From the corner of his eye, Chains saw several brothers rushing out from the adobe, after that it started raining bullets.
Eric pushed against Chains, and the biker loosened his grip, letting the scum think he was getting away. All around him was a downpour of gunfire, and bodies hit the ground with a thud. Bikers and gangsters ran in every direction in a storm of movement and noise.
Chains grabbed Eric by the neck and pulled him back, then pounded his head against the car window, shattering it.
“I have the money,” he said, his voice high and thin with panic.
The image of Eagle—one of his best friends—getting shot by this fucker filled Chains’s mind. He stepped back, aimed the gun at Eric, and pulled the trigger. Eric’s eyes widened as he grabbed his belly. Blood squeezed through his fingers as he took a few stumbled steps, then collapsed on the cold, hard ground. The red pool underneath the downed man’s body slowly spread around him.
Chains heard an engine start up and saw one of the SUVs hauling ass out of there. Paco, Diablo, and Knuckles chased after it, shooting at the tires. Chains dashed over to Eagle and saw that his eyes were closed and his chest was slowly moving up and down.
“Eagle!” Chains caught his friend’s face between his fingers and shook it hard. “Look at me, bro.”
Eagle’s eyes fluttered open, and he stared vacantly at Chains.
“Don’t fuckin’ die on me. This isn’t your time. Stay with me, bro.” He kept lightly patting his face.
“How bad is he?” Paco asked.
Chains looked up. “Pretty fucked up. He took two bullets—I think they were both in the chest.”
“Doc won’t be able to fix this. He needs a hospital.” Paco ran his fingers through his hair. “Fuck! We should’ve killed the bastards the minute they came into the house. Fuck!”
“Don’t blame yourself for this. We all knew the risks.” Chains glanced back at Eagle and his heart squeezed. “I’ll get Crow and we’ll take him to the hospital.”
“Go on—I’ll make sure we clean up this fucking mess around here,” Paco said, clasping his hand on Chains’s shoulder.
Five minutes later, Crow was burning rubber on the backroads, only slowing down when they reached Alina. The last thing they wanted was some damn badge to pull them over and start asking a ton of questions.
Chains jumped out of the car before Crow had completely stopped it. He rushed into the ER and said, “My friend’s been shot.”
Immediately the nurses, doctors, and techs sprang into action, and within no time, Eagle was laid out on a stretcher and rushed through the wooden double doors. Chains paced for several minutes before going up to the front desk.
“I need to know what’s going on with my brother,” he said to the woman behind the counter.
“You’re his relative?”
“Yeah.”
“What insurance does he have?”
“He’s been shot and you’re asking me about the fuckin’ insurance?”
The curly-haired woman pushed her large-framed glasses up her nose with her index finger and smiled.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound like I’m not sympathetic because I am. It’s just hospital policy to ask.”
“No insurance—private pay.”
For the next twenty minutes, Chains gave the woman all of Eagle’s personal information. The mechanics of it were almost a relief because it kept him from thinking about the real possibility of his friend dying.
“We’re all done. I’ll check on the status of your brother,” the intake woman said.
Chains turned away from the desk and walked over to Crow, who sat hunched in a chair near a muted television set, staring blankly at the screen.
“I checked these fuckers out,” Chains said as he sank down next to Crow.
“Don’t own this shit, dude. You did what Steel asked and more. We all voted to go forward with this. Bad drug deals happen—you know that,” Crow replied in a low voice.
“But … Eagle. Fuck!” Chains pounded the armrest, then leaped up from the chair and started to pace.
“You—we—didn’t know it was gonna go down like that,” Crow said.
“Eagle had a bad feeling ’bout tonight.” He blew out a breath, scrubbing his hands over his face. “So did I.”
“Me too.” Crow stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankles. “We all did.”
“We should’ve been no shows. Fuck.” He glanced over at the double doors. “I wonder what the hell’s going on in there.”
“I’d say the docs are trying to save our brother’s life,” Crow replied, his face a mask of glumness.
