Rafe (Devil's Flame MC Book 1)

by Romi Hart

  Then, the door opened, and she frowned. The last person she’d expected to see was Dylan, especially delivering a small meal. He looked riled, and as he strode toward her and yanked the knot out of the cloth so the gag fell away, he grunted and set the plate on the table. “Are you alright? He hurt you.”

  Kira narrowed her eyes at him, not sure how to respond. As far as she knew, Dylan was one of the most loyal members to her brother. And yet, he sounded completely irritated to see how Jake had treated her. “Yes, he hit me. After he kicked me in the back and tied me up.”

  Dylan grunted, scowling. “Inappropriate.” He shook his head and took a deep breath. “Kind of hard to eat with your hands tied, but I’m afraid to untie you. Someone will come in and get all over my case.” He gestured to the burger on the plate. “You hungry? I’ll help you eat.”

  Swallowing her pride and knowing she needed fuel to think clearly, she nodded. “I appreciate it. Thank you.” For a few minutes, they sat in silence, Dylan pulling up a chair and feeding her the burger. She was grateful, her stomach settling and the fog of her mind thinning. She shook her head, denying the last couple of bites and almost laughed when Dylan shrugged and shoved the rest of it in his mouth. “Any word from the Devil’s Flames?” she asked, trying to sound disgusted about the whole ordeal when, really, she was terrified.

  “I sent the address to Chambers yesterday, told him Jake wanted him here, alone, tonight. I also promised him that, if he showed up, I’d make sure you were out safe. He agreed.” Dylan rubbed his hands on his jeans and stood, not looking her in the eye. Taking the plate he said, “I’ll come back in a bit and get you to the bathroom. I don’t care how pissed off your brother is. You don’t deserve this kind of treatment.” He gestured toward her face. “And I’ll have one of the girls come clean you off and get some salve on those wounds.”

  Kira watched him leave, realizing he hadn’t put her gag back in. She didn’t know what his angle was, but Dylan didn’t do anything without some sort of ulterior motive. If he was being nice and trying to make up for Jake’s bad behavior, there was a reason. And since she didn’t have anything else she could do at the moment, she would ruminate on that for a while.

  Kira felt a rumble beneath her before the sound erupted, a loud bang and then crashing. And that was followed by distant gunfire. She frowned, trying to figure out if she could scoot the chair enough to see out the window. Maybe she could figure out what was going on. But it was almost impossible to even inch the seat, with her arms and legs so tightly restricted.

  Another bang and rumbling, with the floor vibrating beneath her feet, and Kira’s heart started to palpitate. That was a bomb or some sort, a small explosive, set off nearby, and she could only think of one reason for that.

  Rafe.

  With the gunshots growing closer, she could tell it was multiple weapons, and that had to mean he wasn’t alone. Had the MC come to save her? Or were they here to take down the whole place, with her included?

  She couldn’t sit here, helpless. There had to be a way to get out. She knew there was something she could use, somewhere in this room, to free her. There had to be, if she could just get to it. She started to struggle against the bonds, the zip ties cutting into her skin, and she hissed as she felt a trickle of blood down one wrist over her hand. That would never work.

  Maybe if she could rock the chair hard enough, she could manage to break off one of the legs where her feet were tied. If she could get one foot loose, she could work her way to the bathroom or the dresser, and then she could search for something to cut the ties. Using all her strength, she started wriggling, her shoulders aching as it pulled at her arms and her ankles seizing up as she tried to stretch her toes and push harder to throw the chair back and forth.

  Frustrated that nothing was happening and hearing the chaos building inside the house – more explosions right outside, screaming, gunshots, and crashing of furniture – she strained harder, ignoring the pain and the biting of the bonds. But rather than give, the chair tipped beyond her control, and she thumped to the floor, crying out as her right hip and shoulder jammed against the hardwood and instantly bruised.

  She couldn’t move at all from here, couldn’t rock the chair, and couldn’t seem to slide it anywhere. She cursed repeatedly, trying with all her might, but nothing was effective, and she felt hot, stinging tears beginning to spill with her frustration. She was going to die here, and no matter how the story was spun, it would be Jake’s fault. And she hoped her death weighed on his shoulders for the rest of his miserable existence, which would hopefully be very short.

