Murphy: Satan's Fury MC-Memphis

by L. Wilder

  “All right, man. Just go easy on that fucking trigger!”

  I kept my gun aimed at his head as he stepped out of the car and closed the door behind him. “Who’s in there with you?”

  “My boys … Leon and Zeek.” The rear doors eased opened, giving us a clear view of the two men in the backseat. “Your fella done killed Marcus.”

  “Marcus should’ve known better. No one shoots at a brother from Satan’s Fury and lives to tell about it.”

  “What the hell is all this about? We ain’t got no riff with the Fury,” he grumbled as he wiped the blood from his brow.

  “You do now.” I looked him dead in the eyes as I asked, “Where the fuck is she?”

  “Who?”

  I was done wasting time. I stepped towards him and placed the barrel of my gun under his chin. “The Nichols girl. Where the hell is she?”

  “What the fuck is it to you?” he snapped.

  And with that, the dam broke. I moved my gun from his chin to his thigh and pulled the trigger. Curses were streaming from his mouth as I growled, “I’m not going to ask you again!”

  His eyes widened and his breath was ragged as he answered, “I got no idea, man.”

  “You seriously want to go down that road?”

  His hands clung to his wound as he said, “I ain’t lying, man. She took off running when we stopped to get some smokes.”

  “Running? There’s one of her and four of you. How the hell did she get away from you?” Blaze asked.

  “We had a run-in with a few of the Arañas.”

  “What kind of run-in?” Gunner pushed.

  “The kind where we kicked their ass in front of the fucking Little General where ever’body could see. We showed those assholes who’s running shit around here,” he boasted.

  “Um-hmm. I’m sure you did,” I scoffed. “And the girl ran off when you were fighting with this Arañas gang?”

  “Yeah. That’s how it played out,” he admitted. “We’ve been looking for her, but the bitch ain’t nowhere to be found.”

  “How long have you been looking for her?” Blaze asked.

  “An hour or so … maybe more.” His voice was strained as he said, “You ain’t gotta worry though. White girl out running in these streets is as good as dead.”

  I knew how bad things could be, and my mind was suddenly bombarded with all the possible dangers Riley might have to face while running through the dark streets of the ’hood. It would be a fucking miracle if she managed to survive. I looked at the man before me, and rage rushed over me when I thought about everything he’d put her through—killing her horse, kidnapping her, and exposing her to this kind of danger. Thinking about it infuriated me. Riley should’ve been home. She should’ve been sleeping soundly in her bed, but instead, she was out there in the streets alone, fighting to survive. And it was all because of him. He was the reason that she was in harm’s way. He was the reason I might never see her again, and he’d pay the ultimate price for doing so. I looked him in the eyes as I brought my gun up to his head, and his dark eyes widened in horror when he heard the familiar click of my finger engaging the trigger. When his lifeless body dropped to the ground with a hallowed thud, one of the men in the backseat started cursing and shouting like a wild man. “What the fuck? He fucking killed him. Goddamn it! He really killed him.”

  I didn’t move. I didn’t speak. I just stood there staring at Devon’s body sprawled out on the ground, wishing I could kill him all over again. Seemingly concerned, Shadow stepped up beside me and asked, “You okay, brother?”

  “I’m better now,” I grumbled. The truth was, I’d been hanging by a thread, and the thread just broke. I had no idea where Riley was and it was fucking with my head. “We’ve gotta find her.”

  “What do you want us to do?”

  Before I could answer, my burner started ringing. When I answered, I heard Nichols’ voice say, “She just called me.”

  “What?”

  “Riley just called me,” Nichols repeated.

  Relief washed over me. “Is she okay? Where is she?”

  “Not sure. Somewhere in Memphis.” He was talking fast, making it difficult to understand. “She gave me the address, but I got no idea where it is.”

  “Give me the address.”

  He paused a moment, then replied, “It’s … uh … 1329 South Park Street.”

  “Got it. I’m headed that way now.”

  “Good. And Murphy. You need to hurry.” I could hear the urgency in his voice as he went on, “Riley said she was okay, but the lady that was with her mentioned something about her being shot.”

