by Marata Eros
He winks, and we walk out the front door.
The prospects will erase our presence. We've trained them how. We left a DNA trail that couldn't be missed; it's a mile wide.
Fire cleanses everything.
I'm already apologizing to Shannon. But some things can't be helped.
Like the Bloods and their interest in my property. And what my property loves.
They'll fucking pay.
Come to think of it, they already have. I'm just calling their debt due.
*
“They'll expect retaliation.” Viper's voice is a dull flat sound like words dropping in a hollow bucket.
“We don't want war, Viper,” Noose says, “but they drew first blood.”
“Like Rambo,” Trainer says, eyebrows popping high.
We both look at him across the table of emergency church. “Just saying.”
“Don't,” I seethe.
“Your girl is safe at Noose's, true?”
We nod.
“You just got a text from Rose?” Viper says, part in question. “Shannon might have decided she wasn't wanting to be your girl, but your girl's safe. Got to prioritize. Her safe is better than anything I can think of.” His near-translucent gaze turns to me, “But her mom isn't a club priority.”
“I've thrown down for her,” I comment, rock solid.
Viper nods. “Miracles never cease. But you need to see it from my perspective. Gotta ton of reluctant fucking property lately. Got Noose's girl—Rose—did everything but hang a sign around her neck that said fuck off.” A bark of laughter breaks loose. “Clearly, Noose didn't.” His clear pool water gaze pegs Noose, and he ducks his head. “Then we have my sergeant-at-arms chasing sissy around—”
Snare stands, and Viper puts up a palm, snickering. “Sorry, Snare. Sometimes you grab humor where it presents itself. I know you guys aren't actually related anymore.”
“Because mother fucking Riker is dead,” Snare says slowly at our Road Kill Prez, like his cheese just slid off his cracker. Then Snare adds, “Thank fuck.”
Viper leans back. “Now we've got yet another potential old lady that somehow”—his astute gaze crawls over my face—“manages to live in the middle of gangland.” He throws his hands up and slams his palms flat on the table.
None of us jump.
He glares at Noose and me. “And you had the two prospects torch a house after you cleaned a couple of Bloods—who will be missed at some point. And believe me, Lopez will not buy into it being an accidental blaze. Not that I mind two less Bloods. It's timing, gentlemen.”
“Fire seemed simpler in the end,” Noose explains in a vacant voice.
Viper glowers at the fifteen faces around the long rectangular slab of wood that serves as our meeting place. His steely gaze never leaves me. “Fuck it. Find out if Shannon will be your property. I can't give club support behind an unwilling female. I just can't. If the Bloods had Shannon”—Viper spreads his hands—“I'd take the risk for potential property of a brother. But for the almost-dead, arthritic mom?” He exhales roughly. “It's cowardly as fuck those Bloods would take a sick old lady as bait and hostage fodder, but that's what separates us from them. We're unwilling to exploit those who are defenseless—and they are. We can't save every hard-luck case. Even if she deserves to be saved.”
All eyes go to Noose as he leans forward suddenly, a lit cell in his hand.
“What?” I ask, knowing it's bad from the absolutely blank expression on his face.
“Rose isn't answering my text.”
“Maybe Aria's going down for a nap?” I hate the hope in my tone.
“Nah,” Trainer says, leaning back in his chair, “probably took one of those blast-it-out-the-back-of-the-diaper shits. Rose is busy on clean-up duty, I bet.” He smirks.
Noose gives him a murderous look, and his face falls.
“Fuck, just a joke, man,” Trainer mutters, throwing his palms up.
Noose flips him off then says to the room of brothers, “Don't like it.”
Snare's eyebrow hikes. “She good about getting back?”
Noose's nod is thoughtful. He looks at the prospect pair who remain. Storm and the other nameless guy are busy setting Shannon's house on fire. She's going to hate me.
I turn to Noose. “You got security up the keister at your place.”
Noose nods. “It's only as good as the door. If anyone—” Noose tears the tie out of his hair and snaps the elastic ring between his fingers like a rubber band.
