by Kayce Kyle
I sit straight up to process what I just heard before my feet hit the floor. Making my way toward the closet. “A what, and where?”
Sternly and sharply she turns to face me. “You heard me. I want an Art Gallery in Dallas. Before you go all…Hulk, let me explain. I want to own and present different pieces of Art. I don’t have to move, or even live there. Our home is here. I can drive in maybe once a month for a week.”
My eyes narrow at that last part.
Taking notice, she compromises. “Or weekend. But I am not asking, Justice. I will do this. So, you’re either in, or you’re out. Your call.”
Like I told her, she can have whatever she wants. I know Art is a big part of who she is. It caused us problems before, I won’t let it happen again.
“Okay.” I raise my hands up in admission of defeat. “But I will be going with you on those weekends just so we’re clear.”
Raising to her tip toes, she kisses my cheek. “Absolutely.”
Chapter 17
Justice
Three Weeks Later
Ace and Tess have gone to Ace’s. Things have been relatively quiet.
My patience has been slowly dwindling away, although I try to never let Jen know. It’s actually been quite nice and this upcoming weekend, I have a surprise for my girl.
However, that girl always manages to one-up me in the surprise department. Since I won’t let her go anywhere without me, she has become an online shopaholic. My entire house is unrecognizable. To me anyway. I had no clue the things you could purchase online. Some safari website she’s found and fallen in love with. I made the mistake of giving her my fucking credit card. Next thing I know, she’s painted bedrooms, bathrooms, and fucking lined my walls with art.
So, I snuck on this fucking website and bought a frame for the canvas she’d painted. It now hangs above our bed.
It’s been a fucking tug of war with her. After I bought, framed and hung the canvas-she had a god damned outside bar and grill installed.
So then, I snuck back online while she was sleeping and ordered everything you could imagine possible for an art room. I think I may have spoiled that surprise when I had no choice but to ask her what type of paint she paints with. That shit was confusing as hell. Oil, Acrylic, and on and on until it gave me a fucking headache. I ended up just buying some of each. Different sized easels, canvases, brushes, drop cloths. Shit was grueling.
She’s gone with me to the game room every night since we’ve settled back into a semi-normal routine. When I’m at work she tries to man the fucking thing right alongside me. I’ve been letting her. We’re always strapped and behind bullet proof glass, well she is. I make her stay there if I have to go outside of the office.
Took her to Dark Soulz Ink and got her Soul Shifterz MC logo tatted on her back. In between her shoulder blades, just below her neck. That was a good fucking day. Took her home and we celebrated and fucked all over the damn house. There’s likely not a surface one I haven’t claimed my girl on. Just the way I’d wanted it.
Pres has never been happier. We had a huge barbeque in celebration. She has her own cut now. She’s only gotten out of her sassing once without being punished. Only because my little spitfire fucking seduced me by wearing that, and only that. I caught on quickly when she tried it the next day. Taunting and teasing me about my ‘fit for a Queen’ bathroom and closet. Never a dull moment with my baby.
Vault came over that first night and installed cameras everywhere. In every room. I have a monitor that is constantly switching back and forth between all the rooms. The outside of the house, on the sides. Hell, I even had him install a GPS tracker on her cell phone just in case. She doesn’t know. I want her to feel like she still has some control over her life. At least until we have Dane and Littlejohn eliminated. I also had him install a GPS locator on my phone. I wanted every base covered.
I look at the monitor and see her looking so beautiful right now. No idea what she’s fucking wearing but it’s so damn sexy. Looks like a fucking thin white strapless sheet tied in the front somehow. It’s short and she’s barefoot with her hair up in a bun or something. She looks so peaceful and content.
The vibrating of my cell phone interrupts the beauty I’m watching. This shit better be good.
“What’s up, Pres?” I ask as I see his name light up across the screen.
“Such a good little enforcer, aren’t you? Only took one ring,” the voice on the other end instantly forms rage and fucking pure insanity to course through my veins. Fucking Littlejohn.
