Chapter 8 #2
“Go, go, go!” The headlights all flared to life, and I turned mine on as well.
I grabbed one of the water canisters and so did King and Barber.
We washed away the chalk paint, more so that the next person to drive out here wouldn’t get into an accident than because we were worried about the cops figuring out what happened.
“What about the lights?” I asked.
King dragged out his cell phone. There was a pop and two bright flashes in the night.
“What did you do?”
“Controlled explosion. If they do find pieces of the lights, they’ll probably just think it’s wreckage from the car, unless they really drag the CSI team out here. I doubt it. They have two drunk assholes and a wreck.” He shrugged.
Everyone who wasn’t working took off on their bikes, driving much more slowly and carefully than the way Red and Undertaker had ridden in.
The second we were done, we rushed to the bikes and secured the water tanks, popped on our helmets, and then we took off, too.
My heart was hammering and I was wide awake as the chilly night air settled into my bones. There was something about the fog that made the cold bite more, and I wished I’d thought to bring my gloves, but I hadn’t.
It took us about an hour to take a winding long way around into New Gothenburg, then get our asses to the clubhouse, and I was the last one to pull in when we arrived. King and the others were already inside.
Loud music wafted out into the night but immediately stopped, so I figured King had already started story time. He would be a legend once again.
He deserved it, though. This was all his idea.
“You okay?” Rogue asked as he took the water canister off my bike. He had a wheelbarrow full of our equipment, which was destined to be dumped somewhere.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” I winked at him and walked into the clubhouse. My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I groaned, refusing to check and see if I was being cursed out more. Maybe this time it was all my ancestors who were getting chewed out.
Straightening my spine, I traveled through the short entrance hallway. Laughter greeted me as a roomful of people stood around drinking. It didn’t take me long to notice that the only guests in attendance tonight were some Harlots and club members and their significant others. No stragglers.
I stomped up to King. Will sat on a barstool nearby, pointedly ignoring me as he sipped on a beer.
“Do you think they’re corpses?” I asked loudly, not sure if I wanted to piss Will off or not, but he had to realize I couldn’t fucking take him out there with us in the dead of night, in the fog, when sometimes he could barely walk.
King shrugged, and Josh passed him a glass of amber alcohol. He lit up the cigarette he must’ve saved all the way here, and Dallas sat nearby not saying a word. A victorious King was a sight, and Dallas seemed mesmerized, too far gone on ogling his man to yell at him for his vices.
“If we’re lucky, they’re impaled on some fucking tree branches.” He saluted me with his glass, then slammed it, and the room erupted in cheers. “Fucking pricks. Come into our house and fuck with us? You’re gonna fucking regret it.”
There was more happy yelling and scattered applause that eventually broke down into laughter.
King told the whole story of the way he’d tricked the cops into driving off the edge of a cliff to their doom, and this time there was an absolute uproar when he finished. I even clapped myself.
When I glanced back at Will’s barstool, it was empty, and my gut began to churn. Where had he gone?
Josh grabbed my elbow. “You looking for Rook?”
“Yeah. How’d you know?”
He rolled his eyes. “He’s outside somewhere. He took a lantern and a gun with him. I don’t know what he’s doing. Said he was burning off steam.”
“For fuck’s sake,” I muttered and scooted toward the door. I burst out into the dark, foggy night, but here in the city it wasn’t quite as bad.
The gunshots were loud, and I rushed through the junkyard toward the ravine in the back because I could see the bright glow and it guided me directly to Will.
He was sitting on a bucket, popping off shots at beer bottles that were lined up along the ledge.
The LED lamp he had was the type of bright that made my eyes hurt.
I was surprised when a small blonde in a short pink dress waved at me. She wore a Harlots jacket and bounced on her toes, trying to keep warm.
“You want me to run out there again?” she asked. Her voice was breathy and reminded me of an old-timey actress. I wasn’t sure why, but I thought she must be borrowing that jacket.
“If you would,” he said, grumpy and perfect, just the way I loved him.
She grinned and hustled out to the edge of the ravine. Another bucket sat there, and she dragged bottles out, setting them up near the edge.
“Scar’s not going to like it if he gets glass in his ass the next time he comes out here to look at the sunset.” I walked over to stand next to Will, who didn’t glance up at me once.
