Texas Hold 'Em

by A Parker

  Tex would lose his damn mind and make a mistake.

  No, I thought, tightening my grip on the throttle and giving it more speed, I can’t crash.

  I’d lead the cruisers away to buy the men time, and I’d circle back, leading the cops back to Bates once the battle at the landfill wound down. If someone needed my help, I could get them out of there or I could warn them. The cops would only chase me for so long before they headed back to their master.

  It would all be about timing.

  I grinned into the night.

  We’d pulled off a psychotic plan last night. Why not tonight, too?

  Chapter 37

  Jameson

  Bullets flew.

  Caroline screamed orders at her father’s men. “Get him in the fucking car! You! Move your fucking ass. He’s hit! He’s hit! Moss!” Her wild blue eyes landed on her enforcer, who stood several feet from me, his right leg still leaking from the hole I’d shot through his thigh. Caroline pointed at me. “Kill him.”

  The frenzy around us threatened to distract me, but I kept my attention on the immediate threat—Walter Bates’s enforcer, Moss.

  He was a dark-featured, wicked-looking man. He wore armored riding gloves, so a punch from him would hurt like hell. And if he hit me in the ribs?

  Well, I’d jump that bridge if I got to it.

  Caroline hurried after her father as he was half dragged to her SUV, and she shot a murderous look over her shoulder at me.

  I grinned at her. Why not piss her off a little more?

  Moss charged. I met him with fury. Down below, I could hear Mason barking orders at the MC, and I worried that meant Jackson was out of commission. As Moss’s fist flew toward my jaw, Sam’s face flashed in my mind.

  I had to get Jackson home to her.

  I dodged Moss’s fist and drove my knee into his thigh, right where the bullet was wedged in muscle. He screamed, staggered back, and clutched at his bleeding leg.

  I shook out my arms and rolled my shoulders. “Let’s go, fucker. It’s you and me.”

  Moss met my gaze, and while he sized me up, I did the same.

  Several weeks ago, he’d kicked the shit out of Mason, and Mason was a hell of a fighter. Jackson and the others needed me, so I couldn’t afford to let this asshole walk away from this fight in one piece. I already had the upper hand because of his bum leg, but letting that give me false confidence would be a mistake.

  In order to come out of this alive, I had to assume he had more in his arsenal, and a bullet in the leg wouldn’t slow him down.

  Moss spat on the gravel. “You Devils are all the fucking same. Scrappy. Desperate. Pathetic.” He laughed. “Do you really think you’re going to get out of here alive? The police are on their way. Your President is probably face down in the filth somewhere, bleeding out, destined to join his brother six feet under. It’s about time someone put you scum out of your fucking misery.”

  He’s trying to provoke you. Stay calm.

  “What are you trying to achieve here? Look around?” Moss held up both hands and gestured at the mess. Behind him, several Wolverines closed in on a beat-up old truck, where I could see my brothers hiding in the shadows, bracing for a shootout. “You can’t win. You never could. Bates just likes to play with his food.”

  “You sure like the sound of your own voice, don’t you?”

  Moss flashed me a smile. He had the look of a man who wasn’t quite there. I could see the whites of his eyes framing each iris, making him look deranged. His fingers flexed, curling and uncurling into fists in his riding gloves.

  Spittle flew from his mouth when he spoke. “How did you survive? I checked your pulse last night. You were dead.”

  “You bastards aren’t the only ones with tricks up your sleeves.”

  “The Ranger. She’s your little slut then? She betrayed her promise to Bates?”

  I held my tongue as I saw red. Bastard.

  Moss inched closer. “She made her bed. If Bates gets a chance, he’ll put his hands around her throat and show her what he does to traitors.”

  The red consumed my vision. A furious yell tore from my throat and I surged forward, fists raised and hell burning in my ribs. The pain only spurred me to be as destructive as possible.

  Moss’s lips peeled off his teeth in an amused snarl. He dropped low and my fist passed over his head. He came back up swinging, trying to drive a fist into my stomach, but I turned full circle and used my own momentum to drive my elbow into his jaw. The sound of his teeth slamming together brought deep satisfaction even as he managed to drive his armored fist into my sternum.

