by Madison Faye
“Rowan—”
“I know what I’m doing, Shepherd,” I growled thickly.
And I did. I knew that nothing else mattered but getting Lucy back and destroying the shitheads who’d taken her. Fuck “the rules.” Fuck the Bureau, and my career. None of it mattered. Not compared to getting Lucy back.
We pulled off the main road, and Oliver nodded at some blood splatter on the gravel maintainenance road.
“Looks like your mates found a sentry.”
In front of us, Ryker killed the lights on his Jeep, and the rest of us did the same, driving slow and quiet down the maintenance road towards the old airfield. Up ahead through the trees, we could see the lights from the old hanger. My phone buzzed, and I grunted as I yanked it out of my pocket and glanced at it.
Shit. It was Dante.
“Hey, boss.”
There was a second of silence before he exhaled slowly. Never a good sign.
“What did I fucking say, Rowan.”
I frowned. “About?”
“Don’t fuck around here, Rowan,” he growled. I knew Dante well enough to know this wasn’t just him being pissed at me. This was a bigger.
“I say lay low and leave Marcello’s guys alone! And what the fuck do you do?” He bellowed through the phone. “You fucking shoot four of them!”
“Dante, it’s not like I had a fucking choice,” I growled, frowning and trying to piece together how Dante had even heard that I’d clipped the four assholes.
“Did you know one of those guys had turned informant? Informant, Rowan! The son of a bitch didn’t die right away, in case you care. Managed to call in before we lost him.”
Shit. That’s how he’d known.
“Well then he probably shouldn’t have drawn down on a Federal fucking agent, Dante!” I spat back.
“Goddamn, Rowan,” Dante hissed. “I don’t have a choice here anymore.”
I frowned as Ryker gestured out of his window, and we all pulled quietly into the shadows of the trees on both sides of the gravel road.
“No choice for what, Dante.”
“You’re suspended, Agent Turner,” he grunted. “Indefinitely, pending internal review.”
My jaw clenched. “What?”
“Oh, come the fuck on, Rowan!” Dante roared. “This lone wolf bullshit of yours is not how the Bureau plays, and you fucking know it. So I need you to come in and turn in our shit.”
“When,” I muttered.
“An hour ago,” Dante growled. “What the fuck do you think I mean, Rowan? Right now!”
I shook my head, aware of Shep and Oliver glancing at me curiously. “Can’t do that right now. Look, Anthony’s guys are assembled in force, and they’re looking to kill—”
“Then it’s someone else’s shit, Rowan,” he growled. “And like I told you, they’re not to be touched. Not with this intel deal about to go through.”
“So, I should just let them fucking murder people?” I snarled. “That it, Dante?”
He sighed. “Report in. Now, Turner, or there’s gonna be troub—”
That’s when I hung up. That’s also the exact moment when I knew for sure I was done with the FBI—done with the bureaucracy, done with the red tape, and done with the bullshit. With a muttered swear, I opened the back of the phone and yanked out the sim card. I reached back and pulled my badge out of the holder on my belt and held it up. I glanced at it, and I knew there was no going back.
I turned, opened the window, and tossed the fucking thing out. Oliver and Shepherd glanced at each other and then turned back to me. Shep nodded.
“No going back now, is there?”
“Nope.”
I opened the backdoor to the truck and jumped down, the both of them following. We headed around to the back as the other guys started to head over too. With a rustling sound, Axe stepped out of the shadows, followed closely by a demonic looking Stone. Axe nodded at Ryker.
“They had four sentries. We’re good now. They’ve got Lucy tied up inside.”
Oliver swung the tailgate down, and before anyone said a thing, I was picking up one of the rocket launchers and slinging it over my shoulder. It was like tunnel vision, and all I knew was, these fuckers had my Lucy, and I was going to burn the fucking world down to get her back.
“So, we’re going to fan out, and we need a way to draw them out. On my mark—fuck, Rowan!”
