7. Chapter 6 #2
I crossed the distance at a dead run, ducking as a burst of gunfire kicked up dirt near my feet. When I reached them, I pulled Honey against me, one arm wrapped around her while my other hand still gripped my pistol, gaze never stopping their scan of the battlefield.
"Are you hurt?" I demanded, running my hand over her, checking for wounds. The blood on her vest was still wet in places. "This yours?"
She shook her head, her body trembling against mine. "No. I don't think so. There was an explosion and then..." Her voice cracked. "Jack, they just came out of nowhere."
I cupped her face with my free hand, forcing her to focus on me. "You're okay. I'm here now." My voice was gentle but my eyes were already moving again, counting enemies, assessing damage, plotting counterattacks. "Wren?"
"I'm good," she answered, her face streaked with soot but her eyes clear.
"That blood's not Honey's. She clocked a Copperhead with a wrench when he tried to grab her." Pride flashed through me, hot and unexpected. My woman had fought back. “Where’s Ghost?” Wren was steady, but I heard the waver in her voice. Since Wren got here, Ghost had treated Wren like his daughter. It was clear they’d formed a bond and I was glad of it.
"He's securing the shipment. He knows there’s a problem so he won’t be long. None of them will." I turned to Honey. "Stay with Wren. Don't move unless she tells you to. Understand?"
Honey nodded, tightening her grip on the shotgun. "I understand. We got this."
I pressed a hard kiss to her mouth, then moved toward the main building, signaling the prospects to follow. Three more of my brothers emerged from behind the smoking shell of a van, relief evident on their faces when they spotted me.
"Give it to me." I braced myself.
"They hit us in waves," reported Hitter, our club doc, blood seeping from a gash across his forehead.
"First from the east, then south. Blew the gate with some kind of homemade charges.
We've got two confirmed dead. Dice and Runner. Ledger's gut-shot. Not as bad as I’d first feared, but he’s out of the fight.
Four more wounded guys are still fighting. "
I processed this, fury building in my chest even as my mind remained cold and calculating. "Copperhead numbers?"
"At least twenty, maybe more. They pulled back to regroup about five minutes ago. Expecting another push any minute."
"Their positions?"
Rivet pointed to the tree line beyond the ruined east fence. "Main force is there. Got snipers in that abandoned building across the road. Smaller group circling around from the south. Also, I’m sure it won’t be long ‘til the cops arrive."
“With any luck they’ll all be focused on the shipping yard. Should give us a little time to get rid of these fuckers.”
A figure sprinted toward us from the clubhouse, ducking low. Bug, our intel officer, his laptop clutched against his chest like a shield.
"Prez," he gasped, reaching us. "Security cams caught their approach. They've got us surrounded, but their north flank is thin. Mostly for containment."
I nodded, pieces falling into place. "They want to box us in, force a surrender. Likely in exchange for the weapons we just took possession of in case they weren’t successful at the dock." My lips curled in a snarl. "Not fuckin’ happenin’."
I looked around at what remained of my fighting force. Ten members, five prospects. Against close to twice that many Copperheads. But we had one advantage they didn't.
"This is our house," I said, my voice dropping to a deadly calm. "And we're gonna to remind these fuckers why they should have stayed out of it."
I pointed to the clubhouse. "Rivet, take four men to the armory. Get everyone who knows how to use an AR equipped accordingly and anyone who doesn’t a Glock.
Bug, I want eyes everywhere. Hack into street cams if you have to.
I need to know when they move." I turned to two prospects who'd moved to cover me and the other officers in the area.
"You two, get the wounded to the safe room in the basement, including my woman and Wren." I nodded in the women’s direction. “Don’t take no for an answer.”
As my brothers dispersed to carry out orders, I scanned the compound again. This was only a small lull. While there was still gun fire popping in the night occasionally, the Copperheads were regrouping. Likely, they were waiting for word from the docks.
"We're setting a trap," I announced to those still with me. "They want to push us into a corner? We'll let them think they have. Meanwhile, we'll be positioned to hit them from all sides when they move in."
I detailed positions quickly, assigning men to hidden vantage points throughout the compound.
I searched out Honey again, needing to see that she’d gone inside with the prospects like I asked them to make sure of.
