Chapter 20
Twenty
Light
My bike screams beneath me as I push it to the absolute limit, but it’s nothing compared to the noise in my head, because if he’s touched her, I’m not stopping until every last bone in his body is broken.
I don't bother to look behind me to see if the rest of my brother's have followed me.
I know they haven't. Brick is probably still trying to smooth things over with the other crew.
We called them all the way out here on a promise that they'd be able to finally deal with Deke, and it seems like we didn't make good on that promise.
Diplomacy. As backward and useless as it might seem for a bunch of jailbird bikers, I know it's needed to keep everything running smooth. The last thing we need right now is another crew thinking we burned them on purpose. We don't need that kind of heat.
I understand why Brick and the rest of the guys had to stay back. But right now I can't concentrate on them. I have to get to Melissa.
The rock in my gut gets bigger as I skid to a stop in front of her houses.
The same house I've been to dozens of times before. The one that usually holds laughter and peace. The place I learned what it really feels like to love someone is deadly quiet.
I don't hear Melissa. I don't hear Deke. No one.
Part of me worries that I might be too late, that Deke has already taken out his anger on Melissa and is just waiting for me to show my face so he can kill me too. I can barely force my legs to move. The only reason I do is that I'm praying that he hasn't.
Slowly, I move to the door and test the door knob. It turns easily in my hand.
I push the door open and look in the corners just to make sure I'm not about to be jumped.
I feel completely naked. Being a convict, we're not allowed to carry weapons.
Especially since I was convicted of a violent crime, if the cops ever catch me with a weapon it'll be a quick trip back to being locked down, but right now I'd give anything for a gun.
Something I can use to protect Melissa. I don't even care what happens to me.
All that matters is that I get Deke away from her.
I move as carefully as I can, checking the corners and dark spots for him. There's not many places that he can be. I make my way past the living room and down the hall to the bedrooms. The second I turn my head, I hear her.
"Mmmmm! Mmm!" Melissa is still tied up with the tape around her mouth. Her eyes are wide, and she's bleeding a bit from a cut over her eyebrow, but she doesn't look in too bad of shape. Thank goodness for that.
I can't focus on her for very long because as I take one long step into the room, Deke stands from where he was hiding behind the mirror and steps behind Melissa. I come to a complete stop when he places the razor sharp knife to her neck.
My whole body locks up.
Melissa’s eyes are frantic, her chest rising and falling in short, panicked bursts as the silver blade presses into the soft skin of her neck. One wrong twitch and he’ll open her up like a fucking letter.
Deke grins at me from behind her like he’s already won.
“You shouldn’t have gotten involved, Light,” he says, voice smug and shaking at the same time. “This had nothing to do with you.”
My fists clench at my sides. I take a step forward, slow and deliberate.
“Anything to do with Melissa and Tyler is my business now,” I say, my voice low and steady. “And it always will be.”
Deke scoffs and presses the blade in just a little harder. Melissa flinches but doesn’t cry out.
“She means that much to you?” he asks, his tone somewhere between curious and mocking. “Enough to die over a piece of paper?”
I pull the folded bill of sale from my pocket and hold it out between two fingers. His eyes dart straight to it like a starving man looking at his last meal.
“You want it?” I say, lifting it slightly. “Come get it.”
For a second, the tension snaps taut enough to strangle the air out of the room. Deke hesitates. I can see the calculation in his eyes. The greed. The desperation.
He lowers the knife from Melissa’s neck and steps around her.
Big mistake.
The second his hand reaches out toward the paper, I move.
I drop the paper and throw my fist forward, catching him hard in the jaw. Bone cracks beneath the impact, and he stumbles back, growling like an animal. He swings the knife toward my face, but I duck and drive my shoulder into his gut, slamming him against the wall.
He grunts, tries to bring the blade down again, but I catch his wrist.
We struggle, limbs tangled, adrenaline pumping through my veins like gasoline on fire. He’s strong, but I’m stronger. I shove him back, punch after punch landing wherever I can find space. His lip splits, his nose shatters under the force of my fist.
But then I feel it.
A hot, searing sting in my thigh.
Deke jerks back, the knife slick with blood, and I stumble slightly as the pain lights up my leg.
“Fuck,” I hiss.
I stagger, but I don’t fall.
He’s smiling again. That same twisted grin like he thinks he’s got me. Like one stab is enough to stop me.
He couldn’t be more wrong.
With a roar, I grab him by the front of his shirt, lift him clean off his feet, and spin toward the window.
“You want to hurt her? You want to fucking die for it?”
Before he can answer, I hurl him forward.
