Chapter Forty-Four
Morgan
“Nonsense,” I said, dabbing at the cut on Jenna’s lip.
She winced, and I tried to be more gentle.
“You know, back home, the club in Rosewood has a doctor. Jude needs to see about recruiting someone in the medical field so when someone gets hurt, they can be tended to. I know a little; I have things that you can use to heal faster. A little Arnica will help the bruises fade faster.”
She reached up to her cheek but hesitated. “I must look like a mess,” she said with a sad chuckle.
“You’re still beautiful, even with the cuts and bruises. I’m worried about your ankle, though,” I told her as I put a small butterfly bandage on the cut by her eye. “Did you hit your head at all?”
She reached up and touched the back of her head and nodded.
“A little, but not enough to cause any damage.”
“How can you be sure?” I asked, wanting to get to know Jenna. The way she saved Sully tonight told me I had judged her harshly without getting to know her. I’d let my experience with the whores in Rosewood influence my opinion of her without giving her a fair shot.
“Not my first battle,” she said softly.
I wasn’t sure if she’d meant for me to hear her or not. But before I could ask about what she meant, my mother came barreling into the room.
“Morgan? Are you okay?” my mother asked, looking me over.
“I’m fine. One of the prospects went after Sully, and Jenna saved her.”
“Oh gosh, are you okay?” my mother asked, turning her attention to Jenna.
“I’m fine.” She shrunk back against the couch cushions, as if she was trying to hide from the attention.
“She’s not fine. Her lip and eye are cut, she hit her head, and her ankle is twisted. I’m worried something is broken.”
“Really, I’m okay,” Jenna insisted.
My mother moved around me and sat at Jenna’s feet. Jenna tried to protest, but when Benny Delany wanted to check you out, it was better to just suck it up until she was done hovering. Lifting the foot with the swollen ankle, my mother felt around the now-purple skin, causing Jenna to wince.
“I don’t think it’s broken, but you will need to stay off it for a few days.”
“Of course, I finally get sprung and I’ll be stuck back in my room.”
“It was only one day, Jenna,” Sully said, handing her a glass of whiskey.
“It felt like a month,” she muttered.
I studied Jenna as I continued to clean her up. I’d never really paid much attention to her other than her desire for Jude. I’d let my jealousy rule my emotions and looked only at the surface instead of trying to get to know the woman underneath.
“Thank you, Jenna. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t come into the kitchen,” Sully cried. “Why was he trying to take me outside?”
“Shit, I forgot that part,” Jenna said, trying to get up.
I pushed her shoulders back against the couch and asked, “What part?”
“Nathan said all he had to do was get her outside. That no one would believe a club whore over a prospect. I think he had someone outside waiting for her.”
I looked at my mother, who shook her head. “Don’t even think about it, Morgan.”
Ignoring her, I stood up and walked over to the bar. I bent down and pulled the lock box out and set it on top of the bar. I opened the lid and stared at the Glock inside.
“Morgan, no,” my mother repeated.
“I’m just going to look,” I assured her. I released the clip and confirmed it was loaded. Then I slid in the chamber and flicked off the safety.
“Ma’am, we can’t let you go outside,” Colson said, stepping in front of me.
“Vincent is on the gate, right?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
I looked at the prospect. “You have a gun, right?” I asked.
“Prospects aren’t allowed to carry in the clubhouse, Ma’am.”
“Not what I asked, Prospect,” I said with a smile and a lifted brow.
We stared at each other, and I waited for him to break first. I was the daughter of a Mob boss; I learned to outstare my opponent when I was four years old. With a heavy sigh, he answered, “Yes, Ma’am.”
“Then let’s go.” I smiled and walked toward the front door. “Peter, stay here with them,” I ordered over my shoulder. “Brian, run downstairs and tell Jude what Jenna said.” I paused and turned to look at him. “Do not tell him I went outside.”
“Ma’am,” he pleaded.
“That is an order, Prospect.”
I pushed the front door open and walked outside. Little Rock wasn’t the same as Rosewood. There was a lot of light pollution from the city, making it easier for your eyes to adjust quickly to the dark.
I walked slowly down the stairs, Colson right beside me, with his gun raised in front of him. We walked toward the road, and Vincent came out of the guard shack and hissed, “What the fuck are you doing out here? Does Prez know?”
“No,” Colson answered. “And if he finds out, we’re fucking dead.”
Vincent pulled the gun from the back of his waistband. “What the fuck are we looking for?” he asked, holding the gun against his thigh as he looked past me.
“Nathan attacked Sully tonight. He was trying to get her outside. We think he might have someone out here.”
“And you came out here to look?” Vincent glared at Colson. “Where the fuck is Prez?”
“He and the rest of the patched brothers took Nathan downstairs.” Colson shook his head at Vincent, and I rolled my eyes.
