Fugitive (The Houston Defiance MC Series Book 3)

by K E Osborn

Zero widens his eyes, obviously liking what I’m saying, but Ethan scoffs. “As if you guys didn’t already know that. Why do you think I’m here? To search for shit on you? C’mon… I know you know I am straight down the line, and I’ve been coming hard for you… a lot, but right now my family is here, and while they’re here, I want them safe. They’re all that matter to me. Fuck the damn rules. That’s why I’m gonna be in shit with Hammond when I get back because this makes me look bad. Not you bastards… so put your cock away, Zero, I’m not here to fight.”

  Zero’s tight shoulders relax. “Right! What do you know about all this shit with the Baron and Damir?”

  Ethan lets out a long breath. “From what I could gather in the reports coming out of the station, the security footage in prison has them both being visited by a correctional officer with a package. They both change into guard uniforms, then walk straight out. They had swipe passes, everything they needed. They’re still trying to verify who the officer or officers were who helped them and why.”

  “The problem with having the Baron and Damir in the same jail is they will have conspired against us. They have a common enemy in the club. I’m not sure what their plan is, but I do know it’s coming,” Zero grumbles.

  Neon types something into his keyboard, gaining our attention. “From what I can tell, there’s been no chatter from the Triglav Clan about a return from Damir, and there’s nothing in the Baron’s financials to say he’s accessing them.”

  Zero sits back in his chair, threading his fingers together in a fist. “I had a call last night, a tip if you will from a reliable source… I’ve been given a deadline.”

  Everyone in the room shifts uncomfortably. “What do you mean, a deadline?” I ask.

  “I was told we have five days. The Baron and Damir are attacking the club in five days.”

  Wraith scoffs as we all stare at our president in disbelief. “So, what the hell are we gonna do about that piece of information? And who the fuck is giving you this so-called credible information?”

  Zero sighs. “Who is not important. What matters is, we have a deadline, and that works in our favor. While the Baron and Damir are rallying their damn troops, we can get the women and children out of the clubhouse and somewhere safe. Once that’s done, we arm up and get shit in place to fight these bastards. We have the upper hand.”

  My muscles relax a little as I sink into my chair. “We stay and fight?”

  Zero nods. “Exactly. We have to protect our families first. I feel the best way… no, the only way to do that is to get them the hell out of here.”

  “When do they leave?” Neon asks.

  “We’ll get them all heading to safe houses around the country tonight. I have to get them all lined up. Call in a few favors which I am doing now. I have calls in everywhere.”

  “Want me to cook up a lunchtime feast to keep the spirits up?” Fox asks.

  “Good idea. We’ll get everyone in the cookout area before we’re all separated.”

  Houston Defiance has never seen a plan like this. Splitting the members and disbanding them across the country is unheard of. I just hope like fuck it’s the right move because while we’re here fighting a war, no one is going to be out there protecting them.

  With the knowledge that the women and children will be leaving in a matter of a couple of hours, the mood is low. Everyone is trying to remain upbeat, but we all know what’s at stake here. We all know that this could be the last time all of us are together, and that any one of us might not make it through the impending war that’s being laid at our feet.

  Finley’s chatting with Texas over by the grill. I don’t think I’ve ever seen them talk to each other before. She’s getting to know all the brothers at the club, and that’s good because she’s fitting in.

  Jovie’s sitting on my lap as we assemble around the fire pit. She snuggles into me. She’s extra affectionate this evening. I could seriously get used to this as Neon and Slick chat among themselves.

  “Yeah, Dan’s getting grouchy with Elway. Their rivalry is fucking intense, man,” Slick advises as he relaxes back into the seat, bringing his beer to his lips.

  “Is it just because they’re rivals that they hate each other so much, or is there something else there?” Neon asks the question we all want to know the answer to about the drag racing rivals.

  “Honestly, brother, I have no fucking clue. Dan talks to me about a lot of shit, but this rivalry, he keeps close to his chest. Sometimes I start to wonder if it’s all for show, you know… for the fans? But then I see them alone together, and it’s real, the hatred is there. So much so it’s fucking palpable.”

