Ruthless Reign

Chapter 30

“How long has it been since you sent word to Séamas?”

Damienpaused his coordination of the Saints in the Kilborn gymnasium. They were setting up barricades and walls. Stacking desks from the classrooms and tires from the autolab to create makeshift hides. It was starting to look like some kind of indoor paintball park waiting for a bunch of birthday kids to show up and paint the room in shades of blue and pink and green.

Butthe only color that would be painting these walls when the day was done would be red. And those guns were real. The ammo crates filled with bullets that dealt death instead of a little sting that would heal.

Damienlooked at his watch. “Over an hour now.”

Ibit my lip, thinking how it’d now been several since AvaJade said she was on her way. They should’ve been here by now.

Unlessthey were stopped.

Orworse.

Eitherway, it didn’t look like they were going to make it.

Anhour since Damien got word to Séamas…

IfAodhán was right, his dad wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to go toe to toe with the Saints and ultimately take out its leader.

ButAodhán said if his dad won he wouldn’t stop there. He’d want to make an example of us. He might leave one person alive. Just one to tell the tale of what happened here. The rest, he’d kill.

Sowe had to win. There was no other option.

Withor without help from Diesel and his men from ThornValley.

Withor without AvaJade and her Crows.

Withor without help from the majority of the other smaller gangs operating in this state.

Onlyone showed up when Damien put out the call. They were a local motorcycle club. Fourteen men in total. At least they looked like they knew what they were doing. These weren’t a bunch of wannabe gangsters with pistols and small-dick energy.

Theywere leather-clad, tattooed, stone faced men ranging from their mid-twenties to forty-five. Apparently their leader was a friend of Damien’s who owed him a favor from a long time ago. HisMC—Sinners—had multiple chapters around Cali, too, and he’d called in the nearest ones to help but none of us had any hopes they’d get here in time to make a difference with the nearest one being a couple hundred miles away.

Sloaneconvinced him to contact the local PD, but they wouldn’t get involved. Not in the fight itself. But they did agree to shut down traffic going into and out of campus to limit the risk to civilians until this was over.

“Have you heard from Diesel at all?” I asked hopefully, searching the faces in the gymnasium for my guys, but they weren’t back yet from grabbing the vests from the Bronco.

Damienshook his head. “Nah. Nothing yet. I don’t think he’s going to make it. We’re on our own.”

Inodded gravely.

Iflinched as his hand came down on my shoulder, snapping my head back up to find him staring hard into my eyes. “If you’re even half as strong as your mother was, you’re going to be all right.”

“She wasn’t,” I muttered, and his lips pressed into a thin line.

“No,” he said with a sigh. “She wasn’t. But me and my boys are going to do everything we can to make sure the same thing doesn’t happen to you. When the fighting starts, stick close to them, yeah?”

“I will.”

Ashe dropped his hand, he pinched the collar of the shirt I wore, giving it a quizzical look. “Is this what you were wearing before?”

“Uh. No.”

Itried not to let my face heat as I looked down at the shirt. It was a sheer deep emerald blouse with a little black satin tie at the neck. I’d stolen it from the fancy ass pile of clothes in the lost and found after Aodhán ruined my other shirt.

Icould’ve picked a plainer t-shirt. I probably should’ve.

Butwhen I saw the St. Laurent blouse, I knew I had to wear it.

Tobywould’ve loved it.

Hewould’ve scooped it out of the bin, eyes gleaming as he proclaimed what a score it was. Then he would’ve laundered it and sold it for a solid five hundred bucks like the absolute baddie he was.

“It’s nice,” Damien said awkwardly and I thought it might’ve been the first time he ever made an attempt to compliment something as trivial as a shirt. “Is it one of those fancy designer brands?—”

“We really don’t have to do this.” I winced.

Heinhaled, looking relieved. “Thank fuck.”

Despitethe heavy aura in the room, I let out a small chuckle that wasn’t fake at all. “We can bond over good whiskey instead—if we survive.”

“When,” Damien corrected, giving me a pointed look. “Whenwe survive, I’ll hold you to that.”

Iheld out my hand, and he took it, giving it a firm shake. “Deal.”

