by Nicole Snow
He grunted one last time and dropped, a mess of shattered ribs and fucked up organs. His gun clattered on the floor.
I was reaching for it and praying like hell Block wouldn't have time to shoot when the bullet went off. Fucking thing roared right past my ear, one inch away from putting me down for good.
Emma screamed, awake from the hellish commotion. So did Block.
I turned, untangling my chains and trying to raise the gun. Wasn't easy with my arm all fucked up. Fire blistered from my shoulder blade right up to the socket, making it damned near impossible to point at anything.
Come on, dammit! Just one more move for Em. Put these cocksuckers down for good.
Emma and Block were all tangled up. He was trying to choke her, but not very well. With a cowardly yelp, he rolled off her and crashed to the floor when my gun swung toward him. Then I saw the syringe jammed right in his chest, dangerously close to the heart.
Emma. I grinned, wondering what the fuck she'd shot into his veins.
I didn't even hesitate. I stepped up, forced my shitty arm to work, and pulled the trigger. Fire ripped up my head, raging hellfire lashing every inch of my body. But not as much as the molten lead I pumped into his skull.
My ears were so wild with pain they didn't register the blast. When I looked down again, Blocks' nasty fucking face was destroyed, one eye obliterated, his skullcap gone from the two rounds I planted there.
Emma was off the bed. Her hands wrapped around my waist weakly, reaching for my arm with the gun in hand.
She knew I was fucked up. The other fuck against the wall was barely breathing. He'd bleed out internally sooner or later, yeah, but I wasn't taking any fucking chances. The last Rams' appointment with Satan's Scythe was way fucking overdue.
“Let me help,” she whispered, pressing one hand on my back to guide me forward.
I didn't squeeze the trigger 'til I had my gun against his head. I spread myself out to shield her from the blood spatter. Skull, brains, and hot lead buried itself in the wall. Socket slumped, finally returned to the hell his ass crawled out of.
My hand seized. The gun clattered on the floor. I couldn't grip shit in my fucked up arm anymore, my nerves turned to pure fire. Emma put her little hand over mine and then gently ran her hands up my shoulders, nudging me toward the door.
I could barely feel it, but fuck if having her there, safe and mostly sound, didn't feel good.
“We made it. They're all dead. Let's go home. Steady...steady...”
How the fuck did she do it? The girl had just survived certain death and defilement, and she still whispered into my ear like a damned angel, airy and sweet as the first day I saw her.
I had to stop and lean on the shitty bar several times on the way to her car. Started to blubber about the prospects when we got outside, but she stroked my shoulders again, telling me they were fine.
It wasn't 'til I was lying in her backseat that my eyes focused again. She got in and started her engine, pulling away from this nightmare for good.
“I'm so fucking sorry, Em. You never should've come for me. I can't believe how close you came to –“
“And you shouldn't have gone by yourself. We're both alive and in one piece, aren't we, Tank? You saved me.”
“Yeah, babe. You saved my ass too.” It felt so fucking weird to say it, but she had a point.
Her face was messed up in the mirror. The bruises those fuckheads left were starting to show, and it made me want to kill them all over again. Yet, she was all there beneath it all, safe and beautiful as the Em I knew, the Em I'd pledged my soul to.
“Fuck, babe. We've suffered enough shit to keep doing this. I get it. I really do. Don't let me talk about leaving you again. Slap me right across the fucking face.”
She laughed, perfect and bright as the first pale sunlight spilling onto the car from over the mountains. “You're not going anywhere, Tank. An old lady stays at her man's side through thick and thin. Once you put your brand on me, it's never coming off. Never. I don't care how many times we fuck up, freak out, and just screw off. You're the only man I'll follow to the ends of the earth.”
Inside my fucked up brain, the fire in my arm was making things hell. But here, with her, it was total heaven.
The worry squatting on my chest all these months like a goddamned two ton elephant was gone. Whatever else this shitty episode had done, it pried open my fucking eyes.
Now, I couldn't unsee it: Emma was right, and she deserved to be here, right by my side.
