by Dez Burke
He nodded, then took off running to the shattered clubhouse, moving amazingly fast for a chubby old guy.
I didn't have time to wait. He'd have to catch up to me on the open road. I wasn't stopping until I was back in Cassandra and had my girl safe in my arms, with the asshole who'd really caused all this dead at my feet.
“Throttle! Are you sure you want to do this by yourself? I can be right there with you in another ten.” Warlock's voice crackled over the radio.
He was several miles behind me. At that distance, our little radios started to get hit with static.
“No time, brother. You and your boys can clean up the mess when I'm through with him.”
We'd been riding all evening, late into the night. I wouldn't slow down or stop, not even to let my VP and a couple other guys catch up.
My stomach growled. My bones ached from riding and kicking ass all day. My adrenals were totally overloaded, but they stirred every time I thought about the Mayor, torturing my girl by his very sickening presence.
You're dead, rotten meat, asshole.
I imagined his end in a thousand different ways on the six hour drive home. It kept my blood pumping as a late summer evening turned into night, bathing me in those bright prairie stars. They were the very same beautiful stars that showed the night I took her out riding, the night I opened my heart and swallowed hers.
And that made me very, very pissed off.
Letting my crazy urges and emotions come between us last night had been one thing. But letting some other asshole – especially that asshole – separate her from me and tarnish our sweet memories was fucking unforgivable.
Growing up, I'd heard Pop talk about bloodlust, the lunatic Kill Everything instinct he'd first seen in Nam. Sometimes, he came home after a big shootout in the club's early days, exhausted and sick to his stomach.
Violent itself didn't bother him. But turning into that unstoppable beast did, after the dust settled and whoever got in the Devils' way laid dead and buried.
Now, I understood.
I rubbed my bloodshot eyes, feeling raw hatred pulsing through them. A distant corner of my soul was a little scared at what I'd become when I burst into that house, praying I wouldn't be crazy and careless. If they didn't outnumber me, I would've pulled off the Kevlar vest to make sure I went into this whole, quick and flawless.
But this wasn't club business. This was deeply personal, do-or-die business, and the die part wasn't an option.
I reluctantly slowed my bike as I drove through town, heading for the better neighborhoods with land around them and neat picket fences. About a block from the Mayor's place, I pulled behind some bushes and hid my bike.
No need to alert those assholes with a roaring engine. If Hargrove was smart, he'd keep several guys stationed outside his house, ready to warn him about the first sign of trouble.
Thick sheets of clouds swept in, blotting out the stars. Darkness, my dearest friend.
I approached the house slowly, taking the binoculars out of my pocket. I hadn't needed them for crushing the Skulls in Sioux Falls, but now they came in handy.
Nobody was patrolling the sidewalks. I sped up, and then really pounded pavement when I saw the sleek black Escalade running in the long driveway. Its taillights flashed red, but it didn't move.
They're waiting for someone...
My insides did another roll when I realized this might be my last chance, my only chance. Of course, the Mayor wasn't going to wait long to get his daughter the hell out of town. He had to move fast while the MC was occupied, when we couldn't descend on him like a sledgehammer.
I crashed behind the nearest bushes, peeping up to look through the vehicle's windows. Didn't see any outlines except the driver.
She had to be inside. And so was Daddy.
I crawled on the ground like a soldier in a trench, quickly rounding the corner leading to the back.
Something was definitely up. The backdoor was unguarded, and I didn't see anyone at the windows.
I'd busted through glass doors a dozen times before, but I couldn't do that here. Instead, I fumbled with the latch, using the butt of my gun to pry the door open.
It popped, loud enough for me to freeze and make sure I hadn't been discovered.
Predictable. These rich assholes were all concerned about looks, not real security in their doors. I pushed the glass door open, gently closed it, and made my way inside.
The first merc I encountered almost smacked right into me. I was rounding a corner toward the long staircase going up, and he was on his way down. I slammed his head into the wall, covering his mouth, and jerked him inside the nearest bathroom.
