Brooks (Dirty Misfits MC #1)

by Rylan, Savannah

  The gun. I need my gun from my hutch.

  Gage had taught me many things while we were married, and one of those things was how to defend myself. I knew how to combat every punch, every kick, and every move someone made toward me. I also knew how to get out of a lot of compromising positions, like if someone had me pinned to the floor. I also knew how to shoot just about every gun he had access to. Gage taught me how to take them apart to clean them, how to shoot with accuracy, and how to conceal them so no one who came over saw just how many guns I kept in my place at any one given moment.

  And the closest gun was the pistol I had in the hutch.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” the man growled.

  Something wrapped around my ankle before my leg yanked back. And when it did, I went crashing to the floor. I braced for impact, catching myself on my hands. But his other hand gripped my other ankle before he flipped me over. The bootsteps of his friends came closer to my opened door. This man wiggled his body between my legs and pinned my wrists above my head.

  “Aren’t so strong now, are you?” he asked.

  I snarled at him. “Think again.”

  I locked my legs around his waist and rolled him over. Only, the hallway was pretty narrow, so I ended up slamming his back against the wall. It knocked the wind clear out of him and I was able to wiggle away, but I still had to get around the corner into the kitchen for the hutch.

  I need a closer fucking gun.

  I scrambled to my feet and took off in a dead sprint, but someone grabbed the hem of my dress. The fabric tore as I ripped away, feeling the dress sliding off my shoulder. I threw the hutch doors open and pulled out the pistol, then whipped around and aimed it directly between the eyes of the man that thought he could get the best of me.

  And when his two buddies rounded the corner, I pulled a second gun out from the open hutch drawer and aimed it at them.

  The big honcho chuckled. “Cute. He must’ve taught you how to defend yourself.”

  I cocked both guns. “Yeah, against men like yourselves. Now, why don’t you calmly tell me what the fuck you want.”

  The two guys behind him patted him on the back, trying to get his attention. But he shrugged off their touches and took a step toward me.

  “Is he here?” the man asked.

  I blinked. “Is who here?”

  “You know exactly who I’m talking about, little girl. Where is he?”

  Is he serious right now? “Gage is dead, but you know that. So, who the fuck are you talking about?”

  The man grinned wildly. “Brooks. Where the fuck is your other little side piece of a man? I know he’s here. I know he wants so desperately to see you. So, where are you hiding him?”

  “He… desperately wants to see me?”

  He cocked his head. “Seems like I have your attention now. But don’t think for one second that I don’t know he’s here. I know he is, even if you don’t know he’s here. So, where the fuck would he be?”

  I wrinkled my nose. “That statement doesn’t make any sort of sense. Try again.”

  “Where is he!?”

  I took a step back. “I don’t know! I haven’t seen the man since before he went to prison, for crying out loud!”

  His two buddies pointed their guns at me as their head honcho walked closer. I held my breath and swallowed hard as I aimed my guns directly at his gut, ready to take him out with one pull of both triggers. The man’s abdomen pressed against the barrels of my pistols as he leaned in close. So close, in fact, that I smelled the booze on his breath.

  “You’re lying,” he hissed.

  I shook my head. “I’m really not.”

  He pointed at the guns. “Ever killed someone, sweet cheeks?”

  “Don’t you dare call me that. That nickname was for one person, and one person only.”

  He chuckled. “Sounds like a plan, sweet cheeks.”

  I tightened my fingers against the triggers. “You’ve got one last shot before I leave you bleeding on my kitchen floor. Tell me why you’re here and why you want to see Brooks.”

  He licked his lips. “After you answer my question. Have you ever killed someone, Miss Raven?”

  I winced. “No. Not yet, anyway. Though, you’re very close to being the first.”

  He chuckled. “It’s cute, you know, how tough you think you are. I know differently, though.”

  “You don’t know shit about me.”

  “I know you still have feelings for Brooks even though you shacked up with his best friend.”

  “I do not.”

  He smirked. “You’re cute when you lie, but it kind of makes me want to hit you. So, try not to do it again, otherwise my fist might just find its way to that pretty little jawline of yours.”

  I scoffed. “I’d have you dead on my floor before your fist got in front of you to try.”

  “Which brings me back to my original question, sweet cheeks. Killing a man always sticks with you. His lifeless eyes always haunt you. The smell of blood never leaves your nostrils, and once you realize the kind of power you have with killing someone, the lust for it never goes away.”

  I grimaced. “You’re disgusting. Brooks isn’t here, and he never will be. I left that life behind a long time ago. I don’t even associate with that club anymore. Not since they got Gage killed.”

  He blinked. “Is that what you really believe?”

  I paused. “Is that not the truth?”

  Just as that man narrowed his eyes at me, I heard gunshots outside. Three distinctive pops that sent the men flying back out my front door. I let loose the breath I had been holding and I slid to the floor with tears rushing my eyes.

  Is that what you really believe?

  My guns fell from my hands and I dry-heaved onto the floor. My entire body quivered as more gunshots rang out, but they didn’t phase me. Nothing phased me anymore, except for that.

