Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
WEST
The pavement rumbles below our feet as all the bikes cover the road leading into Eden Ridge. The earth groans as exhaust fumes blanket the night on this barely lit highway, creating an eerie fog.
My face hurts like a motherfucker. My ribs scream with every breath. I should get them checked out, but I had to be here. One, to see with my own eyes that this ends. That Camille is safe to live her life without fearing what’s lurking over her shoulder. And two, to have my best friend’s back.
He’s pissed. He’s stuffing it down to step into the role that has countless men waiting for his direction, trusting him with their lives. He never took that responsibility for granted. But, we’re more alike than people know.
I see the slight twitch under his left eye. The stress of everything is just a hair trigger away from him making someone bleed.
I also made a promise to come back home to Camille. So, I can’t get my ass shot or worse.
No pressure.
Eight Black Feral bikes face off ten of Forsaken Saints, with Grayson’s military Jeep behind us further up the hill. The getaway vehicle if shit takes a turn.
I lean over to Grayson.
“Fuckers are definitely embracing the menacing look well,” I say, as we look down at Black Feral.
Their horror patch emblems shine in the darkness, as do the feral etchings on their masks over their mouths.
“I’m counting on you to take a bullet for your twin, if shit goes south.” My brother ignores me, grunting only in acknowledgment.
“Preferably in the ass,” I add. “Trust me. You’ll have Laurel to nurse you better as you lie in bed. Win win.”
“Shut the fuck up, West,” he deadpans with no real heat.
He knows I’m trying to alleviate the heavy mood. As much for myself as for my brothers.
“You could tell her the bullet’s still in your ass. Only sucking it out will save your life.” I can always count on Holden to hop on my train of stupid.
“I mean, some ass play never hurt no one,” I ponder. “Are you an ass man, big bro?” I ask Holden.
“I’ve been known to dabble.”
“You two are fucking idiots,” Grayson growls.
Holden and I laugh quietly, grinning at the other over Grayson’s big head. The mood instantly plummets when the van shows up, parking next to Forsaken. The plan begins.
We’re far back enough that we can see but not hear. Thanks to Gray, Styx and Raze are mic’ed up, and each of us has earpieces so we can hear what happens. The black van doors open, and a patch brother drags that fighting shit-licker, Brian, by the back of his shirt collar out.
“What the fuck?” Shit-licker cries out. “You brought me to them? They’re gonna kill me.”
“Shut up,” the MC brother shakes him and tosses him on the floor at Styx’s feet.
Styx calmly swings his leg and gets off his bike. Forsaken all rev their motorcycles. This is a game of intimidation. Ultimately, whose dick is bigger? Can’t show fear.
“Quiet,” Styx’s voice rumbles as he steps on that fucker’s hand.
He screams like the bitch he is.
“Psycho,” Styx calls out to Black Feral. “Let’s discuss.”
The Black Feral’s Enforcer, sitting on his bike across from Forsaken, dismounts. As Styx and two others approach the middle, so do two more join Psycho.
A duffel bag is tossed at Psycho’s feet.
“Fifteen K. Everything that piece of shit owes you.”
“You’re paying my debt?” Brian calls out, sounding relieved.
“Muzzle him,” Styx orders.
They duct-tape his mouth, keeping his hands tied at his back.
“My sister hasn’t been with that fucker for years. He doesn’t know how to take no for an answer.” Styx’s hands clench. My body steps forward instinctually.
Grayson’s hand holds me back.
“I should let you all teach him that lesson,” Styx’s voice booms, echoing through the trees.
Shit-licker fights, screaming through the tape.
“This is yours,” Styx nods at the money, “if you forget my sister exists.”
“She shot two brothers.” Psycho’s voice is raspy as if he’s swallowed glass on the regular.
Styx menacingly steps closer. All patch brothers from both sides stir, alert. “Your men touched her,” he emphasizes. “Put hands. On. My. Fucking. Sister! Forsaken blood. And she isn’t even connected to that fuck. How incompetent is your intel that you didn’t lock that?”
Black Feral rev their bikes, tension builds in the air.
Styx continues, unfazed. “I could send a river of blood leading to Silver Lakes for what your men did to my sister. Almost accomplished.” Styx is spiraling into that dark place.
“I should cut all their dicks and feed it to them, piece by piece, with a spoon for daring to touch her,” he roars the last part.
Guns are drawn from Black Feral, then Forsaken Saints.
“Fuck.” I reach for the gun hooked in the back of my jeans.
