Satan’s Fury MC - Memphis

by Wilder, L.

  After a few blinks of the eyes, Booker finally came around. As soon as he realized that he couldn’t move, he immediately started tugging against his restraints. No matter how hard he tried, his puny, little ass couldn’t begin to break free. “What the fuck?”

  “Welcome back.” Shadow pulled up a chair and sat down in front of Booker, facing him with a menacing glare. “Word on the street is you and your Genocides have taken upon yourselves to go after Satan’s Fury.”

  “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!”

  “Don’t waste my time lying, Booker. I’m not in the fucking mood.” Shadow reached into his back pocket and pulled out his knife, using it to trim his cuticles as he spoke. “We did our research. We know about your plan to seek revenge for Lewis’s death.”

  “You’re wrong. I got no plans to do nothing.”

  Shadow clicked his tongue against his teeth before saying, “Strike one.”

  “I’m serious, man. I …”

  Before he could finish his sentence, Shadow took the knife and rammed it into his thigh, causing Booker to bellow out in pain. “We know Lewis was your cousin. We know you were pissed that we took him and the Disciples down. We know that you started the Genocides in hopes of taking us down. We also know it was you that shot our president.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” With that, Shadow took ahold of the knife and gave it a hard turn, and Booker nearly lost his fucking mind. He reared his head back as he hollered out in anguish, and all I could do was smile. That motherfucker had nearly killed Gus, so whatever Shadow had in store for Booker was much deserved. “Fuck! Just fucking stop.”

  “I’ll stop when you start talking.”

  When Shadow went to turn the knife again, Booker shouted, “You’re right! You’re right about all of. It was me. I’m the one who was behind it all, so just kill me and get it over with!”

  Shadow yanked the knife from his thigh, them slammed it into the other. With Booker screaming curses, Shadow leaned forward, just inches from his face, and said, “You’re not getting off that easy.”

  “What the fuck do you want from me?”

  “I want you to make some calls… I want you to get every fucking member to come here, and I want them to come now.”

  “Why? What da hell ya gonna do?”

  “That’s none of your concern,” Shadow growled. “You’ll make the calls, or I’ll use that knife to fill you full of holes. You get what I’m saying.”

  “Yeah. I get it.” Booker thought for a moment, then asked, “And if I get ’em here, what you gonna do to me?”

  “I’m gonna level with you, Booker. No matter how this thing plays out, you’re not gonna walk out here.” Shadow crossed his arms as he leaned back in his chair. “But you got a choice. You can either go out fast or I can take my time with you…make sure you feel pain like you’ve never felt before. So, what’s it gonna be.”

  “I’ll make the calls.”

  “Thought so.” Shadow pulled the knife from Booker’s thigh, then used it to free one of his hands. “Get your phone and start making the calls.”

  “How am I supposed to get them here?”

  “I’m sure you’ll think of something.” Shadow tone turned threatening as he warned, “Don’t fuck this up, or there’ll be hell to pay.”

  Booker nodded, then made the first call. As soon as the person answered, Booker said, “Yo, Dreads. I’m gonna need you to go by and get Nickels and Tiny. Bring him over to the warehouse ASAP.” There was a brief pause before Booker continued, “I’ll explain when you get here.”

  When he hung up, Shadow asked, “How long will it be before they get here?”

  “Fifteen maybe twenty minutes.”

  Riggs stepped over to Shadow as he announced, “I just checked in with Moose, and they’re in position.”

  “Good.” Shadow turned to me and said, “Now, all we have to do is wait.”

  Just as Booker had said, his men showed twenty minutes later. From the office, Riggs watched Booker’s security feed and used his mic to let us know that they were approaching the front door. “They’re about to come in. Big one in the back, with two in the front.”

  “Got it.”