  Exhausted with her efforts, Kira lay still, the sharp pain in her shoulder and the ache in her hip growing, and her head throbbing. She flinched as an explosive seemed to go off right under her head, knocking the lamp on the bedside table to the ground, where it shattered. A large, sharp piece of glass landed a couple of feet from her, and she wondered if she could maneuver to it so that she could grab it and saw through the zip tie around her wrists. With little recourse, she had to try, and gritting her teeth against the agony of the movement, she started to scoot across the floor. The weight of the chair tugged at her left shoulder, and her hip and shoulder sang with their protests, but she managed to move, a fraction of an inch at a time. It was enough to give her hope, and she needed that right now.

  She was still over a foot away when she heard arguing outside the door again. This time, the other noise made it even harder to hear, but the gunshot was loud and clear. Her door burst open, and Dylan raced toward her, blood spattered on his arms and neck. “What’s going on?” she asked as he tipped the chair back upright. It made her head spin, but she was grateful to be off the floor.

  And as he pulled out a knife and cut the zip ties, she was even more relieved, though she had no idea what he was doing. Looking up at her, his eyes were a bit wild. “Your knight in shining armor is here. But you need to get out and find a safe place. Don’t worry about your guard. He won’t be in your way. Just don’t trip over him as you go. And take the staircase from the master suite, the door at the end of the hall. It’s the only one that’s still safe right now.”

  “Where’s Rafe?” she demanded, rubbing her sore wrists and wincing when she found the cut from the tie.

  “Don’t worry about it. He’d got plenty of boys to cover him. They came in like a fucking army.” He grinned up at her. “Jake’s not going to make it out alive this time, if I have to kill the bastard myself.”

  Blinking as his words hit her square in the chest, she gaped at him. “You want the top seat.”

  Dylan shrugged. “Anyone can do better than your brother, and with Edgar gone, I’m the logical choice. And I’ll make peace with your Romeo, just to stop all the bullshit. Now, get out of here before something happens to you and I have to answer to Loverboy for it.”

  Adrenaline rushed through Kira as she stood, and she wasn’t sure whether that or injury left her lightheaded. Either way, she had to find Rafe or her brother. And really, she figured she’d find them at the same time. “I can’t leave, Dylan.”

  “I’m not asking you, Kira. I’m telling you.” His expression was harsh and full of warning, his tone demanding, but Kira stuck her chin out defiantly. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Dylan grumbled, hands on his hips. “Look, if I don’t get back out there and do something, this whole place is gonna blow, and if you’re still in here when it does, I can’t save you. I’ve got to try to save the rest of the club and make sure your brother goes down. Now, I don’t see you arguing with that, so maybe you should heed my warning and get the hell out of here.”

  “I told you, I’m not leaving. Not without knowing that Rafe is alive and my brother’s not.” She stood her ground, and Dylan cursed violently under his breath. “I take it that means you’re going to stop arguing,” she smirked. Even as her blood chilled with the continued fighting she could hear growing closer, she felt a sense of triumph.

  “I don’t have time for your fucker
y.” He reached behind him and pulled a knife from his belt, handing it to her. “If that’s not enough for you, take your guard’s piece. It should still have a few bullets in it.” He pointed a finger at her, nearly pressing its tip against her nose. “Stay out of trouble. I expect you to be alive and in one piece in the morning.” With that, he took off, leaving her behind.

  Kira stared after him for only a moment, weighing the blade in her hand. It was a nice one, long and sharp and weighted well. But she didn’t want to take a knife to a gun fight. Before she moved, she assessed her injuries. She rolled her shoulder, finding it sore but usable, and she swung her leg, wincing at the extreme angles but otherwise finding her hip willing to support her movement. Everything else was minor, even the cut on her wrist.

