by J. C. Allen
“I just feel a lot better just being away from that entire situation.”
That makes two of us.
“Well, you’ll never have to go back to that life,” I said.
“No,” she said sternly, “never again.”
“Agreed,” I said, and I had never felt so proud as when I saw the fierce look in her eyes.
“By the way, lover boy,” Roost said, interrupting my moment but with justifiable reasons. “We got good reason to believe that corner, where ya picked up the sweetheart here; that’s where Rock is holin’ up.”
I needed to hear no more. I patted the pistol on my side, looked for anything else—
And then Roost stopped me.
“Don’t think ya leavin’ first, ya twerk,” he said. “Ya too valuable to do somethin’ like this immediately.”
“The hell you talking about, Roost,” I said, even though I knew full well what he meant. “This is my battle. I’m not—”
But Roost held up a hand.
“You’re the last Knight of all of us. If you die, the Saviors go with it. I’m not sayin’ you never gonna fight again, but shit, at least let me do my job.”
“I am,” I said. “I’m helping you do it.”
A tense pause came.
“All due respect, Derek, ya got two choices,” Roost said. “You park ya ass right here, or I knock it out for ya. Ya gonna disappoint yer girl by doin’ somethin’ stupid?”
I knew he was deadly serious, too. I’d have a bruise and a concussion, but I’d be alive to experience those things. Whereas there, I had no guarantee of suffering much worse.
Still… this was my chance.
“What the hell changed?” I said. “You let me go and almost get myself killed at the fundraiser, but now you’re gonna keep me imprisoned here? Do I at least get a reasoning for my sentence?”
“I could say so much,” Roost said. “But all ya gots to do is look behind ya.”
I did, and Eve stood there, a nervous, slightly disbelieving smile on his face.
The message was clear—publicly, it was about protecting the Knight name in the club.
Privately? It was about Roost recognizing my real reason to live, no matter how recent or crazy it might have seemed.
I could have argued many things, but Roost more or less legitimizing my relationship—yes, I suppose that’s what we were now—was not something I could counter, most especially with Eve standing right there.
“Fuck it,” I said with a shoulder shrug. “Be careful out there, Roost. Don’t go get yourself killed.”
He hoisted a rifle over his shoulder, headed to his chopper, and left me with the most reassuring words he could have.
“Bitch, look who yer talkin’ to.”
28
Eve
It had been almost an hour since Matty had left, and I could see the strain growing on Derek’s face.
I had to admit that even I was worried. Granted, I hadn’t known Matty, or Roost—I preferred real names, especially since I’d just discovered Crystal’s real name was actually Tara—as long as Derek had.
But I’d seen a great sweetness in the man and an immense connection between him and Derek. I also sensed an enormous amount of competence and a great deal of confidence; Matty would not have left without complete confidence that he could accomplish what he intended to do.
As the minutes turned to hours, though I could tell that Derek was beginning to get restless; he was standing up from the desk and beginning to pace. I already could imagine the swirl of emotions in his head—he probably thought himself as a coward for staying here, a traitor for sending Matty on what sounded like a suicidal mission, and weak for not going with him. I didn’t have the heart or place to tell him it would be alright, because this felt like his mission for himself.
I was a mere spectator, reduced to watching as the man I loved tortured himself a thousand times worse than Rock ever would. And if I stepped in to alleviate that torture, he would only push me away and intensify the treatment he gave himself.
I really wished I could have done what Tara did, which was to pass out shortly after Matty left. I don’t know how she did it, but I swore that girl could quite literally do everything she set her mind to. It wasn’t true for many people, contrary to hopeful popular belief, but with Tara, when she wanted to do something, she got it done—probably because she set her bar relatively low and in this case, “what she wanted to do” was pass out.
She wasn’t oblivious to the stakes of what as going on, but she had a remarkable ability to compartmentalize it all the same.
At some point, Derek just threw his hands up in frustration, unable to take the uncertainty. I wanted to tell him to just call Matty, but I had this paranoid idea that his second-in-command’s cell phone would go off just seconds before sneaking up on Rock, ruining the element of surprise and ruining his chance at revenge.
But eventually, I could see Derek needed some sort of relief, anything. And the only thing that seemed appropriate was some sort of word from Matty or someone else in the Savage Saviors.
“Derek? Should you just call him? Maybe?”
He shook his head, running his hand through his hair. I’d seen him far angrier, but I don’t think I’d ever seen him so stressed in my life.
“No, if I do that… well, either it’s on silent and he won’t answer or it’s not and shit could just get worse.”
So exactly what I thought. I took an odd miniature amount of pleasure in effectively guessing the problem, as if I might be able to contribute in some small way.
“So, what do we—”
Derek’s phone suddenly began to ring.
He was on it in an instant. Please be good news. Please be good news. Please—
“Roost?”
The good news was the initial facial expression of Derek’s was one of relief, which told me that Matty was still alive. Everything else was fair game to guess at, but at least he wasn’t dead or in a hostage spot.
