Retribution: A Motorcycle Club Romance

by Valentine, Sienna

  “Eva!”

  She sighed as Charlie’s voice came closer, finally spotting her in the meadow. He came to stand before her with his arms crossed.

  “I don’t want to talk to you, Charlie,” said Eva, sniffling. She turned her head away from him. “I can’t believe you just betrayed Will like that, after everything he’s done.”

  “Excuse me?” said Charlie, instantly flustered. “Eva, did you not hear everything that was said in there? That man is a criminal, and he works with other criminals.”

  “Oh, Christ, that’s not what bothers you,” said Eva. “Half your friends from the neighborhood have records, so don’t get all high and mighty on me, Charles Murdock.”

  “You know he wanted to mount a two-man war, with me and him, to track down those cartel boys and kill them? He was gonna rope me into that bullshit, if I hadn’t put a stop to it. And it’s not just us he’s tried to fuck over. According to his biker buddies, he’s been pulling shit for months now. That guy is dangerous, Eva.”

  “Of course he’s dangerous—he lives in a dangerous world,” said Eva. The tears in her eyes didn’t feel sad anymore; they stung with anger. “And he protected us from that world when it showed up. That’s all he’s tried to do!”

  “Jesus, you’re in love with him, aren’t you?” Charlie spat in disgust.

  Eva paused, then rose to her feet. She didn’t know what she felt for Will, other than that it felt as if parts of her were on fire that she didn’t know existed. “What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

  “Eva, Christ, you sure know how to pick ‘em. First Rick, the worthless, abusive dirtbag, and now some psychotic, fucked-up biker? You’re a piece of work.”

  Before she could stop herself, Eva slapped her brother across the face. Charlie cried out, more in surprise than pain, but she could still see the red mark where she connected. Her brother looked at her with shock in his eyes, but said nothing.

  “Watch your mouth.” The voice that came from her sounded unlike any tone Eva had ever taken, especially with Charlie. “I’m not responsible for Rick’s behavior. And don’t you dare compare him to Will.”

  Charlie scoffed just a little, rubbing the side of his face. “Christ…”

  “Do you have any idea what he’s been through? Do you know why Uncle Owen was able to afford this land so cheap in the first place?”

  “What?” said Charlie, frowning. “What are you taking about?”

  “Will’s grandmother was murdered here. Murdered in her own home by the cartel, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it. You really expect him to sit here a second time, in the very spot she died, and watch it happen again?”

  Charlie took her by the shoulders. “We’re not his family, Eva, he doesn’t have to protect us. We don’t know anything about him. I’m trying to protect you, too—don’t you see that?”

  “If Will hadn’t been here, we’d both be dead, and you know it,” said Eva in a cold tone. “Is this really about protecting me, or is about you being too full of pride to admit that this time, you can’t?”

  Charlie flushed red, giving her all the answer she needed. She knew her brother too well for him to get away with a lie so cleanly.

  “Will isn’t some crazy thug out looking for a fight. He used his power to protect us, just because he could—because he knew it was the right thing to do.”

  “Or because he likes fighting,” said Charlie. “Or because he saw an opportunity to get into your pants by playing the hero.”

  Eva folded her arms. “Is that how little you think of me? Like I’m some child stupid enough to think fairytales are real and princes come riding in to save people? I’m not an idiot, Charlie. You can give me shit for caring about Will, fine, but don’t try to write it off like I’m just some dumb bimbo who can’t help but be seduced.”

  “So you do have feelings for him.”

  “Yes, all right? I care about him,” she said. “I care about Will, and you know why? Because I see something in him that you apparently can’t look deep enough to see. It’s the same kindness and gentleness I used to see in Pa—and in you. He’s not perfect. He’s done bad things. But he’s not a bad man, and he was doing the right fucking thing by us until you turned him in to his club. You could have at least been a man about it and told him to his face you didn’t like his plan.”

  “I did tell him that, Eva. He wouldn’t listen. Has he listened to a damn word I’ve said since he showed up in this place?”

  Eva didn’t respond. She didn’t have an answer for that. The sounds of the forest filled the silence between them.

  Charlie sighed and came closer. “Look… all right,” he said, his voice calm. “All right. You’re right, the guy has clearly been through a lot. And I will even go so far as to say he maybe, probably thought he was doing the right thing, protecting us. Or protecting you, is probably more accurate.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “He doesn’t look at you like you’re a stranger, Eva. He looks at you like he’s known you all his life. If I had to guess, I’d say your feelings are reciprocated.”

  Eva blushed and felt her stomach twist in nervous knots.

  “But you have to believe me when I say that Will’s plan, it wasn’t safe. It was insane.”

  Eva looked down in silence at the grass swaying at her feet, the sweet wildflowers bending and bobbing. She couldn’t admit that she had been worried about Will’s plan, too. In all earnestness, she assumed his tactical mind would see it was a bad plan as soon as he was a few days removed from the victory in the bar. But could she really blame Charlie for what he had done—for not seeing what she saw in Will?

  “What do you think is going to happen to him?” whispered Eva.

