Edge of Chaos

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Edge of Chaos Page 9

by Brynn O'Connor


  She clears off the dining room table and puts a clean plastic table cloth on it. She will have him lay there. It’s the best-lit place to work.

  After everything has been set up, she returns to the kitchen to finish her coffee and wait.

  He must be pretty bad, she muses. Hopefully, it’s just another knife wound. I don't relish the idea of having to dig out a bullet without anesthesia. Even Luke isn’t that tough.

  She’s about to help herself to a third cup of coffee when someone pounds on her front door. She runs to open it and nearly collapses in fright when she sees Luke. He is wrecked! Her heart drops as she helps his friend bring him into the house. He is covered in blood from the top of his chest to his waist.

  “Where’s he hit?” she asks, as they half-lead, half-drag him into the dining room.

  “Him? He’s not hurt at all,” his friend says.

  “You?” she asks.

  “Someone else, actually. It’s a long story that he’ll no doubt tell you.”

  She leads them into her living room where Luke collapses on her couch. She winces, thinking that she will probably have to buy a new couch. Blood stains are difficult to remove.

  “Can I get you a drink?” she asks Luke’s friend.

  “You can get him one, but I’ll be taking off now.”

  “Oh…okay. Well, thanks for bringing him.”

  “Yup.”

  Luke’s friend shuts the door behind him, leaving them alone. Kayla grabs a glass and a bottle of Scotch. She pours a drink for him and grabs another glass. She has a feeling she’s going to need something strong too before the morning is over. She brings him the glass and he downs it without a word. She studies his face. He’s pale. His eyes are bloodshot, but haven’t lost their sparkle. Maybe he’s not as wasted as she first thought.

  She sits down beside him. He reeks. Normally, the smell of blood doesn’t faze her. But tonight, the combination of blood, sweat, and fear is a noxious potion she does not want to imbibe. She forces herself to remain where she is seated.

  “Do you want to tell me what happened?” she asks.

  Luke just sits there on Kayla’s couch, staring into his empty glass. He is completely oblivious to his surroundings. Kayla wonders if he can even hear her. She scoots a little closer, takes his free hand in hers and asks again.

  “Luke, what happened? Where did all this blood come from?”

  Luke suddenly stiffens, his eyes focus on her face and she can read the agony there. He’s holding on to something so awful, so horribly painful he just can’t voice it.

  “What can I do to help you? ” she asks. “Tell me who got hurt, Luke.”

  He lowers his head. “Carter,” he says, his voice cracking in grief.

  A terrible thought crosses her mind.

  “Luke,” she begins. “Did you…did you accidentally hurt him?”

  He reacts like he’s been stung. He jerks, sits up straight and throws the glass in his hand with all his might against the far wall of the living room. Amazingly, it hits on the bottom and doesn’t shatter; but Luke does.

  He collapses face forwards on the floor and just lies there unmoving.

  Kayla sits there for a second, unsure of what she should do. She’s not inexperienced when it comes to telling families bad news and she knows everyone reacts differently, but Luke is acting really strange. Suddenly, he just curls up into a fetal position and bursts into tears. Great sobs wrack his body. His fists clench as he brings his knees even tighter up to his chest. His mouth opens in a silent scream. It’s like a tortured soul being wrenched from his body. For the first time this morning Kayla is afraid. She knows that she does not have the skill to deal with whatever demons Luke has unleashed in her living room and for a second she actually considers just leaving. She nearly gets up from the couch and runs for the door. But she can’t leave him. Hell, she wouldn’t leave anyone in this shape, friend or not.

  Just as Kayla is frozen to her couch in fear, Luke begins to talk. At first, she can’t make out a single word. They’re spilling out so fast it almost sounds like a completely different language. Then he slows down and she starts picking out words. Gradually, she is able to put together what happened; or enough of what happened to understand how to help him.

  She gets down on the ground with him. She puts her tummy to his back and sort of curls around him. Kayla puts her mouth to his ear and coos softly to him. It really doesn’t matter what she says at this point; just that she makes comforting noises. She has no idea how long they lie spooning like that, but when he finally stirs and moves to get up, she gets cramps in her legs and it takes a minute for her to return to the couch to sit with him.