  Jovie sits a little taller listening in. “You work out at the drag strip, right, Slick?” Jovie asks, trying to get a handle on this conversation.

  “Yeah, I’m the crew chief for Dan Ferguson, Top Fuel.”

  “Shit, I think I’ve heard of him. I used to watch it sometimes when I was working back in San Antonio. It was playing on the TV in the bar. His name would be on the screen all the time,” Jovie states.

  Slick snorts. “Yeah, he knows it, too, the cocky shithead.”

  “He’s good, though, right. Wins a lot?”

  “Yeah… he does. Has a damn good team behind him, even if I do say so myself.”

  “I’d love to watch you guys in action one day.”

  “We’ll have to get everyone out to the track soon,” Kevlar offers.

  “This is a great idea. I know Cherry really wants to go, ever since Zero told her about it,” Neon adds.

  “The team is coming into Houston in the next few weeks. I’ll tee it up with Dan to get everyone passes. It can be a club outing.”

  Jovie’s lips turn up so fucking wide, I wonder if her cheeks are going to split. “I’m so excited. Thank you, Slick.”

  “Not a hassle. I love it when the guys come to the track. Makes me appear more hardcore.”

  We all chuckle as Bub walks over handing Jovie another drink. “I’ve never seen my grandbabies as happy as they are since your arrival, Jovie. I sure am glad you showed up, just in the nick of time.”

  Jovie tilts her head. “In the nick of time?”

  “Yeah, I thought Kevlar was never going to move on. Seeing this family happy again is exactly what we all need.”

  “Okay, Bub, let’s not overwhelm, Jovie,” I state.

  Jovie reaches out for Bub’s hand. “I’m glad I make them all happy because they make me undeniably happy, too.”

  Bub pulls Jovie up into a hug.

  The squealing of tires makes us all stop.

  We look toward the gate.

  My stomach falls the instant recognition hits me.

  The clicking of bullets moving into their chambers turns everything into slow motion.

  “Everyone drop!” Zero yells.

  I grab Jovie, yanking her, pulling her underneath me. My hands move over my head as I surround her. Within a second, the rampaging bullets start hurtling through the club gate. The reinforced steel would normally hold, but with the sheer amount blasting through and slamming into our bikes and bursting chips of brick from the side of the clubhouse, I can tell the firepower is immense. Fox’s grill even rattles with the holes slamming into the hood while the rest of us remain face-first on the concrete waiting for the barrage of bullets to stop their explosive attack.

  Whoever this is will need to reload at some point.

  That’s when we make our move.

  Jovie’s panting frantically beneath me. I move my eyes over to Ethan and Lou, who are practically in the same pose as us, and Fox has Bub hidden underneath a bench seat. We have no fucking clue what reinforcements these men are coming in with, but we sure as hell know who’s leading the charge.

  Baron and Damir.

  The bullets slowly come to a halt, giving us all time to catch our breath.

  I slide my hand over Jovie’s face. “You okay?” She nods. “I need you to get inside to the kids. Don’t stop, no matter what happens. Okay?
”

  She sniffles, wiping the tears away from her face. “Okay.”

  “Go. Go now, Jovie.” I let her up, then she takes off staying low.

  Lou follows her as they run inside the clubhouse, making it to the stairs.

  I turn back. Zero signals for us to stand and fight whatever’s coming our way. We all rush over to the oil barrels lining the side of the clubhouse and yank off the lids. Once we knew an attack was imminent, we planted artillery all over the place in case of an ambush.

  Pulling out the loaded Winchester M97, I click off the safety, then pump the bullet into the chamber as a truck revs its engine behind the gate. I tense, my eyes shifting to Neon.

  His eyes drop to his tablet. “They’re gonna fucking ram it! We’re about to have company.”

  Suddenly, a fucking massive delivery van slams through the clubhouse gates. They disintegrate with the force of the hit, flying off their reinforced hinges. The front of the van has a giant metal battering ram in the shape of a triangle.

  They mean business.

