Vipers Run

by Stephanie Tyler

  I thought he was talking about himself, but he pointed to Holly and me. “I’ll take care of some of this—get her to the back.”

  While he killed the lights, I bent down as sirens rang in the distance and focused on Holly. “Holly, listen to me.” Holly’s eyes were vacant as she looked at me. “Holly, we’ve got to get out of here. Just give me the gun.”

  But Eli was pulling it from her hands instead. “I’ll get rid of it and the carpet. Get out of here.”

  The idea of handing a scene-of-the-crime shotgun to a teenager went against everything I’d ever known, but I did it anyway. “Holly, come on.”

  I pulled her up and the three of us went out the back, grabbing Gigi, who seemed to be in shock as well, and locking the door as we did. Eli disappeared into the woods and Holly and I went through the alley silently and into the clubhouse. Once inside, I looked her over. She had blood splattered on her shirt. I ripped it off her as Bear came out and said, “All right. A show.”

  “Police are after her,” I snapped. “She shot a Heathen. Alarms are going off next door.”

  Rocco was next to me, demanding, “Why didn’t you press the alarm?”

  “I didn’t know there was one,” I told him. Holly mumbled something. “And Cage’s brother’s getting rid of the gun.”

  “Cage’s brother?” Rocco repeated as he grabbed the T-shirt and lit it on fire.

  There was a knock on the back door. “That’s him.”

  “He can’t come in here,” Bear protested, but I was beyond listening. I let him in and Bear went from angry to relaxed in seconds. “Hey, Eli.”

  Eli stood in the doorway. “I got rid of it.”

  “Good job, kid,” Rocco told him.

  “Not a fucking kid.”

  “Right. No. Come on—I’ve got an idea.” Rocco motioned for him to come inside, and after a long moment’s hesitation, Eli did. “Go wait in Cage’s space, all right? Take Holly.”

  Eli led the tall woman by the elbow. She turned around toward me before she allowed that, though, and she squeezed my hand.

  * * *

  Halfway through the demo of the tunnel, several Heathens came charging up the hill.

  “Better than Havoc,” Preacher muttered to himself as he drew his knife with the pearl handle, the one rumored to have come from the founder of the club. The knife he’d taken by force from the last president of Vipers nearly twenty years earlier, when he’d had enough of the man’s shit.

  The knife he’d killed the man with, in the middle of the clubhouse, and left him lying in the middle of the floor, daring any of the others to step forward and fuck with him.

  A balls-to-the-wall move—one he’d been too young and stupid to even consider not trying. Impetuousness had served him well back then. These days, he believed thinking things through was a man’s best friend.

  Back then, a few of the guys had come forward to challenge him. They were no longer in the club, but he’d left them among the living. But the former president . . . after what he’d done to a woman, the daughter of a member, there was no way Preacher could look in his face daily or pretend to take orders from him.

  You didn’t fuck with women or children. That was a rule he drilled into his MC members’ heads. The Heathens didn’t live by those rules, and because of that, he had no problem at all taking their lives.

  Cage came over to him and looked at the dead bodies at Preacher’s feet. Three bodies in all, but one of them was moving.

  “I’d have called if I couldn’t handle it. Go back to your explosions,” Preacher told him.

  Cage just shook his head and left, muttering something about crazy motherfuckers.

  * * *

  An hour later, they’d buried the two Heathens and blown the drug tunnel to the sky. Cage and Preacher left the other Heathen handcuffed to his own bike, C-4 in his pockets and the remains of the tunnel next to them.

  It wouldn’t take care of his father and Troy—not immediately. But the fallout would throw enough suspicion on the Heathens to keep them busy for a while. It would also deplete their drug supply, and their cash flow. And hopefully, make them several more enemies.

  All in all, a good night. Until he saw the flashing lights two blocks before he and Preach got to the clubhouse and pulled over. They checked their phones and saw the alarms—Cage realized they’d been out of range.

