THE HARDEST YARDS (A BAD BOY FOOTBALL ROMANCE)

by Andrea Rose

  One swift, meaningful look from Grizz stopped the biker in his tracks.

  With no other movement in sight, we watched Hunter compose himself. The furious biker president pulled himself back together rather quickly, all things considered.

  “Burn the bodies,” he growled.

  Grizz nodded towards the nearby bikers, and they began to fan out to collect the dead. Hunter stood silently, gazing towards the spot where the van had arrived.

  I walked up to his side, following his statuesque stare. “There wasn’t anything else that you could do,” I tried to reassure him.

  Hunter scoffed to himself before turning away, and it was at that moment I thought about just how screwed I was.

  I was surrounded by death.

  I’d shot a man dead.

  Cherry on top, I was way out of my fucking jurisdiction… and I knew that the Lieutenant was going to have a goddamn field day demoting me down to janitorial duty if I didn’t end up on the inside of a prison cell first.

  “I must have missed something,” Hunter growled to himself. “These assholes were waiting for us. There’s no reason why the cartel would have been in such a hurry. They’re more careful than this. They don’t like drawing attention. This wasn’t careful – this was hasty. Something rattled their cage…”

  “You sure that something isn’t you?” I asked, hands on my hips. “You’ve not exactly kept it a secret that you’re out for fucking blood when it comes to these people. Maybe they saw you coming and ramped shit up.”

  “Maybe,” he thought aloud. “Although…”

  We were cut off by the surprised exclamation of one of his men. Hunter and I turned towards the source of the noise, walking towards the back deck and up the stairs, into the house.

  “What is it?” He demanded.

  “We’ve got a live one!”

  Hunter and I stopped in our tracks, sharing a quick but meaningful glance. “Hold him!” He demanded, rushing to find the biker and his hostage.

  We turned a corner and spotted a wounded cartel member slumped in the corner, clutching his leg and uttering a string of incoherent profanities.

  Descending with cold, calculated movements, Hunter knelt down beside his enemy. The Víboras Verde gunner glared back up at him with venomous eyes, holding onto his wounded limb for dear life. In a final act of defiance, he spat in Hunter’s face.

  The biker didn’t even flinch. He removed a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the saliva from his eyes and lips, and rose back up to his feet. I could almost swear that he was smiling, which sent a shiver down my spine.

  “It would seem that fortune smiles down upon us,” Hunter thought aloud. “What we have here is a bonafide prisoner.” He turned to his biker and commanded: “Bring him into town. Take him to the Desert Owl.”

  The biker swallowed, but did as he was told. He checked the wounded cartel member for weapons, and then started to lift him under the shoulder.

  Another one of the Devil’s Dragons turned the corner, noticed the sight, and helped escort the wincing, cursing gunman outside.

  Moments later came the sound of a firing engine, and then a departing motorcycle.

  “The Desert Owl?” I inquired.

  “A skilled interrogator,” Hunter offered offhandedly. “He’s one of my Outlaws in the area. He has a reputation for extracting information… which means that we may have just found our way into the cartel after all.”

  “That man’s wounded. There’s a goddamn bullet in his leg. He’s not going to offer you anything if he’s dead from an infection. After all, you’re dragging him around in the desert.”

  Hunter shook his head. “The Desert Owl is a former combat medic,” he replied. “That little asshole will survive… although he’ll probably prefer death, if he proves to be stubborn… Now it’s just a waiting game… I’ll have my contact pull whatever information we can from the cartel gunman. I’m hoping that we can find out where those girls are being taken. Hell,” he added quickly, “he might even know where your missing cheerleaders have gone.”

  I tried to swallow down the pit in my stomach. Not only had we attacked a cross-border cartel operation… not only had I shot and killed someone, villain or not… but I had stood by and watched this faction pull a man from his deathbed to be grilled for an interrogation?

  Shaking my head, I stepped back outside for some fresh air.