“You piece of shit! If you’ve harmed my Pres or his ‘Ol Lady,” I growl out before he halts my words.
Now pacing the floor and coursing my fingers through the top of my hair.
“Oh, Justice Paine.” He chuckles in the creepiest way imaginable. “How’s my brother’s girl? I hear you’ve been looking after her here lately.”
Nausea pushes against the back of my throat. “Your what…your brother?” My head begins reeling trying to piece this shit together.
I grab my emergency phone and text Ace SS911. Our code for an immediate fucking danger and emergency.
“Where’s my Pres you motherfucker?” I need to keep him on long enough to track his whereabouts.
Ace comes flying up on his bike. Then uses his key entering, also alarming Jenalyn.
They both come barreling into the bedroom and I put my hand up to keep them quiet.
Littlejohn’s slithering voices connects back into my ear again just as I get a ping on his location. He’s at Pres’ fucking house. “Tonight, eight o’clock. Bring that fucking tramp and you can have your fucking Pres’. And his bitch.” I hear Lorna cry out and Pres hollering something unintelligible. “The warehouse. You remember the one, right? The one where you killed a bunch of my buddies from the Death Destructorz?” he says before hanging up.
Immediately Ace and I send out our code to the entire club, followed by PRES’ HOUSE NOW!
Frantic, as I’m sure she can see it all over my face. “Justice what is it?”
I can’t fucking answer her right now. I look at Ace. “Where’s Tess?”
Hoping she can keep Jenalyn company while I go kill these motherfuckers.
“Justice Paine, you better fucking answer me!” Her anger causes her to throw whatever paint brush that was in her hand across the room.
Grabbing her shoulders, I need her to calm down. I need to get to Pres quickly. “One fucking second, god dammit,” I say as sternly and nicely as I possibly fucking can.
“Tess left this morning. I woke up and she was just…gone. Left a note. Said she’d call Jenalyn after she made it back to Cali. I’ll deal with that shit later,” Ace states. “Let’s ride, bro!”
Fucking torn as I look at my world staring back at me. I see an array of emotions displayed on her face. Anger, confusion, and pain. Fucking pain. She’s begging me with her illuminating eyes for answers. I cannot give them to her right now and it feels like someone is slowly ripping my heart right out of my chest.
Looking at Jenalyn, I say, “You’re gonna have to trust me.” I slide her pistol over to her suggestively. “Keep this on you at all times. I’m gonna see if one of the brothers can come over and sit with you, but I gotta ride. Now!”
She gulps hard and her face loses a shade of color. “Okay, I trust you. Go!”
I needed her understanding and trust right now possibly more than ever.
Quickly I kiss her hard and Ace and I ride.
I have a Bluetooth attached that I use when I ride. I call Joker to go sit with Jen, only he doesn’t answer.
I call my pops, and he doesn’t answer. God dammit. I nod over at Ace riding beside me and we break free. Burning rubber and running fucking lights the whole way to Pres’ house.
When we pull up, my pops, Joker, Ty, Vault, and the others are outside. It’s surreal as there’s an ambulance and Burkes’ police car.
The flashing blue and red lights could be seen a mile away. It must be fuckin
g bad for one of our guys to have called a damn ambulance.
Ty takes one look at me and fury covers his face. “You fucking fool!” he shouts before hopping on his bike and taking off.
As much as I wanna beat his ass, he’s right. How could I let something like this happen to Pres and Lorna?
As Ace and I approach the ambulance my Pops and Burkes step in front of me. “You don’t wanna see him like this, Son,” my pops says through his watery eyes.
“And Lorna?” I ask as the ambulance races off.
Tears prick the back of my eyes as I fight them back. My veins feel like they’re popping out all over my body. The purest need for revenge for all three of them now clouds out any other thought.
“Lorna’s fine. Other than some cuts and scrapes. Says it was Littlejohn and Dane that snuck up on ‘em after their ride home last night. Dane shot Pres, Son,” my pops informs me. “Lorna’s riding with Pres to the hospital. Where’s Jenalyn, Son?”
