Eye for an eye (The Nighthawks MC Book 5)

by Bella Knight

  Table of Contents

  Book 5

  Recap from Lost MC Book 4

  Assassination Time

  Moving Forward

  The New Normal

  Captivating

  Loss

  About the Author

  Afterword

  Eye for an eye

  The Nighthawks Motorcycle club

  Bella Knight

  Book

  5

  Edited by

  Natasha Lind

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  Contents

  Recap from Lost MC Book 4

  1. Assassination Time

  2. Moving Forward

  3. The New Normal

  4. Captivating

  5. Loss

  About the Author

  Afterword

  Recap from Lost MC Book 4

  Assassination

  “Take your next steps in life; move forward or get run over.”

  Lily woke Ace up. “Umpf,” he said. “What?”

  “My brother texted me,” said Lily.

  “What does he want?” Ace rubbed his eyes, realizing he wasn’t getting more sleep.

  “He’s been sober. Apparently, somewhere with the Northern Paiutes.”

  “They’re all over northern California, northern Nevada, Idaho, and Oregon. Good place to get him out of the way.”

  Her brother Devlin, two years younger, had gotten into alcohol and drugs. He’d stolen drugs from Big Mike and Leticia, the heads of a drug-running gang called The Deuces. Ace had insinuated to Leticia that Devlin was dead; it would not be a good idea for him to come back to Vegas. Ace had gotten Devlin into a spin-dry facility to get him sober, and then Henry had arranged to take him someplace far away.

  “He wants to make amends,” said Lily. “He may be an idiot, but I love him, and I have to hear him out.”

  Ace sighed. “Even if he’s using again?”

  “If he were using again, he’d be looking for money and giving me some sob story.”

  “Good point,” said Ace. “When and where?”

  “He’s near Tonopah at a rest stop.” Tonopah was a small town halfway between Las Vegas and Reno.

  Sighing, Ace sat up and reached for his jeans that were on the back of a chair. “I’ll text Ivy. She’ll have to do my job.”

  Ivy texted back that she would close the bar and come with them. They dressed quickly and were soon on the road.

  They met at a pancake house and had apple pancakes, bacon, and orange juice.

  “You alright?” asked Ivy.

  “Not really,” said Lily. “If he’s sober, that’s the best I can hope for.”

  They made good time. The bus stop wasn’t busy, a few trucks off in the distance. Ivy went for water from a machine while they met Devlin.

  Devlin looked rugged, tough, with actual muscles. He wore a cowboy hat, a faded blue shirt, and torn jeans.

  “May I hug you?” he asked, in a gravelly voice. Lily didn’t answer; she just hugged him.

  Lily held him, then let him go and stepped back. “Looking better, brother.”

  “Been working on fences, found out more about cows than I wanted to,” he said. “Not a life I would have chosen for myself, but it’s good.”

  “How you getting back?” asked Ace.

  “I’ll call. Guy who brought me is meeting family.”

  “Good,” said Ace. “I know you want to talk to my wife. I’ll get us some sodas.”

  “I heard you were married,” said Devlin. “That’s cool. You deserve to get treated better than how Dad and I treated you.”

  “What is your… program, I guess,” asked Lily.

  “Narcotics Anonymous,” said Devlin. “And the other one too.”

  No one saw where the shots came from. Ace went down first, throwing himself across Lily. Devlin fell away from them, his body jerking, a look of shock on his face. Lily tried to scream, but her breath was crushed by Ace’s body on hers.

  Ivy came running. “Ace!” she screamed. She kept her head down, but no more shots were fired. There was a squeal of tires.

  Ivy dialed 9-1-1 and started yelling into the phone about rest stops and mile markers and shooting. Lily ran her hands over her husband’s body, feeling blood pulsing through her fingers.

  “Baby,” said Ace. “You shot?”

  “Don’t think so,” she said, trying to put pressure on the wound with one hand and get her shirt off over her head with the other.

  “Ivy,” she said, “Get him off me. I’ve got to get to…” She looked behind her, swiveling her head about. Devlin was sprawled on the ground, head out. “Devlin!” Lily screamed.

  Ivy pulled Ace off, taking off her own shirt and rolling it up, pressing it into his shoulder. She used a finger to speed dial and called out the mile marker to Henry. He said someone would be there fast.

  A guy in a pickup drove up. A second guy hopped out the other side.

  “We can get you to the hospital faster,” said the driver, a brown-haired, skinny guy covered with tattoos. “Jasper, the ambulance driver ‘round here, is clear on the other side of the city.”

  Ivy and the men grabbed Ace and hauled him to the truck. Lily finally was able to turn her head and shoulders to see her brother. She started crawling for him, then she saw his empty eyes staring at the sky. She hauled herself up, and stumbled toward the truck, toward the one she loved that was still alive. She didn’t bother trying to get into the cab. She climbed into the bed of the truck, shaking uncontrollably. The door closed, and Lily grabbed the side and held on.

