10. Baja
10
BAJA
There is a vehicle I don’t recognize parked close to the side of the house as I roll to a stop in Alice’s driveway and kill the engine.
Suddenly, a wave of unease washes over me, twisting in my gut.
Something feels… off.
I barely have my leg swinging over the bike’s seat before hearing a muffled crash, like glass breaking.
“Alice.” My chest constricts, and pressure builds inside me. I don’t think I just move, boots hammering against the gravel, closing in on the source of that damn noise. It’s pulling me in, a raw instinct taking over.
A nightmare is unfolding in front of my eyes as I round the corner of the house, and the greenhouse comes into view. Inside, I can see Alice on the ground with a man twice her size, pinning her to the floor.
Rage floods my veins as I sprint across the backyard, closing the distance and bursting through the opened door. The motherfucker doesn’t notice me until I’m grabbing him by the collar and wrenching him away from Alice. I throw him against the greenhouse wall, his impact shattering the panes of glass.
I drop to my knees next to Alice, who is unconscious. A heavy knot twists tight in my gut as I take in her battered, blood-soaked face and the torn remnants of her clothes. A fierce, primal rage erupts in my veins, sharper than anything I’ve ever known, as I turn my head and lock eyes on the bastard who did this.
He shakes his head and steadies himself. There’s a split second of surprise in his face before it hardens, his mouth then twisting in a cocky sneer. “Come on now, don’t you bikers share whores?” He snarls, clenching his fists like he’s ready to fight.
Good.
Because I’m damn well ready to give him one.
I notice the weapon holstered at his hip, and he sees I’ve clocked it. The motherfucker makes a sudden move, reaching for his gun. He doesn’t get the chance before I’m on him. I swing, and my fist connects with his jaw. Abandoning his weapon, the bastard throws a wild punch but misses. With barely any distance separating us, I’m struck with the rancid stench of stale beer clinging to his breath. That explains why the asshole is fighting sloppy. I drive my knee into his ribs, and he doubles over in pain, dry heaving. I grab him by the collar, yanking him upright.
“You don’t know who you’re messing with.” He spits and coughs, struggling to break my hold.
“A dead man, that’s who.” I drive my fist into his face, his teeth scraping against my knuckles. I slam his face into my knee repeatedly, hearing a satisfying crack before letting go.
The motherfucker collapses. His hands cover his face, and blood seeps through the gaps of his fingers. “You broke my nose, you son of a bitch.” He groans in pain.
Blinded by rage, I pull my weapon and hover over him, aiming for his head, ready to put a bullet in his skull.
“Baja,” Alice’s voice breaks through, pulling me back from the edge. “Baja, don’t. Please. He’s not worth it,” she pleads, her voice barely audible.
“He laid hands on you,” I seethe, my finger twitching like a coiled snake, itching to pull the trigger.
“Look at me, Baja,” Alice begs.
I glance at her, lying there on her side, desperately clinging to her shredded shirt like a lifeline. My blood runs cold at the horrific reality of what this son-of-a-bitch was about to do. I can’t shake the rage boiling inside me, screaming—fucking begging for release.
“Please,” Alice murmurs.
This beautiful woman’s pleading hits me hard. Alice has seen and been through enough trauma, so I’ll be damned if I add to it.
I’ll have my revenge.
Later.
For now, I need to protect and care for my woman .
“This isn’t over,” her attacker whizzes. “You’ll spend a long time behind bars in a cold cell.”
I keep my gaze on the bloody piece of shit. “The only one doin’ time in a dark, cold place is you.” I grip the handle of my weapon tightly, glaring at him. He sneers at me with a smug look. Without hesitation, I swing my weapon, connecting with the side of his head with a sickening thud. He crumples to the ground, unconscious.
I quickly turn my attention to Alice and have her in my arms in a few strides, looking down at her and cupping her face in my hands. The moment my eyes find hers, the air shifts. I’m her anchor, and she is mine. Tears streak across her bloody cheeks, and her body trembles.
“I’ve got you,” I murmur, my voice low and soothing. Removing my cut, I pull my shirt over my head, then slide it over hers, careful to avoid her battered face, and help her put her arms through the sleeves. Her green eyes search mine, struggling for clarity. I inspect her further, my gaze sweeping over her body, quickly assessing for any more injuries. The red welt on her cheek is swelling—nothing that looks life-threatening, but it’s enough to send another wave of anger through my body. There’s a large bruise forming on her side, and I press against her ribcage. Alice shifts her body and winces.
