“When I spoke to him, it sounded like it was a warzone,” Rox reports.
“Just by the gates. We got the inside protected and locked down. Runner’s taking point, cuz I ain’t up there.” Smiter releases me and I turn so I’m facing him and Rox.
“How bad is it?” I ask.
He hesitates for a brief moment, before saying, “It’s gonna be fine.” But that hesitation, something that isn’t normal for Smiter, seems to signify something else altogether.
When Rox and I frown at him in concern, he tells us, “Stay here. Both of you.”
“What? No!” Rox protests, grabbing his arm as he tries to brush past us. “We’re getting Sarah and the babies out.”
“Trust me, Rox. It’s handled.”
“What the hell does that mean? My daughter is inside!”
He gently pries her hand off his arm and then pulls his gun, scanning the scene inside.
“We got it.”
“We?” she asks.
Smiter gives a head nod through the house. Rox and I peer through to see Ax standing by the front door.
Oh.
Everything happens in a flash then.
Smiter barges on through the kitchen, his gun in firing position. He doesn’t hesitate for a second before firing off two shots into the closest enemy target, one to the kneecap, one to the gut. He moves with the grace of a well-trained fighter, but with the unflinching and unstoppable determination of a machine. As the first guy hits the ground, screaming and grabbing at his wounds, another pulls his gun.
Ax lunges across the room and tackles him into the wall, ripping the weapon from his grip. In a lightning-fast move, he dislodges the clip, then smashes his fist into the guy’s temple, knocking him out cold. He drops to a heap on the carpet like a ragdoll.
But Ax isn’t done. He lunges at the last guy and starts wailing on him. “Motherfucker! You come into a home where my baby girl’s at? Threaten her! Try to fuck with my family? My club?” His fists of fury are marred with blood within moments, so brutal and vicious are his hits, that I’m not sure if it’s the guy’s blood, or his. As the guy starts slumping to the floor, his eyes closing, Ax just yanks him back up, not done dealing out punishment.
“Ax, he’s out. He’s out, brother,” Smiter says, his arms coming around him and forcefully pulling him off the guy. I see Smiter’s muscles bunching and straining to accomplish the task, because Ax is a huge guy, just like him.
“Fuck,” Ax murmurs.
Rox brushes past me and runs into the living room. Ax’s sad eyes meet hers. There’s so much pain in their exchange at what could’ve been lost today. It’s heartbreaking.
Ax wraps her up in his arms.
“Fuck, babe. I’m so sorry. I switched my phone off. Today was supposed to be just a brief break from the club. Didn’t know this was gonna go down. Jesus fucking Christ.”
“How could you know, baby? It’s all right.”
“Nah, it ain’t. It ain’t.”
Rox pulls back and strokes his cheek. “I need to see our baby girl. I can’t wait another second.”
“Yeah. Yeah, babe.”
***
~Smiter~
“We got ˈem. Swear they’re untouched. Not a scratch, brother. Safe,” Ax tells Runner.
We’re hanging back while we watch Rox, Sarah and Halle buckle the babies into their seats in the Hummer. We got Runner on speakerphone, holding Ax’s phone between us. Just did the same thing with Grit to get an update.
“Thank fuck. If something had—”
“Don’t think like that,” Ax tells him, tryinˈ to keep him calm. Kinda hard to do when he ain’t been able to lay eyes on his family yet. Plus, Ax don’t really feel that way. His reaction in the house made it clear all he’s thinking ˈbout is what coulda happened.
“Runner, you sure the clubhouse is secure now? The gate situation?” I cut in, needing him to focus, even though I know he’s worked up ˈbout his family. This is vital shit, though.
“Took out the bastards at the gates. Security tower’s fucked, cuz of ˈem grenades. Ain’t gonna say it’s secure, ˈtil we’re sure there ain’t gonna be another wave of attacks coming at us.”
“I know. Finish locking shit down, then head to the safehouse with the rest of the boys. We’ll meet you there in an hour.”
“Got it.”
We hang up.
Rox walks up to us. “What’s the plan, Neil?”
