Retribution: A Motorcycle Club Romance

by Valentine, Sienna

  “You have to stay back here,” said Will. “That’s the deal. I don’t want anyone knowing you’re here.”

  “What happens if they search around?”

  “They’d find you just as fast at the house as here. The distance might keep you safe from gunfire, but otherwise it’s only the illusion of safety. And they’re not going to get far enough to search around, anyway.” Will looked her straight in the eyes with an intense gaze that made her shiver. “Just stay in here, read, whatever. And call for me if you see anyone suspicious coming around outside. Understand?”

  Eva was already fed up with his coldness. “I think I can handle it.”

  She thought she saw Will’s gaze drag down her body before he turned away from her without another word. He’s treating me like I’m a complete goddamn stranger, she thought. Figured I’d at least get another round in bed out of him before that happened.

  After that awkwardness had passed, she was almost glad to be hanging out in the back office and away from Will and her brother. She could hear the jukebox playing quietly as she slipped off her shoes and propped her feet up on the desk. For at least an hour, she fought intrusive thoughts of the dark and brooding man in the other room, both happy and sad.

  It took her a while to find some rhythm between reading parts of her book and checking the monitors, especially with the distraction of Charlie going in and out the back door just next to the office as he knocked chores off the daily list in his pocket. Whatever Will was doing, she couldn’t see or hear it, and that was just fine with her.

  It was less than two hours later when, out of the corner of her eye, Eva spotted movement on the video feed for the parking lot. A big black SUV pulled slowly into the gravel lot and damn near right up to the door, looming large under the bent perspective of the security camera lens.

  Her feet dropped to the floor as he waited, not wanting to unnecessarily panic the men until she was sure. It could just be a customer, after all. But when all four doors of the SUV popped open at the same time, Eva felt her heart drop into her stomach.

  “Will,” she said. It came out a choked whisper, quieter than the jukebox music.

  Men hopped out of the vehicle and Eva jumped to her feet, rushing into the bar space without putting her shoes on first. Will was poking mindlessly at the video poker machine at the end of the bar while Charlie stared at his repair manual, oblivious. She grasped onto the back room wall.

  “Will,” she said again, louder this time. Her voice was already trembling.

  When Will looked up at her wide eyes, the cold version of him from this morning was gone, replaced by the passionate one from the night before, his gaze burning with worry at the sound of her voice.

  He straightened like an arrow in an instant, reading her face just like he had that first night. “They’re here,” he said, stealing the words right from her mouth. At the bar, Charlie came to attention with a dark look, his eyes moving from Will to the door in an instant.

  “Charlie,” said Will with a nod. Her brother swept the manual off the bar and out of the way, then leaned down and dug up the shotgun that Owen usually kept in the office. He cracked the barrel to make sure it was loaded, and then did his best to hold it out of sight on a shelf below the bar, as Will must have instructed him to do. Eva felt her chest tighten up. Christ, am I about to see someone die?

  Will stalked across the bar as the sound of doors shutting snapped outside. He came right in front of Eva and put his hands on her shoulders. “Get back in the office and stay quiet.”

  “What are you going to do?” She didn’t know why it mattered at that moment, but it did. Stupid, naïve girl. What did you think was going to happen?

  Will swallowed. “Get back in the office.” He gave her a push that was both urgent and gentle. Then he turned and looked at Charlie. “Like we talked about—don’t draw until we have to.”

  Charlie nodded, his nerves clearly battling with his anger as he shifted on his feet, waiting.

  Eva backed up into the office and immediately sat down to put on her shoes, readying to run if she had to. She turned off the overhead light and sat huddled, watching the men on the overhead monitors as they came into a group to talk for a small moment.

  Suddenly Will appeared in the doorway of the office. “Do you see guns?”

  She startled. “What?”

  “Guns—are they armed?” He pushed in and leaned over her to get a closer look at the monitor, his face hovering right next to hers. His breathing was steadier than hers, but surprisingly she could hear a ragged, nervous undercarriage to it.

  His eyes narrowed as he focused on the view of the four men huddled in grainy black and white on the TV screen.

  “Are they?” she asked breathlessly.

  She saw something hopeful cross Will’s face. “I don’t think so. Or if they are, it’s sidearms. No one looks like he’s packing anything automatic.”

  “And that’s good, right?”

  Will looked down at her. Their faces were close enough that his lips hovered dangerously close to hers. She could feel the heat from his skin and thought she saw the tiniest of smiles touch his eyes.

  “Yeah, that’s good. Less guns is always good.” His voice was barely a whisper, words crawling on her skin.

  Eva swallowed, somehow both frightened and racing with bold adrenaline. Is this what Will feels like all the time, if this is his kind of lifestyle? It was exhausting—and intoxicating.

  He straightened and put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. “Stay here. I mean it.”

  He didn’t wait for an answer before disappearing back into the bar. The men on the video began to move for the front door, and Eva’s nerves started to crackle under her skin, her breath racing.