“Goddammit.” The words hiss through my clenched teeth as I run the pad of my thumb across her cheek. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry.” I choke back the anger burning in my gut and have to stop myself from walking over and putting a bullet in that bastard’s head.
Alice’s hand rests firmly against my chest, and a wave of serenity washes over the storm brewing within me. “Stay with me,” she murmurs, firmly rooting me in place.
I lay my weapon down close and push a strand of hair away from her face. “You are mine . Nobody touches you. Not now, not ever .”
There’s a vulnerability reflecting in her eyes I haven’t seen before, like she’s removing a brick from the wall she’s built around herself.
A low moan snaps us back to reality, and we turn our full attention to her attacker.
“I need to make a call.” I pull out my phone, dialing Prez’s number.
“Yeah?” Salem’s voice booms over the chatter in the background.
“I’ve got a serious situation on my hands.”
“Talk to me,” he demands.
“I caught a motherfucker assaulting Alice in the greenhouse. She’s busted up bad, Prez.” I choke on my emotions a little.
A tense pause hangs before Salem says, “You kill him?”
The muscles in my jaw tense. “Not yet.” My voice is icy.
“On our way,” Salem responds, the edge in his voice unmistakable.
“Prez.”
“Yeah?”
“Sukie still there?” I ask, knowing Alice will need her daughter by her side.
“She’s here.”
I look at Alice, and the emotions reflecting in her eyes speak louder than her words ever could. “Smoke the asphalt.” There’s no hiding the urgency in my voice. I end the call, slide the phone back into my pocket, and focus on Alice again.
Her eyes pool with tears once more.
“Got anything to tie the fucker up with?” I ask Alice.
“There’s some rope in that five-gallon bucket over there in the corner by the shovels and bags of soil.” She points, her voice still weak.
I hold her tighter, knowing I need to let her go to secure the bastard. “I don’t want to, but I need to let you go for a minute.”
“Okay,” she murmurs, but I hear the fear in her voice, and she tenses.
I reach for my weapon and place it in her hands. “Just in case…” I look into her eyes. “I need to tie him up before he wakes, baby. But if you have to protect yourself, you aim and pull that fuckin’ trigger. Don’t hesitate. You got me?” I’m not giving her any other option.
Alice’s hands tremble as she holds the cold steel and nods. I carefully hoist Alice up, propping her against a stack of soil bags. I take a moment to meet her eyes with mine and see a flicker of strength within her before I turn my back and stride across the greenhouse to retrieve the rope. I return to where her attacker lays and peer at my woman again, finding her tracking my every move with a firm grip on the gun. Good. I turn my attention back on this piece of shit before me and bind his hands and feet. My eyes wander, spotting a pair of garden gloves covered in black soil, and snatching them up, stuffing one into the fucker’s bloodied and battered mouth, causing him to gag as he’s forced to breathe through his busted nose.
Looking for identification, I dive into his pockets, snag his wallet, and flip it open. Ricky Adams. “A damn cop,” I hiss under my breath. I make my way back to Alice and kneel beside her. “You know the bastard, baby?”
I know that, by the fear mixed with anger flashing in her eyes, she does. “Yes.” She takes a shaky breath. “He’s my ex’s cousin.”
I give a curt nod, stuffing his wallet into my pocket like it’s a ticking bomb. His being a cop won’t make a damn bit of difference to the outcome or his fate. But it sure as shit brings heat to the club.
I hear a low rumble growing louder in the distance, rolling in like a freight train. My brothers are closing in. I gently take my gun from her hands and holster it at my side. “Come here, baby. It’s time to go.” I slide my arms beneath Alice, lifting her as I stand. She wraps her arms around my neck and rests her head against my chest. I feel her body tremble with residual tremors as she anchors against me while we make our way out of the greenhouse, cross the backyard, and head toward the front of the house. My brothers pull up one by one and dismount their bikes.
Salem strides forward. “Juneau’s at the clubhouse, getting ready for you,” he says, eyes scanning Alice and his expression hardening.
“He’s out back in the greenhouse tied up and waiting for ya,” I shoot back, my voice low and tense. The moment I speak, Harlem, Mystic, and Laredo march past.
“Get her to the clubhouse. We got it from here,” Salem says and goes to walk away.
