Owen wasn’t stupid, though. Far from it. He moved closer to the desk, but he took off the safety and pointed the gun directly at my chest. “Move again, and I’m going to put a bullet in your head.”
I stilled and watched as he approached the desk, pulling the magazines out, gripping the spines, and shaking them violently. Naked girls rattled on the pages before he dropped one and grabbed another, the gun a constant and steady aim on my chest.
“Why did you do it?” I asked quietly. “Why would you betray the people most loyal to you?”
“You think I’m going to open up and confess all my sins to you, little girl?” He snorted out a bitter laugh, filled with hatred. “You think you can save yourself by spreading those legs and flashing Drew’s tight little bit of cunt at me? I’m not that fucking desperate, and I ain’t in the mood for confessions. Confessions mean you’ve been caught.”
“He’s going to kill you,” I said bluntly, changing my tactics. “He will hunt you down like a rabid dog, and he will kill you in a way that will make your worst nightmares seem pretty.”
“He ain’t that smart.”
“I think you underestimate him.”
“I think I estimate him just fine. He ain’t here, is he?” Owen spread his arms around the room making a point. I sneered at him, baring my teeth, my hatred now boiling in the center of my chest, white hot.
“Only because you ran like the little rat you are.”
That hit its mark. Owen made his way across the room in two steps and backhanded me so hard I could hear bells in my ears as my lip split open and my ass hit the mattress. Standing over me and panting, Owen tried to gather himself, his hands tugging on the edges of his cut, the gun making little metal scrapes against the fasteners.
Just seeing the patch on him made me more reckless. I couldn’t stand the thought of this man getting away from Drew and the others before they had their pound of flesh. I would do what I had to do to keep him talking. Even if it meant five more slaps across my face and a bullet in my chest. I wanted Drew to get his vengeance.
Pushing my tongue against the cut on my lip, I tasted the copper tang of blood and blinked back the tears at the sudden throbbing in my teeth. I wasn’t scared, not really. I was still in full control of my actions, so I swallowed the bitter tasting liquid and smirked.
“That all you got?” I asked smugly.
“Ayda, I’m not fucking with you. I’ll kill you.”
“I’m not scared of you.”
Owen gripped my hair in his fist and pulled my head back until I was faced with his twisted and contorted features. He loathed me—that much was obvious. He hated what I stood for and represented. At that moment, he didn’t have to say why he’d done what he’d done. I could see it in those piggy little eyes of his.
“I hope they tear you limb from limb and beat you within an inch of life and leave you for the rodents to feast on, you sad piece of useless shit.”
It wasn’t a slap this time. I felt the impact of his fist on my jaw, felt some of my back teeth loosen, and shuddered at the pop in my neck as it snapped to the side. White lights burst in my vision. Bells rung so loud that I couldn’t make out what Owen was screaming at me.
It took a while for the ringing to clear, even with the subtle shakes of my head to ward it all off. When sound finally started to penetrate again, Owen was still ranting over me.
“... won’t kill you yet, but you will fucking hurt, whore.”
“You hit like a girl,” I mumbled, wincing in pain. I knew I was provoking him again, but I needed an excuse to bend over and get the switchblade from my pocket because if I tried to reach it now, he’d know I was up to something, and I couldn’t risk that.
He took the bait, this time swinging at my stomach, so I was forced to double over. I could barely breathe through the pain. He’d winded me so thoroughly that my brain slowly started to panic as oxygen became thin. I tried my best to focus on the fold of the knife digging into my hip, and I gripped my stomach, hunching over myself.
It hurt so bad as the pain rattled down my thighs, and the sharp sting twisted in my gut.
“You’ve got a big fucking mouth on you. No wonder that boy is pussy whipped. Next thing you know, cooches like you will be wearing the cuts and calling the shots. Drew Tucker has made a fucking joke of this fucking club. All because of a decent lay.”
I groaned, slipped the knife from my pocket, and pushed it up my sleeve, my thumb finding the small button to release the blade.
“You don’t think much of women, do you?”
“You’re good for two things: fucking and reproducing.”
“Misogynistic pig.”
“I’ve been called worse.”
