BIKER’S GIFT

by Claire St. Rose

  When I make it back upstairs, Griz throws me a gun as he shouts at me, “Where the fuck have you been, Noah? We need you up here!”

  I don’t bother answering him. He wouldn’t understand. No one except a father could possibly understand my need to put her first. I take the rifle he tossed at me and sling it over my shoulder. For the first time, I can take a moment and see what is going on and get my bearings.

  Outside, men are on their knees, hiding behind bushes and parked cars as they shoot into the home. Our men are at every single window and door, returning each shot as they come. Griz is standing behind the main group as if he is leading his troops into the battle. The rest of the gang is taking up positions outside the back, guarding the rest of the potential entrances and exits.

  That’s when it hits me. I run towards Griz, yelling at him in hushed tones, “The basement. They’re gonna try to get in through the basement. If they know anything about this house, they know we’ll be too busy watching the front and the back to think about that side entrance.”

  Griz looks around, weighing his options. There’s not another person to send. Everyone has their place and role to play in this war. But I’m left alone. “Let me go, Griz. My daughter’s down there, and I’m not about to let any man get within a hundred feet of her.”

  He nods in agreement, and I run off. I grab Trigger, who is helping one of the younger guys load up rifles, by his sleeve and pull him with me. As we walk through the alcove towards one of the unguarded bathrooms, he asks me, “What the hell are you doing, Noah? Griz said everyone to positions!”

  “Griz didn’t think about the storm entrance to the basement. And if Zane Oaks and the Rock are smart, they know about it and are going to try to use it.”

  “How the fuck are we gonna get out there, huh? That’s a suicide mission.” His eyes are darting frantically side to side as he realizes that I’m taking him away from his cushy, safe position backing up the rest of the men.

  “Opal’s down there, Trigger. Someone needs to guard them, at least.”

  He hesitates, looking down at the ground. A sudden hail of gunfire sends us ducking towards the ground. From the thin walls and the shared vents, we can hear the girls sobbing downstairs. When we stand back up, Trigger looks at me and nods. He’s with me for Opal. I knew I could count on him to care enough about her.

  I point towards the small, tinted glass window by the tub. Trigger catches my drift immediately as he steps into the porcelain tub and lifts himself up on its side. The window flies open as he pries at it and a rush of cold air pours into the small bathroom. We both duck in anticipation, waiting for the sound of gunfire or men, but there’s nothing. All the noise is coming from the other sides of the home.

  Trigger moves to the side as I step in next to him. I’m just tall enough to be able to peak my head out the window slightly. From my vantage point, I see nothing but the neighbor’s lights flickering on. I grab a red towel from the holder and stick it on to the end of a loofa and wave it outside. Still, nothing.

  It’s time. I take a deep breath before tossing my gun out first and then quickly shimmy out the open window and down the side of the house. My feet land softly on the brown grass and I slink towards the side of the walls. Trigger follows me shortly after, landing harder on his hands and knees as he wobbles to collect himself and his handgun.

  The two of us lower ourselves and race off towards the shadows of the clubhouse. As we get nearer to the entrance door, the sound of voices and shouts become clearer. We’re only feet from Bonebreakers, but no one has recognized us yet or taken a shot. I hear an unknown man command his men, “Get the door! Get the door!”

  Shit! My mind goes blank. They are two steps ahead of us. As I predicted, they most likely cased the place in advance and know just where we would have weak spots. And stupid me fell for that trap and left my daughter defenseless.

  I don’t have time to think or to be pissed. I watch as the shadows light up in red and yellow as a man lights a towel inside of a molotov cocktail. He holds it above his head as he yells out, “This is for Brandon!” He looks towards the storm door entrance to the basement as another man is ready to open it on his go.

  I can’t stop myself. I’m screaming, shouting wildly into the night. I lift my gun to my eye and shoot. Trigger pulls me down as soon as my trigger is pulled. There’s the familiar sound of a whoosh as I see the black, brown and reds mix with a burst of sparks and heat. A fireball about the size of a car ignites mere feet from my face as the cocktail explodes on the ground outside the storm door.

  The thrower is on the ground as his friends care to him. And then, the bullets. They are exploding over our head towards the bushes, but none of them land near us. All of them are being aimed at a totally unexpected sight. We watch as our Disciple club members run fast towards the attacking Bonebreakers. Their bodies duck behind trees and old junky cars in the backyard as they aim at the small band still fighting to get into that basement door.

  Trigger and I make a break for it, barreling out of the bush and into the yard next door. We take position from the side of the wooden garage. Trigger fires towards the men, not even aiming anymore. He then turns to me, looking at me urgently. He shouts over me, “Noah! We got to get the fuck out of here!”

  “No! We can’t leave until we know they’re not getting into that basement. Fucking load up the guns and let’s go!” He hands me one of his handguns in his pocket and I take over the shooting. I can’t see anything in the dark, can’t make out any figures. I just listen and wait, my eyes focused on the opening to the house. No one is getting in there on my watch. No one.