“Prez. The piece of shit is a cop,” I inform him, and he stops. His jaw tightens, and he nods once. “We’ll deal with it later.”
I surge forward, carrying Alice to her truck, and open the passenger door. I slide her onto the seat, my insides ripping apart when she lets out a painful whimper as she lays on her side, too exhausted to do anything else.
I feel the rage burning in my chest once again. That cop has a death sentence hanging over his head for what he did to my woman.
I close the door and stroll to the driver’s side, climbing in behind the wheel before realizing I need the damn keys. “Shit,” I hiss.
“There’s a spare set in a small black box beneath the seat,” Alice whispers, blinking like she’s struggling to stay awake. Worrying about a concussion, I push her to open her eyes. “Stay awake, baby,” I urge, even though her body has been through hell. I reach under my seat until I find what I’m searching for, start the engine, and hit the road.
I grip the steering wheel. “You still with me, baby?” I keep my eyes fixed on the darkened road ahead, but the soft sound of her breathing beside me in the cab is impossible to miss. “We’re almost there,” I tell her, not knowing if she hears me.
My mind races in a thousand directions as I press the gas pedal into the floorboard. I’ve never felt rage like what’s flowing inside me right now. My hunger for vengeance is rooted deep in my core. And only one thing will satiate the appetite.
Moments later, I’m barreling down the long, dark road leading to the clubhouse. I bring the truck to a lurching stop and nearly rip the door from its hinges, getting out and rushing to the passenger side. I pull Alice from the car and into my arms, feeling the warmth of her body pressing against my chest.
I push through the clubhouse doors, ignoring the worried faces of Sage and Ophelia. All that matters is Alice.
Sage jumps to her feet, gasping. “Alice.”
“Where’s Juneau?” I surge forward.
“Waiting in the infirmary,” Ophelia says in a hurry, and I whizz by her, heading down the hall toward the back of the church.
Inside the bedroom, Juneau and Sukie are waiting. “Oh my God. Mom.” Sukie’s voice trembles as I lay Alice gently on the bed and brush the hair from her battered face. She looks so fucking fragile. A pang of guilt cuts into my chest like someone is cutting my heart out with a dull blade. If I’d only gotten there sooner.
“Baja,” Harlem’s voice reverberates from behind me, which means the bastard who did this to my woman is on clubhouse grounds. My jaw clenches, ready for what needs to be done.
“I won’t be long.” As much as I don’t want to, I back away and allow Juneau and Sukie to take over. I follow Harlem, who leads us outside and across the cemetery to the back end of the property. The Mausoleum looms in the distance, tucked in the farthest corner of the cemetery. Roots and moss cover the crumbling gray stone. With their twisted, outreaching branches, the trees surrounding us form a canopy overhead, strangling the moonlight. Twigs crunch beneath our boots as we weave past the smaller headstones, and the air is thick with the scent of damp earth. Death lingers all around us—fitting for what lies ahead.
The rusty hinges on the iron door creak as we swing it open and enter the stone structure. Inside, my brothers are waiting. And in the center of the Mausoleum, bound, gagged, and on his knees, is the man of the hour.
Salem strides up to me. “It’s your show.”
“He’s a cop.” I shoot back, even though I give zero fucks about his damn badge.
“Doesn’t matter,” Salem replies, his voice steady and low, giving me the green light to do what I want.
I pull my gun from the holster, stand before the son-of-a bitch, and rip the dirty glove from his mouth.
He coughs. “You’ll never get away with this.” His voice is hoarse, each word rasping like it pains him to speak.
His words are met with silence.
“I’ll kill you!” the desperate bastard wails at the top of his lungs so hard he chokes.
“Scream all you want. Only the dead can hear you.” I glare down at him. “You touched her.” My hand tightens around the grip of the gun as it hangs at my side. “She bled because of you. She cried because of you.” I raise my arm. “You wanted to break her, and you thought you could hide behind that badge and get away with it.” I step closer, towering over him until the barrel end of my gun is digging into his eye socket.
“What do you want? You want me to ask for forgiveness?” he sneers, but there’s a hint of desperation in his voice as death creeps into the room, lurking in the darkness, waiting to snatch his soul.
“Forgiveness isn’t mine to give. That’s between you and whatever awaits you on the other side. I’m just here to arrange the meeting.”
I pull the trigger.