He only struggled for a couple seconds. One more good skull-bang against the brass towel rack knocked him out. I fished the gun out of his pocket, grabbed his radio, and switched it on.
“Southeast wing reporting. All clear. The dove is ready to fly.”
“Bringing her out as soon as we hear from South. Charlie, are you there?”
Dead silence. The guy on the radio repeated the same request. I started to sweat.
“All clear,” I said, trying to dull my voice as much as possible. “Ready when you are.”
“Roger that. The boss will be making his way down in sixty seconds. He's coming to the airport to for the big sendoff.”
Airport? I started trembling with rage.
I knew they'd try to take her away from me. But where the fuck did they think they were going? I had to move.
Pressing my ear to the cool bathroom door, I held it there. Footsteps.
I waited until they were right outside, and then cracked the door as four shadowy figures crept past. Hargrove was surrounded by three goons, all making their way to the main door.
They didn't see me coming from behind. I knocked the rear guard out with a hard blow to the back of the head. The other two spun, guns drawn, but I was faster.
I had the Mayor in a choke-hold his scrawny arms couldn't hope to break. I pushed my gun to his temple. It was damned hard not to pull the fucking trigger and end this shit right there.
“Don't either of you two move a single muscle, or this asshole gets it. I'm not fucking around here. Back off!”
I took several steps backward, going deeper into the house. The mercs looked at each other, and slowly lowered their weapons when I jerked the gun harder into his head. Hargrove's groan was music to my ears.
“Remember me?” I whispered. “I'll wait until your friends are outside. You shouldn't have been such a cheapskate. I know you're not paying your guys enough to put their asses on the line coming after me. You're going to take me to Rachel, or I will send a bullet through your rotten brain. With pleasure,” I added.
I was breathing fire in his ear. He trembled in my arms, making tiny sounds like a whiny kid.
“Please...please don't. Anything you want. It's yours.”
Is it really that easy?
I jerked him backward, dragging him upstairs. The two men waited near the main door leading to the long driveway. When they didn't open it and go out, I fired at the chandelier above them.
One man screamed as glass rained down around them, grazing that neat suit, and probably some skin. They turned and ran out the door before I could get off a second shot.
“Rachel's room, or wherever the fuck you're holding her. Right now.”
The Mayor marched on. Warlock was only a couple minutes behind, and he had the firepower from the fight with the Skulls to pin down all three mercs by the vehicle outside. I just wanted to do what I had to do before any of my brothers joined me in the house.
“Here?” We'd stopped in front of a door.
Hargrove nodded. “I gave you what you wanted...can't we back off this? Just a little?”
I stared at him, resisting the urge to plant a bullet in his spine at the spot where I now had the gun against him.
“No, we can't. Last time I let you slip away with a slap on the face, you tipped off a rival MC and killed my fat
her. You blew the second chance you never deserved, and I'm not making that fucking mistake again. Get in there!”
I stabbed the gun into his back. Hargrove jumped forward. He popped the exterior-only lock to the room and we were in. Behind another guard, I saw Rachel, and the man began reaching for his gun.
“Don't. I won't hesitate to kill this asshole. Believe me, it's rough just keeping him hostage. Go join your boys downstairs.”
The merc dug his feet into the ground and stared at me for several seconds. For a moment, I thought he was going to try something stupid, and then I'd have to fire – hopefully faster then him.
The death glare I always gave my enemies never failed.
He began to back off, lowering the gun to the floor. I let him slip slowly past me. I kept my gun trained on him over Hargrove's shoulder as he disappeared down the hallway.
Stepping back into the room, I kicked the door shut and lowered my weapon, holding one arm around the asshole. Rachel was on me in a heartbeat, falling into the embrace I offered with my free arm.
It was like a weird family group hug. On one side, the woman I loved most. On the other, her own flesh and blood, the man who'd tormented her, who deserved a special kind of death.