“We keep our position,” Grayson demands.
“I can’t let him fuck this up,” I fight against Grayson’s hold, keeping me from going down the hill to get Styx’s head on straight.
“And walk in the middle, facing irrational assholes with their guns drawn? Think, West.” Gray shoves my chest.
“This is falling apart already.”
Grayson pulls a walkie out of his pocket and hands it to me. Confused, I take it.
“That’s a direct line to Styx’s earpiece.”
My brilliant brother. I’ll never tell him, but he’s a fucking ninja. I nod and face the scene below.
“Brother,” I say into the walkie. He doesn’t flinch or react. “I want my knuckles raw with their blood as much as you do. Don’t be reckless. You have people who love you. You may hate me right now, but I’ll always have your back. Just as you’ve had mine.”
Styx and Psycho stare each other down. The twitch in his right hand to reach for his gun is there, but he clenches that hand into a fist.
“We’ll make them pay,” I promise. “Another day. Another way.”
Three beats, and Styx gives a subtle nod before he looks around at the men from Black Feral.
“She doesn’t exist to you. Any of you,” Styx let’s his voice carry over the chaos of intimidating roars of bikes, yelling from brothers’ spitting threats across the road, and guns cocking at the ready.
He faces his opponent again. “We’ve let your business that’s violating territory oaths slide. You walk away with that cash on two conditions. We don’t hear, hell, we don’t smell any of you dirty cunts anywhere near Eden, and as far as you all know, my sister doesn’t exist.”
Psycho is a brick wall, arms crossed, his weapon resting at his hip. He’s cloaked in authority that has his feral bitches in check, even though they’re riled and desperate for blood.
“And two,” Styx turns and stares down Brian. “You leave Eden. You never contact her again. You don’t even think about her. And you can live. If I hear you sent so much as a text her way, I’ll encourage them to hunt your ass down and torture you for weeks before you bleed dry.”
Styx faces Psycho again and lowers his voice. This is only for their ears. No one hears what is said but us on the hill.
“A life for a life,” Styx growls. “You took three of ours. I don’t want to hear shit about retribution for the men she shot.”
Psycho stands like an undertaker, observant, exuding death. That broken vocal rasp is deep. “You know this isn’t over. He’s far from appeased with that.” Meaning the money.
“Our imminent war has nothing to do with this. We know what your Prez wants. This, not getting resolved tonight with you all riding the fuck away, won’t get him that. I want to slit your throat as much as you want to bite into mine. But politics requires us to lead.”
Psycho tips his head Brian’s way. “He’s caused us more headaches than the money he owes.”
“Don’t insult my intelligence. He was just a pawn to get you all in our territory, stirring up war before its time.”
Nothing is said. Because Styx is right and Psycho knows it. Their upper hand failed.
“So, let’s pretend those fifteen G’s suffice and ride back to your clubhouse. Leave my family alone. We’ll drive that cunt back and drop him off. Give him a month of false security. If he fucks you all over again, not our problem anymore. War won’t start tonight.”
Psycho turns his face and signals. Someone steps up and grabs the money bag.
“Until we meet again,” Psycho parts ominously before he backs up, keeping his eye on Styx.
Styx holds his ground, waiting till they’re all back on their bikes. They make a drama of leaving. Forsaken loudly follows them, driving them out of Eden territory. Brian’s tossed back in the van after Styx threatens him quietly in that shit-licker’s ear.
My muscles relax as Grayson puts his weapon back in his Jeep.
“Thank fuck that’s over,” Holden says, hopping in.
“For now,” Grayson remarks.
The energy is still tight as we drive down the hill and follow Styx back to my place. Laurel and Nora are with Camille and the other half of the MC, protecting them. I text her.
West: I love you. It’s finished. On our way.
Her response is instant.
Nyx: Thank fuck. Get your ass back home to me, Hero. Is my brother in one piece?
West: No blood was shed.
Nyx: And Brian?
Hm. Well, technically, his blood is still in his body.
West: He gets to live another day. But you don’t exist to him any longer. It’s truly over.
Nyx: I love you. Hurry up. But drive safely. But, hurry a little.
My chest vibrates with a soft chuckle.
“Lovesick fools. The both of you,” Holden teases.
Grayson doesn’t say anything, but he can’t hide the grin at the thought of Laurel. I twist my body to look back at Holden.
“One day, you’ll get bit in the ass with it and won’t be able to escape it. Hell, you won’t want to.”
“What’s your obsession with my ass tonight?” Holden flicks my nose.