  With guns in hand, Shadow and I stood on opposite sides of the door with our backs against the wall, staying out of view as we waited for them to enter to the building. My heart started to race as the door opened, and the three men stepped inside, walking past us as they talked amongst themselves. It was clear that they had no idea we were behind them when they continued towards the office. I glanced over to Shadow, and as soon as he gave me the nod, we both stepped out of hiding. I aimed my gun at the big guy first. I wasn’t one who liked shooting a man in the back, but the thought of Gus being laid up in that hospital had me squeezing the trigger. The deafening sound of gunfire echoed through the warehouse as Shadow and I instantly killed two of the three men. When the third started to bolt, I shifted my aim towards him, shooting twice before he dropped to the ground. The scent of burnt gunpowder filled my nose as I looked down at the lifeless bodies sprawled out on the floor.

  Shadow stepped over to them, giving each of them a nudge with his boot, and once he was certain they were each dead, he looked over to me and said, “You radio into Moose while I go up and get Booker to make the next round of calls.”

  “You got it.”

  As soon as I got word to Moose that the coast was clear, the brothers rushed into the warehouse and moved the bodies into the car the driven there. They were busy cleaning up the mess and driving the car next door, while Shadow and I went upstairs to deal with Booker. Shadow took Booker’s phone and put it into Booker’s free hand as he said, “Time to make another call.”

  “I heard gunshots.” Panic filled his voice as he said, “What the fuck did you do to them?”

  “That’s none of your concern. Make the fucking call.”

  “You killed them, didn’t you?”

  Shadow got in his face as he roared, “Make the fucking call!”

  “Fine. I’ll do it.” With his hands trembling, Booker dialed another number, and as soon as the guy answered, Booker said, “Hey, man. I need you to go get Puckett and Leon, and bring them over to the warehouse.” There was a brief pause before he said, “I don’t give a fuck. Get them and get your ass over here.”

  With a defeated look in his eyes, he hung up the phone and handed it back to Shadow. As he shoved it into his back pocket, Shadow glared down at him and said, “Just remember. You brought this shit on yourself.”

  “You killed KeShawn in cold blood. Did you really think you’d get away with that shit?”

  “He, just like you, thought he could fuck with Fury. That’s on him, and the tonight is totally on you. Every man you brought into this club of yours is a dead man, and you are the man responsible. For every gunshot you hear, just remember that. You did this. You and only you.”

  Before Booker could respond, Shadow stormed out of the office. I followed him downstairs, and neither of us spoke as we got into our position at the door. We were all ready and waiting when the next group arrived. We followed this same cycle over and over, and like we were killing a line of fucking ants, we picked them off one by one, putting an end to the Genocides.

  I’d like to say our work was done, but it wasn’t. Not even close. In order to make look like a gang attack, we had to bring each of the bodies back inside the warehouse, then torch the place along with all the cars. It took a hell of an explosion to ensure that there would be little left of their remains, but Riggs came through, yet again. The place looked like a fucking war zone when we were done, and rightly so. We’d taken out the very army of men who’d tried to rise up against us, and we’d done it together—as brothers. Even though he hadn’t been able to be fight alongside us, Gus was there in our hearts, urging us on, and for him, we’d do it all again and again.

  CHAPTER 16

  Alyssa

  I’d like to say that everythi
ng in my life was going great, that I was happy as a lark and things couldn’t be better, but if I did, I would be lying. In truth, I was a mess. I was exhausted all the time, barely able to get out of the bed in the morning, and even when I was up and going, I felt like I was in a fog. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. My mind was always racing. When I told my mother how I’d been feeling, she convinced me that I was just depressed. She told me over and over that it would pass, but it had been two months since the night I broke it off with Beckett and I was still feeling like a unyielding weight was baring down on me. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t seem to shake it. Out of concern for my well-being, my mother came down for another visit. She’d already come two times before, and while it was nice to have the company, it did little to help. But, if anything, my mother was persistent. She was determined to get me back on track.