Having her brought balance to my crazy, top heavy ass. I'd never have it any other way again.
One Week Later
Blaze twirled the gavel in his hand. I gritted my teeth. Only a few more hours 'til I'd be able to move my damned hands like that again. The sling locking up my arm was coming off today.
He looked right at me and pointed. “Tank did the heavy lifting here, but it's club business, and all the brothers deserve to know.”
He looked like a judge. Well, a heavily tattooed judge who pumped iron and wore leather with the dirtiest fucking mouth any courtroom had ever seen. Appropriate, though, since he had my fate right in his fucking hands.
It was my ass on the line, but I could feel every other brother in the room tensing up with me.
“The DA's office took the bait this morning,” Blaze said. “ATF signed off on it too as soon as they got the guns into their possession. Said the shit we pointed them to at the Rams' clubhouse was the biggest haul of heavy weapons since they busted some cartel down in Texas a decade ago. Mickey's loot just saved Tank a prison sentence.”
Fuck! I slumped in the chair, sucking in a heavy breath. All the brothers chuffed. Their eyes were on me. There wasn't space to crowd around me all at once and slap my back, so they showed their appreciation in a different way.
Their fists hit the table in pairs, loud and wild, booming thunder that shook the fucking rafters. Blaze and Stinger were the last ones to join in, their thin, constrained smiles giving way to full on shit eating grins.
“Welcome home, bro. This time, for good.” Blaze extended a hand to me and the biker applause tapered off.
I took it. Squeezed that man's hand harder than anybody's since I was discharged from the Army.
“It's not just Tank who's off the hook here, boys,” Blaze said, turning back to the rest of the brothers. “Throwing the Feds a fucking bone should deflect the heat for awhile. But that doesn't mean we get sloppy. The rogue agent Tank killed and nearly went to prison for won't be the last asshole who comes sniffing around this club – especially with Throttle wanting to step up the shipments before Jack Frost settles in for good.”
Several brothers flexed their fists, a sign of irritation. Everybody was wound so damned tight lately the whole club was gonna explode if we didn't catch a fucking break.
Whatever. Blaze helped my ass out, and I was gonna stand behind my boss. He made the tough calls because he needed to. Not because they let him run a damned popularity contest.
“The Rams are dead. Every last one of them. With nobody left to patch over, this territory's all ours, Devils' land through and through. We shouldn't have any more distraction. If there's anything good that came outta this shitstorm, it's that. I'll make sure those shipments move onto Seattle, smooth as whiskey.” I locked eyes with Blaze, and he nodded, showing his appreciation.
Stinger cocked his head. “You got a point, brother. I'm not gonna say there's a silver lining in shitting my guts out for three fucking days after that crap went through my system, but you're right about getting things on track.”
“All things considered, we're pretty friggin' lucky to be around for more shits at all, brother.” Moose leaned back in his chair, hands folded on the back of his big head. “I thought it was a heart attack soon as I went down.”
“You scared the fuck outta everybody when you caved like a fucking mammoth,” Reb laughed. Moose shot him a dirty look. “Hey, bro, I'm just fucking with you. Everybody here got a piece
of it except Tank and the prospects. I skinned my throat barfing this crap too.”
“It's hard to believe a simple mistake's the reason why we're all here, breathing and bullshitting,” Blaze said. He looked at me. “Emma's friend said we would've been gone before anybody treated us if that shit was concentrated just a little more.”
I shrugged. “Like I said when we first debriefed, we'll never know what the fuck happened there. Don't know if the whore did us a solid intentionally because she hated their asses that much, or if she was just so blazed out of her mind she couldn't follow through on her idea. All I know is she didn't bat an eye while they beat her up in that fucking room where I was tied down. When I woke up, half her head was gone, and the rest is history.”
“History,” Blaze repeated. “We won't forget it, but we're not gonna fixate on any bullshit in the past neither. Right now, I'm all about the future. This club's been through pure hell, one goddamned thing after another ever since we started this charter less than a year ago. Doesn't mean we stop doing what we do best, bros. We live free, we have our fun, and we grow our family when the time's right. We got better times ahead. I feel it in my fucking bones.”
