CONVICT’S BABY: Black Dogs MC

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CONVICT’S BABY: Black Dogs MC Page 37

by Parker, Zoey


  Max hung up the call and gazed in stunned disbelief at his cell phone. Brittany knew about the guy who’d been burned with acid by his pack members. If it was her brother’s friend who’d been attacked, as Max suspected, then it meant that Brittany’s brother had an axe to grind and a score to settle.

  “Enjoying the fresh air?” Henry stormed out through the door of the bar, already unsteady on his feet.

  Max shot his parked motorcycle a longing glance. If only he’d been swifter, he could already be on the road and en route to Brittany. But she’d asked for time, and he knew he had to give that to her, even if it was the one thing he'd been running out of.

  “What time is everyone making their move?” Max nodded towards the packed-out bar behind them.

  “Soon,” Henry raised his eyebrows and leaned back against the wall to steady himself. “Everyone in there is fixing for a fight. Things are going to get real ugly in Colridge.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Your girl still there?”

  “No.” Max felt his shoulders slump. He should have been the one to get her out, to keep her safe. Jealousy burned through him when he thought of her brother trying to act the part of her saviour.

  “That’s good,” Henry patted Max on the back and smiled. “Best keep her out of it.”

  “Her brother pulled her out of Colridge.” Max knew that Henry couldn’t truly be trusted, but the words were tumbling out of his mouth before he could even stop them. He was still mildly sedated and struggling to keep his thoughts in his head where they belonged.

  “He did?” Henry became alert with interest, his previous drunkenness seemingly forgotten.

  “Yeah,” Max kicked at a stone and watched it skitter across the parking lot towards the row of bikes parked up side by side like children, patiently waiting in a tidy line.

  “Do you - ” Max sighed, wondering if Henry had been the one to pour acid on that poor Red Riders member’s face. “ – do you remember, a while back, someone poured acid on a Red Riders members face, scarred him up real good.”

  “I remember,” Henry’s expression was surprisingly grim. “What makes you bring that up?”

  “I think that Br- my girl’s brother knows the guy.”

  “Shit,” Henry gave a low, ominous whistle. “If someone had done that to my friend, I’d be looking to take lives tonight.”

  “You think?”

  “Explains why he got his little sister the hell out of Colridge.”

  Max tried to swallow past the lump, which had formed in his throat. Henry was saying everything that Max feared. Brittany’s brother was surely going to lead the Red Riders to Colridge to meet the Kings head on. It would be a bloodbath, and only one pack would be left standing at the end of it all.

  “I guess tonight we settle things between us once and for all,” Henry shrugged casually as though he didn’t care whether he lived or died.

  “Yeah,” Max agreed with a tense sigh, “I guess we do.”

  Chapter Seventy-Nine

  Zack dropped the six-pack of bottled beer onto the checkout counter and wrestled his twenty dollar bill from his pocket. The store was quiet. Almost all of the aisles were empty, as Zack swiftly made his way to the fridge section for his beer. His nerves jangled inside him like loose change. He knew what was coming, what was expected of him.

  He’d sent word to his pack about the movements in Colridge, about what he knew regarding Brittany’s boyfriend. They were understandably furious and the orders he'd gotten were simple –

  Kill them all.

  Later, under the cover of darkness, he’d ride back to Colridge with both Jameson and all his Red Riders brothers by his side. There, on the streets of the small town they’d face off with their nemesis, the Skeleton Kings, for the final fucking time.

  Thinking about Brittany being with a Skeleton Kings member, left a bad taste in Zack’s mouth which he knew no amount of beer would be able to wash away. His little sister had been sleeping with the enemy, literally. He’d always thought she was such a good girl, so quiet and timid, yet the moment he’d given her an inch of freedom, she’d run with it and taken a mile.

  Beers in hand, Zack strode out to the parking lot towards his motorcycle. His heart was already racing as he tried to visualize what would happen later. He’d have to remember to take a crowbar with him, maybe a hammer. Who knew what weapon Jameson would have on hand. He probably had a vat of acid stored somewhere, specifically for this occasion.

  Zack secured his beer to the back of his bike and swung himself into his seat. Running a hand down his face, he tried to block out the memories from that awful night when Jameson had been attacked. How his friend had pierced the cold night with his high-pitched screams. His skin had all but completely melted away. The air smelt putrid like cooked flesh. It was a smell that would never truly be gone from Zack’s memory, no matter how much time passed.

  Kill them all.

  He hated the Skeleton Kings gang as much as he hated the drunk driver who’d killed his parents. All of his anger and frustration, over the hand life had dealt him, had been directed towards the rival gang, growing stronger every year. And now, all that hate was about to be released. Zack was almost excited at the prospect of finally experiencing such a release, but he was also fearful. If his orders had been to kill them all, surely the Kings had received a similar directive. And in such a battle there could only be one victor. What if all Zack achieved was robbing Brittany of both her brother and her lover?