“You take the wheel. Head to the safehouse down the back roads. No matter what, you keep driving. Remember that thing’s bulletproof. Me and Smiter are gonna be right behind you. You keep ˈem windows up, Rox. Don’t help us if shit goes down. Your job is to drive and get ˈem babies to safety. Nothing else. You feel me?”
“Yeah. Okay.”
“You sure you know the route?” I ask her. It’s been a while since we last did a drill.
“Yeah, I know it,” she confirms with a nod.
Without another word, she turns away and heads back to the Hummer. We watch her usher the girls back in. As we mount our bikes, I ask Ax, “She okay? Didn’t say much to you.”
“She’s shut down right now. Knows we’re in crisis, so she’s all ˈbout the mission and no emotions. More shut down she is, more it means she ain’t okay.”
“And you?”
“Jesus,” he mutters, scrubbing his hand roughly over his face. “Knowing how close those assholes were to my baby girl… then seeing Rox ˈbout to take ˈem on and put herself right in their line of fire? Nah, brother. I ain’t fucking okay.”
He don’t get to say no more as Rox revs up the Hummer and starts peeling on out of the area. We haul ass and follow on her tail.
The ride outta downtown and onto the back roads goes without a hitch. Rox keeps just below the speed limit. Only ever see her do that when she’s got Ava in the car with her. Otherwise, she’s a crazy-ass driver, just like Ax. Reckless. Much as we all wanna get to the safehouse, rushing is just gonna draw attention to all of us, so it’s best she’s taking it easy. We still dunno how many more of the enemy are out and about in Reirdon Falls unchecked. Grit had been dealing at one of the city borders when Ax had finally gotten word ˈbout what’d been going down. By the time he’d called him back, Grit had it under control, so Ax had ordered him to split the guys he had between all the borders to monitor ˈem and then he’d sent Grit up to the safehouse to manage things ˈtil he could get there, after taking care of the shit going down at Runner’s place. Once we get things settled at the safehouse and calm everybody down, Ax’s plan is to send out scouts ˈround Reirdon Falls to locate any more enemies we ain’t yet taken care of.
But immediate safety of club family is first priority.
Then comes the rest.
I’m pulled outta my thoughts, as I watch the Hummer swerve suddenly. What the fuck?
An unmarked white van comes barreling from a side road onto the main back road, slotting itself between our bikes and the Hummer. It cuts us off in such a real dangerous way, forcing us to drop back quick, or go smashing right into the back of the thing and ending up as roadkill.
Ax heads to the left lane to pass it, but the van moves into his path. When I try to do the same thing on the right, it pulls the same blocking move.
Ax looks over at me and gives me a signal, letting me know he’s gonna go on up the hard shoulder, which ain’t much more than rough, dirtied ground. Wants me to go on up the narrow right, while the van’s distracted tryinˈ to block him.
Before we can do it, the back windows roll down and adrenaline pumps hot through my veins when I see two guys lean out holding firearms, and take aim at the Hummer.
My gun is in my hand faster than I can register it. One look at Ax has me seeing his Desert Eagle. He fires off a shot before the assholes can pull their triggers. It hits the guy in the left back window square in the shoulder. He screeches and drops his gun, the thing lost under the van.
The second guy, seeing his buddy wounded, starts shooting wildly at the
Hummer.
Props to Rox, as she keeps the car steady through it.
We fight to get a shot in at the asshole, but the driver’s caught on and keeps the van swerving from lane to lane.
“Smiter!” Ax bellows over the gunshots and the roar of our engines.
I swing my head his way. He’s pointing at their tires.
He don’t gotta say more.
We fire, him taking out the rear left tire, me taking out the right. The van lurches, but still tries to keep after Rox’s Hummer. Dumb fuckers. Ax comes up on the left side and takes a couple of shots at the front left tire, blowing the thing out. He pulls back quick, joining me, as we hit the brakes and pull clear away when the van skids across the road, burning rubber ˈtil the driver brings it to a jarring stop.
“Ride after the girls. Make sure they’re safe the rest of the way,” Ax tells me.
“I got this. You go.”