  Except for the notion that those literal assholes knew something I didn’t.

  I heard tires skidding against the pavement. It kicked up the smell of burnt rubber that slowly pulled me from my emotional frenzy. I heard a bullet bury itself into the outside of my townhouse and it pulled me from my dizzied trance, so I got up from the floor. I took both of my pistols with me as I sprinted for the front door and slammed it closed, locking it for good measure.

  Then, with both of my pistols at my sides, I peeked out the window to see what the hell was going on.

  All the while, wondering what the Dirty Misfits had kept silent from me regarding Gage’s death.

  Because despite the disgusting nature of the jerks that had just been in my house, my questions caught him off-guard. My statements caught him off-guard.

  And in a shocking moment of revelation, that man had given me the first key to unlocking what really happened to Gage that night.

  Nine

  Brooks

  I inched my way through the shadows, wanting to get closer as I swung my throwing knives around the tips of my fingers. I wished for a fucking gun, but that was what I got for not going home first thing. Granted, all of my guns were probably locked up in the clubhouse vault so no one could use them, but still.

  You’ve got your knives. You’ll be fine.

  So long as the three of them didn’t start shooting me at once.

  I watched the interaction as I crouched behind a car at the corner. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but I saw Raven’s face plain and day. And it was very clear to me that she wasn’t in cahoots with these assholes. She put on a brave face, sure, but I’d known her for years.

  And her eyes told me she was scared out of her mind.

  I slid four of the throwing knives into my left hand and poised my first one with my right. One false move, and that man would have a knife slicing through his fucking spine. Or maybe I’d take him out at the hip so he couldn't run. Or maybe I’d get a clean shot of his knee.

  The knee is always a good place to start.

  I watched the man attempting to inser
t himself into her home and it made me rage. But she did a good job of stopping him. She kept herself planted in the doorway of her townhouse, preventing him from shoving past her. She had to be strong to take on a force like that because these men weren’t small human beings.

  Then again, Gage always used to talk about how he taught Raven how to defend herself. And shoot guns. And fight people twice her size.

  I just hoped she remembered all that he taught her.

  I slid my fingers into my pocket and pulled out my cell phone. I figured it was probably dead since it had been in evidence for the past five fucking years, but maybe I’d get lucky. I tore the cell phone out of the bag and pressed the power button, praying with all my might that it would turn on.

  And even though the phone was at fifteen percent, it fucking turned on.

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  I had all sorts of updates and notifications, and it took so long to filter through them that it ate up five percent of my battery. Nevertheless, I still had my old conversations from what seemed like ages ago, and Porter was right at the top.

  “Please have the same number,” I murmured.

  I shot him off a quick text, telling him to get to Raven’s as soon as possible, that it was an emergency. I didn’t want to say anything more, though, just in case someone was looming over his shoulder. I didn’t know who to trust right now, and until I got to the bottom of that night, the only person I trusted was Porter.

  And after the message was sent, I turned my phone back off.

  When I looked back up, though, I saw Raven trying to close the door in the man’s face. And when he slammed his hand against it, I knew I’d had enough. I aimed my first knife down my sights and gave my arm the clearance it needed, then I launched it across the expanse of the parking lot.

  And I fucking missed.

  “Are you kidding me?” I grumbled.

  Everything happened in such a flash that I almost reacted on instinct. That man somehow got Raven back into her townhouse and she fell completely out of sight. I heard them scuffling inside and I wanted nothing more than to run in there and beat that man to death with my bare hands. But his crazy goons on their bikes aimed their guns in my general direction and started shooting.

  Though, they didn’t seem to have the faintest clue as to where I was perched.

  During the first pause in the gunfire when the men reloaded, I peeked above the hood of the car I crouched behind. I sent a knife flying in the air and the pointed end jammed itself right into one of the men’s left arm. He groaned in pain as his magazine tumbled out of his hand and I ducked back down before the other guy could spot me.

  Then, the gunfire started back up again.

  Raven grunted and yelped in the townhouse. My heart clenched in my chest as the sound of a bike engine revved way off in the distance. I waited until the gunfire coming my way ceased once more, then I stood up from behind the car and threw two of the knives I still had at the man reloading his gun again.

  And I didn’t see any other magazines on his hips.

  “Gotcha,” I growled.

  I watched as the first knife pierced the air, slicing it like warmed butter. The first knife grazed his neck right by his jugular, and blood spilled down his neck. The other knife, though, jammed itself directly into his bicep. Preventing his dominant arm from moving around and doing anything.

  Then, the other guy on the ground reached for a gun.

  I aimed my last knife down my sight and waited for the right opportunity. I lined up my shot, watching as the man scrambled for his gun. I counted to three inside of my head before drawing in a deep breath. And when all the sounds around me faded into the background, I launched the knife through the air.

  And watched it sink straight into the man’s shoulder.

  “Fuck!” he cried out.

  “You stupid motherfucker!” the other one shrieked.