  Clenching his jaw, he kicked his bike to life and roared off into the night.

  Chapter Eighty

  Max had a plan. It was a flimsy one he had to admit, but it was all he had. It came to him as he stood outside the bar talking with Henry. He thought of Brittany held under lock and key by her brother. Max thought that if given the chance, couldn’t he talk to her brother, come to some sort of truce? After all, they had shared a common ground for their love of Brittany; they both wanted what was best for her.

  “What if I could stop all this?” Max wondered aloud. Henry cocked his head at him in confusion.

  “Stop the fight tonight?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You can’t stop it,” Henry shook his head wistfully.

  “Why not?”

  “You think this is all about you? And your girl? And her brother? It’s not. This is bigger than us, Max. It always has been. Old grudges go deep, really deep. You ever wondered why Alex hates the Red Riders like he does, or why that little punk got acid thrown all over him? Things between the two gangs will never, ever be resolved.”

  Max was surprised by Henry’s insight but couldn’t disagree with him. He was right – the two gangs were hardly going to shake hands and let bygones be bygones. The hate between the two factions would always burn poker hot, no matter what happened.

  “Maybe so, but if I could at least stop tonight - ”

  “Tonight is already in motion,” Henry interjected. “To stop it now would be like standing in front of a freight train. All that will happen is that you’ll get yourself killed.”

  “I fear that we are all just sleepwalking to our deaths,” Max looked up at the darkening sky. He was running out of time.

  “Isn’t everyone?” Henry shrugged and raked a hand through his golden hair. “If we don’t die this night, we’ll die another one. As is the predicament of being alive.”

  “But don’t you want your death to mean something?”

  “Death never means anything,” Henry declared, his gaze hardening. “It is always just an end. There is no meaning in that.”

  Max was starting to feel desperate. He couldn’t let the streets of Colridge run red with blood, even if the feud was bigger than him.

  “I can’t just stand by and let everyone get hurt.”

  “The way I see it, you got two choices,” Henry reached into his pocket for a pack of cigarettes. He plucked one out and placed it between his fingers, elegantly guiding it up to his lips.

  “
You can either fight with us tonight,” he lit the cigarette and took a deep drag on it, smiling in satisfaction.

  “Or?” Max prompted him for his second choice.

  “Or, you can go get your girl, and get the hell out of town. Like I suggested earlier. Yet here you still remain.”

  “She won’t leave without her brother,” Max sighed, “especially now she knows that he’s a part of all this.”

  “Quite the predicament,” Henry blew smoke into the air, letting it billow above him like a dark cloud.

  “I have to make her leave with me, don’t I?” Max looked desperately at his pack mate, yearning for some direction.

  “Yes, you do,” Henry nodded solemnly. “And you need to do it fast, because if Alex catches wind that you’re even thinking of leaving tonight, then you’re already a dead man.”

  Chapter Eighty-One

  Zack kicked open the unlocked front door and quickly located Jameson, who was stretched out across the sofa watching some porn. Two naked women with epic breasts were fondling each other as they kissed with excessive amounts of tongue.

  “Hey,” he hurried over and grabbed the remote, plunging the screen into darkness.

  “I was watching that,” Jameson objected, screwing up the good half of his face in annoyance.

  “Not with my sister here you’re not,” Zack glared at him. “Show some respect.” He stormed over to the refrigerator and placed the pack of beers he was holding inside.

  “She’s in her room,” Jameson shrugged. “And it’s not as if she’s coming out here to keep me company.”

  Zack almost wished that his sister would get involved with Jameson. It would be a vast improvement on her current choice of boyfriend. At least being with Jameson wouldn’t be like signing her own death warrant.

  “Beer?” Zack asked as he leaned into the cool interior.

  “Sure.” Jameson straightened up and raised a hand in readiness for his beverage. “What time we ride?” he asked as Zack handed him a bottle.

  “Soon,” Zack realized. Outside it was already getting dark, soon the Kings would be assembling out on the streets, their bikes roaring loudly like some sort of ancient dinosaur.

  “Well, I’m more than ready,” Jameson grinned. “Those shit heads are about to learn that payback can be a bitch.”

  But Zack wasn’t listening. He was stalking down the hallway towards Brittany’s bedroom. He swung open her flimsy door without pausing to knock. The room was shrouded in shadow, but he could see his sister sat on the bed, her knees pressed to her chest. He flicked on the light and she squinted up at him in the sudden brightness.

  “Don’t just sit here in the dark,” he told her. “Come have a beer with us.”

  “I’m okay, thanks,” she answered curtly, her tone as hard as flint.

  “Look, Brittany, I know I said you have to stay here, but it’s for your own good. You can’t be mad at me about that.”

  “I’m not mad at you about that,” she replied flatly.

  “Oh,” Zack straightened in surprise. “Well then…that’s good. But seriously, don’t just sit here all alone all night.”