Ryker hissed and swore as I just walked away, slinging the rocket launcher off my back and jamming one of the rounds into the barrel. I walked grim-faced towards the edge of the trees and brought it up to my shoulder again as the rest of them quickly followed.
“Dude,” Shep tapped my on the arm. “Maybe dial it back and we can—”
I squatted, aimed, and as Shepherd swore and jumped away, I fired. The rocket hissed like a comet through the night, and a quarter second later, it hit. Three black SUVs around the entrance to the hanger suddenly erupted in liquid fire, twisting up in the air and crashing back down in an explosive crash as the doors to the hanger slammed open. Marcello’s guys began to stream out, and I tossed the launcher away and grabbed my gun as I glanced at Shepherd and Axe standing next to me with a grim smile.
“That’s how we’ll draw them out.”
Axe grinned. “Let’s fucking do this.”
He, Shep, Oliver, Ryker, Stone, Jackie, Vlad, Braun, Austin, Dallas, Dane and I turned, tensed, roared, and bolted towards the fire.
And then it was on.
12
Lucy
After the roar of the first explosion, and the hail of bullets, and the roaring and screaming and wrenching of metal, it was all over. When the first thunderous boom came from outside, I’d screamed and yanked myself to the side, knocking the chair I was tied to over onto its side. When the mafia guys ran out like a bunch of morons to see what was going on, I’d kicked myself back into a corner, and that’s when the bullets started flying.
Not even five minutes later, it was all over.
Anthony Marcello’s “army” was really just a bunch of thuggish mob tough-guys. In bar fights, or when shaking down poker games, maybe they were a little tougher. But out there in the woods on Blackthorn Mountain, against a bunch of former bikers, military guys, and outlaws fighting for their very home and families, they went down like wet paper bags. When the first wave or two of them got mowed down outside, the rest of the Marcello guys threw their guns down and walked out with hand’s raised. And then it really was over.
I was halfway out of my own binds when Rowan came charging in, looking like some sort of feral beast with wild eyes and tensed muscles. But when he saw me, it was like the fury went out of him in a breath, and he was bounding right over to me. I gasped as his knife cut my other arm free, and then suddenly, I was in his arms, hugging him tightly and fiercely, like I never wanted to let him go.
And I had zero plans to do so.
“I got you,” he whispered, holding me tight and kissing my neck.
“I mean, I was almost out when you—”
“Such a stubborn little brat, you know that?” He chuckled.
“Yeah,” I grinned. “But that’s just one of the reasons you love me.”
His smile faded into something fiercer as he pulled close, taking my breath away as his lips brushed mine.
“Yeah, it is,” Rowan growled.
I bit my lip, blushing as the heat teased through me.
“You do, huh? Even after I ran off like a psycho?”
“Baby girl,” he growled lowly. “You could run off to fucking Mars, and I’d still come find you. I love you, Lucy.”
My heart melted as I flung my arms around him, hugging him close. And right before my lips crushed to his, I beamed as I looked into his eyes.
“I love you too, you know.”
“I guess if you didn’t,” he grinned. “You probably would have made it a little easier to find you. I mean that was a piece of—”
“Hey Rowan?” I purred, rolling my eyes.
; “Yeah?”
“Shut up and kiss me.”
He growled as he closed the last inch, his lips searing to mine and making my freaking toes curl as I melted into him.
Ryker ended up calling some semi-local police guys he was friendly with from Loggersville, a few towns over, to come deal with the rest of Marcello’s guys. Blackstone itself didn’t have a police force, and technically wasn’t even really a town, hence calling out. But the cops that did come knew Ryker and some of the other guys well enough to look the other way on the automatic weapons and rocket launchers and just see it for what it was: good, local people defending themselves from a bunch of city mobsters with long, long record sheets.