“Fuck Scar. I don’t care.”
The woman ran back and stood near us. “All yours!”
He fired the gun. The excitement from earlier was back because he took all the bottles down. Maybe he couldn’t go out and raise hell the way he used to, but he was still deadly. I licked my lips and took a step closer to him so I could smell the gunpowder—and him.
“Good job.” The girl leaned down and gave him a hug, and I wanted to shove her on her ass, but I restrained myself. He caught me glaring and smirked as he patted her back.
“Who are you?” I asked as she straightened.
“Rode in with Red.”
She was clearly good at this game. That told me precisely dick.
“Red a lesbian now?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.
She grinned. “Not really my business. Who are you?”
“Will’s boyfriend.” I scowled in her direction.
Nodding, she began to walk in the direction of the clubhouse with her phone out to illuminate the way. “No trouble, boys! I’m gonna go find Red.”
We both watched her walk off.
“What the fuck?” I nudged his foot with mine.
Will only snorted and stood, still not looking at me. He kicked the bucket, sending it careening toward the ravine, and it rolled the final few feet over the edge, disappearing.
“How many times do I have to tell you not to leave me out?” he shouted.
I slapped my hand against my thigh. “It was one of King’s crackpot plans. Still can’t believe it fucking worked.” A short hysterical laugh escaped me. “But if it hadn’t, we would’ve had to be fast getting the hell out of there. We would’ve been chased by drunk, angry fucking cops!”
He raised his hands to his sides, ghostly in the bluish light from the lantern. “And I can’t do that?”
“No! And you fucking know it!” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “You can say what you want, but no. You’re not in the shape to do that shit.”
“And I don’t get to decide?” he snarled.
“Not for something this fucking stupid, no. You don’t get to go out there when the chances are that someone will fucking die, even if they’re in top shape.”
He shoved me. “These are my choices.”
“Fuck!”
I raised my hands when he lifted the gun in my direction, but he kept going and tossed the fucking thing into the ravine. A shot rang out into the night.
“Asshole.” I rolled my eyes.
He ignored me and picked up the lantern, then headed back toward the clubhouse.
“Can I come in with you?” I asked, following hot on his heels.
“Fuck you, no!” He swung the lantern at me, but he wasn’t really trying to hit me.
“Will!”
He ignored me, saying nothing, and worry ate at my stomach like acid. Before the accident we used to get into shouting matches and sometimes smack each other around for the hell of it, then apologize, but this was different.
The expression on his face was final, and I hated it.
We’d been having a really sweet time since we’d started fucking, and I wanted to keep it, not lose out because of some well-deserved revenge.
He went around the front of the clubhouse and dumped the lantern in the hallway that led into the barroom, which gave it a creepy funhouse vibe.
King was sitting on the bar holding court, and there were people gathered around him.
Even with rock music blasting from the sound system, you could hear him loud and clear.
“Yeah, I got the idea from ship wreckers. Motherfuckers used to walk with lamps back and forth along shore so ship captains would be tricked into thinking they were boats. Those big fucking boats with all sorts of expensive loot on them would run aground and capsize, killing off the crew. Then, the ship wreckers would just scoop up the good shit when it washed ashore and sell it. Live like kings. And we’re Kings. You know, we’re kindred spirits.”
He laughed, and everyone standing around hanging on his words did the same. He was a conductor and they were the symphony. It was inspiring to stand back and watch him work a crowd.
“I thought, shit, why couldn’t that work for us? Those red lights we rigged up looked just like taillights.”
“Destiny thinks you’re a genius, honey!” I hadn’t realized that Destiny and Bishop were here, but Destiny walked over and slapped King on the hip. He tossed his long blond hair. “And the commissioner lost two flunkies. He’ll probably figure out who did it.”
“Good. Fuck him.”
More laughter ruffled around the room.
Will slipped upstairs, and I dodged people who were still listening to King rhapsodize about how we were really just fulfilling a societal necessity.
I tuned him out and took the stairs two at a time, chasing after Will.
I almost got inside his room, but he turned and shoved me back out into the hallway.
“What was I supposed to do?” I asked, exasperated. “Let you kill yourself out there tonight?”
He snarled at me.
I shivered. God damn, he was sexy.
“If I choose to go out that way, fucking yes!”