“Hawk,” Hardin called, and I turned to find the three of them entering the gymnasium, each one wearing a bulletproof vest. Hardin held a smaller one in his right hand and jerked his chin for me to come over to where they were setting up some shit behind a stack of tires.

Damienwent back to barking orders, and I rushed over to where the guys were in the semi-privacy behind the stacks of tires.

“What was that about?” Kaleb asked as I stepped into their group, letting Hardin slip the heavy vest onto my arms.

“What?”

“WithDad.”

“Oh. He was asking me who designed this shirt?”

“Fuck off. He did not.”

“He did.” I scoffed. “ButI told him we should bond over whiskey instead of fashion when we survive this.”

When.

Icaught Kaleb’s tiny smirk as Hardin came around to stand in front of me, adjusting straps and doing up the zipper. I’d never seen him look so taut.

“Hey,” I said, grabbing his vest to tug him closer. “It’s going to be okay.”

Hebrought a hand up, settling it on the side of my neck, his thumb stroking over my chin, but the hardness didn’t leave his eyes. “Tell that to your heart rate, Hawk.”

Icould feel the pulsing of my heart like a ticking countdown clock, and clearly, he could too from where his thumb was pressed against my carotid. I swallowed. “I’m trying.”

“So am I, Hawk.”

Hishand dropped and he checked and rechecked every inch of my vest, looking for anything that might be wrong. “How does it feel? Can you move all right?”

Itwisted, stretching out my arms and going into a crouch. It was heavier than I thought it would be. And it did make movement a little more difficult. I wished I’d had the foresight to have worn one around when we were still at Hardin and Kalebs, if only to get used to how it felt.

“I think it’s good.”

“Do you have an elastic, mo mhuirnín?”

BeforeI could answer him, he’d already slipped the thin black elastic from my wrist and started to pull my hair back. “What are you doing?”

“You don’t want to give anyone something to grab onto,” he explained, running his fingers through my tangles before starting to braid it back from my face.

“Are you…braiding my hair?”

Icould hear the smirk in his voice when he replied. “I used to plait my Ma’s hair for her like this.”

Ashis fingers brushed the nape of my neck, I shivered.

Everythingfelt bittersweet, and I wanted to hold onto it all—hold onto them—so tightly that nothing could ever tear us apart.

Ibit back against the sting in my eyes and the burn in my throat as Aodhán finished braiding my hair. He tucked the long plait into the back of my vest, and I reached back to feel the ridges of his work. It was three braids. One that started at my crown and two more that began just above my ears, the three of them joining into one thick cord at the back of my head.

“Shit,” I heard Kaleb mutter. “I need to up my game. Will you teach me how you did that, man?”

“Yeah, mate. Anytime.”

Myheart warmed despite the chill of dread still clinging to the air. I was so fucking happy they were all getting along despite all the what-ifs winding us up.

Whatif Séamas managed to replenish his weapons and ammo since yesterday?

Whatif he blackmailed some of the other gangs into joining him in this fight and we were even more outnumbered when it came time to pull the trigger?

Orwhat if they just barricaded us in and set the building on fire? Or blew it up?

Aodhánsaid they wouldn’t. His da thrives on fear. OnChaos. He’d want a proper battle. He said this was exactly the thing he’d been starving for since they crushed all their rivals in Ireland: a real opponent. Someone to make things interesting.

Hesaid this was what his dad lived for.

Asharp whistle sounded in the open space, and the guys and I rushed out from behind the tires to see Zade in the doorway.

“They’re coming,” he shouted, breathless, and Damien gave one terse nod before his eyes moved to address every Saint and Sinner in the room.

“All right lads,” he called as Sloane came to join him at his side. “And ladies,” he added with a nod to her and to me. “This is it. We make our stand here and make it fucking count. Donot hesitate. We take no prisoners. We show no mercy.”

“Because you can bet your asses they’ll show none to you,” Sloane added. “These are the men who came this close to blowing all your families to kingdom come. They killed your friends. Your brothers.”

Damientook Sloane’s hand. “But today they’re the ones who die. Not us. No mercy.”

“No mercy!” the Saints in the room echoed, Hardin and Kaleb’s voices rising with every other one until the words echoed in my head.

