Wreck & Ruin

Home > Other > Wreck & Ruin > Page 31
Wreck & Ruin Page 31

by Emma Slate


  “This event is because of the Blue Angels. All under wraps, mind you, because we don’t want to make people uncomfortable. We give back to our town, and maybe that’s all anyone can ever hope to do, you know?”

  He squeezed the back of my neck and then let go. “Can we be done talking about this now?”

  “Yeah, we can be done.”

  He smirked. “Can we talk about when we can get out of here?”

  “Not for a while yet. Oh, and when all this stuff is sorted with the Iron Horsemen, I told Darcy we’d take her kids for the weekend.”

  “Why would you do a thing like that?” he demanded.

  I grinned. “So she and Gray can remember what it’s like to be childless for a couple of days. And then I can give you an idea of what our life is gonna be like when we finally decide to go that route.”

  “You think you’re gonna scare me away from it, but ten bucks says it backfires. You’re gonna see how hot I look caring for kids and you’re gonna beg me to—”

  I jumped into his arms and sealed his lips with mine. Partly so he wouldn’t say anything dirty in public and partly just so I could kiss him.

  After we got our hotdogs and burgers, we took them to a spot on the grass. Lily finished her hot dog in record time and then asked for ice cream instead of a cotton candy.

  “Let’s wait a minute,” I suggested, not wanting to deal with an upset stomach if I let her gorge too fast.

  “But—”

  “Listen to Mia,” Colt commanded gently but firmly. Lily closed her mouth and crossed her arms over her chest. Then she widened her eyes and gazed at Colt.

  “Don’t look at me that way,” he said, his voice losing some of his gruffness. “I’m immune to manipulation.”

  Lily dropped the act and frowned. “What’s immune mean?”

  “It means that look you use on your parents won’t work on Colt,” I answered.

  “Rats,” Lily said.

  “Ten minutes,” Colt relented. “Then you and Cam can have your dessert.”

  Cam and Lily high-fived. “Can I go play with my friend Brock?” Cam asked.

  “Where’s Brock?” I asked.

  Cam pointed out a dark-haired boy. Something about Brock looked familiar.

  “Okay,” I said. “But you have to stay where I can see you.”

  Cam scrambled up from the grass and dashed after his friend.

  “What about you, Lily Burger?” I teased. “You want to go play with them, too?”

  She shook her head. “They don’t like it when I tag along.”

  “We’re more fun anyway,” Colt said.

  “Who’s Brock?” I asked Colt.

  “Laura’s son.”

  “Ah.”

  Lily climbed into my lap and I hugged her. I pressed my cheek to her blond head and closed my eyes. There was something about Lily. Maybe it was her inherent sweetness, her trusting nature, even though she hardly knew me. But I realized how much I wanted to be around to see her grow up. To paint her toenails and give her advice. To see her go to prom with a nice boy who respected her.

  An ache formed in my throat and swelled when I thought of Knight, who’d missed all of that with me. I didn’t know what kind of father he would’ve been, but the photo he’d shown me of him and my mother, and my mother’s smile…

  She left him not because she didn’t love him, but because she wanted to protect me from Knight’s way of life.

  I glanced at Knight who was standing with Bishop and Boxer. He threw his head back and laughed, and I realized in that moment that I wanted to know him. It wouldn’t make up for lost time, and all the years he hadn’t been there could not be gotten back, but that was neither of our faults and it wasn’t fair to punish him for my mother’s choice.

  It was time for Knight to be a part of my life.

  “What’s that smile about?” Colt asked.

  “I’m just…happy. Despite all the crazy.”

  “Has it been ten minutes yet?” Lily asked impatiently, effectively ruining the intimacy of the moment.

  “It’s been long enough, honey. Let’s get you an ice cream,” Colt said.

  I turned to Cam and Brock and yelled out, “You guys want ice cream?”

  The young boys ran toward us, boisterous and full of energy, eager for sugar, which they clearly didn’t need.

  And then I heard the sound of motorcycles, followed by a series of gunshots and the screams of terrified children.

