The Riot (Hell's Disciples MC Book 5)

by Jaci J

  Dan and the guys are at the preplanned spot, and not where I need them.

  “Fuck no.”

  I knew there was something off about that goddamn prospect. From the moment that little cocksucker showed up, I felt it. Fuck, I knew it. He was just too fucking complacent, happy to take the shit we dealt. He was just too there and too willing.

  I should’ve listened to my goddamn gut.

  Glancing at my phone, I watch the little dot traveling north when it should be traveling west. That little fucker was just too eager to be the one to do the drop off.

  I feel fucking sick to my stomach.

  “How you wanna play this?” T asks, sitting next to me in the cab of my truck. The roads are too snow covered and iced over to take the bikes. We’re stuck in a cage.

  “I’m gonna kill him.”

  “Dan gonna be okay with that?”

  I don’t give a fuck what Dan is good with at this point. This is his fractured plan. A plan that’s putting Ellison in the thick of something she has no business being a part of.

  “Get ahold of Dan, let him know his plan has changed.”

  “Already it on it, brother.”

  “I can’t believe that motherfucker, pullin’ this shit. He’s gotta be stupid.”

  “Brother, you know what’s happenin’ don’t ya?” T asks.

  “Yeah. He’s a fuckin’ mole.”

  When you prospect, you’re pledging your life for a club, my club. It might be a trial run to see if you’ll fit in, but it’s a goddamn life sentence unless we let you go. He fucked up while wearing that prospect patch, and I don’t give a fuck what anyone’s gotta say about it, he’s gonna pay for his mistake.

  “I don’t give a fuck what anyone’s gotta say. You see him, you kill him, or I will.”

  “Yeah, brother. One right between the eyes.”

  ***

  We follow the little blue blip about twenty miles in the opposite direction we had planned. Any backup or help is thirty minutes in the opposite direction. Right now, it’s just Tyler and me, and that’s not gonna work if this goes the way I think it’s gonna go.

  “Park it. We walk in.”

  “You sure about that? Out in the open?” I question him. We’ll be some sitting ducks out in the open like that.

  “You rather we take a chance ‘n have ‘em hear us comin’? They’ll take off with her.” Walking it is.

  We leave my truck on an old locked logging road. Walking in about a quarter of a mile, I follow the blue blip on my phone. Service is spotty, but I’ve got an idea where we’re going.

  “Has the dot moved?”

  “Nah. It’s still sittin’.” Wherever the soon-to-be dead prospect has taken her, they’re stayin’ put so far. Good news for T and me.

  Through a small gap in the brush and trees, I catch a look at the car the prospect left in.

  “There.” I stop T with a hand across his chest. “Right there.”

  “The fuck is he doin’?” he whispers, watching the car.

  The car is just sitting in an open field in front of a small rusted out metal building. It’s on the Raiders or Ryders new or old club, so I don’t have a fucking clue what he’s doing out here with her.

  “Is it possible he’s rouge?” T wonders out loud. It’s something that’s crossed my mind, but makes no damn sense. Why Ellison? What the fuck would he gain from taking her?

  “No.” My gut is telling me he’s working with the enemy.

  “No.”

  Watching the car for a minute or two, I finally see movement. Someone’s still in the driver’s seat. Another body catches my attention.

  Michael.

  “Run up on ‘em?” I ask T, already pulling my gun and screwing on the silencer.

  “Do it quick.” The silencer might cut the noise for the most part, but out here in the dead quiet, you still might hear something. We have to be fast because I don’t have a single fucking clue what or who is in that rusted building.

  Handing the gun to T, he nods.

  Across the small clearing, I round the car at the same time T does with his gun drawn. Michael turns the moment I step up behind him.

  Face to motherfucking face.

  I don’t give him a chance to do a goddamn thing.

  Shoving the seven-inch Bowie into his pliable gut, he jerks as he falls towards me. “Fuck you,” I tell him quietly, twisting the knife. Satisfaction is the fear in his eyes as push in deeper. “That’s for fucking with Ellison.”

  Pushing Michael away from me, he falls to his knees, his body shaking before he’s on the ground on his side.