  They were in the hospital driveway before Lily was able to stop shaking. The doctors came out with a gurney. They took one look at Lily, covered with blood, and a big guy in scrubs the size of a house picked her up and put her in a wheelchair.

  “Where are you hit?” he asked.

  “I’m not, I don’t think,” said Lily. “Someone
shot my husband.”

  “Who?” asked the guy.

  Ivy slid out of the truck after the shorter friend of the tall guy. “A dead person walking,” she said.

  “Take your next steps in life; move forward or get run over.”

  1

  Assassination Time

  “Sometimes people assassinate the mind. Others gun for the soul.”

  The hospital was bright white; from lights, to walls, to sheets, and very small. They had Ace in surgery before Lily had time to do more than say his name and say that he had no allergies. They took Lily in to look her over. Ivy texted Henry where they were, and said that Devlin’s body was by the side of the road; a body with answers as to who killed him and shot Ace. Ivy filled out pointless paperwork and sent out a 9059, which meant to go on lockdown. They were to protect the children, and set up a command center.

  An Iron Knight showed up, two fully charged burner phones in one hand, and a bag with sweatpants and T-shirt in the other. “Freddy,” he said. “I play hockey.”

  Ivy snorted. “Thank you,” she said. She barged into Lily’s examination, making the doctor start, an older man with a mustache and ice-blue eyes.

  “You can’t just…” said the doctor.

  “This is my pregnant sister,” said Ivy. “Her brother was just shot directly in front of her. You better not have given her any medications.”

  “I told them not to,” said Lily. “I also told them I was pregnant. They tried to give me a shot anyway.”

  Ivy rounded on the doctor. “You what?”

  The doctor held up his hands. “She’s in shock!”

  “And she’s confused about being pregnant?” Ivy asked. “Get the hell away from her. She wasn’t shot, and you’re an idiot.” The doctor humphed, but quailed under Ivy’s glare. He mumbled about having other patients, and left.

  Ivy pulled the curtains all the way around. “Clothes,” she said. Lily grabbed the bag and pulled off her bloody clothes, and pushed the bloody ones into the bag.

  Ivy took a phone and sent out the 9059 again. She immediately got a call from Gregory. “Ace is down,” Ivy said. “Shot in the shoulder, so he should be okay in the end. Devlin, Lily’s brother, died instantly.”

  “He was shot in the head,” said Lily, clearly. “They may not have been shooting to kill, or have meant to kill Devlin and only wanted to wound Ace.” Tears streamed out of her eyes, unnoticed.

  Ivy repeated the information to Gregory. She reached out and dragged Freddy into their little makeshift room when Lily was fully dressed.

  “Get with the police. Don’t know if they’ll be local or Highway Patrol. Probably Nye County. Find out who’s got the body. We need to know whatever they learn, yesterday.” She held up her phone with Gregory’s number displayed on it. “This is Gregory. Report to him and to me.”

  “On it,” Freddy said, putting Gregory’s number into his phone. He then started making calls.

  She rang Gregory as she spoke to Freddy. “Who’s that?” asked Gregory.

  “Freddy. Local Iron Knight, hockey lover.”

  “Good to know,” said Gregory. “Setting things up here. Keep us in the loop.”

  “Will do,” said Ivy, then hung up.

  “Where do we wait?” asked Lily, standing up.

  “That’s my girl,” said Ivy. She handed her the other phone with one hand and opened the curtain with the other.

  “Gun!” said Freddy. He had his Colt .45 out, and got off two shots. One guy fell to the ground; gun falling on the floor, a Glock.

  Ivy dropped both the phone and the curtain, shoved Lily back, and took out her own gun from the pocket holster. She got off two shots at the other shooter, one through his shoulder, the other through his neck. The gun in his hand, another Glock .45, fired as he went down. Ivy ducked, and she heard the ping of a ricochet.

  Ivy looked down, holstered her gun in her back holster, and turned to see if Lily was all right. There was a crimson hole in her belly. Ivy picked up Lily, and ran through the door marked “Surgery.”

  “Open surgical bay?” she screamed at a black man who was dressed in green scrubs and a camo-printed surgical cap.

  He pointed to the left and ran to open the door for her. “Lay her down here,” he said. He looked at the wound. “Gut shot. Nancy! IV! Now!”

  A nurse came barreling in the room. “Doctor Vanta?” she said. She reached for a needle kit.

  “Lily is pregnant,” said Ivy, “and her husband was also shot; he’s in the other surgical bay.”

  “We’ll get this done,” said Doctor Vanta. “Now, get out and find out who is shooting up my hospital.”

  “On it!” said Ivy. “No one gets into this room without your clearing them,” she said. “I’ll see to it personally.”

  “I’ll need Kelley and Quinn,” he said. “They’ll show you ID.”

  “Okay,” said Ivy, and went out in front of the door.

