STEEL: Night Rebels Motorcycle Club (Night Rebels MC Romance Book 1)

by Wilder, Chiah

  It was late when Steel got home, and the house was enshrouded in darkness. He went into the kitchen and took out a large bottled water, guzzling it down. The declaration of war weighed heavily on him. He didn’t want to lose any of his brothers; they were his family more than his own brother and sister. A thrill of excitement rode down his spine as he thought of putting an end to the supply of drugs in the county. Their actions would also tell other MCs not to set up shop in Alina. All I have to do is find out who the distributor is and fucking burn his ass.

  He climbed the stairs and stopped in front of Chenoa’s bedroom door, quietly turning the handle and opening it. He heard her deep breathing and went to the side of her bed, staring down at her. She looked peaceful. Not wanting to wake her, he put his hand over her hair but didn’t touch it. “May the Holy People watch over you, sunshine. The universe walks with you and you walk with it,” he said under his breath before he turned away and closed her door.

  When he walked into his room, he saw Breanna snuggled under the covers, a hint of vanilla and apricot wafting in the air. He took off his cut and hung it on the back of a chair, then went over to the bed and sat on the edge of it. He pulled off his boots and stripped out of his jeans and boxers, then slipped under the covers. She stirred and turned around, smiling when her sleepy gaze landed on his. She ran her fingertips up and down his arm. “Hey,” she breathed.

  “Hey.” He slid closer to her, drawing her to him. His dick hardened when he felt her naked skin under his calloused hands. “Everything go okay tonight with Chenoa?” He skimmed his fingers across her face.

  She scooted up so her face was closer to his. “It was fine. We ordered pizza and salad, went online and bought a lot of makeup with your credit card, and watched a movie.”

  He chuckled. “Glad my credit card entertained you.” He kissed her forehead.

  “Are things good at the club? Did you fix whatever problem you had?”

  “Not yet, baby.” He pressed her closer to him. “I gotta go outta town for a little bit.”

  “When?”

  “Early in the morning.”

  “So soon?”

  “Yeah. I want you to take Chenoa over to Mika’s tomorrow. I don’t want her staying alone while I’m gone. I’ll call and talk to Mika about it. I’ll call Chenoa too. I didn’t mean to get home so late. I wanted to talk to her before she went to bed.”

  “She had so much fun spending your money that it wore her out.” She laughed and peppered kisses on his throat. “I’m scared.” Her breath was warm against his skin.

  “I know.”

  “I feel that something big is going down. Am I right?”

  He tilted his head down and glided his lips over hers. “It’s club business, babe. You know that.”

  “Promise me you’ll come home? I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.”

  “I’ll be fine. There’s no way I’m ready to pack it in.” He lightly tickled her back, loving the feel of her goose bumps as they pebbled under his fingertips.

  “I can stay with Chenoa if you’d like. I can come over here until you get back.”

  “I’d love that, babe, but Mika would shit a brick if I let that happen. She’s been pissed enough over Chenoa living with me, and I don’t want her saying a bunch of shit to you or Chenoa. It’s only for a few days.” He let his fingers skim across her rounded ass. “I love you for offering to help.” The truth was that he’d much rather have Breanna with Chenoa than her staying with Mika and Roy, as he didn’t trust either of them to monitor her the way he’d been doing it, but he didn’t have a choice.

  Her palm skated across his hardened dick.

  “Touching me there is gonna bring you some rough fucking, baby,” he joked as he lightly pulled her hair.

  “I’m counting on it,” she said as she threw off the covers and wiggled down so her face was next to his stiffening cock.

  * * *

  They held each other tightly, neither of them sleeping as they listened to one another’s steady breathing. Knowing that she was scared, he covered her face with kisses, then pulled her flush to him and stroked her hair.

  I’m scared too, but not for me. I’m fucking scared for Chenoa. I won’t be around to catch her if she stumbles. He breathed out forcefully.

  “You okay?” Breanna whispered.

