Chapter Twenty-Six
Bones
“What’s the location?” I ask, turning to Maverick. My fists are already clenched. “I’m going to meet her.”
“No,” Spike says firmly. “If Muerte shows up and notices you’re missing, he might grow suspicious.”
I turn to him slowly, heat rising up my spine.
“No offense, Spike,” I grind out, jaw tight, voice low and dangerous. “But I don’t give a fuck. ”
Everyone goes quiet.
I pace once, twice, trying to shove down the fire inside me. My hands won’t stop curling into fists. I should be there. I should be the one pulling her off that goddamn plane, wrapping her in my arms, telling her she’s safe now.
Instead, I’m stuck here, waiting.
Helpless.
Spike watches me, calm but firm. “She’ll be with you soon, brother. And when she is, you can fall apart. But right now? We need you stone cold.”
I stop pacing.
He’s right. I hate it…but he’s right.
And I do want to be here when Muerte shows his smug fucking face.
“I’ll stay,” I growl. “But the second my woman and Abby are safe in the bunker, I’m done sitting on my hands. I don’t give a flying fuck how many men Muerte has. He’s dead”
Spike nods. “Good. Because the second he steps onto this property, he’s yours.”
My knuckles crack as I flex my fingers. “Damn right he is.”
Spike’s phone buzzes.
He glances at the screen and answers, jaw already tight. “Yeah?”
“ Ah, Presidente, ” Muerte’s voice drips with charm. “I come bearing good news. I’ve decided to return the blonde one. Consider it a peace offering.”
Spike doesn’t respond, just listens.
“My men and I will be there within the hour. Nothing dramatic. Just a friendly visit.” A pause. “Oh…and one more thing. If anything happens to me… if I’m touched, or so much as looked at wrong, there are standing orders to kill the mouthy one. Immediately.”
Spike’s nostrils flare, but his tone stays even. “You think pretty highly of yourself, don’t you?”
Muerte laughs. “Confidence, hermano. It’s all part of the charm. See you soon.”
The call ends, and Spike pockets his phone with a sharp exhale.
“Tank,” he says, turning. “Call in the South chapter. I want them stationed at the checkpoints around the compound. No bikes, no cuts. Street clothes. Eyes open. I want to know the second Muerte’s crew crosses any line.”
“On it,” Tank nods, already moving. But at the door, he pauses and glances back. “Abby…”
“Is going to be alright,” Spike says firmly, with that quiet confidence only a big brother can pull off. “Now get those checkpoints set up. I want eyes on her the moment she’s close.”
Tank nods and disappears down the hall.
“I’m going to get Riley and Asher below,” Spike says, already moving. “In the meantime… prepare.”
I don’t say anything. I just turn and head for the door.
“Where you going, Bones?” Skip calls after me.
I pause, just long enough to let it land.
“To sharpen my blades,” I say without looking back. “I’ve got a pig to slaughter.”
“ Fuck yeah, ” Skip whoops. “I call front-row dibs!”
Crazy bastard.
“Let’s go,” I say. “You can make sure the restraints are ready.”
***
“Ro just checked in,” Tank calls out. “Max and Sunny are two minutes out.”
“Thank fuck,” I mutter, already pushing out the door and heading for the front gate.
Patch is just pulling up on a bike…not his usual one.
“Hey, brother,” he says as he parks. “Your woman is one tough ray of sunshine.”
“Is she alright?” I ask, trying to see past him. “This isn’t your bike.”
“Nope,” Patch says, swinging off. “It’s Max’s. They’re in my car.”
I scan the road, heart pounding.
Patch’s expression sobers. “I can’t give you a real answer without an X-ray. But I can tell you I pumped her full of some damn good pain meds. She might not be awake when she gets here.”
“As long as she fucking gets here, I don’t care,” I admit.
“I can have an X-ray brought to the compound,” Maverick says, calm as ever. “It’s portable, but it’ll give you the results you need. That work?”
“Absolutely,” Patch replies without hesitation. Then he squints at Maverick. “Who the fuck are you, Maverick?”
The man just shakes his head, the hint of a smirk tugging at his mouth. Fucker’s always full of secrets.
“You know,” Maverick adds casually, “if you’d reopen your practice, you wouldn’t have these kinds of problems.”
“You know,” Patch shoots back, “you could mind your own fucking business, Outlaw. ”
Maverick chuckles and nods. “Too pushy. Got it.”
“Here they come,” Spike says, eyes locked on the approaching vehicle. “Get them in and get that car hidden before Muerte shows.”
I’m already moving, rushing forward before the car fully stops.
“Front seat,” Patch calls out, grabbing gear from the back.
The second I open the door and see her…my beautiful woman…rage tightens in my chest at the sight of her. Her hair is a mess. Her face is etched in pain. But underneath the fury, there’s calm.
She’s home.
“She’s out,” Max says, climbing out and shutting the door behind him. “Get her settled before she wakes. She’s in rough shape, but she fought hard.”
I nod and reach in, gently unbuckling her seatbelt before lifting her into my arms.
“I’ve got you, baby,” I whisper, pressing my face to her hair.
“How soon can you get that X-ray here?” Patch asks behind me as I start toward the house.
“Not for at least an hour,” Maverick replies.
“Hey, brother,” Spike says, nodding toward Patch. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”
“You know me, Prez,” Patch replies. “I like to keep to myself. I’ll head down with the little lady. Keep things locked down.”
But when I reach the hatch in Spike’s house and look down at the long ladder, I stop short.
“How the fuck am I supposed to get her down there?” I ask, shifting Sunny slightly to ease her weight.
