Crash (Black Ice MC Novella Book 2) (8 page)

BOOK: Crash (Black Ice MC Novella Book 2)
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He was right.
 
Two of them wiped out, crashing loudly into garbage cans and other things lining the streets.
 
As soon as the road straightened out, he hit the gas and took off like a rocket.
 
The other eight were close behind him.
 
He knew the road up ahead was in the middle of being paved, so as soon as he approached the rough undercoating of the street, he slammed on the brakes, his big bike making a tremendous squeal.
 
Two more Rattlers hit the rough pavement and their bikes went down.
 
They were going too fast and skidded off through the paving machinery.
 
One of them smacked his head against a bulldozer.
 
It didn’t look like he was ever getting up again.
 
Mercer thought of his friend Specs, but quickly cleared him mind.
 
He hit the gas again, but this time heading in a different direction.
 

That was four Rattlers down and six to go.
 
The odds still weren’t in his favor, but he was bound and determined to win.
 
It was who he was.
 
As he told Danni, he was a survivor, and this wasn’t going to be the end of him.

He tore through past the small houses in Rawlins’ poorer area.
 
Small children looked on in amazement as he flew down their street going eighty miles an hour.
 
Soon, the rival gang was behind him again.
 
Suddenly, a basketball flew into the street in front of Mercer and he hit the brakes hard as a dark haired kid chased after the ball without once checking for traffic.
 
It was all Mercer could do to keep the bike on two wheels and avoid the child.
 
He hit the sides of cars, taking off side view mirrors as he went.
 

Mercer balanced the bike, but avoiding the kid had cost him his lead.
 
He was surrounded by the six remaining Rattlers.
 
One swerved into him, causing him to hit another car.
 
Nothing Mercer could do would keep the bike upright, so he laid it down in a controlled slide.
 
The Rattlers circled him and got off their bikes.

“You ain’t walking out here alive, homes,” said Fixer.
 
“We were just going to teach you a lesson, but after that shit, we gonna put you in the ground.”

“Bring it,” said Mercer.
 

He grabbed one of the Rattlers and kneed him between the legs, knowing full well there was no way out.
 
They had him six to one.
 
His only hope was to take a few down with him.
 
He pushed the man into another and they both fell.
 
Mercer swung his leg high and planted his thick motorcycle boot into Fixer’s stomach.
 
He howled in pain, but somehow managed to grab Mercer’s leg and hold tight.

Another Rattler, a large bearded man with a shiny bald head, came in close with a knife.
 
He slashed Mercer’s side.
 
His leather jacket caught most of the blade, but he still took a long cut along his rib cage.
 
The knife came at him again.
 
As Mercer held up his arm to block the attack, the man sliced his forearm.
 
He fell back to the pavement, his head landing on his bike. Immediately, the remaining Rattlers jumped in to pin him down. Not that Mercer had much fight left in him, anyway.

“Welcome to the end, Mercer,” smirked Fixer.
 
“Should’ve left town like you were told.”
 
He turned to the bald man with the knife.
 
“Smitty, cut this fucker to ribbons.”

Smitty held the knife deftly and got in close.
 
He lifted Mercer by his leather jacket and yanked it off him.
 
His t-shirt was stained dark red along his side and his arm was bleeding badly as well.
 
The Rattlers held him down as Smitty grabbed his hurt arm and made another cut.
 
He slowly pulled the blade across flesh, spilling more blood.
 
It was agony, but Mercer didn’t make a sound.
 
He might die on the street, but he wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of knowing how badly it hurt.

Smitty pulled the knife towards his bicep, getting closer to a spot that Mercer knew contained a major artery.
 
If Smitty cut that, Mercer would bleed out in minutes.
 
His mind raced for a plan, but nothing came to mind.
 
He was trapped and about to die and there was nothing he could do.
 
His mind thought of Danni. He hoped Doc could get her out of town before the Rattlers came for her, too.

There was a loud bang and the side of Smitty’s head exploded.
 
Chunks of skull and brains blew through the air and his eyes went dead before his body ever hit the ground.
 
Every single man spun to see where the shot had come from.
 
Cruz was standing ten feet away, next to his bike.
 
In the excitement, no one had heard him approaching.
 

“Get the fuck away from him!” commanded Cruz.

The Rattlers stood up, but made no effort to move away from Mercer.

“Did you hear me?
 
Back the fuck up or I blow another one of you assholes away.”

“What then?” shouted Fixer.
 
“You can’t take all of us.”

“I can take enough of you out to destroy the Rattlers.
 
And who’s gonna make a move?
 
Because I guarantee, the first man to step this way ends up a bloody wad on the street.”

None of the Rattlers moved.
 
None of them wanted to be the first to attempt to take on Cruz and almost certainly die.

“That’s what I thought,” said Cruz.
 
“Now I will only say it one more time to get away from Mercer.”

They did as he said. Mercer, ghost white, didn’t move.
 
He had lost a lot of blood and he wasn’t going to last much longer if Cruz didn’t get him to help soon.

Never dropping his gun, Cruz got to Mercer and helped him up.
 

“Can you ride?”

“Yeah,” said Mercer, although he didn’t really believe it, and from the look on Cruz’s face, he didn’t either.
 

Cruz got Mercer’s bike back on its wheels.
 
Bits of glass and metal fell off and Mercer climbed on, cradling his bloody arm.
 
