CHAPTER 33 GRETA
GRETA
Idon’t think so!
As Iron Jack and Grey Beast leap from the helicopter, I yank on my seat harness.
“Don’t take off,” I warn Jax. “I’m getting out of here.”
He simply smiles at me. “Of course you are.”
“You’re not going to zap me with that thingy to keep me from leaving, are you?”
He straightens his tie. “Wouldn’t dream of it. But I must tell you, I will be taking off the moment you exit this vehicle. I do not meddle in the affairs of the determined and the just.”
“Fine by me.” I push off the seat to jump out, then hesitate. “Thank you for coming for me.”
“My pleasure. Should you need me, use the blade.”
My forehead crumples as I grasp the knife still tied to my side with a scarf. “Really?”
“You’ll figure it out. Go and vanquish the enemy!”
And with that, I jump out of the open door and scoot from beneath the rapidly pulsing blades.
The flying dirt makes it hard to make anything out, but then, it will also make it hard to shoot me.
God, what am I doing?
I spot a metal barrel and run for it, ducking between it and the treeline, hoping there are no Kin in the forest behind me. I have no time to assess the situation, and the dust makes it impossible anyway.
The helicopter rises, taking with it the wild wind and cascading dirt.
I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand, but that only makes them burn. I can barely breathe, so I untie the scarf and wrap it around my lower face. I should be holding the blade anyway.
I slide it from the sheath and peer around the barrel as the air clears. For a moment, I see no one.
Then two figures approach each other in the clearing.
Iron Jack is one.
The other is a tall, menacing man. I recognize him from Jax’s tablet. Anarchy.
I glance wildly around. Anyone could shoot Iron Jack from anywhere.
But then, anyone could shoot Anarchy, too.
There must be some tacit agreement that they won’t. They know the two warring leaders must settle this.
Will one of them have to die?
What life am I living? I’m a single mom in Jersey. Now I’m at a biker fight, in the middle of a club feud, brought here by some secret vigilante.
No one would believe this movie. Two stars on Rotten Tomatoes.
Except it’s real. Down here, among these people, it’s absolutely happening. I just didn’t know it could. Stupid city girl. They were right all along. I don’t know anything.
Iron Jack shouts loudly enough for all of us to hear. “I’m afraid Grey Beast wasn’t ready to kill me off for you.”
There’s a movement near a rusted-out car, and Grey Beast steps out. “I don’t think your plan worked out like you thought it would.”
Anarchy kicks at the dirt, a revolver hanging loosely at his side. My anxiety is high. Iron Jack carries a knife, not a gun. This could be over in three seconds, like that Indiana Jones scene where the ninja waves his blade and Indiana just shoots him.
“Too fucking bad,” Anarchy says. “Now we’re going to have blood on my front door.”
I glance around at the burned husk of one building. The larger one stands, but it’s charred, and the entrance hangs on its hinges.
“You sent a chicken-shit messenger to the bar,” Iron Jack says. “You couldn’t have been more cowardly.”
Ohhh, why does he have to insult him? I can barely stand it, bent behind the barrel, watching this play out.
How can we get out of this? Is it possible to just go home and forget about it?
Except Iron Jack can’t. Home is a reminder of what he lost. Home is the leadership role forced on him because his parents were murdered. Home is where he had to return despite a promising career in L.A.
Anarchy twirls the gun on his finger, as if considering whether to simply shoot him or not.
I can barely breathe. I want to do something. It’s impossible to just stand here.
The winter sun bears down. It’s so much warmer here than in Jersey. I don’t know what I can do or should do, given I have a son at home.
But Iron Jack means something to me. I don’t know what exactly, not after two weeks. But it’s more than I’ve felt before. I’m another person with him. Stronger. Braver. More alive.
I sense movement to my right and look away to see if there is a new threat. But it’s Merrick. He’s spotted me and seems livid to find his sister here.
He makes a motion with his hands for me to stay low. There’s blood on his leg. Is he shot? It must have happened in the time between when we last checked the tablet with Jax and the landing.
Oh, God.
I feel hazy for a second. How much could I lose here? My brother? Jack? My own life? Why did I get out of that helicopter? I could be watching this from Jax’s tablet, safely above it all.
But when I turn back to the clearing, watching Iron Jack edge closer to Anarchy, I know this is exactly where I’m meant to be. To bear witness. To be with Jack, no matter how this plays out.
And, maybe, to intervene.
Could I?
What do I have to offer other than knife flailing and an amateur aim with a gun?
