Liberated (3 page)

He wanted her to be able to go out on vet visits with an open, trusting heart like she always had before. Without having to worry if the Liberators might be waiting for her in a secluded barn or even back at her house. Just the mere act of being with him would put her at risk.

Back at the cabin, Kendra had told him about how hard she had worked to get through college and then vet school. She loved her family, her job, and her life working with the animals. For him to come in and steal some of that joy away because of his involvement with the Steel Infidels wasn’t right. A few days with him and her life had already been turned completely upside down. And now that the war with the Liberators was cranking up full force, it was only going to get worse. He hated to think what the next few days or weeks would bring. None of it would be good.

He had to end it with Kendra before it went any further, even if it killed him to do it. The thought ripped his heart out. Being with her felt so right. But he knew the longer it went on, the harder it would be to break it off. His feelings would only grow stronger with time.

With any luck, maybe Kendra had come to the same conclusion. She couldn’t have been thrilled about everything that had happened the last few days. From being pressured into taking care of his gunshot wound to being caught in the middle of a gun battle, she would probably be very relieved for Flint to end it so she wouldn’t have to.

Flint hoped so. Walking away from a woman like Kendra would be a next to impossible thing to do. Depressed and dreading the task ahead of him, Flint drained his beer and grabbed another one.

When Jesse came into the kitchen a little while later, Flint was still sitting at the table with his eyes closed.

“Hey buddy,” Jesse said, clapping him on the shoulder as he walked past him to the refrigerator. “Any beer left for me?”

“A couple,” Flint answered. “Everything taken care of with the SUV?”

“For now,” Jesse answered. “We were able to get it over to the chop shop. They’ll have it in a million unidentifiable pieces by the end of the day. Luckily, there weren’t many people out on the roads because of the ice. What about the Liberators? Everything okay on your end?”

Flint nodded. “The bodies will never be found. Ever. We made sure of that.”

Jesse studied him for a moment without speaking. He grabbed a beer and joined him at the table. “So, you want to tell me what’s going on with you and the doc?” he asked.

Flint leaned forward and began peeling the corner of the paper wrapping of the beer bottle. “What do you mean?”

Jesse raised his eyebrows. “Don’t shit me. I can see something’s going on. You two were as thick as thieves up on the mountain. You like her?”

Flint let out a tired sigh. “Yeah, I like her. She’s great. Too good for me.”

Jesse didn’t argue with him or try to convince his brother otherwise. He’d had his share of women trouble because of the MC, too. Serious relationships and the motorcycle club rarely went together smoothly.

“Funny thing,” Jesse said. “I had a chance to take a good long look at the SUV and the bodies before you hauled them away. I’m not an expert by any means, but from what I could tell, there were a whole shitload of bullet holes that couldn’t have come from your pistol. Want to tell me what really happened up there before we arrived?”

Flint blew out a long breath and shook his head. “I can’t.”

Jesse stayed quiet for a moment. “You realize the MC can’t protect her if we don’t know the whole story. I’m not an idiot. I saw you take the shotgun away from her and slide it under the seat of my pickup. I assume those extra bullet holes came from her gun?”

Flint knew Jesse was absolutely right. His brother should know about the sacrifices Kendra had made for the MC. Keeping secrets always seemed to cause more problems later on.

“We were stuck on an icy patch of road,” Flint began. “I went behind the truck to push while Kendra took the wheel. I had my head down, so when the Liberators came flying around the curve, she spotted them before I did. By the time I saw them and they recognized me, she’d already grabbed the shotgun. When they piled out of the SUV and pointed their guns at me, she started shooting. Long story short, Kendra saved my life.”

Jesse leaned back in his chair and took another sip of beer. “Fucking unbelievable. Why the hell did she do that?”

Flint threw up his hands. “I don’t know. She was protecting me, I guess. Act first, think later kind of thing. I doubt she really thought it through. It all happened so fast. If she hadn’t started shooting, there’s no doubt they would have killed us both right then and there.”

“She got a lot of shots in with her gun. You understand what I’m saying?”

“She killed one of them?” Flint wasn’t surprised.