Anthony, sadly, wasn’t ever at the hanger, since he’d just sent his goon army to do the dirty work. So, for then at least, he was off the hook. Ryker and Axe managed to also take down all the whiteboard dossiers on everyone before their cop friends showed up, to avoid any strange questions later about what a mob army would want with a couple of bike shop and restaurant owners living peacefully out in the woods. The other plus side was that through these “hit list” sheets, everyone could see who’d offered to pay the Marcello’s for taking them out, which pointed back to all sorts of hidden demons from people’s pasts. But at least now, they could hit back.
* * *
A few hours after everything, we were all back at the garage, with some of the families coming to join. Katrina, Braun’s wife, about lost her shit when she saw the bandages on his ribs and shoulder.
“Baby, it’s really fine.”
“Don’t you ‘baby’ me!” she snapped, making me grin as I saw the pure love on her face for this man, but also the fear of what might have happened if things had been worse.
“I’m good, darlin’,” he growled as she hugged him gently.
“So, now what?” Stone muttered; his arms tight around Jackie—now with a freshly dressed bandage on the wound on her arm. Seeing them, I snuggled even closer against Rowan, and I smiled as I felt his arms tighten possessively around me.
Ryker nodded. “I’m guessing with pretty much all of his guys dead or being arrested and probably fucked now for an avalanche of parole violations, the Marcello family is going to quickly find itself not in any sort of power in Chicago. But I know some people I can put the word out with that we’re looking for Anthony. Then we can definitely bury this thing.”
Axe frowned. “What about this Mexico thing?”
“Bannon?” Ryker frowned. “We go get him, that’s what.”
“No.” Shepherd shook his head and stepped forward. “No, you’re not.”
“That so?” Stone growled dangerously.
“He’s right,” Rowan grunted. “You all have too much to lose up here. Look, I get wanting to go after one of your guys, but it’s not going to be a picnic down there. Definitely not as easy as gunning down a bunch of soft city mafia tough guys playing army in the woods. Jorge Del Campo and his cartel are serious fucking business, believe me.”
“Exactly,” Shepherd nodded. “Look, we’re gonna get your guy back, but we’re—” he pointed a finger at himself and them Oliver. “We’re gonna do it. We know the lay of the land down there, and we can get in without pulling out the fucking rocket launchers like Rambo here,” he nodded his chin at Rowan and winked.
Ryker, Axe, and Stone glanced at each other.
“Just the two of you, huh?” Ryker said quietly.
“Three.”
I frowned as turned to look up at Rowan.
“What?”
“You all helped me get her back,” Rowan said, his eyes dropping to lock with mine as he held me tight. “And now I’m going to help them get their missing one back.”
“And what’s the Bureau going to say about you crossing an international border to play shoot-out with a cartel?”
“I don’t actually know or care,” he grinned. “Because I think I just quit.”
My jaw dropped. “Hang on, what?”
“I’m done, baby,” he growled quietly. “Done with the bullshit and jumping through hoops just for the sake of jumping. I became a police officer and then joined the FBI to help—to stop bad things from happening to good people. Instead, it’s all paperwork, and connections, and politics, and letting bad guys walk free because they might know other bad guys. And I’m fucking done with it.”
He leaned in and kissed me slowly, leaving my heart racing as he pulled away and looked up at everyone else.
“So, yeah, it’s gonna be the three of us getting your guy out of there.”
Ryker shook his head. “We can’t ask you to—”
“You don’t have to ask, it’s happening,” Rowan growled back.
“Hold up.”
Stone gave Jackie a quick kiss on the cheek before he crossed the room to a closet door. Inside, he rustled through some old boxes before he suddenly stopped. He pulled something out and turned.
“Here. For Bannon, if it’s really him and if you can get to him.”
He held out a dark leather vest, and my eyes traced the image of a skull and roses on the back with the words “Lost Devils” stenciled above it. Rowan nodded and stepped forward to take it.
“Will do. You’ve got my word.”
Stone smiled. “You know, our club is done, but if it were still around, I know we’d be proud to call you—” he nodded at Rowan, Shepherd, and Oliver. “Our brothers.”
Rowan grinned back. “Appreciated.”