  All of us unload a clip each into the front cab of the van, but it doesn’t stop, driving straight into the compound, continuing to our bikes, and taking them out one by one. The screeching and scraping of the metal tears at my very soul as the general groans of anger from my brothers rip through the air.

  Whoever’s driving that van is a dead man.

  Come after us, but don’t aim for our bikes without expecting your limbs to be torn from your body.

  The van eventually comes to a halt. We all aim our guns at the driver’s side waiting for the fucker to get out, but the back of the delivery van rear door slides up. My heart rapid fires, ready to attack, but there’s nothing, just a ceramic skull ashtray sitting on the tray bed with a lit cigarette smoldering on its head.

  “It’s a distraction, Zero,” I call out.

  We all turn toward the now wide-open gate rushing toward it like raging bulls.

  Suddenly, a shock wave so fucking intense slams into us from the van. We all crash into the side of the clubhouse, hitting the brick with such force my breath is ripped from me. Flames engulf the van with the explosion as I collapse to the ground, my ears ringing so dramatically I can’t hear anything. My stomach tightens with the brunt of the hit to my system, but I have to shake this off because if I’ve learned anything, now is when these assholes are going to strike—when we’re all down and out.

  Somehow my head lifts, and Damir and the Baron waltz in like they own the fucking place. To their left are another three men. A new group must have teamed up with them, but there’s a familiarity I can’t place. The eldest has half a face full of scarring like burns. Anger flares inside of me as Zero and Wraith take off first, heading straight for the Baron and Damir, but the Baron’s mercenaries and members of the Triglav Clan run through the gates. I pick myself up, Ethan by my side as he dusts himself off, pulling out his gun.

  If he involves himself in this, it could end his career.

  “You don’t need to fight with us.”

  “My family’s here. I’m not standing back and letting these fuckers hurt what’s mine!” Ethan clicks off his safety, taking off toward where the fighting has already begun.

  I roll my shoulders, running toward the fight. Bullets scorch the air as my brothers fight, hand to hand. I run, trying to get to the man with the burned face, but a mercenary aims his gun at me. I slam my palm into his wrist. The pistol fires beside my ear, making my eyes water as the gun knocks from his fingers. I reach around, grabbing mine, and pointing it directly into his chest, pulling back on the trigger once. The gun recoils as he lets out a strange gurgle sound. The smell of the smoke from the bullet escaping the chamber lingers in the air. He stumbles backward, falling to the ground clinging to his stomach—blood seeping down his torso.

  The burned man disappears from my sight, so I take off toward a Triglav, who’s aiming a machine gun at the fucking clubhouse. He’s slamming bullets into the side of it, right where the upstairs bedrooms are located, right where my kids and Jovie could be. Anger rages through me while I race for him with everything I have. The rat-a-tat of the machine gun making my insides jerk in fear. I slide out underneath the clan member, knocking his feet out from under him.

  We both fall to the ground, the bullets from the machine gun firing up into the Houston night air as he clatters onto the concrete. I bring my elbow up, slamming it down into the middle of his chest. He gasps for air, causing him to drop the gun, rolling over on his ass, trying to grip hold of me. His legs kick up, pushing me off him, and I slide back across the concrete, a stray bullet barely missing my bicep as I go.

  But I’m not done with this asshole yet.

  I push up the same time he does, but he pulls out a small triangular knife. He lunges forward at me swiping the blade across my body, but I jump back out of the way. Keeping my guard up, I’m ready for this fight. He lunges again, but I sidestep, slamming my fist into his temple—pain sears through my knuckles. A slow smile creeps up my face. He stumbles slightly, but then he turns with force, swiping at me again. I jerk back out of the way, but his blade connects, only just, slicing through my shirt and the edge of my cut. He chuckles menacingly, bringing his hands up as if he’s preparing to box with me.

  “You’re going to pay for that, you fucking asshole,” I sneer.

  “Oh, yeah? Vat you gonna do, you scum dog?” the Slav jests.

  “Nothing… but I am!” Ethan grunts from behind the Slav, then pulls his trigger.

  A single bullet bursts through the Slav’s head. Blood and brain matter splatter all over me. I scrunch my face up in disgust as the Slav topples to the ground, no life left in him.