“I knew you'd come,” she purred, then turned back to the Mayor. “And I promised you he would, Dad. You should've hopped on that plane yourself and let me go. Now, it's too late.”
“Get on the bed, asshole!” I shoved my knees into the backs of his, knocking him flat on the floor.
Hargrove grunted, staggered up, and crawled to the bed. When he was sitting up and looking at us with his dark eyes, I passed the gun into her tiny hands.
“This is all you, baby girl. You should be the one to put a bullet between his sick eyes. Just say the word and I'll give you the space to do it.”
Her pupils shimmered like black pools when she looked at me, as if she couldn't believe what was happening. My girl knew me as the adjudicator of life and death, but this time, I was handing that power over to the one who deserved it most.
“Are you sure?” She asked, staring at me, and then taking a good, long look at her father. “If there were another way...I'd make him live in his own hell. A bullet seems too easy.”
“It is,” I said. “But I think we both know every second this asshole is still breathing means more problems down the line for us.”
“Will you two just get on with it?” The Mayor sneered, craning his face up.
Rachel turned toward him again. This time, all her uncertainty was gone, smothered the instant she heard his wicked, condescending tone.
“Do it, Rach. I'm right here with you.”
I smiled as she raised the gun. I squeezed her shoulder and let my hand drop, giving her the space she needed.
Just then, the door blew open. I spun, ready to send my fists flying into any guards who'd been stupid enough to try to rescue their master. I almost punched my VP instead.
“Hold it! Jesus, just a second, Throttle. There's something you should hear. Her too!” Warlock pointed past me at Rachel.
Shocked, she lowered her shaking hands. I gritted my teeth. Nothing worse than having the energy sucked out of you right when it matters most.
“This better be good.”
“Creeper got me that intel he found in Venom's office down in Sioux Falls. You're gonna want to hear this...”
I leaned in reluctantly. Warlock's big bushy beard tickled my ear as he whispered. I locked eyes with Rachel, and she watched me, wondering what he was saying.
“Okay, okay.” I sighed. “Give me that gun, baby girl. Believe it or not, there's a better way to deal with him.”
“Huh?” She stepped back, a little closer to the Mayor than I liked, her face tense.
“It's okay. If you don't like what I offer, I'll hand it right back to you and we can finish what we started.” I looked at Warlock and disappointment lined his old face.
Too bad. This was her decision.
“Come on. Just let me make the pitch.”
“Fine,” she said, jerking the gun toward me.
Rachel was irritated with the back and forth bullshit. I didn't blame her. I waited until she was right next to me before lifting the gun at the red faced monster sitting on the bed.
“Okay, asshole. This is how it's going to go. From now on, you're going to be looked after by my club. Surrounded, twenty-four-seven. Your office, your home, anywhere you go. The Prairie Devils are gonna be your second shadow. You'll serve us even more faithfully than that bullshit office you claim to serve, and you'll never move up the ranks. You're our Mayor now, and you have no second choices.”
He chuckled nervously. “You're really serious, aren't you? And just why the hell would I agree to this crap?”
“Because if you don't, it'll be a big con slitting your throat one dark night in a prison cell, rather than your own daughter sending hot lead through your skull.”
His face went white. “You...you know.”
“Yeah, I do. The shit in that report is enough to get you a death sentence if it were up to the MC or anybody else with a strict sense of justice. Most criminals don't take too kindly to scummy politicians who make their money off children.”
Rachel stepped forward, eyes like needles aimed at her father. “What's he talking about?”
Hargrove shook his head. I never thought the bastard would show any sense of shame. But he did.
He refused to answer her. I came up behind her, gently squeezing one shoulder.
“If you're not gonna say it, then I will.” I looked at Rachel. There was no easy way to deliver this news. “You're not the only woman this asshole's tried to sell off to advance his career. Just the oldest and most closely related. The Raging Skulls were blackmailing him because they hired a PI to dig into our friend here. Turns out that big fortune he funneled through the old business for campaign contributions originated in child trafficking.”