  The bar door groaning and squeaked as it opened, the men paying no attention to the fact that the open sign remained dark. The tiny hope that Eva had that maybe they were just customers dissipated as she listened to footsteps shuffle in. At first she heard what sounded like casual, friendly conversation between the men entering, like they were trying to play it off as if everything was normal. There was something unsettling about that for her.

  Will’s voice came from the bar room next, somehow both forceful and quiet. “State your business here.”

  The buzz of conversation stopped and the bar door slapped closed on its doorjamb. The song on the jukebox faded out before changing over to Three Dog Night.

  “Ah, this must be the pendejo I’ve heard so much about,” said a Spanish-accented voice. “What happened to the civilized gentlemen, eh? What happened to those days?”

  “State your business or get the fuck out. We’re closed.” Will’s voice was louder now, still firm.

  The tension in her little room was suffocating, and Eva couldn’t stand it. She took her shoes off again and, in her slowest, most deliberate steps, crept out of the office and against the wall that separated the bar from the employee spaces. She sank to her knees quietly and, holding her hair back with one hand, peered around the wall as far as she dared to get eyes on what was happening.

  Charlie shifted nervously behind the bar, hands on the surface itself, as she was sure Will instructed him. Hidden hands didn’t inspire trust. But the shotgun was stretched out on the nearest shelf below, waiting patiently for him. In the middle of the bar room, Will stood like hero cut out of stone, or stepped out of a painting, his shoulders square and back straight. Fists fell at either side of his wide, dominating stance. The four men stood in a half-circle, watching him lazily, confidently. Except for the one in the bun, who had a sling on his arm—he glared at Will with a fiery hatred.

  “Are you the owner, finally?” asked the Latino man standing next to the man with the broken arm. “All of these dramatics—this is all we asked for in the first place.”

  “I’m not going to tell you again,” said Will.

  “We are here to make a simple business offer,” said the man, spreading his hands out in front of him.

&nbs
p; Will looked from him to each of the other men. “Not interested. Get the fuck out.”

  “You haven’t even heard our offer.”

  “This is not cartel territory. Get the fuck out.” The danger in Will’s voice made Eva shiver.

  Their eyes widened at mention of the cartel, and the men exchanged looks with one another, surprised. “Ah, this little birdie knows more than he lets on,” said the leader, walking a few steps forward. “Who are you?”

  Will didn’t move as he approached. “I’ll count to five. One…”

  Two of the men laughed at each other. Smiles spread to the rest, including the man with the bun. The leader turned to look at them in amusement before he looked back at Will. “Are we children who did not finish our vegetables?”

  “Two.”

  Christ, what does he think he’s doing? Eva’s heart raced as she grasped at the wall in anxious agony.

  “Three.”

  “I do not think this cowboy understands what’s going on here, gentlemen,” said the Latino leader. As if that was some cue, two of the men shifted and started taking off their jackets.

  Eva saw Charlie stiffen at the bar, his hands dropping down, shaking as they waited for the cue to grab the gun.

  “Four.” Will still hadn’t moved. He stared at the leader, unflinching.

  “I’m bored with this,” said the Latino leader. He took a few steps back and flicked his hand. The two men who had taken off their jackets revealed thick, hulking arms under tight black shirts, and now they both stalked toward Will with murderous intent.

  A scream got caught in Eva’s throat as she felt her heart stop.

  Underneath it all, she heard Will say quietly: “Five.”

  The leader hadn’t moved back far enough. Will’s first strike sent stiff, sharp fingertips right into the gullet of his throat. Instantly the man gasped for breath through his pinched windpipe. Wooden floorboards creaked underneath him as he crashed to his knees, hands clawing at his throat, gulping in panicked fear like a fish pulled from a lake. The man in the bun started yelling in angry, rapid Spanish and bent to uselessly try and help his comrade with his one healthy arm.

  The two hulking brutes didn’t stop advancing on Will. A glint of silver appeared in his left hand, and then suddenly he was leaping toward one of them, slashing as the man stopped in surprise. He yelped as Will’s knife connected with his skin, cutting through the pathetic layer of his black t-shirt and opening big, if superficial, slices of skin across his muscular chest and upper arms. The man stumbled backward, grasping at himself as blood began to gush from the wounds and drip onto the floor.

  The second thug used the moment to sweep behind Will and wrap his enormous arms around him in a clenching bear hug, pinning his arms to his sides. Will howled and thrashed like a trapped wolf, kicking his legs wildly, knocking over the tall round bar tables he could reach, but unable to get any leverage.

  Thinking Will was trapped, Charlie fumbled for the shotgun and brought it out from under the bar just as Will took a daring risk and brought the knife in his left hand down hard into the thigh of the man who held him, barely missing his own leg in the tussle. The man screamed and released Will, who instantly ducked and twisted away from his captor until they faced each other.

