by Amity Cross
“Something’s wrong,” I said, listening to the gunfire.
“They weren’t supposed to shoot,” Hopper said.
“Do you think they were ambushed?”
“Likely.”
I strode toward the door and twisted the handle, but the biker grasped my arm and wrenched me away.
“Do not go out there,” he barked at me and realization hit me square in the face.
Chaser had set me up.
Lifting my leg, I was grateful for my flexibility. I smashed my heel down on Hopper’s wrist, and he yelped, dropping his gun. Breaking free, I dove for the firearm and snatched it up. Pointing it at his head, I curled my lip.
“No more games, Hopper,” I drawled, seriously pissed off. “You can’t make me stay in this room. I will shoot any son of a bitch who gets between me and Marini, so help me God.”
“Then fucking go.” He grimaced and shook his wrist. “I ain’t gonna try to stop you again.”
“Sloane!”
I turned at the sound of Shondra’s voice.
Her bottom lip quivered. “Be careful, okay?”
“I’ll be fine,” I said with a smile. “I’m a tough bitch, remember?”
* * *
I went back the way I’d come. Passing my room, I weaved through the compound, taking the long way to Marini’s rooms.
I hadn’t been here since the awful dinner he had me endure weeks ago. I’d hardly seen him at all, which was a glaring indicator as to his affection for his only offspring. The more I thought about it, the more I saw the signs. They were all there. The absence, the threats, the cold stares, the baiting… It was past the time for should haves.
Sounds of movement echoed along the concrete halls. Boots thumped overhead, voices called out somewhere ahead, but I didn’t see a single soul. It was fucking creepy. Any second now, I was sure a zombie would fall out of the darkness and try to tear out my jugular with its bare, rotting teeth.
A shiver ran down my spine as I stood outside the door to my father’s room. If he was in there…
I held up Hopper’s gun and opened the door, tracking the barrel in front of me. I was ready to pull the trigger and cut down any bastard who got in my way, but it was pointless. The moment I stepped inside, I knew.
He wasn’t here. Marini was gone.
I clicked the safety on Hopper’s gun and shoved it down the back of my jeans with a sigh. It would never be this simple. A girl could hope, but hope meant shit when it came down to the wire.
Of course, he wasn’t here.
Marini’s revolver was sitting on the table. Picking it up, I checked the barrel. The mother-of-pearl shimmered on the butt as I tilted it to the side. It was fully loaded. Had Marini left in a hurry? I doubted he would leave this treasure behind. It was a treasure considering what he did with it. Watts told me all about it one night over a beer outside in the yard. It was the club’s executioner.
I snorted. Not quite. Marini was the executioner, the gun was just a tool he used to carry out his sentences.
Glancing at the floor, a brown stain was rusted deep into the carpet. It hadn’t been there before, and I knew it was old blood. I felt bile rising in the back of my throat, knowing the stain belonged to Harley.
The revolver was heavy in my hand, but still, I slid it into the waistband of my jeans.
I turned my back, pushing the thought out of my mind. Opening his bedroom door, I stared into the lair of the monster and scowled. It stunk of him. Of Marini. Gunpowder and sweat. I remembered this place differently. The sweet scent of Mom’s perfume, her clothes lying on the leather chair in the corner, the woven rug on the floor, the pale blue curtains framing the windows. All of that was gone now.
I stepped inside and tried to remember her face, but all I came away with was her cold, dead eyes and the blue lips of death.
I backed away but not before a glint caught my eye. A ring was sitting on the nightstand, and as I approached, I instantly recognized it.
It was hers. Mom’s engagement ring.
A memory surfaced of sitting in her lap and playing with it, twisting the gold band around and around on her finger, watching the diamond sparkle. Daddy gave that to me on the beach, she’d said.
I took one last glance around the room before I left, the ring heavy in my palm. I didn’t know if Dad had given a shit about my mom or what it meant that he kept her engagement ring on the nightstand, but it was mine now. The one and only thing I had left of hers.