“Oh my God...” Rachel sputtered, and her face reddened.
Hargrove coughed, shifting uncomfortably. I couldn't take this shit anymore. I lunged forward, grabbing him by the neck. I intended to slowly choke him just to the point of passing out.
“Your dad goes a long way back with some serious criminal organizations. He likes to pretend he's miles above them, but we know the truth. Don't we, Mayor?” His hands wrapped around mine, desperately struggling to pry my fingers off him as I bent them into his neck. “Doesn't surprise me that he's tried to worm his way up in politics, where all the big crime bosses go.”
“Throttle...” Warlock looked at me, concern raging in his eyes.
“How 'bout it, Rach? I know you want to finish the job, just like me, but my VP here says there's a better way. We can keep this asshole under our control, never out of sight, and make sure he never hurts anybody again. The Skulls did a shitty job of blackmailing him because they were high and disorganized.” Baring my teeth, I leaned forward, until I was face to face with the Mayor. “That's not the case with our MC. We know how to use incriminating evidence the right way. And we will.”
I had to release him. He fell back, coughing, struggling for air.
“Well?” I turned to Rachel.
She looked at me for nearly a minute, thinking hard. “Okay. I like your way better. A quick shot to the head sounds too easy for him. This...it'll make him suffer.”
I nodded. So did Warlock, clearly relieved we were doing the smart thing. Not to mention the safe thing – killing Cassandra's Mayor would've invited more problems covering it up.
“Can you hear me, Mayor? I'm going to tell you exactly how it's going to go since your daughter's kindly decided to spare your shitty life. Answer me!” I grabbed his short hair and jerked.
Finally, he nodded. His throat was too damaged to speak.
“No more goons. You're going to let these men off your payrolls tonight. If we find out you try to bring in more bodyguards or pull one over on us in any way, then I won't hesitate another second to fin
ish off what Rach and I started tonight. Understand?”
“Y-yes. I...understand.”
Rachel looked away in disgust. I twisted his head one more time, pulling him close. I wanted to see the terror in his eyes.
“From now on, the Prairie Devils are gonna be your permanent security detail in this town. Not to protect your ass, but to keep the rest of the world safe from you, and any of your fucked up associates. You'll pay us well too. No salaries. That filthy money's gonna get donated bit by bit to the charity of our choice, until it's all gone or you lose your next campaign.”
I shoved him back on the bed, grabbed Rachel by the hand, and stopped near the door to talk to Warlock. “Get a couple guys down here right now. This asshole's all seeing eye starts now.”
“You got it.” My VP smiled. I could tell he was enjoying this.
Having a puppet in the Mayor's office promised to bring a lot of good to the club. Shame it meant I had to reassure Rachel, and myself, that we'd done the right thing.
The front door was ajar. I opened it carefully, and instantly noticed the Escalade in the driveway was empty.
The little black car parked next to it was gone too. The mercs had fled, all except the one I knocked out in the bathroom. I'd make sure they got some small hazard pay in return for keeping this shit quiet.
Soon, we were out in the surprisingly cool night. I held Rachel's hand, preventing her from climbing on my bike like she wanted.
“What?”
“He's never gonna hurt you again, baby girl. Nobody ever will. All that shit that went down between us yesterday...I screwed up. Pop's death messed up my mind. Now that his ghost is satisfied with blood, I'll lick my wounds and regain my senses. I'm sorry.” I looked at her without blinking.
“So am I,” she said softly. “I shouldn't have been so harsh...the whole time he had me here, all I could think about was you, how the last thing I said might be you thinking I didn't want you to come home safe.”
Her lips twitched. Before she started to cry, I tugged her forward, embracing her tightly over my bike. Damn, I wish we didn't have that machine between us just then.
“Don't you worry about that. Crazy shit brings out a lot of emotions. Truth is, I'm in this for the long haul, and you're gonna be my old lady this week. I promise.” I looked away, loving the way the overhead stars reflected in her loving eyes.