39. Kevlar
Kevlar
Having allies in the criminal world was worth their weight in gold.
Kevlar wasn’t above exploiting his sisters to gain such things.
The Dixie Mafia wasn’t the largest organization in the area, nor were they the most powerful, but they held the best reputation for honoring their word.
Which meant they had deals with just about everyone.
As of his arrival, Kevlar was included.
Right now, he needed them.
He didn’t have the manpower to take on the Bloody Scorpions, but he couldn’t wait. They got there first and had a little jump on him. Which meant even if he recruited his ass off, they would still outnumber him. He had to call in reinforcements.
The Royal Bastards were too far away, so he shipped in someone local. The Dixie Dicks were the winners.
And did they deliver.
While the plan wasn’t the best and absolutely impulsive, their hands were forced. If Kevlar rolled over tonight, his club would end before it even started. The Scorpions stepped over the line not only by attacking Remi’s business but by stealing his woman.
With the mafia men milling about the parking lot of the former convalescent home, Kevlar and his men rounded the building, clad in bulletproof vests, biker helmets, and armed as if they were going to war.
They were.
The directive? Eliminate every Bloody Scorpion they saw. No one got out alive. Paul’s men were in charge of the front entrance. Kevlar and his brothers would go in through the back and force them out.
Ideally, only a few innocents would get caught in the crossfire. Though, to be fair, if they were partying with Scorpions, could anyone really be considered not guilty? Not in Kevlar’s book.
“Everyone’s in place,” Kid said as he approached Kevlar’s side. “You sure you want to do this?”
Kevlar nodded. If he intended to hold his head up in this town, he had no choice. There was no way he could let everything that had happened slide. This was his territory. No other clubs could set up shop on his turf. They had to take out the trash.
“Waiting on your signal,” Kid announced, handing him the burner phone connected to the men in front of the building.
When Kevlar gave the word, the Dixie men would handle the bouncer and anyone else at the door. Lionel would cut the power. Then the game was on.
“Let’s go,” Kevlar declared into the cell before he dropped and stomped on it. It served its purpose. He didn’t need to hold on to it.
Locked and loaded with AR-15s, he and his brothers charged toward the rear doors of the convalescent home turned clubhouse. The booms of gunfire at the front filled the night, and as expected, panicked people opened the rear entrance and poured out.
These would be the supposed innocent bystanders. If the Bloody Scorpions weren’t complete pantywaists, they would stay and defend their club. The more hangers-on that got out of the way, the better. He only had so many bullets on him and didn’t want to waste them on people who meant nothing.
Once inside the large event space, Kevlar crouched beside a small stage, somewhat out of sight. He scanned the room. Screaming guests ran frantically around him. At a pool table, he spotted several vests and took aim, squeezing the trigger.
When the first Scorpion got hit, he flailed and fell. Now Kevlar had a clear line of sight and spotted the naked woman. Was it Kelsey? His heart froze, and his vision tinged red. Pointing the muzzle at the head of the man plowing her from behind, he narrowed his eyes.
No.
Brunette. Kelsey was his blond goddess.
He squeezed the trigger. Blood sprayed everywhere as his victim fell back.
The woman collapsed onto the table.
People kept blocking his view. How many fucking assholes were at this party?
Proceeding deeper into the building, he moved past his brothers wrestling their enemies.
Torch took a punch to the gut. Kevlar pulled a blade from a sheath on his belt and jabbed it into the side of the Scorpion, pinning his man.
After he gave it a twist, he yanked it out. Like a geyser, blood spurted everywhere.
Arms wrapped around his middle. A shoulder drove into his side.
Oof.
Knocked off-balance, Kevlar took a moment to realize he’d just been speared. The blade flew from his hand, but the gun remained.
He didn’t have time for this bullshit. He had to find Kelsey.
Thankfully, wearing a full biker helmet and a bulletproof vest meant that he wasn’t easily pummeled. His attacker might have gotten the jump on him, but Kevlar was smarter. After some tussling and grappling, he had the upper hand.
Jamming the gun under the man’s chin, Kevlar fired.
Blood covered his visor.
He climbed off his victim more determined than before and searched the much thinner crowd. All that remained were six Bloody Scorpions, the woman passed out on the pool table, Royal Bastards, and the mafia men.
Where the fuck was Kelsey?