  I widen my eyes at Ethan.

  This is his first kill not on the job.

  And it was to save me.

  I swipe the asshole’s blood away from my face. “You didn’t need to do that.”

  Ethan rolls his shoulders. “Yeah, I did. He was aiming at the bedrooms. You and I both know who’s up there and what it could mean.”

  I grip Ethan’s shoulder, then peer over mine. This fight is nowhere near finished. “Thanks, brother, now let’s end this!”

  Ethan nods, and we take off in opposite directions. Everyone’s putting up the fight of their lives. Neon and Texas are in a head-to-head with four mercenaries, but they can handle themselves. I pass Wraith sitting on the back of a Slav, breaking his neck with his bare hands while Zero’s fighting like hell to get to the Baron. I slide in next to Ax and Slick, who are each struggling with mercenaries, so I walk up behind them both, shooting them one after the other in the back. They both topple to the ground, gasping for air as Ax and Slick pull out their guns, finishing them off.

  “Cheers, brother. These fuckers know how to fight,” Ax grunts.

  “Tell me about it!”

  “Shit!” Slick groans as I peer over my shoulder.

  Dammit all to hell! There are a lot more men heading through the gates, but it’s not just mercenaries and Slavs but others as well. We’re heavily outnumbered. Three to one—they take a stand at the entrance to the clubhouse blocking any way for us to exit.

  Everything slows into a motion so still it captures my breath.

  It’s as if all the fighting stops just like that—everyone in the club knows there’s no fucking way we can win this war.

  We’re totally fucked.

  KEVLAR

  Rushed footsteps and panicked squeals echo from behind me, so I turn. The women of the club are ushered toward us. I just have to hope that because the club girls aren’t out here, it means they have my kids safe somewhere. Jovie’s tear-filled eyes meet mine. I want to run to her, tell her it’s all going to be fine, but her eyes shift from me to the man gripping her arm forcefully, and instantly I know something is wrong.

  She knows him.

  This isn’t just the Baron and Damir’s men.

  Then, it hits me like a ton of fucking bricks. It slams me square in the stomach, making me
gasp for air. The reason those men are familiar, it’s not because I know them, it’s because they look like Jovie.

  The other men here are the fucking Slavers.

  And they’re here for Jovie.

  I start moving, faster than my feet can carry me, rushing toward Jovie and the man dragging her out. He directs his gun at me as Jovie lets out a whimper. “No! River, stop, please. Don’t shoot him,” she calls out.

  River turns the gun from me back to Jovie, aiming it at her head. I stop, raising my arms, fear sweeping through me as I stare him down. “You hurt her, I swear to God, I will fuck you up!"

  River chuckles and continues walking her away. But a sudden rush of fighting brothers and men swarm between us, blocking my path.

  I can’t fucking get to her.

  I turn, frantically trying to swarm through the fray, and that’s when the Baron places a gun against Zero’s head. But Zero’s quick, knocking the gun from the Baron’s hold and turning his anger on him. I tense, watching the Baron and Zero attack each other in an all-out fistfight. I spin, trying to find Wraith, but he drops to his knees with a Slav holding him down, then Damir kicks into Wraith’s side harshly. Dammit! He’s completely outnumbered.

  Prinie’s standing by the clubhouse door crying with Cherry holding her back.

  Suddenly, Koda rushes out of the clubhouse, gun in hand on a fucking mission.

  My eyes widen, but I don’t have time to react before he fires off a round toward Damir.

  A mercenary shoots back at Koda—it all happens so fucking fast.

  Prinie screams as Koda drops like a lead weight to the ground. Blood pools out of his leg, and Prinie drops to his side, pressing on his wound frantically.

  This shit’s fucking chaos.

  We’re overrun.

  We are outnumbered.

  There’s no way we’re all coming out of this alive.

  I pick up the machine gun, hoping like hell there are some bullets left. Quickly locking it into place, I start mowing down the fucking mercenaries. The shudder of the weapon has the adrenaline surging through my veins as I wipe those fuckers out one by one in rapid succession.