“I pity your wife,” I spat at him.
“Don’t you pity her. She’s living the high life now, well clear of Babylon.”
I frowned hard, both from the physical pain I was in and from the sudden confusion that was making riddles out of my thoughts. “You sent her away from here, didn’t you? You knew all this was coming?”
“Fuck knows what Drew sees in you.” He sighed heavily, avoiding my question. He slapped my cheek lightly, as though trying to sober me up as I blinked away the spots in my vision, and he gripped my face painfully. “Where’s all Harry’s shit on me, Ayda?”
I shrugged. I was humming from so much pain and adrenaline now that I was feeling slaphappy and reckless. Two things that had pretty much managed to get me into the predicament I was in already. I wasn’t sure if it was the ringing in my ears, but I swore I could hear the roar of bikes somewhere in the distance. When Owen shook me again, it took me a minute to realize that he’d heard them, too.
“Get up.”
“Why?” I asked, slurring a little.
“Because I’m planning on keeping this conversation between the two of us. And you’re now my leverage.”
“You’re going to use me as a hostage?” I laughed.
Owen ignored me and dragged me to my feet, the cold barrel of his gun pressing to the underside of my jaw as he pushed and dragged me through the building. The bar was still completely empty, but the noise of the bikes was growing louder, the sound of them all together like an angry hive of bees.
I knew I had to stall somehow and slow this all down. If Owen got away before Drew and the others got here, I was in trouble. Once we were outside of these walls, the evidence we had wouldn’t matter. He would get away and kill me out of spite because he knew that would hurt Drew.
I pulled and tugged against Owen’s grip. I writhed and kicked, my body fighting his every step of the way until sunlight flooded my vision, and I was pushed out onto the porch and down onto my knees just as the bikes approached the yard.
“He’s going to kill you, and I’m going to watch,” I said coldly as Owen tried to drag me by my hair to his bike. I pulled back, crying out at the feel of handfuls of roots shifted from my scalp.
Owen lifted his hand as though to slap me, and I struck. In a series of motions almost too smooth to believe, I ejected the blade, launched my body forward and drove the sharp end deep into Owen’s thigh, praying that I hit something good.
I didn’t.
In a spin of his body, Owen punched me so hard the whole world shuddered. I tried to catch my breath, but everything moved. My eyes wouldn’t focus, and the pain spread out inside of me so violently, I barely noticed the porch rising to greet my face until it was too late.
Chapter Thirty-Six
DREW
My gut led me back to her.
Half the men thought I was crazy to go back to The Hut, most of them choosing instead to take the roads leading out of Babylon to try to find a trail once I’d quickly barked out orders to them that Owen was a rat and he was also about to die. There’d been shock from some, and little surprise from others as I’d pointed down the road with my face turning red. Fucking find him, I’d shouted.
But I knew Owen. I knew that fucker and the way he worked. He had the mind of a s
nake, and snakes always hid in plain sight, ready to attack those they needed to swallow the most.
He was running, but he wasn’t running without insurance first.
Kenny had led some of the men down one highway, Deeks leading the rest of the crew. All that was left as we entered the yard were Slater, Jedd, me, and surprisingly… the kid, Rubin, who said he wanted to stay close to me now I’d just outed him in front of his own father.
All the ghosts of the road and all my fears dressed as demons taunted me the entire ride back to our home, and when I pulled into the yard, all I saw was a nightmare happening all over again. Only this time I was awake, not chained up and unconscious as Ayda watched me from the hands of my enemy. This time I could see it all.
Owen behind her.
Her hair in his hand, her face bloodied and swollen as her eyes remained shut and her legs looked weak.
Every curse word I’d ever known faded away, until nothing but silence rang in my ears, the sound of terror so deafening, I found my eyes scrunching shut for just a second before I spun the bike into position, not caring where it landed. Then I ran to her, eyes open and wide until I saw something that made me stop in my tracks.
My father.
Eric.
He was there, just as we’d planned, but obviously too late. Too late to save Ayda’s pain and too late to put a bullet in Owen’s temple, but he was there with a gun in his hand. His arms were raised high at Owen, unshaking and still as he studied his target through a skilled narrowed eye and waited patiently for the right moment to fire.