Crack.
Pain ricocheted through his back as a thick pole slammed against him. Reflexively, Kevlar arched and turned toward his attacker.
With a wild look in his eye, Yogi tossed the pool cue to the side and yanked a large bowie knife from a sheath.
“You fucked up badly,” the Bloody Scorpion taunted through clenched teeth as he lunged forward.
Lifting the gun, Kevlar pulled the trigger.
Click. Click. Click.
Dammit.
Barely able to duck out of the way, the blade sliced into his shoulder, then Yogi’s full weight fell upon him, and the breath was knocked from his lungs. The two of them landed on the hard cement floor with a thud. Kevlar’s head bounced off the ground. Thankfully, he had a helmet.
Gasping for breath and struggling beneath the heavy biker, Kevlar tossed his useless gun away and scrambled to get access to another blade.
Yogi swung his arm wide and aimed for Kevlar. Fiery pain shot through his side as Yogi stabbed him again.
His life couldn’t end like this.
Kevlar barely had a chance. He couldn’t fail this quickly. Not to the Bloody Scorpions. Not on his home turf.
When Yogi twisted the blade, he undid the clasp of the helmet with his free hand. “I want to see your face when I put a bullet between your eyes.”
Despite squirming and bucking, Kevlar didn’t have the strength to get Yogi off him. Each movement drove the blade farther into him. He had to be bleeding pretty fucking bad to be this woozy this quickly.
Yogi roughly yanked the helmet from his head with ease. Kevlar was exposed. The fight was over. He’d lost. At least he went down swinging.
A woman’s bloodcurdling scream tore through his ears.
Whack.
The cue stick Yogi had abandoned swung through the air and slammed against Yogi’s head. Knocking him off-balance, he flew to the side. Immediately, the weight crushing Kevlar was gone.
He could breathe—barely. With a knife in his side, he struggled to fill his lungs, but he couldn’t yank the blade out. Not yet. Reaching behind him, he retrieved a Glock from its holster as he watched the pool stick come down again and again, hitting Yogi over and over.
Slightly dizzy, Kevlar sat up, aimed, and pulled the trigger.
Turning his attention away from Yogi, Kevlar eyed the person who had saved his life.
Everything was right in the world. Disheveled as she was, she was alive.
Whatever had happened to her could be dealt with later.
For now, all he cared about was the fact that these brutal incompetent fucks hadn’t robbed her from him.
“Kitten.” He grinned.
“Kev!” She dropped to her knees beside him and wrapped her arms around him.
They had little time. They had to flee the scene of chaos. While not directly in the middle of town, they weren’t all that far off the beaten path, so the cops would show up rather quickly. With so many civilians in attendance, someone had to have called. The law couldn’t ignore this kind of thing.
However, he wasn’t about to leave until he settled one last thing.
Reluctantly, he released Kelsey and scooted himself closer to the unconscious Yogi beside him. The holster at his waist was empty.
“Shit,” Kevlar hissed before he dragged himself lower.
One more place to check.
“What are you doing?” Kelsey asked him.
He ignored her. She didn’t want to know. Running his hand along Yogi’s leg, Kevlar found what he was searched for at his ankle.
Lifting the man’s jeans, he uncovered a revolver.
“Kev.” Fear made her voice shake.
“Look away,” he said sternly. “You don’t want to see this.”
Kevlar sat up as best he could, aimed, and emptied the gun into Yogi. With each shot, Kelsey yelped. He told her not to watch.
Tossing the gun, he let out a heavy sigh. He’d done what he came there to do. They’d put this beef to bed.
“We have to leave,” he said, extending his hand for her aid.
He struggled to get to his feet with her assistance.
“Not without Carrie,” she insisted.
“Kid,” Kevlar shouted. “Torch. We’re out.”
Torch, blood dripping down his face, appeared at his side. His gaze skimmed over the two of them, and he nodded.
“Wait!” Kelsey dug her heels in, making it hard to move her considering Kevlar’s injuries. She pointed to the woman on the pool table. “We can’t abandon Carrie.”
Kevlar didn’t give a fuck about this Carrie person, but since Kelsey did, he nodded. “Kid!”
His tattooed brother, whose left eye was swollen shut, appeared from behind him. “Yeah?”
Using his gun, Kevlar pointed to the passed-out woman. “Get her and get out.”