Glass explodes as his body crashes through the window. I hear him scream as he hits the ground outside with a sickening thud, followed by silence.
Shards of glass rain down like jagged snowflakes.
It's not over, and there's no way I'm letting him slip through my fingers again.
Ignoring the blood and pain coming from my thigh.
I hop through the shattered frame and land on the ground next to him.
He's already up on his feet and gets in a swift kick to my gut that has me gasping for air.
He tries to kick me again, but this time I'm ready for it.
I grab his foot as it comes toward me and push him backward just enough to give me some space.
Getting back to my feet, leaving as much weight as I can off my injured leg, I raise my hands ready to continue. Deke is thin, but he's resilient, I'll give him that. There's no sign of him stopping.
"You dumb piece of shit!" He growls and lunges for me again.
He's faster than I expected. I manage to block one of his blows, but he lands a good one against my left cheek.
The contact has my vision swimming for a second before I steady myself.
This time, when he swings again, I duck and uppercut him hard in the gut.
Deke coughs and gags hard like he's about to throw up.
When he turns, I take a step forward. I didn't realize until it was too late what he's reaching for.
He bends to pick up the knife and in the next second he's swinging it in my direction like a fucking sword.
I jump back once and twice, but he's still coming for me like a crazed animal.
Like a crazed animal with no control.
I steady myself and wait. Patience has never been my strong suit. But tonight I'll wait for my opening. One he's giving me without even realizing it.
Deke swings the knife in my direction. The blade pointed to the side instead of straight forward, his hand wrapped tightly on the metal grip.
This time instead of just dodging away, I move to the side and grab the elbow and shoulder of the arm he is swinging, and I shove him with all my weight. Directly into the electrical box.
The lights in the house flicker and I watch as Deke seizes up violently.
His hand glued to the metal knife in his hand as the massive jolts of electricity zaps through his body.
Smoke and the smell of burning flesh instantly fill my nostrils.
I'm sure it wasn't that long, but it feels like minutes go by until Deke's body goes completely stiff, and he drops to the ground like a falling tree.
Smoke rises from his charred hand, and blood seeps from his ears and nose.
Slowly I lean down and press a finger to his neck.
Perfection.
No pulse.
I stare at his body for one breath, then two, making damn sure it isn’t some trick. The bastard’s eyes are open, wide and lifeless. No rise in his chest. No twitch in his limbs. Just the sick stench of burnt skin hanging in the air.
It’s done.
I pull myself upright, biting back the scream climbing up my throat as my leg protests with sharp, white-hot pain. Blood’s still leaking down my jeans, soaking into my boot, but I don’t care. Not right now. I limp to the back window, shove the shattered pane wider, and climb inside.
Melissa’s still in the chair, her head bowed, shoulders trembling.
She’s crying.
That sight alone hurts worse than the knife ever could.
I move toward her, slow and limping, but she hears me.
Her head snaps up, her eyes locking on mine.
She jerks forward, trying to speak behind the tape, trying to get free, her whole body straining toward me like she doesn’t believe I’m real.
“I’ve got you,” I whisper, voice rough. “You’re safe now.”
I reach her, hands fumbling for the zip ties with clumsy fingers. The blood loss is starting to take its toll, my vision narrowing and the edges of the room going soft, but I force myself to focus.
The tape peels away first. She gasps for air, but doesn’t waste a second before kissing me, my cheek, my jaw, my lips, over and over like she’s trying to convince herself I’m real.
“I’m so sorry,” she cries against my skin. “I didn’t know. I didn't know he'd be here. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”
I shake my head and press my forehead to hers.
“You have forever to make it up to me.”
She lets out a breathless laugh that cracks into another sob, and I finally get the last tie off her wrists. She collapses into me, clinging tight, her body pressed fully against mine.
I wrap my arms around her, even though my legs are barely holding me up.
“I love you,” she whispers.
I blink, the words cutting straight through me. I let them settle in my chest, where they already belong.
“I love you too.”
The pain spikes again, and this time I can’t fight it. My knees give out. Melissa lets out a startled cry as I lower myself to the floor, bringing her down with me.
“I’m okay,” I murmur, eyes fluttering closed. “I just need a second.”
Her hands are on my face, cupping my cheeks, trying to keep me awake, but I can feel the pull now. Like the weight of everything that just happened is finally settling into my bones.
The last thing I hear is the low rumble of motorcycles rolling up the driveway.
My brothers.
And with Melissa in my arms, their engines shaking the ground, and the worst behind usI know I’m going to be just fine.
Because this is what home feels like.