  “Shit! Noah!” Trigger grabs my arms as large beams of white lights fill the darkness. A small car pulls into the driveway, illuminating our hiding point. The car turns off and we watch motionless as someone gets out to the car.

  “Noah? Noah?” The voice is urgent, concerned, terrified. I drop my gun to my side and walk towards it, my hand covering my eyes from the lights.

  “Faye?” Her curvy, feminine figure makes an eerie silhouette.

  She doesn’t have time to respond before the next round of bullets aim directly at us.

  Chapter 19 FAYE

  “Faye…Faye?”

  I struggle to wake up. I had fallen asleep in my bed early, transfixed in my dreams about fire. Sherri stirring me, shaking me awake startles me to life. I turn to her groggily, wiping my eyes as I ask, “What is it? Why are you waking me up?”

  “It’s your phone. It keeps ringing.” She hands it to me as I struggle to focus on the numbers as the phone plays its annoying little jingle over and over again. “I would turn it off, but I don’t know your passcode to get in. And I figure if someone is calling you over and over again, you’d want to know about it.”

  “Yeah, I would.” My mind is trying to think about all the people I know that would call me like this. My parents are safely tucked away in Florida in good health and in good sunshine. The most they call me these days is to brag about the weather down there and to make sure I have been calling my aunt, Daisy, on the weekends. The number doesn’t belong to them though, or anyone I know. It’s a random mix of numbers from this area code.

  “Who is it? Maybe the school? Do you think something happened -- like it burned down?” Sherri isn’t going to leave until she has answers. She’s in this with me now.

  “No. I don’t think so. If it were the school, I would have gotten a call from the phone tree. Plus, if it was a fire, I don’t think we wo--” I stop myself mid-sentence as I realize who it could be. I press the green answer button instantly as I whisper frantically into the phone, “Opal? Opal? Is this you?”

  “Miss Harvey! Miss Harvey!” Her voice is frail and desperate. I can make out the sounds of women wailing and shouting in the background. There are some loud thuds that make the phone shake. “Miss Harvey!”

  “Opal, it’s me. Tell me what’s going on.” I grab the phone to my ear as I run to my dresser. I throw on a pair of je
ans and slip into a tank top.

  “It’s the Bonebreakers. They’re back! They’re back! And they’re going to kill my dad!” She’s practically sobbing. It’s a complete contrast to the girl I saw during the last attack that was cool and calm, hiding in her own bedroom. Something about this must be different.

  “Where’s your dad, Opal? Why isn’t he with you? Are you in your room hiding like he told you last time?” Sherri is following me throughout the house as I am searching desperately for my keys.

  “He’s…I don’t know. I don’t know! He came and got me and the other girls and brought us downstairs into the basement. We keep hearing guns and explosions and stuff. I don’t know what is going on or where he is!” She pauses, holding back another long sniffle, “I’m scared, Miss Harvey. I’m really scared. What if they killed him?”

  I’m already out the door, Sherri still trailing behind me. She’s putting on a pair of rain boots over her pajama pants and tying her hair back into a ponytail. But I’m focused on the little girl breaking down over the phone, “Opal, don’t you move. Don’t go anywhere. Your dad put you down in the basement to protect you, and I’m sure he’s doing just that. But I’m going to come and get you okay. You stay close to this phone and wait for me to call you.” She doesn’t answer, but I can hear her cry. I say it slowly, calmly, “Please Opal, tell me you understand my instructions.”

  “I…I understand.”

  “Good. Because I’m on my way.”

  I turn the phone off and look towards Sherri buckling her seatbelt. I put the phone on mute as I yell back at her, “Sherri! You can’t do this. You can’t come with me.”

  “Faye, I’m not letting you go there alone and die trying to play hero. You have no idea what you are getting yourself into.”

  “I know exactly what I am getting myself into. I have to go help. I have to save Opal and Noah.”

  Sherri stares at me, her blue eyes lazering in on me as I start the engine. She unbuckles and slides out the side passenger door. As I put my hands to the wheels, she leans in over the open window and says, “Faye, be safe out there. Take care of yourself first, okay?”

  I give her a small nod before pressing my foot to the pedal and speeding out of my own driveway and gated subdivision. I drive down the backstreets through stop signs and red lights. I’m breaking almost every rule of the road as I focus on one thing only: getting that little girl out of there before she or her father gets killed.

  About a block away from the clubhouse, I hear the bullets. I instantly slow, realizing this isn’t going to be as easy as I think. A man dressed in leather and boots runs past my car, clutching his side. My stomach churns as I consider calling the cops or even stopping to give him help. But I know better. He could be on the wrong side, or what I think is the wrong side at least.

  As I get closer to the house, I start to see the carnage come to life. Men everywhere are running this way and that. And the lights to the adjacent homes are all turned off as if they are all in hiding, waiting out the storm. I know I can’t go any farther, at least in my car. No way can I drive through this mess without becoming a victim myself.

  I make a quick decision to turn into the narrow and unlit alleyway behind the homes in hope of figuring out a better way in. I get about three homes before I am able to see clearly into the clubhouse’s backyard. Even in the darkness, I can see men crouched down behind those beat up cars they use for shooting practice and unkempt bushes and trees. On the other side is another group, the Bonebreakers.