  “Just worried about Chenoa.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on her. Mika loves her and wants the best for her. She’ll be okay. You better get some sleep if you’re leaving early in the morning.”

  “Yeah.”

  But sleep evaded him. Breanna’s even breathing made him smile; he was glad she’d fallen asleep despite her worry. He needed all his energy for the mission, so he closed his eyes and soon fell into a fitful sleep.

  A few hours later, his alarm went off. He sat up abruptly, waiting a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He looked over at Breanna and smiled. She’s a good woman. She fits into my world. He carefully rolled out of bed, showered, and came out to dress.

  She was sitting up in bed, her arms hugging her knees. “You going?” she asked in a hushed voice.

  “Yeah.” He looped his belt around his jeans. “Go back to sleep.” He finished dressing and came over to her, running his calloused thumb over her cheek, pain tugging at him when he felt the wetness on her skin. “Don’t cry, baby. It’s gonna be fine. Come on now.” He lowered his head and kissed her lips, the briny taste of them pricking his tongue. “No more tears, okay?” He grabbed a tissue from the box on the nightstand and gently dried her face, and then he went to the closet. Opening a strongbox, he stuffed his pockets with spare bullets, packs of razor blades, and a Glock 9.

  “Call me when you get to wherever you’re going, so I won’t worry as much.” She sniffled and grabbed another tissue, the jagged rip as it left the box filling the air.

  “I’ll call you when I can. Don’t freak out if you don’t hear from me for several days.” He slipped on his leather jacket over his cut.

  “I’ll try not to.” Her voice hitched, and it stabbed his heart.

  He padded over to her again and covered her mouth with his, kissing her deeply before he pulled back and covered her face with feathery kisses. His hand skated down to her stomach and he rubbed it. “I gotta come back if I’m gonna fill your belly with a child. I love you, baby. Be brave for me.”

  “I love you too,” she said against his ear. “Be safe.”

  He nodded, then pulled away and walked out of the room. When he started his Harley, a mix of love, fear, and hope flooded him as he thought of Breanna and Chenoa. I’m not gonna be worth shit if I don’t get rid of the emotions. Emotions and war had no business sharing the same stage. In order to achieve his objective, he had to shut out all thoughts of his little girl and his woman; otherwise, one of his brothers could die. The brotherhood looked to him to lead them, and letting feelings seep in was unacceptable.

  He was a warrior, and he’d lead the Night Rebels to victory.

  He looked up and saw Breanna’s silhouette in the window. She waved at him. He nodded, then switched on the ignition and rode away.

  It’s showtime.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The Night Rebels arrived in Pinewood Springs early that morning, stopping at Ruthie’s Diner for some breakfast before going to the Insurgents’ clubhouse. After Steel put his order in, he slipped out back and called Breanna. She picked up on the first ring.

  “I miss you already,” she said.

  He pictured her twirling her hair around her finger as she usually did when she was on the phone. “I’ve only been gone five hours.” He chuckled. “You warm me good, woman.”

  “I’m just getting ready to take Chenoa to school. You wanna talk to her?”

  “Yeah. Put her on.” Chenoa’s soft voice sang through the phone. “Hey, sunshine. Did Breanna fill you in?”

  “Yup. She said you’re on business and will be home soon. When’s soon, Dad?”

>   “A few days, give or take, so you’re gonna stay with your mom. You good with that?”

  “Yeah. That’s cool.”

  “Remember to stay away from your reservation friends. I know it’s gonna be hard ’cause they’re right there, but you know their influence is bad. It’s just gonna be for a few days.”

  “I know. I’ll stay away.”

  “If anything comes up or you’re feeling stressed or whatever the fuck it is, you call me. Don’t do anything until you call me.”

  “Ya… sure. I gotta finish getting ready or I’ll be late for school.”

  “Okay. Love you, sunshine.”

  “Me too, Dad. Bye.”

  “Are you still there?” Breanna asked, coming back on the line.

  “Yeah. You take care of yourself. I’ll call when I can.”

  “You take care too. Did… uh… did you mean what you said earlier about wanting a baby?”

