Conquering (Vipers Creed MC#2)

by Ryan Michele

I darted down the hallway to see her piece of shit father with a fork stuck in his eye and two bullet holes in his brain. While I knew Chelsea had no love lost there, she wouldn’t put the bullets in him. The fork was up for debate.

  “Who put the bullets in him?” I asked, stepping out of the trashed room and back down to the living room.

  “My first guess is Gonzo. Called him, and he didn’t answer.”

  “Gonzo has her.” My gut clenched as the anger bubbled. “Fuck!” I roared, not having any control. I picked up a lamp and threw it against the wall. It shattered into a million pieces and sadly looked more in place that way. “I knew his ass couldn’t be trusted!”

  Once I calmed down enough, I asked, “Boner?”

  “He’s at the clubhouse, getting stitched up. He lost a bit of blood, so Needles is takin’ care of that, too. He should be fine. Will know more in a bit,” Spook answered.

  I rubbed my hands over my head. How the fuck had this gotten so fucked up? And how the fuck was I going to find my woman?

  TWO HOURS. FUCKING longest two hours of my life and still going. We had ridden to the house where we’d met Javier—nothing. The warehouse we had scoped out for him—nothing. Abso-fucking-lutely nothing.

  I charged into Spook’s office, not giving the first fuck about knocking.

  His eyes shot up to mine.

  “Anything?” I asked.

  “Called everyone I can think of. They’re combing shit. Hoping something comes soon.”

  “Fuck!” I roared, turning toward the wall and punching three times consecutively. My hand went through the wood paneling and hit the cement blocks the place was built out of. It hurt, but nothing hurt worse than wondering what was happening to my woman.

  “Brother,” Spook spoke calmly, and I wanted to punch him for being so damn at ease.

  “Do not brother me,” I snapped. “If it were your woman—”

  “It was my woman, Stiff. You should remember. Mine was taken by my father, cut up, and that shit sticks with me every day. Don’t. Do not tell me if it were my woman, because I fucking know!” he bellowed.

  Spook was right. He knew exactly what this felt like, and I hated that for both of us.

  “Fuck. What do I do? I can’t just sit here.”

  “Brother—”

  Spook’s phone rang. He held up one finger as he took the call.

  “Yeah,” he answered, his eyes growing wide. Then he scrambled for a piece of paper and pen. He scrolled something down then looked at the phone, muttering, “Fucker.”

  “What?” I asked with impatience.

  “Colonel.”

  My body stilled at the man’s name. The Colonel was Trixie’s father. He was also the asshole who’d taken over the business Spook’s father was in of buying and selling women to men overseas. The asshole had also threatened Trixie. He was not a well-liked man, and he was pretty freaky.

  Spook held up the paper. “Location for Chelsea. Let’s roll. Take the van so we’re quiet.”

  I walked over and snatched the paper out of his hand, looking at his chicken scratch to find an address about fifteen minutes away.

  “Let’s go!” I ordered.

  I’d thought two hours were long. They were nothing on the fifteen minutes it took to get to a ranch-style house on a cul-de-sac in one of the more affluent neighborhoods outside of Dyersburg.

  Every house was cookie cutter with lawns immaculately put together. The house we were going to looked like the fucking Cleaver’s lived there.

  “What the fuck?” Bosco questioned from the passenger seat.

  “Yeah,” I answered, grabbing my gun and cocking it.

  I turned behind me to look at Xander. I’d kept him out of the dirty parts of this job, but with it being my woman, I needed him.

  “You ready for this?”

  He pulled his gun out and checked it. “Fuck yeah. Let’s go get Chelsea.”

  It was still light, though barely, and we couldn’t exactly walk down the road with guns showing. As an alternative, Dawg pulled us right into the driveway, and as soon as we stopped, we piled out. Half of us went to the back, the other to the front door, hiding our weapons as best as possible. I didn’t give a shit at this point.

  Surprisingly, the front door opened at a simple knock, and a large man wearing a suit answered.

  With my hand on my gun, I kept it under my cut.

  “Gonzo’s been waiting for you,” he said calmly, and I wanted to blow the fucker’s head off, but I needed to play this smart. “I know you’re packin’, so wait here.”

