Chapter 13 Bullseye
T here’s something warm and wet on my face. It’s rough in texture and consistently moves across my skin, lapping up fluid like milk from a saucer. My foggy brain is slow to comprehend that it’s a tongue licking my face, which means I’m in Mags’s house, and one of her kitties is waking me up.
A groan escapes as I attempt to move, wincing as I crack one eye open. Bright sunlight is filtering through the open window. There’s no glass. It’s been shattered. A curtain hangs on a tilt, the material rippling in a gentle breeze from the broken rod. A robin drops onto the sill and chirps before hopping a couple of times and flying away.
Every inch of my body hurts. I feel like I’ve been kicked, punched, and beaten by a baseball bat. My head pounds as I blink, feeling woozy. What the fuck happened? I’m so disoriented it’s hard to focus.
Memories begin to form as I manage to push from the floor, sitting up to lean against a couch. Dinner with Xaden and Xiara. Exploding Kittens. Gunfire. The Crimson Heretics.
Fuck!
I spot Xaden across the room on his stomach. He isn’t awake, but his chest rises and falls in a consistent rhythm. It takes considerable effort, but I move toward him, spotting the dried blood matting his hair. As gently as I can, I run my hand over his wound. There’s a big bump, but it’s probably nothing serious.
I frown. Where’s Xiara?
Movement on my left alerts me that we’re not alone. I turn, hoping it’s my woman, but it’s Storm. He looks like shit, and I tell him that.
“You should find a mirror, asshole. You look worse.”
My gaze slides over the blood staining his shirt. “That’s a lot of blood.”
“No shit,” he spits.
Our voices must be loud because Xaden stirs, rolling onto his back. He winces as he touches his skull. “Fuck. Who hit me?”
“No clue,” I answer. Something is prickling the back of my neck. An awareness that everything is off, and it isn’t just the broken window and wrecked living room. Why is it only the three of us? Where’s the rest of the club?
As if on cue, I hear shouts coming from outside. There’s a scream, and I know that can’t be good. I hold my side as I stand and wobble, clarity finally returning as I remember the scuffle I had with three Crimson Heretics. The biggest of the three carried a metal bat, and he got in more than a few good hits before I took him out. I hear engines and rush toward the door, flinging it open in time to catch Storm, Bear, and Zoo. They ride onto the driveway and park.
The whole neighborhood seems to be awake as I see white cloths draped over several bodies. They litter the ground between Mags and Xiara’s houses. An ambulance is parked on the street, and two cops stretch crime scene tape around the perimeter to keep people out. A squad car is parked by the curb. I spot another at the end of the street, blocking anyone from driving onto it.
Officer Hannigan pins me with a glare as I stumble down the stairs. On the last step, I nearly trip as my boot lands on a furry surface. Moose, my aunt’s spoiled cat, growls and hisses as he darts out of the way. I see his fat bottom streak up the stairs and into the house.
For fuck’s safe. I swear I’ve never done shit to that cat. Well, other than stepping on him. Twice. It’s not my fault he’s a ninja cat and able to appear out of nowhere.
It shouldn’t take me as long as it does to wonder if one of those bodies is Xiara. Xaden seems to come to the same conclusion. He rushes down the stairs and nearly collapses as he reaches Officer Hannigan. She steadies him and calls for a paramedic. Xaden is lifted onto a gurney as he protests. The EMTs check him over and suggest he ride to the hospital to be sure there’s no permanent injury to his head.
“I’m not going anywhere!” He tries to push himself up and groans, holding his head in his hands. “She’s not here.” His pale blue eyes lock on mine. “She’s gone, Bullseye. They took her.”
What? Why didn’t he say so earlier? “Xaden!”
“I know. I just remembered.” He looks stricken. “Please.”
I know what he’s asking. I’m already on my way, ignoring the cop as she tries to talk to me.
“You don’t have permission to leave, Mr. Blade.”
I spin on my heel, not giving two shits as I get in her face. I’m in pain, weak, and still groggy, but no one is stopping me from rescuing Xiara. Not even Officer Hannigan. Let her try to arrest me.
“I’m going after my woman. She’s been kidnapped. If you cared about her, you would have looked into the assault and returned her calls.”
Her cheeks flush as she shakes her head. “You’ve got it wrong. I want you to go after her.” She blinks, and her eyes look glassy like she’s fighting tears. Her voice lowers. “There’s a leak at the precinct. We’re trying to lock it down. Xiara is caught in the crossfire between the Vipers and the Heretics. That’s not on you since Murder found her before you got together.”
Damn. How does she know all this?
“I’d like to help.”
“Lady, I don’t think there’s shit you can do.” I turn my back on her, striding towards my bike. The more I move around, the less stiff I feel. A ride on my Harley is all I need to shake off the last of this fog and focus on the confrontation ahead.
“I have an idea where they might have taken Xiara.”
I freeze. “And?”
“I’ll let you go, but I’m calling in backup and following you. You’ll have a ten-minute head start.”
My gaze shifts to Storm as he plants his ass on the seat of his bike. “Done.”
“Where?” I ask, opening my phone.
Officer Hannigan walks to her car. “I’ll send you the address.”
I don’t ask how she has my number or why she’s being cooperative. It doesn’t matter to me at the moment. All I care about is locating Xiara and killing any motherfucker who put his hands on her. If a hair on her head is out of place, I will paint the town in blood.
