“Phantom, we’ve got men down,” I inform him.
“Whoever can ride, let’s motherfucking ride!” Bane orders aggressively passing us by. “We need all able bodies for backup! That is our goddamn Pres!”
Looking in the direction of the tunnel, I wonder how Harmony and Harlow are faring. Fuck, this is hard and if given the opportunity, Marcum will die today. He will never be a threat to this club or my expanding family ever again. Heading outside, even the injured from what I can tell are climbing on bikes. Some are completely shot to hell and will be a waste of time to even attempt to fire up based on appearances alone. For the umpteenth time today, my heart sinks as I scan the lot for my baby. Phew, I blow out a sigh of relief noticing that whatever damage has been done is minimal.
“Spares!” is all I hear Bane holler out, leaving me confused as I fire my baby up and she vibrates, coming to life.
Stone, Fox, and Story all head to the garage and I watch as they climb onto and fire up bikes from in there. One by one, we flee together in pursuit of Rogue and Marcum.
13
Mercenary
We’re following Bane as we fly down the open road attempting to catch up with Rogue. At least the fucker’s alive, now we’ve just got to keep it that way. We’re riding in formation, only I notice that Edge isn’t with us. He was injured and most likely stayed behind the bar unable to move.
We’re approaching Rogue and the SUV he’s flying behind. From what I can make out, shots are being exchanged from each of them. Every so often, Rogue maneuvers his bike out of the way. Crazy son-of-a-bitch. This mission is beyond dangerous, especially considering the road we’re following is on a cliff we’re weaving around as we try to catch up.
Far enough back still to be of any assistance, but close enough that I can see what’s happening, I notice a tire from the SUV blow and swerve. Then another. The driver swerves attempting to maintain control as he slams on the brakes. When he does this, Rogue is still so close that it causes him to lay his bike down and I cringe as I pray he doesn’t slide off this cliff at the speed he’s going.
Picking up our pace, we accelerate even more as time is now crucial. It’s a two versus one situation until we can make it to him. He doesn’t stand and I can’t make out if he’s alive or retreating behind the possible safety of his bike. I know the brothers are feeling the intensity of this as I am. Doors to the SUV open and my heart begins to race inside my chest. No. Fuck, we’re almost there.
Rogue’s head pops up and he fires, taking the driver down. I can’t tell if he’s just injured yet, or if Rogue’s shot was fatal. Fucking Marcum has the advantage once again as I watch with the men while he takes cover behind the door.
Feels like an eternity has passed, we finally make it close enough to Rogue and we all barely get our bikes parked before hopping off. The men all scatter, taking different positions as we know Marcum is armed, but we now have the advantage.
As I’m rushing up to Rogue, Marcum peeks his head from behind the vehicle door and takes a shot. I dive, becoming airborne, and feel the bullet intended for Rogue find and pierce the flesh of my thigh. “Fuck!” I belt out, as my body lands on top of Rogue’s. “You okay, Pres?” I ask, as I shift the weight of my body off of his. Another bullet pings off the side of his bike creating a spark.
“You’re hit,” he tells me, stating the obvious.
Multiple shots are being fired in Marcum’s direction from all the men, but he’s hidden himself well using what's left of that SUV. Motherfucker this stings and I have had just about all I can stand from this dead man walking. “Got him! Come out you fucking piece of shit! You fucking pussy!” Phantom taunts him.
Boldly, Marcum steps out from behind the protection of the undriveable hunk of metal, and I look up and notice he’s bleeding from his side. His mouth also appears to be covered in blood. “Hold your fucking fire! Stand down!” Rogue shouts, ordering us to cease our thirst for blood.
Looking at an injured and extremely bloody Rogue, I ask, “Pres, you sure? He’s an open target now. Let’s end this, and let’s end it now.”
“I plan on it. But this is my kill, and my kill alone. I’m gonna ask one favor of you though before I stand.” He trains his eyes on me, but my eyes are fixated on Marcum because he’s slowly making his way closer and he still has a gun in his hand.