  The thug pulled the knife out of his leg with a trembling, bloody hand and growled at Will like an animal as he spun it in his unsteady hand to wave around as a threat. But before he could do anything with it, Will drew back and delivered a forceful punch to his face, hard enough that Eva heard cracking and felt the jolt run up her own bones as she huddled in fright.

  The thug fell hard to the floor on his back, head lolling around on the floor as he fought to stay conscious. Will stalked up to him and hovered over him ominously.

  Behind the bar, Charlie anxiously swept the barrel of the shotgun back and forth. The other Latino men began to yell in protest, and the one with the slashed chest advanced on him, trying to help his fallen brother.

  Charlie cocked the shotgun, and its unmistakable sound made everyone in the room freeze and take notice—everyone except Will.

  Eva watched with wide, horrified eyes as Will stood over the incapacitated man with a darkness on his face she had never seen before. Will looked at him for a few heavy seconds that seemed to drag on for eternity. Then Eva saw him lifting up the shirt on his right side, where he kept his concealed handgun holster.

  No… no… no…

  The Latino men saw what was happening, too, and they started screaming at Will in angry voices, in both Spanish and English. With Charlie’s shotgun on them, they were helpless to intervene.

  Will stared at the man as if he was in a trance, drawing the silver handgun from its holster and aiming it steadily, right at his face.

  “You shouldn’t have come here,” said Will, so quietly that Eva wasn’t sure how she even heard him over the frightened din.

  The protests only grew when Will pulled back the barrel and loaded the gun. Before she realized what she was doing, Eva jumped to her feet and rushed into the bar room, calling his name desperately.

  “Don’t!” she screamed, her hands up as she reached him, stopping on the other side of the injured man and staring at Will. Everyone in the room turned to look at her in surprise.

  “Eva, get the fuck out of here!” yelled Charlie.

  She ignored him, focusing only on Will as he stared down at his victim. “Will, don’t do this! You don’t have to kill him!”

  Like he was being pulled out of a trance, Will dragged his gaze up to meet hers. “Eva, what the fuck are you doing?”

  Tears stung her eyes as she pointed to the man on the floor. “You don’t have to kill him, Will! He’s out!”

  “You don’t understand a fucking thing,” he snarled. The gun in his hand didn’t move, didn’t shake.

  Fury and desperation built up in Eva’s chest as she met his eyes, and saw the raging dark storm inside his mind. She didn’t know why she said what she said next, didn’t know why in a million years it was the first thing that popped into her head, but the words tumbled from her mouth in desperation anyway.

  “Anger’s my meat; I sup upon myself, and so shall starve with feeding.”

  The room fell quiet, save for the panicked breathing of the injured and threatened men. Everyone’s eyes flitted from Will, to Eva, and back again, trying to decipher what was happening between them.

  Will froze, staring into her eyes. She could see something changing. She could see something washing over him. The gun in his hand started to tremble. His breathing came wet and shallow.

  Will began to blink and blink, like he was waking up. He stared at Eva a few moments more, then looked down at the man on the floor, sinking in and out of unconsciousness as Will threatened to make it permanent.

  Eva felt every muscle in her body let go when Will finally lowered his arm.

  Will didn’t fully turn to the men, but only bent his head enough that they knew he was talking to them. His voice was deep, black with promises of death. “Get out.”

  The Latino men didn’t move at first, instead staring nervously at Charlie. Charlie only shook his head at them. “What he said. I’ll give you five more seconds to get out.”

  They didn’t deny the invitation a second time. The man in the bun and the man with the slashed chest did their best to awkwardly carry the man from the floor out to the SUV. The leader, still huffing to retrieve his breath, gave the three of them a heavy, incredulous look, one hand still cradling his throat where Will had struck him. He said nothing as he followed his men out into the daylight and disappeared.

  ~ THIRTEEN ~

  Will had never felt frozen like he did now. The weight of the handgun hung at the end of his arm, heavy and unsatisfied. He watched those motherfuckers stumble out the door, all four of them still breathing, still in one piece. Their blood on his blade wasn’t enough. They owed him life.

  If anyone had asked Will what he felt in that moment, he would have told t
hem he was too angry to move. He didn’t realize that was possible, or what it could even feel like, but he knew now. He knew he was a nuclear reactor on the verge of a meltdown, and if he even so much as stepped a foot toward Eva in that moment, he would explode and send them all into oblivion.

  The thought came with a second emotion: fear.

  His eyes felt heavy and he let them close as he focused on steadying his breath. From outside he could hear the men pile sloppily into their SUV, doors slamming shut one at a time. A moment later the vehicle revved to life and quickly sped away, throwing rocks and gravel against the bar. He heard Charlie’s exasperated breath release in a great huff, and the thunking sound when the barrel of the shotgun knocked against the bar. And he heard Eva’s ragged, teary breathing at the edge of it all.