CONVICT’S BABY_Black Dogs MC

by Zoey Parker

  “Argh!” the man sank to his knees, squealing in agony and grabbing helplessly as his bloodied stump of an arm.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Henry helped haul Aaron on to his feet. “We’re done.”

  “But they're still standing,” Will objected, pointing in the direction of another fight.

  Looking around, Henry wasn’t quite sure if standing was the correct term. People precariously remained on their feet as blood seeped into their clothes.

  “If we want to see tomorrow, we need to go now,” Henry urged. “Let’s get back to the bar.”

  Any alcohol in his system had run out, along with his blood, and now he felt impossibly tired. The bar on the outskirts of town felt a million miles away. But he knew he had to get there. He urgently needed medical attention, they both did.

  “Alex will kill us…if we…go back,” Aaron stuttered. He was zoning in and out of consciousness and starting to shiver. Henry knew that they didn’t have much time.

  “I saw the old man go down,” he told his friend gravely. Alex had been struck down within the first twenty minutes of the fight. Five guys with hammers and baseball bats had set upon him, beating him to death until the bloodied pulp they left in their wake was barely recognizable.

  “He got jumped,” Henry explained. “He didn’t even have a chance.”

  “Shit.”

  “So we need to get the hell out of here so that the Skeleton Kings can eventually rise again.”

  “Will we run the Kings?” Aaron asked dreamily as Henry finally reached their bikes. He climbed up on his own and hauled him up behind him. He just prayed that he’d be able to drive them safely back to the protection of the bar.

  “Run the Skeleton Kings?” Henry wiped the blood from his eyes and started the engine. He hadn’t thought about it, but with Alex gone, the pack would be rudderless without a leader. Max would have been Alex’s natural successor, but he was long gone by now. Henry rolled the idea around in his fogged mind and pulled away on his bike. The more he drove, the more he warmed to the idea.

  “Sure,” he shouted over the roar of the engine, the bar now blissfully in sight. “Why the hell not? Let’s run the Kings, me and you.”

  “Sounds good,” Aaron coughed. “Now let’s go get us patched the hell up.”

  Chapter Ninety-Nine

  Nancy couldn’t sleep. Outside the night was disturbed by piercing screams and haunting moans. The main street of Colridge had become a battlefield. Just after midnight, she dared to peel back her drapes and glance outside. The street was covered with fallen bodies and those men who still stood, did so on unsteady feet.

  “Holy shit,” Nancy felt like she was looking down on a war zone. Where were the cops? Why hadn’t they come and broken any of this up? Because, like everyone else, they were too scared. Nancy thought of her beloved tattoo parlor and hoped the shutters had been strong enough to keep out any trouble. Her stomach knotted as she then thought of Zack. Where was he in this fray? She hoped that he’d had the sense to stay away. In the darkness, she strained to try and make out the faces of some of the fallen. Was Zack among them? But each twisted expression was too far away from her window for her to be able to see anything clearly.

  With a sad sigh, Nancy moved away from the window and climbed back into bed. Outside it was becoming quieter, but Nancy knew that sleep would struggle to find her now. And even if it did, her dreams would be haunted by the sights she’d seen beyond her window.

  Chapter One Hundred

  Nancy woke up before her alarm had a chance to kick in. She blinked away the last remnants of sleep and slowly sat up. Her apartment was eerily silent. It was as if the death, which stalked the nearby streets, had infected the building; seeping into its walls and smothering all those inside with its cruel indifference.

  She wanted to just hide out in bed, to snuggle down beneath her duvet and pretend the previous night hadn’t happened. But she couldn’t do that, as tempting as it was. She had to go and check on her store, make sure it was still standing. She didn’t relish the conversation she’d need to have with her insurance company if anything was trashed, nor the additional premiums she’d incur.

  There was no one outside her apartment building. Everyone had sensibly tucked themselves up inside, reluctant to come out. But Nancy only had to wander a few feet down the street before she came upon the aftermath of the night before.

  The authorities had eventually showed up. They must have arrived in the early hours of the morning, when Nancy had finally managed to get some sleep. Paramedics were onsite, tending to the more gravely wounded. There were stretchers everywhere and ambulances parked alongside the road, with cop cars preventing any vehicle access down the street. And blood. There was so much blood. It ran like a river down the center of the street, pooling like oil around the drains. Nancy felt sick at the sight of it. She pressed a hand against her stomach and pushed away the uneasy feeling.

  “You’re going to need stitches, we’ll have to send you to a hospital,” a young brunette paramedic was telling a battered old man. He was propped up against a wall, one of his eyes swollen shut. His entire face was caked with dried blood and his lips had been burst open by a well-placed punch.

  “No,” the old man managed to cough.

  “Sir, you’re at risk of infection. You need to be hospitalized for your wounds.”

