HEARTLESS

by Storm, Franca

  “One of his guys? Not him. It ain’t exactly a sure-fire location then.”

  “We got visual confirmation,” I cut in. “We tracked the tracer to an abandoned office building outside Brockford. We recently expanded surveillance a ways beyond the city. He’s within that range. Dunno if he knows that and is just being a cocky fucker, or he figured we only had cameras inside Brockford, like the way it’d been before he went to ground, when Rox was in charge.”

  “It’s already been half a day since his thug headed back there. We’re running on borrowed time. Gotta make a move real soon,” Ax says.

  Wells nods. “All right.”

  “Wheels up at nightfall,” Ax tells him.

  “We’ll meet you at Brockford’s northern border.”

  The two of ˈem shake hands again, then Wells and Russo head out.

  “I’m gonna get that fucker,” Ax mutters, brushing past me and heading to his bike.

  “Yeah, brother.”

  My gut twists, cuz I’m lying. I’m lying to my Prez and one of my best friends, my brother.

  It’s what I gotta do, though.

  It’s my job to protect the club, to protect him.

  And I’m damn well gonna do it.

  No matter the cost.

  Chapter 27

  ~Halle~

  Sipping at my coffee, I gaze out at the countryside extending for miles beyond the farmhouse. It’s absolutely beautiful and so peaceful, compared to what I’m used to from living in the City of Brockford. Under any other circumstances, it would be a welcome retreat.

  I’m about to take a seat on the steps, when the thunder of motorcycles reverberates through the area. Two of them come over the hill and make their way down the long, dirt road towards the farmhouse.

  It’s Smiter and Ax. They left at the crack of dawn for a secret meeting.

  They reach the heavily-guarded gates, the guards waving them on through.

  The two of them dismount and head over to the main doors. Smiter’s eyes light up as he notices me. He claps Ax on the shoulder and hangs back.

  “Halle,” Ax greets me, as he passes on by into the building.

  “Hey.”

  “Sweetheart,” Smiter says, giving me a squeeze. He pulls back and looks me over, taking in the sight of me in his club t-shirt, a pair of black yoga pants, and fuzzy slippers. “Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes? Even dressed down, you’re a fucking knockout, woman.” He reaches around and tugs lightly on my high ponytail. “Loving this, Hal.”

  “It’s just up, because I don’t have things here to do my hair properly.”

  “It’s sexy as all fuck,” he insists, pushing his weight against me, so I’m forced up against the wall.

  “Smiter,” I giggle, slapping his chest. I flash my eyes at the gates, the heavy security presence there. “Not out here, baby.”

  “You sure?” he challenges, trailing his fingers down my neck, to my boobs, to my stomach and stopping at my thigh, which he then squeezes with a possessive growl. “I know you got an exhibitionist side to you.”

  He’s really pushing me. He knows how good he is, how much his teasing turns me on.

  But there’s too much weighing on my mind. I can’t just pretend everything is fine and allow our intense sexual whirlwind to whisk me away into a state of apathy towards what’s going on all around us.

  I shake my head and look up at him. “I’m worried, Smiter.”

  He pulls back, frowning. “Hal, you know I’d never really take you in front of my brothers, yeah? I’m just playing, cuz I know it gets you going.”

  “It’s not that.”

  “What then? You’re safe here. Everything’s gonna be okay. You don’t gotta worry. I got you. I’ll protect you.”

  “I’m not worried about me.”

  “Me, then?” He scoffs. “I’m all good, sweetheart.”

  I lower my voice to a whisper. “I know what you’re planning to do.”

  “What you getting at?”

  “I know you’re planning to murder Frankie!” I hiss, annoyed that he’s trying to hide it from me.

  His eyes widen and he looks around anxiously.

  The next thing I know, he’s snagging my elbow and dragging me towards the barn a few feet away. As he pulls me inside, I see lots of sealed trunks lining the floor.

  “What are those?” I ask, curiously.

  “Protection,” he answers, brusquely.

  Does he mean weapons? I hope not. That’s extremely concerning.

  He releases me, then folds his arms across his chest, studying me curiously. “Who told you?”

