As Boone pushed harder, the leader glanced over his shoulder and knew that he’d been spotted, although it was ridiculous to think Boone could follow them with stealth. They were on motorcycles, for fuck’s sake, and none of them had exhaust baffles, causing sounds to bounce back and forth between the mom-and-pop stores.
The two bikers throttled through town, breaking every speeding law as they wove in and out of the narrow two-lane traffic. He cursed under his breath and mimicked them, hoping that no pedestrian got the stupid idea to cross the street at the wrong time. People stopped and stared, but he ignored everything except the two bikes in front of him. Once they reached the outskirts, he had a vague idea of where the two were heading. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone to report everything to Romeo.
Chapter Nineteen
Romeo had watched the ambulance, which contained Chloe, Petunia and Wrench, pull out of the compound before turning to the sheriff.
“The logistics of this are a nightmare, Romeo,” Sheriff Wilson muttered.
Romeo nodded. The officers swarmed the area while the Men of Hell gathered the dead. None of his men, thank God, because Romeo didn’t consider Bandit one of his Brothers anymore. But the Double Guns had lost three, including the man he’d killed.
“Hold on,” he told the sheriff. He pulled out his switchblade as he walked over to Bandit’s body. He looked at Boone. “Where’s his tattoo?”
“Chest.”
“Show me.”
Gabby used his own knife to remove the cut in pieces. Then he sliced through the clothing and jerked the edges apart to show the Men of Hell symbol inked on his right pectoral. Romeo leaned down and sawed through the muscle, making a mental note to sharpen the blade. Because he was dead, the blood didn’t squirt out, but some of it, the stuff still lingering in the capillaries, ran down the torso.
“What the fuck are you doing?” the sheriff demanded.
“This asshole was working for them,” Romeo said coldly. “He doesn’t get to be buried with the tat. The ink is ours, so I’m taking it back.”
“That’s mutilation. I can arrest you for that.”
Romeo glared at him and, almost immediately, the sheriff backed down. The tattoo was bigger than Cipher’s so it took a few extra minutes to get it off. Gabby held out Bandit’s cut and Romeo tossed the pile of skin on top of it.
“Burn that,” he ordered.
Gabby nodded.
He stared at the men, his Brothers, and something shifted inside him. It dawned on him that these men looked toward him for orders on what to do next, that they accepted him without reserve as their leader—their boss. They would have no hesitation whatsoever doing what he ordered them to do, and suddenly, all the confusion he harbored over the president patch he wore melted away. The mental door opened and all those lectures Wheels had given him sank in, and he knew exactly what needed to be done.
“Sheriff,” he said. “This group came onto our turf, attacked us. So I would appreciate your crew cleaning up their carcasses and getting them the hell off my property.”
Sheriff Wilson frowned. “But I need statements—”
“Your statement is that they broke the law, not us. We defended ourselves. And you tell everyone in Bair the Men of Hell will protect them too. This is our town, and we protect what’s ours. Understood?”
Slowly, the sheriff nodded.
Romeo spun, already dismissing him. He pointed to Boone. “Someone needs to be with Wrench. Go to the hospital.”
“On it,” Boone replied.
Romeo looked at Dax. “Tell me how they got in.”
“Bandit volunteered for sentinel duty and at some point he knocked Johnny, the other man on duty, out. Then he unbolted the gate, cut the power and went to the backup generator. Only Wrench managed to get the drop on him.”
“One man nearly brought us down because he was still smarting over Shepard.” Romeo shook his head bitterly. “Who do you think still poses a threat to us?”
Dax took a moment to glance around, eyeing each member. He shook his head. “No one, Rome.”
“I have to trust everyone, Dax. That’s how this works. You trust the Brothers or this club goes down in flames.”
“I know.”
“Then we need to talk to all the members,” Romeo said. “I want to hear each oath of loyalty. It’s time to stop dancing around Shepard’s ghost.”
“All right.”
Satisfied, Romeo moved on to the next order of business—seeing the women and making sure they were all okay. In the past, the Men of Hell hadn’t been very accommodating toward the old ladies, and that was another step he planned on changing. The hours passed by as he worked with the men and women to clean up the clubhouse, making sure to talk with each person. He knew each man, having been patched in before them all. He’d been thirteen when he had landed there and each person had a journey. Some shared, some kept it to themselves, but that night he learned a lot more about where they were all heading.
