MINE: Fury Riders MC

by Sophia Gray

  When he got to me, he put his hands on my upper arms, offering me a squeeze of comfort. I smiled a little shakily at him, but did feel better for the gesture.

  There were voices coming from downstairs. One was definitely Ma’s, but the other I couldn’t recognize. It was a man’s voice, though. It was impossible to hear exactly what they were saying from here, which seemed to frustrate Ciaran. He motioned for me to be quiet and follow him. I did so as carefully as possible.

  He went to the door. Thankfully I hadn’t closed it behind me once I entered the room, so we didn’t have to worry about what sounds it might make pushing it open. I winced a little when the hinges creaked as he moved it a little wider for us to slip out. We both paused, but it didn’t seem like anyone downstairs had heard us. We started moving again.

  Ciaran moved down the hallway, staying low to the ground as he crept towards the staircase leading below. I followed him, praying I didn’t catch the one floorboard that was going to give us away. We made it to the top of the stairs, but because the stairs were behind the bar, we didn’t have a view of the door. Which was good in some respect, because it meant whoever was at the door couldn’t see us either.

  Painfully slow, we crept down the stairs. Every so often there would be a sound and Ciaran would freeze. I would nearly tumble into him, but catch myself just in time. Then we’d take another two steps.

  Finally, we made it to the first floor, coming up right behind the bar. Remaining crouched low, we shuffled behind the bar, using it as cover as we rounded the corner where we’d be able to see whoever it was if we straightened up. I had thought that was the point, to see who was there, but I noticed Ciaran didn’t even try to look over the counter. Instead, he went for something beneath the counter.

  My eyes widened when I realized it was a large shotgun.

  Carefully he picked it up. I realized that from here we could hear the conversation between Ma and our visitor.

  “Shouldn’t be here, boys,” she told whoever it was sternly. Boys. Must be at least two of them, then, I thought, but remained silent. “This is Skulls territory.”

  I frowned. Skulls? What was she talking about? I glanced questioningly at Ciaran, but he wasn’t looking at me. Instead, he was checking for something else beneath the shelves. He pulled out a box of shells.

  I continued to listen to the conversation.

  “Not for long,” a man answered her with a sneer.

  “Easy, Mick,” said a second voice. “Look, Ma—”

  “That’s Mrs. Sullivan to the likes of you,” she said coolly.

  “Mrs. Sullivan,” the man corrected. “You don’t need to be like this. We’re just as Irish as the Skulls, you know that. Hell, it’s your own boy who—”

  “You listen here, you thugs,” said Ma in a voice that was feminine but oozed danger and reproach. I could imagine her jabbing her finger into their chests, eyes narrowed and body squared off as though ready to fight. She was that tough. “Shane decided he didn’t want to be my boy the moment he went against his brother! That makes him and you both no blood of mine!”

  There was a long pause and I could feel the tension filling the silence. Finally, the second man said, “Where are they, Ma?”

  “I told you, it’s Mrs. Shane to you boys.”

  “Don’t be difficult, old lady,” said the first man, Mick. “We don’t wanna have to rough you up.”

  She laughed. Despite the threat in their words and voices, the old woman didn’t seem in the least bit afraid. She was made of stouter stuff than I was, that was for sure. I got Ciaran’s attention and pointed towards his mother. He had paled, but nodded. Carefully, he opened the barrel of the shotgun and starting sliding in the shells.

  But the conversation didn’t stop. “I’ve earned the right to be as difficult as I want. Any of you boys live that long, you’ll earn it, too.”

  “Let’s go. He ain’t here, and she’s too damn batty to know anything anyway,” said Mick, clearly not happy to have been laughed at.

  But the other man didn’t seem as sure. There was a long pause, then, “You sure Ciaran ain’t here? With a pretty little brunette? Real looker.”

  I felt my body stiffen. Me. They were looking for me, too. But why? Why were these men looking for either of us? What was this about Irish and Skulls and territory? And who the hell was this Shane guy?

  “I haven’t seen no one,” Ma answered firmly. “As you can see, the bar has been closed for more than a few years. I’m not in the business of opening for anyone. No exceptions.”

  The man’s voice lowered until I couldn’t make out what he was saying. I was straining to hear, trying to make it out. That was when two things happened. Ciaran snapped the shotgun back into place, fully loaded, and a shot rang out in the entire room. My eyes widened and I hopped up until I was standing at the bar, looking at the scene at the same time that Ciaran jerked himself up and aimed the shotgun.

  I might have tried to stop him from shooting if I didn’t see the old lady lying on the floor, dead, blood pooling around her.

  Another shot rang out and this time it was from right next to me. I looked over at Ciaran, wild-eyed and panicked. He was yelling something, but I couldn’t hear any of it. The shots had temporarily deafened me until all I could hear was that ringing sound in my ears. The rest of the world might as well have been silent.

