hair, dragging me toward him, even as I fought and he pressed his mouth against mine, shoving his tongue down my throat and I gagged, biting down until I tasted blood, and he knocked me away from him. I slammed into the bar, then went down hard hitting the floor, where he proceeded to kick me. Pain radiated through me as I instinctively curled into a ball, trying to protect my stomach. Loud bangs came from outside and I heard Micah shout, “Now.”

  I realized the bangs were gunfire as Johnny slammed into Monty and they slid straight toward me. I scrambled out of the way, tucking myself underneath the bar.

  The armed men were slow to react, acting drugged as the club girls scurried for cover. Men poured in from outside and it took me a second to realize they were with us as they disarmed Monty’s men. Tori covered my body with her own, firing a weapon I didn’t know she had, as Johnny belly crawled toward us, blood streaming from his head.

  “Monty,” he told her, pointing to the door and I saw her head that way, keeping her head down as Johnny took her place in covering me. “Stay down,” he told me and I nodded, having zero intention of standing up in the chaos of men.

  Tori was almost to Monty when Micah cut her off, a shotgun in her hand. She kicked him over, and without a second’s hesitation pumped two bullets into his stomach.

  “Die in agony, you bastard,” she growled over the sound of gunfire. “May you roast in hell.”

  After another minute, the sound of gunfire ceased and Johnny carefully sat up. “Everyone okay?” He shouted and a chorus of affirmatives met our ears. He helped me up and there was a wall of leath
er, and men groaning on the ground. Sloan appeared from the back, Norah, and the missing girls behind her. “Did it work?”

  “Like a charm,” Tori answered, high fiving her. “Who would have thought your end of the world prepping would actually come in handy?” She marveled and Sloan set her hands on her hips.

  “It’s a dangerous world, and I wasn’t going to be unprepared like the last time someone shot up the place,” she declared, looking around until she saw me. “You’re okay?” She hurried over to me as I nodded, still shell-shocked by what just happened.

  “Monty kicked her a few times,” Tori informed her and Sloan urged me to sit down.

  “I’m fine,” I said dismissively as she fussed.

  “I wanted to get you to the basement but there wasn’t time,” she cried, hovering over me. “Crew is going to flip.”

  “We probably need to call the police, well, Noah,” Tori mentioned, pointing to the wall where several phones were stashed. “They collected phones.”

  “There’s zero signal in the basement,” Sloan reported, pulling out her phone. “I’ll need to work on that, maybe a land line?” Her planning was cut off as we heard a shout.

  “Jailbait!”

  “Tori!”

  “Drea!”

  They’re panicked voices carried over the loud room as they pushed their way toward us.

  “I don’t think calling Noah will be necessary,” I mentioned, as I straightened with a groan. “I think the cavalry has arrived.”

  Clutch used his bulk to plow through the room as Tori waved her hand, the only one tall enough to see over the sea of bodies. I noticed several of the kuttes had a playing card on them, each one representing an Ace card.

  I stayed on the bar stool, not sure I was ready to stand up but I didn’t need to worry as Crew picked me up the moment he was close enough. He buried his head in my hair, murmuring words I couldn’t understand, but didn’t need to as I held him close, the tears I’d been holding back finally breaking free.

  “You’re okay?” He muttered, his hands going over me frantically as he scanned me, and I nodded, ignoring the soreness.

  “I’m fine,” I promised, pulling him close and pressing my lips to his. The soft touch erased the feel of Monty’s mouth against mine as Crew tenderly kissed me. The gentle kiss was a direct contrast to the rough horror of the last hours and tears seeped down my cheeks as he murmured, “I love you,” over and over, pressing kisses to my lips, cheeks, and eyes.

  The others were equally distracted as they reassured their spouses they were okay, and we finally broke apart to see Clutch standing there awkwardly, a redheaded chick next to him, her arms closed as she glared down at Monty.

  “Help me,” he moaned, holding up his hand, as blood and guts seeped out of him. The redhead lifted one heavy leather boot and proceeded to press down on the gory mess that was Monty’s stomach, listening to him scream until he cut off with a gurgle.

  She wiped her boot off on his pant leg, spinning away when another man tried to comfort her. “Not now,” she snapped, her eyes wild with grief. She stormed out of the club and the man nodded to me as he followed her.

  Several of the men cleared out of the building after they left, hauling the restrained men with them under Noah’s direction. Micah held a towel to Johnny’s head, the cloth quickly turning red as they applied pressure to the head wound.

  Crew kept his arm around me, not even giving me room to breathe as he held me close. Norah stood by the door, little Deacon on her hip, taking everything in as some of the other girls started to straighten tables and chairs. The slow thud of boots against the floorboards caused my head to turn and I saw a tall, black man standing there, an arrested expression on his face. My head swung to see what had caught his attention and when I saw the dazed expression on Norah’s face, it clicked.

  “Deacon,” I whispered, and Crew’s chest rumbled in agreement underneath my cheek. Tori heard my soft whisper and glanced over to see what I was talking about. Conversations died, the room growing quiet as we all eagerly watched the couple and a reunion that seemed impossible.

  He took a slow step forward, murmuring, “Norah?”