I look down at myself. I have who I am. What I look like. The suede boots. The tailored pants. The silk shirt and classic camel coat.
I’m a city girl through and through.
Bikers like them make fun of people like me.
Which means they underestimate me.
I pull my scarf off my face and retie it around my waist, wrapping it around the sheath to conceal it but ensuring the blade still pulls out easily.
Maybe we’re surrounded by forty bikers with more experience than me, more practice, more fortitude, better aim.
But I have one thing they don’t: the element of surprise.
I don’t know what I can do. But I know that if the time comes, I will act.
Merrick waves at me. I can see the movement of his arms. But I ignore him, refusing to turn his way.
As the standoff continues, the Wild Hair start to make themselves known by standing in support of their leader. They’re in the trees, waiting behind the rusted car, hiding behind a pile of crumbling bricks.
The Kin are less visible, but I see them in the building, lurking in the shattered windows, standing behind posts.
I swallow hard. If Merrick’s injured, so are others. For all I know, people will end up buried in the marsh, like they said on my first day at the Leaky Skull before all this began.
Hoss’s face appears from behind a bike parked near the mouth of the drive. Blood is smeared across his forehead.
There has already been a skirmish. But now that Iron Jack is here, we are near the end.
Grey Beast keeps his distance but stands in solidarity with Iron Jack. He’s unarmed, wearing only his fight shorts and shoes. But he’s here.
Loyalty like that can’t be bought. It’s all through the Wild Hair. I don’t see it in the Kin. There’s fear in their eyes. They want to run. But they must not have anywhere else to go.
“You going to shoot me?” Iron Jack shouts. “This is getting tiresome.”
Anarchy’s hand twitches around the gun. He’s no longer spinning it but aiming it at the ground. His finger is on the trigger.
Iron Jack is closer now. Close enough to leap and strike? Or will he bluff his way out like at the wedding?
“You know,” Anarchy says, “I think I will.” He lifts his arm.
Shit. Time to get out there.
“Baby!” I shout, running out to the clearing. “What will I do without you!” I lift both arms and race his way.
“Get your city bitch out of here,” Anarchy says. “Or I’ll shoot you both.”
I’m aiming for Iron Jack, but when Anarchy says that, I make a quick, decisive turn toward him instead.
“Greta! Get out of here!” Iron Jack shouts, but he’s miles too late.
I yank the blade from my sheath, and the feeling is like the day in the swamp, naked, knife over my head, bringing it down on the vines.
I hear the gun fire, but I’m already in motion, the metal winking in the sun as I bring it down on Anarchy’s outstretched arm.
I’m not sure which happens first, the shot or my slice on his arm, but as the blade hits bone, Anarchy releases the gun to the ground, stumbling back.
He holds his arm, streaming blood, and falls to the ground.
Kin pour out of the building, and more shots are fired, but the Wild Hair race out as well.
All around me, the sounds of fighting fill the air.
I turn to find Iron Jack in the fray. Where did that shot go?
But he’s fine, fending off two members of the Kin. No one is coming for me.
I don’t think I can be responsible for not rendering aid to Anarchy, who is trying to stem the blood flow with his fingers.
I sheath the bloody knife and yank the scarf off my belt, dropping to my knees to wrap it tightly around Anarchy’s arm. I grab a stick and twist it into the fabric, ratcheting it to tighten down on the wound.
The dust stirs again as everyone runs out of bullets and resorts to blows. Anarchy looks me in the eye, both angry and confused. “You aren’t even an ol’ lady. What the fuck are you doing here?”
I sense the fighting has slowed. There are fewer grunts and smacks. No gunfire has erupted in minutes.
Someone could come up to us at any moment. I reach down to pick up his gun and aim it at his head.
“Get the fuck out of Miami,” I tell him. “You and the Kin. I’m just a city girl with bad aim. Killing you would be the lucky way to go, given I’m just as likely to hit your balls as your brains, if there’s a difference.”
He stares at me for a minute. “No city girl is taking me out.” He stumbles to his feet. “Kin!”
Nothing happens. Anarchy looks around wildly, finally able to yank his gaze from me.
I keep the gun trained on his head. I’m shaking so hard I will very likely miss, but I’ve talked a good game.
The Wild Hair are alone. The Kin have scattered, tree branches crunching as they run. They assumed I would kill their leader, and they took off.
Iron Jack comes up behind me. His face is bloody now. “The Kin are good for drug selling and not much else. They done ditched you.”