  “Brock!” Laura shrieked.

  “Mom!” Brock howled, darting toward her.

  “Stop him!” I screamed to Colt as I shoved Lily behind me to shield her. “Laura! Get down! We’ve got Brock!”

  More gunshots rang out and I heard a distant scream. Laura tucked and rolled behind one of the bushes, and Colt didn’t hesitate as he ran for Brock. Cam was frozen in fear next to his friend; Colt grabbed both boys and pushed them to the ground. “Stay down,” Colt commanded. “Crawl on your bellies to the hot dog truck. Get behind it and stay there. Go!”

  The boys snuck off, and I gave a sigh of relief when I saw them make it to safety.

  Colt took out his pistol and peered around, looking for threats. I crouched and slid across the grass, all the while making sure my body was in front of Lily’s.

  “Be careful,” I called to him over the roar of motorcycle pipes and shots.

  I continued to slither with Lily until we made it to the hot dog truck. Brock and Cameron were sitting with their backs against the vehicle, terrified, pale, and shaking.

  “It’s okay,” I whispered repeatedly, trying to wrap my arms around all three of them, wanting to block out the noise but unable to.

  “Cover your ears,” I commanded all of them. Once they did what they were told, I peeked around the back of the truck to survey what was going on.

  Five masked men in white T-shirts sat atop motorcycles with weapons drawn, letting off shots at anything that moved, the chrome of their bikes gleaming in the sunshine, their presence sending fear through the crowd.

  I knew it was the Iron Horsemen, but why was Dev bringing this war out into the open instead of keeping it between clubs and on club territory?

  He’d violated the sacred code of not bringing a war to families. Colt would kill him for it.

  They reloaded their firearms and opened fire again, causing more panic and screaming. I felt Lily trembling beside me and I reached a hand out to her, but my eyes were scanning the park, searching for the people who were my family. I removed the pistol from the holster at my hip, feeling safer with a weapon in my hand. I’d defend myself and protect the children. Whatever the cost.

  I saw Colt in the middle of the park, helping a woman and her child toward the safety of the public restrooms, which left him out in the open.

  The Iron Horsemen didn’t waste any time as they fired off another round of shots, and I watched as Colt fell to his knees. His face was a picture of shock as his hand went to his side, covering a bloody stain on his shirt.

  I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came out.

  Colt lifted his pistol and fired off a few shots toward the Iron Horsemen, but they went wide and he missed.

  He dropped his weapon to his side, a look of angry resignation passing over his face as if he could hardly believe he was going out that way.

  Turning his head, his eyes found mine. There was nothing but remorse shining out from them, silently apologizing for the life we wouldn’t get to share.

  Colt mouthed something to me and even though it was too far away to lip-read, I knew what he was saying.

  I love you.

  “Fuck that, Colt,” I whispered, tears spilling from my eyes.

  Hope drained from his face, mine going with his. I refused to look away, I refused to let him think he was dying alone, that I wasn’t dying with him. Because I was. Every last bit of me that had survived the death of my mother and grandmother, would die now, too. Colt had helped me live. He’d helped me love.

  More
gunshots from across the park pulled his attention and a slow smile crept across his face as though he had embraced the finality of what was to come.

  “Get down, you bloody fool!” Flynn Campbell yelled from behind a large oak tree.

  Colt heard him and flopped to the grass, letting out a moan, his eyes closing.

  Flynn yelled in a foreign tongue, which sounded very much like a war cry. Men swarmed from every avenue, armed, ready, and firing at the Iron Horsemen.

  My heart was torn in two. The love of my life was bleeding out on the lawn, but there were three children who needed my protection.

  My savior came in the form of Darcy who had somehow managed to avoid the fray and snuck up against the hot dog truck. No danger would stand between a mother and her babies. She sent me an overwhelming look of gratitude for protecting her children, but then she gestured with her chin at Colt.

  “I know,” I whispered. “I have to go to him. It might already be too—”

  “Go,” she urged.