  One look at him tells her the emotional state he is in. He is just a ghost of his former self. His eyes have lost their ever-present emerald gleam. They look like a pair of burned-out orbs and he seems as if he has aged twenty years in the space of a few hours. Kayla can’t begin to imagine what he must be feeling now. She stares at him for a minute and then it clicks. She knows exactly what to do to make him feel human again. She gets up and stands in front of Luke, holding out her hands. For a minute, he just stares at her, but he finally puts his hands in hers. Kayla tugs at his hands and he rises. Walking backwards, she keeps her eyes riveted on his, unwilling to break contact for fear of losing him down that dark tunnel of despair. If that happens again, she is pretty certain she won’t be able to bring him back this time. She stops when they come to her bed and begins to undress him. Slowly and tenderly, almost like undressing a child. But by the time she has his shirt off and reaches for his belt something changes. She can feel him responding. His eyes finally focus to the moment and she can see his desire growing as much as hers. Her heart and breathing quicken, and her pupils dilate. She takes a tentative step towards him. Her lips are just inches from his. Kayla rests her hand on his belt buckle for a second and then slides it down to the beginnings of a bulge. She leans in for a kiss and at the same time strokes him until she can feel his rigid cock. Their mouths open and tongues entwine in passion. Kayla can feel bursts of warm air on her face from his nostrils.

  Now his hands are all over her; caressing, squeezing, tearing, pulling, and unbuttoning, until her clothes fall into a heap about their feet. Kayla drops to her knees fumbling with the buckle for a second. His pants fall to his knees and she’s pulling off his skin tight briefs down over his hips. She takes a deep breath inhaling his musky scent before she leans in and unleashes a level of passion and raw desire like she has never experienced before. Luke moans and cries out in unbridled ecstasy as he releases his seed thrusting his hips back and forth. With renewed energy and passion, Luke lifts Kayla up and literally throws her to the bed before he pounces like an enraged lion bent upon taking what is his. Kayla grabs his broad shoulders digging her nails in as she pulls him down to her. Luke barely notices as she rakes his flesh when he enters her and begins to hammer her into submission with his engorged member. Their lovemaking reaches the pinnacle of passion and an unbelievable tenderness, neither of them has ever experienced before, overwhelms them. They finally collapse in each other’s arms until sleep finds them both.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The Cold Harsh Reality

  “I’ve killed him, Kayla.”

  That single, simple statement wakes Kayla from a deep sleep and she knows immediately that Luke has returned to the precipice. Her mind scrambles as she tries to think of something to say that will bring him back from the edge of madness.

  “I know… You may have pulled the trigger, Luke, but you’re not the one responsible for his death and I think you know who is.”

  He raises himself up on one elbow and stares at her intently before finally answering.

  “Yeah… I do.”

  “Then you can go to the police and tel—"

  “No! That’s the last thing I can do. I don’t have any proof and I would just be putting the heat on myself. No… this has to be handled the Suicide Kings way; it’s the only way.


  “But… wouldn’t you like to put an end to the violence, Luke. You can make a difference in the club. Don’t let it be your father’s motorcycle club; make it your own.”

  Kayla has no idea where that just came from, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say at the moment.

  “Ah, but it is my father’s motorcycle club as long as he wears that president patch and I wear the vice president one.”

  “Can’t he be voted out or something?”

  “This isn’t exactly like a democracy, Kayla. He’s president until he quits in shame or dies either by his own hand or that of someone else’s. It’s blood in blood out, Kayla.”

  “So what are you going to do then?” Kayla asks, not really wanting to hear the answer.

  “He has to die.”

  It was a simple statement loaded with implications and Kayla has no doubt in her mind that he is planning his father’s death right now.

  “Do you really want your father’s blood on your hands, Luke?”