It was mine, and I took it from him.
Leaving the bedroom behind, I put the ring in my pocket for safekeeping and went out into the hall. I had to find Chaser and Gasket and get this thing done. Lingering here was pointless.
Movement at the end of the hall pulled me to the right, and my breath caught.
Rocket.
The word enemy flashed through my mind. He hadn’t seen me yet, but he just needed to turn a little to his left, and it was game over. There was nowhere to go except straight ahead, so I raised Hopper’s gun and took a step forward. Shoot or be shot at. At this range, the spoils went to the quick draw.
I gasped as a hand wrapped around my waist and pulled me into a dark room. Instantly, my flight mode activated, and I lashed out, smashing the butt of my gun into my assailant’s face.
“Fuck!” a male voice cursed. “Settle down, amore mio.”
Deluca.
I twisted, gaining enough room to bring my head forward, then I reared backward to smack him in the teeth with my skull. He grunted in pain and let me go. Turning, I saw the blood on his lips in the murky light and smirked.
“You’re one of them.” I snarled, aiming right between his slimy biker eyes. “Say your prayers, asshole.”
“I’m Gasket’s,” he replied, holding his hands up. “And if you didn’t notice, I just saved your tight little ass from being gunned down by Rocket.”
“How do I know you’re not lying?”
“Who do you think narked on Marini to Gasket?” he asked with a sneer. “Fucking Santa Claus?”
“He knew we were coming.” I narrowed my eyes.
“It wasn’t me, amore mio. It might’ve had something to do with Rick being strangely absent, don’t you think?” He snorted. “Either way, you’ve got no options. We have to find Gasket and regroup.”
His cell phone vibrated in his pocket, and he pulled it out.
“They got him,” he said. “They’re regrouping in the garage.”
“They got Marini?” I should’ve been happy, but I was thoroughly annoyed I wasn’t there to see him squirm. “Alive?”
“Fucked if I know.”
Deluca opened the door and peered out into the hallway as a new round of gunfire erupted somewhere in the compound. It was further away this time.
“I thought they got him?”
“Rocket is leading a group loyal to him,” Deluca said. “That’ll be them. Quick.” He beckoned me to follow. “We’ve got to get back to the garage.”
Fine by me. I wasn’t staying in this shithole a moment longer than I had to. I had overdue business with my father, and it was time to collect…with interest.
Chapter 21
Sloane
The moment Deluca and I reached the garage, my gaze swept over the assembled men.
“We’ve got them on the run,” Ram was saying.
“The compound’s clear?” Gasket asked.
“For now.” Stewie.
“Where is he?” I exclaimed.
Heads swiveled toward me as I whirled across the garage.
“Sloane,” Spike started, but I wasn’t listening. Reason could go fuck itself.
“Gasket!” I roared, the revolver heavy in my hand. “Where’s Marini? Where’s my father?”
He grasped my shoulders and held me steady. I pressed into his palms, my hand tightening around the revolver. I hadn’t realized I’d taken it out.
“He’s alive,” Gasket said.
“I want—”
“Come her
e, kid.”
He let me go and guided me through the assembled men to a car sitting on the garage floor I’d scrubbed so diligently with my bare hands.
Gasket opened the trunk, revealing his prize. I stared down at my father, unable to feel a single thing. He was bound with his hands behind his back and ankles taped together. A blindfold covered his eyes, earplugs were stuffed in his ears—the super industrial putty kind—and a strip of duct tape was stuck across his mouth. Total sensory deprivation.
He was conscious because his head flicked back and forth as if he sensed the light on his skin.
“I want to talk to him,” I said.
“Not yet, kid,” Gasket said. “We’ve gotta get out of here first. The others will come back, and we can’t defend the compound.”
“How did you…”
“Someone tipped him off,” he explained. “Knew we were coming for him, just didn’t know when. If we’d waited any longer, he would’ve gone for you.”