The children had passed out long ago, sleeping in the bunker with people taking turns keeping watch over them. He’d never been so thankful in his life that he’d listened to his gut telling him to get everyone to safety.
There came a point during the long night when people couldn’t go on. The place had been pretty much put back to rights, except for the shot-out windows and the bullet holes in the wood that painted a very grim reminder. Their lives would never be white picket fences and rose gardens, but as Romeo looked around, he knew he wouldn’t have it any other way. This was his life, this was his home…his town…and he loved it. Deciding to get some rest, he was halfway up to his room when his cell phone went off. Boone’s name appeared on the screen. An update on Wrench, no doubt.
“Yeah?”
“She was taken!”
Romeo halted. “Chloe?”
“Yeah,” Boone yelled through the phone. The sound of his bike was almost deafening through the connection. “I was waiting for her when all hell broke loose. Nurses in the recovery unit said two bikers came in, held a gun on them and threatened to kill Wrench when Chloe came in and distracted them. She
saved
Wrench, Romeo. But she was taken.”
What the hell!
They hadn’t even recovered from what had happened earlier this night…morning…whatever. Pre-dawn light glazed the eastern skyline, letting him know he’d been up almost twenty-four hours.
“Are you there?” Boone demanded.
“Yeah. Thinking. Chloe killed Shantel in self-defense but Bizerk… Shit, he’s going to want revenge.”
“I’m following them. When I heard, I ran outside and saw them. They had to bungee cord her to one of them. She’s out cold.”
Romeo was already moving to his bike. “Where are you?”
“Outside of town. Shit, I think we’re heading toward—”
The sound of gunfire blasted through the call. The line went dead. Romeo stared at the phone in his hand. He dialed Boone, but the call went straight to voicemail. Fear punched him right in the heart. Chloe had been taken by the very man who wanted her dead.
And he had no idea where she was.
Chapter Twenty
Boone flinched as Vicious turned and shot at him. He dropped his cell. He didn’t need to follow them anymore. He knew exactly where Vicious and Bizerk were heading. Bandit’s trailer home. The fucking traitor had allowed these assholes to stay in his home.
Boone turned off onto a road, bypassing the mobile park, deciding to give them a false sense of security. He drove around the perimeter until he found a good place to stash his bike, in a grove of trees where no one would fuck with it. After pulling his gun out from its holster, he checked to make sure it was loaded and the safety was off before he moved into the trailer park.
Dawn was breaking, making it easier for him to maneuver through the neighbors’ yards. It didn’t take long to find Bandit’s home, and he counted six bikes. Vicious’ and Bizerk’s, which left four other members. Boone shook his head. Dumb fucks, taking on a fully functioning motorcycle club with what? Ten members, including the dead at their compound? They must have really thought Bandit was going to come through for them.
He hurried up to one window and looked through the cracked curtains. The kitchen lay at the front of the trailer, the living room in the middle, with a hallway extending into the back that he presumed led to the bedrooms. Bizerk slapped Chloe awake and the little hellcat came up swinging. Boone grinned until Bizerk backhanded her, knocking her to the ground. She cradled her face and stared at her kidnapper, and if looks could kill, no doubt the man would have been eviscerated in seconds. He didn’t know Chloe all that well, but he knew enough to know that she wasn’t someone to fuck with.
The other members, galvanized into action, brought out their arsenal of weapons, mostly rifles and 9 millimeters. What he wouldn’t have done for a flash grenade right now.
He continued to watch them, trying to figure out their weak spots. A movement from Chloe caught his attention. She braced herself on the floor then swiped one foot out, catching Bizerk right at his ankles in a sharp, swift kick. The man may have been bigger and stronger, but she hit him directly on his bone and he went down.