  “I can’t afford not to. Not everyone knows just how bad it is between my father and I, but those who really count do. The only way I can retain my VP patch is by revenge. People will see me as being weak if I take this lying down. No one wants a weak leader even if he is just the vice president. Others will move in to take me out so that the patch will go to a stronger, more deserving brother. Kayla, you have to look at the club like a…a…pride of lions. The minute the alpha male shows any weakness, the younger, stronger males kill him and one of them becomes the leader of the pride. Either I fight to become leader of this club or I quit or die by the hand of another brother. That’s the way it is and I have always known that, even as a boy.”

  Suddenly, a bout of the chills assaults Kayla and she pulls a blanket up over her body. She had hoped that what just happened would have been traumatic enough to get Luke to abandon the violent ways of the club and seek to change it for the better. Now he’s just back to the old Luke, only much more determined.

  “But it’s your father, Luke…”

  “Yes, he’s my father, but he was never a dad to me. Let me tell you another story about him.”

  His face takes on a hard expression as the memories flood his mind.

  “It was Christmas Eve and I was 9 years old. I was so excited that I couldn’t sleep. My father came by my room and saw the light was on. He burst in and found me reading a comic. He tore my comic in pieces and took my blankets away. I was left to sleep in a cold room without a cover. After a while, I started looking for something warmer to put on. My father heard me rustling around in the room, came in again and emptied my drawers. He made me lie down in my underpants. When I started crying and shivering from cold, he got furious.

  “You little baby!” he had said. “You can’t even stand a little cold.”

  “I hate you!” I had shrieked back.

  “How dare you talk to me like that, you little shit,” he had replied and I had really thought he was going to strike me again, but he only shouted, ‘Christmas is cancelled’ then. I had tried desperately to apologize to him and I promised to go to sleep at once, but that seemed to infuriate him even more. He marched me downstairs to the Christmas tree, opened every one of my presents and proceeded to smash them to pieces in front of me. He even forced me to clean up the mess and throw away every last remnant of my gifts. When my father wasn’t looking, I did manage to save one, though. I hid a tiny little Lego Mini pirate figure. It was the worst Christmas of my life.”

  Luke turns his gaze back to Kayla. “I still carry it around in my pocket. It reminds me of how much I hate my father. ”

  Kayla’s face is streaked with tears. “Why was your father so cruel to you? How could he do this to his own little boy?” she asks in a trembling voice.

  Oddly enough it’s Luke who comforts Kayla.

  “I’m used to it,” he explains. “I have lived with that memory for twenty-one years and it doesn’t bother me like it used to,” he lies. “But I can understand that it’s a bit of a shock for you.”

  “I will never get used to that,” Kayla declares. “Before today, I could not have imagined hating my father, but now…I understand. Your father is a beast. He’s inhuman…”

  Luke smirks. “You barely know him and already you declare him a beast. I’ve shared one or two stories with you and you hate him. Now you have a faint idea of how I feel about him.”

  “You never speak of your mother. What happened to her?”

  “She died when I was very young; I only remember a few things about her.”

  “I’m sorry, Luke…”

  “It’s okay.”

  “Did your father remarry?”

  “Yeah, but it lasted only 9 months and I couldn’t stand her either. Eventually, my father decided to give up on the institution of marriage and long term relationships and instead he just has lots of girlfriends who come and go.”

  “What about you? Has there ever been a girl you loved?”

  A curious thing happens. Kayla could have sworn he was about to say ‘you’, then he stops himself and just shakes his head. She’s about to pursue their current theme of love and relationships when he suddenly sits up and his face is all business.

  “Kayla, there’s some things I have to do now. I really can’t stay here any longer. Can I ask a favor of you?”

  Kayla’s heart sinks. It was nice while it lasted… “What do you need?” she asks.

  “I need a ride back to my house. My bike’s there and I need a fresh change of clothes and then I need to take care of club business.”

  “Sure, I’ll take you, but you can’t go out like that. You left a shirt here the other day. I’ll get it for you. That other stuff should be burned.”