A blast of cold air rushed into the room, and he turned to look at the front glass doors just as Steel, Sangre, and Scorpio hurried over.
“How’s Eagle?” Steel asked, concern etched across his face.
Chains shrugged. “Haven’t heard anything yet. He was hurt pretty bad.”
“Fuck,” Steel muttered. “What the hell happened?”
“A bad deal—the fuckers double-crossed us,” Crow mumbled as he continued to stare at the blank television screen.
“How the fuck didn’t I predict this?” Steel said.
“It’s the fuckers’ fault—not the Night Rebels,” Scorpio said before flopping onto one of the chairs.
“The damn badges will be here for sure. We got our story straight?” Sangre asked.
Chains nodded. “I told the doc that Eagle was out riding and someone shot him. I said Crow and I went looking for him when he never came back, and we found him on the side of the road.”
“It’s kinda weak, but we’ll have to go with it.” Steel locked gazes with Chains. “How’re you doing? You two have been real tight ever since you prospected together.”
He averted his eyes to the leaf-patterned carpet. “It fuckin’ sucks.”
Steel put his arm around Chains and gripped his shoulder. “Life fucking sucks sometimes.”
“A lot of the time,” Scorpio added.
“We cut outta there damn fast. Were any other brothers hurt?” Crow asked.
“Just minor shit—Doc Bones is patching up Aztec, Brick, and Shotgun. Nothing too serious. Paco said that there were casualties on the other side. They’re taking care of all that shit. I thought this would’ve gone down all right, considering we were dealing with an old man who belongs to a fucking country club.” Steel shook his head.
“The old man sent his fuckin’ son. I don’t know why, but somehow Los Malos got mixed up in this. We’re definitely gonna hear from them—some of their members were on the ground and not moving when Crow and I took off,” Chains said.
“Why the fuck were those asshole gangsters involved in this deal?” Scorpio said.
Chains shrugged. “Who the fuck knows. I think the asshole’s son wanted protection. He didn’t seem to trust us from the start. Maybe the family’s done business with Los Malos before, although that didn’t come up when I did the due diligence stuff.”
“And what happened to the motherfucker who did this to Eagle?” Sangre asked.
Chains crossed his arms against his chest. “I took care of him. He won’t be doing any more drug deals.”
Satisfied murmurs and grunts resounded from the bikers, then they lapsed into an anxious silence as they waited for any word on Eagle’s condition.
The minutes turned into hours. The badges had come and gone, and no one was left in the reception area except for the Night Rebels and a redhead with frizzy hair who had replaced the curly-haired intake worker. Finally the wooden doors opened, and a man in his mid-fifties, wearing green scrubs, approached the group.
“Chains?” the man said, a puzzled expression crossing his face.
Chains walked over. “Yo. Are you the doc?”
“Yes. Are you Mr. Mitchell’s brother?”
“Yeah. What’s going on with him?”
The doctor glanced over at the other men who were fast approaching.
“It’s cool,�
� Chains said, gesturing to the guys. “They’re here for Eagle, too, and need to hear this.”
The doctor slowly nodded. “I’m Dr. Chester, and I was the surgeon for your brother. He’s stable right now. He took two bullets, and he’s very lucky to still be alive. One of the bullets that I removed was embedded against the sternum—the breast bone—and only caused minor damage. The other one entered his left lung, and that was the one which caused the most problems. He’s very lucky that he didn’t die from severe bleeding into the lung. I was able to remove the bullet, control the bleeding, and repair it. The biggest risk is infection, so I have him on an IV antibiotic treatment. It was good that you brought him in as quickly as you did.” The doctor clasped the clipboard against his chest. “That saved his life.”
A mountain of relief washed over Chains, and from the sighs and throat clearings, he knew the other members felt it too.
“How long is he gonna be laid up?” he asked the surgeon.
“I’d like to keep him here for ten days. It’s the infection that I’m mostly concerned about at this point. After that, he can go home, but it’ll take a couple of months to fully recover.”
“When can we see him?” Steel asked.