I was fucked. My breathing was ragged, a mixture of anger and dread stirring at once.
How many moments like this could we survive unscathed?
Three strikes we’d had.
Was this our out?
My nose curled, my teeth ground together and my jaw worked as I fisted my hands by my sides and turned my attention to Ayda and Owen.
Owen’s sadistic smile curled behind the wild mess of Ayda’s scrunched up hair which he was holding in his fist, his eyes going from left to right as he tried to do a mental count of everyone in sight.
“This isn’t exactly how I wanted this to go, Drew!” Owen called out from behind her; his gun aimed firmly at her temple as she swayed in his grip, her eyes fluttering open at the mention of my name. “But you always seem to find a way to make everything shit, don’t you?” Owen laughed maniacally, his voice high pitched and panicked, yet somehow sharp and threatening.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, aware of Jedd and Slater falling in line behind me, their guns aimed high, too.
“How do you do that?” Owen barked. He shuffled on his feet, his movements jerky and awkward like he was hurt. It was then that I let my eyes travel down, and I saw the blood collecting on the wooden porch beneath his feet.
She’d got him. Somehow, unless Eric had got there first, my girl had got him. The pride I felt knowing she’d put up a fight made my chest swell.
“You’ve got to be the worst motherfucking president of a motorcycle club that’s ever fucking existed,” Owen hissed, his face turning sour as he watched us all and tugged again at Ayda’s hair.
My hands rose, showing him I had no weapon and no bullets to fire his way. “No arguments from me there, Owen,” I said as calmly as I could, despite the vengeance rising in my throat, burning so hot I wanted to be sick.
He looked at the men surrounding me, knowing he was outnumbered.
“Why’d ya have to come back?” he cried, his face scrunching up. “Things were better without you. Things were calmer—smoother when you were in prison. Nobody even whispered your name. It was like you didn’t exist, and it was fucking beautiful. You were gone. Dead. Another ghost… just like Eric fucking Tucker.”
I glanced at my father from the corner of my eyes for only a second, seeing his eerie stillness as he remained in place, unfazed by Owen’s words.
“I was always coming back, Owen.”
“You were meant to die in there.” He spat, fists curling tighter in Ayda’s hair.
I nodded slowly, my nostrils flaring. “I know.”
“You were meant to fuck up, get more years added on. Or at the least, come out weak. Weak as piss and full of shit. That’s how it should have been. That’s what we tried to guarantee would happen.”
I was breathing like a bull, the angry muscles twitching in my jaw. “I know.”
“But then this bitch came along.”
I took a step closer too quickly. My need to save her was kicking in until I saw Eric side-eye me and offer a subtle shake of the head. Owen’s gun was too close to Ayda, and the finger he held over the trigger was unsteady, ready to pull back at any moment.
“What happens if you kill Ayda, Owen?”
“You live a life of misery.”
“Apart from that.”
“Maybe that’s enough for me.”
“Nah.” I shook my head, my lips tense and flat as I struggled not to charge at him. “That’s not enough for you. You want more than my misery. You need more than that. That’s why you got cozy with Mayor Walsh, right? That’s why you gave him intel on the club, told him shit he shouldn’t know, and then that fucker got to pass that knowledge onto whoever the fuck needed it. Anyone who wanted me dead. You wanted me gone so you could take the lead.”
Owen blinked, looking me dead in the eye before his shoulders started to shake and his laughter poured free. His head tipped back for just a second before he pulled Ayda closer, so his mouth was by her ear, his face turning darker.
“I don’t know what it is about this piece of pussy, but she somehow made you impossible to kill.”
I gulped again. “And how many times have you tried?”
“Too many.”
“Motherfucker,” I heard Slater whisper behind me.
