by Brook Wilder
“You may have even heard that it was Finn that was behind the attack. Well, it’s true. He was.”
“Kill him!”
“Deal with him!”
The crew erupted again, shouting out their disgust and dissatisfaction and Jackrabbit let them rant for a long minute before raising his hand and calling for silence once more.
“Listen, we will stop Finn and whatever he might have planned for us. I know him. I know his weaknesses. And I know that together we can stop this son of a bitch for good! So keep your eyes open. Stay on guard. And remember to fucking look out for each other. We’re a family! We aren’t afraid of anything or anybody! We’re the god damned Roadburners!”
A loud cheer rang through the crowd again, this time all in support of him. Jackrabbit shook his head. He was always amazed the power that a few words could have to change men’s heart and minds. He’d seen it plenty of time fighting overseas. Men in battle needed leaders, and they needed leaders they could follow. They were about to head into one hell of a battle. They just didn’t know it yet.
The sounds of cheering were still going on, though slightly dimmer now. The tension that had choked the clubhouse before seemed to lift—if only slightly. Jackrabbit jumped off the chair to find Harlow waiting for him.
“That was good, what you said.” Harlow said, too softly for anyone to overhear. “You fooled them, but I can see that you’re still worried.”
Jackrabbit nodded again, not offended at the other man’s words. Harlow was good at reading the undercurrents of the situations. That was part of the reason why he made Harlow his second in command.
“A few words of encouragement might work for these guys but it doesn’t do a damn bit of good to me.” Jackrabbit gave him a pointed look. “I doubt it does for you either.”
Harlow shook his head. “No. I’m more of an action type.”
“You want action?” Jackrabbit leaned in close so he could speak under his breath, “Find Finn. And find out what the fuck he’s planning before one of us ends up dead.”
Harlow nodded slowly. Without another word, the two of them turned and left the clubhouse the same way they came in.
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SAMPLE: Broken
Chapter 1
Fuck! Finn fumed in silent disbelief as he set about tying Rachael’s– No, Hannah’s hands together. His thoughts whirled in chaos as he glanced up at her serious face. She looked back with a calm nonchalance that seemed out of place for having just been kidnapped.
At first, he’d suspected she was lying, just trying to save her own skin but a quick call to his second in command confirmed his worst fears. Rachael Donohue did in fact have a twin sister named Hannah. And now she was standing there, smirking at him in unconcern. Someone was going to pay for that fuck up and it wasn’t going to be pretty.
But what the hell was he going to do with her in the meantime? Finn rubbed a callused hand through his hair as he took a quick step back. But the distance didn’t seem to help, because now he could see her. All of her. From the unconcerned expression shouting at him from the depths of her gleaming green eyes, to the small sarcastic smile curving one corner of her ruby red mouth.
Finn nearly swore again at the turn of his thoughts. He needed to find another way to use her in his plan to get revenge on the Roadburners, and Jackrabbit and Hatchet in particular. What he didn’t need was to dwell on just how stunning she was or the way his nerve endings tingled where his hands had made contact with hers while tying her up.
“Fuck.” This time, Finn did bite out the epitaph out loud through a tensed jaw as he pulled the pistol out of the holster at his waist and gestured for her to start walking again. She stood there for a long moment, looking from him to the weapon held easily in his hand and back again before finally giving a slight nod. As if it was her own damn choice to be tied up and walking god knows where with an armed man.
They continued to trek across the rural Texas terrain. Finn made sure to stick mainly to the dense tree line that edged the dirt road, only moving across open field when he had to. He relied solely on his military training. As a sniper and surviving through two tours in the middle east, he’d learned a thing or two about how to move quickly on foot when he had to.
For what felt like the hundredth time in the last hour his eyes were drawn back to Hannah. She was walking stoically ahead of him, for all the world like she was on a leisurely hike rather than being forced ahead at gunpoint.
He shook his head, his thoughts tumbling haphazardly as he kept one eye on her and the other on the area around them. Even though he’d tried over the past hour, he couldn’t quite figure her out.
She had been completely silent as they walked, never asking him where they were going or how much longer they would have to walk or whether or not he was going to kill her or any of the thousand questions he imagined anyone else would be screaming at him right about now.
Finn was more than surprised by her calm, logical response to getting kidnapped at after a while he found an odd sort of respect growing for her.
She’s bad fucking news, Finn reminded himself fiercely. Don’t let her distract you. You are here on a mission. Get your revenge. Make the Roadburners pay. Make Hatchet and that son of a bitch Jackrabbit pay.
He was so lost in his own vitriolic thoughts that he nearly missed the sound of tires crunching on the dirt and gravel road. With a silent curse, Finn wrapped an arm around Hannah, pulling her tight against his body as he hid behind a large tree.