  I feel so goddamn good.

  I don’t want to feel good about it, but I do. So fucking good. Michael was my best friend until he joined the Raiders. Wanna know what his final job as a prospect was? Raping my little sister to fuck with me. Left her bloody and scarred on my doorstep years ago, something no one knows, net even El. I don’t like Jess, and the bitch is fucked in the head, but it’s his goddamn fault she is the way she is. No matter what, she’s my blood, my sister. He’s been fucking with El too. Using her and fucking with her head, and the shit stops with her. That’s my girl he’s messing with.

  There’s not enough space on this Earth for scum like him.

  Old friend or not, Ellison’s brother or not, the motherfucker had to go.

  T’s on the prospect the second I got my hands on Michael.

  Streaks of blood drip down the window. His holey head sags, slumped over against the glass.

  We don’t have time to celebrate or give a fuck, because someone is shouting from the trunk, beating on the roof from the inside.

  Tyler’s head whips around and we both stare at the trunk.

  Fucking shit.

  I don’t want to, but I have to. Wrenching the door open, I step back as the bloody prospect falls out, head first onto the ground. “Jesus.” Reaching in, I pull the trunk latch. The thing pops open.

  “Oh fuck,” T breathes, both of us going for the trunk.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  Ellison’s big red-rimmed eyes stare up at me. “It’s been a horrible fucking month,” she mutters around a broken sob. Her humor dies when she sees me. Her tears immediately start to fall, and regret starts eating at me.

  “Baby.”

  Wrapping my arms around her, I pull her to me, as close as I can get her, to shield her from the bloody mess by the front of the car.

  “Are you okay?” I ask her, checking every inch of her.

  Guilt. It’s everywhere.

  “I think so.”

  “I’m sorry. So fucking sorry.” Kissing her head, I breathe her in for a second to reassure myself that she’s alive.

  “It’s okay,” she whimpers into my chest. But it’s not. It’s not fucking okay

  Holding on to her, I walk her towards the edge of the trees, behind the thick of bushes, ready to get the fuck outta here when T stops me.

  “Rock, man, this ain’t gonna work.” It’s in his voice. I stop and look up to see two Ryders walking towards the car, their eyes trained on the dead prospect and Michael, guns in hand.

  We’ve only got minutes.

  I thought this shit couldn’t get any worse, but it just did.

  “Oh my God.” Ellison starts to shake, her eyes wide and scared. “Rocky?” Her eyes are glued to the prospect and the motherfucker’s not wearing Disciples cuts.

  I have two choices. Either shoot and hope we can outrun the rest, because where there are two Ryders, there are more. Or send Ellison running alone and hope like fuck T and me are enough to keep them distracted long enough for her to make it to the truck. Either way, there’s gonna be bodies, and as long as Ellison’s isn’t one of them, I can figure out the rest.

  It’s time I live up to all of those promises I’ve made her.

  “Ellison, look at me.” I need her attention, her full attention. This shit is real, as real as it gets.

  She looks up at me slowly, her eyes full of tears again
. I know what I have to tell is the last thread. Things are gonna start to unravel, but I’ve got faith in her. She can handle it.

  “You’ve gotta go, Ellison. Right now.” Her head starts shaking before I get the words out. She’s already disagreeing with me.

  “I can’t leave you here,” she whispers, horror in her voice.

  “It’s me or you, baby,” I tell her softly, easing the blow of my words. There can’t be both of us, not right now.

  “Come with me,” she pleads, tugging me towards the old logging road. Looking at T, she starts pulling on him too. “Both of you. We can outrun them. They haven’t—”

  “You have to go, and I can’t come.” I watch all hope die in her eyes. She knows.

  Shaking her head harder, she declares, “It’s me and you, Rocky. I can’t leave you here with them and live with myself if I do.”

  “Things have changed.” There’s no going back now.

  “Rock,” she whispers, pleading.

  “Ellison, just go,” T begs, pushing her away from me. My heart physically hurts watching her hang onto me, so unsure and scared. Tears roll down her cheeks like a waterfall. She’s breaking my fucking heart.