  I attempted to hand her my pistol but she shook her head. “I’ve got one.”

  All rational thought for my own safety left my mind, and before I stopped to think if it was a good idea or not, I was up and running toward Colt. I didn’t get far because someone tackled me from behind and I went down hard, teeth rattling in my head.

  “Let me up!” I wheezed, attempting to get out from underneath a solid body of muscle.

  “I’m not gonna let you die,” Knight murmured in my ear.

  “I’m not gonna die,” I snapped.

  Gunshots rang out, cutting through the screams. I managed to lift my head, enough so that I could watch more people dodge bullets and run for cover.

  “Let me up,” I commanded again.

  Knight’s hand went to my head and pressed it into the grass. “No.”

  “Colt—I have to go to him.”

  He sighed. “All right, but you crawl. You stay low to the ground. The brothers need my help. You promise me you’ll stay low!”

  “I promise.”

  Knight reluctantly released me and then went to join the fight. I hadn’t considered him my father, but he’d thrown himself over me, shielding me from the spray of bullets. It was true paternal instinct.

  I crawled on my hands and knees, my pistol still in my grasp. When I got to Colt, I pressed two fingers to the pulse of his neck. It was rapid but strong.

  I let out a breath.

  “No, get to safety,” he croaked, opening one eye.

  “Hush.” I set my weapon next to me and pulled up his shirt to assess the damage. Not that I had any idea what I was looking for.

  “Mia, get out of here, it’s not safe,” he gritted as I lowered his shirt and mashed it into his side to staunch the flow of blood.

  “I’m not leaving you.”

  Flynn bellowed from behind us and it jarred me out my stupor. I took Colt’s right hand and pressed it to his left side.

  “Press here, and hold tight,” I said.

  Adrenaline coursed through my veins. The love of my life, the last person in the world I could bear to lose had been shot by a man who was hell-bent on killing me and destroying everything I loved.

  Anger, unlike anything I’d ever felt, burned inside of me, demolishing every last trace of fear.

  I watched as the Iron Horsemen drove around, trying to circle Flynn and escape his men. One of the bikers approaching on a motorcycle caught my eye. It was Dev and his mask had slipped during the fight.

  The bastard had made this personal.

  I picked up my pistol, lifted myself slowly to balance on one knee, and locked eyes with Dev as his motorcycle roared.

  The scent of bloody steel, oil, and gunpowder engulfed me in the faint stirring of the breeze.

  I raised my pistol and gripped it with both hands, focused on my target, and fired.

  Chapter 26

  I stared into a pair of cobalt blue eyes.

  Flynn Campbell looked down at me with a gentle smile. “There you are.”

  “Here I am,” I murmured. “What happened? Why am I flat on the ground?”

  He scratched his jaw. “You—ah—might’ve hit your head when you were tackled.”

  “Twice in one day,” I groaned. “Who took me down? You?”

  “No. Ramsey did.”

  “Ramsey? Who’s Ramsey?”

  “For all intents and purposes, Ramsey is my younger brother.”

  When I tried to move, Flynn crouched down next to me and gently placed his hand on my shoulder. “Take it easy. You might have a concussion.”

  “Why are you here?” I asked. “I thought you and Barrett went back to Scotland.”

  “We went home to visit the boys, but Colt called and—”

  “Colt,” I demanded. “Where is he? Is he—”

  “He was loaded into one of the first ambulances on the scene. Joni rode with him to the hospital.”

  “Take me to him, please.

  “Stay down,” he growled. “Until an EMT can check you out.”

  “Where’s Knight? Where’s Shelly?”

  “Take a deep breath, Mia.”

  “Don’t tell me to take a deep breath,” I snapped. “Was anyone killed? Did I—please tell me I got him? Please tell me I hit Dev.”

  Flynn shook his head in negation, his jaw clamping shut. He didn’t address any of my other concerns because his eyes strayed from mine to look across the lawn.

  “What is it?”

  “The sheriff is here.”