Anarchy keeps searching, but the only Kin left are the ones being held by Wild Hair members. “Fuck,” he says, slamming his hands into the dirt. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
I have the gun aimed at Anarchy. “What do we do with this asshole? Bury him in the marsh?”
Iron Jack steps beside me. “He’s your mark now. You can shoot him if you like. We’ll handle the body.”
I can’t do that. “Take his phone and send him into the woods. See if he’s got enough mettle to make it to civilization with a wound like that.” I point the end of the gun at my reddening scarf on his arm. “Watch out for alligators. They know when prey is weak.”
Hoss approaches and turns Anarchy toward the forest. “Walk. Don’t look back or the city girl will shoot your ass.”
We stand there, watching them go. I don’t know if Iron Jack is satisfied with this conclusion. He might send someone after him later to dispatch him. Maybe he doesn’t want me to know what they do.
He claps his hands together. “Wild Hair, round up all the bikes and put them in the truck! Throw any Kin you have back there, too. We’ll release them in the marsh, let them try to find their way out.”
The Wild Hair start moving, some rolling bikes toward Chain’s truck, others tying rope around the remaining Kins’ wrists.
Iron Jack stands beside me. “Goddamn, Little G. I knew you were an outlaw. But I think you’re a gangster.”
I still aim my gun at the retreating figures of Hoss and Anarchy. “I didn’t kill him. You wanted him dead.”
“Not with you here, I don’t. This is no place for a mother. That’s why we leave the women behind most of the time. Not that we don’t think they can handle it. But because they are the ones we can’t live without.”
Hoss and Anarchy disappear, and I lower the gun, then toss it on the ground.
“Two-Shit,” Iron Jack calls. “Clean Greta’s prints off that gun and put it in the arsenal.”
Two-Shit hurries forward to collect it.
My hands start to shake. I turn to Jack, then see that, in addition to the blood on his face, he’s holding his arm. Blood streams down to his hand. “You’re hurt!”
“It’s just a flesh wound,” he says. “I seem to get shot a lot with you around.”
I manage a laugh. “And I keep cleaning you up.”
The clearing fills with the sound of bikes, and the Wild Hair prep to leave.
Stoney rolls up on his bike. “You want my ride for you and your woman?”
Iron Jack claps him on the shoulder. “You did one hell of a job with the club today. You lead the victory ride. We’ll go in the truck with Chain.”
Fireworks erupt inside the clubhouse, then flames. Fancy runs out, whooping it up. “There will be nothing to come back to this time!”
“It won’t set the forest on fire, will it?” I ask Iron Jack.
“We’ll have someone stay and watch it burn. Make sure it’s contained.”
Stoney nods. “Adam, you hurt?” he calls.
“Nah,” Adam shouts.
“You and Two-Shit watch the burn. Make sure it doesn’t get the trees.”
Adam and Two-Shit hop on their bikes and ride to either side of the burning building.
Stoney removes his skullcap, rubs his hair, and sticks it on again. “Didn’t expect you to make it back so fast. ’Course, I knew you would. But we would have waited.”
“I had help.” He slides an arm around me. “Greta got us here. Me and Grey Beast.”
“Goddamn,” Stoney says. “She’s looking more like ol’ lady material every day.”
Iron Jack takes my hand. “She’d definitely be the most badass ol’ lady the Wild Hair has ever seen.”
More than his mother? My body flashes with a combination of emotion and shock. “I’m not sure about that.”
Merrick strides up. “What are you not sure about?”
Stoney aims his thumb at me. “Being the most outlaw ol’ lady in the club.”
“She’ll be doing none of that.” He takes my arm. “It’s time for you to get out of here.”
I jerk free. “I don’t think you have a say in that.”
“Sherman sent you here to spy, not walk in the path of a damn bullet. Now come on.” He reaches for me again.
I release Iron Jack and yank my knife out of the sheath a second time. “Unless you want Kin blood mixed with yours, you will keep your hands off me.”
The other Wild Hair nearby let out a collective “Dammmmn.”
“You need to propose to that woman right now,” Hoss says. “Because she’s the best thing to happen to the Wild Hair in a long time.”
Iron Jack fixes his gaze on mine. “Little G? What is it that you want? What future do you see for yourself now that you’ve been here and done this? Can you go back to Jersey? I’m here for whatever it is you think ought to happen.”
“Seconded,” Stoney says.
“Hell, yeah,” Hoss says.
There’s a whoop of agreement from the others, except Merrick, who stands with his arms crossed, scowling.
The thing is, I have no idea.