  “Shot?”

  “Yeah. Apparently, one of Devon’s guys shot her when she was running away from them. I have no idea how bad it is, so you …”

  I didn’t wait for him to continue. “I’m leaving now.”

  When I hung up the phone, Shadow looked over to me and said, “We’ve got this. You and Blaze go find Riley.”

  I glanced back over at Devon and his mangled car. “But we’ve gotta figure out something to do with …”

  “Don’t worry about that.” Shadow cocked his eyebrow and gave me one of his looks as he assured me, “I’ve got a plan.”

  I didn’t argue. I knew I could trust Shadow to handle it, so I gave him a quick nod and headed for the truck. Despite knowing she was alive, I couldn’t get to her fast enough. I needed to see for myself that she was truly okay, and even that wouldn’t be enough to extinguish the rage that was still burning deep inside of me.

  18

  Riley

  I’d always heard that you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, and it was only after running for my life and finding refuge in the most unlikely of places when I fully understood the truth of that statement. I’d always assumed that the people who settled in areas like Orange Mound were shady at best. From the rumors I’d heard and the things I’d seen on TV, I thought they were all criminals who had no pride in the way they lived. All those assumptions were proven wrong when I was trying to find a place to hide and found myself in Ms. Claudine’s backyard. I’d been on the run for hours—first, from Devon, and then from various derelicts I’d encountered on the streets—and I was beyond exhausted. I had no phone, no money, and no one to turn to for help. I was screwed.

  Thankfully, I was wearing my hoodie and used its hood to cover my head and my face. I’d hoped that it would help me blend in and not attract any unwanted attention as I wandered from one bad area to the next. My side was aching, my feet were throbbing, and my head was pounding. I was in desperate need of a place to just sit and rest for a few minutes when I came up on a row of small shotgun-style homes. Like most in the area, the paint was peeling off the exterior, the roofs were completely worn-out, and the small front porches were caving in. It didn’t look like the safest place, but it was quiet, really quiet. I hoped that was a good sign and started towards the house on the end. With its pale blue color and the ivy on the metal columns, it seemed to be the most inviting. When I reached the driveway, I slipped through the fence and inched my way to the back of the house.

  I was about to step into the backyard when I heard someone say, “Hey, you!” I quickly turned and looked up onto the porch only to find a woman standing there in the dark. She was clutching her little pink bathrobe as she tried to protect herself from the cold night air. “What you doing back there?”

  “Umm … I’m sorry for trespassing, ma’am.” My voice trembled as I removed my hood and said, “I wouldn’t have come through your yard like this, but I’m lost. I don’t have my phone or any money …”

  Before I could finish my sentence, she interrupted me, “Of course, you’s lost, child” She chuckled under her breath. “Pretty young white girl like yourself … Hmph. No way you’d be in this neighborhood if you wasn’t lost as a goose.” She motioned her hand over to the front steps. “Come on in here, child, and let’s get you warmed up.”

  Tears of relief filled my eyes as I started towards
her. “Thank you.”

  “You don’t have to thank me for doing what’s right.” She waved me forward as she fussed, “Now, come on. You’ll catch yourself a chill.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” As I walked up the old wooden steps, I was worried that they wouldn’t be able to withstand my weight, but thankfully they held up until I reached the top step. When I got closer, I could finally see she was older than I realized. Her hair was short and completely gray, and she had these kind dark eyes and a welcoming smile that immediately put me at ease. I smiled as I introduced myself, “I’m Riley Nichols.”

  “It’s good to meet you, Riley. I’m Claudine Brown.” She opened her front door and placed her hand on the small of my back as she led me inside. “Make yourself at home.”