  Taking a deep breath, Kira turned toward the door and stopped, seeing the shoe on one foot of the guard that had been at her door and knowing the rest of the body was around the corner. In all her time with her family in the MC business, she’d never actually seen a freshly dead body, and her stomach churned at the thought. But she took a couple of hesitant steps and then forced herself to continue. When she reached the door and took a look down, finding blood and flesh pooling and spreading on the floor, she lurched, the gagging only made worse by the intense smell of copper.

  But the house rocked with another explosion, and she knew she was out of time. Sucking in a deep breath and holding it, she lunged for the weapon next to his right hand, grabbing it and checking it, glad to find that it didn’t have any blood or brains on it. There was shouting down the hall, coming up the stairs, and Kira glanced back and forth, trying to decide which direction she should go. Taking a precious few seconds to check the clip in the pistol, she found eight rounds and slammed it back into place, clicking one into the chamber.

  There were too many voices coming from the stairway, and Kira could probably shoot two or even three of them before one got a gun trained on her. But it sounded like five or six men, and there was no way she could blast through that. Dylan had told her the back stairwell through the master suite was clear. Apparently, it was a hidden escape route. She would take it and find a way back in without facing the firing squad. There was a lot of house, and she would find her way through until she came across Rafe or her brother.

  Turning, she strode purposefully toward the door behind her, at the end of the hall, which Dylan told her led to the master suite. It was locked, but that wasn’t going to stop her. Bracing herself for the searing pain that would shoot through her hip, she leveled a kick on the door knob that broke it, releasing the lock. She shouldered it open with her good side, raising the gun and clearing the room, in case it was a trap. Only then did she look around, seeking out the entrance to the staircase.

  She ran her hand along the walls as she rounded quickly from the door counterclockwise. She didn’t see a set of stairs, so they were either hidden behind a wall or under the floor, and she wanted to find the trigger. It wasn’t until she reached the headboard of the enormous bed that she realized the wall behind it was an optical illusion of solid reclaimed wood, with the stairs leading down behind it hidden with the patterning of the wood.

  Relieved, she started down slowly, leaning against the wall for support as the way grew dark and the house shook with yet another explosion, nearly knocking her down the narrow, steep steps. They seemed to go on forever, and when she saw the vague outline of the end, she sighed with relief. There wasn’t as much noise coming through the exit, but she remained cautious as she reached it, peering around the side before stepping out into the open space.

  Gun at the ready, Kira entered it, realizing she was in the basement. It was finished out, and other than the fact that some of the ceiling seemed to have come down with the eruptions, the space appeared untouched so far. She doubted that would last and hurried toward the exit that would lead her back into the main house. She climbed the stairs quickly and stopped at the top, by the closed door, listening. Chaos reigned beyond the barrier, but she didn’t see any other option from here. She would have to carefully insert herself into it without becoming cannon fodder.

  Debating whether to throw the door open and use it as a shield while she got the lay of the land or to peer out and hope no one took notice as she cracked it open, Kira decided to go for broke. Hopefully, she’d manage to blast her way through the main event and into a safe space, where she could assess her best chance of finding one of the people she sought.

  With her pistol cocked and ready, she busted through the door and aimed, finding and hitting two Kings with smart shots to the thighs that took them down and threw off their aim. Then, she dropped and rolled behind the kitchen island, next to one of the Devil’s Flames she didn’t know by name. He looked surprised but smiled at her. “Well, I’ll be damned. I guess the damsel isn’t in distress.”

  She snorted. “No, but the Diamond Kings are. They have no idea the tempest that’s about to come for them.”

  17

  Wishing he had another clip for one of his guns, Rafe leapt over the two bodies he’d just dropped, barely glancing to assure they were still breathing, as he chased Jake Hawthorne. When the explosives had started to go off, most of the Diamond Kings on the premises had been lounging around in the living room or game area, including Jake, and though he’d been hell bent on escape from the start, it had taken awhile for Jake to get out of the area. Rafe had been on his tail ever since, but running into the two guards he’d just taken out had slowed him down more than expected.

  And he was out of ammo.

