RESILIENCE (Resilient Saga Book 1)
Page 19
Back to the details. The mirror on the back of the bar has a few glass shelves crowded with bottles; some of them are dirty and almost empty, others haven’t been opened yet and they sport a layer of dust. The mirror allows me to observe without moving an inch, from the guys playing pool to the ones sitting at a table, drinking, while half-naked women sit on their laps patiently waiting for the men to decide what they want next. That’s what they must do if they want to become someone’s ‘old lady’ and stop being shared among all of them. Sometimes that never happens, and they are stuck with being ‘house mice’ and confined to clean the bar after everyone else leaves. I never understood why this kind of people are allowed around here. But then again, I guess I never really thought it through. I mean, free pussy and clean shit for zero dollars— that’s actually pretty good. Something that’s not clear to me though, is: why would people wanna become a gang member? Some may say it’s because they’re outcasts, villains or just broken people who happened to find some kind of shelter where they can relate to someone else who’s in the same situation. Perhaps broken and lost souls fit together, somehow. But if you ask me, I’d say they are all a bunch of morons. I’m the most fucked up, broken, traumatized piece of shit of a human being that you might ever meet, and yet I don’t have my head up my ass, I stay away from other people’s life and that’s advice for you as well. Stay the fuck out of other people’s lives… Unless of course someone’s paying you good money to get involved.
What? Don’t judge me. A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. You know, to survive.
I take the shot of vodka that was poured for me and slam the glass against the wooden counter. Another guy working the bar fills it right back. The minutes go by and I’m still here, waiting for what I’ve come here for.
I sigh and check my watch. It’s almost four. I’ve been here for more than an hour and my strategy isn’t paying off. I guess trying to collect intel is harder than what Bruno makes it sound. I take the last shot of the night, drop a few bills to cover the drinks plus a nice tip —it may be a shithole, but the service isn’t bad. I stand up and stretch my back. At that moment, the front door opens and the guys who were at the door help another ‘patch’ walk in. At first, I think that he might be just drunk; then I see his mug, his mouth is bloody, and he’s limping on his right side, meaning his left leg is not good. So far, nothing out of the ordinary for a biker bar, but then I notice Bad Blood turns his head and sees this guy. The second he makes eye contact, his facial expression starts to change. He stands up and walks into a back room with a ‘Private’ sign hung at the door; the rest follows him.
Bingo…
CHAPTER 27
BRUNO
Idare not look at her. It’s too soon. I’m still agitated, quietly gasping for air. I want this moment to last as much as it can. I don’t want to go back to reality, where Leon is out there posing a threat like never before, waiting for another opportunity to have a go at us, just like they did at the funeral service— that’s fucked up. Then again, what’s more fucked up than this? I went from torturer to lover in less than a year. Now, that’s fucked up. But nothing really matters to me when I’m with her. I want to be with her, to feel and protect her.
Being inside of her was the best feeling ever. Period.
I always knew it; Sarah’s going to be the death of me.
Her arms around my neck help me stay in this fantasy, where the only thing that matters is that our bodies are naked together. Oh, God, I wanted her so badly— I still do. Once I woke and felt her skin against mine, I couldn’t handle it; and for that, I’m an idiot.
I move away my sweaty forehead from her neck and look for her eyes. I find some things I’ve never seen before on that face of hers.
Peace.
Happiness.
Love.
“Are you okay over there?” I ask with the softest tone I can summon, and I kiss her shoulder.
“More than okay,” she replies.
“This was incredible,” I say while pulling out of her, despite all my senses telling me not to. I roll to her side and run my arm behind her neck. She turns towards me and starts caressing my chest. This is perfect. I’d love to be able to stop time and freeze it in this very moment.
“How much longer until dawn? I don’t think I can move.” A yawn follows that question, making her look cute as fuck and stealing a smile from me. I wish my life would be filled with little moments like this one, every day— of course, with her by my side.
“Let’s try to get some rest.” I take her hand.
“We tried that, look where it got us,” she jokes. I chuckle.
“Let’s try really hard this time.” We interlock fingers, which I’ve started to love recently, because of her. I like to think that it’s a sign of peace and unity between us.
She falls asleep rather quickly, I can hear her breathing. I’m still gathering my thoughts and hoping I can also dream about her, a dream where she’s mine and we meet in a different situation, without any kind of prejudice or a tormented past. No drastic accident or event in both our lives that needs revenge. A perfect dream, where we can be together and live happily ever after. Thinking about that dream actually starts to take a toll on my mind, and with my already tired body I start to doze off. It feels like a high —a good high. Everything with her is just better. My eyes start to feel heavy and I close them.
The room is dark and quiet.
I’m falling asleep.
RIIIIIIIINGGGG!
The room phone starts ringing.
I open my eyes instantly.
My heart pounds.
Sarah sleeps.
I pick her up and start to make my way towards the bathroom.
RIIIIIIIIN— BOOOM!