  “Fuck yeah. I want our baby growing in you.” He frowned. “You don’t want that?”

  “I never thought about it, but I do. I’d love it.” She giggled.

  “Then we’ll work on it when I get back. Love you, babe.”

  “I love you too. I better go, Chenoa’s calling for me. Please come home safe.”

  He stared at the blank screen for a few seconds. When he’d told her he wanted her to have his baby, it had just come out of him. It’d surprised the hell out of him, but he supposed it was the impending war that made him blurt it out. He never thought he’d love another woman after Mika. It’d been so long since his heart had felt love for a woman that it took him by surprise. He’d never thought about having another child, but now that Breanna was in his life, he wanted to share it with her. He wanted them to have a child together.

  He scrubbed his face with his fist, his five o’clock shadow rough against his skin. When I get back, I’m gonna make her my old lady. Heat radiated through his chest; he never thought he’d find a woman worthy to wear his patch. He let the moment wash over him, and then he let it go. He had to. Happiness and love wouldn’t survive the war, only violence and hatred.

  He pressed his lips together and called Mika next. She was thrilled Chenoa would be staying with her for a few days. He gave Mika the rules, and she was miffed but said she’d make sure Chenoa toed the line and didn’t hang with her old friends.

  After breakfast they went to the Insurgents’ clubhouse. Banger greeted them and an hour later, Insurgents and Night Rebels were stuffed into a cramped room listening to Banger, Hawk, and Steel explain how things were going to go down in Iowa. The plan was simple: strike and retreat. Since Hawk had been in the Marines Reconnaissance and had served four tours in Afghanistan, he was instrumental in coming up with the attack plan. He had everything meticulously laid out.

  Since it was an eleven-hour drive to Johnstown, Iowa, they’d leave at seven that night. Banger had some buddies in the neighboring county who’d put them up. The plan was to attack at two o’clock in the morning on the day after they arrived. The Insurgents had already sent three of their brothers—Puck, Johnnie, and Axe—to the Demon Riders clubhouse to scout it out. When the two brotherhoods arrived, they’d meet up with them to find out what they’d learned.

  They would use a surprise attack, with a rush of men, smoke bombs, and machine guns. Grenades would be used as a last resort. Even though the Demon Riders’ clubhouse was out in the boonies, as most outlaw clubs were, they still didn’t want to attract the law. In the dead of night, in a rural community, sounds traveled a long distance.

  “We’ve gotta get in and out quick. We find out from my brothers how many are in the clubhouse right now, how many exits, and if there’re any citizens. We wanna try and eliminate the trash without hurting anyone who hasn’t done us any wrong,” Banger said.

  Hawk stepped away from the table. “That said, this is war. There will be casualties, and some of them may be innocent. It’s just the way it goes, but we’ll try and minimize that consequence.” The members nodded, their faces serious and taut.

  “From the Insurgents’ side we got me, Hawk, Throttle, Bones, Rock, Chas, Jax, Rags, Bear, Wheelie, and Jerry leaving tonight. Like I said, we got three other brothers already there.” Banger wiped his hands on his jeans.

  Steel leaned against the back wall. “We got ten of us, so we should be good with our numbers. Goldie’s our road captain and he and yours, Throttle, will handle the vehicles that have the weapons.” Hawk and Banger nodded.

  “Doc’s gonna ride with us,” said Throttle. “He said he’s got a couple suitcases full of shit to patch us up if we need it.” Laughter rumbled around the room.

  “He can be trusted?” Steel asked.

  “Fuck yeah. He’s been keeping us from dying for ’bout ten years,” Throttle replied.

  “And the twenty-five thousand we’ll put in his fuckin’ hands also helps his loyalty,” Hawk said.

  “And the desire to live,” Crow added. Hawk laughed, nodding.

  “Have a bit of relaxation, but nothing hardcore ’cause we got a lot of shit that’s gonna go down. We leave tonight at seven.”

  Banger banged the gavel on the table and church was over.

