Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
AYDA
I’d always thought the sound of the cavalry showing up so quickly would make me feel better; that the familiar sound of those Harley’s pulling in behind us on any battlefield would be a comfort.
They’d managed to get here so quickly. So much faster than the last time we’d found ourselves in a precarious situation such as this one.
Only this time, I didn’t feel like I was about to be rescued.
I didn’t feel like we were out of trouble.
It didn’t take much to understand that Travis had not only expected this call for backup, but he’d planned for it, too. From the look on his face and the cackle of laughter, he’d actually fucking hoped for this to happen.
The crazed glint in the president of the Navarro Rifles eyes made him look scarily maniacal. Travis wasn’t looking at me right now, though. His eyes were on Drew. All of this was for an audience of one with the sole purpose of torturing Drew any way he could.
Slater and Jedd were the first to enter the warehouse.
Both of them had their guns raised, and their steps were cautious as they rounded the corner, waiting for the situation to present itself.
The moment the two of them saw the odd altar with Drew, Travis, Eric and me staged in front of it, they froze in place.
Neither one of them seemed sure what to do next, but it was too late, anyway.
Another four Navs stepped out from the shadows with their guns aimed true at our men’s heads.
So much for small numbers.
“I’m impressed,” Trigger spread out his hands like he was a leather-clad messiah and smirked. “Why don’t you take a seat and join us, boys? The party’s just getting started.”
With a glance at Drew, both Jedd and Slater stepped forward, remaining flanked by the armed Navs.
Deeks, Kenny, and Moose came next, already disarmed as they were followed by another four Navs who had assault rifles pointed at their backs.
I was pretty sure that there would be no more rescuers.
I figured they’d have left some of the guys back at The Hut to keep it safe.
But, before Travis could go on, another disturbance came through the back of the building, and two more Navs pushed Ben through with such force he lost his footing and hit his head against one of the rusted old machines at the back.
Ben hit the ground hard, a loud crack breaking the odd silence that I hadn’t realized had descended over us.
I tried to move to help him without thinking, but I was pulled back by the grip on my hand, my body brushing against Drew’s, while my eyes watched a slow, steady stream of blood pool around Ben’s head.
He groaned and rolled over onto his back, his eyes opening as he raised a weak hand to his temple.
Ben wasn’t dead, but he was no use to Drew now.
My movement seemed to attract Trigger’s attention, his upturned palms balling before releasing again.
He still didn’t think much of women from what I could remember of our last meeting.
His dark eyes assessed me coldly, disgust passing behind the soulless pits as his lip curled to reflect his distaste.
To Trigger Gatlin, I was merely a means to an end, a tool to be used against Drew.
The chill in his eyes made my stomach roll violently because it was at that moment that I truly understood what my part was in this little performance he was putting on.
Drew cared about a lot of things in his life, and he loved a lot of people, too.
Over the course of our relationship, however, he’d made it more than clear to his friends and enemies that I was important to him, and Trigger knew that to truly hurt Drew, to really get under his skin and wound him, he had to hurt me first.
I was expendable. His plan would be to torture me and kill me, then he would move on to Drew’s brothers, completely obliterating what was left of the club before killing him, too.
He wanted to hollow Drew out and send him into Hell with nothing but the dark, desperate memories that would stay with him in his damnation.
I couldn’t let that happen.
I wouldn’t let that happen.
Glancing up at the man next to me, the man I loved, I ignored the growl of Trigger Gatlin.
That silent communication we used so often and came so naturally made it easy for me to let him know I was ready for this fight, that I wasn’t going to cower, and I wasn’t going to risk our child either.
I was going to fight for our family, every last one of us, and I would fight for survival, even if I had to kill for it.
“Looks like we have the last of our witnesses,” Trigger mused with smug satisfaction, drawing my eyes to him. “Now, where was I?”
“How long have you had this planned, Trigger?” Drew asked. There was a steely coolness in Drew’s expression, his voice calm yet powerful.
Trigger turned to Eric, pointing up at him before he glanced over his shoulders to look at every Hound, including Drew.
“Does this look at all familiar to you?” He frowned.
“A recreation of anything, perhaps? Like you’re experiencing deja vu?
I can’t quite put my finger on where I’ve seen this before.
” Trigger ran his hand over his chin, his expression turning pensive.
This great act of his now in full flow before he brightened and dropped his hand to click his fingers together.
“Oh, that’s right.” He nodded slowly, moving closer to Drew until he was standing toe-to-toe with him.
“This reminds me of the live footage Chester Cortez streamed to me of you hanging in chains, blood oozing out of your fresh knife wounds. It reminds me of the way you swung helplessly in those chains, the rattling metal sending delicious shivers down my spine when I realized that you, the once great, formidable Drew Tucker, was about to die at the hands of the weaker enemy: those stupid, gun-happy, over-inflated egos we used to laugh at. The Emps.”
A few chuckles of rough laughter came from behind us, The Navarro Rifles men clearly enjoying their position of power.
“Tell me, Drew,” Trigger began, “how did it feel to know you were bested by those fools?”