CHAPTER 28
CARTER
After the Private door closes, I think, This is interesting, and start walking outside. There’s nobody in sight at the lot. Why would anybody be out here? It’s 4.15 a.m. I go around the back and notice there’s a guy in a motel shirt, rapidly smoking a cigarette. He’s probably just sneaking a smoke during his work hours. He hears someone calling his name, tosses the cig to the ground, exhales the smoke from his lungs, waves his hands in front of him to disperse it, pulls what looks like an Altoid can and takes a mint out of it, puts it in his mouth, straightens his shirt and walks through the door in a rush. Lucky for me, he didn’t have time to check if the door closed correctly.
That’s my way in.
I slowly walk inside and take a left, passing under a chain with a sign that reads ‘Keep out.’ This hallway takes me to a room that looks like a closet with a ventilation grate on the bottom left side of the wall. On the other side I can hear voices. I only recognize Bad Blood’s.
“You piece of shit. How could you miss the target? You had him right there,” he says.
“I… I’m sorry prez… He was too quick…” I hear someone say in a muffled voice. That’s probably the limping guy.
“Sorry? You’re not sorry. At least, not yet.” Bad Blood’s voice starts to sound aggravated.
“I can still finish the job.”
“You can’t and won’t do shit. Your leg is busted, and you already got one of ours killed. You should’ve died there, instead of coming all the way back here. You don’t deserve to wear this fucking patch.” Woah, that’s harsh. If he loses his patch, that will mean one thing, and one thing only —death. Nobody ‘stops’ being a Devil’s Head and gets to get on with their life. For them, this is the only life. Anybody who wants out, dies.
This Bad Blood guy is the real deal. There’s a rumor surrounding him: that he killed his own father to become the president of the MC. They also say he’s a lunatic with an unquenchable blood thirst.
A cellphone rings. Bad Blood picks up the call. “Yeah, he’s back.” The clamshell closes.
A few minutes later, I hear a knock. They open the door and someone walks in. “Leave us,” Bad Blood says, and I hear a lot of footsteps leaving the room.
“So… this is your failure. Why is he still alive?” A voice with a heavy Middle Eastern accent asks.
“He just got here, and I was dealing with it.” Bad Blood’s tone changed, it’s not authoritative anymore.
Who is this guy?
“Dealing with it? Just like you said you would deal with my problem? Huh?” The unknown voice says.
“I’m sorry, Leon. I already have two of my best men on it. We know where they are and we’re about to finish this.”
Holy shit! Leon! I crouch and try to spy though the grate. I can see them both standing in front of the limp guy.
“You know I don’t reward failure and I also don’t like weakness. Show me you can handle this,” Leon says.
“You mean, this piece of shit?” He says while looking down at limp guy. “Oh, don’t worry. He’s going to atone for his failures.”
“Atone? One doesn’t simply atone after failing like this,” Leon says while pulling a nine-millimeter out of his jacket. In the same motion, he shoots limp guy once in the head.
This dude is insane. He just killed a patch in front of his prez. Shit is about to go down.
“Don’t fail me again, or you’ll be the one catching my next bullet,” Leon says, and then walks away. Two other MC members walk in after.
This is surreal. Bad Blood is breathing heavily. I can see his chest going up and down fast. I just learned two important things.
Jorge was telling the truth, about the hardware he sold to Leon. And Leon is crazier than we thought. Bad Blood didn’t flinch after he killed a patch member in front of him. I gotta tell Bruno about this. I grab my phone and dial Bruno’s.
It’s ringing.
Come on cuz, pick up.
“Get someone to clean this up and get a hold of Chop. I want to know what’s going on over there,” Bad Blood says.
I dial Bruno’s again.
It’s ringing.
What’s taking you so long…
I hear the chain behind me move slightly.
Fuck, someone’s on to me.
I turn around and everything turns black.
CHAPTER 29
BRUNO
My eyes are open, but I can barely see anything. My ears are intact, but I can only hear a constant ringing noise. My legs are responsive, but I can’t stand still. All of it is to be expected after an explosion.
Wait, an explosion?
Fuck.
Where’s Sarah? I turn to my right. There she is, in the tub. She looks frightened.
Right, explosion.
Focus, Bruno. I signal her to stay down and quiet.
Someone’s coming, I can hear the heavy steps.
Good fucking timing to be naked.
I’m waiting for him in the bathroom. I see his weapon coming forward. I duck and sprint towards the door. I push my body against his torso. He can’t shoot me like this.
“AAAAHHHH!” I yell while pushing him towards the wall. We hit it. Correction— he hits it. I throw a right hook that connects my knuckles with his face. I dodge his left hand and throw my knee against his ribcage. Oh, sweet muay thai, I think after that knee hit. He bends to his knees after that.
I gotcha, you son of a bitch.
Before I can throw a knockout blow at him, a round snaps next to my right ear and hits the wall.
There’s two of these assholes?
I jump to my right and take cover behind the bed. He keeps firing at me. I grab the bedside lamp and throw it at him. He dodges while still shooting, I hear a click.
He’s fucking empty.