  “Come on. Don’t be fuckin’ stupid,” she growls, pulling on my arm again.

  “No, babe,” I tell her sadly.

  Looking up, I catch sight of more guys in cuts filing out of the building, and they’re all heading our way.

  “Get her outta here,” T says, his gun aimed across the clearing, pointed at a guy aiming right for T’s head.

  We’ve been spotted.

  FUCK!

  “Yes, Rocky! It’s you and me,” she yells, planting a fist on my chest.

  How do I explain to her that love is never sacrificed, it’s always saved. Those gutless promises that we’ve made for years are nothing but words. Worthless, empty words.

  “No. It’s me or you, and you fucking know I’ll always pick you.” There’s no question.

  Ellison

  Shoving the keys into my hand, Rock turns me away from him, my hands slip from his and I feel panic claw at my chest. No. My feet drag in the dirt, not wanting to move. I’m rooted. Stuck.

  “Go!” Rock yells, his voice hoarse and angry…so angry. “Now, Ellison! Get in the truck and get the fuck outta here.”

  I don’t want to let him go. I can’t let him go.

  “Rocky,” I plead again. There’s an expression on his face I’ve never seen before, and it looks a lot like fear. How? The man fears nothing.

  “GO!”

  Time feels like it’s standing still, blurring by around us.

  “Don’t look back. Don’t stop, baby.”

  I turn to leave, but make it nowhere. Looking back, Rock is watching me go as he walks backwards, towards the group of men, a gun in his hand.

  There’s silence as we both stare at each other. I can feel the warm tears rolling down my cheeks. My nose is cold and my lips are blue, but I can’t move.

  “Go,” he whispers, turning around.

  Please.

  He’s walking away from me. His hands are out in front of him, the gun limp. A guy with a gun laughs and looks at his buddy who’s laughing too. They’re laughing at Rocky.

  Rock and Tyler stand about five feet in front of the men before the guy with the gun points it at T and shoots him, hitting him in the leg. The blood rushes to my ears and I sway. Blood instantly stains his jeans, running into his boot. Tyler goes down onto his knees. My hand flies to my lips, stifling the sickened yelp threatening to come out.

  Rock doesn’t move, and neither do I. Behind a tree, I watch in complete horror and sickness as the guy hits Rock in the face with his gun. Rocky staggers back.

  I can’t believe what I’m watching. The unbreakable, the invincible man in my life is being cut down, one blow at a time. The man hits him again.

  I want to help, but know there isn’t a damn thing I can do. The only thing I can do is find Dan.

  Spinning around, I run directly into solid muscle. Squealing, my voice raw, I scream, “No!”

  “Whoa, there.” I swing wide, aiming for something important, only to be stopped short with a bear hug around my middle, locking my arms down at my sides. My breaths are coming in short labored pants. “Calm the fuck down.” The voice registers and I look up into a set of familiar brown eyes.

  Rampage.

  Behind him is Tank, Dan, and Buck. I’ve never been happier, or more scared in all my life.

  Rampage lets me go and stalks towards the bushes that surround the clearing with his gun drawn.

  Dan looks me up and down before nodding at Tags and Ben. “Get her back to the truck and get the fuck outta here.”

  “You have to do something. Tyler’s been shot, and some guy hit Rocky.”

  “We’ve got this. Get the fuck outta here. Get in the truck and get to the club. Pull in the shop, Mossy’s there with Tiny. Go.”

  I don’t have a choice, so I go. I don’t look back, even if it kills my heart and soul not to. I can’t.

  I leave my trust with Rocky and his brothers.

  He’ll be okay…he has to be. I can’t, nor will I, live without him.

  ***

  The worry is overwhelming and heart wrenchingly painful. It’s hard to concentrate. Functioning is difficult, and it’s near impossible to breathe.

  I sip the drink Sam poured me, trying desperately to keep my mind and hands occupied. Lennon meant well when she made me a grilled cheese, but it’s still sitting in front of me, cold and uneaten. I appreciate her effort, but there’s no way I could eat, let alone watch a movie with her, Sam, Lil and the girls. Instead, I’m sitting between Mossy and Tiny at the bar, listening to them jabber on about bike engines. Although, I’m suspecting their motor talk is more for my benefit than theirs. They’re concerned too, just nice enough not to worry aloud in front of me.

