What Might Kill Us

by M. N. Forgy

  Shadow slides onto a stool next to me, shifting his small ass around.

  I twist the glass of whiskey in my hand, avoiding eye contact.

  “You carrying?” Shadow finally speaks.

  I jerk in reaction and look his way. What kind of fucking question is that?

  “Of course.” I’m always packing heat. Being president of The Devil’s Dust, your enemies are always close by.

  Before I know what’s happening, Shadow pulls my cut open and yanks my gun from my waistband.

  I stand, pissed. Feeling disrespected. Two important rules to live by if you want to keep your teeth in my club.

  One, don’t touch another man’s bike.

  Two, don’t touch another man’s gun.

  It’s that simple.

  “We’ve been doing this for years, Bull, so how’s it going to go? The easy way, or the hard way?” Shadow asks, keeping completely calm as he grabs my drink and takes a sip. Biting my bottom lip in thought, I close my eyes. A feisty redhead full of curves flashes behind them, a woman that once made my colorful life not seem so dull.

  I tear my lids open and inhale a shaky breath.

  He’s right, we do. Every year without fail. Today is Babs’ birthday and it never gets easier. Babs wasn’t my old lady, but she should’ve been. I should’ve torn her away from this world and ran away with her.

  But she didn’t belong to me. She was my old vice president’s property.

  I wanted her from the moment I saw her, so I made her mine in the only other way I knew how.

  In doing so I broke club law, yet I didn’t give a fuck. I slept with her behind another member’s back.

  That curvy ginger got to me and I can’t for the life of me forget her. I loved my life before Babs. I had money, respect, my club, and women coming at me from every corner. But then Babs walked into my life and I realized I hadn’t really been living at all. That none of it was worth shit without a woman by my side. I ended up falling in love with a woman that wasn’t mine, and that bitch karma made me pay the price by taking her from me.

  A pat on my back takes me from my hell and I find Shadow urging me toward the doors.

  “Come on, let’s get you home. If Dani found you like this, she’d lose it,” Shadow informs.

  I freeze. The look in Shadow’s eyes hitting me the wrong way. He used to look up to me, fear me, and respect me. Now all I see when I look in his eyes is sympathy. He feels sorry for me and I hate that feeling.

  Nobody should feel sorry for me. I deserve this anguish.

  I pull from his grip and harden my stance, my hands balling into fists.

  “Fuck you, Shadow. I’m fine, I don’t need your help,” I bark, shoving him off. I puff my chest out, ready to beat his ass. I’m not a vulnerable guy, I don’t wear my emotions on my sleeve, and I sure as hell don’t need my son-in-law to fucking babysit me.

  His face goes red, his head lowering.

  “Fine? You think this is fine?” He points at me. “You’re a fucking mess, Bull. You have been since Babs passed away.” He turns away from me, shaking his head. He’s never been one to let anything slide. A straight shooter and I respect him all the more for it. “You need to step the fuck back and find where it is you’re going, and what you want, brother.”

  I step forward, getting in his face. He snaps his cold blue eyes in my direction.

  “This club is what I want. I gave EVERYTHING for this club. Yet when I sit at the end of that goddamn table I feel like something is missing. Don’t you think I’m trying to find that something, son?” I ask bluntly. “Do you not think I’m tryin’ to set myself straight?” I tap my head, the place where my demons taunt and terrorize me. “I’d do anything to be me again.”

  Shadow sucks his bottom lip into his mouth before shaking his head with a small smirk fitting his face.

  “Then maybe it’s time you step away from the gavel, Bull. Because whatever you’re looking for, it ain’t here, brother.”

  My eyes widen and I’m not sure if it’s from his tone or the fact that he might be right.

  “Over my dead fucking body,” I say grimly and push past him to step outside, the sun hot and blaring in the sky.

  Looking over my shoulder I find Shadow talking to the bartender and paying off my tab.