“That was your Prez giving you a direct order,” he says, his eyes hard. He dismounts and I watch him pull out some ammo and switch out the magazine in his piece.
“Ax, listen, brother. I think—”
“Smiter!” he roars. “Fucking do it! She’s almost outta sight now. Get riding!”
I fire up my bike again, taking in the look in his eyes. There’s a deep void. Dead fucking eyes. He’s off the damn reservation right now. It’s bad enough an enemy coming onto club territory and pulling shit, but with it coming so close to his family, it’s pushed him too far.
“Go!” he bellows again.
He stalks over to the van in the distance.
I take off in the next second. I gotta hurry. Who knows if there’s another load of these assholes waiting to pull some more crap like this? Not happening.
I swallow hard when I hear ear-piercing shrieks behind me. Thing is, I know it’s just the beginning of the punishment Ax is gonna deal out.
This is war.
Chapter 23
~Smiter~
I come to a rough stop right outside the farmhouse and dismount quick.
Keeping my eye on Rox ushering the girls and the kids outta the Hummer in my peripherals, I take in the situation.
Major unease and unrest. A bunch of the boys are out front, some smoking, some pacing up and down wildly. All eyes go to me as soon as I step forward into their view. It’s then, for the first time in a long time, that I feel the weight of it. Being the guy they’re all looking to. Head of club security. This is on me. Not just this aftermath neither.
Everything that went down in Reirdon Falls is on me.
Those fuckers making it all the way up to the clubhouse unchecked.
Blowing the gates and tryinˈ to take the compound.
And, worst of all, ˈem going after club family.
The fact that they targeted the Prez’s baby girl is a major deal. I know it’s sent shockwaves through the entire club. How could it not? It’s cuz it means nobody is safe, if our enemy was able to get to the most protected person in the whole fucking club.
Jesus Christ. How the hell did this happen? So hard and fast. No goddamn warning.
The slam of the front door has me looking to see Grit striding my way.
He greets me with a fist bump, then eyes my bike and frowns. “Where’s Ax?”
“Some of the assholes tried to take out the Hummer. He’s… dealing with ˈem.”
“Fuck.” He gestures behind him. “This ain’t gonna calm down ˈtil he gets here. I might be VP, but they want their Prez.”
“He’ll be here.” I scan the area. “Where’s Dealer?”
“On his way. Why? What happened at Runner’s place? Those fuckers went for the kids, yeah?”
“Yeah. Ax is right on the edge. Hung back to deal out punishment. That’s why we need Dealer up here ASAP. I mean, we got pull with the Sheriff and the big shots governing things in our region, cuz of all the business we brought Reirdon Falls, the free security for everybody, and all that. But this is a lot to explain away.”
The roar of bikes coming close has us both turning to the mile-long dirt road leading up this way. I make out Runner leading a convoy of club members, some on their bikes, some in vehicles with their families. I turn to Grit. “We good on supplies?”
He nods. “You’ve done a good job keeping ˈem up on a regular basis. All good.”
“Least it’s one thing I’ve done a good job with,” I mutter.
Grit grasps my shoulder. “Nobody saw this coming. Nobody.”
“Still, I—”
“Don’t do that, brother. You did all you could. You had security in place at the clubhouse, the checkpoints ˈround the city. These guys just came in real hard and fast. We’re at peace now. They knew it. Knew we weren’t prepared to respond to a full-on assault. We ain’t meant to be neither, right? We been tryinˈ to keep outta the bullshit that brings this kinda thing on.”
I shake my head. “Seems like no matter how hard we try, we get pulled back in.”
“Still gotta keep tryinˈ. It’s all we can do.”
“Yeah.”
A sudden wail has us both spinning ˈround.
We watch Sarah bolt out in front of the incoming bikes, her son tight in her arms, calling out to Runner.
Soon as he sees her, he signals the boys quick, then makes a sudden stop, parking in the middle of the courtyard. He rushes over to his family and wraps ˈem up in his arms, as the rest of the boys ride on by and park in the designated area. I grimace at the state Sarah’s in. Hysterical. She ain’t hard-as-nails like Rox. Today was way too much for her. Runner catches my eye and I give him a chin lift, letting him know to take his time consoling her. I got it.