His hand over her mouth stalled any sound. He couldn’t risk her calling out for help, especially not after he peeked around the rough bark of the trunk and saw the state trooper logo on the side of the patroller. Shit. It was the cops. They were still swarming the area after the shootout at the Roadburners clubhouse.
Finn’s vision went red as he remembered. He and the rest of his small crew had spent the last months slowly drawing the noose tighter and tighter around those goddamn Roadburners only to have them walk straight into a trap.
Several of his men had been shot and then the cops had shown up, forcing him to flee right as he’d had Jackrabbit was in his crosshairs. It was just one more betrayal adding fuel to the fire that raged inside him. The fire that wouldn’t be satisfied until the Roadburners were done for good. It was the least they deserved.
While they hid there, Hannah’s back pressed close against his front two more police cars crept by, obviously on the lookout for him or any other member of the M60’s still in the area. Little did they know that Finn had prepared a bolt hole a few counties over just in case things went south. His time in the military had taught him to always have an out.
The rest of the crew, or what was left of them anyways, had orders to go directly there and wait for his next order. It was an old abandoned mining shaft that had been built in the perfect hiding space, far enough away from any town to not be noticed and out of use for several decades. They had converted it into their base of operations and Finn knew it was still secure.
After a long moment with no more traffic on the road, Finn finally allowed himself to relax his hold on Hannah but he felt a pang of regret as she stepped away. She shot him a questioning look, one dark eyebrow raised but didn’t say a word until he did.
Finn stared right back, “Listen princess, this place is swarming with pigs. We have to keep moving. Get farther away from the road.”
“I realize that you already know this, but I just need to reiterate the futility of your plan. My father is the sheriff of all of Mayville county,” Hannah said, the tone in her voice turning lecturing as she spoke, “That means that a, he probably realized that I’m missing. B, he’s contacted every local trooper, and c, they’re all looking for me.”
&n
bsp; She shook her head before continuing, “There’s no way you’ll get away with this.”
“You’d be surprised by just how much I can get away with, princess,” Finn said, a sarcastic snarl on his lips, “More than you realize. Those cops are fucking blind. They’ll never see us. Now, get moving, and not a god damn sound, got it? You call out or scream or any of that shit and I’ll use this.” Finn nodded to the pistol once more holstered at his hip.
Hannah gave him another one of her long, unnerving looks before nodding once more. She turned and started back on the overgrown ATV path they’d been on for the past few hours, walking on without another word.
The afternoon sun was settling into the branches of the trees overhead as evening began to fall when Hannah tripped a few feet in front of him. Finn was there to catch her before she’d even hit the ground. He’d known the moment she started to fall because for the last three hours he’d been watching her a hell of a lot more than he’d been watching the terrain around them. His mistake, he knew. But even still, he was glad of it as he hauled her back up until she was standing.
“You alright?” Finn asked gruffly. Caring didn’t exactly come easy to him.
“Yes, I’m fine thank you very much,” Hannah shot back tersely and he nearly let her go and turned away in anger at her curt words but then he noticed what she was looking at. His own gray gaze travelled downward until he saw her feet, one scraped by the fallen log she’d tripped on. Her bare feet.
“What the–.” Finn bit out, “You’re not wearing shoes.”
“And the prize goes to the most observant man in central Texas.” Hannah said, her tone just as flat as his, “Turns out being kidnapped and forced out of one’s home at gun point doesn’t give one a lot of time to stop and put on appropriate footwear.”
A pang of unfamiliar guilt hit Finn somewhere near the vicinity of his solar plexus. He glanced around him at the dense forest they’d been trekking through and then up at the sun that was beginning to set.
“Fuck it,” Finn growled angrily. He wasn’t sure if the emotion was directed at himself or the confounded woman he’d mistakenly kidnapped, “We can’t go any further today. Not with the cops on our asses. We’ll camp here tonight.”
He watched Hannah look around before turning back to him, that damned eyebrow of hers raised in question. “Where exactly?”
Finn snorted, “Right here,” He pointed to the leaf covered ground in front of one of the big trees providing their cover, “You got a problem with that princess?”
“No,” Hannah said shortly, proving her word as she walked over to the exact spot he’d just pointed at and dropped to the hard ground with a soft huff. Finn winced to himself as he noticed the slight limp in her step but that didn’t stop him from kneeling next to her.
He fumbled at the length of rope binding her hands together, trying to ignore her nearness as he reached across her body to secure it to the trunk of the tree she was leaning back against. Damn but she smelled good. Even after hiking across the rough terrain all day, bare foot no less, she still smelled fresh and sweet, like lavender and sunshine.
Finn halted himself mid thought. He had too much at stake to let himself get distracted by a fucking female. He opened his mouth to snarl something but that close, their faces just a few inches apart and for a second he completely forgot what he was going to say. He was so close that he saw the moment her emerald green eyes dilated, filling with something warm and surprising. He could feel the sharp intake of breath as she gasped.
