Twenty-One
F uck, bullets hurt like a bitch, but something more important was happening, and I couldn’t get my brain to absorb it. I was lying on something hard, and my arms were tied behind my back, and I was gagged. I was also blindfolded, or in a place so dark there was no light. My shoulder was throbbing with pain, and I groaned as my entire body was jolted about, in what I suddenly realised was the back of a van. A moving van. Those fuckers. They’d taken me hostage, and where the fuck was Sophie? I tried yelling for her, but the gag taped over my mouth made it sound like I was just yelling out.
“Shut it,” a voice barked at me, and I felt a foot kick at me at the same time. All I wanted to know was where Sophie was, but I was also terrified that when I found out, I’d see that they’d done horrific things to her while I was fucking unconscious, and knowing I’d failed her was worse than the excruciating pain in my shoulder. All I wanted to do was keep her safe.
I kept trying, trying to dislodge the blindfold, or the gag, or both, so I could try to reason with the fuckers, and stop them hurting her. Fuck, I’d fucked up so badly here. I’d meant to get her out from under their thumb, and instead I’d led to them hunting her down, and they’d hurt her, they’d kill her, but first, if I understood these fuckers right, they’d rape her.
Another blow to my head made the lights go out again.
Lowell, age 21
I ’d succeeded, and it was time to show my father that I’d achieved his goals, and could help the club grow their drug trade into new territory, with a new supplier, and I’d had to ride all the way back into town to tell him in person, because after almost three years of radio silence, it was time to speak to him face to face.
Something was wrong though, and instead of going into the compound, I coasted past it, eyeing the club logo on the gate. It wasn’t the Godless Warriors tag hanging proudly where it had always been, but it said Phoenix MC instead. Who the fuck were they, and where was my dad’s club? I’d tried to call my dad on the way into town, but his mobile wasn’t on, and now his club seemed to have disappeared, or had they been patched over? He’d never let that happen, would he? He’d die first.
I parked in the car park of a pub that had also changed name, and smartened up, since I was last here. It was a fucking gastro pub now, and not the local that our bikers would have spilled out into. Pretentious bullshit.
I headed for the bar, and ordered a pint, while I tried my dad’s number again. It was still off, and the only other number I had saved in my burner was Skull’s, and it was the last number I wanted to call, because I never wanted to speak to that fucker again, unless it was to tell him to go to hell, while I buried a knife in his throat. Still, I was desperate, so I pressed the call button, my heart pounding in my chest, and yet again, it was a no go. In fact, it said the number was no longer in use.
What the fuck was going on? I tried to find out more, but the phone I had was shit for research, and I needed answers now. There was an old guy propping up the bar, so I moved onto the stool beside him.
“Hey, man. You a local?” He eyed me up and down with disinterest.
“Yup.”
“I was looking for the biker club around here?”
He nodded, jerking a thumb behind him. “Phoenix MC, can’t miss ‘em. Nice guys too, not that we expected much after the last lot.” Last lot? As in my dad and his club? Where the fuck had they gone?
“What last lot?” I felt sick, like everything had changed while my back was turned, and I was adrift, lost .
“Those fucking Godless Warrior assholes. Good riddance to the lot of them.” Fuck! What did that mean? I wrapped my hands around my beer, so I wouldn’t start beating on him for more info.
“Yeah? Where’d they go then?” Tell me something important, you useless fuck, or I’ll fucking lose my shit.
The old guy leaned close, lowering his voice.
“Word is, and I heard this from a fella down at the caff, the new guys cleaned house. Killed off the leaders of the old club, and rebuilt right on top of it. Couldn’t have happened to more deserving assholes if you ask me. Plenty around here would have willingly pissed on the old bastard president’s corpse.”
What the fuck? I felt like I couldn’t breathe, as a wave of horror and grief washed over me. They’d killed the president, aka my fucking father? How the hell did his happen? The Warriors were fucking deadly, trust me, I was more than aware after growing up there. How the hell was it all gone? How was he gone? Why didn’t I know? How had I not heard about this?
“When… uh… when was that?”
The old guy shrugged. “A year, longer, I dunno. Cops’d know, since the crime levels dropped with those wasters gone.” Don’t kill him, don’t kill him. Get out clean. Find somewhere to hole up. Regroup. I had to research the fuck out of this, and find who did this. If it took me the next ten fucking years, nobody would survive killing him.
A hand slapped my cheek, none to gently, and it shook me awake with a jarring shock.
“Aw, he’s waking up at last,” a familiar voice said snidely. Who the fuck was that? It didn’t sound like Crusher, but then I was barely conscious, and the pain in my shoulder had roared to life again.
The blindfold was whipped away from my face, and I blinked into the dim light, which still felt too bright at first. The cold, dank space suddenly looked all too familiar, and I lifted my head, to see a face I never thought I’d see in person again.
“Welcome home, fuckhead. What is it they say? This time it’s personal .” Torch’s fist slammed into my face, and the chair tipped back, knocking my head against the concrete with a dull thud, and a resounding wave of pain. Darkness washed over me again, and I passed out.
Sophie
I woke up in a dimly lit room, with a strange man leaning over me, wearing a leather cut, and a wary look on his face. I gasped, trying to move away from this stranger, and he lifted his hands.
“It’s okay, love. You’re safe now, I promise. I’m Doc, with Phoenix MC, and you’re in our infirmary.” He lifted his head and spoke to someone out of my eyeline.
“Get Reacher and Lissa, kid. Let them know our guest is awake.” My eyes darted around, seeing a young guy with ‘Prospect’ on his back, disappearing through the door and closing it. The rest of the room looked like a small infirmary, like he’d said, with three other beds in it like the one I was on, and shelves of medical equipment. My head throbbed and spun with the effort of looking around, and I groaned as my stomach churned.
