Wyatt checks his phone. “Her car has been spotted. Ganza, head into the bathroom and keep the door ajar. I’m in the closet while keeping it open so I can hear and see everything.” His eyes hit mine. “You got this, brother?”
“With you guys having my back? Always VP,” I grunt in return.
Wyatt disappears into the closet and I watch how Zuri parks her car. I shoot her a quick text with the room number. She gets out of the car, checks her phone and smiles. Yeah, she doesn’t have a clue it’s about to be the last time she will plaster one of those on her face for a long damn time.
Zuri pulls at the hem of her barely-ass-covering red skirt before she starts to strut my way. I open the door and make sure I’m standing in the middle of the room to have enough space around me for whatever is going to happen in the next few minutes.
“Archer,” she purrs with her fire engine red lips.
She closes the door behind her and throws her purse on the ground. Zuri starts to unbutton her blouse, letting it slide off her shoulders. She moves her arms back to take off the blouse, making it way too damn easy for me to step forward, wrap my hand around her throat before I shove her back against the door. In a fraction of a second her gaze goes from pure lust to surprise and ultimately fear.
“Over thirteen fucking months you’ve managed to live free while my brother rots in the ground. You fucking whore. He gave you his heart and soul and you fucking betrayed him. Money. Cock. Everything you indulge in I’m going to take from you and make sure the time you have left in this world will be there for you to suffocate in haunting memories what once was your petty life.”
“Please, Archer,” she chokes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t understand. Please.”
“Save your fucking lies, bitch. My wife found every email you sent, every case you put your name on, and every damn life you took with Sven and Woolerton as your partners in crime to make sure you had everything your heart desired.” I inch my face closer and whisper in a deadly tone, “I not only despise you, I fucking hate you enough to rip open your chest right here and now to see if you bleed like a woman or if you are in fact dead inside with the shit tainting your black soul.”
Fat tears fall over her cheeks but they mean shit.
“Where’s Sven? I know he called you when he shot Woolerton,” I demand.
She shakes her head. “Please, I don’t know. Archer, I swear I don’t have anything to do with Galen’s death. It was all Sven. He’s been threatening me and Woolerton. We didn’t have a choice. Please.”
In one rough twist of my arm I have her flying from the door to a crumbled heap on the floor. Wyatt steps out of the closet and snatches Zuri’s purse off the floor. Ganza appears from the bathroom, holding Zuri at gunpoint.
“Did you not fucking hear me? The fun is over, you’re going to do hard time where I’m going to make sure every prisoner around you knows you put a lot of them in there. If you were a man, I would torture you for a few hours and watch the life slowly drain from your body before I take pleasure in killing you, preventing you from dying on your own.”
“I won’t go to jail,” Zuri says as if she fucking believes the shit she’s saying. “Sven made sure nothing would blow back on me and your MC already has been under investigation. I’ve put more criminals behind bars than all of you together. And the emails you talk about don’t exist. You made them up. All lies. I’m sure your wife told you about them, am I right? Is she the one whispering all those lies into your ear?” Her gaze goes to Wyatt. “It’s his old lady who wants me gone: you have to believe me. You know me, Wyatt. I would never harm Galen. I loved him. I thought Archer finally knew how his wife has been harassing me for quite some time now. It’s why I came here. I’m the one telling the truth, you have to believe me.”
Our phones go off and it’s as if someone sent all of us a text simultaneously. Seeing we’re right in the middle of something–and knowing we all got one at the same time–we handle the situation at hand first.
Ganza snorts and gives a little shake of his gun while he keeps it pointed at Zuri. “Did she really just go from incriminating Sven, dragging our MC through the mud, to playing the innocent while blaming everything on your wife?”
“I don’t even know what Galen saw in you but even his memory deserves more than the filthy carpet your lying ass is sitting on. Get the hell up so we can drag you to your new hellhole, ‘cause, bitch? There’s a jail cell with your name on it,” Wyatt says and grabs her upper arm to drag her up.