“He’s still in recovery. It’ll probably be another hour at least and then he’ll be moved to a room. I’m keeping him sedated through the night. It may be better to come back in the morning, but it’s your choice. Are there any more questions?” The men shook their heads. “All right, then.” Dr. Chester turned around and disappeared behind the wooden doors.
“I’m gonna wait,” Chains said, shoving his hands into his leather jacket.
“You tell us if anything comes up, okay?” Steel said. “We’re going to head to the adobe and see if we can help out with the cleanup.”
“I bet the fuckers never had any of the money,” Sangre said.
“They brought half of it—one point two million. Paco got it. The sonsofbitches never had any intention of paying the whole amount,” Steel said.
“Who the fuck did they think they were dealing with?” Scorpio asked.
“Los Malos probably fed them some bullshit. Those fuckin’ punks didn’t expect what they got from us. They even hightailed it and ran away.” Chains kicked the bottom of the counter with the toe of his boot.
“Nothing but a bunch of pussies,” Crow said, disgust lacing his voice.
“We’ll discuss this in church tomorrow. We gotta go now,” Steel said.
Scorpio clasped a hand on Chains’s shoulder. “Glad Eagle’s okay, dude.”
Chains lifted his chin and watched his friends walk away. He rubbed the back of his neck as he went over to the vending machine. Taking out a dollar, he inserted it into the slot. A cardboard cup plopped down in a metal vise and black liquid streamed into it. He pushed the button for cream and watched as it dripped down into the coffee. With his cup in hand, he walked over to the chairs and sat down. An older man occupied one of the seats by the large window, his face marked with heavy lines of sadness.
Chains slouched down into the chair and took a sip of coffee: it had a tinny taste but was at least hot. It’s gonna be a long night.
He stared at the emergency room clock, watching the black second hand sweep around … over and over and over.
Chapter Eighteen
In the early morning, Autumn woke with a jolt. Sitting up with her heart pounding wildly, she strained to see in the dark as every nerve inside her tightened. Autumn held her breath and listened for anything that seemed strange, but the only predawn sounds were a distant train moving through the stillness and the chirping of small birds who had begun to stir. Still, her heart beat fast. Did Bret get in the house? The chance of that terrified Autumn.
For several minutes, she waited while barely breathing, then slowly began to relax. Cinder jumped up on the bed, and Autumn picked her up and held her close.
“I’m being totally ridiculous,” she whispered. Not usually the type of person who got spooked, she found herself on edge ever since Bret’s assault the day before.
Glancing at her phone’s screen, it read 4:15 a.m., and streaks of anger shot through Autumn. Chains had said he’d come over, but he never showed up. Not even a damn phone call. Nothing. At around midnight, she’d figured he wasn’t going to show. Chains raised a storm of feelings inside Autumn: anger, frustration, sadness, joy, and confusion. But at this late hour, a new emotion had crept in—worry.
Chains had told her that he had club business that night. Autumn wasn’t really sure what that meant, but now that she hadn’t heard from him, she wondered if something bad had happened. In the past, whenever Bret hadn’t followed through on a promise to call her, she’d worry about him being hurt and he was always just fine. His insensitivity and selfishness were the reasons for not following through, but Chains seemed so different from his brother. She couldn’t imagine he’d purposely diss her. But I don’t really know him. Maybe he’s like Bret. After all, they are brothers.
Cinder’s ears perked up and she stared at the door, her body tense. Autumn stilled. Although the bedroom door was closed, she heard the faint sound of the wood floor creaking on the other side of it. Then the noise of shuffling footsteps along the hallway filled her ears. She clutched the blanket and brought it up under her chin. The footfalls slowed down as they approached her room.
Tingles of fright skated down her spine, and Autumn reached for the phone while her gaze stayed fixed on the door. As the handle twisted and turned, she screamed, and the phone fell to the floor with a thud.
Then, the door pushed open, and a figure rushed toward her.
“Autumn, what’s wrong?” a deep voice asked as the man neared the bed.