He kicked the bike to life and got it up to a decent speed.
 
Cruz quickly got to his bike and rode past the Rattlers, keeping his gun on them the whole time.
 

When they turned the corner, Cruz holstered his gun and yelled to Mercer to take off.
 
Mercer hit the gas and rode as fast as he dared.
 
He was light headed and could only hope he’d make it back to the clubhouse.
 
He constantly checked his one remaining mirror, but it looked like the Rattlers weren’t following.

They were two blocks from the clubhouse when Mercer collapsed off his bike.
 
Fortunately, he had just stopped at a light and was only going ten miles an hour when he lost consciousness.
 
He slipped off his bike and it traveled another five feet before crashing against the pavement.

Cruz skidded to a halt and jumped off his motorcycle.
 
He checked Mercer’s pulse.
 
It was there, but it was weak.
 
He pulled Mercer out of the road, then did the same with his bike.
 
He pulled out his phone.

“Doc, its Cruz.
 
We need a doctor right now.
 
It’s Mercer and he’s bad.”

Cruz hung up the phone and got Mercer to his feet.

“Can you hang on enough to ride on back?”

Mercer nodded, barely awake.
 
Cruz put him on the back and they were at the clubhouse moments later.
 
Doc came running outside and they hoisted Mercer’s arms over their shoulders and carried him inside.

“What happened?” asked Doc.

“They cut him.
 
Bad.”

“Jesus.
 
Nothing worse than a knife.
 
I called the doctor.
 
He’ll be here in a few minutes.”

“I hope we have a few minutes.”

They placed Mercer on the kitchen island and cut off his shirt.
 
It was soaked with blood and hit the floor with a soggy thud.
 
They grabbed all the towels they could find and stopped the bleeding as much as they could.

“Jesus, they cut him up good,” said Doc.
 
Get his belt off.
 
Tie it around his arm.
 
OK, good.
 
Now elevate it.”

A short, bald man came running into the room.
 
He was wearing a dark suit with no tie and carrying a black canvas medical bag.
 

“Out of the way, please,” he said brusquely.
 
“How long ago did the patient receive the injuries?”

Doc looked to Cruz.

“Um, I don’t know. Ten minutes ago?
 
Fifteen?”

The doctor reached into his bag and pulled out a vial of liquid.
 
He inserted a syringe and withdrew several CC’s.
 
He put the needle to Mercer’s arm and injected him.

“What is that?” said Cruz.

The doctor didn’t appear to hear him.
 
“There is a gauze in my bag, along with alcohol.
 
Pour the alcohol on the gauze and wipe down his wounds, then get my sutures.”

Cruz looked like he was going to be sick.

“C’mon, keep it together,” said Doc.

“Yeah, I will, but sutures?
 
Jesus.”

“How the hell else are we going to stitch Mercer back together?”

Just then the door came open again.
 
Doc and Cruz looked over to see Danni walking in.
 
She hadn’t yet seen Mercer on the counter.
 
Cruz hurried to her, trying to block her view.

“What’s going on?” asked Danni.

“Nothing,” said Cruz.
 
“Club business.
 
We need you to leave now.”

“What the hell are you covered in?
 
Is that blood?”

Danni pushed Cruz to the side and saw Mercer on the kitchen island, with Doc and a short man stitching him up.
 
The world went out of focus, and without realizing what she was doing, she had pushed past Cruz and was running to Mercer.
 

Cruz grabbed her and lifted her off her feet.
 
She kicked and punched at him but he wouldn’t put her down.
 
She fought with everything she had to get to Mercer, screaming at the top of her lungs, but Cruz wouldn’t let go.
 
Doc yelled to get her out of there, so Cruz kicked the door open and took her outside.
 
She fought more, trying to get back inside, but he kept his arms around her, not letting her get away.

When she finally calmed down, tears were streaming down her face and Danni thought she was going to pass out.
 
Cruz got her to the car and put her in the passenger seat.
 
He got in the driver’s seat and started driving.
 

A few minutes later, he pulled up outside an apartment building.
 
Danni didn’t know where she was, and didn’t really care at that point.
 
All she knew was Mercer was bleeding to death in that goddamn clubhouse back there and there was nothing she could do about it.

Cruz got out of the car, then came around and helped her out.
 
He took her up two flights of stairs and then opened a door to a small, dirty apartment.
 
There was a threadbare couch against a wall.
 
He sat her down, walked into the kitchen, and grabbed a jug of water from the fridge.
 
He poured a glass and handed it to her, then drank straight from the jug.
 
He finished half of it before taking a breath.

“You OK?” he asked.

“No, I’m not OK.
 
My boyfriend is being stitched together and you just kidnapped me,” said Danni, holding the plastic cup, but not drinking.

“Jesus, don’t be so dramatic.
 
You weren’t kidnapped.
 
I brought you here to chill so the doctor can do his work.
 
You were going nuts in there and if I had let you go, the doctor would’ve made a mistake.
 
So give me a fucking break, OK?”

Danni nodded.
 
She realized what he was saying was true, even if she wasn’t going to admit it to him.
 
She had lost control—something she rarely did, if ever.
 
The sight of Mercer on that table, covered in his own blood, had been too much for her.
 

BOOK: Crash (Black Ice MC Novella Book 2)
4.64Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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