  Unfortunately, the immediate sight was of a pile of cartel corpses thrown into a pile. A biker was presently dousing the heap in gasoline, and another had a flip lighter at the ready.

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I groaned to myself.

  But no, the bikers stepped aside, and the lighter was flicked and thrown. Within seconds, the mound of dead cartel men was roaring in a hot, heavy blaze.

  “You look surprised,” Hunter murmured from behind my shoulder. “You chose to accompany us on a midnight expedition to stake out a cartel operation. You’re in goddamn law enforcement, Detective… what exactly were you expecting?”

  I shook my head in anger.

  “Not this.”

  Hunter stepped aside, crossing his arms as he leaned back onto a support beam on the back deck. His stern face turned to watch me carefully.

  “What in the hell are we going to do?” I asked fruitlessly, throwing my hands up in exasperation. “You’re just expecting me to stand idly by and let you torch bodies… let you torch evidence?”

  Hunter nodded without an ounce of regret or consideration on his face.

  “That’s not how we do things!” I groaned with mounting anger. “How can you just act so blasé about this shit? Who the fuck thinks that torching bodies is normal?”

  Hunter’s eyes darkened, even in the low visibility under the moonlight. “Someone who has lived on this side of the law for as long as I have, Detective… someone who has done this for a very long time.”

  I stuck a finger into his chest.

  “I thought you told me that this life wasn’t going to change you, Hunter. But it was nothing for you to give the order… and when the police catch wind of this… I’m going to be implicated–”

  “Calm the fuck down,” he commanded.

  Oddly, I felt myself obeying the order.

  “Listen, Sarah, this is exactly what’s going to happen,” he growled. “The police aren’t going to care about some little skirmish near a break in the border fence. They’re going to put this down to cartel infighting, and leave it at that. Do you know how many headless assholes they find down here every single week? We’re just going to finish up here, head back, and wait to see what our new friend has to tell us. We might have lost the battle… but the war is just starting. Now it’s just a matter of time…”

  “A matter of time until what?” I asked.

  “Until we have a better grasp of what we’re up against… and figure out how to approach the problem properly.”

  “But what about the goddamn girls?” I demanded. “What’s going to happen to them now that we’ve interfered?”

  “Trust me, Sarah, I know these people,” Hunter reassured me calmly. “Víboras Verde isn’t going to take those girls far… we’ve disrupted their operations, and they’re going to sit on this a day or two… hole them up somewhere safe.”

  “And you’re just going to, what? Ride into goddamned Mexico to get them back?”

  Hunter turned to face me, his eyes filled with burning, solidified faith. I felt a slight shiver down my spine when he met my weakening gaze.

  “That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

  “You… you don’t understand,” I pleaded. “I can’t be a part of this. What you’re proposing is… it’s insane.”

  I waved towards the burning pile of bodies nearby, coughing at the smell. “This little fight tonight is one thing… but going into Mexico to fight this cartel? Just loading up men and guns, and bringing the fight to their turf? That might have worked nearly a decade ago, but you can’t get away with that now!�
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  Hunter pushed off of the support beam and walked over to my side. He brushed a few strands of hair from in front of my eyes, and smiled softly in the moonlight.

  “Sarah… I don’t expect you to understand. All I ask for is your trust… Have faith in me. I know what I’m doing, and my men believe in me. Can you do the same?” He whispered, pressing his lips lightly to my forehead.

  I shook my head. “This is crazy.”

  “It’s not as crazy as you think…”

  I pulled away from him. “Whatever you’re planning, you’re going to get a lot of men killed. Heads are going to roll for this.”

  Hunter crossed his arms, looking as confident as ever. “I’m counting on it… but none of them are going to be from the men on my side. My Devil’s Dragons will shed blood over this, and I fully expect all of them to come back with me.”

  I sighed in exasperation. “Do you even have a plan, Hunter? Do you really know what you’re doing here?”