  As soon as stepped inside, I was engulfed in a feeling of warmth and comfort like I’d never felt before. I thought it had something to do with the house, but as I looked around, I had my doubts. There was an old tan sofa sitting under the front window and a small, round coffee table, with various magazines stacked neatly on the edge, positioned in front of it. A leather recliner was nestled close to a potbelly stove, and her oversized Bible was laying wide open on the small TV tray next to it. As I stood there looking around the small, quaint living room, I quickly realized that that feeling of comfort had little to do with the actual house or the furnishings inside. The feeling was all her. It was her kindness, her compassion and faith that loomed in the air, and you could tell that she was a special lady simply by the way she took care of her little house. While her belongings were far from new, most of them were very worn, it was impeccably clean and everything was carefully put in its place. I was standing there, soaking it all in when Ms. Claudine came up beside me and asked, “Can I get you something to drink?”

  I nodded. “Yes, ma’am. That would be wonderful.”

  “I have some sweet tea”—she padded towards the kitchen with another offer—“or would you like something warmer like coffee?”

  “Tea would be fine.”

  When she returned with a glass of iced tea, she asked, “You look like you’ve had quite a night. Are you in trouble or something?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I took a sip of my tea before I continued, “I had some bad men chasing me, but I’m pretty sure I lost them.”

  “Bless your heart. You’re lucky you were able to get away from them.” Concern filled her eyes as she asked, “Should we call the police or something?”

  Knowing I could never tell the police the real reason why Devon and his gang were after me, I quickly answered, “No. That’s not necessary, but it would be great if I could call my father.”

  “Of course.” She pointed to the wall by the kitchen as she said, “The phone is right over there.”

  “Thank you so much.” I rushed over and lifted the receiver. I couldn’t remember Dad’s cell phone number, so I called the home line. It rang over and over, and I was beginning to think no one was going to answer when I heard my father’s voice say, “Hello? Nichols residence.”

  “Daddy?”

  “Riley!” His voice cracked with emotion as he asked, “Is that you?”

  “Yes, Dad. It’s me.”

  “Thank God,” he gasped. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

  “I’m fine, but I need you to come get me.”

  “Of course. Just tell me where you are.”

  I turned to Claudine and asked, “What’s your address?”

  “Oh, goodness, child.” Her eyes were wide with worry as she stood there staring at my hip. “Did you know that you’re bleeding?”

  I glanced down at my side and grimaced when I saw the blood stains on my hoodie. With the excitement of getting off the streets, I’d all but forgotten about it. I studied the hole where the bullet had ripped the fabric, but I was too scared to look at my actual wound. “Yes, but I don’t think it’s bad. It’s not hurting like it was.”

  “You sure ‘bout that?” She stepped towards me, trying to get a better look, and then gasped, “Oh, sweet Lord. It looks like you’ve been shot.”

  “Wait … Did she just say that you’ve been shot?” my father shouted through the phone.

  “I’m fine, Daddy. Really.” I looked at Claudine and asked her again, “I need your address.”

  Without seeking my permission, she lifted my shirt so she could get a better look, and as she inspected my wound, she answered, “It’s 1329 South Park Street. Tell him it’s the fourth house on the left.”

  I repeated what she’d told me to my father, and just before I hung up the phone, he asked, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yes, I’m sure.”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can, sweetheart.”

  As I hung up the phone, Ms. Claudine asked, “Did those men do this to you?”

  “Yes, ma’am. They did.”

  “Well, it looks like you got lucky. It looks like it just grazed you.” When she started down the hall, I got curious and lifted my hoodie. I was relieved to see that she was right. The graze was two to three inches long, and with its dark edges, it looked more like a burn that an actual bullet wound. I was still studying it when she came back into the room with her hands full of Band-Aids, gauze, and hydrogen peroxide. She motioned me into the kitchen as she said, “Come on over here and let’s get that cleaned up.”

  I walked over and watched as she laid everything out on the table. When she was ready, I lifted my shirt and said, “Thank you, Claudine.”

  “What did I tell you about thanking me, child.” She poured some hydrogen peroxide on a rag. Before she pressed it against my skin, she said, “This is going to sting a little.”

  Boy did it ever—and I gasped. “Dang. That hurts worse than I thought.”

  “Why don’t you tell me how this happened?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “I got nothing but time, dear.”