The bad news was that everything that followed was anything but.
“Fuck… FUCK! Huh? Yeah, yeah. I shouldn’t be long. Just hold on, okay?”
A moment later he killed the call and looked up at me. I already knew… I knew what that look was… and based on what he’d just said… he wasn’t telling Matty to hold on for an Uber to come…
“I have to go,” he said, starting towards the closet that Matty had gone to when arming himself.
No. No! You said you’d stay!
I hated that I had the selfish thought, especially with this particular situation. But I just couldn’t…
“Wh-what? But… Derek? What’s going on?”
My words had more anger and annoyance than I intended, which only made the talk in my head that much more frustrated. I wanted to lash out at myself, but it just became a vicious cycle where I internally cursed myself for bringing more stress to a man who had too much of it right now.
“It was meth,” he said, but he seemed to be talking to himself, too absorbed in his own world and his own upcoming mission to pay any attention to me. As he should. This is what he needs to do, Eve. “Fucking meth! I had a feeling they’d turn to some shit like that.”
Then, as if remembering that I was still in the room, he turned to me, his eyes burning with disgust and hatred for what Rock had done.
“They’re running a fucking meth lab in that apartment! And not the first one, either!”
My eyes widened at that, remembering all the times I’d come home to that weird smell. I’d thought for so long it was death… but meth brought about death and drama so easily, it might as well have been.
The devil wasn’t butchering in that room, but he was cooking, and the devil never cooked anything good for you.
My thoughts got broken up when Derek slammed a wall with his fist, though this one he held up on at the last second, perhaps conscious of needing his knuckles shortly.
“That’s why we could never figure out where he was opera
ting! Fucking Rock’s been leap-frogging from site-to-site. Never staying in one place long enough to…”
He paused and looked back at me, confusion on his face.
“You never knew he was there?” he said.
I shook my head. I hoped I didn’t come across stupid, but I really never had.
“He only stopped by a few times to make demands,” I said. “The Black Falcons owns the building, so the other rooms belong to a few of their other prostitutes.”
But then a more paranoid fear crept up—how long had Rock spied on us, watching Derek and I from afar? Just how close had I come to death? Was the man who was going to “tease me” with a knife actually going to kill me?
It really didn’t matter much now, because Derek could not be stopped. But I shivered and felt a very cold touch on my soul when I contemplated just how likely it was that my death—if not Derek’s as well—was quite imminent.
“I bet there’s other buildings like that; places they own where they shack up other prostitutes and whoever else they might be using,” Derek growled. “And I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a room in each one of those places that Rock’s secured as another one of his labs. That fuck!”
I bit my lip. Derek could’ve been taken out any day that he had come over. It would not have surprised me if someone had had a sniper rifle trained on Derek during his visits, held back only because he showed money at the right time. It would not have shocked me if I was going to be killed.
Rock truly didn’t have a use for me other than to make money. He’d ruined my family, my life, and until Derek showed up, my future.
Derek wasn’t the only one who had a vengeful mind. And between having saved him at the fundraiser, my knife skills at the motel, and the realization I was mentally in lock step with Derek in thinking about the night… I wanted to help.
“Derek…” I said.
He looked at me very carefully. I knew he was never going to give permission. But I was hoping that he would not fight me too hard if I forced the issue.
“I’m coming with you,” I said. “Rock has fucked me over too. I’d be dead without you. My expiration date would have come by now. I need to show him what it means when one of his whores kills—”
“Eve,” Derek stiffened, looked back at me, and shook his head. “No.”
His words had such finality and authority to them, I felt utterly compelled to obey them. Even as my mind and heart yearned to go with him, to protect him, and to get revenge for what I had done… he just spoke with such assertiveness that I felt like I couldn’t fight back.
“I can’t risk you. Rock’s out of his mind right now, and he’s hiding out in a functioning meth lab. Take it from a guy who’s been living on the edge of sanity for a while now. It’s an explosive enough problem without adding thermos-reactive chemicals to the mix. Okay? That place is nothing short of a time-bomb right now, quite literally, and my friend’s there…”
A word hung on his lips. I prayed—
“Trapped…”
Oh fuck. Oh no. Matty…
“Because I sent him there. If Rock gets it into his head that anybody is in yours and Tara’s place, then he’s likely to go in there shooting.”
He took me by the shoulders and shook his head. Did he not get it? Did he not realize I had no fear of shootings after everything I had seen?
Or maybe he gets it too perfectly, and for that reason, he knows if I go…
“That’s no place for anybody to be right now, but I can’t and won’t let Matty get killed for this. I have to go, but you’re staying here and that’s final.”
For a second, I backed down, taking a seat once more. I was a willing submitter to his orders, someone who would not question it.
But then the thought of Rock’s words, actions, and general terror came back to me. It reminded me of when I was back in that motel room, albeit with much less vitriol and danger. Then, I had submitted at first… but when the man pushed too far, and I had no choice but to fight, I fought like a soldier on her last legs.