  Preacher dialed, a hand on his shoulder to keep him from bolting, because Calla was the first thought in his mind.

  “Started in the tattoo shop? What the fuck?” Preacher growled, then hung up and made a few more calls, cementing their alibi for the night before they drove past the shop and into the clubhouse.

  Of course, the goddamned police chief was only too happy to see them.

  “Looks like a brick was thrown in the window. Seems like the shop was closed at the time. We’re just being extra cautious.”

  “And I certainly appreciate that, Officer,” Preacher told him as Cage slid into the clubhouse, his heart pounding out of his chest. Bear pointed and he took the stairs two at a time, slammed the bedroom door open and found Calla, pale but unharmed, sitting on the bed. She’d been curled up and started when he’d burst in, but she met him halfway. He scooped her up in his arms and just held her close. She was trembling but holding him tightly.

  “Babe, what the hell . . . ?”

  “I didn’t want to worry you. I know you said emergency, but by the time it became one . . .” She trailed off, shook her head.

  The creak of the floor behind him made him turn, ready to strangle the next person who came near him. He hadn’t been prepared to see his stepbrother.

  “Hey, Cage.”

  “Eli, what’s going on?” The fact that he was even in the clubhouse meant something was completely fucked.

  “He saved me and Holly. Well, Holly saved us and then Eli protected us from the police,” Calla explained, her voice strong enough to make him believe she was okay. He looked between them and saw an understanding had blossomed between his woman and his brother, and that a bond had already begun to form. Life and death would do that to you.

  “Is that true, Eli?”

  Eli nodded, but he looked troubled. “She wouldn’t have needed saving if I hadn’t fucked up in the first place.”

  “Eli, no,” Calla started, but Cage put a hand on her shoulder and motioned for Eli to continue.

  “They followed me here. They had to. I thought I was being slick but . . .”

  He looked miserable.

  “Why’d you come here in the first place?” Cage asked.

  Eli shrugged.

  “I think you two need some time alone. I’ll go check on Holly.” Calla touched his back and then Eli’s arm on the way out. Her look implored Cage to go easy on him, and Cage would. He just wouldn’t let Eli know that.

  * * *

  Cage watched Calla move from the main section of the clubhouse before he said to Eli, “You know how many times I’ve reached out to you?”

  Eli shrugged. Now the kid was going to pull the cool act.

  “Does your mom know you’re here?”

  “Doubt it.” He paused. “I spent the past week at clubhouse.”

  Cage almost growled out loud. Eli’s mother had promised that Eli would spend minimal time at the clubhouse. Eli had seen Cage as the enemy before this. Cage saw a scared kid behind the teenager in the probie cut, forced to be a man too soon.

  “Why?” he demanded harshly. More so than he’d intended.

  Eli’s jaw tightened. “I was moving there permanently, at Dad’s request.”

  “Dammit, you were supposed to stay . . .”

  “Like you did? You left.”

  “Eli—”

  “Heard it before.”

  “You’ll hear it again.”

  Eli turned
away from him and Tals stuck his head in. “Cage—a moment?”

  Cage said to Eli’s back, “We’re not done,” and the boy just grunted.

  “Way to parent,” Tals told him.

  “Like you could do better?”

  “Mommy Dearest could’ve,” Tals informed him seriously. “Take a step back. He finally did what you wanted—he came here. Don’t push him back out the door.”

  * * *

  Holly was already asleep, helped along by whatever meds Rocco had given her before he and Bear took the bullet out of her thigh. I’d heard her moaning, and it had been a struggle to stay out of the room myself. Once Preacher arrived, he seemed to have that same struggle.

  Rocco said he’d stay with her overnight at the clubhouse, but then Preacher said Rocco should drive us home and that he’d stay. That got a raised eyebrow from both Tals and Rocco, but I didn’t question them. Tals quickly decided he would stay to stand guard, in case the Heathens tried to come back. Rocco drove me and Cage and Eli back to the apartment. Once Cage got Eli settled in, he came back to where I waited, by the windows.