  The sound of screeching tires around the bend catch my attention, a young Mexican woman running for her life is about a block away. Her dark hair flings back and forth behind her. Her face red and sketched in nothing but pure terror as she sprints across the sidewalk. She’s wearing a dirty pink dress and no shoes, her feet biting into the pavement so fast it looks as if she’s flying rather than running.

  I furrow my brows in concern, and as she nears her eyes widen with a sense of relief when she notices me.

  She smacks right into me, her hands clawing at my leather vest. Her whiskey colored eyes staring at me like I’m her fucking lifeline.

  “What’s going on, darlin’? Talk to me,” I state, wrapping an arm around her back. She’s drenched in sweat, the smell of honey wafting around us.

  She tries to speak, but can’t catch her breath. She’s so scared, and small. My protective instinct kicks into high gear and my need to whisk this girl away and into my bed becomes my main priority.

  I cup her face, her eyes setting on mine. “Breathe, you’re alright,” I whisper, she exhales a shaky breath, her eyes never leaving mine.

  Her lips part as she places her hands on top of mine. The feel of them entwining between my fingers making me feel something I can’t fucking place.

  She’s gorgeous and to have her climbing me like she is feels so fucking good I become lost in those glossy eyes. So unfocused that I don’t realize the truck has caught up to her.

  The passenger side door opens and two men wearing green bandanas grab at her. My eyes widen with recognition at the emerald colors wrapping around their heads.

  Her arms and legs flail everywhere as she screams in Spanish. I try to grab onto anything my fingers will latch onto, clutching her dress in my desperate attempt to save her. The fabric rips in between my fingers, and in the next moment she’s tucked in the back seat of the truck.

  Two men point guns at me trying to keep me in place, but I don’t falter in my attempt to grab at the woman.

  “Fucking drop it!” Shadow demands, coming up behind me gun raised and aimed.

  The men seem unfazed as they slam the doors shut and drive off.

  Just like that the truck takes off down the road, exhaust and the smell of perfume the only evidence this ever happened.

  Stepping into the road I catch the plates.

  “What the fuck was that?” Shadow asks, watching the truck race away.

  “I don’t have the slightest clue, but I want you to find out,” I pant out of breath.

  “Did you see the bandanas?” Shadow questions and all I can do is nod with a tight lipped smile.

  A few years back our club was attacked, killing Babs and leaving me in anguish. Not to mention nearly one of my men. The gang that was behind it was wearing those green colored bandanas. It was their insignia. I thought the gang died off when their leader Augustus did, but it appears I was wrong.

  Screaming as loud as my lungs will allow I kick and scratch anything that comes into contact, praying someone will hear me and call the authorities. I didn’t escape and get this far only to be brought back to Texas.

  Two of Alvaro’s men tackle me, one digging their knee into my back and pressing me into the seat as they tie my hands behind my back painfully. My face bites into the unforgiving leather seat, causing my cheek to burn from its friction.

  The other man attempts to place a green bandana in my mouth to muffle my cries and I roll my lips onto one another refusing to cooperate. He growls and digs two of his fingers into my jaw, the pressure so great I have no choice but to open my mouth on a loud cry as he shoves the cloth into my mouth with so much force my lips sting, before stuffing the bandana so far into my mouth I gag.r />
  Alvaro turns in the front seat, looking at me with snake-like eyes. His dark hair slicked back and face calm.

  “Hermana, you leaving me baby?” he asks with such coldness I want to cry. The term sister making me cringe.

  My hair blows into my face from my harsh breathing blowing through my nostrils, but I don’t attempt to respond. I close my eyes, the biker that I ran into flashing behind my closed lids. I should have kept running.

  Alvaro grabs my chin and jerks it upward, making me look him straight in the eye.

  “You’re mine, Anahi. There is no escape for you,” he informs before nodding to one of the men. “You can’t run from me, because I will always find you.”

  I pull from his grip, my nostrils flaring with rage.

  I look over my shoulder as far as I can only to find one of his men, the one with the beard holding a long needle, the syringe filled with something to succumb me to their mercy.

  “Just a little something to make the ride home easier,” Alvaro croons, and I begin to break out in a nervous sweat. He jerks my skirt up, and pries my panties down over the mound of my butt cheeks.

