Chapter 34
Hound Dog
E very moment that I thought we were out of trouble, it was the same knocking like a family member you don’t want at holiday celebrations.
Melody gripped me tighter and tighter as I looked for some sort of plan or opportunity. The Hogs were relentless, driven with the greed of claiming something they lost years ago.
Melody’s hand slid over my chest, right where my heart was pounding ready to burst out of my chest.
She was still with me, hanging on for dear life.
As we went out of main traffic, I led them through the backroads, when it was all clear they would speed up tailing us. If I could reach to my side and pull my piece out, I could get off a couple shots until my backup arrived. Shooter told me that there would be a couple of the guys along the back road near the compound.
But the Hogs were getting closer and I didn’t know how much longer I could hold them off. One of them got out of my blindside, riding close to Melody. Melody jolted, shocked by a man close to her. Her body tensed up, her hands gripping me tighter.
Where the fuck was my backup?
“Get the fuck away from her,” I growled out.
They crept up closer, trying to sideswipe me.
Protect the club, protect her.
The bike started to wobble as I looked in the mirror to see Melody being grabbed at like a piece of meat. She started to fight them back, yanking back her arms, clawing at them. I didn’t know what they wanted, whether it was to scare us or take her or take me out.
The other bike beside me inched closer and closer, making me whip the bike from left to right. If they wanted to throw me off balance, they were relentless.
A flash of metal met my eyes, a gun shining danger.
Melody’s hands returned to me, tucking her head close to my back. I had one thought and I prayed that it would work. Or at least work until I could get closer to where my brothers should be meeting up with us.
I tapped her hands, grabbing her attention, her worried eyes blinked in my mirror. “Honey, remember the short lesson Shooter gave you on gun handling?” More like two and a half hours, but with no target practice. She nodded her head. Good girl. “I need you to grab my piece and start shooting.”
A bold decision but time seemed to be slowing down instead of rushing. She hesitated, probably replaying the command I just gave her, in disbelief that she would be needing to start shooting. It said a lot to me that I had faith that she would be okay for the time being.
Her shaky hands reached for my side as I continued to battle the bikes trying to edge me out. I kept pulling back, slingshotting their bikes forward. But they would mimic what I did.
Fucking hell.
Melody finally grabbed my gun, cocking it back. This was the most dangerous thing I could have asked of her. Without a second thought, she let a shot ring out. It missed the bike on the right, but not by much.
“Try again. The guys should be here any minute. You’re doing well.” I tried to praise her, but she let out a piercing scream as the man on the right tried to yank on her. She fought back, giving the man a shovel, eventually kicking at him. The guy swerved, pulling back a few yards, trying to readjust before trying to pull back up.
I was too busy watching behind me, and finally noticing a shine in the distance. But it was too late, Melody had yelled, “Hound Dog, watch it.”
The remaining man on the left pulled out his piece, waiting to aim at me. He practically had a lock on me.
They’re not wrong when they say that your life can flash before your eyes. I sensed the failure in my scream, overpowering moments of being with family, moments with Memphis, moments of being on stage, then being patched in, and even the moment I laid eyes on Melody. I failed at the moment of being the president I wanted to be, I put everyone in this position, or maybe I didn’t fight hard enough.
A shot rang in my ears and I jolted the bike to a halting stop, my breathing a little heavier. I looked for the entrance wound, only there wasn’t any.
I turned to see Melody. Afraid to find what I found.
A heated Melody holding the gun, with no entrance wound.
No way.
I turned back and saw my brothers slowing down. She had shot him. We all saw the bike wobble down the road to finally crash to the ground. And the surviving bike turned away and high tailed it out of our sight.
Blue, Shooter, and Twitty stood there with idled bikes in awe and wonder. Melody was frozen in place. The gun was still in her hands, her hands were shaking after the fact. If I had doubts before, they were washed away. If she had doubts about being in this life with me, in this role, those would be washed away.
I cut the engine, putting the bike on the kick stand, and she looked at me with those hazel doe eyes. I reached my hand out for the piece, waiting for her to break out of her frozen mind. It was like she was trapped between overthinking and quietness, like stuck between the before and after. Blue rode closer to us.
“I got this Prez,” he said, before focusing on Melody. I stepped aside, unable to help for a split second.
“Melody,” Blue calmly said. Melody’s eyes darted to Blue and his soft expression. “Hey, little darlin’. You’re okay. Just focus on my voice.”
I itched to get closer, but Blue, unfortunately, had a lot more experience in handling the aftermath of events like this. Especially with his ol’ lady and his daughter.
“I’m going to take the gun away, okay. It’s all over. We got you.” He inched closer, slowly taking the gun out of her hands. “I know it’s a lot but your man and the club has your back.”
Melody’s blank stare kept looking through Blue. Shooter and Twitty stood watch, and if I didn’t know any better Shooter was calling Greene, at the very least to start the cover up. No one would know she took a life.
I never wanted to darken her soul like this, no matter how much we convinced ourselves that we did it out of love and protection.
Blue was centimeters away from her trembling hands, he shot me a look to get ready for what happened next.
As soon as she let loose of the gun, Blue stepped back and Melody’s eyes started to flutter, her body going limp. I thankfully caught her in time, her heart steadied, her mind was shutting off. “I got you. I’m not letting go,” I cooed, hoping that she heard me. “Get a truck here, now.”
It wasn’t long before I loaded her in the back of a truck, and followed them to the compound. Twitty clasped his hand on my shoulder, once I parked. “She chose you.”
