Without Forever: Babylon MC Book 5

by James, Victoria L.

  “Would you have mercy if this fight had gone the other way?”

  “Kill him… Drew,” my father croaked, his cough rough and dirty, making me glance his way. The relief I felt from hearing those three words had my hand loosening around Walsh’s throat. I was too lost in the visual in front of me. Eric and Ayda, both of them alive.

  Walsh buckled under me, bringing my attention back to him. I pinned him back in place, lifting him and smacking his head down onto the hard concrete beneath us with a sharp crack. His body sagged, and he released a groan.

  “Don’t,” he cried weakly. “Don’t kill me. T-think of Rubin. Think of him. Think of how he’ll hate you. I’m his father, Drew. I’m his dad. His only dad. You end my life, and he’ll never forgive you. Rubin deserves so much mor—”

  “Fuck you,” Eric spat, venom tainting his every word.

  “Drew,” Walsh croaked up at me, his eyes getting wider. I could feel the panic in the pulse around his neck, and I watched as the veins in his head became more prominent, and his skin turned a deeper shade of red. “If you care for Rubin at all, you won’t kill me. You won’t kill his father.”

  “You’re not his fucking father!” Eric roared, his raspy voice, painful and distressed. When I glanced back at him, he was on all fours, coughing up more blood, staring up at Walsh and me through narrowed, desperate, pleading eyes. “You’re not Rubin’s father and you know it. We both know it,” he breathed.

  I frowned hard, staring at Eric. When he looked up at me, I saw a million apologies and a single request staring back at me.

  “What?” I frowned, my whisper strangled.

  Eric sucked in a breath, and on his exhale, my whole world shifted. “I’m Rubin’s father, Drew. He’s my son—the reason I had to leave Babylon. The Navs, Walsh… they forced me out. Walsh didn’t want me around Rubin. I had to get away from him and Walsh’s wife, Carolyn. I had to do it to save you. If I didn’t, they were going to kill you and every Hound we knew.” Eric coughed again, his body swaying into Ayda who was wide-eyed and trying to hold him up. Blood fell from Eric’s mouth and he fell, but his pleading eyes never strayed from mine. “Do what I should have done ten years ago. End that son of a bitch. End Walsh. Do it for me. Do it for you. Do it for Rubin.”

  Chapter Thirty

  AYDA

  Everything seemed to just stop. Even the pounding beat of my heart slowed to a crawl as I held Eric, now panting with pain, upright as we knelt together under the altar he’d been strung up on

  Eric Tucker was Rubin’s father?

  He’d slept with Carolyn Walsh?

  Drew’s eyes were on Eric, even while his grip around Walsh’s neck stayed unrelenting. It took me a moment to realize that Travis didn’t seem as surprised as the rest of us were, and if he was in any way shocked, he hid the emotion well. Trigger crouched close to the mayor and Drew, his forearms resting on his knees as he studied the two men with a triumphant smirk on his twisted mouth.

  I hated Travis Gatlin even more at that moment because I realized a few important things about him. The man had no honor to speak of. He certainly had no morals. And more importantly, I knew he wouldn’t ever stop this war of his.

  Travis cared about nothing but satisfying his sick need to break everything in his path. Whether that obstacle was a man in high standing like Mayor Walsh, a rival president like Drew or Eric, or one of his own men. Trigger’s only objective was to win by any means necessary, and he wasn’t a go around the mountain kind of guy. He would always choose to go through, to take down everything in his path until there was nothing left and the whole world was leveled under his boots.

  The worst part was that he seemed to enjoy it.

  “The way I see it, this is all the more reason to kill this worthless motherfucker, Tucker.”

  Trigger pointed at Walsh casually with one finger, but his eyes were on Drew, waiting for a reaction, knowing that this revelation would only complicate things further.

  Drew stared at Travis, his mouth tight before he looked back at Eric in disbelief. “Rubin? He’s my brother?” he asked, his voice one I barely recognized. It was so soft and almost innocent-like. A harsh contrast to the broken, bleeding man who looked capable of being nothing but murderous toward the person in his grip.

