Chapter 16
AERIANNA
Holy shit.
I’m going to war with a bunch of bikers.
The tension in the room is thick, a live wire sparking between us as we prepare to leave. Zach steps out to his SUV and returns with my backpack, the one loaded with my weapons. I unzip it and pull out my Glock 17, checking the clip before sliding it back into place. The familiar weight settles into the holster I strapped to my jeans. Then, I reach for my favorite, my Glock 22, and secure it at my hip.
I’m not done. Sliding throwing stars onto my belt, I slip a knife into my boot, my movements practiced and precise. My fingers graze at the cool steel of another blade, but before I can grab it, I feel eyes on me.
Lifting my gaze, I find Trigger watching me, his expression is a mix of something dark and primal. His blue eyes flicker with amusement, curiosity, and desire.
I shrug. “A girl can’t be too prepared.”
His lips curve into a smirk, and in the next second, he’s in my space, crowding me with his body. Sparks ignite under my skin, my breath catching at his proximity.
“I never thought I’d say this,” he murmurs, his voice thick, “but watching you arm yourself is fucking hot.” Before I can respond, his lips crash against mine in a rough, searing kiss. It’s quick but potent, leaving my head spinning as he steps back. He turns to load himself up, checking his weapons and sliding blades into hidden places.
I watch, heat curling low in my belly. I smirk, leaning in close to his ear. “That’s hot too, Carter.” My voice is barely a whisper. “Once this is over, I’ll enjoy unstrapping you.”
His jaw ticks, and when he turns to face me, there’s pure, raw hunger in his gaze. “Careful, Little Kitten.” He adjusts himself, still not breaking eye contact. “Your purr is causing my dick issues.” His voice drops an octave, rough with lust. “And I might not be so nice once this is over.”
Heat pools between my legs, causing a shiver to run through my body. Damn, all he has to do is look at me, and I’m all hot and bothered.
Before either of us can act on the tension crackling between us, a bald, tattooed biker approaches, his mischievous light-blue eyes gleaming as he crosses his arms over his chest. His patch reads Torch. “Aww, our little Trigger is growing up. Who thought we’d see the day?” He grins like an asshole.
A blonde woman beside him smacks him hard. Daisy, Torch’s Ol’ Lady. Torch releases an oof, rubbing his chest.
“Torch, knock it off.” She scolds playfully. Daisy turns her attention toward me, concern in her eyes. “Be safe out there, please.”
I swallow a lump in my throat. It’s been a while since anyone has said kind words to me. “I will, thank you, Daisy.”
She doesn’t hesitate, she just throws her arms around my neck, hugging me tight. I stand frozen before slowly wrapping my arms around her.
“It’s what family is for,” she murmurs.
I glance around the room, and the weight of her words sinks in. She’s right.
Trigger’s brothers, his family, are preparing for war because Trigger needs them. Not one of them hesitates. Not a single one. The women rush around, making sure their men have everything they need. There’s a quiet efficiency to it, a rhythm that only comes from deep loyalty.
They don’t just ride together.
They live together. They fight together.
They die together.
They’re in this together.
A thought hits me. Where are the kids?
“Where are the kids?” I ask.
Danyella, Capone’s Ol’ Lady, answers. “Syvannah and Exleigh have them at my house.”
The names catch me off guard. “Who’s that?”
I don’t mean to sound defensive, but I do. My mind instantly jumps to other women Trigger might have had in his bed.
Trigger must read my thoughts because he wraps his arm around my shoulders, squeezing gently. “Relax, Little Kitten, put those claws away.” His tone is amused. “Syvannah and Exleigh are two young women we rescued from Josiah and Lattimer when they kidnapped Red’s Ol’ lady, Nadia.”
My stomach twists at the mention of those bastards. I push the grief down from losing my best friend to them.
“They were just girls,” Monica adds, her voice carrying a weight of pain. “Nadia protected them the best she could, but Josiah…” She swallows hard. “He still abused them.” My heart clenches. “So, they decided to come here and recover. Learn to start over and deal with what happened to them.”
My heart hurts thinking about what they went through. “How are they coping?”
“One day at a time,” Tiny steps forward. “That’s all we can ask for is one day at a time with them.”
Is the whole Club listening to our conversation? I look around, and sure enough, everyone is gathered around us. Capone stands with his arm draped over Danyella. Blayze holds Monica close. Torch keeps Daisy tucked under his arm. Derange has Jezebelle in his grasp. Bones, Pretty Playboy, Tiny, Dagger, Knight, and a couple I haven’t met yet. Even Zach, who’s standing beside an older woman, their hands brushing every few moments.
Everyone is here. Armed. Ready. United.
The only ones missing are Aftermath, Red, Kensi, and Nadia.
Then, Capone steps forward. His presence demands attention. The room falls silent.
“Here’s what’s going down.” Capone’s voice is sharp, no-nonsense.