  But I could see what was happening.

  Ciaran had pulled the trigger and shot the man who held the gun. I didn’t know which of the two he was. But it wasn’t a shot to the head or chest or whatever. Instead, he jerked back in surprise, clutching at his shoulder. The second guy pulled out another gun and pointed it towards us. More specifically, towards me.

  I thought I screamed, but couldn’t be sure. I was staring at that gun when Ciaran threw his weight against me, tackling me to the ground. More shots rang out, shattering glass behind us and pouring down liquor from the bar. Ciaran said something to me, but my ears still weren’t processing what he was saying.

  Finally, frustrated, he grabbed my arm and jerked me forward, making me move away from the men with guns. We didn’t go back up the stairs, but instead headed out from the bar towards a door I hadn’t noticed before. An old exit sign was above it, but it was faded and unlit.

  Another shot came out way. We ducked behind a wall, but the shot went through the wall. It just barely missed Ciaran.

  He shoved me through the door harshly. I lost my footing and fell into the snow right outside the door. He followed me a second later, once again gripping my arm and jerking me to my feet. We ran like death itself was after us—and that wasn’t very far from the truth.

  I thought we were going to be stuck on the streets again, running and hiding, but Ciaran surprised me by shoving me into the cab of a beat up old truck. I was about to ask if he could hotwire it or something, but he didn’t have to.

  He had the keys.

  To my surprise, the truck roared to life and we spun out of there just as the two men were bursting through the door where we’d just exited.

  They shot after us, but it was pointless. Their aim was terrible and we were moving quickly out of their line of sight. I’d never been so terrified and so grateful in my entire life. Somehow, we’d made it out alive.

  But Mrs. Sullivan hadn’t.

  Chapter 11

  Ciaran

  I drove her to my house, because I’d never managed to get ahold of the boys and I was quickly running out of places to go. It wasn’t like I could just drop her off at the bus station and hope no one spotted her on the way out. And maybe my house wasn’t the best of ideas, but Shane didn’t know exactly where it was since I’d made the move recently and it was far enough out of town that maybe we’d be safe up there. At least for a little while. If I were lucky, I could get ahold of someone in the Lucky Skulls, get a plan going, and take care of everything. And hopefully I could get Elle to stick it out here while I did that.

  When I pulled the truck up around the back
of the house, I parked beneath the carport where there was only a little bit of snow around the edges. I turned off the engine and glanced at Elle. Her hair was drying thanks to the heater and had started to curl into soft waves, the ends forming small curlicues. The dress made her look vintage, from another time where the good guys always won and everyone knew exactly who the bad guys were.

  “What?” she asked, her voice soft and scared. “Is someone here, too? Are we safe?”

  I could hear the fear in her voice, but there was sadness, too. I realized she’d mistaken my lingering in the cab as a sign that there was danger. I shook my head. “No, everything’s fine. This is my house and it’s pretty out of the way. No one’s going to find us here.” At least not for a while.

  She let out a shaky breath of air, but nodded, putting all of her trust in me. It was almost unnerving the way she was willing to do that, but I was grateful. It made everything easier.

  Making sure I had the shotgun with me, I led her to the house, which was pretty big considering I was a full time bachelor and spent half my time out of the house. It was two stories with a basement. Two bedrooms, one extra room I used for weights, a kitchen, living room, den, and utility room. The basement had the washer and dryer as well as an additional exit via outside cellar doors. I enjoyed the space, though there were times when it was just too much for one person. Even so, right now I wished it were smaller. After being shot at and followed by Shane’s men, after what happened to Ma.

  I shook my head. I couldn’t think about her right now. The image of her body lying on the floor in a pool of her own blood was too damn much. That was the woman who raised me. Who cared for me when no one else gave a damn. She wasn’t my blood, but she was more my mother than anyone else ever had been or would be. I owed her everything, and now she was dead.

  It ate me up inside and made me want to just sit down. To crumple and say fuck it. To have a moment where I could grieve.

  But I didn’t have those moments right now. I had to get Elle to safety, regroup the Lucky Skulls, and somehow stop Shane—because now I knew he couldn’t be reasoned with. After all, Marie Sullivan had raised him, too.

  I took her into the house and quickly bumped up the thermostat. I kept it pretty low while I was out, so the house was chilly, but it was still better than outside. “It’ll take a minute for it to kick in,” I told Elle. “But I’ll make a fire.”

  She nodded, hugging herself tightly. For warmth and for comfort both.

  I stacked several logs into the fireplace there in the den, then scrunched up some newspaper for kindling. I struck a match and the fire lit instantly. It took a second for the logs to catch, too, but when they did they burned brightly. When the fire was glowing steadily, I got up and went to the couch that was facing the fireplace. There was a knit throw blanket laid across the back of it; I grabbed that and threw it about Elle’s shoulders. She looked startled, like she’d forgotten I was here.