“Yeah,” I answer.
“Just shoot that fucking pussy ass pistol out of his hands. I’ve got a head to go claim.”
Raising my gun just above his bike, I lock Marcum’s gun in my sight. With the squeeze of my trigger, the bullet removes both his gun and takes his hand with it. Marcum screams out and grabs his hand and drops to his knees.
“Done,” I inform him and watch the grin curl up on his bloodied face.
“Thought you wanted us to stand down?” Stone asks.
“I do, motherfucker! Merc was given a specific order.” Rogue begins to stand, and I try to help him, but my injury isn’t letting me.
Bane rushes over along with Pyro. “I’ve got you, Pres,” Bane says, helping Rogue to his feet. “Time to get the justice that’s long overdue.”
Rogue pulls his hunting knife from the sheath on his side. “I want his head, and his head I will have,” he growls, approaching a hollering Marcum.
Pyro helps me to my feet, and I groan out in pain. “We’re gonna have to call the two surviving prospects to bring a van and tow truck. We have too many wounded.”
Unable to quite make out the words being exchanged between Rogue and Marcum, we all look on as Rogue walks behind him and grabs him by the hair. Pulling it backward, he exposes his neck. I watch with a grin plastered on my face as Rogue whispers something in Marcum’s ear before he begins to run the blade across his neck—sawing away at the flesh and cartilage until his head is completely removed from his body. They are no longer one, and this makes me so goddamn happy for both Rogue and the club. He will never be a threat to any of us anymore. Rogue holds the severed head up into the air and we all cheer. He turns it to face him before he spits on it and tosses it over the cliff.
Pyro puts the call into the prospects and as he’s on the phone, we hear what sounds like tires screeching before a loud crash. Turning around, we have no visual on what or where that noise came from.
Bane helps Rogue limp back over to us and everyone crowds around. Rogue is quite literally bathed in blood. “Call the magician. Tell him we’ve got a situation and give him our location.”
“Magician?” I inquire.
“We’ll get to that soon enough. This has been enough for one day.” He looks around and I watch his eyes narrow. “Where’s Edge?”
“He was injured and I helped him behind the bar earlier. I’m pretty sure he was in no position to ride.” I clutch my thigh as the pain and burning runs through it. My jeans are saturated with blood.
“We’ve got to get everyone fixed up,” Stitches rips the bottom of his shirt and Rogue comes at my leg with his knife.
“Whoa, whoa!” I limp, backing up.
“Calm down. I promise not to stab you this time. We’ve got to remove your jeans from the top of your thigh down. Stitches needs to stop the bleeding until backup arrives,” he informs me of his plan to help instead of harm me this time. “You saved my life. It’s the least I can do.”
Bane helps to keep him steady, which I am extremely grateful for as Rogue cuts away the denim, exposing my gunshot wound. Stitches wraps the cloth tightly above the hole in my thigh, causing me to wince out in pain.
“Do we have an ETA on backup and the magician yet?” Rogue asks, sitting down on the side of his laid down bike.
“Any minute,” Stone answers. “Pyro called the prospects over ten minutes ago.”
“I’ve already called the magician,” Sandman chimes in. “Did it before you asked. I already knew he and his crew were gonna be needed.”
Rogue nods, and Phantom lights up a joint and takes a hit before passing it to Rogue.
The prospects
pull up and Rogue and I are useless as everyone else helps load bikes onto the tow truck. “You two need to get back to the clubhouse and get some medical attention,” Corey, one of the surviving prospects states.
“You’re fucking special, aren’t ya?” I narrow my eyes at him and watch as he swallows back the fear I’ve just bestowed into him. I tend to have that effect on pussies, and he seems to be one. “How was Edge and why didn’t he ride with y’all?”
A confused look crosses this dumbasses face and I don’t have time to explain who the fuck Edge is. He should fucking know. “Um, Edge got on his bike not long after you all left. He’s not here?”