  The pain was incredible. It felt like my ribs cracked all over again. The hit took the air out of my lungs and I staggered back, bracing myself with my hands on my knees while Moss struggled to keep his footing and nursed his jaw.

  He spat blood. He must have bit his own tongue or cheek when I hit him. He dragged his hand across his lips. “Does the Ranger take it like a good girl, Devil?”

  “Leave her out of this.”

  “I always thought she looked like a good fuck. And last night, I have to say, she put on a good show. If Caroline hadn’t been there, I might have had her for myself. Shown her what a real man feels like. She could be so much more if she chose Bates. He’d have made her someone.”

  “Stop talking.”

  Moss laughed. Time to end this. I rushed him. Moss met me with his fists. I struck his cheekbone, and he cracked his gloves across my jaw. The stars overhead blurred, and as I teetered off balance, I seized the front of his jacket, hauled myself back up, and slammed my fist into his nose.

  We both went down hard. Moss drove his knee into my groin. I hissed with pain and tried to dig my thumbs into his eye sockets. He used his elbows to knock my hands down and tried to wrap his hands around my throat.

  I slammed my knee up, catching him between the legs, and used the momentum to send him up and over my head. He landed heavily on his back as I scrambled up to my hands and knees.

  A gun fired close by. White-hot pain seared across my hip, and I looked up to see Moss grinning at something behind me.

  I glanced over my shoulder. Caroline stood in front of the Rover with her gun raised and trained on me. Her finger hovered over the trigger as she took aim for another shot. I tucked and rolled. She pulled the trigger and the second bullet grazed my ear.

  “Kill him!” Moss shrieked.

  She fired again and again, but I kept rolling and stayed low until I got to the excavator, where I dove for cover. Moss surged forward, but Caroline screamed at him to leave me.

  “We need a medic!” she cried. “Get in the fucking car!”

  From the cover behind the excavator, I watched Moss spit curses but turn toward her to follow orders. As they rushed to get in the car, I drew my gun and fired four shots. Caroline slammed her door behind her. One shot blew off the passenger mirror. The headlights flashed on and she reversed while Moss hopped in the back seat. I sent off another shot, this one going in the car, but I had no idea if I’d hit anyone.

  She reversed and I came out from behind the excavator and emptied my clip.

  The windshield was bulletproof. The car disappeared around a bend, and I had a choice to make.

  Ride after them or go to the others who were still battling Bates’s Wolverines.

  “Shit,” I grated.

  I abandoned my cover and ran down the slope to the others. The corpses of several Wolverines littered the ground, but I didn’t see any bodies I recognized. Relief washed over me as bullets fired over my head from the enemy.

  Abel popped up from behind his bike and bellowed at me to move my ass.

  I ran as fast as I could past him while he covered for me. A few paces back, Gabriel was behind his bike.

  “Where’s Jack?” I yelled.

  “Brody’s with him! Behind the truck!”

  I ran to the beat-up old shell of a Chevy and slid around the front, ending on my knees on the other side.

&nb
sp; There, propped up against the flat tire, was Jackson. Brody knelt in front of him and worked to stop blood pumping out of a hole in his side. He pushed down hard on the wound, and Jackson’s eyes squeezed closed in pain.

  “Fuck,” the President hissed. “Watch it!”

  Brody spoke through clenched teeth. “I can’t stop this bleeding here. We need to go. Now.”

  I poked my head over the hood of the truck and watched as Abel, Gabriel, Grant, Knox, and Mason moved forward, closing in on the Wolverines on the other side of the crossroads.

  “If we’re going to move, now’s our chance,” I said.

  “He’s not going to be able to ride,” Brody said.

  Jackson gripped Brody’s shoulder. “I don’t have a choice. Get me up.”

  Brody shook his head. “You’ve lost too much blood. You’ll pass out in the saddle. We need a distraction. Something to take the heat off us while we get you out of here.”

  Jackson tried to push himself higher up against the tire. “It was a setup. We shouldn’t have come.”

