Chapter 36
Breakfast was about as organised as everything else at Wallhalla.
Mia had put the food out with the firm conviction that people could either eat or starve, and seemed to have left the rest to fate.
People slowly began gathering around the long table, not because anyone had called them over, but because eventually the smell of coffee, fried bacon and eggs became stronger than the hangovers.
It worked better for some than for others.
One of the Assholes guys had settled with his forehead against the tabletop and seemed to be conducting some kind of private negotiation with his stomach, while the man beside him was working his way through an overflowing plate as though the previous night had never happened.
“I’m going to die.”
No one reacted at first, not because they hadn’t heard him, but because the same thing had been said at least five times since Charlie had come downstairs.
“We’re still hoping,” someone called from farther away.
That made a few people laugh, which turned out to be a mistake.
The man at the table made a sound suggesting that laughter was directly life-threatening in his current condition and shot to his feet so quickly that the chair toppled over behind him.
He was halfway to the toilet before the rest of the room started applauding.
Billy raised his coffee mug. “Fighting spirit.”
“He ran for his life.”
“Exactly.”
The laughter continued around the table, the abandoned chair still rocking slightly, and somewhere in the middle of it all Charlie was struck by how strangely normal everything felt.
The night before, they had talked about threats, videos and people who wanted to see Wallhalla burn.
Now those same people were sitting around discussing who had managed to acquire the worst hangover as though it were the most important problem they had to solve.
Farther away, Tony was trying to convince Sissi that he actually needed to get up and do something productive before any of the older members noticed that he was still sitting on the sofa.
It wasn’t going particularly well. Sissi merely moved closer, and Tony looked far too pleased with his predicament for anyone to feel much sympathy for him.
Billy studied them over the rim of his coffee mug. “Prospect.”
Tony looked up. “Mm?”
“You’ve got shit to do.”
“Mm.”
“So why are you still sitting there?”
Tony glanced down at Sissi, who was half draped over him with her head against his shoulder, before smiling. “Because I like my current problem.”
Sissi laughed first, Amanda immediately afterwards, and within seconds the sound had spread around the table while Tony received roughly the amount of abuse one would expect from a clubhouse full of bikers.
Billy slowly shook his head. “You do know that thing has been around the club more times than I can count, right?”
Tony sighed. “Yes, VP.”
“Good. Then you also know that if you don’t get your arse off that sofa soon, someone’s going to start wondering whether you actually want to be a prospect.”
“Yes, VP.”
Sissi raised her head. “You want to take his place or what?”
Billy looked as though someone had just offered him food poisoning. “Absolutely fucking not.”
“Coward.”
“Realist.”
Rollo snorted from across the table. “You’re scared of her.”
“I have survival instincts.”
“You didn’t last Saturday.”
Billy’s eyes narrowed. “That was a mistake.”
“Twice?”
“I said I don’t want to talk about it.”
This time the whole place erupted in laughter, and Billy went back to his coffee with a deep sigh as though it were the only friend he had left in the world.
Outside, an engine started, coughed and died. Then came a long stream of swearing.
Charlie didn’t even have to look towards the window.
“Jesse?”
“Jesse,” Amanda confirmed.
“Has he been working on the same bike all morning?”
“Since dawn.”
“Does it work?”
Amanda considered that for a few seconds. “Technically, it’s still there.”
Charlie laughed and leaned back against Reeze. He sat close behind her with one arm resting along the back of her chair, only occasionally joining the conversations around them. Every now and then she felt his fingers brush over her neck or shoulder without him seeming to realise he was doing it.
He did that sometimes, as though his body needed to make certain she was still there even when the rest of him was occupied with something else.
The morning was loud, chaotic and completely disorganised, yet somehow it all fitted together.
That was how Wallhalla worked. The chaos had rules of its own, and after a few days Charlie had begun to understand enough of them that she no longer reacted to every raised voice or sudden bang.
Maybe that was why no one reacted to the first sound from outside.
People dropped things in the workshop several times a day, and Jesse had already proved that a motorcycle could make almost any conceivable noise if given enough time.