Pax comes running into the hotel room. “Did you guys get the text? None of us can make sense of it.”
I grab my phone and check the message. It’s not so much a message, only a blurry photo. And it does make fucking sense to me.
“It’s Bee, Sven is at the clubhouse,” I say with a painful jab searing through my heart.
Zuri laughs. “You didn’t think I wouldn’t have some kind of bargaining chip handy in case you pull something like this? You disappoint me, Archer. It was the same with Galen. When he confronted me, I cried and told him to talk with Sven because his partner was behind it all and that idiot went to meet him. In a freaking alley. Stupid as the day he was born and it ended with a bullet in his brain.”
“Take her away,” I snap and head for my bike, praying this day doesn’t end with Bee getting a bullet in her brain.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
– BEATRICE –
My nerves are screaming through my veins but I try with all my might to keep my attention on making food. The sauce is done and so is the spaghetti. I’ve turned off the stove and decide to make some garlic bread from scratch.
That’s something I can do; keeping my hands busy. Since this waiting is making me crazy and there’s nothing to be done for me to have any say on the future. Archer is out there, risking his life, along with everyone else. For all we know Zuri has a few other men wrapped around her finger or hell, a gun to fire off a few crucial rounds when she finds out Archer isn’t there for a booty call but to put her ass in jail instead.
I take a deep breath and a large knife to crush the garlic before chopping it up. I love the fresh smell. I know some don’t, and the strong scent will stick to your fingers for hours. Okay, that was a few seconds without thinking of Archer and the rest of the guys. The knife clatters against the counter when I hear a sound coming from the back.
I squeeze my brain for some quick information. There are two prospects outside. The gate is fixed, and there isn’t anyone here; just me. I saw Cora heading out through the backyard earlier, did she get back in and slam the door?
I know some of the older generation old ladies are in their house, and they do sometimes stroll into the clubhouse through the back…but why would they when they know everyone is out.
Silence is all that greets me when I stay frozen to hear if there are any footsteps or the sound of a door or whatever, but there’s nothing. It must have been some of the tools or something else that fell down. Grabbing my phone, I decide to snap a quick picture of the food and throw it in the group chat.
I have a few group chats, one with all the old ladies, one with most members of Areion Fury MC, one with all of Broken Deeds MC members, and one with my parents. Mindlessly I thumb through my groups and click on one at the same time I hear someone clear his throat.
I quickly snap a picture and hit send–praying it goes through–and someone will come in time to help. Because I’m staring at Sven pointing a gun in my face and I have a feeling the next moment is going to drastically change my life.
“Sven, what brings you by? Didn’t your mother tell you pointing a gun at a lady isn’t a nice way to say hello?” I try to let it come out calmly, but my voice carries a hint of a snap because in this moment no emotion can break me away from this dangerous situation.
And to be honest? I’m pissed. Pissed at the situation. Pissed to find myself in the crossfire of danger three times on one day and I feel like I have nothing to lose or prove I belong i
n this fucked up world. But it’s my world, dammit. Mine.
One where my daughter needs me and where I want to see her grow into a strong woman to raise children of her own. One where I want to be able to yell at my husband for working too hard or tell him how damn much I love him. Or simply be pissed because I’m having a bad day.
But this day has passed the point of taking a ride in the backseat of the devil himself; I’m taking over the wheel and set my mind on the road ahead, crash or burn…safe and comfortable seems to be out of my league, it’s time to add a little havoc for the sake of balance.
“My mother is dead and so will you be if Archer touches Zuri. You’re a problem that needs to be fixed, just like Cora was,” Sven snaps.
Just like Cora was. Was. Past sentence. He killed her? Swallowing the need to panic, I take a deep breath and try to get a grip on the situation.
