My Inked Neighbor (Summit Hill Vipers: Mayhem Makers)

Chapter 12 Xiara

S ometimes, it’s so hard not to let the past drag me under, to drown in it when I feel like the weight of the world is resting on my shoulders. It’s not caring for Xaden that overwhelms me. It’s the burden of doing so much on my own. I can sympathize with single moms. It’s fucking hard to be a sole provider, cook, maid, and chauffeur. I know it’s not the same with Xaden. He’s my brother. But I’m only in my mid-twenties and haven’t had a break in five years. I’m exhausted.

None of that is the reason I still feel tense. It’s uncertainty about Murder, Lefty, and those Crimson Heretics. I don’t know what they’re going to do next. I have an awful feeling in the pit of my stomach, and it won’t go away. It’s gnawing on my insides, warning me that I’m about to become a victim.

Again.

It’s the first time I’ve been honest with myself since Murder assaulted me in the gas station. I have to come to terms with it, even if I don’t like the fact that it makes me feel weak. It’s silly, I suppose, to feel like I’ve got to always remain strong for Xaden. It’s part of being human to fail and need help. It’s just that promise to my parents that I’ve held onto all this time.

I don’t realize I’m crying until I feel the wet warmth on my cheeks. For once, I don’t try to hide it or swipe them away. I’ll be okay, even if it takes time.

The door opens a crack, and Bullseye peeks in, noticing the tears. He enters, shuts the door, and lowers to his knees beside the tub. “Babe?”

“I’m feeling kinda low,” I admit.

“Because of what happened tonight?” His fingers brush a stray lock of hair behind my ear.

“Yes, but that’s not all.” I sigh. “It’s kind of everything hitting all at once. My parents. Life.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

My shoulders lift in a shrug. I don’t know if I need to talk about it. It’s just there. “Just let me be sad, Bullseye.”

“I can’t do that, Beautiful.”

Another sigh pours out of me. “Why not?”

“Because you’re in here.” He points to his heart. “Burying deep. I can’t get you out. It’s like you picked up a shovel and dug the deepest hole you could.” He smirks but it fades, replaced by intensity that nearly steals my breath. “When you’re feeling sad and hurting, it rips at something inside me, and I want to lash out at the world. That violence is hanging by a thread, Babe.”

I can see it in his hazel eyes. Fury and vengeance are brightening the green color. “What are you planning to do?”

“Not a fucking thing until I know you’re okay.”

“And once I am?”

“Retribution,” he growls.

I don’t need the specifics. The only thing I care about is eliminating any threat against me that might taint my brother by association. I’m not a person who jumps to violence to solve my problems, but men like Murder and Lefty know nothing else. Our point can’t be made without it.

“Drew?”

“Yeah, Beautiful?”

“Do whatever it takes.” I know he’s leaving. He doesn’t have to say he’s taking care of business or that we won’t be alone. I’ve learned enough about him to anticipate his next moves.

My inked neighbor and biker lowers his forehead to mine. “When I come back, I’ll be sleeping in your bed.”

It’s an attempt at humor because of Xaden’s declaration but also a promise.

“I’ll be waiting.”

WHEN I WAKE IN THE morning, I slide my hand along the sheets. They’re cold. I can tell Bullseye never came to bed. Something is wrong.

I get up, slide my robe around my waist, and tie off the belt, stopping in the bathroom before I head down and make coffee. It’s early, judging by the lack of bright light behind my blinds. Voices trickle up the stairs, and I know Bullseye and some of his club members are in my kitchen. I don’t mind if they chose my house instead of Mags’s. I prefer it.

Bullseye is facing the door as I enter. He opens his arms, and I don’t hesitate to sink into them, loving how his warmth always makes me feel safe. “You’re up early,” he observes.

“That’s because someone left me alone. I got cold.”

A chuckle rumbles through his chest. “I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

I lift my head and search his eyes. There’s a tightness there, a darkness that has nothing to do with color. “What happened?” I’m almost afraid to ask.

“Murder retaliated.”

I blink, processing his words, but I’m not sure I comprehend. “I don’t understand.”