  “Babe.” He circled his strong arms around me. I tried not to tremble and failed miserably. He pushed me against the wall, his body holding me down and protecting me all at once, like a human shield. “Please tell me that blood on you isn’t—”

  “It’s all Holly’s,” I said quickly. “Rocco helped. He took the bullet out of her thigh. Said there’s going to be a scar. I wanted to take her to the ER but—”

  “Babe, stop. You don’t have to relive it.”

  But I was—worse than when we’d been at the clubhouse. I’d been calm there, out of necessity, but here I was losing it. I was babbling. Spinning. And then I realized that he must’ve faced demons of his own tonight, because the look on his face was so tortured. “Just hold me.”

  He did, and for a long while it was just us, standing on top of the world. “Calla, I had no idea Eli would come by.”

  “I know.” For Eli, I had to hold it together. I wouldn’t let him feel guilty for any of this. “Holly . . . if she hadn’t been there . . .”

  He grimaced. “I’m thankful she was. Otherwise, Eli would’ve taken action.”

  “Holly was like a wild woman. She was possessed. What’s her deal?”

  Cage ran a hand through his hair. “She was hurt a while back. Her old man was killed pretty brutally in front of her. He wasn’t one of ours, but his MC didn’t stand by her.”

  “I thought that’s what you guys did.”

  “They claimed he’d sold out his club. That he was trying to get out. If someone hadn’t killed him, his own MC would’ve. If you want out, you’ve got very few options.”

  “And Holly?”

  “They hurt her. The MC kicked her out, took over her business and left her with nothing. She came here to start over.”

  There had to be a reason, but it didn’t seem to matter. No wonder she’d freaked out so badly. “But if the violence scares her, why come back to an MC?”

  “It’s all she knows. MCs are where she’s comfortable. What she likes.”

  I tried to wrap my mind around that and only semifailed. “How’s Eli?”

  “Not admitting much. Trying to pretend he’s fine. Furthest thing from.” He sighed. “My father’s going to be calling me soon.”

  My heart broke for him. “So now that Eli is here, they’ll try to hurt you again?”

  “Better me than him. But at some point he’s got to decide to tell them he’s staying here. I’m just giving him a little breathing room to do so.”

  “He’s a baby.”

  “No, he’s not. Not in this world.”

  “What about getting a court order?”

  “We don’t need that. The Heathens—my father won’t go to the courts for help, and even if we did, it’s not a code of justice he’d bother to follow.” He hung his head. “I never should’ve let him stay there that long.”

  “The last few years . . .”

  “I spent trying to kill his father,” he finished.

  “Well, when you put it like that . . .” I murmured, then continued. “The thing is, there are always going to be Heathens. If you stay in this world, it’s always going to be a fight. Is it worth it?”

  “Always has been. Always will be.”

  “Then I’m in.”

  “The Heathens can stay. It’s my family I want out of there. That’s who I’m exorcising. The rest of those motherfuckers . . . they can stay and try to fuck with the Vipers. But my family? That’s personal, and I’m handling it.” He buried his face against my neck. “I promised to keep you safe, dammit.”

  “You can’t be with me twenty-four/seven.”

  “I should’ve been here.”

  “It’s my fault.” Eli stepped out from the shadows and Cage’s face turned pale.

  “No, nothing is your fault,” Cage said quietly, and I nodded in agreement.

  “I put your woman in danger. I’ll go back.”

  “You’re not going back,” Cage told him.

  I watched the scene, imagining a young Cage being as stalwart as Eli was at the moment. I pulled away from Cage and went to stand with Eli. “Eli took care of things.”

  “Yeah?” Cage moved closer to both of us and put a hand on the back of Eli’s neck, and the teen couldn’t stop a grin from escaping. “Good job.”

