Ride or Die #2: A Devil's Highwaymen MC Novel

by Claire C. Riley

  Gauge swatted the back of my head. “Get out of the van, you dumb fuck.”

  I shrugged and jumped out of the van, quickly following the crowd of Highwaymen over to the shutter doors. Axle was already working his magic on the lock, since that was one of his many talents. Though I had a feeling we were about to see one of his other talents when we came face to face with the Rev’s men.

  The lock sprung open and one by one we moved quietly inside the warehouse. The building was lit by dim security lights all along the walls, and shelving and boxes were stacked high enough that we couldn’t see over them. We made our way down the aisles. And I couldn’t help but feel claustrophobic by the towering boxes at every turn. I took a quick glance at one of the labels. An Atlanta PD stamp was right on the top, and I sneered at it before tearing the label off the box and shoving it in my back pocket to show Shooter later. The others had moved on when I stopped and I tailed them, sweeping my gun left and then right as I walked.

  A noise from the other side of the warehouse had us all dropping to a crouch and pressing our backs to the shelving units as we waited to see who it was.

  “I told you not to touch them! Not fucking yet, I said!” a loud voice boomed, echoing off the high roof. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Timing is everything, Vicks, and you’ve fucked our timing all up.”

  “Needed to get this finished with. Thought the best way was to provoke,” came the reply.

  “I don’t pay you to think! I pay you to shut your fucking mouth and do what you’re told, and I told you to wait!”

  The sound of flesh hitting flesh made me smirk. Sounded like someone was getting a beatdown and I knew there was no way Axle was going to stand missing out on all the action. As if on cue, I watched Axle’s shadow moved as he stood up. He stormed around the shelving unit with his gun raised, and before another word could be uttered, he fired his gun.

  “Go time,” I muttered as I stood up and we began to charge around the side of the shelving.

  The gunshot hadn’t gone unheard, and by the time I reached the end of the aisle, bodies were filing in through the main door, weapons drawn. It didn’t take a genius to work out what was going on, yet it took the Rev’s men far too long to realize that their moments on this earth were numbered. Gunfire and the acrid smell of fired guns filled the air, along with screams and yells. Footsteps and yelling came from every direction as men dove for cover or chased each other down. It was a bloodbath within seconds. And as suspected, at the center of it all was Battle and Fighter.

  I aimed my gun and fired at the men filing through the door, hitting a guy named Semi—that I’d met a couple of years back—in the chest. Blood blossomed on his tee as he dropped to his knees, the gun falling from his hands shortly before he fell face forward. Never did think he was too smart.

  Shooter, Gauge, and Axle were already heading through the door that the Rev’s men had just come through, with two of my brothers following him and leaving the rest behind to slaughter the Rev’s men. I chose to follow my prez, catching up with him quickly.

  We headed down a long, gray corridor that reminded me of an old office block, before stopping at a corner and pressing our backs against the wall as Gauge quickly checked for signs of more men coming up the stairs. After a brief check we kept on moving, following the stairs down. I felt the temperature drop the lower we got, and I wondered how low down this place would go.

  As we reached the bottom, a man turned the corner and started taking the stairs up two at a time, only noticing us as he got close. Shooter grabbed him and threw him headfirst into the wall, knocking him unconscious. We filed past his motionless body, every one of us giving the man an extra kick as we passed by.

  We hit the bottom of the stairs and took a left, checking each room that we passed but finding each one of them empty. At the end of the corridor was a tall metal door, and Shooter tried to open it, but to no avail.

  “Locked from the inside,” he said, turning to look at us all. “Motherfucking got himself a safe room.” He looked up into a small camera mounted on top of the door. “Watching us, though.” He jerked his chin to the camera.

  “You that much of a pussy you gonna stay in there while your brothers get slaughtered out here?” Gauge bellowed to the camera.

  Axle pushed past me, blood smeared across his cheek and hands. “Ain’t no matter,” he said, shrugging out of his backpack. “I got this shit handled.”

  He crouched down and unzipped it, pulling out a small homemade bomb.