  “For the love of God, that’s all we need,” I muttered. “Fuck this.” I slowly sat up and I was immediately assaulted by dancing vision. I closed my eyes to keep from throwing up.

  Flynn bellowed, “Hey! We’ve got a woman with a concussion over here.”

  “Why did Ramsey tackle me?”

  “You’ll have to ask him that.”

  “Where is he,” I muttered. “I’d like to give him a piece of my mind.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” said a smooth voice, dripping with a velvety Scottish brogue.

  “Mia, I’d like to introduce Ramsey Buchanan. Take nothing of what he says at face value.”

  The man named Ramsey rolled striking green eyes and pushed the dark curls off his forehead before squatting down next to me.

  “Sorry, lass.” He winked. “Had to take you from behind.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh even though it hurt my head. “You didn’t have to tackle me.”

  “Aye, I did. You were in danger. Quickest way to get you out of danger was to tackle you.”

  An EMT finally made his way over to me; Flynn and Ramsey stayed while I got the green light to move.

  “If a headache comes on, get to a doctor immediately,” the young EMT said. “Same for blurry vision, nausea, any hint of passing out or not being able to stay awake during normal hours.”

  “I’m about to head to the hospital. I’ll be surrounded by doctors if I need one,” I replied.

  Looking around the park, I was saddened by the carnage. Books with fractured spines and torn pages littered the grass, broken toys, splintered pieces of furniture—everything that had been for sale was decimated. It was a depressing sight.

  I walked toward Boxer and Reap. They were talking with a handful of men I didn’t recognize; I assumed they were with Flynn. “Where’s Knight?” I asked Boxer. “The last I saw of him, he was in the thick of it.”

  “Getting stitched up at the hospital.” Reap grimaced. “He went after one of the guys that shot at you. Got himself a knife to the shoulder for his trouble.”

  A pang of worry went through me when I thought about my father and his injury, but he was alive.

  “Just got off the phone with Joni,” Boxer said, his eyes dark. “They’ve patched up Colt’s side. He’ll be fine, but they conked him out.” His jaw clenched. “Cheese took a bullet to the chest. He’s in emergency surgery.”

  “Oh God,” I whispered.

  Boxer looked at Reap, who nodded.
r />   “What?” I asked. “What’s that look mean?”

  Boxer placed his hand on my shoulder and gave it a tight squeeze. “It’s Shelly.”

  She looked peaceful.

  Her left hand rested on top of the sheet, her engagement ring catching the sunbeams streaming through the blinds of her room.

  The ventilator machine beeped in time with the rise of her chest.

  “You shouldn’t be here.”

  I didn’t turn my head at the sound of Mark’s angry voice.

  This was my fault.

  She wouldn’t be in the hospital on life support if it hadn’t been for me.

  Me.

  I was the one who’d chosen a dangerous life. I was the one who’d selfishly wanted Shelly to still be a part of it because she was my family. I’d been determined to meld it all; my old life with the new.

  And now my twenty-five-year-old best friend who I loved like a sister, whose life had just been getting started, who’d been planning a wedding, was in a coma.

  Mark’s anger was palpable.

  I felt it in the air.

  Felt it on my skin.

  I wanted Colt next to me, to hold my hand during this awful moment of my life. But he was still unconscious from the drugs they’d given him. Zip and Joni sat by his bedside while I tended to this.

  This.

  Whatever this was.

  So familiar. Another loss piled on the mound of losses I’d already buried.

  My mother.

  Grammie.

  And now Shelly.

  “She wouldn’t want this,” I said, my tone flat.

  “You don’t get to decide what she would’ve wanted,” Mark snapped.

  I heard heartbreak fighting its way through rage.

  “I know what she wanted.” I finally looked at him.

  White face. Pinched features. Red eyes, ready to burst with tears. But this was not the time for them. The tears could come later.

  After.

  “There’s still hope.” Mark looked at his fiancée and then walked to her bedside. He tenderly brushed a finger across her cheek. “There’s still hope she can wake up from this.”

  Severe brain trauma resulting in permanent mental deficits.

 

‹ Prev