Chapter 5 - Reckless
I'm fucking ready to destroy everyone that comes through that door. The thought settles in my bones like truth. Like gravity. Like something I was built for.
Nora's hand is small in mine. Shaking. Her pulse is pounding so hard I can feel it through her skin. She's terrified and trying not to show it, and something about that, the way she's holding herself together with sheer will, makes the buzzing in my ear go completely silent.
Crystal clear focus.
This is what I'm good at. Not gentleness. Not cooking dinner or making small talk. Violence. Protection. Standing between danger and the people who can't fight it themselves.
"How many bullets do you have?" Nora whispers.
I look at her. "What?"
"You… You must have a gun. Right? For situations like this?"
"I don't own a gun."
Her eyes go wide. "You don't… How are you going to—"
"Don't need one." I pull her toward the bedroom. Away from the front door. Away from the first place they'll breach if they figure out which unit we're in. "I've got other options."
"Other options? Marcus, there are twelve of them!"
"Thirteen," I correct, because I counted. "Saw thirteen get out of the vehicles."
"That's worse! That's so much worse!"
Footsteps on the stairs. Getting closer. Voices filtering up, too muffled to make out words but the tone is clear. Military precision. These aren't street thugs. They're trained.
Good.
Makes it more interesting.
I position Nora against the far wall of the bedroom. Away from the door, away from the window. The safest corner in a situation with no safe options.
"Stay here." I keep my voice low. "Don't move unless I tell you to."
"What are you going to do?"
"Whatever needs doing."
I move toward the closet. Open it. There's a baseball bat in the back, aluminum, weighted. My brother's from when he played in high school. I grab it, test the weight.
Perfect.
Nora's staring at the bat. "You're going to fight thirteen armed men with a baseball bat."
"If I have to." I listen to the footsteps. They've reached the third floor. "Depends on how smart they are."
"This is insane. You're insane. We should hide. We should—"
"They'll find us if we hide. Better to control when and where the fight happens." I look at her directly. "I need you to trust me, Nora. Can you do that?"
She's shaking her head but she says, "Yes."
Good enough.
Voices in the hallway now. Closer. Right outside.
"Unit 3A," someone says. Male. Authority in his voice. "She's in 3A. Stack up."
They're going to breach her apartment. Good. Buys us time.
I hear the crash of a door being kicked in. Nora flinches. I count seconds in my head. They'll clear her apartment fast—one bedroom, small space, nowhere to hide. Thirty seconds. Maybe forty.
"She's not here," a different voice calls out. "Place is empty."
"Check everywhere. She might be hiding."
More sounds of destruction. Furniture being moved. Closet doors slamming open.
"Nothing. She's gone."
Silence for a moment. Then—
"Check the other units. She's in this building somewhere."
Fuck.
They're going door to door. And there are only twelve units on this floor. Won't take long to get to mine.
My phone buzzes. Text from Rampage.
**Five minutes out. Hold tight.**
Five minutes. That's an eternity when men with guns are outside your door.
I text back: **Ready**
Because I am. Every muscle in my body is coiled. Ready. The part of me that came back from war broken has finally found something it knows how to do.
Protect.
"Marcus." Nora's voice is barely a whisper. "They're going to find us."
"Yeah."
"You can't fight all of them."
"Probably not."
"Then what—"
"I don't have to win, Nora. I just have to keep them busy until help arrives." I move to the bedroom doorway. Position myself where I can see the front door. "Five minutes. I can make five minutes last a lifetime if I have to."
"You'll get hurt."
The concern in her voice does something to me, but I don’t have the time to overthink.
"I'll be fine." Probably a lie. But a useful one.
Footsteps outside my door now. A pause. Then knocking.
Hard. Authoritative.
"Open up. Building security check."
I almost laugh. Building security. In Blackwater Falls. At two in the fucking morning.
They must think I'm stupid.
"Not interested," I call back. Calm. Conversational. "Try next door."
Silence. Then more knocking. Harder.
"Sir, we need to check all units. There's been a break-in."
"Call the cops then." I grip the bat. Test my stance. "I'm trying to sleep."
I can hear them conferring. Low voices. Then—
"We're coming in."
"Door's locked," I point out.
"Won't be for long."
There's a crash. They're not even pretending anymore. Just trying to break through.
Good. Anger makes people sloppy.
"Nora." I don't turn around. Keep my eyes on the door. "When this starts, you stay in that corner. Don't move. Don't make a sound. No matter what you see or hear. Understand?"
"Marcus—"
"Do you understand?"
"Yes." Her voice breaks. "Yes, I understand."
The door splinters. Once. Twice. They're using something heavy, probably a battering ram.
Three more hits and the lock gives.
The door slams open.
Four men pile through. Tactical gear. Pistols drawn. Professionals. They see me immediately. Standing in the bedroom doorway with a baseball bat like I'm about to play the world's most violent game.
"Where's the girl?" A guy with a buzz cut asks.
"What girl?"
"Don't play games. Nora Hayes. Where is she?"
"Never heard of her."
Buzz Cut smiles. It doesn't reach his eyes. "You're outnumbered. Outgunned. I've got nine more men in this building and three more outside. You really want to die for some woman you just met?"
"Die?" I shift my weight. "Nobody said anything about dying."
"Then put down the bat and tell us where she is. We take her, we leave, you never hear from us again."