“Archer won’t touch Zuri,” I calmly state and wrap my fingers around the knife. Instead of pointing it at Sven I place the point at the palm of my hand and softly turn it, kinda shyly as I tilt my head and explain to Sven, “You see, when a man has a woman at home, one who respects and loves him, supports the effort he puts in the load of work, and tasks his life consists of…no matter how shitty life gets…he won’t piss outside of the pot.” I wave the knife in his direction, making his hand slightly falter as he braces himself to think fast if he needs to shoot or not.
Interesting. Why the hesitation when he clearly threw out the “problem that needs to be fixed” statement?
“When there’s love you learn to see with your heart instead of with your eyes. It also makes you aware of darkness. Because this world is filled with ugliness and hurt, Sven. But you know all about this, don’t you? Smiling at the wisdom you made up in your head to justify the killings you and Woolerton did. Tell me, was it all you guys, or did Zuri–”
“Stop fucking talking bullshit,” Sven growls and takes a step closer.
The gun is wavering and it’s as if this guy is high on drugs or balancing on a thin line between insanity and blowing up in anger.
“You love her, don’t you?” I suddenly realize. “You even know she’s playing you and still you follow her orders like a lovesick puppy.”
“Shut up. You don’t know anything about love. You have a man who rushes off to another woman whenever she asks him to come over. The bullshit with seeing with your heart you just mentioned is your blindness not to see your man who is cheating on you.”
Ouch. If I wasn’t certain of my man’s intentions that would definitely hurt or spread doubt. I notice the bottle of tequila Lynn must have left on the counter since it’s her favorite brand.
I point at the bottle with my knife since I’m still holding it. “Do you mind? I mean if we have some time to kill instead of you killing me.”
“Go on,” he says as he lowers the gun slightly so he’s now aiming at my chest.
I reach for the bottle and with the knife in one hand and the Tequila in the other it’s kinda hard to open it and take a sip. Knowing I’m in a bad situation with no way out–kinda like being surrounded by fire–I might as well light a match, right? Insanity makes sense when reason walked out the door when your life has been in the balance three times in one day.
“Can you hold this?” I question and hold the hilt of the knife between my thumb and finger.
Be brave, I mentally tell myself. I can barely breathe as a picture of Archer and Queenie flashes before my eyes. If I was ever lost in this world these two will always be where I would be found.
I love you, Archer and Queenie. The words are loud when my ears ring with the sound of a gun when I flip the knife in my hand and drive it through Sven’s belly at the same time I slam the gun from his hand with the bottle of Tequila. But not before the gun fires again.
Pain rips through my body but I regain focus enough to have the strength to pull out the knife and like my father always taught me; don’t stop the assault until your opponent is either knocked out or not breathing.
Knowing my body is slower than my mind and somehow isn’t fully cooperating I swing my arm up and try to hit Sven in the throat, hoping to hit an artery but he manages to block my attempt.
His curses fall around me when my ass hits the floor. I try to get up but Sven punches me right in the face. I try to get up and my hand hits something metal and solid. His gun. My heart thumps loud in my ears, darkness closes in and I barely manage to lift my arm and squeeze the trigger.
Once. Twice. I need to focus. Where is he? Why is everything spinning. Dark. Pain. I can’t…I’m not…I’m…lost as I fall into oblivion.
– ARCHER –
I went way over the speed limit to get here as soon as I could, and I realize I might be too late. I lost the van with my brothers two intersections ago because I didn’t stop. Hitting the kickstand, I jump off my bike and head for the clubhouse while I palm my gun.
The first thing hitting my nose is the smell of blood and it makes my heart slam against my ribs, but when I rush around the corner and step into the kitchen? That’s the moment my heart shatters beyond repair.
Blood. Everywhere. The whole floor is crimson and there’s no one else except Bee’s lifeless body. She’s sagged into herself at an odd angle and there’s no way she would have laid down like that if she was conscious.
The way blood is soaking her chest along with the holes in her shirt gives me the knowledge she took two bullets. I’m afraid to check and my feet are frozen to the floor. I am unable to move or check on her because the reality of standing in this world without having the woman I love right beside me is unbearable.