  “Are you going out later?” she cocked her head at him as she asked the question. “Do you need to work?” she emphasised the last word in a strange way.

  “Yeah,” Zack shrugged, trying to look casual. “I’ve got to head to work in a bit. So what?”

  “Nothing,” Brittany narrowed her eyes at him. “Nothing at all.”

  Chapter Eighty-Two

  “Go now,” Henry urged, looking back towards the bar. The tumbled together sounds of the rowdy occupants stole out towards them.

  Max felt taut with adrenaline, which surged through his body. If he turned his back on the Skeleton Kings now, he could never come back. He’d be an outcast for the rest of his life.

  “Is she worth losing all this?” Henry asked, limply gesturing towards the bar.

  “Yes,” Max answered without missing a beat.

  “Well, there you go. What are you waiting for?”

  Still Max hesitated. He stared at Henry, weighing whether he could trust him.

  “I’ll say I know nothing,” Henry held his hands up defensively.

  “Why are you even helping me?” Max wondered, cocking his head to the side.

  “Because,” Henry sighed heavily and his shoulders slumped. “You’ve got something to live for, something beyond the gang. Me? I’ve never had that. I’ve only ever been about the pack, there isn’t enough room in my life for anything else. I’d gladly die for these assholes, would you?”

  Max was silent.

  “Exactly,” Henry raised his eyebrows. “And honestly Max, I don’t want someone out there fighting with me who isn’t completely committed.”

  Max nodded softly, understanding where Henry was coming from.

  “So go,” Henry prompted again, pointing towards where the motorcycles stood. “Go save your girl and ride off into the sunset together.”

  Max felt torn. He looked back at the bar, his sanctuary, the place his Uncle Alex took him into all those years ago when he had nothing and no one.

  “You think because he saved you that you owe him your entire life?” Henry asked, as though reading his mind at that exact moment. “That’s how we all feel, Max. But that’s not normal, is it? Alex, he plucks us out of obscurity and seemingly saves us, but always to meet his own needs. It’s never the selfless act it appears to be.”

  Max was stunned by Henry’s brutally honest assessment of life within the gang. And it pained him to acknowledge how true the other man’s words were. Why had his Uncle not intervened with Max sooner? Why let him live rough on the streets for a few years? It was because Alex wanted to see if he was tough enough, wanted him to see how bad things could get before he bothered to extend the olive branch. Alex had willingly let Max suffer as a teenager just to ensure that he’d make a decent member.

  “You’re right,” Max felt steeled with decisiveness as he strode over towards his bike. He was ready to leave Alex and the Skeleton Kings behind him and move on with the next chapter of his life. Brittany, she was it.

  “Ride hard and fast,” Henry advised with a wry smile. “And don’t bother checking over your shoulder, because we’ll never be there.”

  “How can I be sure of that?”

  “You’re just going to have to take my word for it.” Henry grinned around the cigarette which was clamped between his teeth.

  Chapter Eighty-Three

  “Brittany,” Zack gave an exasperated sigh. “I really don’t have time for this.”

  There was so much Brittany wanted to say. She wanted to scream at her brother and demand to know how he could be part of a violent motorcycle gang. She wanted to voice her bitter disappointment towards him, to cry. But instead she was stoic. As much as she wanted to convince him to change his ways, to denounce his pack, she knew she couldn’t do that alone. She’d need Max’ help. So her first priority was stealing away from the house without Zack knowing. Outside it was almost dark, she knew that she didn’t have much time.

  “I’m just tired,” she said with an apologetic shrug. “I need some sleep, that’s all.”

  “Women and their goddamn moods,” Zack was shaking his head as he backed out of the door and trudged back down the hallway, satisfied with her explanation.

  When Brittany was quite certain that he was gone and out of earshot, she stood up on her bed and carefully slid open her bedroom window. Cool air rushed into the room and ran goose bumps down her skin. Once the window was open as wide as it would, go she moved towards her bedroom door and listened. She could hear the faint moaning of women who sounded like they were being pleasured. Brittany frowned, wondering where the sound was coming from but she didn’t have time to dwell on it. She reached for her rucksack and began shoving in a few essential items.

  Chapter Eighty-Four

  When Zack returned to the sofa, Jameson was once again watching his porn, but this time he didn’t object
. He dropped down beside his friend and watched the two attractive women pleasure one another. He felt his body start to respond appropriately and he was grateful for the distraction. If he was getting aroused and jerking off, then he wasn’t thinking about the upcoming fight, wasn't thinking about all the possible outcomes in this situation.

  “I need the distraction,” Jameson said tightly as if sensing what Zack was thinking.

  “I get that,” Zack nodded. Jameson, more than anyone, knew first hand just how brutal the Kings could be. In the glow of the television, his scars looked like an alien landscape stretched tightly across his face. Zack wondered if his friend’s wounds still caused him pain, but he never dared to ask. Most of the time they just pretended it had never happened, which was easier than addressing it.

 

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