Nofucking mercy.

Forwhat they did to Kaleb.

ToDamien.

ToToby.

Tome.

No. Fucking. Mercy.

Ifelt the chant down to my bones. It vibrated in my blood like a drug, singing in my veins until every hair stood on end.

Ididn’t realize my hands were clenched so tightly that my fingernails were carving bloody half-moons into my palms until Kaleb tried to take one of them into his.

“Take your places,” Sloane bellowed. “You know what to do.”

Whenour eyes met, she gave me a meaningful look, bobbing her head once as if to tell me you got this.I nodded back.

“Hawk, let’s move,” Hardin growled, corralling me toward the doors to follow Kaleb and Aodhán. TheSinners followed close behind us. Right now, they were our only ace in the hole.

Séamaswouldn’t expect them to be here, so they wouldn’t be here when the Sons arrived. Well, not visibly, anyway.

Hardinand I would be in the main office.

Kaleband Aodhán would be in the counselor’s office opposite us.

Andhiding in the classrooms between here and the gymnasium would be the rest of the Sinners.

Damienwisely said we couldn’t all be in one place. We had no idea where they would attack first. Orhow.

Imean, surely they wouldn’t just walk right in?

IfDamien was right, they’d come at us from every entry point at once, thinking splitting themselves up wouldn’t be a risk since they still outnumbered us. Then it was our job to pen them in. We wouldn’t let anyone get back out.

Withthe majority of the Saints in the gym, the Sons would all make their way there eventually. It was up to us to make sure they all got there and take out as many as we could along the way.

Icrouched next to Hardin behind the wide desk in the office, trying and failing to contain my short, hard breaths as I took out my gun and turned off the safety.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Hardinsettled a hand on my lower back, and I turned my face to him.

Hebreathed in long and deep and out slow, eyes fixed to mine.

Aknot formed between his brows as he drew one of my hands to his chest, making me feel his breathing. I tried to mimic it. Breathing in for as long as I could and then out as slow as I could. I did it again. Once more. And felt the pins and needles on my scalp begin to fade. The feeling return to my fingertips.

Acold sweat covered my chest, but it didn’t feel like it was going to freeze me solid anymore.

Andthen I heard the unmistakable sound of vehicles approaching outside and my pulse spiked.

Hardingripped my chin, making me take another two deep, long breaths with him.

“You can’t die, Hawk,” he told me. “And neither can I.”

Mybrows furrowed.

“Believe it and nothing can hurt you.”

Ican’t die.

I’mfucking immortal.

Sois he.

Soare we all.

Hereleased me just as the sound of doors opening all over the silent university clicked like falling dominoes.

Gutup, bitch.

Therattle of metal on tile had Hardin curling his body around mine, knocking me to the floor.

Deafeningblastsexploded into my ears and in all the spaces between Hardin’s limbs there was a white light. Brilliant and blinding. And then the rain of shattered glass on the floor.

Iblinked, shaking my head, trying to make my vision clear and my ears stop ringing.

“What was that?” I didn’t realize I was shouting until Hardin’s hand clamped over my mouth and he tucked me in against his body against the back of the desk.

Asmy mind caught up, I realized it wasn’t an explosion. Not the kind meant to destroy, but the kind meant to disorient.

Flashbangs.So many of them, thrown into the building from every entrance. Had they used up all they brought at once? Or was one of our worst fears just realized? Did they manage to restore their arsenal?

Asthe ringing cleared, I realized I could hear them. TheSons. They poured into the halls, the echo of their footfalls sounding like a landslide down a mountainside. Getting closer by the second.

Itwas only another few seconds before the shooting started.

Beforethe screaming started.

Imoved to stand, but Hardin tugged me back down.

“Wait,” he hissed in my ear. “We hold until they’re all inside.”

Right.

Icurled both hands around the grip of my gun and breathed, waiting.

Inthe halls, the insistent pop of gunfire came louder. Faster.

Andas the Sons reached the gymnasium, it sounded like an all-out riot.

TheSons still lingering in the halls started to move faster. We listened as they passed the office door, their voices coming clear through the windowless panes.

“Clear the classrooms,” they said. “Sweep the halls.”

