Outlaw MC Bear (7 page)

“
W
e’re okay
. You’re good. We’re golden,” he kept repeating.

It was nonsense. Sabrina was still trembling beneath him. Her small hands dug into his shirt, pawing at his chest for some sense of security. He readjusted to the vertigo that hung around after the shaking stopped, bunching his shoulders into a knot. He thought of getting up to check thing out, but something kept him from moving. For a second he questioned his instincts, imagining it was because he couldn’t loosen his tight hold around her waist without making sure she was good.

That was not it.

Another explosion rattled the far end of the clubhouse.

It wasn’t over.

“Shhh.” He absently tried to soothe her tiny, fearful shrieks while his eyes roamed over her body for any sign of injury. “It’s going to be okay, Sabrina.”

Yeah right.

What was fucked up was Silas didn’t know whether she was more freaked because of the attack, or the beast that she’d seen behind his eyes. He didn’t know which one made him more anxious either.

“Are you okay? You’re not hurt anywhere? I don’t see anything…”

She sniffled, clawing at his shirt until he rolled off of her and pulled her up to sit. “I’m fine. What was that?”

“I’ve got to check.” Helping her to stand, he guided her over to the bed. “You need to stay put. Don’t leave this room. Understand?”

In spite of her uppity protests and shocked expression, he rushed away and locked the door from his side.

“You bastard!” she screamed through the door, realizing right away she was locked in.

Whatever. She was safest up here. That was all that mattered as he headed away, aware that someone had gotten two steps ahead of the game by trying to blow up the clubhouse and actually pulling it off. He heard her cussing him out all the way down the stairs as he vaulted down into the clubhouse common room.

It was chaos, and nearly impossible to piece together the jigsaw of images. There was smoke everywhere, and panicked cries from every woman in the place. One wall was blown out. The new big screen TV once mounted there was sparking. That was toast. Some people were picking themselves up and dusting each other off.

“Boys!” He struggled to make out the faces of his men through the sulfur haze. He was starting to choke.

“Tate’s outside,” a male voice called out.

It occurred to Silas that their failsafe sprinkler system had not gone off. That was not good. It probably meant someone sabotaged it beforehand, which suggested someone on the inside may have been in on this.

“Get everyone out now and get the sprinklers back up,” he barked out. If it’s not up in four minutes, call the fire department. Tell Axe to get Sabrina out of her room if it’s not under control by then too.”

Now he needed answers. Silas covered his mouth and nose with the neck of his t-shirt and ran toward where he thought the clubhouse door should be located. Minutes felt like hours. He burst outside into the starlight just as Tate was pulling away on his bike with a wickedly grim look on his mug. Yeah, shit was going to go down for this mistake. Whoever had kicked off this violent attack was in for a rough wake-up call.

A sudden chill made him shiver. As much as he wanted to haul ass after his Tate, he didn’t have any idea where his brother was going, and he was needed here. If Tate were to find out anything, Silas trusted him to take care of business and report back. His spine tightened, fingers at his sides. Waves of hot and cold pulled through his veins. In the distance, the first wails of a siren broke through the quiet. Still he kept his feet planted into the desert dirt, eyes looking out on the horizon, steadying his breath while his bear fought to break free.

Now was not the time. Humans were entering the area, and that was all the more reason not to turn this into a circus show. Sure, there were a few select humans in town who knew about the wolf, panther and bear shifter clubs around here, but that didn’t need to get spread around. Somehow, even that logic didn’t get his bear to settle down. Each second that passed, the bear strained beneath his skin. Every inhale of breath was a fight. Every exhale brought him closer to where he really needed to be to get down to the bottom of who had hurt his family.

Not now.

That last thought about his kin forced him to turned around and survey the damage. His mother had to be fine. She was the first person everyone would seek out and pull to safety. Checking out the building, one wall was singed and smoky, and another had a giant hole the size of three men in it. The northwest section of the place was still on fire. The area where Sabrina was locked away was untouched, but that didn’t stop him from wondering how she was. By now, Axe must have taken her out of the room and had her somewhere at the back of the property, away from too many eyes.

His people spewed out of the clubhouse like little ants, some of them in shock, or coughing up the smoke still trapped in their lungs. Thank God Tate had the presence of mind to nominate some new prospect as Acting Emergency Warden. The new guy took his position seriously. He was wearing a bright orange and yellow safety vest, directing people to exit calmly and get at least a hundred feet from the building. Silas made a mental note to find out the kid’s name and commend him on a job well done when this was all over.