  “How long you been walking around with that thing strapped to your back, Axle?” I asked.

  He looked up and grinned darkly.

  “Crazy motherfucker,” I replied.

  He started working on the wires while I headed back to the stairs to keep watch. Good timing, too, as three men came charging down the stairs toward me. I aimed my gun and shot at them all, hitting two and missing one.

  The third man dove at me, knocking the gun from my hand and sending us both to the ground. He was bigger than me, managing to use his weight to overpower me enough to grab me. Lucky for me, my strength was that I was a quick motherfucker. And on that same thought I swung out of his grip and punched him in the ribs in one quick move. He groaned as the crack sounded out and I punched again, dodging his fist as he tried to get me back.

  I had no clue where my gun had landed, but I still had my knife in its sheath so I pulled that out and raised it high as he charged me. His weight hit me full on as he rugby tackled me to the ground and I stabbed at his back, feeling the blade slip into his body somewhere between his shoulder blades like a hot knife through butter. He didn’t seem to notice at first and continued to pummel me with his fists, but eventually the pain won out and he groaned loudly.

  “You like that, motherfucker?” I grunted as I pulled the knife out and stabbed it back in again.

  He grabbed me by the waist and shoved me away from him with a loud roar, making my back slam against the opposing wall and my foot hit something as I stumbled. “Highwaymen should have done as they were told,” the guy said with a sneer. “Now we’re not just going to take your drugs and fuck up your club. Now we’re going to destroy you and your entire families. You got no idea the amount of pain we’re going to inflict on you!”

  I sneered right back. “The club is my family, you fuckwad, and no one messes with my family.” I reached down and grabbed my gun from the ground before quickly firing it at his forehead. Sorry motherfucker didn’t even have time to look surprised.

  I grinned, but it was short lived as a large explosion erupted and guns began firing again. I turned and quickly headed back into the fray, assuming that Axle had managed to blow the door to the Reverend’s safe room open. I was right, too. Hadn’t expected one of the dead guards on the ground to be not-so-motherfucking-dead, though. And I felt his bullet slam into my side.

  I wrapped my arms around my stomach and groaned as blood began to spray from the hole in my body, and then I aimed my gun at his head and fired every last bullet into him as I dropped to my knees.

  Chapter Thirty-four:

  Dom

  I had teamed up with Battle and Fighter, following them into the center of the fray. It wasn’t my usual way, but then I wasn’t really feeling like myself at the moment. Felt like I was fucking drowning at times, choking on my own blood, my eyes clouding over as I coughed and spluttered and waited for death’s grip to tighten its hold and strangle me.

  I had stupidly thought that after telling some of my brothers about the fact that I was gay, I would feel better. But I didn’t. So I made peace with Casa, and I let Harlow go—not entirely with my blessing, but I let her know that I loved her but she had to think of herself right now, not me. Still felt like shit, though.

  I was lost in a dark abyss, and sinking further into my own personal living hell with every breath I took. Not sure how to get myself out alive, or even if I wanted to. Maybe that was it. Maybe I had to want to live to make the pain go away. But it
was hard to see past the pain to the point of living when every bone and muscle and fiber of my being hurt and ached with loss.

  So maybe this was it.

  Maybe my days were numbered.

  At least I’d be with Butch when it was all over.

  Fucker would be waiting for me at the gates of hell, ready to give me shit about giving up, but he’d be there and I’d be there, and that would be enough.

  Battle had one of the Rev’s men tied to a chair. We’d dragged two of them into a small storeroom to work our own form of vengeance out on them, but one of the men hadn’t made it. Seemed Fighter had gotten a little too handsy when it came to knocking the guy out.

  Battle pulled out some big brass knuckles from his pocket and slid them on. “What’s your name?”

  The guy in the chair spat a mouthful of blood on the ground in front of him, lifting his chin in defiance. “Fuck you.”

  “Interesting name,” Battle laughed and swung his fist into the face of the man in the chair.