And damnit, I could feel the same.
“You have to let me go,” I said, standing back up. “You going on your own, you’ll have no eyes on your back. You won’t have support. Let me go with you!”
And then I uttered a word that took my tone from combative to pleading and I instantly regretted it.
“Please!”
Derek’s face, one of combativeness, mellowed ever so slightly into gruff empathy. But still, he shook his head.
“I can’t, Eve,” he said. “You’ve never been trained in combat. You got out twice, do you really want to risk a third time?”
I hated that he was right. I fucking hated it.
Yes, I’d gotten out of two life-or-death situations, but the first one was more about Derek escaping than me. Which really meant I’d escaped one situation through quick action and some luck. And that was against someone who had no plans to kill me in as violent and gruesome a manner was Rock would.
Suffice to say, logic sucked sometimes.
I just… something screamed inside of me that if I let him leave, I’d never seen him again. I couldn’t risk him leaving on his own. I couldn’t lose him this soon.
I was in love with him. The realization struck me and I looked up, feeling even more desperate to not let him leave me. The best thing that had ever happened to me had come into my life and freed me from the curse of Rock… and now, if I let him leave without me, that curse would come back and ruin it for both of us.
At least if I went and Derek died, I’d go down with him. I wouldn’t have to live without him.
But that was precisely why Derek would not let me go with him.
“Eve,” he said, putting his hand on my chin.
For the longest time, we just stared. It felt like both of us were on the verge of saying those magical three words. I wanted to say it, but seeing that Derek might say it first, I didn’t want to make it awkward by having us both say it and then stopping short. I wanted us to say it fluidly and together.
Say it, Derek. Say you love me.
He leaned down, capturing my lips in his. I tried desperately to not just submit to his kiss. Something was wrong.
I kissed him back, not even realizing that I had begun to cry. After a moment, Derek pulled back. I noticed that he, too, had wet eyes.
Just say it, Derek. Please. I’ll say it too.
No words came. Still, our eyes lingered.
I’d had enough.
I opened my mouth to say those words.
And then Derek turned, moving to the door of his office without warning.
“Derek!”
I moved to catch him, but he moved too quickly. He slipped through, gripping the knob and yanking the door closed before I had a chance to make it through.
Click.
I knew exactly what that sound meant. I knew exactly what had happened. I knew what this meant for the rest of the evening.
He’d locked me and Tara inside.
“DEREK!”
I banged on the door. I couldn’t do this! I couldn’t be the princess rescued from the streets, kept in a cage because I was made of glass. I had to be the heroic sidekick, the one who was there to assist Derek when he needed it most.
I couldn’t… no… this wasn’t fair…
“Dammit, Derek! Let me out! Derek! Derek! Please…”
I paused, blinking, reminded myself that I was in a Saviors office and not in the hands of Rock or any Black Falcons. There was no death in here with me, only Tara and the safety of thousands of bullets and guns. There could be no better place than to protect life than right here.
But I couldn’t shake the feeling that, if I didn’t get out, there’d be death out there for the man I loved.
But the door did not open.
Whimpering, I gave the door one last futile slap before falling to the floor, sobbing. I’d let him leave without saying “I love you.”
And now, he was almost certainly
going to die.
“Please!”
29
Derek
I truly felt terrible about leaving Eve behind.
I’d made a promise to her that night, that very night, not to leave her. I’d proved to be a man not to be trusted with that move, and now I’d locked her in against her own will.
But as much as she might hate me, as much as she might have wanted to help me, there was no chance in hell that I was going to let her come along with me.
Why the hell would I? I didn’t want Roost to go, even though I allowed him. Fuck, if not for Rock being there, I didn’t want to go there myself. Guns, meth, fire, and death were four things that were all but guaranteed to happen there. And given that Roost mentioned that he’d already cornered himself in the meth lab, waiting for Rock to come by… but having no way to escape, given Rock’s cronies nearby, I had to go alone.
Best case, we were outnumbered about six to two. Worst case, Roost had one shot to make it work and then he was dead. If he failed, I had to go in, quite literally guns blazing—I might die, but I’d be willing to take Rock down with me. Sorry, Eve. But Rock’s death will give you the freedom you need. And you need freedom more than you need love—you’ll find someone else if I die.
Even though thinking that made me strangely jealous of a man that didn’t exist—the man who would later win Eve’s heart if I died—I chose to believe it was an honorable thought.
I gunned my chopper down to the very apartment I’d picked Eve up, thinking about how interesting a contrast this was. I’d gone from wanting to come to this place to see Eve to coming here to kill. This had gone from seeing my angel to now seeing the devil of my life. What was once heaven—or at least home to a member of heaven—had now turned into hell.
And I, Derek Knight, rode in on my trusty steed, respite with weapons to kill.
May this go well.
Dad.
Dustin.
Mom.
Maggie.
And daughter…