Without Forever: Babylon MC Book 5

by James, Victoria L.

  I swallowed hard, unable to look away from him, my heart beating wildly and fists curling down by my sides.

  “But I also see you have potential to be something greater than what you are now.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  Trigger’s smirk grew slowly. “I’m a big believer in survival of the fittest. Natural selection, shall we say. I think those who die from their mistakes deserve to die. Those who are weak have no place on this earth. Those who fall too easy don’t deserve to get back up. I want to hate you, Tucker. A huge part of me does. I’ve had many dreams of bathing in your blood and being the one to tie you up in chains like Cortez managed to do, and I’ve thought about standing over your grave with a smile on my face. But then I thought about why I wanted that. Why did I want you dead, beside the heat you tried to put on my club? Besides the way you seemed to think it was okay to mock my brothers? Besides the fact that you messed with my drug trade in Babylon, and how you put us under the microscope of the likes of the ATF? And once I’d put all those things aside, that’s when I came to the honest conclusion that I hated you because a part of me feared you. You may wear your heart on your sleeve, and that may make you weak, but it makes you reckless, too. Reckless can be deadly.” He grinned like the evil motherfucker he was. “I like deadly. I want deadly on my team.”

  “Over my dead body.”

  “That may be an option.” He turned to Ayda. “Or hers.” When he spun back around to me, he pressed his lips together and raised his brows. “We could make this a marriage of both clubs, Tucker. If you prove yourself to me, if you do exactly as I say, we could eventually work together to create something Texas has never seen before. I’d protect you.”

  “At what cost?”

  “All the evidence you’ve planted against us concerning Owen Sinclair and Mayor Walsh.” He paused for dramatic effect. “And a little show of strength from you, dear president.”

  I glanced at my father and Ayda, side by side. I saw every flicker of pain Ayda was feeling and the way her eyes were pleading with me not to agree to any of this.

  Closing my eyes to find some strength, I turned back to Trigger and opened them slowly. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Fight,” he said simply. “You and your club. Show me you’re worthy of our allegiance. Your men against mine. We have the ring set up. We have spectators. This is everything you need, right? You did used to fight in the underground if I remember correctly. You’re used to these kinds of do-or-die battles, no?” His smile broke free again, and I knew exactly where the fucker was going with this.

  Pete. The fucker was referring to Pete’s death.

  “Did Cortez show you Pete dying, too?” I asked through gritted teeth.

  “Who do you think pulled Cortez’s strings?” he countered, raising a brow. “Everything he did was because I manipulated him into thinking he could do it successfully. My mistake. I made an error in choosing The Emps. I never put them to the test. I never found out if they were truly worthy of being associated with us. I won’t make that mistake twice. I won’t choose a weak club again.”

  My body shook as his words sunk in. My limbs trembled, and my jaw was about to break because my teeth were grinding together so hard as I stared into his creepy fucking stare.

  He’d been responsible for Cortez’s actions?

  Which meant he’d been responsible for so much more than I’d ever imagined. And now he wanted my club to fight against his so that we could prove we were worthy of his supposed loyalty.

  The game had been flipped on its head, and now the rage rolling through my body needed an outlet.

  Rolling my shoulders, I shrugged slowly out of my cut, never taking my eyes from Travis as I pulled it in front of me, folded it carefully, and then laid it out on a chair just a few steps away. I began to lift my T-shirt over my head, sliding it off my arms as carefully as I could before I tossed it to the side, ignoring the grunts and quiet protests of my brothers around me.

  I was focused on one man and one man alone for now, and that man had never looked more satisfied with himself than he did right now.

  “Each fight goes to the end,” I told him calmly. “Until the other man can’t get off his knees and he has to be dragged away.”

  Travis nodded. “And which Hound would you like to offer up as your first sacrifice?”

  I shook my head and flexed my fingers out before I curled them into fists. “There won’t be any more sacrifices in my club.”