Shep shrugged. “Can I ask the million-dollar question?”
Ryker raised a brow. “What’s that?”
“Why do the Lost Devils have to be over? I mean, you three are alive.”
Rowan frowned at him. “Because kids, families?”
Axe smiled. “Basically. I mean there’s no reason it’s over, it’s just that the Lost Devils died years ago, and we’re all new guys with new lives.”
“So, the club could be not over.”
I turned to look at my brother, and so did the rest of the room. The three ex-members looked at each other for a solid minute, not saying anything, but somehow saying everything before they turned back. Slowly, Ryker grinned.
“Maybe we should talk.”
* * *
“You realize it’s going to be four of us going down there, right?”
Later on, Jackie and Stone gave Christian the night off, and everyone and their families headed to The Pines for some drinks and food. I stopped Rowan in his tracks in the parking lot though on our way in. He turned and raised a brow.
“Mexico? To go take something from a fucking Cartel boss?”
I glared at him, and slowly, he grinned.
“Of course, you are.”
I grinned as he walked over to me, snow falling slowly around us.
“Like I said, I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”
He reached behind him, and when his hand came back up dangling a jingling pair of handcuffs, I blushed furiously. Two truck doors shut, and I glared back to see Shepherd and Oliver walking across the parking lot to the restaurant. Shepherd grinned and nodded at the handcuffs as I groaned and hid my face.
“Yeah, I’m gonna pretend I never saw that.”
“Probably for the best,” Rowan chuckled.
Shepherd pantomimed sticking a finger down his throat. “Well, I’m going to go burn that thought out of my head with bourbon. See you in there.”
He and Oliver laughed as they stepped past us into The Pines.
“So, are you really doing this?” I whispered.
“Doing what?”
“Quitting the FBI? Crossing a border to go declare war on a cartel? I mean, that’s kind of outlaw.”
“Maybe I’m less law and more outlaw than I thought I was.”
I grinned as I pulled him close. “My my my. Did I finally turn you to the dark side, Mr. Turner?”
He chuckled. “I think it’s that I’m done being held back by bullshit. So, maybe not an outlaw, per se, just outside the law.�
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“But you’re going to be all badass and start riding a motorcycle and all of that, right?”
I smiled hungrily, and he spotted the look on my face instantly.
“Why, you lookin’ for a ride?”
“Um, yes,” I giggled. “With you? Fucking always.”
“I love you, you know,” he growled.
“I love you back, you know.”
I stood up on my toes as he leaned down and scooped me close, and our lips crushed hard together as I moaned eagerly. Soft, white snow floated down onto our hair and jackets, but we just kept on kissing.
After all, we had a lot of catching up to do.
Epilogue
Rowan
The bike roared, the engine thundering like Valhalla on wheels, and I grinned. I killed the throttle, letting the beast spin back down before I stepped away and smiled at the bike hooked up to the stationary track in the garage.
I’d been halfway decent with engines having grown up with Shepherd as my friend. But over the last few months, I’d gotten very good at it, and it was showing.
“It’s sounding pretty fucking good man,” Ryker grunted as he stepped forward.
“Purring like a fucking kitten, huh?”
“Yeah, a kitten who could tear your fucking face off.”
We were in the garage, but it wasn’t Mountain Steel Motors. It was the new one Ryker had helped us put together up at our new clubhouse—the same old hanger out at the airfield where we’d fought Marcello’s men. We’d built it up, added the garage, added some outbuildings, and some living quarters too, and now, it was basically ready.
I glanced up at the big skull and roses crest on the wall, and then glanced over to see Ryker doing the same.
“You know there’s always a spot for you, man. Fuck, Shep would probably even gladly give you the reigns.”
Ryker grinned and shook his head. “Nah, man. Appreciate it, but I’m all set just being your mechanic consultant.” He glanced up at the crest again though, and his smiled widened. “Fuck, I can’t even tell you how happy I am to see the Lost Devils flag flying proud again.”