Chapter Twelve
You know what hurts like fuck? Any kind of open wound on your fucking calf, especially when you’re trying to run.
Even worse, when some smart fucker says, hey, let’s climb over the gate, rather than risk opening it, in case any of these feral bastards escape.
Part of me wanted to shove Torch face first over the fucking thing.
It was only about eight feet high, but climbing it, with pain screaming in my left leg, was not easy.
Now, watching my sweet lady scale it, like she was a fucking career burglar, was hot.
That ass moving so lithely above me as I watched her carefully?
Sexy as hell. Torch was already waiting on the other side, to catch her if she fell, even though I’d have to punch him for touching her if that happened.
That was probably enough bravery that I should stop cursing him for being so able bodied, while I was struggling far more than I’d admit.
I didn’t even make it over the fucker, and that was embarrassing as hell. My leg couldn’t take it, and I was almost at the top and trying to haul myself over, when it gave way, and I slid back down and landed on my ass.
“Ryder!”
I groaned, staying down, because I couldn’t fucking move for a minute.
“I’m okay,” I yelled, wishing I could see her and know she was okay. The fucking gate was no window, that’s for sure.
“You want us to wait, man?”
“Keep going. Torch, get my old lady to safety, please. Send help. I’ll keep anyone else from getting out.” I wasn’t sure how the fuck I’d manage that mean feat, but I’d do my best. I had to offer up something in the face of my embarrassing failure, didn’t I?
“Gotcha. Let’s go, Tor.”
“Torch!” I heard him curse, as he waited for me to continue.
“What?”
“Touch her, and I’ll feed your severed arms to you.”
The fucker just laughed. “Sounds hot, man. It’s a date.
” I heard them running, and was grateful as hell that Tori was away from this shit, even if I wasn’t the one protecting her right now.
Torch was a dick at times, usually in the best possible way, but he wouldn’t let anything happen to my wife, my fucking world.
I turned and sat back against the gate, resting my leg, while I tried to figure out what I could find to tie around it, and staunch some of the bleeding. There was a first aid kit in the President’s office, and probably in Grease’s too, but they were too far from the gate to be of use.
I eased my cut off and rested it on my lap, so I could get my shirt off, and then the t-shirt I had under it, slipping the shirt and cut back on, before I rolled up the leg of my jeans, and grimaced at all the blood.
It couldn’t be all that bad, but the blood made it look worse.
I looped the t-shirt around my calf and tied it around my shin, so it’d try to keep it clean and bleeding less.
It was the best I could do until we got help here, or Doc or Grace sobered up.
I realised I hadn’t seen either of them, and that bothered me.
Not because Doc couldn’t handle himself, but because some old ladies were still unaccounted for, and that was terrifying.
I’d seen Elise with Has, so I knew she was safe with him, because, no matter what crazy shit was going on, they seemed to be in it together.
Lissa, Cammy, and Sophie were safe in the building we’d left them in, and Tori was outside.
That left Ally and Grace. Reacher was nowhere to be seen either, so hopefully he had his old lady somewhere safe with him.
Jesus, I didn’t want to think about what kinda shit might be going on, wherever the hell they were.
If we lost either one of them… fuck. I didn’t want to even consider it.
Grace wasn’t with Torch, but he hadn’t seemed concerned, so I figured he’d kept her safe, but where the hell was she?
I couldn’t shake the terror of the unknown, the fact that among all the shit I didn’t know, there was one thing I couldn’t fight as a certainty.
We’d lose someone. How many gunshots had rung out now?
How many fucking people might be laying dead somewhere, or bleeding out.
How many of my brothers, of my family, might be dying while I sat on my ass?
I couldn’t just stay here. I couldn’t just succumb to my fucking exhaustion and pain, because somewhere in this night of horror, there was a culprit, and we still hadn’t found them.
I dragged myself up, using the gate as a crutch to take my weight, and then I cast my eyes around the dark space.
The floodlights that usually lit the place up seemed to have failed now, and that meant I was watching shadows moving around the dying fire light, and that made it almost impossible to see who was who, and what they were doing.
I needed to corral them somehow, but without knowing who among us was a threat, I didn’t know if there was someone among them, trusted by all of us, who’d turned against us.
It wouldn’t be the first fucking time, would it?
Grace
Ilay back in the van and stared at the ceiling, which showed vivid pictures to me.
On some level, I knew it shouldn’t be, but as I was watching a naked Torch dancing for me, as he shed his clothes, one garment at a time, I was more than willing to enjoy the weirdness.
He was coming for me, and he’d want my ass.
I shouldn’t like it, but I do. It always felt so good when he filled me and owned me like that.