“Jesus fuck!”

Silas turned around as Cole nearly launched himself into him. The big old sentimental fart hardly gave Silas time to brace for impact when he pulled him in for a tight bear hug. He turned and looked up at the building. “Shit, I didn’t realize the blast hit us so hard. The motherfuckers will pay for this …”

“They damn well will, brother. We’ll be okay. Hey, did you get a head count?”

“A few minor scrapes, some burns, and one guy in the wrong place at the wrong time with a broken leg. No one was hurt badly enough to meet the reaper, so we’re good. They led the ones with more severe injuries out into the woods out back to shift and heal up.”

“Good.”

“You have any idea where the fuck this thing came from, kid?”

Silas shook his head. Usually, the stupid nickname yanked his chain in all the wrong ways. Tonight he ignored it, blinking and clearing his throat from smoke, scrubbing his hands across his face. Soot streaks were all over them when he checked out his palms. He looked at Cole again. “Cindy’s fine?”

“Not a scratch.”

“And Jenny?” He mentally cursed himself out for not asking Cole about his old lady sooner. Where the fuck was his head at?

“She’s okay. Just a small cut on her knee and a minor burn on her arm from trying to save her wedding dress. She’ll heal up no problem.” Cole shook his head. “Women…”

“Sounds like her,” Silas replied, only half paying attention.

His gaze scanned the parking lot filled with his people and now outsiders. This was exactly what he was hoping to avoid. Firefighters climbed out of their trucks and started planning their emergency response. Some inspected the wrecked wall of the clubhouse, and others dragged hoses out toward the small remnant of fire. The sprinklers had probably tackled the hot spots inside, as smoke and steam was rising up from where a flame once was. The local police showed up too, but Silas wasn’t too worried about them. These guys were paid for their silence. The club had strategic alliances, as he called it, key people who had the power or influence to help the Brotherhood improve their business, livelihood or lifestyle.

Two ambulance trucks showed up next and parked on the fringes to start triaging. Some of his people were already lining up, dragging humans toward the medical help. Shifters healed fine on their own, but he couldn’t say the same thing for everyone in their tight-knit clan. The aftermath of the bomb was minor, all things considered, but the boldness of the move was staggering. They’d dealt with violence like blood was their bread and butter, but for some reason this was different. Their rivals had never attacked civilians this way before.

“Let’s go around collecting what information we can find, and then I want to gather the voting members first, then just the executive officers later. Tell everyone nonessential to go home. We’ll meet the voting members in an hour. See you in the woods.”

“Good choice. Same spot?”

Silas bobbed his head in a short nod. “Tell Axe to have Jenny take Sabrina home with her for now. And put some muscle to watch her.”

“Will do. Don’t be late, kid.”

S
ilas couldn’t tell
what time it was right now. Silently, he perched on a rotting log in the shadows. His phone had died hours ago, halfway through taking notes while he talked to his key people and then sent them all off to finish their intel gathering. Either way the night shook out, the club had taken a serious hit. Someone had to pay, and whoever was responsible would have their own little taste of judgment day.

No one fucked with his home and lived to tell about it.

Moonlight licked through the trees, making the world around him seem beyond remarkable, yet so calm, and the polar opposite of the shitstorm they’d just gone through.

He got up, wound up his fist and punched a bone-shattering hole through the heart of the nearest tree. The splintering sound made his sensitive ears hurt, but the violent move was satisfying as he shook his fist out. His hand would heal when he shifted later on. At the moment, it throbbed like a son of a bitch.

“Feel better now?” Axe called out, crunching through the undergrowth and wiping his face with a bandana. “I think the tree lost that round.”

“Better is relative… and the tree had it coming.”

He and his best friend sat on the log and stared off into space, waiting for Cole and Tate. Dean wasn’t expected back until morning.

“This was a long-ass twenty-four hours.” Silas cracked his neck and took a deep breath. He smelled them. “Our boys are here. Six o’clock. Minus Dean.”

Axe adjusted himself and pulled out his phone.

“You got the time, bro?”

“A little after two in the morning.”

“That would put their attack around eleven-thirty.”

Axe grunted. “Because they couldn’t bomb us at a reasonable time of day. That would be too civil of them. Whoever
they
are. Coward cocksuckers.”

