Dragon's Burn

by Brooke Warren

Instead, he smiles and leans close to my face. “Now the fun begins.”

  Ryu

  I pace back and forth in the living room, waiting for Poppy to show up. My nerves are damn near shot. It feels like my skin is crawling from how high my anxiety is. The last few days have been hell. One minute I’d have my phone in hand, ready to call her and tell her I’m sorry and an idiot. It didn’t take long to figure out that that was my heart talking. My head, on the other hand, stopped me every time, reminding me that cutting ties was better for her.

  I know it's selfish of me to butt into her life, the escape she’s been dreaming of. No one knows that better than me. She wants out of this place to discover who she is. And I get it. The last thing she needs is a bum like me holding her back. That's at least what I told myself every time I wanted to tell her I wanted to come with her.

  But when I woke up today, the excuses I’ve had on repeat weren’t believable anymore.

  I want her.

  I want to go to bed with her and wake up with her.

  I want to hold her in my arms.

  I want it all.

  The thought of another guy touching her makes me want to rip walls down with my bare hands. I’ve never craved another like I do her. And I know how crazy it all sounds—like a sappy love story—but it’s true. That’s why I texted her. Staying away from her is no longer an option. I need to tell her how I feel, maybe not those exact things, but she needs to know. My stomach rolls, making anxiety spike even further. Who knew telling someone you cared about them would be this nerve-wracking?

  I check the time on my phone again, wondering what’s taking her so long. I glance around the room, making sure it’s picked up and presentable. JD’s out on a run, leaving the house free for just me and her. It’s been weird not having any club shit to do this week. Ghost has been pushing more and more runs in preparation for Tennessee. His goal is to make as much cash as he can before the move. There are three runs tonight alone.

  But thanks to me being on Ghost’s shit list, I’m free and clear. Just sucks I won’t be getting a cut of the money. The more I have when I leave, the easier things will be for me and Poppy. As it stands now, I have enough to survive on for a few months.

  My phone vibrates with a new message. What I find staring back at me has my blood freezing up, choking me from the inside out. I blink rapidly in disbelief, but the longer I look at the image, the more it registers what I’m seeing. Like a hammer shattering ice, everything inside me goes from ice cold to a blazing fire. I grip my phone so hard I can hear the sides of it cracking.

  “That motherfucker. I’m going to fucking kill him.”

  I run into my bedroom and grab the gun I have hidden in my dresser drawer. I shouldn’t have one, but I’m not a complete dumbass to leave myself unarmed. I snatch my bike keys off the counter and rush outside.

  Peeling out of the driveway, rocks and dirt fly behind me. I race down the road, thankful I don’t live very far from the warehouse. I skid to a stop near the closest entrance, only remembering to release the kickstand when the bike starts to topple over as I get off. He already knows I'm here, no doubt hearing me pull up. With everyone out on runs, the place is deserted, and any sounds travel through the building like a megaphone.

  I yank the door open, the sound echoing from it being slammed into the brick wall. The gun I have hidden in the back waist of my pants burns into my skin. He doesn’t need to know I have it, not yet at least. When I put a bullet between his eyes, then he’ll fucking know.

  I keep my unbridled rage focused on Ace, letting my feet propel me toward him on autopilot. She comes into view, but I avert my eyes. If I look at her and see the abused condition he has her in, I won’t be able to stop myself from going straight to her. I need to take care of Ace first.

  No, I can't look at her. I'm already hanging on by a thread and ate up with guilt because it's my fault she's here in the first place. She's my weakness, and Ace somehow figured it out. How? I'm not sure, but it doesn't matter, he'll be dead soon.

  “Look who’s here, kitten. And you didn’t think he’d show.” He tsks then cackles. Did she really not think I’d come? The idea of her questioning that twists my insides tighter.

  “You’re a fucking dead man,” I seethe. My hands shake with fury, ready to pummel his face in. I always knew it’d come to this with Ace, and I can’t wait.

  He must see the unhinged crazy in my eyes because he pulls a gun out and presses it against Poppy’s temple. “That’s close enough.” I abruptly stop, chest heaving, jaw clenched tight.