The air between them was suddenly heavy with tension and adrenaline and for a moment he nearly gave in to the electric charge shooting like lighting between them. For a second he nearly forgot the reason he was forced to sleep outside in the middle of a god damned forest in the first place.
He glared down at her as a rush of anger and memories filled him. At himself. At her. But most of all at Jackrabbit and Hatchet, the long familiar rage that had kept his need for revenge burning all these years. Finn’s voice hardened as he spoke.
“There’s no point in trying to escape.” He growled, his gaze locked onto hers as he forced himself to lean back. “If you scream, I’ll gag you. If you run, I’ll chase you. And you won’t like it when I catch you, got it?”
Finn didn’t wait to hear her answer before jumping to his feet and stalking to another tree a few feet away. As he laid down, resting his head back against the rough bark, all he could see was Hannah’s wide-eyed expression flashing through his mind. It’s just the adrenaline, Finn told himself, trying to explain away the vicious desire stabbing through him. That’s all it is. It’s just the stress getting to you, fucking with your head. You have to stay focused if you’re finally going to get your revenge.
Don’t worry, Finn answered silently, his resolve firming as he forced himself to remember and the anger that was always just below the surface began to boil even harder, they’ll pay. They’ll all pay.
Chapter 2
In a far off, distant part of his brain, Finn knew he was dreaming. That didn’t make the desert sand coating his mouth until he couldn’t swallow or the fear pumping through his veins as gunfire filled the smoky air feel any less real.
Finn could feel his hands shaking and he looked down to see the M4 clutched white-knuckled in his fingers. A blast shook the ground and it was close. Too fucking close. He flicked his gaze back up, wide eyed, trying to take in everything at once.
He was hiding in some sort of make-shift bunker, rusted corrugated steel siding was falling off the crumbling frame. It wasn’t much and it sure as hell wouldn’t survive another blast but at the moment it was all he had. The only thing keeping him from being riddled with enemy bullets.
Finn shook his head, swiping at his sweat soaked forehead as the beads rolled into his eyes, blinding him. He blinked hard, trying to clear his vision. His thoughts churned chaotically as he tried to figure out just when the fuck their simple, straight forward mission had gone south.
He was pinned down behind a metal barrel that had more holes in it than not. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t get to the rest of his unit. He was good and fucking trapped.
Panic so thick he could taste the coppery taste of it in his mouth filled him at the thought. A memory rose up from so long ago he was surprised he still remembered but he could see it clearly in his mind.
Finn had grown up in Montana. He’d run around half naked as a child, nearly feral as he wandered the forests and valleys that surrounded his granddad’s ranch. He’d lost his mother, Lisa, to cancer when he was just three, too young to remember. And then he’d lost his father a few years later to alcohol, and eventually the bullet he’d used to take his own life.
His granddad Henry always said that his father had just loved Lisa too much and that in the end, he couldn’t bear to spend another second in the world without her. It had sounded like bullshit to Finn then, and it still did now.
But Finn remembered. He’d been six years old and uncomfortable in the itchy black suit his granddad had made him wear to the service. He swore it had been so starched he could barely move in it. He had there on the grassy hill as the preacher spoke and the few people who knew William Walker looked solemnly at the hole in the ground where they were going to put his father.
He didn’t remember much else about the service, except for the sun that seemed to shine too brightly and the birds that sang too loud. And the anger. He remembered that too. Silently, he’d raged at the sun and the birds. At the stupid suit. He’d gotten so angry that he’d torn all the buttons off the jacket trying to get it off before running off through the cemetery into the trees that surrounded it.
He’d ran and ran until his feet were blistered and bleeding, not noticing the tears streaming down his face or where he was going. He just knew he had to get away. As far away as he could, so he could breathe again.
Six year old Finn had gotten lost in those woods. Afternoon faded into evening, and then twilight and still he couldn’t find his way back.
The forest grew black and shadow monsters seemed to creep all around him. He’d felt the same paralyzing panic then as he did now.
It had been four more hours before the search party his granddad had put together found him, huddled and terrified against an old tree. Grandpa Henry hadn’t said a word. He didn’t yell at him or hand him over to a foster home for causing trouble like Finn had thought he would. He just took Finn’s hand and led him inside the old, outdated farmhouse and sat him at the kitchen table.
A moment later, his granddad was sliding a plate of warm food in front of him before taking one for himself. They sat there eating in silence and they never talked about the night Finn got lost in the woods.
Another rapid round of gunfire pierced through the memory and Finn shook his head and the vision faded only to be replaced by the blaring sun and clouds of dust rising in the air around the small, shack filled village. His Granddad wasn’t going to save him now. The old man had been dead for nearly twelve years. No one was going to save him.