  My heart ached for him. The hits were coming one after the other lately, and as much as I wanted to go to Drew, to help in some way, I knew that we were in the middle of a fight for our lives and that wouldn’t be welcomed. Instead, I helped Eric straighten as much as he was capable, encouraging him to respond while my eyes moved to Trigger.

  Eric sucked in a breath and nodded once at Drew.

  “So many secrets. So many lies,” Trigger whispered, enjoying every minute.

  Drew’s attention snapped back to him. “You shut the fuck up, Travis before you find yourself trading places with Walsh.”

  Trigger laughed roughly and held up his hands, mocking Drew as he pretended to concede.

  Drew looked down at Walsh, the muscles in Drew’s arms popping as he used all his strength to pin the mayor down. It seemed like his whole body was shaking as he stared down into his eyes. “Is this true?” he ground out.

  “Y-yes,” Walsh croaked, struggling to grab a full breath as Drew pressed down.

  “Fuck!” Drew snapped, removing his hand from Walsh’s neck at once. Walsh reached up to touch his throat, his red face on the verge of turning purple, and he managed to pull in a rough breath, the sound of it harsh, forcing him to wheeze and cough.

  Drew knelt over him, the heels of his bloody hands pressing into his own forehead.

  His head had been in the fight, his guard up and walls in place, but now his thoughts were elsewhere, on a boy who was probably sitting in The Hut, wondering if the man he thought was his father was still alive.

  “Finish what you started, Tucker.”

  Dropping his fists to his thighs, Drew opened his closed eyes and glanced at Trigger. He rolled his chin back and forth, studying the Nav in front of him. Then he glanced at me, at Eric, finally settling on Mayor Walsh beneath him.

  “I should…” he began quietly, flexing his fingers out before curling them back into tight, bloody fists. “I should finish what I started. I want to. I want to end this son of a bitch’s life for everything he’s put my father through. For everything he’s put my club through… me through. He’s responsible for every bad thing that happened to me inside Huntsville, which means a lot of my demons belong to him.”

  “Son…” Eric tried to interrupt but Drew ignored him, his focus on Walsh as he talked about him like he wasn’t even there.

  “I should want to draw his last breath from him for Rubin… because no kid hates the man they think is their father the way he hates you, Walsh. Not unless you’ve done some fucked up, shitty things to him.” Drew leaned closer, and Walsh’s eyes were wide, his body too weak and his heart too cowardly to react. “But you don’t deserve to die. You deserve to live—to look over your back every second of every fucking day, wondering where the bullet to end your life will come from. I won’t be the guy to give you the easy way out. You’re not worth being another life on my conscience. You’re not worth shit.” He spat, making sure it hit Walsh’s chest before he slowly began to climb off him, coming to a stand by his side.

  Drew looked up at me, and he held my gaze. “I believe I only have one person left to fight for. Let’s get this final round over with. I want to go home.”

  With a flick of Trigger’s wrist, Walsh was pulled to the edge of the fight circle and dumped between two of the Nav’s who were nursing their wounds.

  “Walsh won’t let this go,” Eric grunted, panting through the pain as more of his weight came against me. “He won’t stop until I'm dead, the club is destroyed, and Rubin is broken, Drew.”

  Drew paced like a caged tiger, all strength and focus as he scanned the crowd waiting for the next man to step up. He was tired, but his spirit was still there. He was determined to get us out of this
.

  “I doubt Trigger will let him walk out of here alive,” I said under my breath, all of my focus on Drew as he rolled his shoulders.

  “Ayda, don’t be naive,” Eric hissed in my ear before coughing in pain. “Trigger’s not going to let any of us walk out of here alive.”

  The freezing fingers of realization worked their way down my spine as Eric’s words sank further than just the surface of my skin and began to take root there.

  He was right.

  When my gaze found Trigger shrugging his cut from his shoulders, I started to see all of this through the eyes of Eric, a sight that didn’t have the light of hope tainting the edge of it.

  Jesus Christ, I was stupid.

  It was all so clear to me now.

  Travis was planning on taking on Drew in this last round, and he wasn’t intending on following any of the usual fighting rules Drew was adhering to on this battlefield he’d built. Trigger wasn’t going to allow Drew to walk away from this warehouse tonight no matter what happened, and he was going to make damn sure the boys and I would be another set of nails in that coffin for him.