I eased out of my clothes, along with my movie of my man stripping off, my fingers sliding down the sides of my neck, and over my breasts, as I tweaked my nipples firmly, like he would, and ran them down between my legs.
I’d keep myself ready for him. Hot and wet, and desperate for his cock.
Desperate for his mouth, and his hands. For every inch of him.
Come back to me, Torch, I need you inside me right now.
Intruder 2
What I signed up for was taking back the fucking club, but what I got instead, was this twisted mess that Roadkill had created.
Did we really need to fuck them up like this?
I thought the plan would be bullets in heads.
Swift, decisive, and fucking permanent. And now?
He’d disappeared on me, and our careful plans were falling apart around me.
While he’d been busy, I’d subdued three out of four prospects, and two of our former brothers, and two of the Phoenix cunts.
But him? He’d disappeared into the building where the Pres had his office, back in the day.
Probably where that prick Micro now sat, and pretended he was man enough to run a club.
I should have done this alone, because I was the one doing all the fucking work.
We’d had two other guys backing us, but they were on the perimeter, watching for escapees, and prepared to take them out, as and when they tried.
Our plan had been for me and Roadkill to pick others off one at a time, as they got trapped in their heads, and whatever freaky shit the hallucinogen was making them see.
Again, his idea, not mine. Spiking multiple kegs was hard, especially with so many new cameras around.
I had to give him credit for his presence of mind though, because he’d already had cameras set up outside the boundaries of the club, as part of his surveillance, and they hadn’t found those.
We’d used them to monitor where new cameras went, and to plan how to dodge them.
We’d had to disrupt a couple of them, just to get through with equipment, but all of Grease’s damn attempts to secure the place were constantly hampered by lazy, arrogant prospects.
Crusher would have killed them, the first time they fucked up, but not Micro.
No, that prick had no idea how to run a club.
I saw Roadkill suddenly hauling ass out of the doors, and waited for the explosion, because surely to fuck, if he was running like that, he’d just lit the place up, but no… there was nothing. Tell me you’re not fucking running scared, man. I backed the wrong fucker for sure.
Micro appeared in the doorway, casting his eyes around, and yelled something I couldn’t hear from my spot behind the storage building.
I’d gathered my captives right there, kneeling in the fucking wasted beer, and that was a crime right there.
Beer was to be savoured, not spilled on the fucking ground.
Mind you, we’d had to do the same to the bourbon, to make sure enough of them got fucked up by drinking the beer.
Angry eyes were glaring at me, as my cuffed, gagged captives probably thought they could scare me into backing down, but they were out of luck.
Hell. We were all out of fucking luck. There was no way this was going down in my favour.
In fact, I was better off cutting my losses and getting the fuck out before shit went wrong.
Micro was gone again, and that’s when Roadkill reappeared, peering inside before he started pouring petrol from a can all around the door, and just inside.
He tossed the empty canister aside, and tossed something inside, that lit the place up like a fucking bonfire.
Finally. He was finally taking fucking action.
I caught him as he made his way back to me.
“You done pissing around now? I’m doing all the fucking work here!” I gestured to the tethered assholes on the ground, and he shrugged.
“Was kinda having fun, but those fuckers can die in there, while we take out the rest. A ‘Pres’ and a VP both wasted at the same time.” I nodded, begrudgingly impressed, but he wasn’t finished.
“Well, them and those bitches of theirs.” The fuck?
I caught his arm, and he groaned, shaking himself free of my grip.
“Fuck’s sake. We came here for a massacre, remember? That’s men, women, and children, fuckhead.”
“Children? The fuck? There are kids in there?”
He shrugged. “Was about to be. The pregnant bitch is busy squeezing one out right now.” Jesus fuck. This asshole was insane! I wasn’t down for killing women, and now a fucking baby? A pregnant woman giving birth? Hell fucking no.
I punched him, kicking him as he landed hard on his ass. “You cunt! You’re not killing women and fucking kids! What’s wrong with you?”
I turned to stare at the building, which was now burning, with flames licking up the walls, and filling the doorway.
Even if they could lock themselves in one of the offices, they had no windows.
The place was a fucking coffin. I needed water.
I needed a lot of fucking water, and I needed help. Jesus.
I started to move, and that’s when I heard Roadkill yell, and something punched right into my fucking back, a burning surge of agony that took me down hard.
Jesus Christ. The fucker shot me. He actually shot me!
I couldn’t get back up, I couldn’t fucking move.
Whatever he’d hit, I was done for. And all I could do was die here slowly, watching that building burn down, filled with women and children. A fucking baby. Motherfucker.
“Shoulda just stuck with the plan, you pathetic pussy.” Roadkill spat on me, and stepped over me, heading out of sight, as the brightness turned to eternal darkness.