Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
STORM
Isn’t your life supposed to flash before your eyes when you’re staring down the barrel of a gun?
Mine doesn’t. I should be terrified. There is fear, of course there is...
The man who once left me bleeding out on this now filthy floor is pointing a gun at me.
But it isn’t the fear that surprises me.
It’s the anger; it burns so fiercely my entire body trembles. Zeke mistakes it for terror.
He smirks. “Scared now, Tori?”
I force my back against the wall, making myself relax, even though every muscle is screaming to move. “No.” I smile. “I’m just trying to figure out how fucking stupid you really are.”
His smile falters. “What?”
“Your plan.” I shrug. “Go on. Tell me.”
“I don’t owe you an explanation,” he huffs.
“No?” I tilt my head. “Then I’ll take a guess.
” I nod towards the gun. “You shoot me.” His grin widens.
“I die.” Another nod. “My dad tears towns, cities, the entire country apart looking for you.” His jaw tightens.
“The Black Hearts hunt you until there’s nowhere left to hide.
” I pause deliberately. “So, then what?” Silence.
“You think killing me fixes your problems?” I let out a humourless laugh.
“It doesn’t. It just guarantees you that you’ll never stop running.
” I watch him, and I mean actually watch him.
His eyes flicker as his grip shifts. He’s thinking.
Good, keep thinking. The wheels turn behind his eyes before a slow, unsettling smile spreads across his face.
“You’ll see.”
“Oh?” I quip back.
“When your dad gets here.”
My stomach drops. He saw. He saw me on the phone. He laughs at the look on my face. “You really thought you were clever?” He taps the side of his head with the barrel of the gun. “I’m a surgeon, Tori. I notice everything.”
Fuck!
“So, yes,” he says softly. “I let you send your little location.”
My pulse pounds in my ears. Why? Why would he…? Then it hits me. He wants them here. Every brother, every patched member. This isn’t an escape plan. It’s a trap.
I swallow as the panic tries to claw its way up my throat. “So...” I force a smile. “For someone who notices everything...” I glance around the apartment. “You still missed the part where beating your girlfriend nearly to death wasn’t going to end well.”
His smile disappears.
“You chose the daughter of the President of the Black Hearts MC.” I chuckle. “Honestly.” I shake my head. “You really aren’t the brightest bulb in the box.” His nostrils flare. “Stephen Hawking you definitely ain’t.”
His face turns crimson. “SHUT UP!” Spit flies from his mouth.
His eyes are wide, wild, gone. The calm doctor mask slips completely.
For the first time, I don’t see Zeke. I see a cornered animal.
Dangerous. Unpredictable. Exactly the kind that lashes out before it dies.
A low rumble breaks through the silence.
Harleys. Dozens of them. My heart stutters.
They’re here. Zeke hears them, too. His head turns sharply towards the window as the engine noise grows louder.
Closer. Closer. He takes one step, then another, peering through the filthy glass.
Now. It’s now or never. I don’t think. I just react.
Swinging my leg with every ounce of strength I have left, I kick hard into the back of his knees.
He crashes forward with a yell. Everything slows.
His finger tightens around the trigger. CRACK!
The gun fires. White-hot agony explodes through my shoulder, and the force throws me backwards into the radiator.
A scream rips from my lungs. “DAD!” My ears ring.
The apartment spins. I taste blood. Breathe.
Move. Move! The gun skids across the floor.
Zeke sees it. So do I. We both lunge. The chain bites viciously into my wrist, tearing skin as I throw myself forward.
My fingertips brush the grip. Almost... Almost...
Suddenly he’s on me. His thumb drives deep into the fresh gunshot wound.
Agony detonates through my body, a raw scream tears from my throat, and my vision blurs.
No. No, you don’t. Not again. He reaches for the gun.
I roll, twisting my hips and driving my heel as hard as I can between his legs.
He lets out a strangled cry, collapsing sideways, both his hands clutching himself.
I don’t hesitate. Pain screams through my shoulder as I drag myself across the floor.
The metal tears deeper into my wrist. I don’t care.
My fingers finally wrap around the gun, and relief crashes over me.
I scramble backwards until the radiator hits my spine.
The gun shakes violently in my hands, not from fear, but from adrenaline.
Zeke slowly stands, his bloodshot eyes locking onto mine. Then he laughs. “Tori...” He actually laughs. “You’re not a killer.” He spreads his arms. “It isn’t in you.”
My breathing steadies, and for the first time I’m calm.
A slow smile spreads across my face. “No!” I nod.
“You’re right. I’m not a killer.” I tighten my grip.
“But I am Ghost’s and Star’s daughter.” His smile fades.
“I’m a Black Heart.” I hear the brothers pounding up the stairs outside.
Closer. Closer. “In this family...” I say, levelling the gun at his chest, “... we believe in vengeance.” His eyes widen.
“We’re the judge.” I squeeze the trigger.
The gun bucks violently in my hand, and the bullet slams into his chest. He stumbles backwards, staring down at the spreading bloom of crimson soaking through his white shirt. “We’re the jury.”
He looks back up, disbelief filling his face. “No...”
“And we’re the executioner.”
He lunges and I fire again. Another round tears into him.
He staggers and I fire again. Each shot drives him backwards until his knees finally buckle.
Blood spills from the corner of his mouth.
His hand reaches towards me, not in anger, but in desperation, like he wants me to save him.
I don’t move, and I don’t blink. I simply raise the gun one last time.
“The verdict’s guilty.” I pull the trigger.
The final shot strikes him between the eyes.
His body collapses, hard, still, and silent.
The only sound left is my ragged breathing.
The gun slips from my fingers, clattering onto the floor as I stare at him.
At the man who haunted my nightmares. The man who stole months of my life.
The man who thought he’d broken me. He’s gone.
My entire body starts shaking uncontrollably.
Not from fear, but from shock. From relief.
From the sudden crushing weight of knowing it’s finally over.
Warm blood pours down my arm. I glance at my shoulder.
The wound is still bleeding heavily, soaking through my shirt and dripping onto the floor.
Everything feels... far away. My head falls back against the cold radiator.
I stare through blurred vision at the apartment doorway.
Waiting. Watching. Listening. For boots, for voices.
For Drix. For Dad. For Enzo. For my family.
“Please...” I whisper to the empty room. “Hurry.”