Angel’s body shook behind me. He wanted to go to his mother, protect her, but for some reason he was staying by me. I wouldn’t let that happen. I wouldn’t let his mom die for me.
“Go, Angel. Go.”
He hesitated, eying me.
“Please. Don’t let him hurt her.”
Nodding once, he took off down the road toward the building, yanking a gun from his belt along the way. As if he knew Angel was coming, Pops left Anne alone and raced to the other side of the building, opposite where I stood. It took him only seconds to get lost in the smoke and scrambling bikers, which only sent my heart racing faster. What if he was going for Archer? Or even my mom? I had to get to them first.
Shouts were barely heard over the roaring of the fire, which now took hold of the skies with its black smoke. Chaos ensued, in the form of bodies being dragged from the building. With every lifeless form that wasn’t Archer, my heart thumped more wildly in my chest. Where were they?
“Emily!” A voice called my name from behind a large truck that sat off to the side of the building. Chop ran toward me, his arms waving frantically. “We need to go. Now.”
I blinked, looking into Chop’s eyes the closer he got to me.
“Now!” he shouted. “Come to me.”
Slowly, I shook my head, refusing to move. Not when the fire was growing thicker, blocking the doors, the windows, overtaking every inch of the building. Archer was inside there somewhere. My mom, possibly, too.
“Come on. Now.” He yanked at my arm and dragged me toward the gravel road to the left.
“No. I’m not going with you.” I tugged my arm out of his hold and took off toward the building. If I had to run into the fire to find the people I loved, so be it. I’d die for them both.
“The hell you’re not.” He grabbed me by the waist from behind and yanked me against his chest.
“Don’t touch me.”
“I will touch you because you’re mine now,” he growled low into my ear.
“I’m nobody’s.” I shrugged out of his arms, launching my foot back. I knew I’d hit him where it counted the second he started to groan.
Frantic, I ran forward, not caring about death or destruction, fire or whatever stood in my way. I had to help.
“Emily!”
I froze before the door when I realized who that voice belonged to. My mom.
Seconds before I could go to her, a blast of fiery heat shot out from the building, forcing me to step back. I coughed, holding my arm up and over my face. Smoke was filling my lungs already and my eyes burned like someone had poured acid in them.
I bent over at the waist and gagged, wishing I could puke up smoke.
“Emily, honey!” I lifted my head in time to see her there before me, her frantic eyes searching my face. “We need to get you back. The building is going to explode.”
“What… happened?” I coughed.
She shook her head. “I did it for you. For all of us. So we could be together. Not the club, or the brothers, or anyone else. Just us. We can go get Niyol. Charles will tell him he’s sorry. We can work this out as a family. I know we can.” Tears fell down her face, dirt and sweat mixing in with them.
“You did this?” My eyes widened and my chest grew hot and tight.
Before she could answer, another rumble sounded as the front of the building began to crumble. Siding melted onto the ground and fell to our feet, all while the building’s frame seemed to bend in half.
Mom stumbled back, grabbed my hand, bringing me with her.
“Please. We need to go, now. We have to go find your father. He’ll take care of you. Of me. I promise, sweetie. We—”
“No!” I screamed, shoving her off of me. “I need to find Archer. He’s somewhere in there and—”
Mom gasped, her eyes widening at the same time, body stiffening, then falling, falling, falling…
“M-mom?”
She fell to her knees, lips parted, looking up at me. Horror filled her face, and when I looked above her, I saw why. Pops was there, a knife covered in her blood in one hand, a gun in the other.
“That’s what happens when you stab someone in the back.” He wiped the knife along the front of his shirt. “You’d be good to remember that, daughter.”
I blinked. Then I screamed.
The gun in his hand was raised. Soon after, he was in my face, forcing me to my knees. “You’re a lying bitch. You don’t deserve nothing.”
My throat closed off, blocking even my sobs. I shook my head, hands held up. “No, please.”
