by Lana Grayson
Lyn defended Sorceress, but she had to cut her losses and bolt. I couldn’t keep her safe while zip ties bound my hands. Her attitude would incite the wrong people. Thorne was rabid enough. That dog didn’t need another chew toy, but Lyn kept squeaking and pulling his tail. He’d snap. She’d get hurt.
Then we’d have another grievance to settle.
Man to man.
The club emptied the instant we pulled in the lot. Lyn barged through the rear to clear her girls of the inevitable slaughter.
I survived the ride just to take my place at the gallows. Keep pushed me out of the truck and into the gravel. Thorne’s boot connected with my ribs. I heard a crack. I gasped a profanity as he forced me to my feet.
That son of a bitch got off on revenge. Always did. It was one of the reasons I left. When a man ruled in blood, he didn’t leave a lot of room for compromise.
They crashed me into a chair inside. Gold held the gun to my head, and Scotch tied me with rope, grumbling about being too old for fights like this. He didn’t have to bend arthritic fingers to bind me. I wasn’t going anywhere without Lyn, and she hadn’t moved from her stages.
Her attention focused on the complication I hadn’t expected. Rose wasn’t supposed to be here. She didn’t look eager to leave. Thorne flipped shit as soon as he saw her. She didn’t let him speak.
“You need a mediator.” Rose was a spec of curly chestnut hair next to Thorne. “No one will listen to each other. Someone has to keep the peace.”
“There is no peace here, Rose.” Thorne pointed at me. “Not with him. Not with The Coup.”
“And what about Temple?” she asked.
“You planning on calling them too? Sitting them down?”
Rose was a feisty little thing when she knew no one would hit her. “I want you to stay alive. I need you to stay alive. Next time I’m chased by four men, you or Luke might not be around. Next time, it might just be me.” Her voice softened. “I don’t want it to be just me.”
Thorne’s only weakness was the woman he’d decided to make his own. She looked at him with a blend of absolute adoration and the same Darnell edge that got Brew killed. Thorne shook his head.
“Nothing’s gonna happen to me,” he said. “Or you.”
“Then make it official. This is an opportunity to talk to The Coup. Someone has to point the guns out of the Valley and at the real threat.”
He pointed to me. “He is a threat.”
“The only reason I’m alive is because of him. He saved me from Priest. And he knew kidnapping me would give him a reason to talk to you without alerting The Coup to his plan.”
Gold grinned, rubbing a hand over his buzzed hair. “Betraying your own men now?”
Goddamned Rose. I shrugged. “Gotta keep it interesting. I like to stay on my toes.”
Rose crossed her arms. “We can’t defend ourselves if Temple’s looking for Blade’s murderer.”
Her words hung. Keep and Thorne shared a glance.
Subtle. Like I didn’t know the bastards had the information I wanted.
Rose continued. “We can’t stay safe if we’re ducking The Coup. Sit with them. If I mediate—”
“The Coup will kill you too,” I said. “They don’t give a damn about you. Only who your daddy was.”
Rose quieted, but she was right. We needed a mediator. The only one who might have helped was the last person who wanted to get involved.
Lyn prowled behind the bar, stalking each one of the men who disrupted her life, business, and major career goals.
“You want them to listen?” I asked. “Have Lyn do the talking. Neutral ground, neutral target.”
“Just kill him.” Lyn baited Thorne. “I’m not doing it.”
She peeled her sweatshirt off, revealing a corset so tight it threatened to set a three alarm fire from the cigarette dropping off Scotch’s lips. He ground it out before the embers caught, but he wasn’t changing any hearts by messing with her pristine carpets. Gold elbowed Ace and Tanner, getting a good look at the woman who’d crush their cocks if they got too close.
“Lyn, you’re neutral,” I said.
“Since when?” She poured a drink but slapped Gold’s hand away as he reached for the bottle. Apparently the guys were paying tonight. “Neutral would be staying out of the fights, not hosting the O-K-Fucking-Corral. First Exorcist. Then Blade.”
Her grimace punctuated with a profanity. She fucking misspoke.