Thehandle of the door to the office turned with a creak and Hardin was up in an instant. I moved with him, like a shadow made of flesh and bone. He fired once, the discharged bullet tearing straight through the skull of the Saint at the door.

Theone closest to him turned, whipping his gun around, and I aimed with my heart in my throat and a gasp on my lips, but Hardin’s bullet found him first.

“This way!” an unfamiliar voice called and the running steps that were retreating toward the gymnasium turned around—headed in our direction instead.

“Don’t think,” Hardin said gruffly. “Just shoot.”

Aodhánand Kaleb came bursting out of the counselor’s office just as the Sons rounded the corner. I couldn’t tell how many there were. More than us. So much more.

“Move,” the command coming from Aodhán’s lips broke through the momentary panic, ungluing my feet from the floor. I shifted, planting my back against the wall inside the office just as they started firing.

Kaleband Aodhán and Hardin fired back.

Fuck.

Comeon, Becks.

Ithrew myself from my hiding place and shot the first SonI laid eyes on. Not a headshot. Not even a kill shot, but he went down all the same, and Aodhán finished him for me with a perfectly placed bullet between the eyes.

TheSons stopped before fully rounding the corner and were peeking around it in intervals to return fire. I did the same, resuming my position behind the wall, peering out every few seconds to see if there was an opening for a shot.

Isaw the grenade on Hardin’s belt as he fired off two more shots, and I grabbed it.

Hisblack eyes snapped to me—to the grenade in my hand.

“Do it.”

Pullingthe zip was like touching an exposed wire. The lethal danger of it shocked me like an electrical current plugged straight into my chest.

“Fuck, Hawk, throw it!”

Shit.

Ihucked the thing in the general direction of the Sons as Hardin shouted. “Down!”

Ifelt the explosion like a quake that traveled all the way up my knees and rolled over me like a blast of wind. Bits of plaster and busted tile rained over us, and I coughed as I breathed in the dust.

“Push in!” Aodhán called through the haze, and I moved toward the sound of his voice with Hardin tight on my heels.

Asthe dust started to clear and I saw…

Mystomach revolted at the image. The blood. The…bits.

Ipushed down the urge to vomit as I caught up to Aodhán, who was planting bullets into the skulls of any still-living Sons like tiny seeds of mercy that saw the pain in their eyes extinguished.

Westepped past the bodies, pushing forward, toward the gym.

Icaught movement in my peripheral and shifted just in time to see a legless Son lifting his weapon with a wordless moan. Aodhán had missed one.

Ididn’t think. I just fired.

Kalebstopped in his tracks and spun, seeing my smoking barrel and the dead Son.

“Good catch, Vixen,” he said, and I felt a tug in my chest. “Now stay tight and stay low. On my six, okay? Hardin’s got yours.”

“Okay. Got it.”

“You’re doing great, love,” Aodhán said, taking up the lead, tossing me a wink over his shoulder.

Ialmost smiled. UntilI saw a Son push out of a classroom ahead, covered in what I assumed was the blood of the Sinners who were in there.

Hewas massive. Over six feet tall with shoulders so wide they had to be pumped full of steroids.

Aodhánsaw my look and whipped his head back, but he was too late. The giant Son got his gun up and fired. But so did I.

Hisbullet went wide.

Minedidn’t.

I’dmeant to hit him in the head, but the bullet tore through the side of his neck instead. His hands reached up to grip the spray of blood—to try to stop it. It poured from him in a morbid cascade.

Mystomach turned again, and I looked away. I didn’t have to look at it.

Ididn’t have to look at it.

Iheard him gurgle and I gagged.

Hardinfired behind me and the gurgling stopped.

“Well, that was dramatic,” Kaleb said, starting to move again.

Ifollowed him, studiously not looking to the right. Or anywhere but straight ahead.

“Ope, watch your step, Vixen.”

Ifelt a tug on my elbow and let him guide me around a steadily spreading pool of blood on the floor. “Shit’s slicker than an oil spill.”

Aheadof us, the pat pat pat of machine gun fire reverberated in the halls, warning us away and drawing us in all at once. They needed our help.

“Let’s move.”