“Maybe more than one,” Jesse answered. “Honestly, how the hell am I supposed to know? A shotgun blows a big ass hole and there were lots of them. Who knows whose bullet did the final deed? It might have been her or any one of us. As long as you took care of the bodies and destroyed the evidence, we’ll never need to know. And more importantly, she’ll never need to know.”

Flint leaned his elbows on the table and put his head in his hands. “This keeps getting worse by the minute. Does anyone else know this about her?”

Jesse shook his head. “Nah, I doubt it. When we arrived, the doc was behind the truck. I didn’t see her fire a shot, so my guess is nobody else did either. And you know Rocco and the rest of the crew never pay much attention to details. They probably didn’t even notice it. Nobody mentioned it. We were all too busy cleaning up the damn mess and dumping the evidence to think too much about the doc.”

“Nobody else can know about this,” Flint said. “Especially not Kendra. She thinks she shot the driver in the leg and that’s it. She can never find out that she might be responsible for any of the fatal shots.”

“She won’t hear it from me, I promise,” Jesse agreed. “It certainly wouldn’t help the MC, and she might even feel guilty enough to turn herself in and spill everything. That would be a fucking disaster. What are you going to do about her anyway?”

“End it. Being with me is shit. She needs to get out while she still can.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Jesse said. “You’re right though. It’s probably for the best. I haven’t had the best luck in the world with women either. No matter what you decide, the Steel Infidels still owe her for everything she did to help us out. Make sure to tell her the proceeds from the charity drive will be there for her wildlife clinic in the spring. And tell her thank you from me. For everything.”

“I will,” Flint said. “That’s the least we can do.”

“I’ve called a meeting tonight at the clubhouse and asked everybody to be there. We need to update all of the crew about the Liberators and take a vote whether to go on the offensive or not. Are you absolutely sure this is best for the MC?”

“It is,” Flint replied firmly. “Unless you have a better idea? They’re going to keep coming at us until we stop them once and for all.”

“I’m shit out of ideas. I’ve been raring to go full force at them every day since they murdered Tommy. Nothing too bad can happen to them as far as I’m concerned. The only reason I’ve been holding back is because of you and Sam.”

“I know. I’ve been thinking about this, and we have to be smart this time. Not like in the past. The MC has to go at it a different way. A way that can’t be traced back to us. We’re not a bunch of deadbeat drug addicts who dropped out of high school. We’re on a whole different level than the Liberators, and there should be a way for us to take them out and still keep our hands clean. There’s more than one way to put the Liberators out of business without another big shootout somewhere.”

“Since you’re the brains of the operation, do you want to head this up?” Jesse asked. “All you have to do is say the word, and I’ll make sure the crew backs you up one hundred percent. It’ll be just like old times. You’re the brains and I’m the muscle. It’s always been that way.”

Flint laughed. “Yeah, we always made quite a team. I knew no matter what kind of mess I got myself into when I was young that you’d always run over and help me fight my way out. The two of us together were invincible. It’s not us I’m worried about though. What about Sam? We have to protect him. I don’t want him getting hurt or tangled up in this mess.”

“He’s one of the crew, too,” Jesse reasoned. “Just like us. He’s all grown up now and we can’t treat him differently from the others. He would hate us for it, and the other crew members would disrespect him if we did.”

“He’s our little brother, for Christ’s sake! That makes him different. And you know that after everything Sam has been through with Dad, we can’t dump more shit on him. Help me figure out a plan to keep him safe. And don’t give me that bullshit about treating him the same as Rocco or Tom. I know deep down inside you feel exactly the same way as I do.”

“You’re right, I do. But Sam can’t know about this or he’ll hate us both.”

“You mean instead of just me?” Flint asked.

“That’s not what I said.”

“It’s what you meant. I know how Sam feels about me and how I abandoned him. All the more reason I’m not throwing him under the wheels of the Liberators now. I won’t let him down again. We need to agree to keep Sam out of the front lines in this fucking mess.”

“No argument from me,” Jesse said.

“No argument about what?” Sam asked as he strolled into the kitchen. He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it across the back of a chair. “How is your arm doing, Flint?” he asked over his shoulder before opening the refrigerator. “Dammit! You motherfuckers drank all the goddamn beer!”