  It wasn’t going to stop him, though. Rafe was determined to get his hands on Jake, and as far as he could tell, the dumbass didn’t have a weapon. He hadn’t fired any bullets, so either he was such a coward he forgot his weapon or he was stupid enough not to be armed at all times. Which was to Rafe’s benefit. He still had a couple of blades on him.

  He hurdled a counter in the kitchen, closing in a few more feet on Jake, and rounded the corner into the room where Jake had just disappeared from view, finding himself in a huge bathroom. Jake was halfway out the small window, and Rafe wrapped a hand around each of his ankles and yanked. Jake’s body raked across the window frame and slammed unceremoniously to the travertine floor. He grunted, and that gave Rafe the first wave of satisfaction.

  But the son of a bitch was fast, and he rolled, sweeping his leg out and knocking Rafe’s legs out from under him. It surprised Rafe, but he managed to recover quickly, rolling away and up to his feet easily. It took Jake a few more seconds to recover, and Rafe considered attacking him while he was down. But he couldn’t be sure his rival wasn’t hiding a knife or other small weapon in his hand and needed a clear assessment of what he was facing.

  As he gained his feet, Jake turned to glare at him with dark eyes so much like Kira’s it was startling. But they didn’t have the joy and teasing light hers did. They were dead, no emotion in them, dull and menacing. “You’re a fucking thorn in my side, Chambers. I’m so sick of you.”

  “Ditto, Hawthorne.”

  Jake snorted. “Let me guess. You want to kill me like it’s some righteous debt I have to pay for killing your sister, and that makes it justifiable homicide.”

  Rafe shook his head. “You killed my sister. You killed your sister’s fiancé in cold blood. And you held your own sister hostage to get me here. But I don’t need justification anymore because if I don’t get blood on my hands, someone else will.” He savored the words and the fear that flashed through Jake’s eyes for just a moment. He took advantage of the moment and rushed Jake, headfirst. He slammed the man into the wall, getting a loud oomph out of him.

  But Jake wasn’t going down easy. He slammed a fist into Rafe’s left kidney, making him suck in a breath of pain through his teeth. Jake pushed him away, and Rafe leveraged a knee, aiming for Jake’s stomach, but he twisted, and Rafe landed the blow on his hip instead. His adversary flinched but didn’t go down, throwing a right hook that glanced off Rafe’s temple as he ducked. />
  Rafe tried to pull a knife from his boot, but he didn’t have time, having to dodge a kick to the chin. He rolled back, flipping and coming to his feet to find Jake advancing. He let the bastard get close enough and gain the confidence so he could slam an uppercut into Jake’s jaw. Rafe heard his teeth clatter, but it didn’t seem to deter him as he came back on a rebound and caught Rafe with a backhand that stung and left a trickle of blood coming from the corner of his left eye.

  Shoving him back with hands on his chest, Rafe growled, “Are you really gonna fight like a bitch, Hawthorne?”

  “Whatever it takes, dickhead,” Jake gasped, obviously short of breath and maybe hurting. Had Rafe broken a rib? He hoped so.

  But that wasn’t good enough, and Rafe aimed a foot at Jake’s knee, trying to bend it backward. Jake, however, moved back just enough to avoid hyperextension and only took a minor blow. Enraged, Rafe threw himself forward, coming off his feet and managing to drop Jake to the ground, landing on top of him and half crushing the smaller man under his weight.

  It gave him an opening, and even though it had jarred him, Rafe managed a couple of punches to Jake’s face that caused instant swelling before the man rolled over, shoving Rafe beneath him. The guy was fast, but he didn’t hold a candle to Rafe in strength, so he managed to plow a fist into Rafe’s chin once, but then Rafe locked his fingers around Jake’s wrist and thrust it back. The angle was sure to tear ligaments in Jake’s shoulder.

  Rafe used the moment to slide out from under the lightweight, grabbing him by the throat and slamming his head into the floor. He lifted again, getting more leverage, but agonizing pain shot through his arm as Jake sliced a blade across it, fast and deep. The sting was enough for him to lose his grip, and he instinctively backed away and kicked out at Jake’s hand, sending the knife skittering across the bathroom floor.