His palm cradles my face. He brushes his thumb over my jaw and drops his hand. “Last night during church, a few of his members picked up one of the prospects. He shot the kid and stapled a note to his bare stomach.”

A shudder goes through me. “What did the note say?”

He holds me tighter as if he’s debating on whether to answer or not. “He says he’ll kill the other prospect unless he gets what he wants.”

That feeling in my gut sours. “And that is?”

“You.”

For a few seconds, I don’t think I hear him right. There’s no way Murder is going to kill people because of me. Right? But then it sinks in that he already sent Lefty back to the gas station where I work. What would have happened if I didn’t call Bullseye?

And cue panic. My eyes widen and my biker sees the second I begin to freak out.

“Babe, I need you to breathe. Do it with me.” He inhales and exhales, going slow enough to fill his lungs and then deflate them. He gives me an encouraging nod like the reason I’m worrying isn’t a valid one.

I copy him. Twice. It doesn’t help.

“Bullseye, this doesn’t make sense. Why is he doing this?” There’s a funny tingling in my hands, and I shake them, trying to breathe with the thought of another person’s death on my hands. It’s not my fault the prospect got shot, but if it happens again when I can prevent it, I’ll never get over the guilt.

My biker is pissed. His hands curl into fists as he stares me down, lowering his head until our eyes are level. “Don’t think for a second I’m going to let you do it.”

“Do what?”

“Give that sick bastard what he wants.”

I flinch. “I’m not going anywhere near him.”

Some of the crazy in his eyes diminishes. “You need to tell me what’s going on inside that pretty head of yours. You’re too fucking quiet.”

“I’m trying to think of a way to work this out.”

“There isn’t one.”

I turn around, noticing the rest of the guys in my kitchen for the first time. I saw them when I entered but got so absorbed with Bullseye that I forgot we weren’t alone. My cheeks heat. I’m not being very friendly to his club brothers.

“Hi,” I say awkwardly before I turn to the biker who spoke. He’s one I’ve never seen before with long dark hair and so much ink that I can’t see much of his skin. His voice is deeper than Bullseye’s and gritty. “We haven’t met yet. I’m Xiara.”

The corners of his mouth curl as he smiles. “Yeah. I got that, sweetheart.”

“This is Storm, the president of the Vipers,” Bullseye announces.

“Oh! I’m so glad I finally got to meet you.”

A few of the guys in the room chuckle. Did I say something funny?

Storm pushes off the stool where he’s been sitting and walks toward me. His head nearly touches my ceiling he’s so tall. I peek up at him, almost in awe. He’s got one of the most magnetic and powerful auras I’ve ever seen. No wonder he’s the president of the club.

“You won’t find a way to work this out. It’s not how men like Murder operate. They’re fucked up, and there’s no way to change that. He’s got to go to ground.”

What the hell does that mean?

“Six feet under, Babe,” Bullseye clarifies as his hand circles my waist.

Oh, shit. I should have realized that. “It’s not scaring me,” I tell Storm. “I know you think this is all too much, and I’ll want to run. Maybe you think I don’t have what it takes to be an ol’ lady.” My chin lifts as I hold his gaze. “But that’s the thing you should know about me. I’m stubborn and loyal, and I’m not afraid of getting my hands dirty. If protecting my brother means we have to put Murder in the ground, I’m all in.”

Storm stares at me for another few heartbeats and then laughs. “Fuck. You found a keeper, Bullseye.”

My biker squeezes me. “Yeah, I did.”

THE HOUSE REMAINS FULL for most of the day. It’s grown dark out when all but Cash, Zoo, and Storm leave. They’re gathered around my kitchen table with Xaden and heavily locked into a game of Exploding Kittens. It’s a favorite card game of Xaden’s, and when you add big bikers wearing leather vests, it grows increasingly hilarious. They’re all laughing as Nope and Defuse cards are tossed down. It’s a brutal round, and I giggle as Bullseye draws an Exploding Kitten card. He doesn’t have anything in his deck to help him. His biker brothers slap him on the back as he’s eliminated.

“I’m out,” he laughs, pushing to his feet.