Like it was any big secret she was involved with his death. Just my luck the one woman who might have saved my life was the one who’d end it. She’d choose an alliance with Anathema over the neutrality she demanded.
She’d choose that secret over me.
Lyn took another drink. “Whatever. Use my club. Burn it to the ground if you want. Just don’t implicate me in any of this. I will not be an accessory to your crimes.”
It wasn’t just Anathema she warned. That speech was directed at me too. But I didn’t have a choice. We needed someone with a cool head, and my men spoke only in blood. I asked only for time—so I could get her to safety. So I could keep her out of the line of fire. Protect her.
Have her.
Lyn never admitted to being frightened, but she could only pretend to be so brave. Frustration didn’t gnaw her bottom lip, and reluctance didn’t tap her nails against the bar in an unsteady rhythm.
The decision didn’t look easy, but she shrugged it off with a quick shimmy. “Fine, but if I get shot—”
“Then we’re all getting shot,” Thorne said. “Better put that mouth to good use.”
Lyn obliged him with a smile, revealing fangs. “I’ve never had any complaints.”
Thorne slapped my shoulder. “Then, if you two survive, Luke’s cock is in for a treat.”
Now everyone was pissed. Not the best way to start a negotiation. Especially since I knew my men weren’t here to make peace.
Priest led the charge into Sorceress, extending his hands as Gold and Keep patted him down. Lash and Bounty followed. No guns, but that wasn’t a challenge. Grim and Vega nodded at me. Faced their former brothers with a solemn glance.
Priest eyed the women. He grinned, pointing a crooked finger at Rose.
“There you are, you slippery little bitch.” Priest laughed. “Someone got you first.”
Fuck. I hardened my voice. “Quiet. We got a problem. We’re here to fix it.”
Priest took a seat, but his gaze surveyed the table as though he were an equal with me and Thorne. That wasn’t a good sign. I recognized his intentions. Smelled it on him like the stench of blood and sex. He wanted power.
And he was making a play for it.
“We ain’t fixin’ anything,” Priest said. “We’re sorting shit out. Airing grievances. Real gentleman-like.”
Lyn didn’t buy it either. She refused to sit at the table—wouldn’t debase herself by coming to our level. But she saw enough from her high horse that Her Majesty thought she could pass judgment and not face retaliation. I didn’t expect her to be gentle, but I hoped she’d have some common sense.
“Temple’s coming,” she said. The men looked at her tits when she spoke, but that didn’t make her words any less true. “You know time’s up.”
“Let ‘em come,” Priest said. “Will fight them like men.”
“And die like dogs.”
Thorne never let others speak for him, but even he acknowledged Lyn was right. “Knight says were outmatched. Says it’s a bad idea for Anathema and The Coup to keep fighting while Temple rides our streets, looking for people to fuck up.”
“That’s because we are outmatched,” I said. The binding tightened over my arms. Absolute conviction was a bitch—I didn’t have the luxury of squirming around the truth. “Even at our best, even when we were unified, we’d still be slaughtered. Temple isn’t a brotherhood. They’re a cartel. Ruthless. To them, life is about money and blood, and they get it every time.”
Keep lit a cigarette. “Then what’s the point? B
reak out the champagne. Bring on the girls. If we’re fucked anyway, we might as well have some gash go down before we go down.”
Rose knew better than to chastise her brother publically, but she approached despite Thorne’s warnings. “That’s your plan? Just roll over?”
Priest grinned. “We could start now. There’s two girls here. Let’s bend them over before Temple sells their cunts to the highest bidder.”
I spoke to prevent Thorne and Keep from ending the discussion with a murder. “Or we can be smart. We know every secret alley and street in the Valley because we’ve been killing each other on them. If we agree to a truce, if only to let our men stay mobile around the edge of the Valley, we might have a chance to head off any attack before it begins.”
Priest laughed. “A fucking truce? That’s your plan? That’s why you’re strapped to a chair, and we tossed our guns down in the dirt outside?”
“Beats killing each other before they get here.”