  The audible groans and gasps from my men had to be blocked out. I was too focused on the narrowing of Trigger’s eyes.

  “Are you suggesting…?”

  “That I fight every man you’ve got? Yeah. I am. If someone else is going to die for my MC, it’s going to be me. No more sacrifices. Come and test my strength. Come and find my weakness.” I raised my chin and glared at him, waiting for my chance of revenge on everyone I’d ever loved and lost. For every man behind me with a hound on their chest, and for the man bleeding out in front of me who’d brought me into this world. Mainly, I wanted revenge for my girl, and for the misery that this motherfucker had brought into our lives when all we ever should have been doing was loving one another and living life.

  “I can’t decide whether you’re brave or stupid,” Trigger whispered back at me.

  “Both.” I sucked in a breath and rolled my neck to the side. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  AYDA

  No matter how many times I’d been there in the training room for one of Drew’s bouts with the other Hounds, or how desensitized I thought I was about watching him warm up for a fight, there was nothing in the world that could have ever prepared me for what was about to go down in this warehouse.

  The air around us crackled the moment Drew conceded, a cacophony of noise exploding as Hounds and Navs alike shouted and talked over one another, desperate to encourage or issue threats. I wouldn’t have listened if I could have avoided it, but as it was, I was frozen to the spot, my heart in my throat, pounding so hard it drowned out most of the noise, while an odd sense of my future thrummed in my gut, reminding me what was growing there.

  We couldn’t escape this now, and the part of me that was beginning to think like Drew understood why. Wars were made up of battles, and Drew and his Hounds had fought so many of them defensively over the years that this final round, where it mattered the most, meant he had to scale an offensive, even when our enemy had the upper hand. Drew wasn’t thinking about me, the baby, or his men as he rolled his shoulders and bounced on the balls of his feet. He was thinking about the future. About freedom, security, and more importantly, peace, even if that meant we had to live it without him.

  Tonight was his final stand. The night where he showed his enemies every last one of his strengths.

  The rolling bloodlust that was slowly traveling around the room and transforming every man inside of it was now seeping inside of me. Tendrils of it worked through my flesh, setting my nerves alight until my whole body thrummed with it. I needed something to sate this new thirst because that volatile drive was the only thing stopping my emotions from overwhelming me.

  With a desperate and angry swipe of my hand, I knocked away the arm of the Nav still holding me, and I pushed closer to the love of my life.

  “Drew!” I called out, my body coming to a stop as arms folded around my waist to stop me from reaching him. I pushed them away again but stayed where I was as I waited for him to acknowledge me.

  He flinched, his face twisting at the sound of my voice. He couldn’t look at me, but I saw the way he swallowed down his regret as he ran a palm over the knuckles on his right hand before he gave in and glanced up through hooded eyes.

  His apology was there. I could see it.

  But I also saw that he had to do this.

  There was no other way out.

  “Win,” I said loud and clearly. “You win.”

  Drew held my gaze for a second, allowing hims
elf a moment to take me in, but that moment flew by too quickly, and then Drew was bouncing on the balls of his feet, his neck stretched and his chin raised high as he stared back at Trigger like he was capable of killing him with nothing more than a look.

  “I take a guy out—you let one of mine go. We got a deal?” he asked Travis one last time.

  “We have a deal.”

  “You try back out of that deal, find a loophole, throw any surprises, and I’ll kill you first.”

  Travis raised both brows, and after careful consideration gave Drew a nod of approval.

  Drew exhaled heavily in response, never taking his eyes from Trigger as he continued to bounce on his feet and point at Eric.

  “I win this round, and Eric gets cut loose.”

  Trigger hissed, dragging air in through his teeth. “Let’s save the most important ones for the later rounds. I’m not about to make this easy for you and give you a reason to stop fighting after two rounds, Tucker. Ayda and Eric go last.”