My head is now pounding harder as the slow realization begins to set in.
Motherfucker. I throw my fucking helmet across the yard and it shatters into pieces upon contact. This was a distraction. How fucking stupid can I be?
Ace and I hop on our bikes. My Pops whistles for the rest. Everyone follows as we race back to my place.
Again, running every light, we are flying in formation. Pops and I in the front. The ride back to my place feeling much longer than it took getting to Pres’.
Jenalyn
My body feels flush and I begin to panic. As much as I trust Justice, I need answers. This is my family and club, too.
Quickly I change. Throwing on a pair of my ripped jeans, a plain black tank, finally topping it off with my own cut that still awaits my official title. Something about the way it feels draped over my shoulders immediately shifts my mentality.
Tucking my pistol in the back of my jeans, I head toward the kitchen to grab the keys to the Camaro. That is my family. My man. I won’t let anyone fucking harm them. Especially someone who is targeting me.
As I pass by the monitors, I can make out two men attempting to sneak up the front of each side of the house.
I duck down in place. Two of them, and one of me. It’s sunset and the glare it’s putting off is hindering a clear view. I can tell they aren’t wearing cuts, and our guys would be wearing their MC cuts.
I peek back up at the monitor, the sun still blinding most of my view.
Now there’s a third man, and he is most definitely wearing a cut. Fuck. I can’t make out whose, or what it is.
All I hear are shots fired and I reach for my cell phone to call Justice. Only he isn’t fucking answering.
I stand up and slide against a wall quickly to shield myself. Grabbing the nine millimeter from the back of my jeans, I hold it close to my chest.
An urgent, yet familiar voice is calling out from the other side of the front door.
“Jenalyn! Open the fucking door, it’s Ty!”
I blow out a breath of relief as his voice soothes the pounding in my chest.
Opening the door, he quickly closes it and grabs me. Shielding me with his body he pins me against the wall. “We’ve gotta get you outta here, quick.”
“The keys to the Camaro are in the kitchen. Where’s the other guy? Who are they?” I question.
“It’s Littlejohn and,” he silences for a fraction of a second, “Dane. I killed Dane, Littlejohn got away. We gotta get you outta here, now come on!”
Adrenaline swims endlessly throughout my veins as I try to both process information and oblige Ty.
He grabs my hand, keeping me close behind him. His gun is drawn and with every corner we turn, so does his pistol.
“Not so fast, motherfucker,” Littlejohn says standing in the kitchen. Both men have guns pointed at each other. Littlejohn takes the time to actually spit on the floor.
Ty pulls me in closer behind him. “Shoot his ass,” I whisper through straight lined lips.
The sound of multiple bikes flood my ears and I’ve never felt so relieved because I know the crew is here and Littlejohn is as good as dead. Only I want to be the one to kill him.
“You hear that?” Ty asks Littlejohn. “That’s the grim reaper coming for your ass. You’re dead you piece of shit.”
“Sure are,” I say as I quickly raise my gun up, and around Ty firing off a shot at Littlejohn.
I fired my gun, and that’s the last thing I remember before being struck with what felt like a baseball bat and lightening straight through my right side.
Justice
As we pull up on my street, we split up. Half to the front, and half to the back.
Pops and Ace are with me as we pull up front. The first thing I notice is Ty’s fucking bike.
Racing to the front door, I notice a dead man’s body in my bushes. One shot, straight to the head.
Ready to shoot and kill either one, I point my gun toward Littlejohn first. Noticing he, Jenalyn, and Ty appear to be in some sort of standoff. At this point I am completely unsure and don’t trust any of these fuckers. I can have them both dead in one short second.
Nearly blinding flashes of light, followed by gunfire drown out my sound and vision. Ty appears to either be protecting Jen, or holding her fucking hostage. Littlejohn falls to the floor, and as bad as I want to riddle this fucker with more bullets-I notice Jen grab her side and fall limp in Ty’s arms.