“Nah. That ain’t true. We haven’t had a death around here for a while, but that wasn’t respect. That was by the grace of God.” Priest held his hands skyward. “Where the hell was the talk of a truce a month ago? When Gold here tried to murder me because I was fucking his ex-girlfriend? We stood in this room and nearly declared world-war-fucking-three over a goddamned whore.”
Gold was a laid-back guy, but he got serious about two things—his family and the club. Priest might have fucked his whore of an ex-girlfriend, but their fight wasn’t about the gash. It was about the baby she popped out. At least he property patched a new girl now. Annie settled his ass down.
“You’re lucky to be alive.” Gold didn’t blink. “Don’t give me a reason to kill you.”
Priest shrugged. “See? Dogs and cats. Oil and water. Fundamental differences.”
Lyn crossed her arms. “Sounds like the only problem here is you, Priest. It’s a good fucking thing you aren’t in charge of The Coup.” Her smile only pissed him off. “Knight says he has a plan, and I’d much rather defend the Valley instead of…what was it? Having my cunt sold to the highest bidder?”
“Bet you would. A cheap slut like you masquerading as a fancy businesswoman? You wouldn’t survive a minute with Temple.” Priest looked past her, targeting Rose instead. “But I bet Bud would do nicely. Daddy trained her to be a subservient little slut.”
Thorne stood, but Keep lunged across the table and aimed for Priest.
I knew Keep wasn’t stable, not with the drugs surging through his veins. His punch cracked Priest against the jaw. He got in another shot before slamming Priest into the table.
We were fucked.
“You really want to piss me off?” Keep tightened his grip around Priest’s throat. “I should gouge your eyes out just for looking at her.”
Rose shouted. Keep ignored her. Lyn ducked away, smartest thing she did all day.
“You Darnells started this bullshit.” Priest spat on Keep. “First Blade working outside the Valley and making deals with Temple. Then he fucking dies and points the finger at our prez. No one fucking cares who killed the son of a bitch. I want to know who’s gonna answer for his crimes. It’s gonna be either you or your sister, and I’d much rather fuck her.”
Keep yelled, the veins in his forehead pulsing. Gold tried to haul him off. He nearly went down with Priest.
“Ain’t nobody coming near Rose! She lived through enough goddamned abuse!”
Lyn panicked. “Keep, stop it!”
Only blood would soothe Keep. His voice rasped, slurred, and edged for vengeance.
“My father left his fucking jail cell and went to find her first, probably to rape her again. To make sure she never revealed what he did. You think I care if Blade is dead?” Keep grunted. “Fuck. No. I should have killed him myself, but I’m not half of the man of the one who did.”
Son of a bitch. Keep spun out of control. I struggled against the rope binding my hands. Did nothing to free me.
His words echoed off the stage. “But I didn’t get to kill my father for what he did to her. Now the only fucking reason I can sleep at night is knowing that Rose doesn’t have to call Blade Dad anymore.”
Rose’s plea for him to quiet came too late. Thorne hauled Keep off the Priest, but he heard the same thing I did.
And everything clicked in that one fucking second.
“She doesn’t call Blade daddy?” Priest seized the truth with a roaring laugh. “What secrets are we keeping in Anathema?”
It wasn’t just my men who sat still, shocked. All of Anathema—Gold, Scotch, Ace, Tanner, Reaper—all of Thorne’s loyal men stared at Rose.
A woman who looked less and less like Blade Darnell.
But an awful lot like Brew.
I doubted many of Thorne’s men knew about the sexual abuse. Exorcist made it his business, traded pictures with Blade that he had of Rose as a kid. I didn’t know the true extent of his crimes, but it made sense he would have raped the girl.
Made even more sense that Thorne wouldn’t have celebrated the rapist’s release from prison. Blade was supposed to be welcomed back as a hero, but that ended before the party started. Thorne didn’t pull the trigger, couldn’t risk it, couldn’t kill his own VP without disintegrating the club.
But someone else could kill the bastard.
Someone who wasn’t in the room.
Someone who should have been playing dead.
Priest fought off his attackers. He straightened his cut, strutting to his seat with the aid of his new information. He glanced at our men.