“The Emps couldn’t kill you, even when I set that whole Widow Maker fake MC shit up for them and got those kids fixed up with old cuts and put all the plans in place for them to end your life in that warehouse. All they had to do was put a bullet in your head. But too many damn egos ended up being in one space, each trying to give the great Drew Tucker a performance before they put a bullet between his eyeballs. So, I turned to The Navs. And they only proved that they sure as shit don’t know what the hell to do with the rifles they have tattooed on their skin, even though I told them how to get rid of you that night at Rusty’s. Fuck... me. I can’t even get guys on board who know how to blow up a damn house and kill all the people inside it. Trust me to find the one bunch of men that let a girl like Ayda escape her own house before we blow it up. Fucking joke.” Owen sighed in frustration and shook his head. “Yeah, I’ve tried to finish you, Drew. In more ways than you know. Seems like the only way to make it happen is to do it myself.” He pushed the gun harder to Ayda’s head. “And if you won’t die on the outside, maybe I’ll just make sure you cease to exist on the inside by killing the one thing you love more than your own fucked up reflection.”
“I will make your death so slow, you’ll be screaming for weeks before you take your last breath,” I pushed out through gritted teeth.
“It’ll be worth it,” he sneered.
“Owen,” Eric said calmly, forcing Owen’s eyes to snap open and turn Eric’s way. I looked at him, too, not knowing what he was about to do. “Don’t hurt her.”
“What the fuck do you care, old man?”
Eric didn’t respond. His eyes didn’t flinch or flicker, and his arm was as steady as ever as he waited, gun held high and in place.
“Y’all are going to kill me anyway. There are three guns pointed at me right now, and one human bomb just waiting to be set free. I’m good, but I’m not that good. I can’t move that fast. If I let her go, I’ve got nothing. May as well take her out with me, right?” He tugged on Ayda sharply again, her eyes now popping wide open and her lips parting as she found me straight away and focused on my face.
That’s right, baby. Look at me. Use me as your anchor. You’re
not dying today. Not tomorrow. Not ever.
I’ve got you. Somehow…
“You can’t survive this, Owen,” Eric warned him.
“Then I may as well go out in a blaze of glory.” He grinned.
“Not before I’ve had some fun with you first,” I growled, forcing Owen’s attention back to me.
“I’ve never been scared of you, Tucker. That’s what you want people to be. All I see when I look at you is a boy who failed to become a man. A boy so unsure of himself, it makes me sick to watch you lead this club with that patch on your chest. You don’t scare me, Drew. I pity you.”
“Keep talking, Owen. Keep talking.” I glanced at Ayda, a silent message passing between us as I stared into the eyes of the woman I loved. And in that moment, as she stared back and held my gaze, I knew this wasn’t the last time I’d see her alive.
I knew because of the fire and grit that shone back at me, even with blood staining her skin and bruises swelling her cheek.
She wasn’t afraid.
She was pissed.
She was the fiancée of the president of The Hounds of Babylon.
Owen’s finger twitched on the trigger, his legs moving and forcing him to stumble to one side. I glanced down at his leg again, the one leaking blood and causing him pain. Then, I closed my eyes for just a few seconds, and I prayed to Pete and Harry for them to save us all somehow before I looked up at her again.
Ayda didn’t move for a moment. Her blue eyes were so intently focused on me that she appeared to be frozen. But then her hands dropped from Owen’s wrists; her left grabbing the hilt of the knife and twisting the blade in Owen’s leg harder. She didn’t wait to see if he’d pull the trigger or not, she just dropped to her hands and knees, the bloody knife still in her hand while Owen screamed like he’d been gutted.
I took one step forward before Eric moved, his walk calm and controlled as he shot four bullets directly into Owen’s body.
Shoulder. Bang
Arm. Bang
Leg. Bang.
The hand that was holding the gun. Bang.
“Don’t kill him!” I yelled, holding my hand out to Eric as I ran like I’d never run before, storming up the porch steps, unable to hear the guttural cries of Owen when I slid onto my knees without thought, dragged Ayda away from him as far as I can, and scooped her into my arms. I put my back between her and Owen, not caring if he somehow managed to raise a gun in his last attempt at strength and fire it at me. I didn’t care about anything or anyone but Ayda as I turned her over in my arms, pulled her chest and head to me, and I fucking rocked her like she was already dead.
WITHOUT SHAME: Babylon MC Book 4 Page 30