An uneasy, bloated silence fills the space where we breathe. I'm suddenly fighting for oxygen as different scenarios fill my already-crowded head.
“Meeting adjourned.” Viper hits the gavel to the circular wood placard. The look he gives me is iron compassion. “Find out.” He points at me then swings his finger at Noose. “Go figure out why your old lady isn't getting back with you.”
“It's probably nothing.” Noose shrugs, every bit of him on edge.
Lariat, the quietest of us all, pipes up for the first time. “She was at the condo, right? When she texted they got home.”
Noose nods.
Lariat keeps his dark eyes on Noose. “You got a feeling?”
Noose nods again, hands clenching into fists. “Yup.”
Lariat shrugs. “Good enough for me.”
My heartbeats tick faster. Shannon's with Rose and Aria. I’ve got to believe Noose is being overprotective and freaking out about nothing.
But our experience wasn't like that in the sandbox. His Spidey sense was damn unnerving. The skill saved our fucking asses.
Viper comes up to me and Noose and grabs us around the necks, though we kind of dwarf him. “Listen, you Nancys, go check on the women. Get shit figured out. Then call me. No texting bullshit—can't figure that tech out. We'll go from there. We finally got shit settled with Chaos. An uneasy truce is better than no truce.”
Snare adds, “And the cop is on the inside with Chaos Riders.”
“Puck?” I clarify.
Noose is already heading for the door, with me on his heels.
“Yeah,” Snare says.
“Fucked-up road name. He couldn't pick any better than that?” Viper says randomly.
Snare shrugs. “Canadian. And whatever—that's the guy's real name—nickname.”
“You guys go.” Viper tilts his head with a flick toward Snare and Lariat. “Just in case Noose's gut is real instead of nerves.”
Noose grabs the door before it can swing shut and shoots a look at Prez. “I don't get nerves.”
That's more true than anything I've heard in a week.
Chapter 17
“You really think I should disregard this violent streak that Wring has?” I ask Rose as we ascend in the elevator on the way to her condo.
She shakes her head, and I'm momentarily surprised. “No—I, don't disregard what he is. Just… accept him.”
Aria lays her head on Rose's shoulder, giving me a glassy, thousand-mile stare.
I smile and flutter my fingers.
She gives me a sleepy wave back.
Cutie.
“It's super-close to naptime,” Rose says apologetically.
My eyes rise from the nearly sleeping baby. “That's no problem. I love kids.” Mist covers my eyes, and I close them, ruthlessly keeping my sadness at bay.
“What, Shannon?”
The elevator rocks as it comes to a stop. The doors whisper open, and I step out. Rose follows.
“I—it sounds so selfish, but if my mom wasn't so compromised physically, I would have gone to school, become an elementary teacher. I've always loved kids.”
“Charlie loves you at story time.”
I'm sure my smile is wistful. “Yeah,” I say softly. “They're sort of like my own kids.” I think of Sally, and that causes me a pang of anxiety.
“Maybe once you hook up with Wring, you'll have more options.”
I turn to her, and we're standing right outside her door. “I don't want to ʻhook up
ʼ with Wring. I mean—” I feel my blush from my toes to my scalp. “We have hooked up. I want to end it, or I want more. A ton more.”
Rose nods. “I understand. But Wring has problems since he's been back from the war,” she confides, “ya know—emotionally. He doesn't sleep well.”
I can't help it. I cover the giggle with a hand.
Her eyebrows arch, and she shifts Aria to the other shoulder. The baby's eyes are drooping so hard, they're tiny slivers of chocolate in her face.
“He sleeps just fine,” I say.
“Really?”
I nod. “Like the dead.”
Rose grins. “So either you wore him out”—she pauses significantly, her lips quirking at the corners—“or you make him feel better. Safe.”
I feel my face tighten in disbelief. “I can't make an aggressive killer feel safe. He's the one that makes me feel safe,” I say with quiet emphasis.