“Everyone but Bones and Dagger are rolling out.” His gaze sweeps the room. “You two stay behind with the women and kids. Once we’re gone, bring them back here. Keep them safe.”
He turns to three Prospects. “Prospects, this is an important job tonight. Seth, Knight, and Jax, you three will follow us in the van. Keep all eyes off us the best you can. You complete this without issues, and you are closer to earning your rockers.”
Trigger straightens beside me. “Zach, Tiny, Aerianna, and I will take the lead at Georgia’s house.”
Capone nods. “Blayze, Torch, and Derange, secure the back. Pretty Playboy and Jax, you’re on one side. Seth and Knight, you’re on the other. Keep the van ready. The second we have Elise, we’re out.”
The air in the room tightens.
Capone’s voice lowers. “No fuck-ups tonight.” His tone is lethal. “We end these motherfuckers quietly and efficiently. We get Elise home.”
He takes a step forward, his eyes deadly serious. “Are you ready?” A chorus of “Aye” rings out. My pulse pounds in my ears. This isn’t just a mission. This is a rescue. This is a war.
Capone lifts two fingers. “Let’s roll.”
We arrive in Georgia’s neighborhood and park the bikes along with Zach’s SUV two streets over. Instead of me riding with Trigger, I opted to ride with Zach. Trigger doesn’t need my distraction when we’re heading into a bloodbath.
The dead of night blankets the neighborhood, not a soul in sight. Capone leads the way across the empty street, avoiding the street lamps. The way these guys move is efficient and methodical, like they’ve done this a thousand times.
The area we’re in isn’t known for being the best neighborhood. This isn’t the best part of town. Cars sit on cinder blocks in driveways, weeds choke out wilted grass, and garbage litters the sidewalks. Boarded-up houses display gang symbols in bold, defiant colors. We’re definitely not in Kansas anymore.
Trigger’s hand encloses around mine, offering me support and comfort. I squeeze his hand in return, welcoming the warm embrace.
And then it hits me. An epiphany that shakes me to my core. If things work out between Trigger and me, I want this. I want to be by his side, hunting down the monsters who sell women and children into the Black Market Railroad.
Fuck the badge in my pocket. If it means keeping Trigger with me, I’d give it up in a heartbeat.
Zach steps up beside me, an unanswered question hanging between us. He knows what I will do and how far I’d go to keep Trigger in my life. Sadness etches in his blue-green eyes, but he understands. There was a time when he left it all behind, too, to try and save his daughter, Kensi. Only he was too late. Kensi was already taken and exposed to the trauma of the Black Market Railroad. Luckily for her, The Royal Bastards saved her from being sold, and Zach will forever be in their debt for it.
Zach squeezes my shoulder in silent support and understanding. He steps back and allows us to get into our spots.
Bass booms from inside the house, drowning out our words. The lights are on, but no movement flickers behind the curtains. Doesn’t mean no one’s inside.
My nerves are on edge.
Bones approaches Capone with a tablet in hand. “Prez, Elise is in there, and you’re not going to believe who else.”
He turns the tablet around so we can watch a video of Jonas and another man I don’t recognize dragging Elise into the house in the middle of the night. A woman with long brown hair piled on top of her head is in front of them and opens the door, that must be Georgia. She’s very attractive in a slutty way. I can see why the single guys kept her around the Clubhouse.
Capone clenches his fists. “Motherfucker. I want that rapist alive.”
“Who is it?” I ask.
Trigger’s voice is as hard as steel. “Lattimer. The bastard who beat the shit out of Aftermath’s mom, Silver Grace, stabbed Kensi and left her for dead, and kidnapped Nadia to sell to the Black Market Railroad.”
My stomach drops. “Wait, I thought Josiah Mercer was in charge of the Black Market Railroad.”
Trigger shakes his head. “Josiah was Lattimer’s henchman.”
Everything I thought I knew shifts. Have I been looking at this all wrong? Chasing the wrong man all this time? Was it Lattimer who killed Allison?
Zach sees the storm in my eyes. “We’ll get answers, Aerianna. I promise.”
I turn to Capone. “Can I speak to you privately?” He nods his head, and we step away from the others. “I want a crack at this Lattimer guy before you guys do what you do with him.”
Capone lights up a cigarette and inhales the smoke. “Why?”
“I have my reasons. Ones that I will tell you once this is over.” I promise. I need answers about Allison’s death, and this is the best way to get them.
He exhales smoke, considering my request. “Fine.” Capone agrees, taking another drag, and points two fingers at me. “But you will tell me the entire truth, Aerianna, and not hold anything back.”
“Fine.” I agree but hesitate. “But Trigger needs to know too.”
Capone smirks like he expected that. “I figured as much.” He puts his cigarette out and pockets the butt. He’s not happy, but I’m glad he agrees.