  I dipped back down behind the car as the sound of a bike engine roared heavily from the main road. I watched from beneath the car as the man from Raven’s townhouse raced out, his eyes widening as he took stock of the two goons that were supposed to be keeping watch. The motorcycle I heard off in the distance grew steadily closer. The revving of the engine told me help was on the way. And while I knew the police were going to be called by the neighbors sooner rather than later, I wanted to check and make sure Raven was okay before I got the hell out of dodge.

  And I smiled wickedly as those three asshats leapt onto their bikes and sped off.

  Two of the men pulled my knives from their bodies and tossed them to the ground. So, I scrambled up from the pavement and collected them. The sound of the motorcycle engine that I thought was Porter brushed by the townhouse complex, and I wiped the blood on the knives off onto my jeans just in case those pussies turned back around. I stood in the middle of the parking lot and waited for a few seconds, listening as their three bikes faded away while they raced down the main road.

  Then, I turned toward Raven’s front door that was now closed.

  I saw people poking their eyes and noses out around their curtains and it sent a shiver down my spine. If someone called the police and pegged me at this crime scene, I’d go straight back to prison without any hope of parole. So, I booked it toward Raven’s place. I leapt onto the sidewalk and took another gigantic leap onto the porch. And after knocking on her front door, I drew in a deep breath.

  “Raven?” I asked. “It’s me; Brooks. Are you all right?”

  A shadow moved away from the frosted window and I braced myself. Was she going to open the door? Would she leave me standing out here until the police came?

  Is she going to call the police herself?

  I knocked again on the door, but this time I used the knock she was familiar with. Two big knocks with my fist before a slew of fluttering knocks with nothing but my knuckles. I sighed as I wore my arm out knocking on that damned door. I needed to get somewhere safe. I needed to get out from beneath prying eyes that could place me at this particular scene.

  Then, the doorknob finally turned.

  But the door still didn’t open.

  “Raven, I swear it’s me. Can you please just open up so I know you’re all right?”

  The door cracked open, but I didn’t see her beyond it. Almost as if she were standing behind the door, but making way for my voice.

  Better than nothing. “Did he hurt you?”

  Her voice finally sounded, and it warmed my soul. “No.”

  “Are you hurt? Or bleeding?”

  She cleared her throat. “No.”

  “Did he—I mean did he try to…”

  She opened the door a bit more. “He didn’t have me pinned down for long before I flipped him over. Knocked the wind right out of him.”

  I grinned. “‘Atta, girl.”

  She sniffled. “What are you doing here, Michael?”

  No one ever called me by my first name. No one ever dared to address me as such. But for some reason, hearing my name on Raven’s lips had always been a treat. Like a fine dessert after a rich meal.

  I let my eyes close as I devoured the moment before I spoke. “I’m checking up on you, and I’m glad I did. Any idea why those idiots were here?”

  And when she sniffled again, I realized what happened. She wasn’t physically hurt; she was emotionally hurt.

  So, I pressed my hand against the door and opened it the rest of the way.

  Ten

  Raven

  While I tried to watch the chaos outside through the frosted glass beside my front door, I couldn’t see much. I knew I needed to call the police, but for some reason I couldn't bring myself to do it. I knew way too much about club business anyway. And I knew that if they wanted to evade the police, they would. Calling them would only put a target on my back, and the last thing I needed was to be a woman living alone with a target drawn across her forehead.

  But one by one, I heard groans of pain.

  I didn’t hear too many gunshots, thoug
h there were some after that man dashed out of my townhouse. There was another sound I couldn't place, though. It almost sounded like a whooshing sound. Like something rushing by or whatever. It didn’t make sense, though.

  What kind of gun made that sound?

  I listened as a motorcycle off in the distance grew closer. Were there more Black Flags coming? Were they going to come take me away? I’d heard horror stories over the years of people running into those idiots at the wrong time. I’d heard of their disgusting dealings with women and drugs from Gage all those years ago. It was one of the many reasons why he wanted me to be able to protect myself.

  Because while he wanted to be with me twenty-four-seven to protect me, he knew he couldn’t always be there.

  And whenever he was gone, I was essentially a sitting duck.

  Still, everything happened so quickly that I almost didn’t register it. There were gunshots, then that whooshing sound a few times, then that motorcycle sound. I didn’t know who came and went, but when I heard three distinct bikes rev their engines, I knew those men were about to get the hell out of dodge. I backtracked into my place and retrieved a pistol. I placed the other one back into the hutch before going back to my front door. And as I stood there with my hand on the doorknob, I braced myself to shoot whoever decided to come barreling through my front door next.

  I drew in deep breaths through my nose to steady my breathing. It was a technique that Brooks taught me, actually. He said whenever he felt nervous or unsteady, three deep breaths in through his nose always helped to settle his nerves. I watched my trembling hand as it gripped the pistol and I drew in one massive breath.

  And after I let it out, I drew in another one.

  And another one.

  And yet another one, just for good measure.

  I watched as my hand slowly stopped trembling. I watched as the tremor ceased to exist as my heart wound down its frantic beating. I swallowed hard and closed my eyes, bracing myself for what came next. Because surely, my neighbors had already called the police.