  “Slide your weapons to me.”

  I raise both hands. “Not carrying.”

  The loud bang of a gunshot has Poppy screaming and me flinching.

  “The next one will be in her head.”

  I still don’t look at her, not even as her sobs grow louder. I glower at Ace, ready to call his bluff, but I’m not willing to risk Poppy’s life to do it. He wants me, not her; otherwise she’d be dead already. I pull my knife out of my pocket and toss it near his feet.

  “The gun.” When he sees me hesitate, a sinister grin widens, exposing all his rotten teeth. “Yeah, I know you’re packing. Toss it, or she dies.” I pull the gun from my waistband and slide it near him. Now he has two guns, and I’ve got nothing. With a pleased chuckle, he picks up both items and sets them on the chair next to him.

  “You wanted me? Here I am. Let her go. She’s got nothing to do with this.”

  “Ah, see, that’s where you’re wrong.”

  I shift on my feet, unease digging at the back of my mind. He’s a trigger-happy junkie, but whatever plan he’s executing can’t be his idea. He’s too dumb for this shit. There’s more going on here than just him settling a score with me.

  “Still pissed she chose my dick instead of yours?”

  Goading him isn’t the best idea, but it works when he points the gun at me instead of her. She screams out at Ace to stop, but both of us ignore her. Her life is more important than mine. I smile smugly at him when his lip curls into a snarl.

  “I can’t wait to put you six feet under. Shoulda done it a long time ago but couldn’t risk my deal.”

  I snort and shake my head. “What? This how Ghost gets rid of me? Piece of shit couldn’t even do it himself, so he gets his strung-out lacky to do it.”

  “Ghost ain’t got nothing to do with this. Matter of fact, he should be six feet under himself by now.”

  I stand up straighter, not wanting him to notice the rage I’ve been trying to contain diminishes some. It doesn’t surprise me that someone wants Ghost dead; I’m shocked it doesn’t happen more often. Is it messed up to think like that, especially if he is already dead? Maybe, but no point in worrying about that now. I need more answers from Ace before I beat the shit out of him.

  “You lie.”

  A gloating grin lifts on his ugly face. “Now that Ghost is outta the picture, I’ll be takin’ over. That’s what I was promised to collect his head. Things are ‘bout to change ‘round here. First order of business, ridding the club of its trash.” He reaches out with his free hand and runs it down the side of Poppy’s face. She jerks away, but he grabs her chin and forces her to look at him. I take half a step and then another when he doesn’t notice because he’s occupied with Poppy. It’s a chance I’m willing to risk even with the gun still pointed at me. I hate that he’s touching her, but if it gets me within range of him, then I’ll hold back the bile that’s sitting in my throat.

  He eyeballs me for a second before leaning close to Poppy. He puts his face next to hers, so they’re both staring at me, a sadistic glimmer shining in his eyes. “Kitten, here, is a bonus. Can’t have your little pet off her leash to wander ‘round. She overheard that shit with Barns and no tellin’ what you’ve told her.”

  “She doesn’t know anything.”

  “Like I’d believe you. She knows enough, and that’s all that matters. After she watches you bleed out, I’ll take that sweet pussy of hers and show her w
hat a real man is before I put a bullet in the back of her head.”

  Her eyes widen more, pleading for me to help her. She’s no longer crying, and it’s not hard to see the fight in her has all but died. Seeing it feels like a knife has gutted me. I did that to her. Maybe not directly, but if I’d never gotten involved with her, none of this would be happening to her. My heart begins to crumble under the weight of the guilt. Deep-seated wrath begins to make its presence known from the blackest parts of my soul. Years of pent-up frustration are now leaking out, only needing that extra push to send me over the edge, more than I already am.

  I’m going to destroy anyone who touches her.

  That’s what my violence wants.

  And that’s exactly what it will get.

  I widen my stance and bare my teeth at him. He smirks, still thinking he’s walking out of this alive. My nostrils flare, and I pin him with a cold, hard glare.