Blaze's stare was intense. I nodded along with several other brothers, hoping like hell he was right.
“We got my wedding in Reno coming up. Our white hat businesses are starting to boom. Plenty of money and Jack to go around, and for now, no more assholes to worry about.” He smiled. “It's as good a time as any to add a few new bros to this MC.”
“Been a long time coming,” Stinger said.
“You're damned right. Per the Devils' charter, I'm calling a formal vote on giving Smokey and Stone their patches. These two have proven themselves twice on the big things recently, and lots of little shit before. They're bad enough and smart enough to think for themselves, but they know how to take orders too, the same as everybody else in this club.” Blaze paused.
I raised my good hand that wasn't in the sling. “Seconded, Prez. Let's vote.”
The boys did their job. If they hadn't been there to help my ass out, things might've gone differently for me and Em at the Rams' shitty clubhouse.
Blaze already had a damned good idea how the vote was gonna go. He was so confident he called it for both dudes, and the ayes rolled out unanimously.
“Okay.” Blaze's gavel slapped the wood with a loud clap. “Roller, go bring those two in. Stinger, help me get these ready.”
The Prez stood up, walked to a box behind him underneath the MC's flag, and grabbed the two new cuts. Roller stepped outside and came back a minute later, holding open the door.
Smokey slowly wheeled Stone in. He wasn't as lucky as me in his first big gun fight, and he'd be in that chair for a few more weeks according to Em.
The prospects moved slow as molasses. All the brothers suppressed their snickers. Even I fought down a big fat smile. They couldn't see shit with the thick black hoods over their heads.
Both those boys were shitting their pants. I could tell just by looking at the way their chests were moving, taking big breaths, wondering if they were gonna be their lasts.
“Up there at the head of the table,” Roller said, as coldly as he could manage. “The Prez wants a word with you.”
He gently pushed on Smokey's back. The prospect's hands were shaking on the handles for Stone's wheelchair. The man sitting there kept turning his head back and forth, even though he couldn't see shit, no doubt wondering if it was gonna the last time he moved his face while it was intact.
“Stop,” Roller said, as soon as they were a couple inches from the Prez and VP.
I rocked my fucked up arm gently in the sling to keep from laughing. Moose nearly lost it and buried his face in his hands, pulling on his beard to stifle the chuckles.
“This is where you've ended up,” Blaze growled. “Both you assholes. Go ahead and think you can hide from the devil, bros, but don't you think for one second you're gonna hide your shit from me. Everything you've done...fuck. It's time you bros got what you deserve. Long overdue. Every fucking inch of it.”
Even through the tight hood, I watched a huge lump slide down Smokey's throat. Blaze spread the cut in his hands, turning it around so they'd be greeted with the patch first. Stinger did the same.
“Roller.” Blaze paused, licking his lips. “Remove their hoods and let them pay their respects to Satan.”
Grinning, Roller reached for their throats, pulling on the cords there to loosen the tight fabric. In one quick jerk, the hoods were off.
The two prospects stared at the grinning devils on their new leather like idiots. I couldn't contain my smile anymore, remembering how the club razzed my ass when I earned my patch. Everybody went through this shit, but it was always unique.
“Congratulations, brothers,” Stinger said. “You've both earned these patches with all the voting rights and privileges they're entitled to.”
“Yeah. Congrats.” Grinning at last, Blaze shoved the cut he was holding forward at the same time as Stinger. “Now don't let both your heads swell up so damned big they sweep you off your fucking feet.”
Everybody laughed. The two new full patch brothers turned their cuts over in amazement, and then shed their old prospect leather to don the new skins with full patch colors.
Blaze and Stinger took their seats. Any church session where a brother was patched in was a good church session. Still didn't compare to having Emma wrapped around me, though.
We'd been cooped up in the room for over an hour, and I was starting to get anxious. Blaze must've sensed as much because he slapped the gavel to call order with everybody laughing and congratulating the new brothers.