And, of course, Honey was still with Wren by the workshop.
She met my gaze across the yard, her chin lifting slightly.
Yeah. Getting her inside and safely hidden away didn’t seem to be an option.
“You’re woman doesn’t follow orders well, Prez.” I turned to see Ghost move up behind me, his expression grim but tinged with amusement. “Met one of the prospects you sent to coral her Wren. He said he liked his balls too much to force either of those women to do something they didn’t want to do.”
"Wren can handle herself," I said. "You taught her well. And Honey..." I paused, surprised by the certainty I felt. "She stays with me."
I strode back to the women, my decision made. When I reached them, I took Honey's hand, pulling her close again.
"I need you inside," I told her, my voice low and urgent. "But not to hide. I need someone I trust watching our backs from the second floor window. You get eyes on any Copperhead trying to flank us, you call it out on this." I handed her a radio from my belt. "Can you do that for me?"
Her amber eyes widened, but there was no fear in them now. Only determination. "Yes."
I nodded, squeezing her hand before releasing it. "Wren, you're on the east side with Rivet. Keep Honey in sight when possible." Wren nodded, her purple hair whipping in the wind as she checked her weapon like a pro.
"Everyone to positions," I ordered into my radio. "They're coming back, and this time we're ready for them."
As my brothers moved with practiced efficiency to their assigned locations, I hurried Honey toward the main building.
At the door, I paused, taking one last look at the destruction around us.
Bodies of a couple fallen brothers and enemies alike littered the yard.
The home we'd built reduced to a battlefield.
This was a slight I was not about to let go.
I turned to Honey, my voice dropping to a whisper meant only for her. "Whatever happens next, stay alive. That's an order."
She nodded, reaching up to touch my face briefly. "You too. Or I will be supremely pissed."
I gave her a lopsided grin. “Yes ma’am.”
Then we were inside, the brief moment of tenderness submerged beneath the cold current of coming violence. I positioned Honey at the window with clear instructions, then moved to take my own place in the trap we'd laid.
The radio crackled. "Movement in the trees. They're coming."
The first Copperhead died before he cleared the tree line.
One of my brothers put a bullet through his throat with a suppressed shot.
Now that we’d had time to prepare, we were going to make as little noise as we could.
The man dropped, clutching at the sudden fountain of blood erupting from his neck.
Gunfire rang out in the night as the Copperheads fired on us. A few of our guys used guns without suppressors, but most had made the transition. The crack crack crack of what sounded like a mix of nine mills and a couple of forty-fives combined with the deeper boom of at least one shotgun.
I pressed my back against the clubhouse wall and nodded to Bug. He checked in with everyone else via the radio, then gave me a nod. “Everyone’s in position.”
"Let’s kill these motherfuckers." I stood and fired at my target. My brothers followed suit and emerged from their hiding spots, catching the Copperheads in a deadly crossfire.
The yard transformed into a killing field.
Bullets chewed up dirt and concrete, sprayed splinters from wooden posts, punched through metal with high pitched pings.
The air grew thick with gunsmoke and the coppery reek of blood.
A Copperhead rushed me, switchblade glinting.
I sidestepped, grabbed his wrist, and drove my knee into his elbow.
The joint snapped with a sharp crack, his scream cut short as I put two rounds in his head.
"East side, three coming over the fence!" Rivet's voice crackled through the radio.
"I see 'em," Wren responded. "On it."
I glanced that way just in time to see Wren drop to one knee, take aim, and fire three precise shots. Two Copperheads fell. The third made it over, only to catch a burst of automatic fire from Rivet's position.
Movement in the second story window caught my eye. Honey. She was exactly where I'd positioned her, shotgun braced against her shoulder as she kept watch. Her face was a mask of concentration, hair pulled back. For a split second, our gazes met across the chaos.
Then I saw it. A Copperhead scaling the drainpipe, heading straight for her window.
"Honey! Eight o'clock!" I shouted into the radio, already moving toward the building, knowing I'd never make it in time.
She whipped around, spotted the threat, and without hesitation, swung the shotgun toward the intruder. The blast was deafening even amid the firefight. The Copperhead's chest dotted with shot spray, blood staining his white T-shirt. His body tumbled back to the ground with a sickening thud.
Thank fuck!