Wobbly, I stand. “Fuck no he’s not here! Does he fucking look like he’s here?” I grab the dweeb by the collar of his shirt. “Why would I ask you if he was here, goddammit?”
Rogue stands and steps beside me and all of the brothers crowd around. “Pyro. Sandman. Go fucking find Edge!” he orders, pulling out his phone to call Edge I assume.
While they leave to go hunt down Edge, and Rogue attempts to make contact with him via phone, I pull my cell from my back pocket and call my woman. As it’s ringing, Rogue ends his call. “No answer.”
Harmony’s phone goes to voicemail after several rings. This better mean that she’s still in that godforsaken tunnel and just isn’t getting a signal.
Pyro and Sandman race back up to us and hop off their bikes. “It’s Edge’s bike!” Pyro informs us.
The hair on the back of my neck stands. “What do you mean?” Rogue asks him, taking a step toward him.
“About a mile back there,” he pauses and points behind him. “His bike’s laid down and there’s skid marks, but no sign of Edge.”
Epilogue
Outlaw
Two weeks later
There’s no word on Edge or where he may have disappeared to. The only fatalities we had during the attack on our clubhouse were several of the prospects. We’re all still holding out hope that’s where it ends. We’ve rotated shifts daily searching down the steep cliff we believe he fell off. Nothing. We’ve turned up absolutely nothing except for a smear of dried blood on a rock.
The clubhouse is nearly destroyed, eaten up with bullet holes and debris. Harlow is nearly completely recovered and so are most of the men. The bullet wounds were basically all flesh wounds. My daddy got it the worst. He was shot in the arm and the bullet went into the muscle. He’s still recovering from the road rash he received when he laid his bike down. Out of all the things that happened that day, aside from being the most worried about Edge, the men have been up in arms over their bikes. I mean, having grown up in an MC, I understand. Aside from their brothers and women, those are their babies.
I haven’t been allowed out of Mercenary’s sight and he doesn’t want me down in the tall grass and rough terrain helping look for Edge. He’s terrified I’m gonna fall down or get bitten by a snake. So, I spend my days helping clean up around here as we get ready to bring in a construction crew to repair the damage done. I’ve spent multiple hours alone in the bathroom crying, hiding my worry from Merc.
He’s currently in my father's office and I am seizing this opportunity to release some of my emotions. I can’t imagine my life without Edge in it. He’s always been around for every milestone in my life. Not having him around when I have mine and Merc’s baby just seems unfathomable. The thought alone brings my tears to the surface and I cover my face with my palms as the tears flow freely down my cheeks—eventually turning into a full-blown sob. Merc has brought his dogs, Sissy and Gypsy to our apartment and put his place up for sale. Both of these furballs have won my heart over quickly and I bring them everywhere with me. Sissy comes to me laying her snout on my lap and begins to whine. She can sense I’m upset and wants to soothe me. Before I know it, I’ve got them both trying to console me.
“Baby,” Merc’s soothing voice calms me from behind as he places his hands on my shoulders.
I shake my head, not wanting to talk about it.
“We’re gonna find him. I’m making you that promise right now,” he reassures me as he takes up residency beside me.
“But will he be alive when you do?” I question through a shaky voice.
“I promise he will be,” he whispers into the top of my hair before firmly pressing his lips against it.
* * *
Edge
* * *
My body feels heavy and sore. I can hear the sound of a woman humming as she moves around me. Why can’t I open my eyes? Where the fuck am I? The last thing I remember was losing control of my bike before my body was catapulted off and over a cliff.
I feel the soft flesh of a hand make contact with my forehead. “I know you can hear me in there. You’re doing good. You’ve completed a milestone today. Fever-free now for twenty-four hours.”
That is most definitely not Harmony or Harlow’s voice. Who the fuck has me and what does she want?
Afterword
Next Up in Twisted Iron MC
Fueling The Edge…
Edge and Talia’s story coming 2/12/19
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Mercenary and His Outlaw Page 14