Policy of Truth (Sacred Heart Continuum Series Book 1)

by Scarlett Holloway

  The name of the game was to try and knock down either twin in three-minute rounds. If the challenger was knocked down, they could get back up and keep trying, or tag in another girl. Because the twins were lethal, they had to wear the large boxing gloves to limit the damage to the other women.

  Durty watched Lace and the other girls surround the ring, the four men continuing to walk around, keeping the crowd in order. Stiletto was knocked on her ass first by the third female, shocked as she picked herself up off the floor. Tagging in her sister, Viper jumped in taking on the fourth girl, putting on a show for the fans.

  By the last girl, the twins looked exhausted, barely able to keep their hands up from the weight of the enormous gloves.

  “Congratulations to the third contestant, Jamie Allen, who knocked down Stiletto!” Durty called out over the crowd, her voice silencing the people. “No one was able to knock down Viper though! The winners for the best match of the night goes to─”

  Durty was silenced by a guy stepping over a hay bale next to Fenix, who was trying to grab at him to stop him. “Hold up!” He waved his hand at Durty. “You missed a fight.”

  Durty cocked her head to the side, eyes flicking over to Lace, who looked just as confused as she was. “Uhm, I don’t think so, did you sign up?”

  “I did, just now.” He spoke loud enough for the bystanders to hear him. The man wasn’t very large, but sported a scar on his left cheek, making him appear menacing. He was wearing a plaid shirt that was tucked into jeans and a pair of boots. Slowly making his way toward Durty, his voice grew louder. “Got a problem with that?”

  Viper lunged in front of the man, stopping him from reaching Durty, shoving him with her gloves. “Get these damn things off me,” she yelled at Fenix.

  Before Durty could answer, the man rocked back on his left leg and surged forward, swinging his right arm at Viper. The cracking sound of knuckles meeting Viper’s skull echoed in the silent building, dropping her like a sack of potatoes.

  Stiletto let out an enraged scream, sounding like a banshee as the male tore off the plaid shirt he wore. A t-shirt was revealed, sporting the Warriors patches on the back—a brother.

  The brother pointed a Durty and laughed. “Like I said, the fight ain’t over yet.”

  Panic raced through Durty, her brain trying to compute several scenario’s at once. She didn’t know exactly what to do in that moment, seeing Viper laid out, stunned. Stiletto screamed at the closest person, Flames, to untie her gloves and get them off her.

  Everything was in slow motion. Lace jumped over a bale, trying to get to Viper; Stiletto was desperately tearing at the gloves with Flames’ help, people moved in all directions making it harder to focus on any one thing.

  Things were going from bad to worse. Her brain registered a group of men charging forward wearing the same t-shirt the first male wore. Eyes darted over to Lace once more, right as her fist bounced off Viper’s attackers face.

  “Lace!” Durty yelled into her mic, trying to get her friend’s attention. “Look out!”

  It was too late. The surge of men, from what Durty could estimate was more than a few, flooded the ring, jumping on Viper and Stiletto. Three sidestepped the mass of tangled appendages and headed right for her. One reached out to grab her ankle, but was met with a steel toe to the temple as Durty kicked out, trying to stop from being pulled out from the bed of the truck.

  It didn’t matter, as a body crashed into the remaining two attempting to climb into the truck. Peeking over the edge of the tailgate, Sting was rolling on the dirt packed floor with the two Warriors, grunting as he swung and landed hits, but taking some as well.

  She had to do something. It was a massacre. All she could see were arms and legs moving, bodies rolling and blood slinging. The stench of blood and sweat was overpowering as was the various sounds of violence around her.

  She couldn’t call for help. That wasn’t an option. She was too injured to be of much use to anyone. It was to the point of desperation when she lost sight of any of the girls or guys. All she saw was warrior patches on shirts.

  Durty was about to jump down, but caught sight of Sting pinned by a large Warrior, whose hands were around his throat. Looking around the bed, her first thought was to grab the large bass speaker and drop it on the ass’ head. Reaching down to pick it up, she happened to glance into the cab of the truck, remembering Neshoba kept a shot gun behind the seat.