  The man shut the door, and we stood there, looking at each other. What the fuck?

  Not a minute later, the door opened, and none other than Gonzo himself stood in the doorway. His suit was pressed and clean, and his face wore a wide smile that I wanted to rip off.

  “Where is she?” I asked.

  “I’m surprised you found me.” He looked at Spook. “You have better connections than I thought.” It was an insult, but I didn’t have time for this shit. “Remember, if you shoot me”—he looked at me— “you don’t get your girl, and all these nice people in the neighborhood see the bad biker gang killing an innocent, unarmed man.”

  My hand clenched on the gun, itching to shoot.

  “This is what I want: your mother. Even trade. Then this is over.” He brushed his hands together like he was dusting them off.

  “Why’d you take Chelsea for this?”

  He smiled. “She happened to be in the right place at the wrong time. Two birds, one stone.”

  “Is she hurt?”

  He tsked. “If you want your woman, bring me your mother. I know you have her hidden. You have an hour and a half. Then I start pulling teeth or nails, whichever I feel at the moment.” He stepped back and slammed the door shut.

  I stepped forward, and Spook grabbed my shoulder.

  Fuck, I didn’t want to do this to Xander, but I had no fucking choice. I didn’t know if Chelsea was even in the fucking house.

  “What the fuck?” Hooch asked as he and the guys who’d gone around back came up.

  “Any views from the windows?”

  He shook his head. “Locked up tight. Was waiting to hear something.”

  Fucking hell.

  I looked at Xander and opened my mouth to speak, but he cut me off.

  “Do it, Stiff. Get her, bring her here, and do the trade.”

  He’d given me my out, but I saw the pained look in his eye, and I fucking hated that.

  “Need someone to go get my mother and bring her here. I’m not fuckin’ leavin’,” I announced.

  I heard Spook giving orders as I stared at the house, and I continued to stare as the van drifted away.

  Xander and Spook came to stand by me, and still I stared at the house, waiting for the van to finally pull back up.

  THE ROOM WAS pitch black and smelled clean. The carpet felt soft under my tied up body, my arms behind my back. Whatever held them bit into my skin. My thigh throbbed, and I hoped the belt had stopped the bleeding, but I could barely move it.

  I couldn’t remember how I’d gotten here or who brought me. I couldn’t even register the length of time I’d been here; except, I had dried blood on me.

  A soft click sounded in the distance, and I turned toward it. The window to wherever I was lifted, and a huge bulk of a man climbed through.

  I scrambled back, afraid to scream and unable to really move.

  He stepped closer, and I willed my body to move.

  “Takin’ ya to Vipers,” were the only words the man spoke as he reached down, lifted me as if I weighed nothing, and maneuvered me out of the window then himself. He cut my restraints, freeing my hands, and I rubbed my wrists as they felt the burn.

  I tried to get up, to run and get away from this man, but he picked me back up and began to jog away from the house.

  WHEN MY CELL started ringing in my cut, I pulled it out and saw it said “T Calling.” Instead of taking the call, I slid the bar
to ignore it. Not two seconds later, it rang again with the same display. I again hit ignore and switched the ringer to vibrate.

  I stood outside, looking so fucking out of place with my brother and Spook. Neither Gonzo nor his brutes came out, opened the door, or said “boo.” Other people went in and out of their houses, giving us the eye. I fucking hated it, but there was no way I was leaving my woman. No fucking way.

  My phone vibrated in my pocked just as the sound of crunching gravel came in the distance. I turned to see the van we’d driven earlier. I looked at my phone, and it said again, “T Calling” again.

  Stupid fucker wouldn’t quit. Therefore, I slid over the bar and barked, “I’m in the fuckin’ middle of something.”

  “Yeah, sunshine, so the fuck am I,” the man chimed back. “Got your woman. We’re at the park, far left corner by the picnic tables.”

  I whipped my head to Spook. “T has Chelsea.”

  How the fuck had T and his men known where to find my girl? Better yet, how the fuck had they gotten her out without Gonzo and his assholes knowing?

  “You’re fuckin’ shittin’ me,” Spook growled so damn low I felt the power in it.