“I’m still breathing, aren’t I?” Drew said through gritted teeth. “I’m flesh and bone. They’re nothing more than ash.”
“Hmm.” Trigger smiled. “So you are.”
I probably should have been shocked that Trigger had such an insight to our own personal nightmare, but the whole situation with Owen, and learning about how deep his betrayal ran, I wasn’t—not even close.
Drew shifted, leaning closer. “You want my flesh, Trigger? Come and fucking get it,” he ground out.
“But quit the dramatics. I’ve played enough games with enough pricks to last me a damn lifetime.
For once, I wish an enemy would have the balls to cut to the chase and get to the point.
This flair for wanting attention y’all are breeding is really starting to piss… me… off.”
Trigger’s face fell instantly, his eyes turning icy as he stared right into Drew’s.
“What. The fuck. Do you want?” Drew whispered coolly.
“Nothing you can provide me with can get you out of here, Drew,” Trigger answered, his voice as low and steely as Drew’s.
“You involved us when you buried that Emp on our turf. You disrespected our club when you acted out ghastly deeds wearing a fake tattoo of our patch on your skin. You put the target on your own back when your actions resulted in the death of one of my own—”
“Hove?” Drew laughed, making Travis and me flinch in surprise. “Jacob Hove is why I’m here? I don’t recall being the guy who put that bullet between his eyes. That was you.”
“Opinions vary.” Trigger smirked. “Few people know that. What would our families think?” He sighed softly.
“They’d probably wish it was you who took the fall, not him. I’m sure their lives would be richer without—”
Travis struck out, the gut punch he planted in Drew’s stomach so fast, it had almost been impossible to see. Drew’s groan was deep as he bent forward, curling himself into the left where Travis had landed a hit on him.
The satisfied look on Trigger’s face was despicable and made my anger rise. It felt like my insides were too hot to contain.
“Does the truth hurt, Travis? Do you forget how well I know your mom?” I smiled cruelly.
“You know, she hated the way Jacob was always seeking your approval. She said it would only get him into trouble one day. I don’t think that it would surprise her to learn that you shot him in the face point blank to prove a point. ”
Travis didn’t try and hit me as I’d expected him to. Instead, his hand grabbed my chin roughly, angling my face, so the spit from his forced words laced my cheek. “My mom thought you were a fucking cunt. I say it takes one to know one, right?”
I smiled at him. “Mommy issues?” I asked, trying not to make a sound to alert Drew that Travis was squeezing harder.
A familiar roar of anger was set free, and before Travis could offer any retort, Drew had moved, grabbing hold of Trigger’s neck with every ounce of strength he had.
His face was twisted with rage, veins popping in his head as he growled and tore Trigger from me, throwing himself on top of him, sending Travis to the ground with such force, his head was the first point of contact, connecting with the edge of the raised platform that Eric was swinging upon.
“Don’t you fucking touch her,” Drew spat, using all his power and might to pull himself back just enough to swing his arm up and back down onto Trigger’s jaw.
Drew had been quick—his reaction had been faster than any of Trigger’s men had been expecting, so it took a moment for them to catch up. All of their guns moved from The Hounds to Drew, and the Nav closest to us pushed the barrel of his 9mm to the back of Drew’s skull and made him freeze.
“Now that’s the Drew Tucker we all know and hate,” Trigger grumbled, spitting blood from his mouth and smirking. He glanced up at me and back at Drew with a smirk that was too calm. “Every time you throw your fists around, I will give your bitch a new scar to take to Hell with her.”
Drew closed his eyes, his breaths ragged as his whole body sagged.
Trigger rose, his body stumbling to the side, which only made his sadistic laughter grow as he wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Hell of a good fighter, though. That could work in your favor today.” Trigger tugged on his cut to straighten it down, his chest rising as he pulled in a breath of air and surveyed everyone within the warehouse with a terrifying amount of control.
It was only then that I allowed myself to listen to everything else going on around us.
I could hear the grumblings of every man I’d ever shared The Hut with—their growls and fights quieter than Drew’s had been.
When I turned to look back at them, each one was being held by two or three men, their arms pinned behind them as their fight became weaker.
“Contrary to popular belief, I’m not a total bastard,” Trigger said smoothly, pulling my attention back to his smug face.
His eyes were zoned in on mine, focused.
“I do believe some people are entitled to a happy ever after, don’t you, Ayda?
Good people. They deserve the chance to fight for their fairytale ending. ”
There was no answer I could give him that would satisfy his sick need to gain the upper hand and use us as puppets in this little production he’d organized. His smug smile only grew as I glared at him.
“Come on, it’s a simple question.” He reached out to touch me, and the growls that spread around the place just made his humor more evident, even as I swatted his hand away.
He leaned closer, dropping his voice to a whisper.
“Shall I let Drew fight for yours, Ayda? Shall I let them all fight for your happiness? Let some of them die so you get to live your dream?”
“No.” If he thought for a second that I was willing to sacrifice even one of these men for my life… he was wrong. So very wrong.