“That's it, though, Shannon. Don't you see it? You make each other feel safe.”
I lift a shoulder. Maybe she's on to something.
Rose touches my arm. “Please tell me you won't shut Wring out without giving him a chance.”
Her big brown eyes look into mine.
I nod. “Okay.”
Rose turns, and I hear her word before her hand goes to the doorknob. “Good.”
Then Rose is screaming as she's wrenched inside her condo.
Aria's startled cry greets my ears, and I don't run.
I can't abandon them.
Even though Lopez's eyes drill into me through the open doorway.
His intent is like an advertisement.
“Come here, virgin bitch.”
My stomach does a slick, slow roll. The delicious shake threatens to dive back up my throat.
I'm no virgin.
Another gangbanger has Rose, his arms wrapped around her.
I gulp back my fear. There's more than me in this scenario.
“Don't hurt my baby, please,” Rose says, tears streaming down her face.
Another gangbanger holds a wailing Aria by the waist, legs and arms dangling.
My gaze swings to Lopez. Oh God, oh God, oh God.
“Well, that depends,” Lopez says, his eyes shifting to mine. “If your friend cooperates, then we leave you two bitches here.” His eyes sweep over the baby, and icy dread slithers down my spine. “The little bitch and the big bitch.” He laughs, reaching out. He grabs Rose's large breast and mounds it, tweaking the nipple.
She mewls, turning her head away. “Noose will kill you if you hurt us,” she says through her fear.
He twists her nipple, and she screams. The baby hollers louder, sympathetic terror causing her eyes to leap from one gangbanger to the other.
The gangbanger shakes her.
“I'll do it!” I scream above their cries.
“What will you do, Shannon?” Lopez says with soft menace.
“Anything,” I answer instantly. “Just leave Rose and the baby alone.”
Lopez smiles. “Dump the kid in a crib somewhere and tie up the cunt.”
The gangbanger stalks into all the rooms, and Rose clutches the arms that hold her, every bit of her body straining toward her crying child.
He comes out empty-handed. “Got the little bitch where she belongs. Kiddie prison.” As he smirks, the teardrop tattoos on his cheek rise with the insincere lift of lips.
“Now you're coming with us. We got a surprise for you, too.”
I don't like how he says “surprise,” and my heart begins to thump.
“Shannon,” Rose calls out, and the gangbanger backhands her.
“Don't,” Lopez says. “If we don't do anything to his woman, we can still be in the clear.”
The guy hauls Rose to her feet. He scrapes a kitchen chair away from the same table I ate pancakes at and sets it behind her. A heavy hand on her shoulder thumps her in place.
He extracts zip ties from his pocket and locks her ankles and hands into place with a ripping sound of plastic.
Lopez approaches, and Rose cowers. “You tell your man to stay out of it. Or I let my boys that don't have any conscious come over and work you over.” His eyes move to the other end of the house, where Aria screams from her crib, and he adds, “And the kid.”
Rose blanches then nods robotically, while fresh tears drip off her chin and onto her hands.
“You'll wish you were dead by the time we're done with you.” His hungry gaze moves to her breasts, and Rose bravely stares him down.
“I'd have fun fucking you, Road Kill property.” He licks his lips and folds his arms, looking down at her. “Be smart, protect your daughter.”
“What about Shannon?” Rose asks with soft insistence.
I shut my eyes. God.
“Forget her. Shannon's a ghost. You know, something you say you saw, and no one believes.”
He wraps his hand around my bicep. His thumb touches his forefinger. “Come on,” he hisses in my ear and takes me out of Rose's.
Leading me down the hall, he comes to the fire exit door and a snarling mess of wires, obviously the result of disabling the alarm, hang from an electrical panel.
The gangbangers follow us.
As do the cries of a little girl and her mama.
*
Noose races up the escape ladder to the condo.
Elevator's out of commission.
His long strides eat the treads like candy, and Lariat, Snare, and I follow.
He grips the metal rails on either side and blasts in the emergency exit door with a well-placed shitkicker.