“You both met my father. If you think I don’t know what is happening downstairs, you’re dumber than I thought. Have you seen anyone skulking around?”
“Fuck,” Vincent cursed, looking back toward the road.
“What? Did you see someone?”
“I’ve seen the same car drive by a few times tonight. It wasn’t close enough time wise for me to think anything of it until the last few times, when they slowed down. Nathan was patrolling the fence line, so I asked him to keep an eye out. He knew they were there.”
Vincent looked at me with a strange look in his eyes.
We’d been betrayed by one prospect tonight and I was suddenly very aware I was outside alone with two others.
If Vincent and Colson were working with Nathan, then I just gave myself to them on a silver fucking platter.
Jude was going to beat my ass black and blue, forget red.
He looked at Colson. “Watch the gate,” he said as he slipped his gun back into his waistband, and before I could say a word, he bent over and put his shoulder into my stomach.
He was surprisingly gentle as he tipped me over his shoulder and walked toward the front door. He tried not to let my body bounce as he jogged up the stairs. Inside the clubhouse, he set me on my feet and snatched the gun I forgot I had out of my hand.
“What the hell?!” I shouted. “Give that back!”
“No, Ma’am.” He handed the gun to Peter, just as shots rang through the night outside. “Get behind the bar, now!”
Mom and Sully helped Jenna to her feet and the four of us ducked behind the wooden bar. It was made of cedar and the safest place for us to be in that moment.
“What about Colson?” I yelled.
“He can take care of himself. Stay the fuck down!” Vincent bellowed.
The front door slammed open, and five men stormed in. I spotted two more boxes at the other end of the bar and shimmied over to them. I flipped open the lids and found two more Glocks. Checking the clips, I handed one to my mother.
“Morgan,” my mother hissed.
“They are outnumbered, Mom. Jude should be up here any minute, I just need to help Vincent and Peter hold them back.” I placed a hand on her arm. “Shoot anyone that comes around that bar.”
I looked back at Sully; she was wrapped up in Jenna’s arms. Tears streaming down her face.
Two attacks in less than twenty-four hours would be hard for anyone, but Sully was only sixteen.
She’d never experienced shit like this before.
I looked at Jenna, and she nodded, letting me know she would protect Sully.
Something passed between us then—a mutual respect.
We might never be friends, but we were no longer enemies.
I nodded back and slipped around the bar to find Peter and Vincent behind two overturned tables. They were popping up and down like whac-a-mole, each one taking a careful shot, while the intruders aimed back at them.
Knowing I hadn’t been spotted yet, I slipped behind another table and aimed my gun. The weight of the gun was so familiar; the recoil was just as I remembered it. And the bullet hit its mark. The man went down with a hole between his eyes.
Thank you, Uncle Mac, for making sure I knew how to handle a gun. My dad hadn’t wanted me to learn, but Mac had convinced him that we needed to protect ourselves when he wasn’t with us. It had taken some doing, but he’d finally relented, and every time he came to visit, he took me shooting.
I quickly crawled to another table and Vincent saw me. He glared at me long enough to let me know he would be telling Jude, then took aim, taking out another man who didn’t belong here.
That was two.
Three were left.
Peter popped his head up above a table and a bullet just missed him, lodging into the wooden tabletop. He dropped down to his stomach and leaned around the side of the table, taking out the man who almost got him.
Then there were two.
The remaining men had moved to the shadows when the shooting stopped. The silence was unnerving, and when I looked over at Vincent, he mouthed, Don’t fucking move!
I nodded, only because without knowing where the other two were, I didn’t dare make myself a target.
Vincent lifted up and before he could press the trigger, a bullet cut through the air and hit him.
My hand covered my mouth to muffle my scream as he fell back onto the floor.
Peter didn’t waste any time standing up and taking aim at the man who shot Vincent.
His head snapped back with the force of the bullet and he hit the floor.
I saw the last man step out of the shadows and aim for Peter.
I opened my mouth to warn him, but a shot rang out before I could say a word.
I wanted to close my eyes, so I didn’t see Peter fall, but he spun around and froze as the last man fell to the floor.
I peeked around the table and saw my mother standing behind the bar, the gun in her hand still smoking.
The sound of boots stomping down the hall was music to my ears. And when Jude and the rest of the men entered the room with guns drawn, I slumped against the table in relief.
My hand fell to the floor and I released the gun I held. I pulled my legs up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them and cried against my knees.
Jude fell on the floor beside me and gathered me in his arms. “What the fuck happened?”
I sobbed against his chest, unable to form any words.
“SULLY!” Pardon yelled, and I heard his heavy sigh when he found her behind the bar. Falcon had Jenna in his arms, and Smokey was holding onto my mother.
“Your old lady is a badass, Prez. Insane, but a fucking badass,” Vincent said from across the room, while Peter held a rag to his shoulder.