  Two people in surgical scrubs ran into a glassed-in room next to the surgical bay. They started scrubbing their hands.

  Ivy opened the door. “You Kelley and Quinn?” she asked.

  “Doctor Athena Quinn and Surgical Nurse Zach Kelley,” said the tall, black woman with green eyes. “I know you’re on a 9059, but I can’t show you my ID without scrubbing in again, and your friend doesn’t have the time.”

  “Good enough,” said Ivy.

  “What the fuck is a 9059?” asked Zach, still scrubbing.

  “Don’t worry about it,” said Athena. “See you on the other side,” she said to Ivy.

  “Don’t fuck it up,” said Ivy. Athena nodded, and Ivy closed the door.

  Ivy stood halfway between the surgical room door and the scrub room, her eyes tracking the hallway, including the security cameras. She moved her ankle gun to her pocket holster, then leaned against the door. Her eyes roved, scanning the hallway.

  A cop came around the corner and pointed a gun at her. “Stop right there!” he said, his voice cracking.

  He was in his twenties, but he looked like he was still in high school; thin and reedy, with a prominent Adam’s apple. He wore a brown uniform, and had so much equipment strapped on that it must have weighed nearly more than he did.

  “I am standing here,” said Ivy. “Why are you pointing a gun at me?”

  “Are you kidding me?” he shouted. “You shot a guy! In front of patients!”

  “Guys who shot my friend in there. They shot first. Now, holster your weapon and… Quit. Pointing. It. At. Me.” Ivy gave him a flat stare. He visibly recoiled, the gun wavering.

  A new, flat voice called from down the hall. “Put your gun away, Avery. She’ll give me the gun she shot the bad guy with for ballistics testing, without you.” Her voice grew very, very sharp, “Pointing a loaded gun in a hospital, right outside two surgical bays where they’re operating on patients.”

  Avery still pointed the gun at Ivy, but didn’t look at the woman coming up behind, although he recognized the voice.

  “It’s Xenia,” she said. “Nice to meet again.”

  “You’re not the boss of me!” said Avery, in his quivery voice.

  Ivy snorted. Xenia laughed, and the sound wasn’t pretty. “No, but I fuck him sometimes, and I promise you this, I am going to show him the tape where you draw on a woman that is just standing in a hallway. Then you wave your gun around like a rookie. It’s idiots like you that shoot dogs and victims at crime scenes.”

  Avery holstered his gun. “You’re under arrest,” he said, taking out his cuffs. Ivy snorted again.

  Xenia stepped forward. “I’m claiming jurisdiction. The initial murder happened on the highway. The attempted assassination happened as fruit from the first tree. So, go away now, Avery,” she said, waving her hand. “Shoo.”

  Xenia had stepped forward enough that Ivy could see Xenia take out a plastic evidence bag used for ballistics. Moving very slowly, Ivy took the gun out of her back holster, took out the clip, and dropped the gun and clip into the bag. Xeni
a put the bag in a case by her feet and then took out a GSR pad. She carefully wiped Ivy’s right hand. Then, she used another pad for her left hand. She put the pads away in her special box and stood.

  “I’m good,” she said. “The shooting’s all on camera. You got the guy after he shot the patient.”

  Avery stood there. “You’re not arresting her?” His voice hit the stratosphere.

  “She’s helping the ATF and the DEA,” said Xenia. “If you want to piss them off, be my guest. I know for a fact Homeland Security is keeping an eye on this mess, too. The two that got shot today are shooters for hire, Tonio Munoz, and Benvedio Marcelos. Both Texans, way away from where they were supposed to be.”

  “Then she needs to be under arrest,” said Avery. “She’s a witness!”

  “Are you still here?” asked Ivy, giving him a flat stare. “And I’m pressing charges against you for your pointing a gun at me when you didn’t have one pointed at you. You also never identified yourself as a police officer. I hope you have a great lawyer because all of this is on camera. What’s your badge number?”

  “I have it,” said Xenia. “I suggest hiring Eddie Flores. He’s a great attorney, and he’s had Avery here do the same thing to him. Already warnings against this sort of thing in his jacket.”

  “Really?” said Ivy. “What’s his number?”

  Avery spluttered. “Xena!”

  “Xena is a fictional warrior princess. Xenia is the goddess of hospitality, generosity, and courtesy; things you apparently know nothing about. And, it’s Sheriff Xenia Hill, while you are soon-to-be Ex-Officer Marcel Avery. Now, please leave.”

  Avery kept spluttering, but he eventually left, looking over his shoulder as if Ivy would draw on him at any minute. Xenia called Security to make sure all the hospital footage was held for the Highway Patrol and, most likely, the DEA and ATF. The alphabet soup of letters made the security guard vow to send all the raw footage immediately; including the hallway footage, to the Nye County Sheriff’s Office, and to specifically not release any footage to the Pahrump Police Department.