  “I’m working on it,” he chuckled. “And in the morning, I suspect that I’ll have enough to push forward. Just give me a little time.”

  I thought of my Lieutenant, back in Phoenix. “Time is not a luxury I really have, Hunter…”

  He leaned forward, lips planted against mine. “One day. Give me one more day to figure things out, and then make your decision. But if you want to find those girls, there’s your chance.”

  I pulled away from him and shook my head. “That’s what you said about tonight… how many chances do I have to give you?”

  Hunter turned away, his face unreadable.

  When I started walking away from the burning pile of cartel corpses, he called after me. “Where are you going?”

  “I’m getting out of here, and I’m praying that I can still salvage part of my career when I get back to Arizona…”

  “So, that’s it?” He asked calmly. “You’re just going to give up and go without seeing this through? You go out of your way to convince me that you’ll stick it out this time, and now you’re just going to freeze up again and take the easy way out?”

  I paused in my tracks.

  What if that was exactly what I was doing?

  When it became clear that I didn’t have an answer for that, I slumped against the side of the farmhouse. My inner strength gave out, and the tears started to stream down my face…

  13

  The ride back to the dilapidated bar felt like it lasted hours, although it was only maybe twenty minutes before we pulled up into the gravel.

  The bikers strolled into their headquarters, and began tending to their wounded. Three of them had taken bullets – one in the shoulder, and two in the leg.

  These club members weren’t going to see action for a little while, but Hunter ensured that they were well taken care of. He said they had a sympathetic doctor hanging round a nearby after-hours clinic, and I watched the three of them get hauled off to get patched up.

  I took a seat at the bar countertop, sipping a glass of water. Hunter was busy checking on his men, but kept glancing over my way. When his phone buzzed, he stepped aside to take a quick phone call.

  Grizz was left in charge, and he took the moment to step behind the bar. He looked me over briefly before pouring a tumbler of whiskey.

  “You look like you could use something stiffer than tap water,” he muttered as he placed the short glass in front of me.

  “How could you tell?” I asked, gratefully smiling as I kicked back the drink.

  “Just a hunch,” he answered.

  We stayed in silence for a moment – me, glancing over the bikers as they shed their equipment and cleaned their weapons, and him, eyeing me cautiously.

  “Why are you here?”

  “Excuse me?” I asked, turning back to face Hunter’s second-in-command. The question was so direct that I wasn’t sure what to do with it.

  “I asked, ‘Why are you here?’” He repeatedly softly, his piercing eyes trained onto mine. I almost felt like he was looking right through me, into my very soul.

  “I… because I’m looking for missing girls,” I answered quickly. “Cheerleaders.”

  “Right,” Grizz nodded contemplatively, before suddenly shaking his head. “No, that’s not right. What are you really here for?”

  “I don’t know what answer you’re trying to angle for there, buddy, but you’re doing a pretty bad job of it.” I laughed, taking another swig of whiskey.

  “You know what I mean.”

  The awful part was, I did know.

  “It’s not like that,” I insisted.

  “Like what?” He tilted his head thoughtfully.

  “You think I’m just here for Hunter, and that I don’t really care about my case at all.”

  “I never said that.”

  “Oh, come on,” I insisted, setting the whiskey glass down. “You think that I’m here to fuck your boss and play at being a detective? I’m following a lead on a case – my first case. I’m here because you guys were doing a private investigation into the missing girls, and I want to know what you came up with. And Hunter…”

  “Hunter is being who he is,” Grizz shrugged.

  “Something like that.” I thought on this for a moment. “What do you know about the missing girls? You’re his right-hand man. Do you know anything else about them?”

  Grizz thought for a moment.

  “I know that we found them once.”

  If I’d been holding the tumbler in my hand in that moment, it would inevitably have shattered against the floor.

  “You… you what?!”

  Grizz shrugged again. “Hunter didn’t mention it?”