  “I was trying to make up for everything,” Eli confessed, like he couldn’t hold it in any longer, the look on his face breaking my heart.

  “There’s nothing you need to make up for,” Cage told him.

  “They found you that night because of me,” Eli confessed.

  I tensed, but needn’t have worried.

  “And your calling the cops saved me. You risked everything by doing that, Eli,” Cage told his younger brother firmly, before getting up and dragging the boy into a hug.

  “I can’t go back there, Cage. I feel like I’ll fucking die if I do,” Eli admitted quietly.

  I wanted to hug both of them.

  “You’re not going back. Ever. You belong here. You saved me and then you saved Calla. You’ve more than proven yourself to Preach.”

  “Suppose I don’t want the life?” The question burst out of him like a surge of gunfire, but the only damage in this case was the fear I saw etched in his face.

  “Is that what you’re worried about? That the only reason I’d let you stay is if you join Vipers?”

  “You had to.”

  “Fuck no, I didn’t have to. I wanted to. I didn’t want it any other way, but Preacher wouldn’t let me join until I was sixteen. Until I saw what Vipers was about, and if I hadn’t wanted to? He would’ve paid for college.”

  As Cage spoke, Eli’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

  “Yes, really. You stay with me. If you want out of the life, you’re out. Simple as that. I want you to have all your choices open to you.”

  “It really doesn’t matter to you?”

  “The only thing that matters is that you’re happy. And that you’re a good man. From what I’ve seen, you’ve already gone a long way toward that second part.”

  Eli’s shoulders slumped with relief. “I didn’t know if there was room for me.”

  Cage put a hand out to me while looking at him and said, “There’s room, Eli,” as he gave my hand a squeeze.

  There was room for all of us, Cage was telling me.

  * * *

  “You don’t have to hover over me like I’m a child.”

  Holly’s clipped, cold tones never sent him away, although that’s exactly what she was looking to do.

  Preacher ignored her and pulled a chair right up to the bed. “And if I wanted to, I’d lay the fuck down next to you,” he told her.

  She stared at him. Blinked. Because she knew it wa
s a promise, not a threat. “What the fuck’s happening, Preacher?”

  “There’s going to be hell to pay.”

  Her eyes were glassy, from the pain and the meds to combat the pain. She’d refused her anxiety meds, and Preacher didn’t push them on her. But Christ, there was no way she was getting through tonight without a nightmare.

  “It’s not Cage’s fault,” she told him. “Which means it’s not yours.”

  “What makes you think I’d take the blame in the first place, woman?” he demanded. She snorted softly and didn’t answer. And she was probably the only woman—the only one—he’d let get away with telling him his business. Like he didn’t know it.

  Still, the reassurance was good to hear. Even if he’d never admit it.

  She was watching him, a small smirk on her face, because she knew.

  Taking Cage back into the MC—bringing him into it in the first place—wasn’t ever something Preacher thought about twice. He’d taken over the MC when it had been in the worst possible shape and he’d dragged it back to where it was today. He didn’t want a piece of shit he couldn’t be proud of representing him. He liked action. Danger. He didn’t mind stealing a car or two either. But the drug shit? No way.

  When he’d taken Troy’s wife to bed—and he’d done it several times, because he could—he’d made her a lot of promises he knew he’d never keep.

  There’d been a lot of women in and out of his life. But none like Holly. And even though he would end up sleeping next to her tonight, that would be all they did. She wasn’t ready. Probably never would be. And he’d ruined enough women.

  “You’ve got blood on your jeans,” she pointed out, her words slightly slurred.

  “Didn’t have time to change.”

  “Vigilante justice?”

  “Best kind.”

  “Am I in the wrong place, Preacher?” she asked softly. “Maybe I should go retire somewhere warm and safe . . .”

  “Maybe you should,” he told her, his voice just as quiet. But she was already asleep, or pretending to be so she wouldn’t hear his rejection. Again.