  The image of Tyler falling to his knees, and Rock taking hits to the face, keep replaying in my mind in vivid detail. Added to them are imagined unknowns that make my stomach crawl up my throat.

  The not knowing is the worst.

  I keep wishing I had told Rocky I love him, told him all the things I’ve kept bottled up inside all these years.

  Right now, sitting at the bar, I wonder what the hell I was so scared of all these years by running in the opposite direction of Rocky, when I should have been running right to him.

  “It’s gonna be okay,” Tiny tells me, setting a comforting hand on my shoulder as he gets up. “You want another?” I shake my head, but he frowns. “A refresh then. The thing has gone room temp by now.” The ice has melted from my drink, not that I care.

  “No, I’m good.”

  No one has called, and no one knows anything. Part of me is halfway to the door, ready to drive back to Rock and make sure he’s still alive and breathing. The smart part keeps me planted on the barstool, conjuring up all kinds of unhealthy ideas about what could be happening.

  It’s been two hours since I got back here, and I’ve heard bits and pieces. The other clubs wanted something the Disciples had majority over, and they were willing to do whatever it took to get it. I don’t know what it is, all I know is it took Rock away from me.

  “Try not to worry, girl,” Mossy grumbles. “This sorta thing always works itself out. They’ll be fine.”

  “Promise?” I don’t know why I ask, but I regret it the minute I do.

  “Can’t make promises like that, sweetheart, but I know my brothers never go down without a fight, and they’re all full of fight.”

  “Yeah, okay.” Throwing back the lukewarm drink, I fight off the tears. Things have to be okay.

  ***

  Hearing the rumble of engines, I’m off my seat and to the door in an instant. Stumbling my way through the door, my heart beats wildly.

  I watch the parking lot start to fill, and my heart claws up my throat. I’ve spent the last few weeks worried sick, and stressed beyond reason, but nothing compares to this moment
.

  I look for Rocky.

  Through watery eyes I search, but come up empty.

  Gutted. My body feels hollow and empty.

  “Where’s Rock?” I ask a man I don’t know. He shrugs and shoves past me.

  No.

  No.

  On shaky legs, I walk across the lot towards a few trucks mixed in with the bikes. At this moment, I wish I were religious. I pray, hoping beyond on all hope that someone answers my prayer. I promise things and I beg.

  Rounding the trucks, I see him. I sway, my legs going weak.

  “Rocky?”

  “Babe.” His face is bloody, and his hands look like shredded meat, but he’s breathing. He’s breathing.

  His face is stern, worn.

  I lose it.

  “Don’t do that shit, El.” His eyes soften and his voice loses it’s edge.

  “I-I, just, I just can’t help it. You’re okay.” I stutter over a sob. He’s breathing. Bloody, but breathing…he’s alive.

  “I’m okay, baby.”

  I throw myself at him. I hold him to me and promise myself I’m never letting him go. He’s stuck with me forever.

  Thirteen

  Stories

  Rock

  “Tell me everything.”

  We could be here a while if she wants a play by play, but I’m not gonna lie, a while sounds damn good right now. Forever sounds a lot fucking better than that though.

  No one is one hundred percent sure what the hell happened today. As usual, shit was a riot of people and a mess of fuckery. An ambush or a setup, whatever it was, ended in dumb luck for us. Took the Raiders and the Ryders out with only minor injuries. Somehow, shit just worked out in our favor.

  Worrying is not something I do well. I was sick with the shit all day, selfishly worried I’d never get to see Ellison again, never get to feel her or hear her voice. I can’t die. I couldn’t do that to her.

  Somehow, Dan and everyone were able to get to us. T and I gave ourselves up in hope to prolong it. A gun battle would have ended in seconds. I knew the bastards would want to drag it out and fuck with us, and it saved our asses. Dan got there in time.

  “Babe, you know about as much as I do.” That’s a lie, but why burden her with more shit. I promised myself I wouldn’t let this shit weigh on her.