  “Does she taste as sweet as she looks?” he taunts. “Let’s find out.” He drags his tongue up the side of her face. It’s the push I need.

  I react faster than he anticipates. I charge at him, not caring about the gun. He pops off a couple shots, but my adrenaline is running wild, if he hit me, I don’t feel a thing. Poppy’s screams fill the space again.

  All I care about is how fantastic it feels when I ram into him. The move tosses him back on his ass, the gun flying out of his hand and away from him. Without hesitating, I jump on top of him, fists swinging.

  I connect with his face and can feel the power behind it when his jaw dislocates. I swing again, loving the blood oozing from his mouth and now his nose. He tries to overpower me but fails. I’m like a feral animal attacking him. I throw punch after punch, pouring everything out of me into him. This incredible rush of euphoria works its way through me. I should be disgusted with myself but I’m not.

  I’m completely lost in what I’m doing that I don’t register the sound of someone shouting. Or when I’m pulled off Ace. Not even when I’m slammed on the ground on my stomach with something heavy holding me in place. I don’t even recognize my own voice as I yell how I need to finish him off.

  I’m yanked up off the ground and come face to face with turquoise eyes. The scent of berries hits me, bringing me out of my bloodlust and into the present. I blink a few times, trying to figure out how she is no longer bound to the pole. That’s when I finally take in the cops surrounding me with all with guns leveled at me and a man with brown hair standing beside Poppy.

  “I’m Special Agent Cameron with the FBI. Ryu Parkland, you’re under arrest.”

  Ryu

  Special Agent Cameron’s hard dark brown eyes drill into me. He’s young but not as young as me. You can tell from the bit of grey shining under the fluorescent lights. The cocky air about him has the hairs on the back of my neck rising. He looks egotistical as hell standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. Bet he was the kid that got picked on at school who vowed payback, so he became a cop. Hiding behind a badge and the false power it represents.

  Badge or no badge, he still bleeds like the rest of us, will die like the rest of us. He smirks when whoever is behind me clasps both my wrists and locks them together in cuffs while reading me my Miranda Rights.

  “Take him outside,” Special Agent Dickface barks.

  I’m shoved forward through the building and out the door. No doubt Dickface is hot on my heels. There are seven cop cars spread out over the yard. This looks familiar.

  I get shoved against a car just in time to see Poppy making her way out the door. Humiliation and shame twist inside me as she watches me get patted down. An officer ushers her far away from me to the ambulance that’s parked at the end of the building. I’m whipped back around with one officer holding me in place by my arm while another continues searching me.

  Special Agent Cameron is still wearing a pleased smile when he approaches us, and it makes me want to punch it right off him. “I’m going to go out on a limb and assume that even if I asked you about what happened, you’d refuse to talk?” When I don’t answer, he laughs and shakes his head. “Predictable.”

  I ignore Dickface, curious about how Poppy is doing. I can’t see much, but it looks like they are checking her out. That makes me feel better. She’s receiving medical attention. But the grateful feeling disappears as fast as it came as I’m reminded of why she’s getting that care.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see a group of people exiting the building. I watch as they bring Ace out on a stretcher. He’s unmoving, covered in blood and wearing an oxygen mask. Satisfaction returns knowing I did that to him.

  “You may want to wipe that grin off your face. He dies and you get charged with murder. Right now, you’re looking at assault charges.”

  Never fails, the moment I feel any type of joy, the shit is ripped out of my grasp. I narrow my eyes at him, wishing I could tell him to fuck off, but I know better than to do that. He grabs my arms and shoves me in the direction of the only blacked-out SUV closest to the road. It looks like the FBI’s furnishing this one well.

  He pushes me in the back of the SUV, slamming the door behind me. I can barely see out the windows, which is a good thing. Means Poppy can’t see in. If I thought her seeing me walk out of jail was embarrassing, this is the icing on the cake. I know I’m no good for her and here is the proof. There’s too much darkness surrounding me, and all I’ve done is tie a rope around her wrist and drag her right into the middle of my shit. I never meant for this to happen.