Tate and Cole appeared through the thick brush. They exchanged greetings and sat on the opposite log, making a four-man rectangle near the spot where Silas had been coming since he was a young cub. The woods were sacred, and this was the most special place for the four of them. No matter what was spoken here, shit didn’t leave. It was as close to church as the outlaw biker bears got. Everyone shook hands before getting down to business.

Silas swallowed, still tasting the charred smell of burnt wood on the back of his tongue. “What do we got, Tate? Any leads?”

“Yeah, those fuckers weren’t the brightest bulbs, Pres. I was outside when it happened, showing a hot piece the Harley restoration I’ve been working on. I saw them. It was two guys with ski masks, except they’d already pulled the masks up to their foreheads. They were jumping into a fucking lime green piece of shit Escalade, and took off when they saw me approaching. Easter egg vehicle-driving, tail between their fucking legs, can’t even show their faces motherfuckers—”

Silas made a circular motion with his finger for Tate to wrap it up. He was about to go off on one of his rants.

“Anyway, someone else shouted that the cowards had swung out two dark objects somewhere around the clubhouse, then heaved their good-for-nothing carcasses back into the bunny mobile and made tracks. I ditched the twisted claw and went looking around with some of the men to check the perimeter for whatever it was. Turns out it was two duffel bags with a few low-grade explosives. I didn’t smell it in time. There was barely enough time to shout a warning before it went off. I had to duck and cover before I could hop on my bike and chase down the sons of bitches. They were too far by that point, but I got half a plate number. That info with the make and model plus the Easter bunny shade of that vehicle will make it a breeze to find.”

“Good job, Tate.”

Cole nodded toward Axe and pulled out a pad of paper from the inside pocket of his leather cut. He followed it up with a vintage-style reading glasses Silas hadn’t seen before.

Apparently Axe hadn’t either. He looked over at Cole, settling into a loud, full-bodied peal of laughter. When he got the cackling under control, he asked, “What, did you break into an old folks’ home for those goggles, Gramps?”

“Stop sounding so fucking amused. This is serious shit and you’re sitting over there like we’re chatting about when you screwed that broad on your bike outside the clubhouse with a scotch in one hand and her twin sister at his back. You’re Sergeant at Arms, for fuck’s sake. Start acting like it.”

Once they’d all been called back to order by Cole’s no-nonsense glare, he read off his notes. Everything got real sober, real fast. All the whodunnit accounts had one thing in common. There were panther decals on the car, panther patches on their cuts, and one of them had yowled out the window on the way out of the clubhouse driveway.

Silas shook his head. “That makes no sense. They wouldn’t dare try something this serious with us. Not tonight, and not this obvious. Their president would never let a war start like this.”

“It all points to the panthers, boss. We have to face reality.” Cole took off his glasses, pocketing them back in his cut. “This confirmation makes things easy, but retaliation at a time like this… They’ve had a beef with us for a while, and we can’t let this go, Silas, but they just strengthened their alliance with the wolves, so we need to be smart.”

“If they did it, I don’t care about all that. As panther President, Kitt is accountable for all his panther yahoos, so they have to pay. I just want to know it’s them for sure.”

Axe nodded and spat at the ground. “Silas is right. We need to deliver a strong message, you got me? They’ve been waving their dicks in our faces long enough. Now it’s time to show them we may be peace-loving, but we’re willing to wage war and when we do, we’ll bury them.”

There was agreement all around the small circle.

“I say we—” Tate started.

Axe cut him off quickly. “No one wants to hear your fucked up necrophilia bullshit. Leave the retaliation to the non-sociopaths.”

“You have no idea how to have real fun.”

“Alright guys, listen up. We’re taking a vote. Once we’re a hundred percent sure it’s the panthers, if you’re in favor of retaliation with immediate reprisals, say aye. If against, say nay.” Silas glanced toward Axe. “You’re up.”

“Aye.”

Simple. Straight to the point. He made eye contact with Tate.

“Aye. Even if I don’t get to decide what to do with the bodies.”

Silas cringed and looked toward Cole, looking all mystical with moonbeams bouncing off his silver slicked back hair.

“Aye. There’s not even a question.”

“Dean’s not here, but we’ve already got a majority.” Silas took a breath. They were sealing the panthers’ fate. “We do this, but I say we do it right. We go at dusk when they’ll least expect it. We decimate, but no one dies. After we’re done, I’ll arrange a sit-down with Kitt so he knows the next time we won’t be that forgiving. Whatever we’ve got to do to make it right.”

There was a circle of nods in his direction.

“Let’s fuck up some panthers.”