“Nooooo!” I cry out as I race to her side and fall down beside her.
Ty is holding her, and I take her from his arms. “Call a fucking ambulance!”
“Jen. Jen! Don’t you fucking do this shit to me!” I beg her as her eyes fade in and out.
I yank my cut off and my T-shirt, applying pressure to her wound.
Pulling her closer to me my tears are flowing freely as I beg her to stay with me.
Rocking her back and forth I plead, “God dammit you’re far too stubborn to have come this far and give up now and you know it. You’re a fighter Jenalyn Strong. I need you to fight baby and prove strong isn’t just your last name. I need you.”
She still has a pulse, but it’s weak.
An ambulance arrives and the paramedics and my brothers have to peel me off of her.
They work on her and quickly load her into the ambulance. “I’m riding with,” I tell them.
One of the paramedics looks at me and says, “Only immediate family members, I’m sorry.”
Not only do I pull out and point my gun directly in his face, but I hear the cocking of multiple guns behind me as reinforcement. “I am her immediate family and you’re wasting time motherfucker, now let’s go. Your job is to keep her alive. She dies, so do all of you.” I mean that statement with every fiber of my being, and they quickly realize I’m speaking the truth.
The little paramedic quickly complies and we load up and the only thing they asked from me was to stay out of their way. I agreed. As long as they kept my baby alive, I’d sit on the fucking bumper.
Chapter 18
Justice
Once at the hospital, a team waiting outside escorts her and the gurney fast as I keep up. There is a female doctor, her name reads S. Cole, M.D. and she starts asking a ton of questions to the paramedics I don’t understand.
As we reach a set of double doors, she stops me, gulps and through a shaky voice says, “Um…sir…Mr.”
I answer for her, “Justice Paine! What is it?”
“Y-you have to stay here.”
Like hell I do as I begin to push through and am stopped and held back by all my brothers.
My pops, Ace, Ty, Joker…hell all of them hold me back as I slowly sink to the floor.
Anguish, and pure heartache crash into, and through my very soul. I’ll never forgive myself for any of this. What kind of enforcer lets his Pres and his daughter get shot in the same day?
I can’t stop the fucking sobbing not knowing how my baby is doing.
“Here’s a shirt, bro,” Ty says and throws one at me.
I know my eyes are bloodshot and fucking swollen.
Standing up, I throw the shirt over my fucking shoulder, “How did you know and how could you let her get shot?” I cry out gripping his cut.
Ty’s eyes are filled with tears of his own and you can tell he’s running a mental marathon of guilt himself. “Justice, man…I know you’re hurting bro. I won’t pretend to know your fucking pain, but understand that it happened too fast. I’d give my life for her or Pres any damn day if given the chance.”
Joker walks up. “Lorna’s been notified. Pres is out of surgery. Heads up, here she comes.”
“You son of a bitch! My husband and now my daughter?” Lorna slaps me so hard across the face I need to readjust my jaw.
“Lorna.” My pops attempts to reason with her somehow, but I can’t even fault her.
She just collapses to the floor sobbing relentlessly. The scene is so horrific, staff comes out and she has to be sedated and put in a room of her own. My pops goes to keep an eye on her.
I call out to Joker and he comes over. “How’s Pres? Any word?”
He just looks down and all my brothers crowd around awaiting his answer. “He’s in a medically induced coma. He had a massive heart attack in the operating room. It’s touch and go right now. He’s in the Critical Care Unit.”
A variety of profanities are chanted out.
“I need a fucking cigarette,” Ty says as he walks off, kicking a chair in the waiting room.
My ass right here until I get word on my baby.
Like a scene from a horror movie unfolding-we rotate. Pacing the floors, sitting, standing still.
Hours go by and I’m living in pure fucking hell as I cannot do or think of anything other than my babygirl. This shit is fucking ridiculous. They should have to update by the minute.