  We’d stayed up late the night before watching some romantic comedy on TV, so I expected her to sleep in. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. She was up before eight, and from the racket she was making in the kitchen, I could only assume that she was trying to get me up as well. With a heavy sigh, I tossed my covers back and forced myself out of bed. I drug myself into the kitchen and found my dear, sweet mother washing my dishes by hand. I plopped down on one of the stools and groaned, “You do know I have a dishwasher, right?”

  “I do.” She continued scrubbing away as she said, “There weren’t many, so I decided to do them myself.”

  “Suit yourself.” I laid my head down on the counter as I asked, “Did you make coffee?”

  “I did.” Instead of offering to get it for me, she suggested, “Why don’t you get up and make yourself a cup?”

  “Fff-iiine. Ugh.”

  I stood up with an agonizing groan and like an overdramatized zombie, I shuffled over to the coffee pot. I knew I was being childish and needy, but I felt like I was on my last limb and just wanted to crawl back into bed. Mom glanced over her should, watching silently as I poured myself some coffee, then shuffled back over to my spot at the counter. With an exasperated sigh, she shook her head and fussed, “Alyssa, you’re gonna have to snap out of this mood of yours. It’s gone on for too long.”

  “I’m well aware of that, Mother. I’m trying.”

  “Well, you’re not trying hard enough,” she scolded. “It’s just a break up. Women go through this kind of thing all the time. You need to pick yourself up and stop behaving like your world is ending.”

  “I know that’s what I should do, but …”

  “No, buts!” She pointed her finger towards my bedroom. “Go in there, take a shower, put on some makeup, and at least put a little effort into starting your day off right.”

  “I will. Can I at least finish my coffee first?”

  “Yes, you can finish your coffee.” She dried her hands with one of my kitchen towels, then walked over to me with a troubled expression. “Maybe you should go see a doctor.”

  “Mom, there’s no magic pill that’s going to suddenly make me feel better.”

  “You never know…You could have a vitamin deficiency or something.”

  “I doubt it.” Going to the doctor wasn’t the worst idea. I had several things going on that should’ve been addressed, but I didn’t have the time nor the energy to mess with making an appointment and actually getting myself to a doctor’s office. “Besides, with my crazy work schedule, I don’t have time to go to the doctor right now.”

  “Well, if this thing with your depression continues, I’m going to insist that you go.” She picked up the TV remote and turned on the small television that Beckett had mounted on the wall next to refrigerator. The second it came on, the news popped up on the screen. As usual, the local reporter was talking about all the recent gang violence that had erupted throughout the city. It seemed like they’d all decided at once to have this crazy uprising and were causing all kinds of mayhem in the projects. Mom shook her head and sighed. “It’s bad enough that I have to worry about your mental state, but with all this going on, I have to worry about your safety, too. Hmph. It’s just not right.”

  “You don’t have to worry about my safety. I’m perfectly safe here.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t have to worry so much if I knew your brother was checking in on you, but you had to go and tell him to…”

  “Mom. You know my reasons for telling him to give me my space.”

  I hadn’t told her about that night and what I’d seen. I simply explained I didn’t explain that I wanted to have to depend on Clay all the time, that I needed to figure out things on my own and have a little privacy, but I couldn’t do that with him always around. She didn’t like it, but I think a part of her understood—or so I thought. “Well, you could still let him check in on you from time to time. If for no other reason than to make your mother feel better.”

  “It’s not like I don’t ever talk to him, Mom. We talk on the phone and…”

  “It’s not the same and you know it, but I won’t push. I’ll leave it at that.” She leaned forward, peering down at my empty coffee cup. “Looks like it’s time for you to hit the shower.”

  “You’re like my own personal drill sergeant.”

  “Alyssa.”

  “Fine.” I stood up and started out of the room. “I’ll go get ready. I’ll even put on makeup, but it’s not going to make me feel any better.”

  “Yes, it will!”