  * * *

  Under the chill of the mist that spread over the field, Steel clutched the cold metal of the assault rifle. He commando-crawled toward the Demon Riders inside the clubhouse—the enemy. In front, behind, and on the sides of him, he saw the smudgy forms of his brothers moving toward battle. Frosty puffs of vapor rose from their noses and mouths as they pushed onward.

  Puck, Johnnie, and Axe’s scouting had confirmed that there were fourteen members who resided in the clubhouse, plus four club girls, and that Wednesday early mornings were quiet. As far as they could tell, there were no citizens involved with the day-to-day activities of the club. They didn’t have patrols except for a pack of pit bulls and German shepherds—seven in all. The pivotal element was to keep the dogs from barking.

  From what the three Insurgents observed, it appeared that they weren’t trained guard dogs, just vicious beasts who were kept at the point of starvation. Several MCs kept their dogs hungry in the belief that it made them meaner, so the Insurgents and the Night Rebels figured that the dogs would be entirely susceptible to an offer of food. Once Axe, Puck, and Johnnie fed the dogs, they’d shoot them with dart guns loaded with tranquillizers.

  While the three brothers dealt with the dogs, the group of bikers crawling in the fields moved as one in a sea of black. Each face was grim against the chilly wind, and on every hand was a black glove. The sky was dark and gloomy without a star in sight. The clouds were so thick that only a sliver of the moon shone through.

  When Axe gave the signal to Hawk that the dogs were down, Hawk flicked a lighter several times and the group jumped to their feet, crouching as they approached the dark club. The brothers easily secured the exits. Steel stepped lightly on the porch and slowly picked the lock, then carefully turned the knob and went in, four of his men in tow. He met Hawk, who’d entered from the rear, in the middle of a decent-sized room.

  The clubhouse was an old two-story farmhouse with a basement. Its floorboards squeaked and they had to walk carefully and slowly to mute the sound. Between the two clubs, they outnumbered the Demon Riders by ten. Also, the club had no idea it was being invaded, so Steel figured they partied too much the night before, which would prove beneficial to the Night Rebels in claiming victory after it was all finished.

  He glanced at Hawk. “My men are telling me there’s no one on this floor. They must all be upstairs and downstairs.” Steel motioned for five of his men to go downstairs while Hawk did the same with four of his brothers.

  “Let’s go upstairs,” Hawk said.

  Steel nodded. “Once I give the signal, all hell will break loose.” Hawk tilted his chin and shined his flashlight on the staircase. All of the men had kill-lights—large industrial flashlights—which acted as both a light source and a weapon. They were legal and effective; many a rival mem
ber’s head had been split open with them.

  The plan was that the minute the first shots were heard, the brothers downstairs would open fire. The brothers outside would make sure to eliminate anyone who escaped the massacre in the house.

  Just as Steel was ready to give the word to the men upstairs with him, he heard a loud voice boom from below, “What the fuck is goin’ on?” He spun around and saw a man in his forties coming up the stairs, an assault rifle in his hands. “Get the fuck down here or I’ll shoot,” the man said.

  Steel saw a couple of Demon Riders behind him. Where the fuck did they come from? I thought the first floor had been secured.

  “Drop your fuckin’ weapon. Nice and easy. Kick it down the stairs.” The man took two more steps forward.

  Steel glanced sideways at Hawk, who stood in the shadows. It seemed like the man and his cohorts thought Steel was the only intruder in the clubhouse. “I’m not dropping shit,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “Then your ass is gonna be filled with holes.” He climbed another step. “Who the fuck are you?”

  “Fuck you,” Steel said as his finger tightened on the trigger. Then he heard Brutus’s voice, loud and angry. “Put your fuckin’ guns down or I’m gonna start shooting.”

  He must have come up from the basement. Perfect timing, brother.

  The man pointing the gun at Steel turned around for a split second, and Steel used that opportunity to lunge at him, shoving him down the stairs. Several deep voices emerged from behind the closed doors upstairs. It was only a matter of time before all the Demon Riders would be out of their rooms.