  “No,” the old man protested again, trying to struggle to his feet. The brunette signalled for some of her colleagues to come and assist her. Nancy wondered what the old man feared. Was it the hospital or was it the prospect of police intervention? If he went to the hospital, would he ultimately have to answer for his crimes? And anyone present the previous night would have chalked up an impressive number of crimes. Disturbing the peace, disorderly conduct, violent assault, maybe even manslaughter - to name a few.

  Nancy was relieved to see that the carnage of the fight hadn’t seemed to have spread up to her store. And the shutters were still all the way down. Shaking with relief Nancy opened up. It felt surreal to even think about working after what she’d just seen. But she needed the normalcy of it to take her mind off worrying about Zack. And Brittany. Would Brittany even show up for work?

  Nancy wandered through the store and into the back room where she’d left her purse and jacket. When she moved back through to the reception area, a man was standing in the doorway. He had shaggy blonde hair and stooped as though he were in pain. Nancy recognised him instantly and flinched.

  “We’re closed,” she announced stiffly, her voice hard.

  “You look pretty open to me,” the guy edged further into the store. He was walking with a limp, pressing a hand against his thigh each time he moved. His face was adorned with numerous fresh stitches over seemingly deep wounds. He was as pale as paper, almost hauntingly so.

  “You need to leave,” Nancy considered screaming. The paramedics and the cops were close enough to hear her. She took a deep breath, inflating her lungs in preparation.

  “Now, you don’t need to be doing that,” he held up hands which were red and bruised and managed to force a smile. “I just want my sleeve finished off before I go into hibernation for the rest of the month.”

  “You look like you need the rest of the year,” Nancy scoffed.

  “True,” he laughed in agreement. “But the best I can manage is the month. Reckon you can finish this sleeve for me today?”

  Nancy eyed him dubiously.

  “I know Brittany was working on it, but something tells me we won’t be seeing her again.”

  “What do you know about Brittany?” panicked burned within Nancy at the mention of her protégées name. Where was Brittany? Had she somehow been caught up in the madness the night before? Nancy couldn’t bear the thought of it.

  “I know she’s skipped town.”

  “Skipped town?” Nancy exhaled and leaned back against the reception counter for support. She felt dizzy from worry.

  “Yep. With lover boy in tow. They’ll
be long gone by now.”

  Nancy ran her hands through her hair. So Brittany was gone. The most talented artist Nancy had come across during her career was now scattered to the wind.

  “But she’s safe?” she demanded.

  “Should be.”

  “Good.” And Zack? But Nancy didn’t ask the question. If Zack had survived, she was certain she’d hear from him sooner or later, when he was ready to crawl up out of the woodwork.

  “Should you really be here?” she asked her blonde visitor, pursing her lips.

  “Probably not,” he gave a casual shrug and then winced.

  “You should be resting up in bed.”

  “That an offer to come take care of me?” his eyes sparkled flirtatiously. “I reckon you’d look really good in a tight little nurse’s outfit.”

  “If you want me to finish that sleeve for you, I suggest you stop insulting me,” Nancy folded her arms across her chest and scowled at him.

  “Hey, darling, I was just offering you a compliment. You should learn to take one.”

  “You were sexually harassing me,” Nancy rolled her eyes. She wanted to get the guy out of there, but she found herself checking her calendar for the day. She could fit him in for the sleeve if she got to work on him right now. But why wasn’t she just sending him away? She didn’t need him bringing any trouble her way.

  “I didn’t mean to offend you,” he struggled over to the reception desk and leaned against it so that he was standing beside her. Nancy had expected him to smell like stale liquor and dried blood but instead he smelled of oil and shampoo. Fresher than she’d thought he would be.

  “If we start on it right now, I can finish your sleeve today,” Nancy informed him briskly, heading towards the treatment room before he had a chance to respond.

  “You’re bossy. I like that,” he commented saucily as he hobbled after her. Nancy did pause to hold the door open for him.

  “What if the cops find you here?” Nancy asked as she started gathering together her tools. She was actually looking forward to working on the guy’s sleeve. It would provide a much-needed distraction from all her frantic thoughts. She kept worrying about Brittany and Zack, hoping that they were both okay.

  “They won’t do anything,” the guy told her confidently.

  “You sure about that?” Nancy was wiping down his arm which was surprisingly wound free compared to the rest of him.

  “Positive,” he grinned at her. “Cops won’t be giving us any trouble.”

  “Weren’t you a part of that big fight last night?”

  “What gives you that idea?” he laughed.

  “Fine,” Nancy huffed and picked up her needle, about to start work on the sleeve.

  “Yes,” he conceded quickly, his voice suddenly threatening to crack. “I was a part of the fight last night. But the cops won’t bother me. Or you. I run the Skeleton Kings, so I basically run this town.”

  “I see,” Nancy felt nervous at the gang talk. She’d never wanted to get involved in any of it.

  “You stay on my good side, and I can bring you lots of work in here and offer you protection.”

  Nancy opened her mouth to protest, but he talked over her.