  Charlie rubbed a gentle hand up and down her arm. “I don’t know. But I’m sure he’ll be fine. He’s definitely capable of taking care of himself.”

  ~ SEVENTEEN ~

  Tension ran up Will’s back and shoulders, all the way into his head, as he followed Jase and Ghost down the long hallway. On their separate bikes, he had followed his MC brothers not back to the Black Dogs clubhouse, but to an abandoned factory in the foothills outside of LeBeau where they frequently conducted meetings such as these. In fact, they had acquired the place after finding it when Jase’s now-wife and Henry’s daughter, Maggie, was kidnapped and held hostage by a rival gang. Will had flashes of the memories of helping to save her as he was led through the empty main machine room, past the empty concrete storage rooms, and into a vast open shipping bay.

  Dim, dusty sunlight came through the enormous windows at the top of the room, some of them with glass shattered long ago and spider webs in their place. Already, men waited for them as they entered the room. Will could see Henry, his president, waiting with a cold look on his face. Across from his club, a line of Latino men stood. Two of them wore fine, tailored suits, their jet-black hair slicked neatly against their heads and drawn back in tight ponytails. The other three dressed much like the men who Will had fought at Swashbucklers, in jeans and tactical boots and leather jackets meant to be intimidating. Will only recognized one of them: Jorge Ramirez, leader of the cartel himself, in the blue pinstripes. The last time Will had seen him was when he had offered up the men who murdered Will’s grandmother.

  Will walked up to Henry and realized he hadn’t seen him in a while. There was something strange about the feeling. He met Henry’s face with a blank expression, unsure what to expect.

  “Can we get this started, at last?” said Ramirez.

  Will looked around at the faces. “What’s going on?”

  Henry sighed and walked to the center of the line, standing next to Will. Without instruction, Ghost and Jase sidled to the ends, flanking.

  “Seems we have some problems to attend to,” said Henry.

  “Is this the pendejo who has sent mine home, bleeding and broken?” The other man in the suit pointed a fat finger at Will, snarling. He trailed off in Spanish, something Wi
ll couldn’t translate, but knew wasn’t a compliment.

  Will squared his shoulders as adrenaline began to pump through his veins. “I take it that means you’re the shit-for-brains who sent your men to get beaten in the first place?”

  Henry slapped a huge palm on Will’s chest and gave him a stone look. He pushed him back to stand a few steps behind, and Will didn’t argue. Henry turned to the Latino men. “This is a clear violation of the treaty we drew up, Ramirez. We keep the mountain pass free and clear, and you keep your men from any operations inside LeBeau or Howlett. That was the deal. Now I’ve got word of your men pushing in on bar in Howlett? This is unacceptable.”

  “Not just any fucking bar,” said Will. “The bar built on the ashes of the place you fucked up last time. This isn’t just political betrayal, this is sacrilege.”

  “Betrayal? You are the one who has started warfare with my men,” said Ramirez. “Not a single firearm brought to the fights, no one was threatened with death, and yet they come home with stories that you threatened to shoot them. Is this not also a violation of your treaty?”

  Henry stiffened. “Your men wouldn’t have been in any goddamn danger if they hadn’t been trying to break the rules in the first place! You fucking agreed to this, Ramirez—no cartel business in my goddamn towns. This is my corridor, you understand? And you play by my rules if you want to get through it smoothly.” He took two steps toward the cartel leader. “The truce has been violated by your men, first and foremost. Are you going to do something about it—or do I have to?”

  Ramirez narrowed his eyes at Henry. “Be careful, Black Dog.”

  “Go fuck yourself,” said Henry without fear. “You fix this, or we’ll withdraw the whole treaty right here and now and see who comes out on top.”

  Everyone in the room tensed, eyes shifting from face to face, waiting for someone to break. Everyone except Ghost—Will swore he heard him giggle in delight as he unclipped his sidearm in its holster, readying to pull.

  Will stared unblinking and angry at Ramirez as the man stared at Henry, clearly in thought. For a few moments, everything was silent and still as Ramirez weighed his options and everyone else waited to see if his decision would end in chaos and death.

  Finally Ramirez seemed to sigh almost indiscernibly. “I see there is no other solution to this problem. I will be straightforward with you, Henry. This problem with the bar is a symptom of something bigger—something I was hoping to have worked out internally before it affected my allies.”

  Henry turned to Will and gave him a curious look. Will returned it, as in the dark as his leader was.

  “Leadership is a very precarious thing. Even the appearance of weakness can threaten it,” said Ramirez.

  “I understand that well,” said Henry with a nod. “If you’re asking for our discretion, we will provide it—assuming we come to a satisfactory agreement for this violation.”

  Ramirez nodded. “Gentlemen, would you be so kind as to follow me?” He waved hands at his own men, gesturing them to lead the way, a show of trust to leave the MC at their backs. Will and his brothers exchanged glances with each other, making sure everyone was on guard and paying attention as they followed the cartel carefully through the shipping bay to the last rolling door at the end of a long line of docks meant for eighteen wheelers and other big machinery. One of the men in the leather jackets hoisted up the noisy door, with only a little trouble, from its rusted hinges.