  I struggle against my restraints, the tears I was trying so hard to fight now spilling freely from my eyes so hard I can barely see.

  The needle pierces my ass cheek and instantly my world becomes woozy, my heart slowing its chaotic pace.

  “I have to give it to ya, I thought I’d find you a lot sooner,” Alvaro chuckles. “My best drug dealer being gone a week has our sales down tremendously.” He caresses my cheek and my eyes roll in my head from the sedative. “I hope you got this out of your system, Anahi because if this shit happens again, I’ll fucking run your ass over next time,” he threatens before pushing my head away in disgust.

  My lids become so heavy, painting my world in velvet darkness.

  The next day

  Blinking rapidly, I quickly open my eyes. The room is blurry at first, before it comes into focus along with a pounding headache.

  My body is strewn across the mattress, my head and arm hanging off the bed. London groans, rolling herself on her side. Fuck, when did that happen?

  London is a sweet girl, who has the sexiest fucking British accent I’ve ever heard. I met her at a bar three months back. Four drinks later, I brought her back here and she hasn’t left since. She’s very closed off, doesn’t say much, mysterious and standoffish. Which is fine because I only to want to fuck her.

  She’s not a club whore though. Those girls pass themselves around the boys without remorse. London only sleeps with me.

  I don’t love her, not at all. It’s just about the sex between us.

  Groaning I pull myself up, my body shaking with the need for another drink. I swallow, my tongue feeling like sandpaper in my mouth.

  I nudge her and her eyes flutter open.

  “You gotta go, you know I don’t like you staying over,” I inform dryly. Staying over means weird things to girls, things I don’t want with her.

  “You called me at five in the morning, Bull. What did you expect?” she replies, half asleep. I shake my head, not able to recall much from last night.

  Reaching down, I help her up to her feet, the smell of expensive perfume making my head hurt worse.

  “Get your shit and go.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to ease the fucking explosion in my head as I hand her a white silk top.

  She glares at me, pulling it over her head.

  “How long are we going to do this?” That thick British accent makes my cock hard immediately.

  “We’re not, and for the love of fucking God just shut up.” I hold my hand out at her, trying to get her to stop talking, for each word that comes from her pretty little mouth makes my head throb.

  A knock sounds at the door just as I managed to stop rocking back and forth.

  Bobby walks in and London shoves past him, expensive boots clicking along the wooden floor.

  She’s very different from the girls around here. She’s classy and has money. Why she is fucking with me is beyond me.

  Bobby watches London walk by, before bringing his eyes back to me. Bobby is my road captain, and is probably the biggest pain in the ass I have. He’s youthful and always looking for trouble.

  “Fuck man,” he clips in disgust, looking away quickly.

  That’s when I notice I’m stark fucking naked. Shit, when did I lose my clothes? I don’t even know how that was possible last night as fucked up as I was.

  I don’t even try to cover myself, serves his ass right comin’ in here like he owns the place.

  He scrunches his nose.

  “You smell like pussy, brother.”

  I rub the back of my neck, my eyes falling on my cigarettes. Leaning down I grab them up off the floor and pull one out using my lips.

  “You going to stare at my dick all mornin’ or you got something else to say?”

  “Just came to tell you we got a hit on those plates you wanted us to look into,” Bobby informs.

  I’m instantly awake, my eyes widening. I haven’t been able to get that girl out of my head since I ran into her. The gang that took her was too much of a coincidence to ignore.

  “Yeah, I’m coming,” I grumble, and Bobby ducks out of the room. Looking for my boots, I kick something under the bed. The unmistakable sound of a whiskey bottle skids along the hardwood floor and my heart jumps in excitement. I close my eyes and sigh. I’m not sure if I’m relieved that I found a bottle, or upset that I’m a slave to the alcohol.

  Bending down I look under the bed and find the bottle with about a shot and a half left. Swiping at it, I grab it and pull it out. Undoing the top, the aroma of sweet oak and alcohol greet me a good morning.