  “No. Park.”

  “Fuckin’ take your brother and go,” Spook ordered.

  I looked at the van, knowing my mother was inside, then tagged my brother, and we took off in a jog.

  “On my way,” I told T. “She need a doctor?” I asked, not thinking straight. Of course she needed a damn doctor.

  “Uh, fuck yeah. Bullet in her leg, brother. Got fuckin’ blood all over my best jeans. Ain’t got enough Spot Shot to clean this one up.”

  I clenched the phone so tight I could hear the plastic cracking.

  I turned to Xander. “Need you to call Jackson. Know he’s watching the mom, but I need him here with a van now. Need you to call Needles to make sure he’s still at the clubhouse.”

  Jackson worked in the shop with me. He wasn’t an actual member yet, but he was working that way. With everyone on roundup with this shit, I needed to call who was available.

  Xander nodded. He wasn’t even breaking a sweat from the jog, reminding me I needed to work out more.

  I thanked God for knowing the ins and outs of this fucking town. When we hit the park, I looked at the area T had told me he was located. Six damn bikes were parked not too far, with the men standing around a table. On the table was my woman, tears streaming down her face.

  “Brother,” T called out. “Had to hold her down. Feisty one you’ve got for yourself, Stiff. She thought we were gonna hurt her and tried to get away.”

  Chelsea’s eyes widened when she saw me, and her body began to shake.

  I moved quickly toward her.

  “You’re alright, Fire,” I told her while assessing her injuries.

  Her beautiful face was marred by cuts and bruises. She had a bullet hole in her thigh, blood stains covering the area, and a rag of some sort was inside the hole, also covered in blood. She had a belt tied around her thigh, surely keeping the blood from flowing freely. That was good and bad. We needed to get the blood going back into her legs and feet.

  My temperature rose, but I did my best to keep it in check. I needed to take care of her and not lose my shit.

  “My leg,” Chelsea said then gave a pained moan.

  “I know, baby.” I looked at Xander. “Help.”

  “Right.” He tucked his phone in his pocket. “J is coming, and Needles is still at the clubhouse.” He then looked down at Chelsea. “Got yourself in a hell of a mess, woman. Now you know there’s only room for one pain in the ass in this family, and Stiff here has that covered.”

  While I didn’t think it was possible, Chelsea gave a very soft smile, lifting the corners of her lips.

  “There’s my brave girl. I’m gonna take a look,” Xander practically cooed.

  “Be careful and don’t hurt me,” Chelsea chided, and I fucking loved it. She was a hell of a fighter, and we had a shitload to talk about, but I needed to know how she was first.

  Xander chuckled. “Yeah, babe. Gunshot to the leg, so can’t make those promises.”

  Xander began to inspect her as I turned toward T.

  “Where the fuck did y’all come from?”

  T started laughing. “We’re in town for somethin’. Heard through the grapevine, which let me tell you is the shit here in Tennessee, that your woman was in trouble. Since you assholes were standin’ out front, and the dickhead inside was more concerned about you fuckers than us, I jumped in and got your girl.”

  Trapper was a member of the Devil’s Due MC. They were nomads who solved cold cases. A band of six who refused to let the shit stay cold. Each of them had personal ties to most of the crimes.

  I met Trapper and the others—Collector, X, Judge, Deacon, and Rowdy—on a charity run in Cloverville, Tennessee where Collector was from. Unlike Vipers, the Devil’s Due boys didn’t have titles; they rode as equals, each with their own story to tell.

  “Grateful for your help.”

  Trapper went to speak, but Xander cut in.

  “Need to get her to Needles. She lost a bit of blood. I think she’s runnin’ on adrenaline right now, and that’s about all. It’s gonna crash soon. I didn’t touch the fabric and glad I didn’t. There’s no exit wound, so that bullet is more than likely still in her. If it is, it could be stopping the flow of blood, which is a good thing, so I’m not fuckin’ with it.”

  “Fuck. Call J and see how far out he is.”

  Xander nodded, grabbing his phone.

  “What can we do to help?” Trapper asked, coming to stand in front of me.