  I didn’t go into exact detail, but as she went back to cleaning my wound, I told her about Devon and his friends kidnapping me. I told her how we’d stopped at the gas station and the men who appeared shortly after. She seemed surprised that they hadn’t succumbed to shooting each other, but didn’t interrupt as I told her about my escape. When I started telling her about how I’d hidden from them, I found myself thinking how odd it was that I used to love playing hide and seek when I was a kid. When I was hiding from Devon, I couldn’t have been more terrified, but when I was younger, it wasn’t like that. I used to love that tingly feeling you’d get whenever you were waiting for someone to find you, and the way your breath would catch whenever they were drawing near.

  As I told her about all the different places I’d hidden and the moment when I thought they were going to find me. I’d done just like I had when Hunter and I were kids. Whenever he got close, I would remain perfectly still and hold my breath. I didn’t care how long it took. I wouldn’t budge until he’d admitted defeat. I’d done the exact same thing with Devon, and it actually worked. They eventually left the alley, and I was finally able to get out of the dumpster. By the time I got to the part where I showed up in her backyard, she had finished cleaning my wound. As she put on the last Band-Aid, she said, “It sounds like you gave those boys a run for their money.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I did.”

  “Well, I’m glad you did.” She looked down at my blood-stained hoodie and said, “Let me see if I’ve got something else you can put on.”

  “That would be great.”

  She went back down the hall, and moments later, she returned with a heather-gray sweatshirt. As she offered it to me, she said, “I think this should fit you.”

  “I’m sure it will be fine.” I slipped it over my head and smiled when I saw the Memphis Tigers logo. “Are you a fan?”

  “Not really. I have a hard time keeping up with all the teams. My grandson left this the last time he was here.”

  “Well, thank you for letting me borrow it.”

  After I helped her clean up, I followed h
er back into the living room. We were just about to sit down when there was a knock at the door. Claudine looked over to me and said, “I imagine that’s your father, but just to be safe, you stay put.”

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  She made her way over to the door, and when she opened it, I heard her ask, “Who are you?”

  “I’m a friend of Riley Nichols. Is she here?”

  At the sound of his voice, I eased over to the door. Lincoln and one of his brothers were standing on the front porch, and I rushed towards him. “Lincoln! What are you doing here?”

  “Your father called.” He wrapped his arms around me, hugging me tightly as he asked, “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Your father was worried that you had been shot or something.”

  “Yes, but it wasn’t bad … just a scratch. Claudine bandaged me up.”

  With a look of apprehension, he replied, “Okay, but you’re going to need to see a doctor to be sure.”

  “I’m really okay. I promise. Right now, I just want to go home.”

  He lowered his mouth to mine, kissing me briefly before he looked down and said, “Then, let’s get you home.”

  I gave him one more quick squeeze before I turned back to Claudine and said, “Thank you for everything, Ms. Claudine. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t helped me like you did.”

  “You are welcome, sweet child.” Concern filled her voice as she warned, “Now, get on home and get you some rest.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I will.”

  Before we left, Murphy handed her a slip of paper and said, “Thank you for taking care of her like you did. If you ever need anything, help is just a phone call away.”

  “I know there’s more to the story I heard, but a sweet girl like her has no business running around these streets.” She took the paper from Murphy’s hand and slipped it in her pocket, then she said, “I sure hope you’ll see that it doesn’t happen again.”

  “It won’t happen again. You have my word on that.”

  Lincoln reached for my hand and led me outside. As soon as we reached the truck his friend got in the backseat, and when he closed the door behind him, Lincoln pulled me towards him and wrapped his arms around me once more. He didn’t say a word as he buried his head in the side of my neck. He just stood there and held me close, and with every second that passed, I could feel the weight of my fear and heartache starting to fade. That’s when it hit me. I couldn’t believe that I hadn’t realized it sooner. The signs were all there, but I hadn’t let myself see them. Maybe I was just too scared to believe it, but as I stood there in his arms, I could feel it with every beat of my heart. I was in love with Lincoln, and in his arms was exactly where I was meant to be.