Female cries reach my ears, and Noose sprints through the open door without checking his points.
I guess if my wife and child were in peril, I would charge in, too.
Whipping around through the open door, I catch sight of Rose. She's gagged with a Blood bandana, and tears have soaked it.
Noose is not with her, and I go to her, taking my folding blade from my front pocket, and cut the ties at the hands.
Her eyes move behind me.
I duck. The whistle of my utility blade is the only sound as I whirl in a three-sixty, burying the blade into the gut of a gangbanger.
His eyes round in surprise.
If they'd done their homework, they would understand how dumb their methods are.
If I weren’t in my head, I would have looked at my weak spots before entering.
Neither of us did. Shows how gone we are on the girls. How careless we are.
I thrust the blade up, and though small, weapons are liquid in my hands, following the extension of my will like a part of my body.
His guts, a steamy mess of glistening pearly worms, tumble to the floor.
Rose starts puking.
I turn.
His hand grabs my ankle as his other tries to hold his guts inside his body.
“Persistent fucker,” I say from the casual place I go when I kill.
I sweep the sharp blade down, sawing through his seeking fingers without much trouble.
The digits fall like decapitated flesh trees on the floor.
Rose tries to get away, and the chair tips.
I catch it with my gory hand and right it.
Squatting beside her feet, I begin to cut off the zip ties there. She screams in a blast of raw terror that takes me back to the Middle East.
I've heard that sound. It’s like a bellowing alarm of impending death.
Wild-eyed, Noose charges into the room, carrying little Aria, who’s hiccupping back sobs.
“What the righteous fuck?” he yells, checking out the carnage.
“Cutting the wife loose,” I reply evenly, though my fingers tremble just the slightest bit from the noise that Rose made.
What do they call my reaction? Oh yeah, post-traumatic stress or some clinical shit like that.
“Hey, baby—it's going to be okay,” Noose says in a soothing voice, taking a step toward her.
Then he steps on a finger. He looks down, raises an eyebr
ow at me, and kicks it aside.
Noose glowers.
“Hey, man, didn't check your corners, just came charging in. I had some clean up here.”
We exchange a glance.
“ʼKay.” Noose looks at Rose.
She's staring off into space.
“God, baby—I'm so sorry.”
Aria begins to cry then wraps her arms around her dad's neck.
Rose breaks, great hitching sobs cutting the space like knives. She stands, but her knees buckle, and Noose catches her, whispering words I can't hear.
Rose shakes her head, tears flying from her cheeks.
“Ya gotta, baby.” Noose cradles her face, and Lariat comes in, holding out his arms.
“Let me take the munchkin.” Noose hands her off, and I walk to Rose.
“Rose.”
She turns in my direction, new tears flowing over the tracks of the last. “I can't, Wring.”
She turns to Noose. “He said he'd come back here and…” Rose's hands clench. “Hurt Aria.”
Noose sucks in a breath. “Nobody's hurting my family, Rose.”
She leans back, her head tipping back. “Noose, they got inside somehow.”
His hand slaps the table so hard, the wood cracks. “The fucking emergency escape was wired. They had someone undo it—the only weakness.”
“If they can get in once, they can get in again. Gotta booby trap this place to death,” Snare says.
“Yeah. Duh,” Noose says, incinerating him with a glance.
“Where is Shannon?” I ask.
All eyes turn to me.
Noose looks back at Rose, hauling her against him. “They didn't hurt Aria. I'm pissed as fuck they broke in here, but they didn't really do anything but scare you.”
“I'm terrified, Noose.” Rose wipes away her tears. “Does this mean you won't kill them, Noose—that we can just ignore them?”
I grin.
Noose gives an almost imperceptible shake of his head. “No, baby. They're all gonna die. They threatened my family.” The pitch of his voice lowers to a growl. “They touched our daughter. We're lucky Charlie was with your parents.” He lifts her chin with a finger. “And as sure as I'm standing here, I bet that Lopez couldn't keep his hands off my property.”