  “You heard the words from his mouth yourself. He lies,” Eric whispered as Trigger’s shirt came off and his scarred and tattooed chest appeared. A reaper with a scythe and assault rifle spread from the middle of his chest to his lower waist like a death omen.

  Beating his chest with his fist, Travis released a sadistic laugh that made my chest ache in trepidation. I watched him wind himself up, pace along with Drew, his strides wider and stronger because he was fresh and full of energy. Then he pointed his fist at Drew—his eyes bright and full of murder.

  “My turn, motherfucker.”

  Drew’s eyes narrowed, and I wished I could know what he was thinking as he stared at Trigger through one eye, the other too swollen for him to see anything clearly.

  “Cat got the Hound’s tongue?” Trigger asked with glee, his bounces energetic, his muscles sharp and flexing, ready for the fight.

  Drew followed him, his gaze unwavering, going wherever Trigger went as he danced around, stretching his neck from side to side.

  “This wasn’t part of the rules,” Drew pushed out.

  “There are no fucking rules, pup. Not today. Not after you recently accused me of being a coward and avoiding a fight. What was it you said? That I slip into the background and shoot people in the back of the head because I’m too afraid to fight them man to man? Well, here I am.”

  “You don’t want to do this,” Drew warned him.

  “Damn, I do. I’ve waited a long time to sink a fist into your flesh.” Trigger smirked, and he lunged forward at once, his arm jabbing out sharply to hit Drew on the left shoulder, sending his body in a twist until he corrected his footing.

  The Hounds stepped forward, stopped by the men flanking them all on either side, their rifles pointed high. They’d chosen not to leave, and they were going to see this through to the end. Jedd was looking around him, the VP trying to save his president by any means necessary, before he leaned into his cut, his mouth moving as he whispered something to himself. If he was choosing now to pray, I wasn’t going to argue with it.

  “Kill him, Drew,” Deeks shouted, sounding less like Deeks than ever before.

  “Yeah.” Trigger grinned, bright and sadistic. “Come kill me, Drew.” He beckoned him closer with his hands, but Drew was no fool.

  He waited patiently, flicking his head to remove the blood that was dripping into his eye whenever he could. Frustration poured from him, but so did his ability to fight. Trigger looked like he could take any man in here. Drew looked like he’d already done it and won a thousand times already.

  “One more round,” Drew said quietly.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  DREW

  One more round.

  My arms had turned to lead—the pain in my knuckles and fists like acid on the skin, yet it was my mind that hurt the most.

  I’d got out of so many situations by the skin of my teeth, and now I had it all to win, the sense of loss hung over me, ready to bring me to my knees. I’d met some sick motherfuckers in my time, but Travis Gatlin was up there with the worst, and whether I won this fight or not, he wasn’t about to let me get out of this alive. I just had to make sure Ayda and the baby got out. That was the one goal that kept my body driving forward with a need to kill.

  It didn’t matter if I died, as long as they got to live.

  My thighs throbbed, my chest fucking ached, and my feet were getting sloppy as the disruption to my vision made everything off balance.

  “Come on, Tucker,” Slater hissed at me.

  “You’ve got this, Drew,” Kenny shouted to me. “Get off, motherfucker,” he snapped at someone else. I didn’t have time to look or listen to any of them.

  Trigger’s smile had slipped as he concentrated on the thrill of the kill and pulling in enough breaths to keep him moving. His first serious shot came in triplicate, my jaw taking the first hard jab, and my chest tensing against the second before he rounded it off with a hit that made my teeth rattle.

  Grunting and shaking it off, I blinked away to move the blood, and I tried to see through the red spots that were blurring the world around me.

  Trigger’s teeth were bared through his smile, his amusement clear.

  “Too easy,” he panted, two-stepping closer to me to throw another, but I managed the dodge this time, and Travis went past me, quickly finding his feet and bringing himself back around.

  “If it were that easy, you wouldn’t feel the need to stay on your toes and bounce a-fucking-round like that.”