  Closing my eyes, I tell myself I don’t need it. To walk away and make today the day I get my life back together. Make it the day I move forward instead of living at the bottom of a bottle.

  My mouth waters thinking about the warmth splashing down my throat, and like the weak motherfucker I am, I give in and press the opening of the bottle to my lips and drink it all.

  Wiping the back of my mouth with my hand, I toss the empty bottle on the bed. Getting dressed I look all over the room for my boots, coming up empty.

  “You gotta be fucking kidding me!” I shout angrily, tired of looking for the damn things.

  Knowing I’m already late for church I give up and leave. Closing my door behind me, I find a trail of my clothes all the way down the hall, including my boots. I must have peeled everything off one by one as I made my way to my room. You’d think I was some chick drunk on tequila, not a fucking outlaw.

  Sitting at the table I slam the gavel down, gathering everyone’s attention.

  “The other day a young girl was being chased down the street. She ran into me and when her captors caught up to her they were wearing green bandanas. Could be nothing, but the men that killed Babs and shot Bobby used the same insignia,” I inform the table. “I got the license plate number so we could inspect further, and it seems we got a hit.”

  “I made a call to Zeek and had his sheriff girlfriend run the plates for us,” Lip informs. “He said the truck belongs to an Alvaro Antonio, has been pinned for multiple drug related charges. Zeek says he thinks that guy is a part of the Mexican Cartel who are setting up shop on the other side of the border in Texas.”

  “Why does he think that?” I shrug.

  Lip chuckles. “Because he used to get drugs from them, but after they heard he was screwing a sheriff they told him to take a hike.” Everyone laughs. We all knew they would lose their contacts when everyone got wind of who Zeek was in bed with.

  “Anyway, he said he could get you the location, but it’ll cost you. He wants you to bring back gear and sell it to him,” Lip states, using the slang term for drugs.

  I look amongst the men curious what they think. “All in favor?” I ask, and everyone says aye.

  “So who is going down there?” Shadow asks, picking at his fingers like this is no big
deal.

  “Me,” I answer flatly. Everyone’s eyes snap to mine as if I’ve lost my mind but I refuse to stay here. The look in that woman’s eyes is seared into my head and I can’t stop thinking about her. Maybe it’s because I can’t stand to see a woman in pain, maybe it’s because the thought of this fucking Cartel running amuck makes my blood boil.

  Either way The Devil is coming to that fucking town and wreaking havoc.

  “You need someone to go with you Bull,” Shadow informs casually. “So I’m going too.” He peers up under his lashes, his face serious.

  “You’re my VP. I need you here in case something goes wrong,” I state.

  “You’re fucking crazy if you think I’m just going to sit back and let you go fuck with The Cartel on your own.” He stands, his face red. His temper much like mine. The fuse is always lit; it just takes one thing for it to ignite.

  “I’ll go with him.” I glance to the back of the table, curious who said that when Kane’s eyes meet mine. “I’ll go,” he repeats.

  “No offense, but you’re a prospect,” Bobby laughs. Being a prospect means you’re still learning the ropes, and aren’t a fully pledged member yet. They still have to show what they can bring to the table, and how far their dedication to the club runs.

  “Despite me not having a patch, I’m loyal and the man for the job,” Kane shrugs, Bobby’s insult not affecting him any. “If it’s on the other side of the border, then I’m your man. I know that area like the back of my fucking hand.” Kane lifts a brow.

  I don’t know much about Kane, he’s quiet and ominous. In fact, this is as much as I’ve heard from him since I made his ass a prospect.

  If he comes and delivers his expertise, he’d be a valued asset to the club.

  “Fine,” I reply, exasperated.

  “So it’s settled. Kane and Bobby go,” Shadow informs, standing as if it’s a done deal.

  “We need more men than that,” Bobby shakes his head, not seeing eye to eye.

  “You think they’re stupid? If this whole club rides into their territory, they’re going to get spooked and then any chance of us walking away with anything is grim,” I inform and he nods in understanding.