We walk back over, and Trigger gives me a questioning look.
“I’ll explain later,” I promise.
That is enough to satisfy him for now. Once everyone is in place, Trigger steps up to the front door. I draw my weapon, and everyone else follows. “On the count of three. One. Two. Three.”
Trigger picks the lock, and we enter, sweeping the room. Derange, Torch, and Tiny follow, coming in the back door. Shots ring out as two figures approach us from the hallway. Their bodies fall like dominos. Round after round, we fire and take fire until no one else comes from the back.
Once the gunfire settles, I take in the smells around me and gag.
The living room smells of rotten food, stale weed, and dirty sex. I gag when I spot Georgia sitting on the dirty couch, her skirt pulled up around her waist, no panties on, and dried blood between her exposed thighs. Her lace shirt is torn, and tears stain her face, making her makeup run. She’s been abused and raped by these animals.
But that’s not what makes me gag. That vacant, glassy stare coming from her brown eyes, and the needle jabbed into her arm. She overdosed, and from the way her body is positioned, it wasn’t that long ago.
My fingers feel for a pulse, just to be sure. Her skin is still warm, but her heartbeat is gone. I shake my head. “She’s dead but not too long ago.”
“Fuck.” Tiny shakes his head, saddened by the news. He rubs a hand down his face.
I stand up and gently run my hand down Georgia’s face, closing her eyes. I send a silent prayer for her to be forgiven in the eyes of the Lord.
“Keep moving,” Blayze demands. As the VP, he has authority when Capone isn’t present. He stayed outside, looking for trouble.
Blayze, Torch, and Derange head up the stairs after sweeping the rest of the rooms downstairs. Once they’re out of sight, Trigger points to a door with a padlock on it.
Trigger, Zach, and I head toward the door leading to the basement. Trigger picks the padlock, and I steady my gun, aiming it at the door. Once the lock is off, he opens the door and then heads down the dark stairs. I follow, with Zach right behind me. The quietness engulfs us, and I’m on edge.
The smell hits me first. The stench of sweat, piss, and mold assaults my nose, making my eyes water. I try not to take deep breaths the further we walk down the stairs. I pray Elise isn’t down here, but I don’t think it will be answered.
Trigger flicks on a single bulb over our heads, and a deep guttural cry escapes his throat, making me jump.
Chained to the wall, wrists bound above her head, is a woman who has similar features to Trigger. Her blonde hair is dirty, fresh bruises litter her face and arms. Her clothes are still intact, which is a small mercy in this horrific situation. Her head is slumped to the side, being held up by her arms. She’s unconscious, but her chest is rising and falling at a steady pace.
Trigger rushes forward and gently unhooks her restraints. “Oh, Elise. I’m so sorry, big little sister.” His voice is clogged with emotion as he keeps repeating how sorry he is over and over as he drags her limp body into his arms.
Tears burn my eyes, but I push them back. He doesn’t need a sniveling, crying woman right now. He needs someone strong to hold him up when he is falling.
I kneel beside them and place my hand on Trigger’s shoulder, offering comfort. He looks up at me, his sharp blue eyes are full of grief and rage, not at me but at the men who did this to his sister.
“Come on, Trigger, let’s get her home where we can have a doctor look her over, and she can start to heal.” I offer.
Trigger stands, the raw power behind his muscles flexing while he holds Elise against his chest. We carefully walk to the steps, and I lead the way, with my gun drawn and ready to shoot an fuckers who get in our way.
The music is cut off, then a loud thump and a cry of pain from upstairs draw my attention. But instead of going to investigate, I keep leading Trigger out of the house and toward the van.
Sadness echoes in the night, and I feel helpless as Capone, Seth, Pretty Playboy, and Jax help Trigger load Elise into the van. The doors shut, and three of them speed off, leaving me standing here alone. Jax stays back to bring Trigger’s bike home for him.
While I watch the brake lights of the van disappear, I vow I will end these motherfuckers. I will right what happened tonight, even if it means losing my job. No one should ever have to go through what these women have. What these families are going through.
Blayze and Tiny drag a man out of the house, covered in blood. His face isn’t very recognizable anymore.
“Who’s that?” I ask.
“I don’t know, but it’s not Lattimer,” Blayze responds, holding his gun tight against the man’s temple. His hands shake with fury.
Derange and Zach come out behind them, dragging another body. “And this one here is Jonas Mercer.”
My blood boils when I take in the man who took Elise. He’s still conscious and fighting Derange and Zach against his binds. Derange cold cocks Jonas in the face, knocking him out.
Zach leaves and comes back with the van a few minutes later. Once Jonas and the stranger are secure and the guys get their bikes, we take off back to the Clubhouse.
Tension thickens like a storm, ready to break. Blood, sweat, and tears muffle the cries of our captives, but I don’t give a shit. Not anymore. These motherfuckers will pay for what they did.