  “Told me?”

  “ˈBout what you said outside.”

  “No one told me, Smiter. I figured it out all on my lonesome. Why? Because I’m not a fucking idiot!”

  “All right!” He blows out a breath. “Jesus.”

  “With everything that’s going on, you guys haven’t been as discreet as you usually are.”

  Stepping forward, he tells me, “You can’t know ˈbout this. You got me?”

  “I… what?”

  “Ax don’t even know. This is real volatile, Hal.”

  “I’m well aware. We are talking about murder here, after all.”

  He looks all around again, really paranoid and on edge. “It’s more than even that. I’m going against my Prez’s wishes here.”

  “I know. For his own good, as you guys seem to believe. Are you really going to murder Frankie for the supposed good of the club?”

  “It’s my job to protect it, to protect Ax.”

  “That’s not a definitive answer.”

  He scrubs his hand over his bristled jaw. “He deserves it.”

  “Is that what you think justice is?”

  “You don’t think so? That it?” he snaps, becoming angry. “After everything he’s done? He attacked the club! He went after our families! He went after you! He killed my fiancé!” He steps closer, glaring down at me. “You told me, Hal. You told me to do it. Endorsed me killing him. So, what? You’ve had a change of heart? Your conscience is kicking in now you’ve had time to think on it?”

  “I told you to do what you thought you needed to, so you could finally move on and be at peace. I thought you’d realize that killing him and exacting vengeance wasn’t the path to any sort of peace!”

  “What?” he gasps, jerking back. “You… messed with me?”

  “What I did was try to get you to see it for yourself. I know all too well that no one can make you do anything. You have to come to the conclusion on your own.”

  “You know me too damn well, woman,” he mutters.

  I take his hands in mine and tell him softly, “You want peace? You need to stop chasing vengeance, stop assuming that achieving that will put an end to all the regret, guilt, and grief you carry with you. You’ve already taken steps to moving forward. You just need one final push. And that push? That’s letting it go. Finally. The only way to do that is to look to the future. We promised each other, Smiter. You just need to follow through. Until then, until you embrace what you could have, you’re always going to be glancing in the rear-view mirror and regretting what you no longer have, what you lost.”

  “Hal, I—”

  “I know you don’t really want to kill him.”

  “How’d you figure that?”

  “Because you keep going back and forth on it. If you really wanted to do it, you’d be set about it, steadfast.”

  He pulls away and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Even if all that was true, I already agreed to it with the boys.”

  “And?”

  “And, if I don’t do it, Ax is gonna, ain’t he? I can’t let that happen. He’s club Prez. We need him at the helm. He’s made the club strong again, made it a family again. And, he’s a husband and a father.”

  “How about no killing, huh? Why isn’t that an option? What about putting him behind bars? I’m sure you have enough evidence to take to the cops and have him put away for years.”
<
br />   He scoffs. “You think jail will stop a man like him? He’s got major reach, Hal. That ain’t gonna change if he’s in the slammer. Guys like him can still do damage. Ain’t gonna be safe ˈtil he’s buried.”

  “So, you’re going to kill him, then become a ghost, just like Dealer? Disappear into the ozone?” I throw my hands up in the air and turn away from him. “After the promises we made to one another? I can’t believe you’re doing this to us, to yourself!”

  I hear his heavy footsteps coming up behind me. His arms come around me then, holding me to him from behind, my back to his chest. “I ain’t planning on breaking none of ˈem promises, sweetheart.”

  Agitated, I jerk out of his hold and spin to face him. “What are you talking about?”

  He slides his hand into my hair. “I figured on you coming with me.”

  “You… what?”

  “Think I could leave you behind? After everything we’ve been through to get to this point together? Fuck, no. I ain’t never turning my back on you. I love you. You’re my whole fucking world, Halle.”

  Wow… that’s… intense. Sweet. On the surface. He’s factored me in. In a major way, actually.

  But, he’s neglected to consider my life at all. “You just assumed I’d give up everything I’ve worked for? Turn my back on my business, my home, my girls? You didn’t even ask me, before you agreed to go this route. You just assumed you’d drag me along for the hellish ride? Come on. I’m not some malleable, unopinionated woman without a life of her own.”