  Hurdling over the side of the truck, she yanked open the passenger door, flipped the seat forward and grabbed for the gun. Pulling the receiver back, it was loaded. Praying it had more than one shell, she let it fall back forward. Striding to the rear of the vehicle, she lifted the butt of the gun to her shoulder and aimed for the ceiling.

  “Enough!” she shouted at the top of her lungs, firing once into the ceiling, pumping another shell into the chamber.

  That one shot was enough to get the crowd confused and scattering for the exits.

  Turning her attention toward the ring, the Warriors vanished with the crowd, exposing the now wounded Angel’s and three bouncers.

  The gun was snatched out of her hands by Sting, who motioned for her to go to her sisters. She bolted past Toby and Danny, falling to her knees beside Viper, who was in a fetal position.

  “Talk to me, Goose,” Durty quoted one of Viper’s favorite movies to catch her attention, but she wasn’t answering her. “Fenix,” Durty called out for the prospect, since she was a nurse.

  “I’m with Stiletto, one sec,” was the shouted reply.

  Durty cradled Viper’s head in her lap. “Someone get a car ready. She needs a doctor, now!”

  Lace pushed herself up from the floor, spitting out dirt; wincing as she gingerly touched a cut above her eye. “I’ve got the Stang here. I’ll go get her.”

  “What the fuck happened?” A male voice cut through the confusion.

  “Where the fuck have you been?” Sting growled at Xander.

  Durty motioned for Toby to pick up Viper, and then glanced over at an untouched Xander, whose eyes were large as they looked around at the bodies and now empty building.

  “I was taking a shit when I heard a gun go off,” Xander griped.

  “Fine time to be taking a break,” Danny snarled at Xander.

  “I was told it was over, so I ran to the bathroom. I warned Durty when I got here I wasn’t feeling good.”

  “It doesn’t matter now, just help us get the twins to the car,” Durty urged Xander as Fenix struggled to pick up a passed-out Stiletto.

  Once the girls were tucked inside the car, Lace told them the story was that the twins were in a bike wreck. Tires spun as Lace tore out of the parking lot and toward town.

  Durty slumped into Sting, letting out a ragged breath. “What the fuck just happened?”

  Sting kissed the top of her head, pulling her closer into him. “Good idea getting the shot gun.”

  “I thought the guy was going to kill you. He was choking you.”

  “Aww, someone was worried about lil ole me?”

  “Ha ha.” Durty looked up at him, sticking her tongue out. “You tackled the guys trying to get me, so it looks like someone else cares.”

  “Me?” Sting rolled his eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching to hide a grin. “I was just trying to save your boots from getting blood on them.”

  Durty laughed, swatting at his stomach, pushing him toward the door. “We need to try and follow Lace to the hospital.”

  “Yo, Toby, Danny? You two help bitch boy and Fenix clean up? I don’t want anything else happening.”

  Toby and Danny nodded, though the sour look from Xander almost got a laugh from Durty. “Sorry, but it’s part of the job, Xander. Be sure and lock up, Fenix.”

  The prospect nodded, shoving a disgruntled Xander toward the concessions. “Grab some boxes, asshat.”

  Chapter 18

  Burn It Down

  “I honestly didn’t think I’d
be back in the hospital this soon.”

  Lace leaned into Steel’s hand when he ran his fingers tenderly over the shaved section of her head. She’d never imagined the Warriors would attack with so many witnesses. She knew the Res police would be calling her soon, asking about what happened.

  “The girls are fine. They got lucky. Some bumps and bruises, a black eye, busted lip. Nothing to panic over. Just pray no one there goes to the cops.”

  Of course, Steel had to confirm her worries. Sighing, Lace placed her head in her hands, scrubbing the palms across her face. Her hands fell to her lap with a slap. “Bronson will look the other way.”

  “Really?” Steel snorted, lightly pushing Lace’s head to the side. “Do you really believe that? After what happened at the bar?”

  “A girl can dream, can’t she?”

  “Then dream big, doll.”