I can’t help snickering as I reach for a mug, intending to make a cup of hot tea. The oddest noise catches me off guard. Something jolts the front door. No, it’s not a jolt. A bang isn’t the right word, either. It’s like something slammed into the wood but not hard enough to splinter it.

Bullseye shouts my name, and I see him dive for Xaden. They crash to the floor as Cash, Zoo, and Storm follow. Shocked, I hold the empty mug in my head, staring at the four men because I have no idea what’s happening. Is someone outside? Aren’t other Vipers watching over the house? It’s not until I see Bullseye lunge in my direction and hear a distinct pop that the nightmare becomes reality.

Outside, I hear movement as the bikers on the floor scramble for weapons. It’s like I’m in some action television show instead of real life. Bullseye pulls me against him, and we lower to the floor.

“Stay down, Xaden!” he orders as I clutch my mug.

There are a few more gunshots, and then the eerie quiet.

“I’ve got you, Xiara.” Bullseye kisses my temple. “Stay right here.” He leaves me to join Smoke as they move toward my front door. I have no idea if we’re under attack, but I know the four Vipers will kill anyone who tries to enter.

My brother begins to scoot across the dining room floor, joining me in the kitchen as we lean against the cabinets. It’s one of the safest places in the house. You can’t see us from the windows, and there’s a center island to help conceal our position. I reach for Xaden’s hand, and he grips mine.

“Don’t go anywhere,” Bullseye whispers, peeking around the corner before he disappears.

I swallow my fear in the silence that follows.

Xaden scowls. “I wish I had a gun.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I’m asking Bullseye to teach me how to shoot and gun safety after this.”

I open my mouth to argue but end up snapping my lips together. My brother is right. It’s a safety thing. He should be able to protect himself and our home. I can’t argue with that logic.

Bullseye returns a minute later. “Come on. We’re going next door.”

I don’t ask why it’s safe there and not here. Neither does Xaden. We follow Bullseye from the house, staying low as we cross in the darkness. All the lights have been turned off. There’re no porch or spotlights. We’re intentionally moving in the shadows, and it doesn’t take a genius to understand why.

Bullseye leads us to the back door, and we enter the house ahead of him, spotting Cash as he crouches in the foyer. There’s a meow, and I glance at the floor, bending down to pet one of Mags’s cats. Bullseye closes the door with a soft click and leans against it, remaining alert.

It’s a tense thirty minutes before Smoke knocks lightly. It’s two raps. Silence. Three raps.

Bullseye lets him in, and they whisper as I huddle with Xaden.

It’s right when I begin to lower my guard, believing we’re safe, when the door is kicked in. Gunshots are fired as I flatten to the floor. Xaden reaches for me, and we crawl out of the way, ducking behind furniture. The shootout lasts for several minutes. I hear gunfire. Boots scrape the floor. Something heavy thuds as it hits the ground. Glass shatters above my head, and the shards fall to the floor. I swear there’s a mad screech before I witness a streak of orange fur.

Xaden’s eyes widen as he looks up.

I expect to see Bullseye or one of the Vipers.

But it’s not a friend who stares at us. It’s an enemy. Lefty.

He cocks the gun, aiming at my brother’s chest. “Get up.”

We both rise, obeying Lefty’s orders to move toward the back of the house. I stifle a scream when I see Smoke on the ground, blood pooling on his chest. Beside him, Bullseye is on his stomach. I don’t know if he’s injured or knocked out. I’m so sorry, Drew.

I clear my throat, hoping I can reason with Lefty. “You came for me. Leave my brother here, and I’ll go willingly.”

Xaden stands in front of me, trying to block Lefty. He doesn’t understand how this works.

Lefty nods, and I don’t see the other Crimson Heretic until it’s too late. A guy with a jagged scar across his eyebrow lifts his gun and cracks my brother across the back of the skull. Xaden hits the floor, and I scream, rushing toward him as he flops onto the carpet. There’s nothing but a rug to catch him.

Arms encircle my waist, and I’m lifted by Lefty and carried toward the back door.

I cry Xaden’s name, but he doesn’t stir.

All I hear is a soft meow before I’m hauled outdoors.