“Here, you can have what’s left of mine,” Flint said. He stood up and handed the half-empty bottle to Sam. “See you both tonight at the clubhouse.”

Sam looked at the beer a second before taking a sip. “Thanks a lot, asshole!”

Flint laughed. He shot a quick look at Jesse, who imperceptibly nodded back.

Sam would stay safe. The brothers would make sure of it. And Kendra would never know she most likely murdered someone.

So many secrets to juggle.

T
he Steel Infidels’ clubhouse smelled musty, like sweat and stale beer. The hangout was an old renovated warehouse in a rundown industrial park on the outskirts of Bardsville. Only a few years before, the industrial park had been a bustling place with boot factories and textile plants. One by one, the manufacturing businesses had outsourced their work overseas until all of the factories had eventually given pink slips to their workers and closed up shop.

With the economy being so bad, there weren’t any new businesses coming in to take over the empty spaces. The man who owned the property had been thrilled to rent out one of the buildings and a back section of the property to the Steel Infidels. It gave the MC privacy, plenty of room to hang out, and a secure place to park their motorcycles and extra vehicles.

A couple of men in the crew were trained carpenters, and it hadn’t taken them long to turn the warehouse into a biker’s version of an ideal motorcycle club hangout, complete with billiard tables, posters of naked girls on the wall, and mismatched couches and chairs.

The crew had even taken the time to remodel a couple of the old bookkeeping offices into small, drab-looking bedrooms. The term “bedroom” was used loosely since the rooms mainly consisted of a donated bed and a couple of rolling office chairs. Over the years, all of the crew, including Flint, had spent the night there at one time or the other, either to sleep off a drunk or to have a place to hook up with a girlfriend away from their old lady’s prying eyes.

When Flint walked in, he immediately noticed the clubhouse needed a good floor-to-ceiling cleaning. After the meeting, he would have to give a strict lecture to the handful of new prospects whose responsibilities were to keep the place looking halfway decent and clean. He’d been away only a couple of days and they were already slacking off. Since they were competing with each other for a place at the voting table, he knew a few stern words would be enough to whip them back into shape.

He glanced around the room, making sure there wasn’t anyone there that he didn’t know. Strangers weren’t allowed in the club, but occasionally a nomad or a member of another friendly motorcycle club would drop by to visit and catch up with the crew.

Flint wasn’t surprised to see a few young women milling about the pool tables and a couple more hanging out with the guys throwing darts. The Sweet Butts were as much a part of the motorcycle club culture as the crew’s black leather cuts and motorcycles.

Flint didn’t find any of the current girls appealing, though he was probably the only guy in the MC to think that way. The girls hanging around the clubhouse were easy on the eyes and eager to please, the main requirements of being one of the MC’s Sweet Butts or party girls. With a snap of a crew’s fingers, any of the girls would be willing to get down on their knees to give a blowjob or anything else a member wanted.

All for the privilege of being one of the Steel Infidels’ girls.

Some of the other motorcycle clubs in the state, mostly renegade one-percenters, recruited young girls right off the street. They were mostly runaways hooked on meth or new hookers. Occasionally, they even bought the girls outright from their pimps to keep and do with as they pleased. It made Flint sick to think about the young girls being sold into a version of modern day slavery. Most people didn’t realize such evil things existed in the good old United States of America. He’d heard rumors that the Liberators were one of the groups who were holding young women, either by force or by keeping them so strung out on drugs they didn’t want to leave. As far as he was concerned, that was one more nail in their coffin and another reason to permanently wipe them out.

The Steel Infidels didn’t have to stoop so low to get their girls. The pretty young women lined up for the opportunity to swing their legs over the seat of a crew member’s bike. If one of the girls fell out of line or caused too much trouble among the other girls, the MC would simply kick them out and bring in another. With women being the way they were, there was always a mess of some kind being stirred up, usually caused by jealousy over preferential treatment by the crew or one girl fucking another girl’s man. As a result, the clubhouse always had a steady stream of fresh new faces.