“All right. Unless anybody else has any pressing shit we need to wrangle with today, I'm gonna bring this to a close so we can saddle up for the pig roast tomorrow night.”
Heads nodded enthusiastically. Everybody had something to do now that we were getting deeper into autumn. Half the men were tuning up their bikes, and dudes like Moose had family shit to tend to. Smokey and Stone just wanted to hit the town and show off their new patches.
Me? I wanted Emma. Soon as that gavel knocked, I was heading straight for her sweet ass, and I wasn't gonna stop 'til it was in my hands.
Blaze waited. Nobody raised a peep. The sound I'd been waiting for clapped as wood smacked wood.
I slid out of my chair and met Blaze's eyes.
“Today's the day you're getting that fucking thing off, isn't it?” He pointed to my sling.
“Yeah. Heading over to have Em do it right now, boss.”
“Good. You're gonna need that hand free for getting your brand on her.” He grinned and pressed a friendly hand to my shoulder. “Don't let your old lady walk around another day without it. Show everybody she's fucking yours.”
“I'm putting it there if I can't even sign my own fucking name, boss. No doubt about it.” I took another step forward, then stopped and looked back. “Gonna put a nice ring on that girl's finger one day soon too. Same as you and Saffron.”
Blaze laughed and I beat it before he could give me more shit. On the way out, I saw Stinger standing near the door, talking to Roller.
“Found this before we turned that shithole over to the Feds,” he told the VP. “Thought you should have it.”
Stinger snatched the small card from Roller's hand. I only caught a glimpse, but it looked a lot like a driver's license. The dark haired girl in the portrait couldn't be anybody except Alice.
Blaze was walking over, right behind me. They flashed him the license and I stopped for a few more seconds to stare. Yep, it was her, all right.
“Fuck, Prez. Do you see this shit? She's got Mickey's blood. Maybe a niece...maybe his own fucking daughter. Shit, I have to get this to her.” Stinger started to march, but Blaze reached out and caught him by the shoulder.
“Give her some space, bro. She blew this fucking place early this morning. Couldn't tell you where.”
“She needs to know!” Stinger
growled, his face going dark.
“Only if she wants to. Look, this club's nursed too many fucking strays back to good health in the recent past. The bitch made it crystal-fucking-clear she wanted to forget whatever the hell happened. Pretty sure she wants to forget our asses too. It's not your place to chase her down and shove things in her skull she's not ready for.”
Stinger pinched his fist, completely covering up the license. “You know what? Fuck this, Prez. Fuck it all. And fuck her too!”
I stepped aside as Stinger stormed past. The VP nearly ripped the door off its hinges. Blaze looked at me next, quietly seething.
Fuck it was right, just not the way Stinger meant. I turned and headed out the door before I got drawn into any more drama.
It didn't seem like the VP and his new obsession were ever gonna have a happy ending, but then it looked the same way with Emma and me for a long fucking time.
Not my problem. Not my drama. Alice and Stinger would write their own fucking ending.
Everything I needed for the rest of my days was waiting in the infirmary. And I needed her now.
My brain fought almost as hard as my dick when I saw her. Shit, how the fuck did she manage to look so damned good in her scrubs?
When I cracked the door, she was bent over, filing some medical stuff away. My cock jerked instantly, straining in my fucking jeans.
I hadn't had so much as a blow in the past week since the blowout with the Rams. Tonight, she was all mine, and I was gonna show her tight pink pussy how bad I missed it.
Emma squealed when I came up behind her. She was deliciously small next to me. Thank God it wasn't hard to pick her up with one arm and pull her in.
“I see you're excited to get that thing off!”
“Babe, you don't have a fucking clue. Let's do this.” I plopped down on the stainless steel table while she retrieved the scissors.
I was horny and excited as fuck. Had to ignore the persistent yapping voice in the back of my head that was worried. Sooner or later, my luck would run out. I was gonna take a beating one day that wouldn't be so easy to heal from. I never knew if my body was fixed 'til it was doing what it was supposed to.