  I want to be with her, but at what cost? She doesn't deserve this. I’d rather her live a happy, uneventful life without me than follow me down this destructive path. I never should’ve texted her. Hopefully, seeing all this tonight will show her how fast she needs to drop me and forget about our time together.

  I have no idea how long I sit in the back of the SUV before the FBI douche slides into the front driver’s seat. Flames of contempt sizzle under my skin as the vehicle pulls away. A cell rings and Special Agent Dickface answers. “Yeah. . .I got him. Headed in now.” He hangs up then adjusts the rearview mirror to look at me. He doesn’t say a word, just smiles and turns the radio up, blaring country music and singing at the top of his lungs.

  The sound of his voice is making my ears bleed. I shoot daggers at the back of his head, envisioning all the ways I could shut him the hell up. First, I could cut his tongue out and toss it out the window. Another option would be to cut his dick off and shove it down his throat, balls first. I come up with a few more options, each one getting more colorful the longer I’m trapped inside this box on wheels with him. Jeez. I’m actually excited to be thrown in jail, at least then I won’t have to be subjected to this cruel and unusual torment.

  The vehicle eases off the highway onto an exit marked for Chancellorsville. Never been here before, but from the towering buildings I can see through the front windshield, this is a large city.

  We drive a while longer until he finally pulls into a parking lot. And here I was thinking I was headed to jail. From the looks of the brick building, this is not a local police station. As soon as the vehicle is in park, my door opens, and a tall guy with blondish hair yanks me out and all but drags me inside. I’m getting really fucking tired of being yanked around like a ragdoll.

  We walk into what looks like a makeshift office space with cubicles everywhere. Must be some remote FBI location. I’m led into a room that has windows on all sides, one table, a couple chairs, and another guy dressed in an FBI jacket standing in the corner. I get pushed down into a seat and do a quick double-take. Both men in the room look identical. For a second I think I’m losing my shit.

  One keeps his hands on my shoulders while the other takes a metal chain that's bolted to the floor on one end and comes up through the table where it locks in place with my cuffs. The whole thing looks exactly like that scene out of the movie Now You See Me, only difference is I can’t magic my way out of this metal apparatus.

  I scoff and roll my eyes when Dic
kface waltzes into the room, files in hand, and a shit-eating grin on his face.

  Arrogant bastard.

  He opens a file and reads aloud. “Ryu Parkland. A.K.A. Dragon. Juvie record filled with arrests for theft and burglary. Then you upgraded your criminal activity as an adult and decided to assist in a deal transporting stolen goods, which landed you six months in Bricktown Penitentiary. Was in Legion Motorcycle Club but now slumming it with Legion’s Fallen.” He closes the file and sits in the chair across from me. “Honestly, I must say, your record is the cleanest I’ve seen in a long time. Definitely not the usual we see coming from Legion or the Fallen. Then again, assault and possible murder charges will raise your rank. Then tack on possession of a firearm, because I’ve no doubt one of the two guns at the crime scene was yours, you will have made your way even higher. Get to be among some of the worst pieces of shit I’ve seen.”

  “Where’s my prize?” I deadpan, slouching in my chair the best I can, considering I’m hooked on a leash. He thinks he knows me based on papers in a file. He already has me judged and tried. Nothing new. I’m used to it. The only person I let in was Poppy. She got to see glimpses of my true self.

  I turn my head to focus on something else, but I end up sizing up one of the twins. He’s got his arms crossed, staring blankly in front of him. The scowl on his face is what keeps my interest. Is he pissed that he’s here, or is he pissed that his life sucks and he should've made better choices?

  My eyes flick to blonde hair moving past the window. Why did they bring her in? She should’ve been taken to the hospital. My instinct to protect her kicks in, and I jump up out of my chair. The twins are on me fast, trying to shove me back in the chair while Special Agent Dickface chuckles.

  “That one’s got you by the balls, doesn’t she?”

  “Don’t fucking talk about her. She shouldn’t be here. Why isn’t she at the hospital? What the fuck is wrong with you people?” The wobble in my legs from the mounting worry for Poppy causes them to give and I plop back into the seat.