I shivered and rubbed my hands up and down my arms. Had it really come that close?
“This won’t end here.” Chaser appeared beside me and attempted to peel the revolver out of my fingers, but they were glued to the butt.
Gasket slammed the trunk closed and turned to the assembled crew. “We can’t hope to hold the compound with our numbers.”
“We’re split down the middle. Fifty-fifty,” Rhodes stated.
“We’ve still got the women to think about,” Stewie said. “They’re tough, but I’m not about to put a gun in Kelly’s hand if I can help it.”
I curled my lip, and Chaser took my hand, knowing I would have a great deal to say about the abilities of the fairer sex.
Ratchet glanced at our linked fingers and narrowed his eyes. “Fuckin’ knew it,” he drawled, causing the others to follow his stare.
“That’s it,” Watts said. “Hell has frozen over. Chaser has a fucking heart!”
“Shut your mouth,” Chaser spat, letting me go. “We need a place to regroup. Somewhere that’s easily defendable with a road that we can watch from multiple angles.”
“I know a place by Joshua Tree, off sixty-two,” Deluca said. “Out of the way but still close.”
“What’s it like?”
“A cabin my old man passed down to me. In the desert, away from the city. It’s out in the open, but we’d see the others coming at least a few miles off. Nothing much moves out there.”
“Anyone else know about this place?” Gasket asked.
“No one knows about it, so we have a good chance of going undetected.”
“It’s a cabin,” Spike said. “There’s thirty of us, countin’ the girls, and we’ve got Marini.”
“There’s room,” Deluca stated. “You’ll see when we get there.”
“Right,” Gasket declared, taking charge. “Deluca, mark this cabin on a map for us. We’ll split into fives, take separate routes, and meet there in two hours. You’ve got five minutes to collect anything you want to take. That goes for the women upstairs. Merrick. Gage.” He snapped his fingers. “Do one last sweep of the compound, and clear it out. We don’t want to be leaving any presents for the others.”
I hung back as the bikers crowded around and synchronized their cell phones, watching the commotion unfold. Though, one eye was firmly stuck on the trunk of the car next to me. I almost expected it to burst open like a screwed-up jack-in-the-box, but all was still.
“Do you need anything from your room?” Chaser asked, lingering beside me. “We won’t be able to come back here for a while.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s just stuff.” I had all I needed in my pocket.
“What about your laptop?”
“That life is gone, Chaser. I should’ve thrown it into the lake with my textbook.”
He narrowed his eyes but didn’t offer any commentary or reassurances. He knew I didn’t need them.
“Then we’d better get with our road crew.” He nodded toward the garage door.
Spotting his motorcycle outside, I tensed. It had been years since I’d ridden on one.
“I won’t let you fall off,” Chaser said with a smirk.
I rolled my eyes and snatched up the helmet hanging off the handlebars. It was going to be a long ride.
Chapter 22
Chaser
The city morphed into the desert as the convoy left the outskirts of Los Angeles.
Sloane sat behind me on my motorcycle with her arms wrapped around my waist and her crotch melded against my ass. If it had been any other night, my dick would’ve been hard, but it was flaccid as fuck.
Before we’d hit the highway, the group had split off into fives, weaving their way through the suburbs. If anyone were following us looking to take Marini back on the road, they would have a hard time figuring out which group. Five cars with three bikes a piece. We were low on numbers, but it was enough to get the job done.
Sloane and I were following a decoy that held Shondra and Hopper, and Watts and Spike brought up the rear on their bikes.
We weaved our way through the outskirts of the city, watching for any tails, but we managed to escape detection, and by the time we’d finally merged onto route sixty-two, we were clear. The sunrise was the only thing that chased us to Joshua Tree.
Deluca said the property lines crossed those of the National Park, but there were no fences out here, so who knew how much was theirs and how much was his. No one had ever cared to check. I took it to mean his family had done a lot of questionable shit out here.