“You’re concussed, love, but it’ll pass. You slept on and off for the last few hours, but you probably don’t remember me waking you now and then, to check on you.” I tried to think back, but he was right. I didn’t remember a damn thing. The one thing I couldn’t see, and desperately wanted to, was Micro. Had they found him? Had they hurt him? Was he safe? I knew he’d had bad blood with this club, so I thought I shouldn’t mention his name, but I needed to know.
“What happened? Did they stop the Rogues? Is… is my boyfriend safe?” Doc’s face dropped, and he turned with relief when the door opened, and in stepped a huge, bearded man, and a petite redheaded woman.
“Pres, just in time. Our lovely guest has questions I don’t have the answers to. She needs to stay on bedrest for now, while she heals from the concussion. There’s also a sprain to her wrist that seems to be healing, but looks like someone grabbed and twisted her arm. I’ve got ice on it for now, and she needs pain relief. Let me do that, and then I’ll leave you in peace.”
“Gotcha.” The bearded guy and the woman waited until Doc left the room, after handing me some pills and water to wash them down with. I really hoped they started working soon.
“Hello, Sophie, do you remember me from the video call? I’m Reacher, President of this club, and this is Lissa, wife and old lady of Ice, the man you chatted to first on the call. She’s also our resident therapist.” They had a doctor and a therapist? That wasn’t like any biker club I’d heard of before.
“I… I remember you, but I don’t remember what happened after the call,” I said timidly, chewing on my lip, as I looked from his grizzled face to the pristine beauty of the woman beside him. Her lips lifted into a soft smile, and for a moment, she looked familiar, like I knew that smile. It was her, wasn’t it? Micro’s sister. It had to be. I held back that realisation, because while I thought she might listen and not judge, I had a feeling Reacher wouldn’t.
“Let’s pull up a chair and update you then. Is it okay if we both stay?” He asked before he moved, and I nodded, so surprised by his gentle nature, and apparent kindness.
They seated themselves on opposite sides of the bed, but I didn’t feel trapped or penned in. I felt safe, and that was an odd experience for me, especially around strangers.
“Tell me, please. You had bikers on the way already, didn’t you?” Reacher nodded, lifting four fingers.
“My VP and three others were incoming, and outnumbered, but they were able to take down your attackers and bring you here, where you’d be safe and get treatment. I promise you no harm will come to you here, Sophie.”
I believed him, and that was a strange way to feel, with a man I barely knew.
“My… did you manage to rescue my boyfriend?” His eyes darted over to Lissa, but when he looked at me again, nothing in his expression gave me any hope.
“Oh god, please don’t hurt him. He’s a good man, I swear!”
Reacher sighed, almost reaching over to pat my hand, before he stopped himself, reaching up to rub at his eye instead.
“Reacher,” I heard Lissa say softly, and he nodded.
“I’m sorry, Sophie, by the time my men arrived, your boyfriend was dead. There was no chance of saving him, but we did retrieve one of the culprits, and he’s being dealt with downstairs right now. His time on this world has come to an end.” His tone was hard as he finished speaking, but my mind was reeling, and I felt sick to my stomach. Micro was dead? We hadn’t even had a chance to say goodbye to each other. I’d been considering a future with him, and now he was just gone. It was my fault too, because I’d put him in the path of the Rogues, hadn’t I?
“On that note, I should get down there before they kill him. I need a few answers still.” Reacher nodded at me, and left the room, while I fought the crushing waves of pain, grief, and sorrow.
Lissa moved closer to me as the door closed.
“I’m so sorry, Sophie, you’ve clearly been through so much, and I’m heartbroken for you losing your love like that. I feel responsible in a way, because I could have taken action sooner, and maybe it wouldn’t have come to this. I was weak, and it cost you everything.” She wasn’t making any sense, but she took my hand, the uninjured one, and squeezed it gently.
“How can he be gone? He was right there, sending me off somewhere safe, while he went to lead them away or something. He put his life on the line to save me, and not for the first time.” I was sobbing now, and my words were probably incoherent, but Lissa looked like she understood every single one. She nodded, her eyes filling with tears in sympathy, and she squeezed my hand again.
“I’m so sorry he took him from you. He did so many bad things, but I thought he was feeling remorse, and all this time, he was just the same as our father. Rest assured the club will give you any support you need, as will I.” Her words weren’t really sinking in, and she stood up, pacing at the foot of the bed.
“Lissa? Are you okay?” I whispered, as I realised I wasn’t the only one in pain here.
“You’re the one who lost so much, Sophie. I just… I guess I wish he’d really changed, and… and they wouldn’t be down there torturing him again.”
Torturing. Changed. ‘Our father’. Oh god . It took me too long to understand what had happened. The dreadful mistake they’d made. The horrifying realisation that they had the wrong man down there right now.
“Wait. Lissa, is Micro the one downstairs?”
Her eyes widened as she turned to me, her hands fisted at her sides.
“Of course. Stitch and the others worked out he’d been with the other club, and killed your man. He… did he do that to you too?” She pointed at my wrist.
WHAT?
“Oh my god! Lissa, no! We need to stop them, right now! Please!” I tried to leap out of bed, but staggered a few feet, as the room seemed to turn into one of those fairground rides that rolls over and over.
“No, you mustn’t get out of bed, Sophie. It’s… it’s okay, I mean it isn’t, but I can’t stop them now.”
“No!” I fought off her attempts to put me back into the bed, even though my legs were barely supporting me.
“Lissa, listen to me please! Micro didn’t kill my boyfriend! He IS my boyfriend!”