His upper lip curled, the beard on his face stringy and soaking with his sweat and soot. Before I could beg for mercy again, he took the gun and smacked me along the cheek with it.
“Charles, no, please,” Mom murmured from the ground when I landed next to her.
Face numb, I reached over and touched her hand, squeezing. Blood dripped from her lips and her bottom one trembled.
“It’s okay.” I shut my eyes, dizzy. “It’s okay.”
“He lied to me. He s-said he wanted… family…”
“Mom, don’t talk,” I whispered, heart in my throat, tears burning. All she’d wanted was a family. A sick delusion with a man who had been filling her head with lies from the moment he’d met her. Mom was going to die because she believed in the one person she shouldn’t have believed in. Shouts sounded around us, fighting, another shot went off… and a body fell beside me, eyes wide open, blood on his head.
Chop.
He was dead.
And I felt… nothing.
Mom’s cry of pain pulled me back to her. I turned too fast, dizzy, but still managing to sit up. With shaking hands, I reached over to try and stop the blood from coming out of her chest, but it wasn’t working. She was losing too much.
“Can’t… feel…” Mom managed before the blood dripped out from between her lips… before she paled. Before she went silent.
“N-no, Mom, no, please.” I shook my head, reaching for her again, only for Pops to grab the back of my hair and slam me onto the ground beside her.
“You’re both crazy bitches. I know you did this, Emily. You’re the reason those fuckers attacked first. You ruined my plans, damn it. You always did.” Even through the pain, I ignored the hovering man and scooted closer to my mom, touching her face, her parted lips… But I knew I was too late. She was gone.
He’d killed her. My father had killed my mother.
I saw hell then. The fire and the devil, waiting with greedy, open arms. I looked up, not thinking much past his eternal damnation as he stood over us still, hands at his side… smiling.
“Should’ve done that a long time ago.” He reached down and grabbed my arm. I let him pull me to my feet, completely numb.
I’d just lost my mother.
The only thing I wanted was revenge.
Was this what it felt like to the RDs? Was that why they never let anything go? Did the promise of vengeance motivate them to go through hell?
“Let’s move.”
“No. I’m not going with you!” I screamed, fighting back, shaking him off, failing but never letting it deter me.
Pops laughed bitterly, moving closer. Hot, stale breath washed over my face as he spoke. “They’ve ruined my club, those men.” He grabbed me by the neck, squeezing.
I gagged, scraping at his wrists.
“It was my life, not theirs.” He shook my body, somehow lifting me up onto my toes. “I control things, not my son. Not that bastard Flick. None of them. And I will make my point known by ending you now.”
“S-screw… you,” I hissed, eyes bulging.
That’s when the bullets came. The gunfire from the woods surrounding the building. I should have been scared. Should have been afraid of getting shot. But right then, with Pops’s hands around my neck, squeezing, the strangest sense of peace washed over me.
Find Archer, I begged inside. Please don’t let him die.
Pops dropped his head back and laughed, letting go
of my throat. I fell to my knees and put both hands to my neck, struggling for air.
“You know how I can tell that bitch mom of yours cheated on me?”
I coughed as an answer. If Mom cheated on him, then good for her.
Pops crouched down in front of me, elbows on his knees, teeth yellow and gnashing like a wild animal, untamed. Around him, nobody gathered; nobody even seemed to care he was there. This supposed leader could’ve been dying and I was fairly certain no one here would have batted an eye. All these months and everyone was so terrified of him, yet he seemed to have nobody but himself.
“Because any kid of mine would know what was good for ’em. You don’t.” Then he slapped me.
I fell back, trying to rub the sting away, only for him to grab me around my waist and scoop me up and over his shoulders. He took off toward the woods, racing to a path. His breath was shallow, yet fast; the thud of his feet against the ground vibrated in my stomach as he ran with me.
I let it all go then: my screams, my anger, my fear. Using my balled-up fists, I punched him in the back. I kicked his chest with my feet too.
But it was no good.