  Ten minutes later, they’re both dressed and getting into her car. Luke is silent and refuses to be drawn into conversation the whole time. Kayla gets the idea that he is steeling himself for the next days ahead when he has to deal with his father and other club business. No wonder he’s in no mood to chat if he’s thinking about killing his father. Kayla drops him off at his house in Oakland and they say a brief goodbye. Luke has returned to his normal Suicide Kings biker self and her… Well, it’s time to get some real rest before she has to go on shift tonight at the hospital.

  Chapter Nineteen

  What Luke Does

  After Kayla drops Luke off at his house, confusion reigns over him. Their lovemaking was amazing. He felt things he’d only dreamed possible and for the first time he truly cares about a woman. He wants to know how she feels and what she thinks of him. That is really weird because Luke has always prided himself in the fact that he could give a shit what anyone else thinks about him, least of all a woman. So how did this one get under his skin, and how’d she manage to burrow so damn deep? He also realizes that this is not a good time to be feeling this way. He stands up and begins pacing back and forth across the living room.

  “Focus…focus…”

  And then it comes back. The burning rage that keeps Luke focused and on task and that laser focus is aimed squarely on his father’s forehead. No one is going to derail him now; not even Kayla.

  Tonight is poker night at his father’s house and a number of the older brothers that are loyal to his father will be there. They’ll be drinking and betting and the last thing they’ll be focused on is security. If there ever was a time to do this, it’s tonight. All he needs is a few brothers that were close to Carter. They’ll be up for anything as long as it means getting revenge for Carter’s murder and it is common knowledge that Luke’s father set him up. After tonight, Luke will regain control as the club’s president. He’ll have to pick a new VP, a new Sergeant at Arms, and a new Secretary. Those last two positions are held by his father’s most loyal brothers and they’ll be at the poker game.

  As Luke gathers his weapons of choice and makes the calls, he finds himself constantly reminded of Kayla. She will not condone what will happen tonight and that actually bothers him. She is
strong-willed and refuses to change her point of view. She has taken a stand and no one can make her compromise her principles. He admires that on her.

  By 9:45 his most loyal brothers are gathered around the table looking at a diagram of his father’s house. Using chess pieces Luke shows each brother where he will wait. When Luke gives the signal, they will breach and attack. Tonight’s players are Don, Mitchell, LJ, and Stephen, Ryan, and Corey. Not a lot, but with the right weapons and the element of surprise, seven is all they need. Each brother is carrying a silenced 9mm and Luke has his H&K as well as his Mossberg in case things go bad. LJ has the other shotgun but has strict rules about using it. Luke wants to keep the attack as quiet as possible and then sneak out and rendezvous back at Luke’s house at midnight.

  At 10:30 everybody is in position. Each brother is carrying a cell phone and at the precise moment Luke will send out a simultaneous message. The instant the buzz happens each person will open fire from their location. In the space of five to ten seconds everyone sitting at that poker table will be dead; end of story.

  Luke takes a deep breath, and pulls his phone out of his pocket. He’s just about to start typing when he hears a soft pop, pop, pop followed by breaking glass.

  “What the hell?” Luke hisses under his breath.

  Luke is positioned at the back door in case someone tries to run for it. From his position he can’t see what is happening but he can hear. Soon after the silenced shots from one of his guys start, he hears the heavier, loud cracking rounds from un-silenced weapons, and more breaking glass. Almost immediately, he hears a scream that is cut short by another round of fire. Luke does something he never does. He abandons his post to try to find out what’s going on and where he is needed the most. Turns out that was a very bad move. Right after he leaves and goes around the corner of the house, three armed brothers come out the back door and go around the other side of the house where they ambush Don and Ryan. They go down instantly in a hail of bullets. Not ten seconds after the initial shots by one of his team, there is chaos everywhere. There are fifteen to twenty armed bikers running around in the dark, trying to determine what’s going on. Are they being raided by the police, or attacked by the Harbingers. It doesn’t take Gunnar long to figure out that the attackers, at least some of them are Kings. That causes the bad situation to become an epic fail; a complete clusterfuck!

 

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