Damn. She was little but she knew right where to get people. Whoever had taught her taught her well. In one smooth, flawless maneuver, she immediately jumped onto Bizerk’s back and managed to roll with him, his back to her front. He became her shield so no one could shoot her. She also managed to get her hand on his gun, although he was beginning to regain his stunned senses. Boone figured that this was a good time to help her. He hurried to the front door and, with one heavy kick, broke it open. He ducked to the side as gunfire erupted.
He waited until there was a pause and quickly popped around to shoot twice then ducked back to safety. Despite Chloe having her human shield, he didn’t want to risk hitting her. There were two shots from inside then another lull. He dared to peek inside and saw that Chloe had managed to get her hands on Bizerk’s gun. She crouched behind a chair, aiming it steadily. Bizerk wasn’t there, but he couldn’t have gone far in a trailer. Boone cautiously entered, pointing his gun out, surveying the scene. Two men lay on the ground, dead. The rest of the men were nowhere to be seen.
“Where did they go, Chloe?”
“Boone?” she asked, surprised. She glanced from behind the chair and slowly stood. “I got two of them.”
“I see that,” he replied and made his way over to her. “Where are Bizerk and Vicious?”
“Ran down the hallway, I think. All of them.”
“There’s a back door,” he said. “This was Bandit’s trailer.”
She nodded.
He moved slowly toward the hallway, mindful of an ambush. Chloe walked toward the kitchen, and he was thankful that she knew how to handle a gun. This was an environment he knew, the hunting of men, and he had absolutely no fear. His weapon was an extension of his arm. Every sense was on the alert for movement or sounds. Still, he was surprised when the front door banged open.
“Boone!” Chloe cried.
He spun and fired. Bizerk’s gun went off at the same time, but Boone didn’t flinch as the bullet struck the paneling beside his head. His aim, however, had been true. Blood welled from the gaping hole directly over Bizerk’s heart and Bizerk crumpled to the ground, lifeless.
Boone walked over to the man and kicked him to make sure he wouldn’t be getting up. The dull eyes staring into nothing confirmed it. He never liked taking a life, but he didn’t hesitate when it was self-defense, or as a way of protecting someone. He’d not only saved Chloe, he’d saved the club.
“Watch out!” Chloe cried.
The click of her empty chamber registered right before he spun to see her throw herself in front of Vicious, who had come from one of the bedrooms, and wrestle with the gun he held. The echoing blast as it went off reverberated around the interior, seemingly louder than when he’d pulled the trigger on Bizerk.
For a timeless moment, no one moved. Then Vicious practically tossed her to Boone and she fell into his arms, clutching the man’s gun. With her bulk, he couldn’t aim correctly at Vicious’ retreating back.
“I’ll get you,” Vicious vowed, screaming over his shoulder as he ran.
Then he was gone, down the hall, presumably to the back door. Seconds later, a motorcycle roared away. Boone tried to set Chloe aside, but she wasn’t cooperating with him. She just lay like a lump against him. Vicious’ gun fell from her hands to clatter to the floor.
“Chloe?” he asked. The warm trickle of something oozed over his hand. He shook her and her head flopped back, her black hair sliding to reveal her closed eyes and pale features. Blood ran from her mouth, and when he held up his hand, it was covered with warm serum.
“Oh, no,” he whispered. “Shit! Chloe! Don’t you fucking die on me!”
He shoved his gun back into the holster under his cut and swung her up in his arms. By the time he stepped out of the trailer, some of the neighbors had ventured out of their homes to see what was going on.
“I need a car!” he yelled
No one said a word, just stared at him as if he spoke gibberish.
“God damn it! She’s dying! Help me,” he ordered harshly.
A teenager stepped forward. “Yeah, come on. I’ll drive you to the hospital.”
Boone nodded his thanks and followed him, hoping to God that she wouldn’t die on the way.
Chapter Twenty-One
Suffocation.
Immobility.
Fright.
Chloe thrashed about, water flowing over her head and trapping her in the black abyss. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t escape, and little by little her sanity fled while panic took root.
Her eyes were wide open as she twisted, trying to find release from the dark oblivion beckoning her, trying to find some light to guide her. But there was nothing to rescue her, no place to find sanctuary. The dark was endless and it pulled her down.
Her last thought was to scream out her frustration.
She opened her mouth, felt the water rush in…