  “Don’t tell me you don’t want to get involved. Talented lady like yourself should be chomping at the prospect to work on so many guys. Think of the cash flow. And I promise that all my guys would pay you a premium rate.”

  Nancy clamped her lips together. She’d always remained neutral in gang problems. What this guy was proposing would align her to the Reapers. It would put her in the line of fire when the next fight came around. And there was always a next fight. The kind of grudges that existed between the two packs were never settled no matter how much blood was shed.

  “You seem like a nice girl,” he reached out and grabbed her free hand in his. She was startled by the sudden connection but didn’t jump back. “You deserve to be protected,” he added softly.

  Nancy blinked back tears. During the night, she’d lay awake, alone in her apartment terrified that someone would come bursting through her front door, that the next screams she heard would be her own. Where was Zack? He’d been so concerned about Brittany, but he hadn’t stuck around to make sure Nancy was safe.

  “I’d always protect you,” the guy squeezed her hand tightly. Nancy looked at him and saw that beneath the bruises and the swelling he’d managed to retain his boyish charm. Handsome eyes sparkled at her, and she blushed with understanding. His protection would come at a cost, but it was one she would willingly pay.

  “So let’s get this sleeve finished,” Nancy sniffed back any tears and focused on the guy’s upper arm.

  “Yes, let’s,” he agreed. “And sweets, call me Henry.”

  “Okay…Henry.”

  “And you’re Nancy,” he smiled tenderly at her. “I look forward to us getting more acquainted.”

  Nancy blushed. She started to work on the sleeve and tried to push away thoughts of Zack. If she went with Henry, would she be dishonoring what they had? But then they didn’t even have anything, it wasn’t like they were exclusively dating, just fucking on occasion. And Nancy wanted so desperately to feel protected, to feel safe, to feel wanted. Besides, it wasn’t like Zack was ever going to come back into her life. He’d probably fled town, just as Brittany had, and she’d never see him again.

  The nauseating feeling she’d woken up with flared up again as she worked on the sleeve. On two occasions, Nancy had to stop and steady herself, fearing she might throw up. But she managed to stay composed and she completed the sleeve. All the while, Henry kept flirting with her so that when they said goodbye and he reached to kiss her, Nancy didn’t push him away. Henry placed a strong hand upon her cheek and pulled her lips towards his. He was a surprisingly gentle kisser. Nancy melted into the embrace. Henry’s kiss was everything she’d needed – it was soft and reassuring.

  “Until next time,” he promised her huskily as they parted.

  “Yeah,” Nancy smiled at him, suddenly feeling all girlish and self-conscious. She watched Henry leave, grateful for the new man who had walked into her life.

  Chapter One Hundred One

  Brittany slept contentedly beside Max. She felt reassured by the steady, constant beating of his heart, which she could feel through his chest like an unrelenting drum. By the time the early morning sunlight was streaming in beneath the curtains, Brittany felt refreshed. She sat up and stretched, and for a blissful moment she was happy. She was with Max and that was all that mattered.

  But then the memories of the previous night crashed down on her like a tsunami, threatening to drown her in negative emotions. She remembered how Zack had walked away from her, had gone to fight a battle which wasn’t even truly his. Why hadn’t he chosen to turn his back on it all like Max had?

  “Morning,” Max croaked the greeting, his voice hoarse. A dark shadow of stubble had gathered along his jaw line making him seem even more dangerously sexy.

  “Morning,” Brittany pushed away her negative thoughts and leaned down to gently kiss Max on the lips. As they connected, he released a groan of contentment and looped his arms around her waist, drawing her closer to him. Brittany wanted to get lost in the moment, in the kiss. But Zack’s name kept pinging around her head like a bell. It was almost deafening.

  “My brother,” she panted as she pulled back from Max, seeing his face blanche with disappointment.

  “He made his choice,” Max sat up, pushing his hands through his hair.

  “I need to know that he’s okay.” Brittany wasn’t sure she could live beneath the cloud of uncertainty, which came with not knowing what happened to Zack. Was he even alive? Or did he die while she blissfully slept? Guilt pressed through her like a rusty blade, and Brittany cupped a hand to her mouth, suppressing a sob.

  “Brittany - ”

  “Can’t you make a call or something?” she pleaded desperately. Good or bad, she had to know what happened to Zack. She’d never rest unless she
knew.

  “It’s too dangerous.”

  “Max,” Brittany wilted, feeling all her happiness drain out of her. How was she supposed to be happy if her brother was dead? If she knew, concretely, what happened to him, good or bad, she could at least carry on, could let go. “I need to know. Either way, I need to know.”

  Max groaned and got out of bed. Her eyes flicked up his bare torso, savouring how she always did, at how amazing he looked.

  “If I call then they will know where we are, and they’ll probably come after us,” he warned gravely.

  “But if the fight is over, isn’t everything resolved now?” Brittany gazed at him with wide-eyed innocence.