  A black van sat cold and silent just outside the door. The man in the jacket jumped down off the dock and opened the rear double-doors of the van before stepping back and out of the way.

  Will and the MC shuffled up toward the door to get a look at the van. Inside, they saw the bodies of five men stacked in a haphazard pile, wrists tied and eyes blindfolded. When he looked closely, Will could see one of the bodies still wore a sling and a cast on his broken arm.

  “These are the men responsible for bringing us here today,” said Ramirez, folding his hands in front of him. “Four of my lieutenants were talked into the scheme by… unfortunately, by a man who was once my closest ally. His name was Paulo, and he was attempting to sow the seeds for my upheaval from power.”

  “A coup?” asked Henry.

  Ramirez nodded and blinked slowly. “He was, in fact, the architect of the arson previously in your territory, the one to which your man referred earlier.” He nodded toward Will. “Paulo orchestrated the violence that led to our treaty, and he was always resentful of losing his men and the territory for the act. He never agreed with my decision to accord with your club. Apparently, his first act to overthrow me was to rectify that situation and start where he left off.” Ramirez looked down at the corpses in the van and sighed. “How he was able to talk the others into it, I don’t know. But it’s over.”

  Will’s chest tightened, adrenaline running through his veins. He stared down at the familiar bodies in the van, knowing one of them was the man responsible for his grandmother’s death—truly responsible. And he had almost done it again with Eva. More than that, he saw in Paulo’s anger and resentment some ghost of his future, where resentment for his own club led him to do something as drastic as Paulo had—and with as high a price. Could that have been him in the back of one of the MC’s vans, snuffed out by Henry, or even Jase, for endangering the club in his prideful quest for retribution? In more ways than one, Will suddenly felt like he had barely missed being hit by a freight train.

  “You have my word that this will not become an issue again while I lead,” said Ramirez. “Your pass will remain untouched, and your men need not worry about having to dole out beatings anymore. I’m sorry you had reason to doubt your faith in us.”

  Henry held his hand out and Ramirez shook it. “Good. Let’s get back to business as usual, then.”

  He stood staring at the van as voices faded into the quiet around him. Suddenly men were closing the doors, hopping inside, and starting up the vehicle. Jase’s hand landed on his shoulder.

  Jase looked down at Will, and worry crossed his face. “You all right? You look pale.”

  Will looked back at the closed doors of the van as the brake lights blazed red, tailpipe belching. He felt lightheaded. “Yeah, just…” He backed up, unsteady, until his back hit the cold, hard concrete of the docking bay wall. He slid down to the floor. “Just give me a minute.”

  Jase knelt down next to him and said nothing. From back in the bay, Ghost wandered over with a curious look on his face.

  “You need some water?”

  Will shook his head. His stomach roiled and his pulse beat in his head like a muffled drum. It was like some floodgate inside him had broken open and spilled inside his brain as soon as he heard Ramirez’s words, as soon as he comprehended the sight he was seeing in the back of the van. Had some deep part of Will’s lizard brain understood all this time that someone hadn’t paid for the death of his grandmother? Had he known, somehow, Paulo was out there? Because at this moment, he felt the relief he had expected to feel when he shot the arsonists two years ago in this very warehouse. Relief hadn’t come then, but it arrived now so forcefully that Will felt like he was being yanked up and out of a nightmare.

  In his mind’s eye, he saw Eva; sweet, beautiful Eva in her delicate dresses, smiling up at him, kissing his skin, writhing underneath him. A horrifying realization washed over him. If he hadn’t been so distraught in his grief—if he hadn’t been unsettled—he might never have started going to Swashbuckler’s. He would have never met Eva, and he wouldn’t have been able to protect her from the cartel. He knew deep in his gut that both she and Charlie would be ash and bone right now, if not for the crushing grief that drove Will to visit the site of his deepest pain.

  His mind felt stuffed, ready to break. He looked up and saw Jase searching his face with curious eyes.

  “What’s up?” asked Jase.

  Will shook his head as if to say he didn’t know. He took a few breaths and tried to find the words. “I just… I’m overwhelme
d.”

  Jase nodded. “Understandable.”

  “Call me crazy,” said Ghost, walking closer, “but you look like a completely different man right now, Will.”

  “You’re crazy,” said Will half-heartedly.

  Ghost chuckled. “I’m serious. Look at his eyes, Jase.” He pointed. “You’re telling me that’s the same guy that was pushing you around the bar an hour ago?”

  Jase did as Ghost asked and turned to look Will in the eyes. Will expected it to make him uncomfortable, as it consistently had the last six months, but he didn’t feel that way now. It was like Jase looked different, too.

  Jase stared a moment, then furrowed his brow. “Huh. That’s… that’s fucking creepy.”

  Will actually laughed. He laughed without thinking about it, or without stopping it. “You’re both crazy.”

  “Something’s gone from your eyes, that’s for sure,” said Jase. “I don’t know how else to explain it.”