  “Deacon,” she breathed, joy quickly overtaking her shock, and she flew across the room. He spread his arms wide, picking them up and spinning her and his son around. The room erupted in happy cries as Johnny and the other guys thumped on the tables shouting, “Deacon.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Crew

  Two weeks later

  Happy shrieks filled the air as kids ran around with water guns and played on the bouncy house Johnny had insisted we buy for the occasion.

  A banner hung between two flag poles, proudly proclaiming, “1st Annual Southern Rebels Family Picnic” as the American and Confederate flag flew in representation of the Rebel logo. Three massive BBQ pits smoked racks of ribs and a whole hog as Clutch kept a watchful eye.

  Ginger, Knox and Pops sat near Johnny, making casual conversation as they considered our offer of becoming a brother club. Clutch had suggested it in the aftermath of Monty’s attack and we hoped they would agree. It would bring us a step closer in uniting our two clubs for the future.

  “I expect to see you in my shop next week for the grand opening,” Jean ordered, brining me to a halt as I leaned down to give her a hug. “You’re my first appointment.”

  “Am I?” I asked teasingly, knowing full well I was. It hadn’t taken long for Jean to find out I had a Viper on my back and she was dead set on fixing it.

  “Hell yes. That shit needs to be gone. I won’t have one of my boys walking around with a snake on his back,” she insisted, patting her now flat chest. “Tori’s gonna cover these scars as soon as it finishes healing.” She lowered her voice, “My daughter and grandson keep insisting I get flowers to cover the scars, but the good Lord knows that’ll never happen.” She grinned mischievously, “Tori suggested dragon scale plated armor instead.”

  “Badass, old woman,” I complimented and raised my hand, high fiving her. “You know, there’s someone I want you to meet,” I suggested, steering her over to where Pops sat, a beer in one hand and a cigar in the other. “I think you’ll have a lot in common.”

  I left her with them, Johnny shaking his head, looking even more ruthless than usual with half of his head shaved where they’d stitched closed the massive cut he’d gotten during the confrontation with Monty.

  Deacon bounced his son against his chest, eliciting a round of laughter, as I walked up to him. “Looks good on you, man,” I told him, smiling at little Deac.

  “I hear you’ll be experiencing it soon,” he replied, smiling widely as he made funny faces for his son’s amusement. I chuckled, the sound a little nervous, and Deacon shot me a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, just enjoy it.” He looked back down at his son. “Don’t miss a minute,” he added, his voice thick as he acknowledged all the missed moments. “I thought I was protecting her.” He shook his head. “I should have been standing beside her.” His smile wasn’t quite as broad but he never lost it. “I missed a lot, but I’m going to be here for everything else,” he promised his son, who giggled.

  “Where is your old lady?” I asked, and at the mention of Norah, his smile brightened. Honestly, I didn’t think he’d lost that smile since he’d been reunited with his family.

  “Bathroom,” he answered, turning to me. “I wanted to thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “Making it so I wouldn’t have to testify. Getting that target off my back.”

  I shook my head. “It wasn’t me. Drea did all that.”

  “Yeah, but you found the phone and put everything together. I can’t thank you and Drea enough.”

  “I’ll tell her,” I replied and then asked, “Did you call Norah that night?” He nodded, glancing down.

  “I did. I overheard them talking about Monty getting released and I panicked. I slipped one of their phones and called her.” He exhaled, his expression pained. �
�That was the hardest call I ever made.”

  “You didn’t tell her it was you,” I stated, impressed he’d managed not to reveal himself. “I don’t know if I could have done that.”

  “I wasn’t sure I’d ever make it home,” Deacon admitted. “They were talking about witness protection and that was if I ever got the chance to testify.” He shook his head. “I didn’t want to make it harder on her, ya know?”

  “I do,” I replied, hoping I’d never have to make a similar choice when it came to Drea and our kid. “You know there was one picture on there I couldn’t figure out.” He sent me a questioning glance. “Monty and the Chief,” I said and understanding dawned. “What were they doing?”

  “I don’t know. I wasn’t close enough to hear them, but the Chief gave Monty an envelope,” he hesitated, then leaned closer, “My guess? It was an envelope full of cash based on how thick it was.”

  I nodded, confirming, “The Chief was paying off Monty?”

  “Yup, I thought it was weird too,” Deacon mumbled, then shrugged. “But then, shit went to hell and I didn’t think about it again.”

  “The Chief worked with the DEA to get Monty released,” I told him. “Clearing him of any evidence tampering, but it sounds like the Chief has other secrets.”

  “I don’t know what they are,” Deacon declared. “I’m sorry I don’t know more.”

  “Nah, man. You’ve done more than enough for the club. It’s time you enjoyed your family. We’ll figure it out eventually,” I assured him confidently. “I’m just glad you’re back.”

  “Me too,” he replied, swinging Deac. “Me too.”

  I was walking away when he called out, “Hey, how did you know about my phone anyway?”

  I paused, frowning slightly. “I thought Norah left it for me.”

  Deacon shook his head. “She never knew about it. After I recorded the videos I got a new phone and swapped the SIM cards. I tossed the old one in the lost and found bin at the club.” He shrugged. “I thought it was better to not have it on me.”

  “It was sitting on your grave when I stopped by after Norah left. I’d always assumed she’d left it.”