  I expected Drew to argue at that, but he merely closed his eyes to compose himself, drawing in another breath that seemed to set his adrenaline on fire before he released it quickly and opened his eyes again, this time pointing at his brothers across the room.

  “Moose.”

  “Moose it is,” Trigger agreed, and then he summoned a man of his own.

  The giant who’d pushed Drew into the warehouse was the first to take him on. The towering body of steel creaked when he walked into the space between Trigger and Drew. Trigger wanted to tire Drew out fast, and he clearly thought this was the best way to go about it.

  The guy was huge. His face twisted in concentration as he sized up Drew and obviously underestimated him. That was something I wasn’t willing to do, but it didn’t stop that icy finger of fear from tearing down my spine.

  This wasn’t like boxing I’d seen on television. There was no announcer telling me when the fight would start. There wasn’t a bell, a whistle, or a referee. It wasn’t even close to the contests I’d seen in the training room. It started the moment the giant stepped forward and took a swing, his long limb lashing out and curling around faster than I’d expected him to be able to move.

  Drew dodged it, leaning away and pulling his chin back before he danced backward, his hands up high as he bounced from side to side. The giant Nav threw another punch, his steps heavy and hard as he marched forward, and Drew moved like he knew where his opponent was going to go before the move was made. His eyes had changed, shifting from being concerned, to being alive with adrenaline. No one else was in the room with him but his enemy as he waited patiently to strike.

  The Nav charged, his pace picking up until they were both at the ropes, and a large growl came from the Nav as his anger took over and he made another swing at Drew, only to miss as Drew ducked under his arm, bounced around and danced behind him on the balls of his feet. His back was to me, all flexing muscle and damp, bare skin as he continued to send the Nav in circles—the dirty giant who now looked like he wanted to eat Drew alive.

  “Son of a…” The Nav growled, lunging forward to Drew, expecting him to move, but this time Drew stayed firmly in place, unmoving as the Nav walked straight into the hard, well-placed uppercut Drew planted under his jaw, sending the Nav’s teeth rattling and his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

  Drew wasted no time in throwing a sharp right hook across the guy’s jaw, the sound of flesh breaking bone enough to make everyone around me wince and cry out in anger and excitement.

  The giant stumbled and Drew attacked. Three hits to the guy’s chest barely making him breathe heavy before Drew ducked under a weak attempt at retaliation, only to land a hard hook directly into the Nav’s groin.

  He was history. He fell, and Drew didn’t stop. He wanted blood, and he was getting it as The Nav rolled around on the ground, unable to dodge anything Drew rained down on him. Within seconds, The Nav was on his back, and Drew was smashing his fists into his face for fun, blood flying back up and spraying his face.

  Just when I thought it was over, and Drew stood upright over him, Drew did the unthinkable, and stomped his boot hard onto The Nav’s face, not even looking down on the man whose bones he’d just crushed beneath his sole before he stepped off of him and walked over to Trigger, his breaths ragged.

  “Deeks goes next,” he rasped.

  My eyes flashed up to where Moose was standing. The Nav that had been standing as close as his shadow had backed off, but Moose stayed where he was, his eyes moving to Deeks as mine did. Loyal as ever, his men were staying where they were. They were never going to leave Drew behind. My heart swelled, even though I knew it hurt every one of them to know that Drew was going to keep doing this in their stead.

  Travis nodded his agreement, and the rowdy crowd stirred.

  Another Nav entered the weird, makeshift ring we were all a part of—this man much smaller, but somewhat faster on his feet. Drew assessed him as he approached, taking in everything about him before the fight began. The younger Nav was cocky and clearly pissed off that the man before him had done such a shit job. He was handy with his legs, too, more like a specialist of martial arts than a boxer. His leg was the first thing to swing out, lashing out high to reach Drew’s jaw in a surprise move, but Drew seemed somewhat ready for it, and his hand flew out, stopping the foot in its tracks with a hard thud before he grabbed the guy’s ankle with his free hand, turned to the side and flipped him over onto the ground. The fight lasted all of thirty seconds before the guy’s face hit the hard, concrete floor with a bloody crack, and he passed out, his foot still in Drew’s grip.