  Trigger planted his feet in place, his legs wide apart, his shoulders sagging as he looked at me. “This better for you?”

  I moved quickly, my left fist aiming for the fucker’s eye. If I could only see out of one, he sure as shit was going to have the same impairment.

  Trigger’s head snapped back from the impact of my fist to his face, his laughter sadistic, and I took the chance to hit him in the chest over and over while I had him. Speed was no longer my friend, and I was going to make the most of every opportunity I got.

  When I bounced back on my toes and took a chance to drag in a feral breath, I watched Trigger lift a hand to the eye I’d hit, his fascination clear when he pulled it away to find a stream of blood on his fingers.

  “Damn, that felt good,” he whispered, looking back up at me. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

  He was soon moving again, circling me effortlessly, and taunting me at every chance he got. Trigger was too quick, and before I could maneuver my body to launch an attack on him, he was on me, pouring every punch he could muster onto my already bruised and beaten body, making sure he got my face, my arms, my stomach, and even throwing in a punch to the side of my head. I drew my arms up, blocking him as best I could, but I couldn’t see for shit. It was raining red in front of me, and I was a blind man having to feed off sounds and energy, knowing I needed to make an escape before this turned into the very thing I was trying to avoid.

  “Fuck!” Trigger laughed, his panting breaths as loud as his cries of victory when he stepped away from me. “Come the fuck on, Tucker.” He punched me again, my chin taking the brunt of it, sending me stumbling back until I had to press my hands to my knees and pull in some fucking air.

  “Kick his fucking ass, Drew. You’ve got this.” Ayda’s voice should have been lost in the sea of people, but it was the only feminine sound in the room, and it stood out from the rest.

  I blinked hard, opening my eyes as wide as I could get them as I looked up through fucked-up eyes to see Trigger staring at me, waiting to kill.

  This wasn’t a fight for me. I was fighting for her.

  The grunt I released drove me forward, and I swung at him harder than I’d ever swung at anyone, the roar of survival tearing at my throat. My fist hit him like thunder, the smack to the left side of his head making his eyes roll to the side, his mouth to fly open, and his body twist and turn to the sid
e. I caught his impending fall with a returning left punch to the right side of his face, my features twisted in anger and the blood rushing to my brain, my rage uncontrollable.

  Trigger was gone, his head and body shook as he stumbled back, right into the arms of his waiting Navarro Rifle’s brother, who caught him in his arms. When Trigger’s eyes opened, his lips parted, and he stared up at me, dazed and somewhat confused.

  I stood there, fists hanging down by my sides, and I stared right back at him, my teeth grinding together and my nostrils flared as I struggled to breathe.

  “Get up,” I demanded quietly.

  He stared. His silence his only response.

  “I said… get up.”

  Trigger swallowed, letting a slow smile grace his bust-up face as the Nav behind him guided him back to his feet. His body swayed as the aftershocks of my attack rattled through him.

  That’s right, motherfucker. Feel me in your bones. There’s more where that came from.

  He leaned into his brother and whispered something, following it with a wink before Travis turned back to me and tapped his fists together.

  “Okay, Tucker. You’ve shown me your strength. Can feel it in my damn balls, brother.” He laughed roughly. “No more performances. Now it’s time to fight how real men fight.”

  I had no idea what the fuck he meant. I could hardly see anything, and my head felt like it was about to roll off my body, the lightness of it making the room spin around me. My feet seemed to move of their own accord, and I stumbled to the side, forcing my shoulders back and my chest out in a bid to stay upright.

  Every Hound around me grew louder, their voices one big sound of noise I could no longer decipher, and when Trigger stood toe-to-toe with me, I saw my short future playing out ahead of me.

  But only one voice stood out.

  One voice I hadn’t heard in a very long time.

  Pete:

  “A true leader looks their enemy in the eyes and he says, ‘I’m never gonna back down, no matter what you throw at me and no matter how beaten to the ground I am. If you want to win this fight, you’re going to have to kill me.’ Do you get that? There’s no in between. No middle ground. No negotiations. This is do or die. A leader—a true leader—they’ll do whatever it takes to make things go their way.”