  His head whipped back, blood and teeth spraying from his lips. Battle hit him again and again, the sound of crunching bone impossible to ignore.

  “I’ll ask you again: what’s your name?” Battle crouched in front of the guy.

  When he turned his head to the front, it was obvious he wasn’t going to be able to speak since his jaw was clearly dislocated.

  Fighter raised an eyebrow at me and smirked. “Let Dom try setting that shit straight for the brother. He’s a good guy, likes to help out—ain’t that right?”

  Battle looked up at me and nodded. He stepped back, allowing me some space, and I rolled my shoulders and cracked my knuckles, and when Battle slid off his brass knuckles and tried to hand them to me I shook my head no.

  “I got this,” I growled with a heavy breath.

  I stood in front of Acid—yeah, I already knew this motherfucker’s name—and I stared down at him, my gaze traveling over his broken and bloody face. His jaw was hitched to right, his eyes bloodshot; his nose was broken and blood trailed down from each nostril, dribbling over his lips. He was so fucked up, and if he didn’t die here today, he was going to wish he had by the time Battle and Fighter were done with him, that was for damn sure.

  Acid’s eyes widened and he grunted at me, trying to open his mouth to speak—probably to tell me his name. But I wasn’t interested in his pleas. All I cared for right then was making someone else feel the sort of pain I was feeling in the hopes I’d feel better afterwards.

  I pulled my gun from the back of my jeans, made sure the safety was on, and then swung back, hitting Acid in the right side of his face as hard as I could.

  He screamed as his jaw was knocked back into place, though other damage was done to his cheekbone. Blood dribbled from between his lips and his eyes rolled back in his head. Fighter went behind Acid and grabbed him by his hair, lifting his face up so he could look me in the eye.

  Acid was done for, I realized.

  Didn’t stop me hitting him with my gun again, though.

  *

  I walked out of the small room, leaving Fighter and Battle to finish off Acid in the most torturous way they saw fit. I should have felt bad. Guilty. I should have felt something. But I felt nothing.

  Absolutely nothing.

  Not even pain.

  The warehouse was filled with bodies and the heavy stench of blood. Highwaymen were dragging the Rev’s dead men into a pile in the center of the warehouse, ready to torch the whole lot as a warning to the Razorbacks. A big red fucking flag that would let them know that we were coming for them, we would have no mercy, and they were going to regret ever going up against us.

  The sound of Shooter’s booming voice had me looking over toward a small side door as a couple of my brothers came out of it, dragging an unconscious Reverend with them. Casa had his arm around Gauge’s shoulder and he was cradling his stomach with his other arm.

  “What happened?” I asked, moving toward them. My thoughts were immediately on Harlow and what would happen to her if Casa were to die today. Couldn’t let that shit happen, no matter how much he pissed me off at times.

  “Shot in the side,” Casa grunted, but he was still grinning like a crazy bastard. “Sent that fucker to Hades, though, so it’s all good.”

  “Speak for yourself. You’re one heavy motherfucker,” Gauge grumbled.

  “We get everyone?” I asked, my fists still wanting more vengeance.

  “Everyone that stupidly stuck around,” Gauge replied, continuing toward the exit. “Need to get to the clubhouse and get the doc to stitch this shit up.”

  I nodded. “Good. I’ll do another sweep to be sure, and then help with the cleanup.”

  “Need you with me,” Shooter said, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Taking the Reverend straight to the Razorbacks. I want this message blowing up in their faces, today.”

  I followed Shooter, Casa, and Gauge toward the exit. Axle and Shooter threw the Reverend in the back of the van and we climbed in after him. Axle’s hands were drenched in blood and he glared down at the body of the Reverend with utter hatred. Couldn’t even imagine what he must have been feeling, what with what had happened to his woman. He should have been with her right then, but we’d all seen the look of horror on his face when the doc had said how brutally she’d be attacked. Probably wondering how the fuck he was ever going to look her in the eye again without feeling guilty for dragging her into the club shit. I knew I would be.