  Hellfire spilt down into my veins; my sight went blurry with building, condensing anger. I was so enraged to hear this that I could have spit straight poison.

  I glared straight into those pale eyes.

  “Tell. Me. Everything.”

  Grizz met my furious glance, pausing uncomfortably. His sharp, pale eyes were suddenly occupied with a disarming sadness.

  “We tried to help,” he simply spoke.

  “You tried to help how?”

  For a moment, he glanced over my shoulder at the busy bikers – all spread around the club and clearly exhausted.

  “It was two weeks after they were kidnapped. Hunter found evidence that they were closer than the authorities thought, and we caught wind that they were there in Tucson, hidden in a cartel-owned warehouse…”

  “And you… found them?”

  “Briefly,” he clarified quietly. “Hunter was the one to discover their location. They were under lock and key, surrounded by members of Víboras Verde. There were too many of them. We were outnumbered two to one.”

  “…What did he do?” I demanded.

  “He had a very difficult choice to make,” Grizz explained apologetically. “Striking the cartel would have put his men and the girls at risk… Or he could alert the police and try to call down a raid on the warehouse. Everybody knew how much money was being poured into this investigation by the state… ”

  I felt woozy.

  I knew how this had ended.

  “He went to the police,” I groaned, “and that didn’t go over so well.”

  “Correct,” Grizz replied calmly as he cleaned out a glass with a rag, feigning activity to keep talking to me. “Hunter’s information got his ass locked up in interrogations for hours with the club members in his company. Myself included.”

  “And by the time he went back…”

  “They were gone, yes.”

  The pit in my stomach grew deeper than ever. Hunter had told me that he’d gone to the cops with some evidence of the cartel’s workings, and some intelligence on where to possibly find them… Turns out he had found the girls and lost them, thanks to goddamned police incompetence.

  My blood was boiling as hard as ever, but this time, it wasn’t because Hunter had hidden something from me after all… it was because he had come so close to saving them, and ineptitude and p
rejudice had robbed him of his chance.

  “What can you tell me about the Desert Owl?” I asked suddenly, turning to Grizz again.

  He paused in mid-swipe on another glass, refusing to look at me. “Trust me… you already know more than you ever want to know about him,” Grizz cryptically explained.

  “He’s an interrogator, right? That’s a weird name for one of those… I know that he’s a combat medic, but that’s about it…”

  Grizz sighed heavily. “He joined the armed forces to see bloodshed. He wanted to witness the horrors of war right up front and center, and so he enlisted in the medical division to treat amputations and infections on the front lines.”

  I swallowed.

  What kind of people has Hunter conspired with to keep the peace out here? What kind of man does it make him to have someone like this at his beck and call?

  “I know what you are thinking, Sarah,” Grizz quietly informed me. “You are questioning the sanctity of the man who was your lover.”

  “Something like that,” I agreed.

  “Are you a good churchgoing woman?” he asked quietly.

  “Not quite,” I replied, taking notice of the small cross hanging round Grizz’s neck. I hadn’t been inside a church in twenty years…

  “Allow me to be perfectly clear…” he replied as the glass and its rag were set down. All illusions that this conversation wasn’t happening were cast aside.

  “…I do not serve evil men,” Grizz told me under no uncertain terms, “nor do I serve men who maintain the company of the wicked. I follow the president of the Devil’s Dragons club because he has steered us from wanton violence and cruelty… He is my King Solomon, and I am his Benaiah. Hunter doesn’t enjoy fighting these evils. He does not pride himself on it. He has gathered allies, forged truces, and curried the favor of hundreds. Hunter works with men who walk the path of the righteous…”

  I didn’t have words to reply, but I didn’t have to. Grizz turned to watch as Hunter stepped back into the club, looking worn and fatigued. The events of the night were starting to weigh on him.

  I could only imagine that whoever was on the other end of the phone hadn’t exactly made things easy, either.