“So…you guys want a truce?” he asked. “You want us to band together to protect our clubs from Temple. You want us to put down our weapons and let our prez take the blame for Blade’s murder while the real killer hunkers down in Anathema to settle some family score.”
Lyn pulled Rose from the table. Both clubs stood, and the silence cracked through whatever truce, whatever peace we derived through mutual respect. It was gone. Crushed.
And all that remained were the heartbeats of those who had yet to suffer for the real and imagined crimes, insults, and vengeance.
“I have another plan.” Priest extended his hands. “I take Lyn and Rose. Use them as a peace offering to Temple. Then I tell them that Blade was killed by his own men because he fucked his little girl a bit too hard.”
Thorne removed the gun hidden under the table. He pointed it at Priest. “How about I kill you now? End this fucking bullshit?”
Priest didn’t answer.
He attacked.
Every goddamned time.
The first bullet ricocheted off my bar. It pierced through three full bottles of vodka and punctured my mirror.
Lash and Bounty leapt over the table. Thorne’s shot fired high and caught one of my lights. The equipment fell from the ceiling and shattered, scattering shards of the bulb across the stage. The other lights shorted-out, flickering as chaos erupted and my club became the trenches for another war.
Rose screamed as Bounty launched at Thorne. He ducked, and his own punch hit hard. Bounty’s nose crunched, and blood spurted over the table, the men, and my carpets. Keep seized his chair. He crushed it over Vega’s head. The pieces scattered. Grim dove at him. Gold met him with a punch to the gut.
Another shot.
More blood.
Total anarchy.
“Get down!” Thorne shouted at Rose. “Go to Lyn!”
I couldn’t babysit Rose and defend my club at the same time. I kicked off my heels and ducked to the floor, my raging pulse deafening me to the carnage on my floors. The bar protected me from a thrown glass. I covered my head as the bottles crashed.
This was insane. I had to stop it.
I crawled along the floorboards, punching at the false door installed under the register. The shotgun inside was the only illegal item in my club.
Except the biker war.
Except the men bound to die.
Except the drugs in their veins and blood money in their wallets.
I grabbed the weapon, popping up behind the bar. I aimed the gun over the counter and shouted.
“I swear to God, if you assholes don’t get the hell out—”
I wasn’t ready for the punch to my temple. Lash struck me. Hard. I blacked out as the gun was ripped from my hands but woke as I struck the ground.
Lash aimed at Thorne.
That walking, talking asshole was good for nothing when he was part of Anathema. I blinked through the pain and reached for anything under the bar. I didn’t have any bottles of alcohol, but I found a fire extinguisher.
It’d do the trick.
The barrel sliced through the air, but my injury dizzied me. I aimed for Lash’s skull. The thick whack slammed into his back instead. He grunted and fell to his knee. The gun didn’t fire, but he took aim again.
I wouldn’t give him a target.
I pulled the pin on the extinguisher and jammed the nozzle at Lash. The icy cloud plumed over the fight, and the men shouted in enraged panic. It gave us time, but hell if I knew what to do with it.
I seized my bartender’s flimsy fruit knife and sprayed more of the suppressant. The fog hid my path as I raced to the bastard who was lucky I cared too much about him to leave him bound to a chair.
“Lyn, get the fuck out of here!” Luke’s chair fell on its side. I gripped his arms, groping down, down, down, until my fingers grazed the rope. He managed to loosen it but couldn’t free his hands. The knife sliced through the first rope. “I got it! Fucking go!”
It was a good idea. I should have run.
Instead, I rubbed the sweat from my eyes and cut through the rest of the rope. He shoved me away. I gave him cover with the last bit of the propellant in the extinguisher.
Luke didn’t follow, just yelled for me to get clear.
My heart froze in the cloud of ice. It shattered as a gunshot echoed over the club. A man groaned, crashing against tables and shuffling to the floor.
I didn’t see who got hit. Rose’s scream pierced the fray, but at least I could find her. I raced to her side and shoved her to the ground as another bullet tore a path through my club. She resisted, fighting to return to the maw of hell.