  Shooter slammed the door shut and ordered Gauge to drive. My cell was vibrating in my pocket. Had been for the past thirty minutes, but I’d obviously been preoccupied. I pulled it out now, though, noticing I had ten missed calls—a mix of Rider, Laney, Charlie, and Max, one of the prospects. There was also a message from Harlow, but I didn’t have time to read it before I took the call.

  “Shooter, think we got a problem,” I said, hitting redial and calling Rider back.

  “What is it?” he asked, pulling out his own cell, his brow furring as he looked at it. “Fuck.” He hit redial and started calling someone else, and I glanced over to Casa. He was covered in blood down one side, but it looked like he had stopped bleeding for the time being, thanks to his quick thinking of tying his own shirt around his waist.

  Casa looked up at me, his eyes dark.

  “Check your phone,” I ordered.

  He leaned to one side and started to pull out his cell as it started to ring loudly. He answered it at pretty much the same time that Rider picked up my call, and I drowned out Casa to listen to Rider.

  “The Rev’s men have got Harlow,” he said, his tone full of anger and regret.

  The world stopped turning while I let his words sink in.

  “Where?” I said between gritted teeth, my gaze going to Shooter, who was also talking to someone on his cell phone and looked like he was about to go on another mass killing spree at any second. I could barely hear what Rider was telling me between the loud thumping of my heart.

  “Looks like a safe house about two miles south of the dam. Ain’t nothin’ but trees around for miles. I’m headin’ there now with a couple of prospects, but we could really do with some help if you’re done at the warehouse.” Rider’s arm was still healing after the last shootout, but he was still taking it upon himself to head out there to try and save Casa’s and my girl regardless, armed with only a handful of prospects. I needed to buy him a fucking beer next time I saw him.

  “On our way,” I said and hung up. I looked over at Shooter and Casa. Both men had finished their calls, and were looking furious. “Harlow?” I asked and they both nodded. “Rider’s on his way to the spot. We need to get there now before they fuck her up.” I glanced over at Axle and he looked up at me, his eyes haunted. “Sorry, brother, I wasn’t thinking.”

  “It’s okay.” He nodded.

  “Gauge, two miles south of the dam there’s a safe house. The Reverend’s men have Harlow, so put your foot down and get me there,” I growled out.

  �
�Motherfuckers!” Gauge roared from the front of the truck.

  “We’ll get her back,” Axle said, looking between me and Casa.

  “I’m going to rip the arms off any man that lays even a finger on my woman,” Casa ground out, his nostrils flaring. “Literally rip their fucking arms off.”

  “They thought she was Laney,” Shooter said, his voice filled with dread. “They saw her truck and thought it was my old lady. Went after her to get at me.”

  “What the fuck were they even doing out of the clubhouse?” Casa gritted. “Bitches should know better than that. We fucking told them to stay put.”

  “They’re both still new to this life. Probably didn’t realize how dangerous it really was,” I suggested, my tone angry. “When we get Harlow back, I’m going to fucking kill her for almost getting herself killed, though.”

  “Get in line,” Casa bit out.

  “Let’s just get her back in one piece, okay?” Shooter grunted.

  We all nodded in agreement and the truck fell silent. But our minds were a whole different story. Because every one of us was thinking of River and the way the Rev’s men had messed her up. And that was before we’d taken their prez…What would they do knowing we’d slaughtered their brothers and taken their president as our prisoner?

  We’d get Harlow back, but whether she’d still be breathing or not was a whole different story.

  Chapter Thirty-five:

  Harlow

  I coughed on the blood that had filled my mouth. One of the men—a tall, lanky, but incredibly scary-looking man—had stuffed something in my mouth, making it so I couldn’t properly swallow or even spit out the blood. I was unconscious when I had been brought in, and had woken up handcuffed to a bed. I had known then that my situation was worse than bad. It was dire, and the chance of me getting out of there unharmed was minimal if at all.

  I watched him pace back and forth, his movements jittery. I quickly looked down as he looked my way and he started to walk toward me. His cell rang and his footsteps stopped, and I looked up through my damp lashes to watch him.