Twenty-Nine
Archer
I moaned, wiggling my fingers and toes, lifting my head to see nothing but blackness surrounding me. This wasn’t a dream but a nightmare, a fiery hellstorm of smoke and death. The hall was on fire. The room filled with smoke. I was still a prisoner in this abandoned building in Kentucky, but there was one positive thing: I wasn’t cuffed to the wall anymore. Don’t know how it happened, who did it for me either, but I wasn’t about to look a damn gift horse in the mouth.
I managed to get to my knees, but the sudden sharp pain in my gut, likely from my ribs, was so lightning fast that I hissed like a damn snake. It was as though my insides were seconds from falling through my skin right there on this dusty-ass floor.
Voices roared in the hall, loud and echoing… until they weren’t. Until the only thing I could hear was the loud roar of the fire. Emily’s face flashed through my mind then. Fear for her, wherever she was, was forcing me to do something. Anything.
Using the wall as support, I pushed myself up and got to my feet, hissing through the pain again. I may have been okay with dying, but I sure as hell wouldn’t let her go down too. Ahead of me, smoke filled the hall. I was alone. Everyone was gone.
I grabbed the table I’d been staring at for the last few days then took a few steps, somehow managing to stay upright even though it felt like my ribs were gonna slice through my gut at any time.
“Motherfucker,” I growled, limping toward the hall despite the orange flames I could see spiraling up the opposite wall.
Slowly, I made it out of the room, taking my time because that was the only option my body let me have.
The drugs were out of my system, it seemed, which also meant I’d be passing out from pain sooner or later. Still, I had to get to Emily, find her before it was too late. Before Pops or Chop took her away from here… or worse.
I gritted my teeth at the thought, more terrified than I’d ever been in my life.
In the hall, everything was pitch-black from the smoke. I turned my head into my elbow and coughed, wincing through the pain it caused my ribs. Something thick started dripping from my mouth then, tasting suspiciously like blood. That probably wasn’t good. Still, I needed to get to a window or door and I refused to let the possibility of a little internal bleeding keep me from doing it.
I’m coming for you, Em. I swear I am.
If I crawled through the smoke, I’d be dead weight, the pain too much for my ribs to take. So the best option I had was to find an exit, upright, possibly a window.
Grabbing an old T-shirt I found on the floor, I stuffed it over my nose and mouth then took off down the hall, eyes burning every time I looked into a room. To the right, most of the offices had windows that were boarded up. Not good. To the left, though, was nothing but blank walls and supply closets.
Just when my head started spinning so bad I thought I’d pass out, I made it to the last door on my right. My knees throbbed when I kicked at the wood, my stomach lurched, and I puked up blood. Fuck. That really wasn’t good.
It was black as sin in there, even more than the hallway. Still, when I finished getting most of my guts up, I managed to lift my head in time to see what I’d been searching for. A window.
Orange flames from the hall gathered closer to the door, catching my eye. I cursed, needing to move. Now.
I looked around, and grabbed the curtains, yanking one off the long, metal rod that hung above the window. I tied it to the other curtain and let it dangle out the frame like a white flag in the hope that someone would see it. The window itself was wide enough that I could get through it fine. But the fall down, in my state? It’d be impossible.
“I’m so screwed.” I scrubbed both hands over my face, falling to the floor on my ass this time. Leaning back against the wall, I couldn’t stop from wincing when my stomach began to throb and burn against my shirt. Instead of checking out my injuries and seeing if there was something—anything—I could do for myself, I counted down the seconds in my head until this entire place collapsed, all while wondering if Emily had gotten out of here before it had gone up.
“God, let her be okay,” I said out loud.
I couldn’t stand it if she didn’t get out, that’s all I knew. Especially knowing I was the reason she was here at all. If I hadn’t taken that side road to get away from that fucking black car, then we wouldn’t have gotten stuck in the flood. Either way I looked at it, everything that had happened since I’d cuffed her was on me.