  I didn’t bother arguing. Instead, I went to my room, closed the door, and collapsed on the bed. I laid there for a few minutes, contemplating my life, and after several minutes of drowning in my sorrows, I pulled myself out of bed and went to the bathroom. I turned on the shower, and after I undressed, I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked like a complete disaster. My hair was tangled, there were these big dark circles under my eyes, and even though I hadn’t been eating much, it looked like I was gaining weight. As I stood there staring at myself, I decided my mother was right. I needed to start taking better care of myself, stop all the moping, and get a little exercise before I swelled up like a balloon. With a new-found resolve, I got in the shower, and once I got out, I put on makeup and even fixed my hair. I have to admit, once I was dressed, I looked pretty decent.

  I grabbed my purse and keys, and the second I stepped out of my room, my mother gasped and said, “You look great!”

  “Thanks, Mom.” I gave her a half-smile as I said, “You were right. I do feel a little better.”

  “I knew you would.” She reached over and gave me a hug. “Have a great day at work. I’ll make dinner while you’re gone.”

  “That would be great.”

  “Is there anything else I can do?”

  I shook my head. “No. You’ve already done more than enough.”

  “Okay. Well, I’m going to go over and spend a little time with Landry and Clay.”

  “Sounds good.” As I walked out the door, I told her, “Tell them both I said hello.”

  Without giving her a chance to respond with a snarky comment, I closed the door and headed to work. I used the drive over to try and mentally prepare myself for the day ahead. It wasn’t easy. I was still feeling tired and wasn’t really up for another long day, but I pushed those thoughts out of my head and forced myself to think positively. I tried to focus on the fact that things were going really well with my internship. I’d even gotten lots of positive feedback from Bisset and the owner on how well I’d been doing. Bisset had even gone so far as to say that I showed real potential of becoming a permanent fixture there, and it wouldn’t be long before I was promoted again. That alone was enough to lighten my spirits as I headed into the restaurant. I went to my locker, and I’d just started to put on my apron when Jack walked in. A bright smile crossed his face as he said, “Wow. Look at you. You look amazing.”

  “You saying I don’t normally look amazing?” I teased.

  “Girl, you know you’ve been looking a little on the rough side the past couple of months, but it’s understandable. You’ve been
through a lot.”

  “Well, starting today, I’m going to try a little harder to put that all behind me and start…”

  Before I could finish, Bisset stepped into the locker room and called out to me. “Hey, Alyssa. You got a minute. I need a word.”

  “Sure.” Normally, I would’ve been concerned about the fact that Bisset wanted to talk to me, but something about his tone that had me feeling a little curious as I made my way over to him. In case I’d read him wrong, I asked, “Is something wrong?”

  “No, not at all.” I followed when he stepped away from the doorway and into a private corner. “Antoine and I were talking, and we both feel that you’ve earned the opportunity to move up in the line.”

  Antoine Boucher was the lead chef at the restaurant, and the mere fact that he’d even noticed me was mind-blowing. I couldn’t hide my excitement as I said, “Wow. That’s incredible. Thanks so much.”

  “Don’t get too excited just yet.” His tone grew serious as he continued, “You’ll have to prove yourself before we’re just going to hand over the promotion.”

  “And how do I do that?”

  “On Sunday afternoon, you will come to the restaurant and present Antoine and myself with a dish of your own of your own creation. If it is worthy, then we will consider making the move. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir. Understood.”

  “Good.” He glanced over the clock as he said, “Time to get to work.”

  “Yes, sir. I’m on my way.”

  When he left to go to the kitchen, I rushed back into the locker room and started jumping up and down like a lunatic. Even though he had no idea why I was so excited, Jack started jumping around right along with me. After several seconds, he started laughing and asked, “You gonna tell me what we’re celebrating?”

  I stopped jumping just long enough to tell him, “It’s finally happening. I’m getting my shot at being a real chef! No more cutting potatoes or plating food. I’m finally going to get a chance to show them what I can really do.”