  “Fuckin’ shit’s goin’ down at that house. Gonzo wanted to trade my mother for Chelsea. When I left, they were pullin’ up with her. Don’t know what the fuck’s goin’ on, but Spook and the guys could use a hand if you would.”

  Trapper looked at his crew, threw up a hand, and they nodded.

  “Fuck yeah, let’s go.”

  The other men climbed on their bikes and headed away.

  Belatedly, I realized I should have told them to be quiet, but then I figured they’d know what needed to be done.

  Trapper slapped me on the back. “Just don’t make a habit of it.” He chuckled as he walked off. “I’ll mail ya a bill for the jeans on Sunday,” he called out without turning around.

  “Thanks, man.”

  Fucker was bat-shit crazy, but I was thankful as shit he had been around.

  I moved over to Chelsea and grabbed her hand. “Is it just your leg, Fire?”

  She nodded, tears still running down her face.

  I brushed her hair away from her cheeks and planted a soft kiss on her forehead. “You’re gonna be just fine, babe. I’ll fuckin’ make it so.”

  She squeezed my hand right as one of our old van’s from Vipers Automotive came to a stop with J sitting in the driver’s seat.

  “Gotta pick you up and get you help.”

  “Yeah.” She whimpered quietly, and I didn’t fucking like it.

  Where was my spitfire? Where was my girl?

  I lifted her, and as I walked, I said, “We’ve got this, Chels. No givin’ out on me. You hear me?”

  A spark came to her eyes. That was what I fucking wanted. She kept it the entire way to the clubhouse, too, and even up to the point when Needles knocked her out to retrieve the bullet and close up the artery it had hit. He then gave her fluids and blood while Chelsea slept and I paced the damn room.

  Despite being assured she would be just fine, I didn’t fucking like it. Hated it, and I wanted her to wake up.

  GROGGY. YEAH, THAT was the word. I floated in the clouds in a dreamlike state. I could hear Stiff mumbling something but couldn’t make it out. I felt a squeeze to my hand then the whispered words, “Wake up, Chels,” that came from my sister Jenn.

  I wanted to wake up. I tried, but my body had other ideas and blackness overtook me.

  “WOULD YOU CALM down?” Needles asked, running his fingers t
hrough his hair. “I gave her a strong sedative. She’ll wake up in a couple of hours. Let her rest.”

  I knew he was right, and I knew he was being logical, but I wanted to see her damn eyes, wanted to hear her voice. I didn’t like this. Really, really didn’t like this shit.

  “Fuck,” I ground out.

  “Okay, big man,” Chelsea’s sister Jenn said from the chair beside her. “Let me sit with her while you go out and hit something or throw a car or whatever it is you do to calm yourself.”

  If I were in a laughing mood, that would have gotten at least a chuckle from me, but I wasn’t and really didn’t want to leave.

  “Yes, young man. You go. We’ll stay,” Bee said from the other side of the room, holding Jannie’s hand.

  They were right. Besides, I needed to get information, find out what happened after I’d left Spook and the guys. I needed to move, and me pacing wasn’t helping Chelsea and certainly not me.

  “Fine. You call me if she wakes,” I told Jenn, who grabbed her cell and held it up, wiggling it back and forth.

  “You got it, big man.” She gave me a soft smile.

  I took off through the clubhouse, pulling out my cell and was getting ready to call Spook when the door flew open and Spook, Bosco, Hooch, Dawg, Trapper with the Devil’s Due, and then my mother came in, followed by Xander.

  “What the fuck?” I asked, not giving a shit who answered. I wanted some answers and now.

  “Stiff,” my mother started, but I had my sights on the guys as Xander led her by me while she repeatedly called out to me.

  My nostrils flared. “Care to tell me what the fuck happened?”

  “Need beer and Jack, and lots of that shit,” Spook told Jackson who was now at the bar.

  He pulled a chair away from a table and sat, the rest of the guys following suit. They didn’t have smiles, but no frowns, either. Not one of the motherfuckers gave anything away.

  Spook kicked out a chair to me. “Sit.”

  I did, but my eyes stayed glued to everyone around me.

  “So …” Spook clicked his tongue as Jackson put several bottles of beer on the table then rushed off for more. “Got your mother out of that shit.”