Yeah, she did. I carried her small body back to the exam room to have Shooter check her out before I laid her out on the bed, because the aftermath of the first kill was going to be a rough road. And for an innocent soul like Melody, my Melody, her mental strength would be put to the test.
“Hound, Greene’s in the office.” B.B crept up behind me as I let go of Melody in the exam room.
I nodded and shuffled toward the office, which wasn’t used often, but in moments like meeting with Greene and out of the eye of the men, it was better to use that room. B.B stayed close behind.
Greene stood there waiting for us, giving a subtle nod in acknowledgement.
Suddenly there was a twinge of annoyance that washed over me, the look on his face was with a mixture of unpleasant news or uneasiness.
“Not one for house visits, don’t know whether I need to feel honored or concerned.”
“I don’t know what happened,” he began.
“You said you were making arrests, obviously you either didn’t know or you’re too slow to do your job,” I roared out. My own annoyance didn’t disappear.
Greene’s eyes darted to me. “You think it’s fucking easy to make arrests in another state? Yes, our jurisdiction but a whole other fucking state.”
“Sounds like a personal problem,” B.B muttered under his breath.
I held up my hand to tell me to stop before he said something he would regret. “Someone was dragging their feet then, because if you said you were making arrests when you said you were, I wouldn’t have this situation on hand.”
Then Greene’s slight guilt appeared on his face. His body softened. “Shooter said your ol’ lady shot someone.”
“Between you and the club, yes. To anyone else, I shot the bastard.” I’d protect her from any blame or sideways looks from people if they judged her for protecting me, for taking a chance and succeeding.
“With all due respect, if you’re looking to pin this on someone, Hound, it’s not me,” Greene warned.
B.B stepped in front of Greene, squaring up to him. That was one thing about B.B, he was all sunshine and rainbows out of his ass, but the minute that someone challenged us, it was like he would turn into a whole new person.
I stepped around the desk, my boots heavy on the floor, I clasped a rough hand on Greene’s shoulder. “Make the fucking arrests or you won’t have to worry about them.”
“You going to wipe them out?”
My voice boomed off the walls, “That’s what they are doing to us. That’s what they have been doing. If it wasn’t for the fact that the club has respect for you and what you do for us, we wouldn’t be having this problem.”
“A scorned lover makes for a ruthless killer,” B.B chimed in.
Greene heavily sighed. “They are happening.”
I nodded. “Good and when they do, you let us know.”
“What so, you can make sure I’m doing my job,” Greene snarked.
“So I know that I did the right thing. So I know that my club is protected. So that woman that I fucking love and would burn the streets of downtown for if that would make her happy know that she won’t have to worry about nightmares.” I gripped his shoulders tighter.
Too much had happened and everything felt like it was spinning out of control. Like a severe level twister was trying to ram through my life and take everything I loved and I worked for up into the cyclone. Of course I was mad at myself, blaming myself in every direction.
I couldn’t look at many others. My own adrenaline was coming down and all the fire in me burned something fierce. When Greene left I sank into the office chair. When I could hear my own heartbeat in my ears, I exploded.
In my own rage, I swiped everything off my desk, not caring if there was something important or not. I knocked over anything I could, trying to take the pain of failing away. I punched a wall, leaving a dent in its path. I felt arms gripping me, pulling me away from the path of red I was feeling.
I busted from those arms pinning the owner’s throat to the wall with my arm. In the haze, my eyes focused on a struggling B.B. calling out my name.
“Hound Dog. Brother,” he kept calling. He didn’t call for help, but enough noise was made for people to become alarmed.
I felt another pair of arms grab at me from behind, hauling me away. “Someone fucking hold him before he actually rampages through the state of Tennessee.” I heard him cough out.
B.B straightened back up and faced me, staring into my eyes. “Are you going to listen to me?”
What a stupid fucking question in a time like that.
I yanked off whoever was holding me, setting myself free.
B.B didn’t back down. “Are you going to listen to me?”
“Speak your mind then,” I growled out.
I may need to calm down.
“Whether you actually hear me or not, but what happens after is what I care about,” he started. “For too long you have taken all our mistakes, mishaps, and incidents on your shoulders. You drop everything to handle a situation rather than allowing us as a club, as a board to do what we were voted in to do. You are not the savior, you do not have to prove yourself.”
I could feel my body ease up on the tension.
“It’s your way or the highway. I get it, after you took over, you had the vision, I remember our talks. I know you. Stop trying to take blame for everything that had nothing to do with you.”
“You say it’s easy to just let go and hope that no one walks over me, take everything the club has worked for?”
“Have you looked at yourself? You really think that someone would be that brave and stupid enough to challenge you?” B.B challenged. He leaned closer to me, saying the one statement that might have snapped me out of it, “This isn’t the record company.”
No, the club wasn’t the record company. Far from it. The club was an escape, the club took me in and challenged me to be more vocal, to become powerful. They showed me how to take charge and remain loyal.
B.B was right. I spent years in a shell of protecting myself from making another mistake and showing complete and blind trust like the record company. When I gained back my life, my control, I put up a barrier that I didn’t think was one. I protected myself from getting hurt again.
Just like Melody did for years.
A knock interrupted us and I found Shooter at the office door, confused at the scene before him. “Um, I was just coming to tell you, she’s awake, but if this is a bad time, I’m just gonna come back.”
B.B sighed. “No, this is the perfect time.”
Trust and let go. That’s basically what he said to me. What he’d been trying to say.
I scanned the room, looking at all the evidence of destruction. As much as my mind told me that there was more to think through, there was only one person on my mind.