Fear and confusion zigzagged through her, and she pushed back against the headboard, clawing at it.
“It’s me, baby. Are you having a bad dream?”
Groping around the nightstand, her fingers found the small lamp and switched it on. Muted golden light cast shadows on the wall and ceiling as her gaze fixed on the advancing figure. It’s Chains. Relief spread through her entire body.
“You scared the hell out of me!” The blanket dropped down from her hands.
In seconds, he was on the bed, strong arms cocooning her in his warmth.
“I’m sorry, darlin’. I wanted to surprise you,” he murmured.
“Well, you did that.” Autumn tilted her head back and looked up. “How did you get in the house?”
“Yeah … well, we gotta talk about getting you a security system.” He brushed his lips across hers. “How’re you feeling?”
“Better—the swelling has gone down a lot since yesterday. I iced it every hour after you left.” She tightened her arms around his waist. “I was worried about you. At first, I wasn’t sure if you blew me off or not.”
“I don’t do that shit, baby. I should’ve called, but I got … tied up.”
“Did everything go okay?” she asked, noticing that he looked tired and worried.
Giving her a slight smile, he nodded.
“Are you sure? You don’t look so good.”
“I’m fine.” His jaw clenched.
“You can tell me if something’s bothering you. Is it Thor?”
He let out a dry chuckle. “Thor’s fine, but he’s probably pissed that I left him alone again.” He shook his head. “Last night, Ruby had to stay in my room because he was going nuts.”
Autumn’s stomach twisted. “Who’s Ruby?”
“One of the club girls. She and Thor get along real well. I’m sure I cramped her style though. There were a lot of members from other clubs at the party last night.”
“Party?” She pulled out of his embrace. “Was that your club business?”
“Nah. The brothers who stayed behind kept the party going.”
“So, club girls live with all of you?”
“Yeah—they get our protection and keep the place clean and do other … jobs.”
“Like cooking?”
&nbs
p; “Mostly when Lena’s off. She’s the cook. Crossbones was her old man until he fucked my old lady.”
“That must’ve been awful,” she said.
“Fuckin’ sucked. It hit Lena real hard. Believe me, we’ve trashed the fuckers a lot over the years.” He chuckled. “Lena’s a good woman, but she’s still bitter as hell over the betrayal.”
“I think you are too.”
“Not really—I used to be.”
Her breath caught as Chains ran his fingers over her cheeks and along her jaw; her skin tingled at his touch.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said and moved her tousled hair aside. “Did you miss me?”
“Uh-huh,” she mumbled, her body hummed with awareness caused by the heat radiating from him.
“That’s good,” he whispered as he nuzzled her neck, his beard stubble prickly, his breath warm and soft.
Autumn tilted her head, giving him better access. Chains slowly licked the curve of her ear.
“You smell so good, baby,” he murmured against her skin.
She let out a small moan and fell against him.
Chains pulled back and slipped his fingers through her hair to hold her in place; then, he leaned in and melded their mouths together. Autumn’s lips parted, and as his tongue slid inside enough for her to taste him, she pressed closer, giving in to the prickle of electricity dancing throughout her body and sparking low in her belly.
Lips, tongues, and teeth tasted and probed deeper, relishing in wet, dark pleasure. Autumn sighed into Chain’s mouth, and he let out a low, feral growl as his hands gripped the hem of her purple nightie and slid it high on her thighs while he ground his erection against her—hard and demanding.
“Fuck, Autumn”—his fingers circled their way to her lace panties—“you’re already so wet for me,” he whispered, touching her through the fabric.
“Oh God … Chains.” Jumping from the contact, she arched into him, the tips of her breasts straining against the nightgown’s thin material.
Another deep, passionate kiss, then Chains dragged his lips away. His hot panting on Autumn’s neck had every one of her nerve endings on alert just before a sharp bite jolted her clit to a full throb. He savagely sucked on the flesh of her neck, and she had no doubt it would leave a disreputable mark, but at that moment, she didn’t give a rat’s ass.
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