Fuck. Do I?
I pinch the bridge of my nose and draw in a couple of deep breaths, fighting to get a grip and push down the guilt and the overwhelming shit that needs doing. One thing at a time.
There ain’t no choice. I gotta have a handle on all this. It’s my job. Everybody’s counting on me.
I turn to Grit. “All right. Let’s get this show on the road, brother.”
Before either of us can do, or say, another thing, Rox comes bounding over with her baby girl on her hip. Halle’s right behind her, looking all around, wide-eyed.
“Where’s Neil?” Rox asks. Well, it’s more like a demand. She ain’t the type of woman who asks nice and sweetly. She’s all business. Especially right now.
Me and Grit exchange a look. She ain’t gonna like the answer.
“He’ll be here any second,” I tell her, sidestepping the truth.
“Smiter!” she snaps.
Fine. Fuck. “He hung back to deal with ˈem shooters.”
“What?” she yells. Baby Ava starts crying at her tone. It has Rox forcing a calm that I know don’t come easy to her. “Fucking idiot,” she mutters.
Grit reaches out to her. “You gonna be okay, Rox?”
“Yeah.”
“All right. Ax is gonna want you in with us on the meet when he gets here. You good ˈtil then to get Ava situated with one of the Old Ladies? Then, we’ll call you in when it’s time.”
“Okay.”
“Is the doc here yet?” I ask Grit.
“Yeah. We got the wounded in the mess hall being treated by him and a couple of the boys who’ve got medical training. Once Sarah calms down, it’d be good to have Runner helping out there too. He’s good with that shit.”
“Still zero fatalities?”
“That’s right,” he confirms. “We’re real lucky on that. Jesus.” He looks back at the farmhouse, then tells me, “You focus on securing the immediate area, then the clubhouse situation second. I’m gonna go sort this, put everybody to work, get the women and children in their rooms. Got it?”
“Yeah.”
“Let’s move.” He motions for Rox to follow him.
“Smiter?”
I look to see Halle eyeing me in question. Fuck, I ain’t said a word to her. It ain’t totally by accident neither. When I’m focused on club business, especially a cr
isis situation, I don’t let no emotion in. And, Halle? Well, fuck, she’s the goddamn heart of me.
“Sweetheart?”
She places her hands on her hips, all hard resolve. “What can I do?”
“Do?”
“How can I help?”
I can’t stop my smile, or the pride that surges through me. She wants to help, not shy away. It ain’t gonna be pretty, but she don’t care. Don’t care ˈbout herself, or fear, none of that. She’s thinking ˈbout others, how to make the situation better. She’s something else.
I look her over and there ain’t no sign of her being freaked by what’s gone down. No trembling. No signs of shock at all. It’s gotta have impacted her, no question. It would anybody, especially somebody not used to it. But she’s real tough and able to compartmentalize it to get shit done. Real fucking impressive. “You wanna go with Grit, help get the women and kids situated? Keep ˈem calm?”
“Got it.”
With that, Grit takes her and Rox with him into the farmhouse, ushering all the boys in with him.
I scan the area and blow out a breath. Never thought we’d really be needing this place. The massive farm-like estate we commandeered when Ax became president.
Never thought we’d be at war again neither.
But now, heads are gonna fucking roll, big time.
***
“Where is he?” Rox gripes.
She looks out at all of us gathered in the den for the war meet. We’re still waiting on Ax. Everybody else needed is already here. Except for Dealer. We got word that he’s downtown at Runner’s home with the Sheriff, working to contain everything and keep all of us outta jail.
I look ˈround at the anxious faces. Grit. Runner. Mullet. Sin. Rox. Couldn’t cut the tension with the sharpest blade. Runner’s chain-smoking, looking outta the patio doors. The old guys, Mullet and Sin, are talking ˈbout old times. Grit’s leaning against one of the couches, staring off into space. Rox keeps tapping her foot on the old wooden floor, as she leans against the far corner wall.
The door bursts open.
Ax storms in.
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