It felt like hours, but was probably more like minutes, before the fire started lighting up the walls and door like I figured it would. My eyes were shutting, and my lungs burned nearly as bad as my skin and gut; my breaths grew less frequent as I struggled to get air from the open window. When I couldn’t take it in much more, I decided now would be a good time to shut my eyes and pray to a Big Guy I didn’t even believe in for this one final miracle…
Save Emily. Save her, please.
Something slammed against the window frame then. When I opened my eyes and turned to look, I noticed, first, a ladder… a ladder with a dude on it who had bright-red hair. Then I saw his freckles as he peered inside and I knew right away I’d been given a second chance. Angel was there.
He spotted me first, his face staying stoic with that look I’d come to know over the last few days as his don’t-give-a-shit look. Kid wore it better than Slade, even.
I nodded then coughed again, throat too tight and covered with smoke that I couldn’t say jack. He finished his climb inside, one long leg after another, like some sort of gymnast, or maybe a badass ninja warrior. Reaching down, he took my hand, got me to my feet, and urged me toward the window. The fire was in the room now, filling with smoke, flickering flames licking the walls.
I winced, speaking through the pain as we moved. “A damn hero is what you are. Like brother like brother.”
His response was a nod—always with the damn nodding.
I don’t remember the walk to the window, but I could feel the air on my face, his nails in my skin too, pulling me along behind him. He urged me to go first. I wanted to argue, but the look in his eyes wasn’t one I’d mess with. So, I lifted my leg and started my climb down… only to feel the rush of gravity as I missed the last four steps.
Slow-motion style, I fell backward.
Not even ten seconds later, Angel rushed to my side, eyes panicked as he stared down at me.
“I’m fine, don’t worry about me.”
Standing above me like that, he looked like fucking Banshee, a former X-Men—an Irishman too. My little badass bro. I think I loved the kid already.
Pushing myself to my feet once more, I held a hand against the aluminum siding and said through a dirty cough, “We gotta—”
Then I heard a scream, and my good eye went wide. “That’s Emily.”
Angel
nodded, yet-fucking-again with the nods. I wasn’t sure why this time, until I saw him reaching into his pocket and pull something out. My eyes narrowed when I caught sight of the black barrel.
“You even old enough to handle that thing?” I asked.
For the first time since meeting him, he rolled his eyes.
“You little shit.” I laughed, but it was more like a hacking cough. Then I took the gun he held out to me, my vision blurring double when I got it in my palm. If I had to shoot this thing, I was pretty sure I’d miss my target.
“Thanks for this, kid.”
He gave me another nod, motioned his head back, took a step that way too.
“You got a plan, don’t you.”
He nodded again.
“Then get to it.”
Our eyes held a second longer, an unspoken question there in his eyes that said, You got this?
“Go.” I nodded him on with my chin and only then did he turn and run, the opposite way from the fray.
Fear for Emily was the only reason I could put one foot in front of the other and make to the front. And when I got to the corner, I pulled in a breath, coughed again, then peeked around the building’s edge, freezing when I saw the shit show going down in the front yard.
“Holy shit.” It was like a damn war zone, only nobody was actually fighting.
Bodies lay burned on the ground in front of the building. Half were dead, some were nearly there. The rogues who were left stood fifty or so feet back from the building, hands in their hair, cowering, or crouched down and crying. I took them all in, counting the live ones and the dead. The bodies were… endless. The ones still up? Not so much. Twelve. I counted twelve fucking dudes still breathing, yet I couldn’t see Emily anywhere.
I heard another scream, this one less familiar. Thoughts of Emily had me hauling ass again, as best as my ass could haul, giving the building a wide enough berth that if it started falling, I wouldn’t get caught beneath it.
Next to a small garage, I found the source of the scream. It was my ma on her knees, hovering over another woman. I blinked a couple of times, watching her shake the body, sobbing.
Her Hot Ride: A gripping and sexy biker mc romantic suspense novel Page 22