  He rubs the back of his neck, something he does when he’s really stressed out. “What do you want me to do? I’m stuck between a rock and a fucking hard place here. I ain’t leaving you behind.”

  “You put yourself in that position when you agreed to take out Frankie.” I step up to him and try to reach through his stubbornness and his misplaced sense of duty. “You can pull yourself out of it, though. Don’t go ahead with it, Smiter. Stop this madness.”

  Our eyes lock and the intensity passing between us at the insane stakes is brutal.

  I see his gaze start to soften.

  “Brother!”

  Smiter’s eyes leave me and the moment is lost, as he looks over my shoulder to the owner of the voice. I turn to see Grit standing there, ushering him over.

  “What’s up?” Smiter asks.

  “We gotta prep for tonight.”

  Smiter looks to me, hesitating. “I—”

  “Come on! The boys are waiting!” Grit calls, urgently.

  “All right,” Smiter grunts.

  He moves to pass me.

  I grasp his bicep, whispering, “If you try to go ahead with this, I’ll stop you.”

  His gaze is pained, and he shakes his head sadly. “You can’t, sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

  As I watch him trudge out of the barn, following Grit, it only strengthens my resolve. I won’t let him do this. He’s always protecting everyone else, but himself. Well, I’m here now. I’ll protect the man I love.

  I need to bring out the big guns.

  Given what I’m standing among right now, that seems more apt than it should be.

  What a mess.

  ***

  “Rox!”

  She stops and turns just before entering the kitchen. “Hey.”

  “We need to talk.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Here’s the thing,” I begin.

  I tell her everything.

  All about what Ax is planning to do with Frankie. About what Smiter’s prepared to do to prevent it and protect him and the future of the club. The pressure Smiter’s facing from Runner, Dealer and Grit. What it’s going to cost him and us. The fallout I can see for Ax and the rest of the club. All of it.

  When I’m done, she stands there wide-eyed and unmoving for several moments.

  I get it. The whole thing is shocking and absolutely awful.

  “I should’ve known, but I’ve been focused on Ava. He’s been… off. Evasive. Distant. It’s not like him. We’re partners. He tells me everything.” She runs her fingers through her hair. “Not this, though. He knows I wouldn’t be on board with it. Dammit, Ax! His fear and anger at what could’ve happened to our daughter is clouding his judgment. It’s flipped a switch inside him.”

  “I’m sorry, Rox.”

  She draws in a breath, trying to get herself together.

  And then she eyes me determinedly. “I won’t let Smiter take the heat to protect my crazy husband. You know he’s a good friend, just like you are.”

  “I do have an idea. It’s risky. I’ll need your help to pull it off. It won’t go over well with our men.”

  She cocks an eyebrow.

  Here goes nothing.

  Chapter 28

  ~Smiter~

  My finger’s hot on the trigger.

  My free hand’s fisted, ready.

  I scan the room quick.

  Carnage. Chaos.

  Frankie had a ton of muscle packed into this place. All armed to the teeth, too.

  Ax made the right choice partnering us with Savage Slayers. Ain’t no way we coulda done it without the thirty of us coming in hard and fast. Not without a load of us taking hits. Well, maybe if we’d just torched the place. But, then, we couldn’t be sure we got Frankie. He’s the head of the monster. With him gone, the entire thing falls. His followers are paid. They ain’t got no loyalty beyond a paycheck. They ain’t gonna come for us with him buried. They’re gonna move on to the next asshole who’ll pay ˈem.

  It’s the main reason I’m looking ˈround and seeing only wounded and unconscious figures all over the place, not dropped bodies. No corpses here. No murders. I ain’t saying no shots were fired. But, they’re all still alive. Savage Slayers sure didn’t want it that way, but we put our foot down. We ain’t operating with the old ways.

  Except when it comes to Frankie. We gotta take him down. Like I told Halle, he’s the kinda guy who’ll be a threat ˈtil the day he finally stops breathing. Don’t matter if he’s caged. He’ll get at us. Again.