  Lace groaned, letting her head fall back and thump against the wall. “I fucking hate drama, H. Does this shit ever stop?”

  Her reaction seemed to amuse him. “When you put that many vagina’s in a room, you need to ask?”

  “Point taken,” Lace grumped, scooting down in the chair, extending her long legs out. Her knees were aching from the rain. Had to love getting older. “I just want one, just one, uneventful evening. Is that too much to ask?”

  “In the life we lead? Drama breeds in it. You know that. If it’s not some charity, it’s a party. If it’s not a party, it’s a run. Not a run? It’s a job.”

  “Ugh, speaking of which.” Lace leaned into him, laying her head on his shoulder. Swinging her legs up and over his lap, she tried not to shiver as he laid his calloused hands on her thighs, feeling the warmth of him through the denim. Her voice lowered to barely above a whisper, “I’m going to need one or two of your guys to provide escort for a job.”

  “Stiletto?”

  “I wish, but no. It’s a high-profile job, but it has to be done by complete insiders.”

  Steel gave the barest of nods. “We’ll talk more about that later. Because of what happened, I’m guessing you didn’t get Vader a message?”

  “Kinda got busy, H. Between the insurance companies, the cops, and visiting a comatose sister? I haven’t exactly had the time.”

  “Sarcasm will get you nowhere, Tilly. You need to set this up and stop any more attacks from happening.”

  “You can’t honestly believe if I set up a meeting with him, it’ll stop the attacks?” Lace shook her head, pushing off his lap.

  “It might not, but it’s worth a try.”

  “I’ll text him later and set it up.”

  Steel produced her cell, holding it out for her. “Do it now.”

  “You’re a pushy fucker.” Lace snatched the phone out of his hand with a low growl. “Sometimes, I really don’t like you.”

  “No, you love me. Now get to texting.”

  Muttering something incoherent, Lace punched out a text to the number she had for Vader. Enough. Meet?

  “There. Happy now?” Lace locked her phone, tossing it to the seat next to her.

  “It’s not about me, Tilly.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I know, but you could at least allow me to pout.”

  “Pout all you want to.” Steel paused, turning his head to look at Lace. “But if you keep it up for more than five minutes, me bringing you coffee stops. Only I get to pout for long periods of time.”

  Seeing the amusement in his eyes, Lace punched his arm lightly. “You’re such an ass sometimes, you know that?”

  “Ow!” He rubbed his arm, dodging another swing.

  When she missed, Lace crossed her arms over her chest, tucking her chin in slightly, lower lip sticking out. “It’s not your turn to be a baby. I still have four minutes and twenty-seven seconds.”

  His laughter floated up from his throat. “Well, I’ll stop the timer if you agree to go out with me.”

  That stopped Lace in her tracks. Caught off guard, Lace stammered, “Wh─what? Stop fucking with me. You’ve never asked me out.” She wasn’t sure about how she felt about him asking her out. Sure, she was thrilled at the prospect of being alone on an actual date, but he’d never shown any interest prior to now. “Are you high?”

  “I’m serious. I’ll take you out Saturday afternoon. But you must promise not to back out on me, or this timer keeps ticking.” Steel glanced at his watch then back to Lace. “Three minutes and fifteen seconds, fourteen, thirteen─”

  Lace cut him off, excited at the idea of going out somewhere with him that wasn’t club related. “Alright, it’s a deal. I’ll go.”

  “Good, it’s settled. I’ll let Vader know you agreed to the meet.”

  “The fuck?” Lace’s jaw dropped as her head snapped to the right, glaring at him.

  “What?” Steel asked innocently. “I knew you’d conveniently forget to text him, so I was just helping. The meeting needs to take place, why take any more chances?”

  “Then why the hell did you have me text him, if you already had this shit planned?” Lace was furious at being duped. She wasn’t sure what she was madder at—herself for falling into a trap of make-believe that he’d actually want to go out with her, getting her hopes up, or that he knew her well enough to take matters into his own hands and set it up for her.

  Not giving it any thought, Lace balled up her fist and swung as hard as she could, landing squarely on his shoulder.