  They are grouping up and circling around a figure in the center near a storm door I haven’t noticed before. A storm door I think leads directly to the basement. I look down on my phone in a panic. Should I warn Opal? Should I try to stop this now? I’m frozen in place, my nerves overtaking me.

  Then, there’s a flash of light, a few pops of a gun, and then a burst of flames. I gasp in horror as I try to figure it all out. A body lies in the grass, not moving as more men from the Disciple’s side moves in. I know staying here isn’t a possibility. I pick up my phone and press the number that called me earlier.

  I weave out of the alley and back into the street. A man spots me and points a gun towards my windshield. I drop the phone immediately, losing it between the leather seats of my car. I scream in a panic as I make my decision. I barrel my car into him as fast as I can, my car tires squealing and spinning as I rev up. This is my only defense. I have to do it.

  His body hits with a loud bang, causing me to push hard on my breaks. I watch as he rolls over the hood of my car and falls to the side of my driver’s side wheel. I don’t stop to see if he is still alive or if I managed to kill him. I can’t risk him being able to pull that gun back out at me.

  I just keep going and going. I’m practically making circles around the block, but I am dead focused on getting that girl out of there before something happens to her. Finally, I see a garage just outside of the clubhouse. It’s the only place I can get out of plain view and the line of fire.

  My lights illuminate the driveway, the cement, and four black boots…I panic as I try to decide if I need to kill these guys, as well. One is aiming his gun at me, but the other isn’t. The other is someone familiar, someone I came to save. I don’t think. I don’t stop. I put the car in park and run out.

  Noah spots me first, calling my name in the darkness, his hand to his head to make out my figure better. But before I can answer, there’s more gunfire. The top of the garage is hit and then a light near the other man’s head. Noah screams out as he runs towards me, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  “I’m here to save you and your daughter! Opal called me! Where is she?” I grab onto his arms, both of us ducking behind the car. The other man fires back towards where the bullets are coming from.

  “She’s safe. She’s inside. The Disciples are holding the Bonebreakers off.” Another round of pops land in my windshield. He looks at me and places a hand to my face as if he can’t believe that I am real. “Faye,” he says urgently, “I have to get you out of here. Now!”

  “What about Opal, Noah? We can’t leave her!” I want to slap him, to make him see I don’t need protecting. It’s her we need to be worried about.

  The man next to Noah turns around and gestures wildly, “I’ve got Opal and the rest of the girls. Go! Get the teacher out of here!”

  Noah doesn’t need to think about it. He grabs my hand and opens the passenger side of the car, throwing me in and buckling my seatbelt for me. He runs to the other side and gets behind the driver’s seat. I throw the keys at him, and he starts it up instantly. The car purrs as he pulls out of the driveway and back into the alley from which I came.

  I turn over my shoulder to see three men in our rearview mirror. They’re shouting something at us as they wave their guns over their head. A man fires, the glass of my back window flying, mixing on the floor of my car with the glass from the windshield. I scream uncontrollably as Noah pushes the car faster.

  We manage to make it out of the neighborhood and back on a main street. Both of us are panting as we pull up to our first stop light. Noah turns left into an empty parking lot, turning off his car as both of us let out small, hurried gasps. It’s the first time either of us has had a moment to catch our breaths, to understand what just happened to both of us.

  He turns to me, checking me. He places a hand to my face and I press my cheek into the warm, soothing palm. His fingers pull at something and I instantly recoil. When he pulls away, his hand is bloody and he holds a piece of glass for me to see.

  I reach to my backseat and pull out an old sweatshirt. He places it to my head, holding it tight to the wound. He looks at me and gently says, “You’re going to be all right, Faye. You’re going to be okay.”

  I wrap my fingers around his wrist and lean my head’s weight into his hand. I believe him. I believe every word of it. As much as I don’t want to, I know he is real. He is my real savior, my protector. I need him just as much as I know he needs me.


  I look up at him, my eyes catching his glittering in the mixture of the moon and the streetlight. I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out. I am lost, so lost. He lowers the sweatshirt and places his hand to my mouth. I kiss his fingertips, his palm, his wrist tenderly. My lips make a trail down to his wrist and up his arm until I have reached over the driver’s seat towards him.

  He pulls the seat back and allows me to curl up in his arms, snuggling his chest. His arms wrap around me as our lips meet. It’s soft and sweet -- words I never thought I’d describe a moment with Noah Cruz as. But with each kiss, it become urgent, a plea. The thought of our lives both being taken away like that comes flooding back to us as we go deeper, him finding my tongue and sucking on it hard. I return the favor by taking in his bottom lip, biting down on it hard.

  Noah’s hand slips under my tank top, finding the bare skin. His dull fingertips dig into me as he moves upwards towards my neck, guiding my kisses. The other hand lifts the shirt over my head. I’m braless, exposed, but I don’t mind. All I can think of is his hands on my chest and his cock inside of me.