  “Carrie didn’t set us up,” I said.

  “Bates might have never trusted her in the first place,” Jackson managed. He was pale. “He might have just used her like he uses everyone else.”

  Brody and I shared a look, and he shook his head slightly. “We need to get him out of here.”

  Just then, we heard a familiar engine rumbling. A bike came speeding around a corner, back tire sliding through the gravel, the petite rider hunkered down low in the seat as they barrelled toward us.

  Brody drew his gun. “Who the hell is that?”

  Jackson squinted at the bike before slapping Brody’s gun down. “Wait! That’s Will’s bike.”

  From somewhere close by, Mason yelled Suzie’s name.

  Jackson’s eyes went wide. “Is that my fucking sister? What the hell is she doing here?”

  The bike came to a sliding stop behind the truck, and I knew right away it wasn’t Suzie. The rider pulled her helmet off and blonde hair spilled down her shoulders. Carrie looked down at us, sweat beading on her forehead.

  Her eyes flicked from Jackson’s wound to me. “You guys need to go,” she said. “The Wolverines are pulling out but the cops are right behind me.”

  “Jackson can’t ride,” Brody said.

  She pointed in the direction she’d come. “There’s a car parked at the main entrance. You can hotwire it. Just get him there. I’ll lead the cops away.”

  Brody nodded and slid an arm under Jackson.

  I shook my head. “No, I will.”

  She ignored me. “Where’s Bates?”

  I nodded to the top of the rise. “Caroline drove off with him a couple minutes ago. I shot him in the back, but I don’t know how much damage I did.”

  Carrie pulled her helmet back on.

  “Carrie, no,” I started, but she’d already dropped the clutch and pulled away. Wolverines fired at her, and Mason, the closest to us, fired back, clearing her path as she opened the throttle and sped up the rise in the direction Caroline, her father, and Moss had fled.

  My heart raced. In her wake, more Wolverines climbed onto their bikes and abandoned the fight. They left their dead behind.

  Brody got Jackson to his feet, and I spun to them, dizzy with panic. Jackson looked even worse for wear than he had a minute ago.

  “Go after her,” he said, his breath hitching. “But watch yourself, Tex.”

  Chapter 38

  Carrie

  I rode like a Devil.

  The wind ripped at the sleeves of my T-shirt. Up ahead, the taillights of Caroline’s SUV appeared and disappeared as they tried to lose me.

  I grinned into the wind, thinking about how scared she must have been. She had her father bleeding out in the back seat while they fled a psycho giving chase on a motorcycle, who they probably thought was one of the Devil’s Luck.

  And maybe I was. At least, I wanted to be. And as I sat in the saddle riding the yellow line in the middle of the road, I certainly felt like one.

  Hell, I felt invincible. Unstoppable.

  Tex was still standing. He was alive. Brody would be able to get Jackson the help he needed. None of the corpses back at the landfill belonged to any of ours. Even though Bates still had breath in his lungs, as I closed in, I truly felt like this was going to be it.

  I would be the lucky one to put a bullet in his skull. It worried me only briefly that my gut instinct was to kill him, not arrest him. But only briefly.

  He deserved death. He deserved to writhe in pain in the back seat while his daughter tried to save him. I hoped they were scrambling and full of panic. Nothing would bring me greater satisfaction than to know they were afraid.

  I was surprised when they didn’t head into downtown. Instead, they headed the other direction once we left the landfill, heading for the interstate and out of town.

  He was running. Coward, I thought.

  I couldn’t get the bike to go any faster. I was riding at my absolute limit. If I pushed myself any harder, I might crash, and that wasn’t how I wanted this night to end. A crash wouldn’t be good for me. All I had on was a T-shirt and jeans. I’d be chewed up by the road.

  The SUV disappeared around a bend. I accelerated as hard as I could, making up in advance for the time I’d lose in the corner, and took the speed off before I came into it. I couldn’t lean like I could on other bikes I’d ridden, so I had to ease my way into and out of the corner.