“You can’t jostle her, Bones,” Patch warns. “We don’t know what internal damage she’s got. It’s not worth the risk.”
“Then we settle her in my bed,” Spike says. “It’s the best we can do for now.”
“This is a problem we’re going to have to fix later,” Skip mutters. “No way that ladder should be the only way in.”
“Tank, have Knuckles go down with Riley,” Spike orders. “Patch, you good to stay up here with Sunny?”
“Yeah,” Patch says, already moving. “But I need to get her cleaned up before she’s settled in bed.”
“I’ll do that,” I growl, not wanting anyone to see her naked.
“No time,” Spike says, glancing at his phone. “Muerte’s here.”
My blood runs cold.
“I’ll be respectful, Bones,” Patch says, locking eyes with me. “You have my word.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I lower her gently onto Spike’s bed, brushing hair from her face. She doesn’t stir.
Leaning down, I press a kiss to her lips…light, lingering, like it might have to hold her until I can get back.
“I love you, Sunny,” I whisper. “I’m so fucking sorry I brought you into this mess. But I swear I’ll never let harm come to you again. Not ever.”
I rest my forehead against hers, just for a second.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Then I stand, turn, and head for the door.
With murder in my heart.
“I sure as fuck hope Max got that car moved,” Spike mutters.
We step outside and sure enough, it’s gone.
He did his part.
“Max,” Spike calls out. “I need you inside. Don’t want Muerte knowing you’re here. Where’s your bike?”
“In the garage,” Max says, glancing at me.
I meet his eyes. “Thanks for getting her back to me, Max. But now you need to disappear before he gets here.”
Max nods without a word, then jogs toward the clubhouse, disappearing inside.
Two minutes later, that fucking SUV rolls up to the gate.
Four of Muerte’s men step out first, spreading out to surround the vehicle like clockwork…tight formation, hands resting on weapons.
Then Muerte himself steps out, dressed like he’s walking into a boardroom instead of a war zone, all smug grin and snake-oil charm.
“What a wonderful welcome,” he laughs, arms wide. “If I’d known there’d be a crowd, I’d have brought cake.”
“Where the fuck is my sister?” Spike growls, taking a step forward, hands twitching.
“Oh! I knew I was forgetting something,” Muerte says, all fake realization, then yanks open the SUV door and pulls Abby out like she’s a trophy. “Go on, little mouse. Back to big brother.”
Abby doesn’t hesitate…just bolts. But not to Spike.
She runs straight into Tank’s arms.
Muerte raises an eyebrow, watching the reunion. “Well now… that’s interesting.”
Behind him, one of his men quietly disappears…dragged backward behind the SUV without a sound.
Muerte dusts off his hands. “Anyway. See? Good deed done. I’ll be off now.”
“I want Sunny,” Spike snaps, keeping his attention. “Where the fuck is she?”
“No can do, el Presidente. That fiery little thing belongs to me now. And remember, if I don’t check in every thirty minutes, she gets a bullet in the skull. No use for her if I’m dead.”
Another of his men suddenly jerks back out of sight…choked off before he can even cry out.
Muerte keeps rambling, too busy basking in his own bravado to notice the shift.
“What was the point of giving one of them back?” I ask, stepping closer, voice sharp and low.
“ Trust, my dear boy,” Muerte says, smug. “A gesture of goodwill.”
“I think that ship sailed,” Skip mutters.
“Where’s the traitor?” Spike demands.
“Max?” Muerte grins. “He’s back home guarding my new little plaything. Handy guy, that one. I know everything about this place now. Every room. Every hiding place. Every member. Every secret.”
That’s when the last man drops. Throat slit and crumples beside the SUV like a ragdoll.
And Muerte?
Still hasn’t noticed.
“Now, we both know that’s not true,” a voice calls out.
Muerte freezes.
Turns.
And there’s Max, standing atop the SUV, gun in hand, boots braced, eyes cold as death.
“Okay, this,” Muerte says, gesturing to Max standing atop the SUV, “I wasn’t expecting.”
“Any last words?” Max asks, voice cold as steel.
“The girl will die.”
Max smiles. “No…she won’t.”
“Don’t kill him, Max,” Spike orders.
“He’ll just come after them again,” Max mutters, jaw clenched.
“No,” I growl, stepping forward. “He won’t.”
“Bones and I set up his special room,” Skip adds with a grin. “And those answers you were looking for? I bet our guy here can carve them out of him. Get it? Carve them?”
Skip laughs at his own joke, bent over at the waist, slapping his knee like a maniac.
“Skip, take Abby in with Sunny,” Spike says, steady and controlled. “Tank, escort this fucker to the basement.”
“They’ll know it was you, Max,” Muerte says, still smug despite his shaking hands.
“I don’t give a fuck,” Max fires back. “I’ve got nothing left to live for anyway. No family. Nothing but myself. Let them come.”
“Touching,” Muerte sneers.
“Walk, fucker, or I drag your ass,” Tank says with fire in his eyes.
Muerte sighs, then lowers his head and starts walking.
“I’ll handle the bodies and the SUV,” Max mutters, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Foster, go with him,” Spike commands. “And I want both of you back here in an hour. That includes you, Max.”
“Why?”
“Because you fucked up,” Spike says, calm but firm. “You should’ve told us what was going on. We would’ve had your back. But the truth is…you still came through. You got our girls home. Helped Riley when she was taken from me. Come back. We’ll figure the rest out tomorrow.”
Max pauses, searching Spike’s face, then nods once.
As I turn to head back toward Spike’s house, I catch Foster’s voice behind me.
“You and I never got the chance to really get to know each other,” he says to Max.
I don’t wait for the reply.
All that matters now is Sunny.