The second sound was different.
A heavy metallic crash echoed through the building and several people looked up. The conversations didn’t stop completely, but there was that brief pause that came when an entire room tried to make sense of the same sound at once.
“What the fuck was—” The question was never finished.
The front door gave way with a deafening crash and flew into the room with enough force to send splinters of wood across the floor.
Charlie had just enough time to see people twisting around at the long table before another bang came from the other side of the room and the window behind the pool table exploded inwards in a shower of glass.
After that, no one needed to ask what was happening.
Reeze was already on his feet. The chair went over behind him as he grabbed Charlie and pulled her away from the table just as the first men poured through the shattered entrance.
Sunkholes.
Charlie recognised the colours immediately, and the next second the entire room erupted into motion.
Chairs scraped violently across the floor, someone overturned a table trying to reach the men coming through the doorway, and everywhere there was swearing, shouting and breaking glass mixed with the dull impact of bodies slamming into one another.
Reeze had already moved in front of her. One hand held her arm, guiding her backwards and away from the entrance and the worst of the fighting, while his gaze swept across the room.
Most of the Sunkholes guys were doing exactly what he expected. They threw themselves into the first fight they could find without any greater plan than hurting as many people as possible before somebody stopped them. Two of the men were behaving differently.
They didn’t stop to help their own and barely seemed interested in the men trying to block their path. Instead, they kept moving through the room, their eyes searching between people, tables and overturned chairs. Reeze watched them.
Something about the way they moved set alarm bells ringing before he even understood why.
Then one of them spotted Charlie. The change was immediate.
The man altered direction without hesitation and started forcing his way through the chaos towards them. He no longer looked anywhere else, and when Charlie moved behind Reeze, the man’s gaze followed her. Everything fell into place. He wasn’t looking for someone from Wallhalla.
He was looking for her. Reeze released Charlie’s arm.
“Wrong fucking choice.”
She barely had time to turn towards him before he started forward.
The man coming towards them was bigger than most and older than many of the guys who had stormed the clubhouse.
He wasn’t some young idiot who had come looking for a fight.
He moved too calmly for that, ducking a punch without even properly looking at the man who threw it and continuing forward with the same relentless purpose.
Charlie had seen him now as well and instinctively took another step back.
That was when Billy came in from the side. Not to save the situation or do anything particularly heroic. He simply happened to have a Sunkholes member in his way and hit him hard enough that both men disappeared over a table, which collapsed beneath them with a crash.
“Wrong woman, you fucking idiot!”
Someone roared something back, another man threw himself into the fight, and a second later Billy vanished again among fists, chairs and bodies.
The man in front of Reeze kept coming. So did Reeze. As the distance between them closed, he saw the name on the patch.
Chris. Sunkholes’ vice president.
Rollo had talked about him enough over the years for Reeze to recognise the name, and Chris appeared to recognise him at almost the same moment. His gaze moved over Reeze’s cut and up to his face before a crooked smile appeared on his lips.
“So you’re Reeze.”
Reeze didn’t answer. Chris looked past him again, towards Charlie. That was the last confirmation he needed. Chris hadn’t come here for Wallhalla. He hadn’t even come here for Reeze. He had come for Charlie.
“Wrong fucking choice,” Reeze repeated.
Chris barely had time to look back before the punch came.
Reeze’s fist connected with his jaw with every ounce of force he could put behind it, throwing Chris backwards into a table that cracked beneath his weight.
He tried to get up almost immediately, but Reeze gave him no time.
He grabbed his cut, hauled him upright and hit him again. And again.
Chris was no amateur. He managed to land several blows that under normal circumstances would have made Reeze react, but right now he barely registered them.
Every time Chris tried to find his footing, Reeze was already on him.
An elbow to the jaw, a knee driven into his stomach and another fist that sent him back to the floor.
Somewhere through the noise, Reeze heard Billy roar.
“Take him alive!”
The words reached him without really registering.
“Reeze!” Rollo this time. That stopped him.