  “Oh God, Ciaran,” she muttered. Tears were forming in her angelic blue eyes. Reaching for me, she wrapped her slender arms around my waist and buried her face in my chest. I was surprised, but embraced her easily, stroking her long brown hair. “She’s dead. I can’t believe…how could they just…?”

  “Shh,” I told her gently. “It’s okay.”

  She pulled back from me. “Okay?” she demanded, her eyes wide and her expression incredulous. “How can you say that? She was your mother!”

  And that was when the dumbest thing ever slipped out of my mouth. “Not my biological mother.”

  Horrified, Elle took a step back from me.

  Realizing just how terrible that sounded, I shook my head and tried to clarify. “That came out all wrong. I mean, she didn’t give birth to me, but she was more mom than someone like me ever deserved. She was the sweetest damn woman.” I stopped because I felt a lump forming in my throat. I wasn’t the type to lose my shit over anything, but this was Ma and I wasn’t quite sure what to do with this. “I just meant that Ma took a lot of people in. Even when they didn’t deserve it. And some of them didn’t turn out so well. She knew the risks…and that doesn’t make any of this better.”

  Elle’s expression softened as sympathy welled in her eyes. She stepped back towards me, reaching out to lay a delicate hand on my arm. “I’m so sorry. She seemed like such a sweet woman.”

  I nodded. “She was.”

  I didn’t want to talk about her right now. Couldn’t. “Listen, why don’t you sit by the fire and I’ll see if I can make us some food? I need to make some calls anyway.”

  Elle frowned at me for a moment, then glanced towards the burning fire. There was intense need in her eyes and it was clear she wanted desperately to go to it. But she hesitated. “You’re going to call the police?” she questioned.

  I blanched. “Police?” Why the hell would I want to involve them?

  “Yeah. To tell them…what happened.” She hesitated. “With your mom.”

  My throat tightened, but I swallowed several times to clear it. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Why not?”

  I shook my head. “It’s complicated.”

  She folded her arms across her chest, the fabric of her dress tightening across her breasts, which were already straining. She was definitely more endowed than Ma had been in her youth. “Tell me, or I’m going to call the police myself.”

  That is definitely not a good idea.

  Sighing, I realized I was going to have to give her something. People were shooting at her. Someone was dead. She needed something to keep her together. Running a hand nervously through my hair, I decided there were pieces I could give her, and pieces I couldn’t. “What if I told you the police wouldn’t be very helpful?”

  “Why not? Someone’s dead, Ciaran! Stopping those crazy men is their job!” Elle protested.

  I winced. In a black and white, perfect world, that would be the truth. But mine was full of gray truths. Shane was the bad, but I was no hero. I wasn’t sure anyone would call me the good guy, even if Shane was the bad. But I needed a reason to explain all of this to Elle without making her want to head for the hills. Mostly because there was no way she was getting out of here without one of Shane’s men spotting her now.

  Finally, I said, “The man who sent those men, his name is Shane McCarthy. And he’s my brother. Adopted, just like me.”

  Elle’s eyes went wide with disbelief. “And he just…just killed her like that? In cold blood?”

  “He was never quite right,” I told her, and that was true. Pa had favored me, yes, but it was because Shane had always shown the wrong kinds of signs to Pa. He’d sensed something off in him. “But Shane also didn’t do it himself. He sent one of his guys, who apparently didn’t care who she was.”

  “That doesn’t explain why you don’t want to go to the police,” she pointed out. “I know he’s your brother, but if he’s okay with murder—”

  I stopped her there. “That’s not it. He needs to pay. There is no avoiding that now. But going to the police is…risky.” Because they’ll probably arrest me, too.

  “Why?” Elle demanded again.

  “Because Shane has guys working for him. Guys in the police force.” It was the truth and I suddenly felt stupid for not going to that in the first place. What better reason to not trust the police?

  Elle frowned, looking more worried than ever, but she looked convinced, too, which was definitely a good thing. I needed her to understand that it was a bad idea to go to the police. That way she wouldn’t try something stupid on her own if I wasn’t around.

  “Why…” She shook her head and tried again. “What do you mean that he has guys in the police force? Why would your brother have guys at all?”

  I had the feeling that she was starting to put together some things and they weren’t all kosher. She was probably sensing that normal people living stand up lives as law-abiding citizens weren’t usually shot at, and they definitely didn’t refuse to ca
ll the police.

  Letting out a sigh, I accepted that I’d have to tell her more. “I told you I knew he wasn’t quite right? Well, Pa knew it, too. It meant they weren’t as close as Pa and I were. That made Shane angry. When Pa passed, those emotions came to a head and a rivalry sprouted up overnight. One that’s been going on ever since.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “Oh my God,” she said, her eyes wide with shock. “You’re part of the mob, aren’t you? The Irish mob? That’s a thing, right?”