“Fucker,” I grumble, punching his arm.
“Children,” Grayson grunts.
The moment we pull up, the door opens, and my Little Pixie comes flying down the stone stairs. I exit Gray’s Jeep and walk straight toward her, catching her body as she throws herself into my arms. I lift and hold her close.
“Thank God you’re okay,” she whispers into my shoulder.
“I promised, Nyx. I’m coming home to you for years to come.”
She lifts her head, and I watch her focus on something behind me. Her brother. I set her down, and holding each other’s hands, we face Styx, who still carries the energy of the confrontation. He watches our hands, looking like he’s deciding whether to kill me or not.
We walk up and stand before him. When I have his attention, I lay it out.
“You and me have seen some shit in our lives. We’ve taken separate paths, but our bond is unbreakable,” I start. “I didn’t see her coming.”
His eyes narrow.
“She knows my heart. She knows me. All of me,” I press, and it takes him a moment before he locks on to what I’m saying. “Everything,” I say, quietly. “And she accepts me. Helps me heal that part I was convinced didn’t deserve to be loved the way your sister loves me.”
His eyes flick to Camille.
“Would you really trust anyone else to love me well? The way I deserve?” she asks him.
Groaning, Styx drops his head and rubs his forehead. I exhale, seeing my best friend again, not the MC Enforcer.
“This shit’s weird for me,” he rasps.
“To be fair, it just happened. We’re all adjusting to this new normal,” I tell him. “But rest assured, this is it. She’s it for me, man.”
Styx steps toe-to-toe with me and gets one last brotherly threat out of his system.
“If you were anyone else, I’d etch your name on your dick with a dull knife and pin your balls to your asshole.”
“Jesus, Drew,” Camille hisses, exasperated.
“If my intentions were fucked in anyway, I’d cut it off for you and wrap a bow around it.” I tilt my head. “What’s your fixation with dick’s tonight. You keep a trophy case of all the ones you threaten to cut off?”
We stare off until rain clouds part from my best friend’s eyes. He breaks first, then we both suddenly burst into laughter, punching each other in the arm.
“Fucker,” Styx lovingly calls me.
“Seriously. Only men could want to kill each other one moment, then pat each other’s back in the same breath,” Camille crosses her arms, watching.
“And you,” he points at her. “Hold off the PDA shit in front of me. I don’t want to see my best friend’s tongue down my sister’s throat.”
“Grow up, Drew-Bear,” I smile, hugging him tight. “I’m glad you aren’t bleeding from some hole.”
He laughs, squeezing me. “You have a way with words, Cami. Love you,” he tells me quietly.
“Love you too.”
Styx leaves shortly after, informing us that tonight will have tensions high until we know what Black Feral’s next move is. He assures us Camille is safe, and her relief at not having a protection deal anymore is comical.
“Goodbye,” she dramatically waves as the MC drives off. “Farewell. Au revoir. Grateful,” she calls out as they get farther, “But won’t miss ya!”
Now that Styx’s out of sight, I pull my woman in for an overdue, after battle kiss. She melts into it, holding my face. Ending the kiss, I press a kiss on her forehead and stay there.
“How about,” I begin, speaking against her skin, “you stick around here? You know, until you figure out what you want to do?”
She leans back and searches my eyes. “Can you handle that? Me in your space twenty-four seven?” she grins.
Little does she know, I plan to one day make that arrangement permanent.
“I mean,” I adjust us, placing my arm around her shoulders, and steer us toward the house, “you’ll have to learn to make West’s famous friend bologna sandwich, rub my feet when I’ve spent all night slinging drinks.”
“Oh,” she scoffs a laugh, “ is that right?”
Her expression dissolves from humor. “Hero?”
“Hm?”
“I love you…but your sandwich isn’t famous and no one named it after you.”
I abruptly stop our descent up the stairs and look down in offense. “You take that back, Nyx.”
She bites her lip, fighting a smile. “How about this, we add it to the menu at the bar and make it Eden Ridge famous?”
“Does my name stay on whatever we call it?” I ask.
“How about a modification? Hero Fried Bologna?”
“Damn, woman. You know how to stroke your man’s ego.” I pick her up and toss her over my shoulder.
She squeals, “West,” laughing.
I walk inside and yell, “Everyone? Go home.”
Her laughter echoes the halls, and my brothers’ groans fill me with pride and freedom to love this woman without secrets.
Now that Styx knows, I’m going to become obnoxious in my public devotion.
I can’t fucking wait.