  Up ahead, I’d gained several more yards on the Rover. We zeroed in on a straightaway and I seized my chance. I dropped a gear and opened up the throttle.

  The engine roared and the bike bucked beneath me before shooting forward. I kept low in the seat, tucked my knees in, and kept my eye on the prize. I gained on them quickly and we still had plenty of road ahead of us.

  This was the best chance I was going to get.

  With one hand steady on the handlebars, I drew my gun, took aim, and fired. The back right tire blew out. The SUV swerved, tires squealing, brake lights flashing.

  I pretended to hear Caroline screaming from inside the car.

  I took another shot, but it deflected off the back bumper. Cursing, I pulled away from the yellow line and veered off to the right side of the lane. I rode the shoulder and crept up on the righthand side of the car. I took another shot, this time blowing a hole in the side of the car right where the fuel tank was. I was rewarded by a steady line of fluid staining the pavement.

  Sooner or later, they’d run out of gas.

  Suddenly, the passenger door of the SUV swung open.

  I didn’t have time to veer away. I hadn’t left enough space between me and the back tire of the SUV. Moss, holding on to his seatbelt to stay in the car, let his whole upper half fall out of the side of the car. With his free hand, he trained a gun right on me.

  Fuck.

  I hit the brakes hard. Moss pulled the trigger. The bullet just missed my knee and caught something in the exposed engine of my bike. It shuddered and groaned, and within seconds, I lost stability.

  The front tire began to wobble and nothing I did helped me regain control. The wobble only got worse until I was all over the road. Moss took another shot, which burst my headlight.

  I hit the brakes hard, knowing I was going down. I had to take off with as much speed as I could before I crashed. Otherwise I’d be in big trouble.

  As soon as my tire hit a patch of gravel on the shoulder, it went down. I let out an undignified scream as I fell, and I was lucky that I hit the grass of the shallow ditch. The bike slid down and out from under me, and I rolled head over heels about six feet into the grass, where I landed on my back in a few inches of stagnant water.

  As I stared up at the starry night sky, I heard the Range Rover peeling away.

  “Fuck,” I hissed between clenched teeth. I slammed my fists down at my sides, splashing water on myself. “Fuck!”

  That was it. My one chance. The closest I was going to get to ending this. Now
it had all been in vain. All our efforts, risks, and sacrifices had led to this moment, and I’d let the bad guy get away. Again.

  I closed my eyes. You were so close.

  If I’d gotten him, I could have killed him. Or arrested him. I could have arrested Caroline and Moss, too. Bringing them in would bring down the entire police department, and maybe I could have transferred to work here in Reno and helped with the foundation of building a new police force free of corruption.

  That dream went up in smoke as the night fell quiet.

  Bates was gone.

  There was no way to know where he was going. Clearly, they weren’t taking him back to Reno. They were running.

  How many of his men had the Devils killed? What power did Bates have in Reno? Would he need to regroup? Rebuild? Would he bother coming back, or would he leave it to those who ran it before he ever got here?

  I doubted he’d stay away for long. He’d be back when he recovered. If he recovered.

  I propped myself up on my elbows and looked down at myself. I was soaking wet. My wet shirt was stained with muck—grass, dirt, and ditch sludge. Grumbling, I managed to climb out of the ditch. On the side of the road, I inspected my body to make sure I didn’t have any wounds I couldn’t feel.

  I pulled off my helmet, shook out my hair, and looked both ways down the road. How was I going to get out of here? I hadn’t thought that through.

  Irritated with myself, I started walking back the direction I’d come. I only made it about thirty paces away from the bike in the ditch when a headlight swept around the last corner and a bike raced down the street toward me. I leapt off to the side and hunkered back down in the ditch, worried it might be one of Bates’s men, but as the rider got closer, I recognized the bike and the man in the saddle.

  I hurried up out of the ditch and met Tex on the road as he got off his bike. He wasn’t wearing a helmet. He bled from a cut in his lip, a gash in his cheek, the top of his ear, and his hip.

  Looking him over, I opened my mouth to ask if he was okay, but he gathered me up in his arms and hugged me to him.