I brought my bike to a stop and turned off the engine. Peeling off my helmet, I felt Sloane do the same behind me. When her feet were on solid ground, I kicked my leg over and stood beside her.
“Okay?” I asked, keeping my voice low as more bikes and cars rolled in behind us.
Her eyes were on the others, scanning for Gasket no doubt. The dawn was bright, the fire of it lighting her skin with a dusty orange glow.
“With you driving? Always.”
It wasn’t what I meant, but I would take it. My gaze fell to her lips, and for the first time, I hesitated.
“I think they all know by now,” she murmured. “You’re all up in my personal space. If I had a cock, you’d be on it.”
My lips curved, and I dropped my helmet and caught her face in my hand. Our kiss was swift, hot, and did nothing to douse the longing my cock had endured these past weeks. There would be time to fuck. Maybe out under the stars…
Hell, for now, it was enough not to pretend anymore.
“Everyone’s accounted for,” Watts said, his voice breaking Sloane and me apart. “We set the women up in the workshop for now. None of them wanted to stay in the main house.”
“Why?” Ratchet asked. “It would be more comfortable for them.”
“They don’t want to be in the same place as Marini,” was his reply.
“Why not hold him in the workshop?” Rhodes.
“It’s not secure,” Deluca said. He’d know. “There’s a basement under the cabin. It’s tighter than an asshole down there.”
Sloane snorted, and I leaned into her.
Gasket thumped his fist down on the trunk of the car. “Basement it is. Chaser. Give us a hand.”
I glanced at Sloane, and she nodded.
She watched us drag Marini out of the trunk and dump his ass onto the ground. He groaned and squirmed, trying to fight his way free of his bonds. It was a pathetic sight, really. His struggle was pointless. There was no freedom for him anymore.
“Follow me,” Deluca said, leading us into the house.
Gasket and I carried Marini between us. I had his feet, and Gasket had his arms hooked under his shoulders.
The basement had been carved out of the bedrock underneath the house. How they ever got the permits for that, I would never know. Likely, there weren’t any. Either way, it was secure, isolated, and the only place we could keep Marini locked up. If miracles existed and he got free, there weren’t many places he could
worm his way out of. Upstairs or through the access window. Beyond, there wasn’t anywhere to go that wasn’t arid and full with the men who’d defected to Gasket.
And Sloane. She was out there, armed with his favorite revolver.
We threw Marini down on a chair in the middle of the dank basement. Gasket pulled out a roll of duct tape from his back pocket and taped him to the metal. A knife split the bonds on his ankles, and he was lashed to each leg of the chair before his arms were secured behind his body. His shoulders looked like they were about to be dislocated, the angle was so unnatural. It looked uncomfortable, which was fine with me.
Finally, Gasket ripped the gag out of Marini’s mouth, tore away his blindfold, and unplugged his ears. It was past time to have a frank conversation. No more manipulation. No more betrayals. Just blood and truths.
“Dog,” Marini said, narrowing his eyes. “After all we’ve been through, you stab me in the back.”
“You would’ve killed us all,” Gasket said, not missing a beat. “You were leading us down a dangerous path, Anthony. Your beef with King was only ever going to end one way.”
“Under me, Fortitude would’ve amassed more power than you could’ve ever dreamed of.”
Gasket shook his head. “You can’t see past your own arrogance.”
“I know how this is going to end,” Marini drawled. “Or how you think it is.”
“It’s not my decision,” Gasket spat. “This is not a dictatorship.”
Marini laughed, the sound sending chills down my spine. He was cold, calculated, and…soulless. It was the only word I could think of that described the amount of fucks the deposed president of Fortitude MC currently gave.
“What deal did you make with them?” Gasket asked, folding his arms over his chest.
Marini smiled up at him, his eyes cold and emotionless, and remained silent. This would obviously be a drawn-out affair…and a very painful one. I fought the ball of rage flaring inside me and clenched my fists. He didn’t care. He truly didn’t give one single fuck about the men he commanded or his daughter.