  Drew simply looked at Trigger and raised a brow, holding eye contact before he eventually let the guy’s leg fall, and he pointed to The Hounds.

  “My brother Kenny goes next.”

  This whole thing was like nothing I could have ever prepared myself for. The smell of sweat and the tangy coppery scent of the blood already spilled was almost surreal. My fear and anger were two separate beasts that battled inside of me for dominance. I felt helpless. There was nothing I could to stop this from happening.

  One guy was dragged away, another replaced for Drew to face.

  He’d yet to look over and see that the men he’d already fought for were refusing to leave.

  Drew fought on. A fighter around the same size and weight as him entered the ring, eager and ready to charge.

  Drew dodged the first punch, swinging under it only to mistime the way the guy swung back, his opponent shocking him with a Southpaw surprise, sending Drew’s jaw the other way with a mighty crack.

  The whole room hissed and held their breath. It was the first shot to land on Drew’s body, and the fighter he was facing made it count. When Drew regained his footing, he ran a bare-knuckle over the corner of his mouth, a slight curl to his lip making it look like was smiling when he looked back up at the man he was facing.

  That blood was a reminder for him to not get complacent and Drew charged forward, his biceps tense and bursting at the seams. He threw a sharp left himself—telling the world he was ready to fight to the death.

  This round was much more even, a couple more shots hitting Drew hard in the stomach, turning his tanned skin raw and red, but no matter how much of a good fighter that Nav turned out to be, he wasn’t a true match for Drew—the man who’d been taught how to survive using his fists by Pete.

  The Nav crashed to his knees suddenly, his nose bloody and his body weak, and Drew brought his own knee up under the guy’s chin, sending him backward at once. His descent to the concrete floor seemed to happen in slow motion before all eyes turned back to Drew.

  For the first time, he was bloody, and now the game had changed.

  He spat a mouthful of blood to the side, refusing to look at me when he pointed to his brothers and croaked roughly, “Ben.”

  And off he went again. Another man. Another fight. Another round of pure, agonizing torture for him and for the rest of us.

  No matter how s
trong he was, he was only human, too. Fatigue was setting in, and I could tell by the groans and the growls of frustration he was letting slip free that he was finding it harder as time went on. This Nav came out with brass knuckles on his right hand, and Drew’s eyes widened as he took it in.

  “Come on, fucker,” his opponent taunted sadistically, and Drew froze, his brows rising high.

  “What did you just call me?” he whispered.

  The man sneered, smug and arrogant, waving his clenched fist back and forth as a promise of destruction. “Fucker.”

  The corner of Drew’s mouth twitched in amusement. He lunged forward, not throwing a punch, instead stepping into The Nav’s personal space, grabbing his wrist, and bending that wrist back with a hard snap until all that could be heard around the warehouse was the high-pitched screams of what sounded like a dying cat.

  “My fucking wrist! It’s broken!” the Nav wailed, dropping to his knees as his face turned purple.

  Drew didn’t even look at him. He paced in a circle, his chin to his chest and his eyes cast down, that jaw of his that I’d kissed so many times now unapproachable as it clenched and twitched to keep him under control.

  “Slater!” he cried.

  “The man’s a fucking machine,” I heard a man in a Nav cut mutter beside me.

  He wasn’t wrong. As Drew paced like a caged animal, the back of his hand running under his nose, the man I knew no longer existed inside of him. It wasn’t forever, and it didn’t scare me as much as it should have. He’d buried that part of himself in order to do what he needed to do.

  Eric groaned somewhere behind me as my guard stepped to the side. With one glance over my shoulder, my eyes met Eric’s. I couldn’t read Eric like I could Drew. There was no open communication between us, but a shadow of his own regret haunted those eyes that were so familiar to Drew’s.