  I flinch at a harsh buzzing from the earpiece in my right ear. It’s Runner tryinˈ to get word to me. He’s running point back at the clubhouse. He’s outta dangerous missions, so we got him watching over the op. He’s real good with strategic stuff. Comes from being Road Captain for so many years.

  “Yeah?” I bark.

  “You got him?”

  “Nah,” I rasp, fighting to catch my breath. Ain’t easy barrelling through a load of big muscle for forty-five minutes straight. It’s been a while since I had to do it and I ain’t exactly in my fighting prime no more. As Runner calls it, I ain’t no spring chicken.

  “He ain’t inside? I got no sign of him on the outside neither, Smiter,” he says, talking ˈbout the feed from the security cameras all ˈ'round the building that we tapped into. Ain’t none inside. Guess Frankie did that on purpose, just in case somebody managed to hack it. That somebody for the exterior ones was Ax. He’s good at that technical stuff. Better than me. Taught me a lot when I started as Sergeant-at-Arms. He kinda had to be up on shit when it came to security cameras, cuz he used to be a professional thief before Thorns. A real good one, too.

  “Where the fuck is he?” I hear Runner blaring in my ear, as I scan the interior, real anxious now.

  Most of the boys are at the rear going through dozens of packing crates that take up half the floor space. From what I can see, it looks like a mix of stuff. Weapons. Mostly automatics. Crazy fucker. There’s some knock-off designer purses and clothing. Pricey antiques. Frankie always did have his fingers in a lot of pies. The stuff in ˈem crates is just his side stuff. Investments are his main thing. Not the regular stocks and bonds kinda stuff. Nah, investing in businesses and people. People pay him to make things happen for ˈem. Bad things. Down ˈnˈ dirty things. And every now and then he buys up businesses for a set reason in mind, as part of a bigger picture. It all goes to his main goal. Power. He’s a megalomaniac. No matter how much he has, it ain’t
never gonna be enough for him.

  We got fallen muscle over there and all along the sides that got beaten back hard by us when we barrelled in through the double doors.

  The rest of the space is taken up by desks with top-of-the-line computers on ˈem. They were being manned by his hackers when we first burst in. Desk jockeys. None of ˈem were fighters, so we just subdued ˈem over in the corner with some zip-ties.

  But, of all the faces I’m registering, none of ˈem are Frankie’s.

  “He ain’t here, brother,” I report in to Runner, now I’m certain he ain’t hiding among the fallen.

  Before Runner can get a word out, a roar over to my right has me ending the connection and snapping my gaze over there. I know all too well who it belongs to.

  With Wells, Russo, and Grit at his back, there Ax is hauling one of the hackers onto a row of desks. Monitors, keyboards, and papers go crashing to the floor.

  “Where the fuck is Frank Newman?” Ax thunders at the whimpering, freaked-out guy.

  “I… I can’t. He’ll kill me.”

  Ax snarls down at him. “You’re worried ˈbout him right now? I’m the one standing here.” He smashes his fist into the guy’s face, making his head snap to the side, blood spewing outta his nose. He screams and raises shaking hands up to cover his face.

  I’m there in the next second, as Ax lets his fist fly again. I block it right before it hits the guy, catching it in my palm.

  “What the fuck, Smiter!” Ax growls, jerking his fist free of my grip and stepping back.

  “Give him a second. It’s clear the guy don’t got a high pain tolerance, ain’t it? You hit him one more time and it’s probably gonna have him passing out.” I catch the guy’s eye and tell him, “ˈCourse that means, you don’t answer in the next couple of seconds, we know you ain’t gonna be no use to us.” I gesture at Wells, the closest person to him with his gun drawn. “He’s been itching to put somebody to ground. We been tryinˈ to play nice, but, you keep holding out on us and we ain’t gonna hold him back no more.”

  I give Wells a chin lift. He nods and cocks his gun for effect.

  It works fucking wonders, cuz the guy pulls his hands away from his face, and sits up on the desks with a groan. Wiping the blood outta his face with the back of his shirt sleeve, he tells us, “Frank left here a little while before you all showed up.”