MY PHONE PINGS WITH the address as I sit on my bike. It’s in the old industrial part of town that’s now vacant. There are only old buildings and warehouses there. Some parts of that area are still in business, but not the section Officer Hannigan sent to me.
“Old Summit,” I tell Storm before we ride away from the house.
Murder has to know we’re coming. He took Xiara, and I’m gettin’ her back.
We don’t hide our bikes or numbers as we arrive. Storm already texted Bear, who spread the word. Last night, we made a mistake. We didn’t think the Heretics were much of a threat. As a result, they got the jump on us. The club didn’t take it seriously enough. Now, we’re paying the price. Me, Smoke, Cash, and Zoo all have injuries. Xaden’s hurt too. When Xiara finds out, she’ll freak.
But now we’re prepared. Better than that, we’ve come packin’, and every patched member is here. I want payback for bustin’ into Mags’s house and attacking my club. For kidnapping my ol’ lady and striking her brother. I need fucking vengeance.
Storm and Bear lead the way as we abandon our bikes and trek the short distance to the address. I don’t want to drag this out because Officer Hannigan said she’d only give me ten minutes. That’s not a long time to fuck up Murder and Lefty. Looks like we’ll be bringing them back to the clubhouse. It’s only fair they receive punishment for the same number of hours that Xiara has been missing.
We have to be smart about this, though. Once Murder knows we’ve arrived, I don’t know what he’ll do to Xiara. I know he hasn’t killed her. That’s fucking suicide. I will unleash a rage he can’t ever hope to contain. But he’s done enough, and now the Crimson Heretics have started a fucking war.
Storm doesn’t want this. The club voted against violence a few years ago, but we won’t stand by when we’ve been attacked. The Heretics forced our response. We don’t want to lose members. We tried to remain peaceful, but some motherfuckers are just too stupid to comprehend.
“We can’t go in guns blazing,” Storm announces. “I’m gonna try to reach Hangman and talk some sense into him. Bear, Heathen, Boomer, and Zoo, you’re with me. The rest follow Bull. Spread out and stay sharp. They’re expecting us.”
That’s the plan. I swear to fuck, I try to stick to it, but when I hear Xiara scream, I fucking drop those good intentions and rush the building. It’s chaos as the Crimson Heretics hear our arrival. Gunshots come from the upper floors as windows are busted open and glass shatters.
My club brothers move with me, firing at anyone who tries to stop us from entering the building. We drop the guards outside and move in, sweeping the interior of the building and taking no prisoners. There are only two members I want taken alive. That’s Murder and Lefty.
I see Lefty first, which worries me. Since Xiara screamed, it’s been silent. I have to assume she’s with Murder since Lefty is dumb enough to face me without her. She was the only bargaining chip he had. He seems to realize it as we face off.
“You know where she’s been the last ten hours?” he taunts. “Taking my dick. I fucked her raw and bleeding. Used her up real good.”
I’m going to kill him.
Smoke’s hand lands on my shoulder. “Don’t make it too quick.”
“That’s the plan,” I snarl, holstering my gun and reaching for my blade instead. I’ve always loved knives. There’s something beautiful about sharpened metal and the way it slices through skin, tissue, and muscle. “Put down the gun and fight me like a man, Lefty.”
He thinks he stands a chance of beating me. It’s almost cute.
Lefty tosses his gun and produces brass knuckles and a knife that’s a little smaller than mine. I should specify that my knife is nearly ten inches long and sleeps in a holster strapped to my upper thigh. She only wakes when the beast inside me needs to unleash, like now.
There’s no finesse in Lefty’s attack. He lunges for me, stumbles, and my blade sings as it slices across his back. “Fuck!”
“I can do this all day,” I laugh.
He attacks again, his clumsy movements far too unstable and erratic. His eyes are bloodshot, and I wonder what drugs are pumping through his system. He’s too high to be an effective opponent, and I grow bored. I’ve got no patience for Lefty.
Murder is the one I need to reach.
“Go,” Smoke orders. He’s the Sergeant at Arms. I’m just an enforcer. He calls the shots when the V.P. and president aren’t around.
Good for me.
I take off with Cash, Torque, and Gage. They follow me further into the warehouse until we enter a hall, run down it, and burst into the room on the other side. Murder stands beside Xiara. His fingers are wrapped around her neck, and he gently strokes her skin, patiently waiting for me to arrive.
“We’ve been having a lovely time, haven’t we, Xiara?”
This is the moment I’ve been dreading. The first few seconds when our eyes meet, and I’ll know if they’ve raped her. It’s a nightmare I know she’ll never fully recover from. I’ll have to own that it happened when I should have prevented it.
I hate that I failed to protect her. It’s filling me with so much rage that I’m trembling with it.
I finally dare to look into Xiara’s eyes; all I see is peace. There’s no fear. No horror. She doesn’t look traumatized or beaten. There’s no blood on her or ripped clothes. She looks like she’s been treated well. I hate that almost as much.
It doesn’t matter if she’s suffered or not. She didn’t come here of her free will. Lefty kidnapped her for Murder. He’ll die for it.
“Tell him,” Murder orders. There’s no hostility in his voice.
“He branded me.”