  Steel registered surprise, but fell out of the chair onto the cheap carpeting of the hospital’s waiting room, holding his side as he burst out into a fit of laughter.

  “You could at least act like it hurt, you fucking jerk,” Lace snarled, unable to hide the humor in her voice. He always had a way of pulling her out of her moods. Sad as that was, she was glad he’d be with her when she met Vader. It might keep her from killing him.

  “See. You’re not pouting anymore.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Aww.” Steel rolled onto his knees, and then got to his feet, sitting next to Lace once more. “Do I need to start the timer again?”

  Chapter 19

  Just a Kiss

  Durty watched Steel fall to the floor in a fit of laughter, a single brow rising with a slow shake of her head. “You’d think with the way those two act with one another, they’d hook up.”

  Sting looked over at his president acting like a teenager. “Maybe they’ve known each other for too long?”

  Durty shrugged, tugging at the band that held her hair up. “From what I’ve heard, they’ve known one another since high school. I’d hate to be the person to come between them. She’s way too protective over him.”

  “Hmm,” Sting reached up, swatting her hand out of the way, pulling out the band for her.

  Durty let her eyes fall closed, enjoying his fingers in her hair. “I can honestly say I’m starting to hate this place.”

  “I can take you back to your place, if you’d like.”

  “That sounds great.” Durty forced her eyes open, trying not to purr at the comfort she derived from Sting combing his fingers through her hair.

  “You look exhausted, and you’re not exactly dressed for the weather. Let’s get you out of here.” He took hold of both her hands, tugging her to her feet. “We don’t need you shooting up the ceiling because you’re cold.”

  There was something warm and enchanting about his humor when he teased her. Blush crept up her cheeks, waving his playful banter off. “Give me a break. I did what I thought was right.”

  “And it couldn’t have been a better decision. You were perfect, Durty. Honestly.”

  Durty couldn’t help but blush more at his praise, not used to being talked to that way. Rubbing the back of her neck, she ducked her head, trying to hide her scarlet colored cheeks behind her hair. Where was the exit?

  Sting laughed as if he were sincerely amused by her antics, placing his hand on her lower back to guide her out of the room. “I need to make you blush more often.”<
br />
  “No,” Durty playfully wailed, following him down the hallway to the exit.

  “Oh yeah, you’re too cute not to embarrass.”

  Sliding her arm through his, her laughter met his own. “I’ll cook us something once we get to my place. I don’t know about you, but I’m starved.”

  “I could eat…” Sting slowly drug his eyes over her. “Something.”

  The tingling started from the back of her neck, and rose to her face. Feeling flush, she took a deep breath of the cold air as they stepped outside, hoping it’d help cool her down. “Glad to know I’m not the only one hungry.”

  She had to play it off. There was no reason for him to know how he affected her. She wasn’t the type to jump into bed with someone. Right now, she’d have given anything to be more like Stiletto—a free spirit and able think of sex as it was, just sex. A way to get off. Stress relief.

  Climbing into his truck, Durty withdrew into herself, debating on the pros and cons of sleeping with Sting. She had no doubt he’d be excellent in the sack, but she wasn’t into one-time things. Then again, who said it’d be one time, right?

  “Penny for your thoughts?”

  His voice jerked her out of her personal battle of the wits, causing her to stutter. “H─huh?” Durty blinked several times, trying to regain her composure. He seemed to be peering at her intently while she mentally juggled responses that might satisfy his curiosity. “Debating on what to make, what I have in the fridge.”

  Unable to see his face in the dim lighting, she was sure there was a flicker of disappointment registered there. His voice led her to believe otherwise, light, yet unemotional. “I’m easy to please. Just call me the human garbage disposal.”

  “Right,” the single word was drawn out as they pulled into her driveway.

  “It’s true.” Sting put the truck into park, opening his door to hop out. “Just ask my mom.”

  Durty followed suit and opened her door, taking his hand that was offered to help her out of the vehicle. “Where do they live?” She realized she really didn’t know much about the man she was attracted to.