I grab my sidearm, cock it and aim, ready to fire. The first guy grabs me from behind and tries to pull me down; I fight him, throwing elbow hits to his already damaged ribcage. He can’t hold on to me, he loses grip. I turn around, he kicks my weapon-holding hand. The gun flies out of my hand. I heel kick him in the solar plexus, leaving him gasping for air.
A chair breaks on my back.
Guy number two makes sure I feel that one. He’s going to regret that. I guess I should be thankful he didn’t reload his weapon. He picks up one of the chair legs. He swings once, I dodge. Twice, I deflect with my forearm and kick him in the nads. I step back and circle behind him, waiting for the pain to sink in. His legs are shaky; he bends a little. I run forward ready to kick this bearded motherfucker in the face. I trip with the rubble that not so long ago was a wall. I lose balance and he punches me in the face.
“You punch like a kid,” I say, smiling.
“You kick like a girl.”
“How do your nuts feel about that?” He looks pissed.
Bearded guy screams and lunges at me using the same technique I used with his buddy a minute ago, only this time there’s no wall to stop us. We hit the rail and go over it. We fall one story down to the ground level. Landing on a car roof is not pleasant at all. We both grunt in pain. I grab him and take it down to the asphalt. I deliver three punches to his face, before hearing a car door opening.
Shit. Another one?
“What the hell are you doing? We need to bounce!” A trembling voice says. I look up and I see a young man, scared shitless, standing next to the driver’s door of a van.
“Shut up and help me!” Bearded guy says while hitting me in the mug. I lose balance and he’s on top of me now. I really should put an end to this.
“I can’t. I mean, how!? What do you want me to do!?” The scared driver yells.
I’m done listening to these two.
I dodge his next punch, push him sideways, go on my knees, grab his neck and snap it.
One down, two to go.
Sarah.
I look up towards the room and see guy number one pointing his gun at me.
“Come on, shoot him already!” The driver says.
“Leon says hi.”
BANG! BANG! BANG!
I hear three shots. I can’t feel any pain, but that could be the adrenaline. I look down to check myself. I find no wounds. I look up again. Guy number one falls over the rail. Behind him, Sarah’s standing with my gun.
Sarah’s naked, shaky and crying.
She’s looking down, but I can’t tell if she’s looking at me or the body of the man she just shot. That doubt quickly dissipates— she has a horrified expression on her face. She just realized someone is dead for something she did.
“Fuck this shit!” The driver jumps back in the van and drives away.
I run upstairs to Sarah.
“Babe, give me the gun,” I say calmly. She shakes her head. “Come on, babe. Hand over the gun.” She raises the gun and points it at me. “Sarah, it’s me. Put the gun down.”
“Bruno?” She asks confused.
“Yes, it’s me. You can relax now.” She looks back at the gun and throws it as if it’s made of fire.
“What have I done?” She says.
“Come here.” She throws herself into my arms for the first time. She holds me tight and cries like never before. “Easy, it’s all over. You were brave. I’m proud of you. If it weren’t for you, I could be dead.”
“I saw him get up. He picked up his gun and walked towards the door. I knew he was going to shoot you, but I… I couldn’t let him do that.” She tries to explain while still sobbing.
“Thank you. Even though I specifically told you to stay put and quiet.”
“If it weren’t for my rebellious nature, you’d be dead, and I’d be…” That phrase started with a joking tone and ended with a grim one.
“That didn’t happen. Get dressed, we need to disappear from here fast before the cops arrive.”
She nods and starts to get dressed. I realize I’m fucked up when I start to pick up our stuff —my body’s in a lot of pain.
“Ready, babe?” She nods once again, takes my hand and says,
“Let’s get out of here.”
CHAPTER 30
SARAH
We’re riding back to Bruno’s. The atmosphere is horrible— silent and cold. All the magic, the good vibes a
nd the pleasure from last night went overboard. It seems like we aren’t allowed to have a good time, that having it was a big ass mistake. I didn’t want to believe it, but after seeing what was left of the motel room in the rearview mirror… well, that was pretty fucking convincing. At first, I thought I was in heaven, floating, happy and relaxed. Then, the explosion happened. If it weren’t for Bruno’s quick reflexes and actions, we would’ve been killed.
Man, we really can’t catch a break.
A lot has happened in last 24 hours.
I’ve been held hostage, had sex with Bruno, some people tried to kill us, and… I killed a man. Yes. Me. Sarah Fitcher killed a man in cold blood. I didn’t even know the man five minutes before I pulled the trigger. Not his name or his background. Did he have a wife, kids? What I do know is that I shot him in the back. He was about to shoot Bruno and I couldn’t let that happen. The bare thought of losing him too drove me crazy. I don’t know what I’d do without him.
I’m aware that everything went sideways because of me and my stupid feelings. If I had done as he commanded, this would’ve been avoided. But no, I had to go out of my way and approach my mother’s grave and fuck this all up.
“Here, put this on your eye,” I say and throw a bag of frozen beans from the freezer.
“I’m okay, I just need a moment.” Tough as usual.
“What you need is ice on that pretty face of yours. And a shower.”