Willow #4
The staircase shook at the last step. Their massive bodies stomped on the wooden stairs as they tried to file in.
As I jumped off the last step, I fired a single shot at the gas can.
Liquid quickly escaped from the entrance and exit holes.
When I got to the door at the other end of the basement, I turned.
The bald man that led the parade of furious men towards me snarled when his foot splashed in a puddle of gasoline.
At the splash, he looked down. Shock registered on his face as he looked back up.
I gave him a knowing smile as I stepped out of the door and lifted the gun.
Not to his head, but to the concrete floor of the basement and shot.
I knew the spark caught because as I closed the door, I heard the whoosh of flames sucking in oxygen, followed by the screams.
It was a beautiful sound, but I didn’t have a chance to appreciate it.
I locked the door of the basement. Just as the click of the lock engaged, a large bang shook the door.
Probably Baldy trying to brute force his way through.
“Burn in hell, bitch!” I yelled through the door, then turned and started sprinting to the front of the building.
Two guys were looking through the open door, probably trying to see what the screaming was about.
They were distracted, so I shot one as I ran up, hitting him in the neck. Blood peppered the deck in a beautiful shade of crimson. Yes, artery shot! I aimed towards the man standing next to him. Click.
Shit, it’s empty. The second guy started to grab for his gun.
I was close enough and had some good momentum from the sprinting.
Dropping the gun, I pulled a knife from my pocket and jumped at him, wrapping my legs around his hips and shoving the knife into his eyeball.
We both started to fall, but I landed on my feet, nearly tripping over his buddy’s body.
He gripped his eye, screaming like a little bitch.
I kicked behind his knee while shoving him forward through the front door before closing it.
I pulled the lock and chain I’d taken from the inside of the basement off my belt, securing it and everyone in the house.
I watched my handiwork. They had no external windows, probably thinking it’d be more secure. People angrily pounded on the door as I walked over to the body. They were smoking, so I knew one of them had a lighter. I found a fancy zippo one in the neck target’s pocket.
I flicked it and watched the flame dance. Turning from the door, ignoring the screams, I tossed it to the side. Heat hit my back as the flames took root on the deck and walls. The screaming inside morphed quickly from anger to sheer panic.
When I spread the gasoline around the bikes in the parking lot, I’d left a van dry. I decided on the van in case Jaz needed to lie down. I could tell that she was hurting.
I hotwired the van, using one of the “life lessons” that the soldiers taught my brothers and I, that we swore to never tell Mom about—they were all ex-military, but they knew not to cross her. I got it started as the fire really started going, and the bikes began to go up in flames.
I was hoping for more explosions than a slow burn, but I guess that worked, too.
I was patting myself on the back for leaving an extra gas can in front of all four of the exits, just in case they could get out somehow.
I pulled the van close to the trees where I left Jaz, got out, and helped her into the back.
She argued that I’m not old enough to drive, and she should.
I just responded by getting in the front seat and mumbling, “Yup, because murder and arson are age-appropriate activities. Wouldn’t want to push it… ”
She let it go as I floored it, crashing through the gate, leaving the hellhole behind. I wanted to find a doctor for her, but she begged me to bring her to her husband. Reluctantly, I caved and allowed her to give me directions.
We ended up at another MC clubhouse, which I was not happy about. When the guy at the gate saw her in the back seat, he let us in. She explained what happened, and I filled in the parts that she wasn’t there for. They were a little in shock for a few minutes.
They snapped out of it when Jaz demanded that they call my parents to let them know that I was safe.
I could tell they didn’t want to have random people there, but I guessed they were more afraid of an angry, pregnant lady, because after a minute of half-hearted arguing about it, they did what she said.
After my parents got there, we went over the entire thing again, which had my mom losing her mind and my dad listening quietly with a weird mix of rage and pride on his face.
They took me home, and Jaz called to check on me every day. Well, at least until after her baby was born and she couldn’t call as often. She’d still have Mark or one of the brothers send me a periodic text to check in.
Over time, they became part of our family. Not just Aunt Jaz and Uncle Mark, but their entire chapter.
I snap out of my thoughts as a smaller body crashes into mine from behind, skinny arms wrapping around my waist and holding onto me as tight as they can. The movement scares the shit out of me, but when I realize who it is, my heart rate returns back to normal.
I smile down at the arms and say, “Just in time to help me with another batch of cookies, since a bunch of idiots ate the first one.”
“I tried to stop them, but they were too big!” Sophia says in a furious tone as she releases me from her hug.
I turn around to find her glaring at Ben.
He meets her eye contact, lifts his eyebrow in challenge, and stuffs the last cookie in his mouth.
Sophia squares her shoulders and stomps towards him.
“Let’s just make more with Will before dinner. We’re leaving later tonight, and we can have some girl time,” Aunt Jaz says in her soothing, raspy voice as she wraps her arm around Sophia, pulling her against her body before she can make it over to Ben.
Looking at me over the head of her daughter, she smiles, but I can see concern peeking through her eyes.
I know she’s been worried about my family since we lost Mom and moved away.
She still calls and texts me every day to check in.
But over the years, she’d become Mom’s best friend, and wants to make sure that we are okay while grieving.
I look down at my goddaughter and smile.
She’s been my shadow since they arrived for Mom’s memorial, and my chest hurts just thinking about her leaving again.
I’ve seen her a few times a week since the day she was born, and I hate the fact that I’m states away from her now.
“That sounds like a plan to me. I need some girl time before I’m left with the idiots again! ”