“Archer,” Wyatt bellows behind me and I hear his boots hit the floor as he comes closer and slides to a stop beside me.
“Fuck, no,” he gasps in agony. “No, no, no.” He rushes forward and does what my mind knows I should do but my heart is refusing to let my body move.
Wyatt takes his phone, rattles off words and spreads Bee out while he checks her over.
“Brother…is she…she’s–” I croak. “Tell me.”
“It’s faint but she has a pulse.”
Those few words jolt me into action and I grab fresh towels from the cabinet and press them down on her wounds. There’s one in her lower belly and one in her chest.
“Fuck,” Wyatt snaps and I see his fingers slide away from her neck where he was checking her pulse. “Move.”
He bats my hand away and starts compressions. My ears ring and the way my chest constricts I might as well be the one receiving the pumps to kick my heart back into gear. EMTs rush into the kitchen and both me and Wyatt make way to give them room.
The moment I see from a distance how she’s flatlining and those guys work on her body to bring her back is when I need a breath of air to handle my world falling apart. I head out the back and come to a stop in the yard where I bury my hands into my hair and let my gaze hit the heavens above.
Fucking hell. Up there is what I had right here. My slice of heaven here on Earth. My fucking personal heaven where I made work priority and came home late to the one person sleeping who I’d love to spent time with. My woman. The mother of my child and the one who filled my heart to the brim.
A scream tears from my throat in agony until anger takes over. I refuse to have her taken from me. So fucking innocent and pure. She’s my fucking everything. My rock in the havoc our lives consist of.
I spin on my heel and take a determined step toward the clubhouse but freeze in place when I notice a blood trail. Leaning closer I take note of the drops and can tell in which direction they’re going in.
I palm my gun once again and slowly follow the blood into the bushes at the edge of the property. Cora is lying in the bushes, her neck at an odd angle letting me know it’s snapped for sure. That’s how the bastard made his way into the clubhouse, the bitch helped him and paid for it with her life. Serves her fucking right.
Slight movement from the corner of my eye snags my attention. Sagged bet
ween the side of the building and the bushes is Sven. Utter fury overtakes me and I hit the fucker on the side of his head with my gun.
He grunts and the only thought entering my brain is the knowledge this asshole is still alive while my wife’s lifeless body is inside. By. His. Hand. Cora might have let him inside, but I will make sure he won’t ever fucking leave the property while he’s still breathing.
Shoving the gun in its holster I grab Sven’s shirt and drag him further into the yard. Once there I grab his shirt and curl my hand into a fist and slam hard against his head. The fucker moans and has the nerve to beg me. His eyes open and he starts to struggle against my grip.
At this moment there is no case, justice, or reason. All is lost and there’s only the sound of flesh hitting flesh to make up for the loss of a beating heart. I’ll take his thumping heartbeat after another with my fist for my wife deserves to live instead of this killer.
But there is no justice and perfection in this fucked-up world. There’s only chaos we muddle through while my woman was the eye of the fucking storm to calm the darkness I face every damn day.
There’s pulling at my body while my arms feel heavy from throwing punch after punch. I growl at the ones who are holding me back. I’m not done beating the life out of this piece of shit.
“Archer, fucking stop,” Wyatt grunts and I realize he’s the one holding me along with Vachs.
“He’s pulp. You got him, Prez. Now you need to head to the hospital. Your old lady needs you,” Vachs says as his hands fall from my body.
“She’s–” I start but I can’t even get the words to fall from my lips.
“Holding on. Her heart was beating when they put her in the ambulance. I’ll handle shit here. Vachs can you get him to the hospital?”
“I’ll handle this fucker, VP,” Vachs grunts. “Just let me know if I’m burying him or going through the authorities. I vote for ripping him apart. The piece of shit doesn’t deserve a proper burial.”
Broken Deeds MC: Second Generation #1 Page 11