Tempting. If I was someone else. Someone who didn't come back from war with pieces missing. Someone who could walk away from a terrified woman hiding in the next room.
But I'm not someone else.
"Counterproposal," I say. "You leave. Now. Walk out that door and don't come back. And I don't break every bone in your body before my friends arrive."
Buzz Cut laughs. Actually laughs. "Your friends?"
"Savage Riders MC. They'll be here in—" I check my mental clock, "—three and a half minutes. You want to be here when they show up?"
That gets a reaction. Buzz Cut's smile falters. The men behind him shift.
They've heard of the Riders. Good.
"You're bluffing," Buzz Cut says. But he doesn't sound certain.
"Am I?"
We stare at each other. Him with his gun. Me with my bat. Two men who know violence intimately, deciding if this is worth it.
Then I hear it. Engines. Distant but getting closer. The deep rumble of motorcycles. A lot of them. Buzz Cut hears it too. His jaw tightens.
"Last chance," I tell him. "Leave or stay. But choose fast."
He chooses.
"Get her," he snaps to his men.
They move.
I move faster.
The bat catches the first one in the ribs. I don't hold back. Don't pull the swing. Full force, full commitment. Something cracks, bone or equipment, doesn't matter. He goes down hard.
The second one is smarter. Tries to grab the bat instead of me. I let him. Use his momentum against him. Yank him forward and drive my knee into his face. Cartilage crumples. Blood spray. He drops.
Two down.
The third one gets his gun up. Aims at me.
I'm already moving. Close the distance before he can fire. Grab his wrist, force the weapon toward the ceiling. It goes off, deafening in the enclosed space. Plaster rains down. I headbutt him. His nose explodes. I take the gun before he hits the ground.
Three down.
Buzz Cut is backing up. Shouting into a radio. "We need backup up here! Now!"
The engines are louder now. Right outside.
I point the gun at Buzz Cut. "Your backup or mine. Wonder who'll get here first."
He runs.
Actually turns and runs. Shoulder-checks the doorframe on his way out.
His remaining men scramble after him. I don't follow.
Don't need to. Because I can hear them now.
Boots on stairs. Lots of them. Coming up fast. And motorcycles outside.
Killing their engines. Doors slamming. The Riders are here.
I lower the gun. Turn toward the bedroom.
Nora's standing in the doorway. White as a sheet. Staring at the three men on my floor. At the blood. At me.
"You—" She can't finish the sentence.
"Told you I'd be fine." I'm breathing hard but I'm not hurt. Don't feel hurt anyway. Could be bleeding and wouldn't know it yet. "You okay?"
She nods. Doesn't look okay.
Heavy footsteps in the hallway. I move in front of Nora automatically. Position myself between her and whatever's coming. But it's not Castellano's men.
It's Rampage.
Six-foot-three and built like a truck. He takes in the scene. Broken door, three men down, me holding a gun.
"Reckless." He uses my pit name. "The fuck happened here?"
"Castellano's men. Thirteen of them. These three tried to get to Nora." I gesture with the gun. "The rest ran when they heard your bikes."
"They're running now." Rampage's voice is flat. Deadly. "Riders are chasing them down. They won't make it far."
More men file in behind him. Savage Riders MC patches on their cuts. Hard faces. Harder eyes. Men who make violence look easy.
One of them, Chaos, whistles at the three on my floor. "Damn, Reckless. You didn't even need us."
"Always need backup." I hand the gun to one of them, Tank, the VP. "This one's evidence. Probably traceable."
He takes it. Looks at Nora. "You the girl?"
"I—yes. I'm Nora Hayes."
"You hurt?"
"No. Marcus kept me safe."
"Good." He turns to his men. "Clean this up. Get these three somewhere they can talk. I want to know everything about Castellano. Where he is, how many men he has, what he wants."
"What about the ones that ran?" someone asks.
"Find them. All of them." Tank's voice goes cold. "Nobody hunts in Blackwater Falls without our permission. Time to remind people of that."
The Riders drag the unconscious men out. Securing the hallway. Turning my apartment into a command center in under two minutes. Rampage stays. Looks at Nora again.
"You're under the Riders' protection now. That means Castellano's men can't touch you without going through us or them. Understand?"
Nora nods. Still pale. Still shaking.
"Good." He looks at me. "Take her somewhere safe. Lay low until we handle this."
"Where?"
"The Pit. Private room in the back." He hands me keys. "Take my truck. Yours is too recognizable."
I take the keys. "Thanks, brother."
"Thank me by keeping her alive." He clasps my shoulder. Hard. "And by being ready to fight if this goes wrong. Might need the Reckless I've seen in the pit before this is over."
"I'm always ready."
He knows. We both know.
He leaves with the Savage Riders. The apartment empties as fast as it filled, leaving just me and Nora in the wreckage. She's staring at the blood on the floor. "You hurt three men in under a minute."
"Had to."
"You didn't even hesitate."
"No."
"You're—" She looks at me. "You're not like anyone I've ever met."
"Good thing or bad thing?"
"I don't know yet." She wraps her arms around herself. "But I'm alive because of it. So, thank you. Again."
I cross the distance between us. Stop a foot away. Close enough to matter.
"Stop thanking me." My voice comes out rougher than I mean it to. "And grab your things. We're leaving."
"Where are we going?"
"The Iron Pit." I look at the broken door. The blood. "Only safe place left."
She doesn't argue.
Smart girl.
We're going to need smart to survive what's coming.