The Riot (Hell's Disciples MC Book 5) (15 page)

“Please don’t do this.” What it is he’s doing, I’m not sure, but it has my legs weak and my mouth dry. “I’m sorry.” I apologize for something I’m not sure I’m even sorry for.

With my arms clasped together, he jerks me up and onto my feet, my hands held behind my back. “Now try ‘n run again,” he laughs, clearly proud of himself.

Shoving what I assume is a gun, harder into my back, he pushes me closer to the car.

“You’re not taking me to my brother are you?” I know without a shadow of a doubt he’s taking me to
them
.

“That I am.”

***

Claustrophobia is not something I suffer from, but I can feel it creeping up my neck, threatening to strangle me. The trunk is dark and dank. A musty smell wafts off the damp carpet every time I get jolted by the movements of the car.

Deep breaths in and out, I focus on my breathing and the road noise echoing in my ears.

I don’t have a single fucking clue what’s going on, and that only makes my panic that much worse. If I knew what was happening, I could prepare. I could be ready. Instead, I’m left wondering what the hell is going on.

I had one job, to convince my brother I need his help getting away. I wouldn’t have to actually execute the getting away part. I’d show up and tell my story. Rock would be there soon after and it would all be over. I’d be on my way home.

I’m not fucking stupid. I know the Disciples are going to do something, probably illegal, and probably bloody. Who am I to judge? Who am I to do anything other than help when Dan, Rock, and the rest of the guys have done nothing but support me when I needed them the most?

Family, by blood or bond, is forever. Through the good and the bad, Rock is my family, and his family is my family.

It feels like a lifetime, but finally the car slows and pulls off the road. The tires hit gravel and the car lurches slightly to the left, my body sliding to one side.

Bumping down the road, I listen for anything helpful, but hear nothing.

I keep praying to hear Harleys, but my prayers are going unanswered.

I’ve decided that my hands are zip-tied together, the plastic tight and uncomfortable. My arms are starting to burn, and my back is bowed unnaturally.

This is fucking awful.

A minute or two later, the car stops. I listen for something, anything, but get silence in return.

My hope starts to slip. I’m alone.

A Million Miles Away

Rock

How the fuck do things go so goddamn wrong so fast?

Following the little blue blimp on the map, my stomach bottoms out and my vision blurs. Caught somewhere between worried sick and mad as fuck, I’m not real sure what the fuck to do with myself.

For the first time since losing my mom years ago, I feel fucking helpless, a feeling I don’t handle real well.

“Fuuuuuck!”

Standing outside of my truck, I feel like going back inside and grabbing a bottle of Jack or two for the road. Jesus, when shit goes bad, it goes real bad.

I’m trying to stay in control and levelheaded about this, but all I keep thinking is I’m never gonna see her again. The worst motherfucking conclusion keeps taking control of my mind.

“You okay to drive?” T asks, hopping in the passenger seat.

Gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white, I nod, barely able to get out, “Yeah.”

“How far away are they?” Too fucking far.

Feels like I’m a million miles away, like there’s no way in hell I’m getting there in time. The closer I get, the further away she goes.

“Fifteen miles.” And fifteen miles has never felt so goddamn far.

“He’s not takin’ her to their club?” T asks, baffled.

I don’t know what the hell the prospect’s doing, but what I do know is that he’s not following the plan. The motherfucker is deviating.

The plan was set into motion. Everyone is where they need to be, which is not where they should be right now when things have gone up in motherfucking smoke.

Dan and the guys are at the preplanned spot, and not where I need them.

“Fuck no.”

I knew there was something off about that goddamn prospect. From the moment that little cocksucker showed up, I felt it. Fuck, I
knew
it. He was just too fucking complacent, happy to take the shit we dealt. He was just too there and too willing.

I should’ve listened to my goddamn gut.

Glancing at my phone, I watch the little dot traveling north when it should be traveling west. That little fucker was just too eager to be the one to do the drop off.

I feel fucking sick to my stomach.

“How you wanna play this?” T asks, sitting next to me in the cab of my truck. The roads are too snow covered and iced over to take the bikes. We’re stuck in a cage.

“I’m gonna kill him.”

“Dan gonna be okay with that?”

I don’t give a fuck what Dan is good with at this point. This is
his
fractured plan. A plan that’s putting Ellison in the thick of something she has no business being a part of.

“Get ahold of Dan, let him know his plan has changed.”

“Already it on it, brother.”

“I can’t believe
that motherfucker, pullin’ this shit. He’s gotta be stupid.”

“Brother, you know what’s happenin’ don’t ya?” T asks.

“Yeah. He’s a fuckin’ mole.” 

When you prospect, you’re pledging your life for a club,
my
club. It might be a trial run to see if you’ll fit in, but it’s a goddamn life sentence unless
we
let you go. He fucked up while wearing that prospect patch, and I don’t give a fuck what anyone’s gotta say about it, he’s gonna pay for his mistake.

“I don’t give a fuck what anyone’s gotta say. You see him, you kill him, or I will.”

“Yeah, brother. One right between the eyes.”

***

We follow the little blue blip about twenty miles in the opposite direction we had planned. Any backup or help is thirty minutes in the opposite direction. Right now, it’s just Tyler and me, and that’s not gonna work if this goes the way I think it’s gonna go.

“Park it. We walk in.”

“You sure about that? Out in the open?” I question him. We’ll be some sitting ducks out in the open like that.

“You rather we take a chance ‘n have ‘em hear us comin’? They’ll take off with her.” Walking it is.

We leave my truck on an old locked logging road. Walking in about a quarter of a mile, I follow the blue blip on my phone. Service is spotty, but I’ve got an idea where we’re going.

“Has the dot moved?”

“Nah. It’s still sittin’.” Wherever the soon-to-be dead prospect has taken her, they’re stayin’ put so far. Good news for T and me.

Through a small gap in the brush and trees, I catch a look at the car the prospect left in.

“There.” I stop T with a hand across his chest. “Right there.”              

“The fuck is he doin’?” he whispers, watching the car.

The car is just sitting in an open field in front of a small rusted out metal building. It’s on the Raiders or Ryders new or old club, so I don’t have a fucking clue what he’s doing out here with her.

“Is it possible he’s rouge?” T wonders out loud. It’s something that’s crossed my mind, but makes no damn sense. Why Ellison? What the fuck would he gain from taking her?

“No.” My gut is telling me he’s working with the enemy.

“No.”

Watching the car for a minute or two, I finally see movement. Someone’s still in the driver’s seat. Another body catches my attention.

Michael.

“Run up on ‘em?” I ask T, already pulling my gun and screwing on the silencer.

“Do it quick.” The silencer might cut the noise for the most part, but out here in the dead quiet, you still might hear something. We have to be fast because I don’t have a single fucking clue what or who is in that rusted building.

Handing the gun to T, he nods.

Across the small clearing, I round the car at the same time T does with his gun drawn. Michael turns the moment I step up behind him.

Face to motherfucking face.

I don’t give him a chance to do a goddamn thing.              

Shoving the seven-inch Bowie into his pliable gut, he jerks as he falls towards me. “Fuck you,” I tell him quietly, twisting the knife. Satisfaction is the fear in his eyes as push in deeper. “That’s for fucking with Ellison.”

Pushing Michael away from me, he falls to his knees, his body shaking before he’s on the ground on his side.

I feel so goddamn good.

I don’t want to feel good about it, but I do. So fucking good. Michael was my best friend until he joined the Raiders. Wanna know what his final job as a prospect was? Raping my little sister to fuck with me. Left her bloody and scarred on my doorstep years ago, something no one knows, net even El. I don’t like Jess, and the bitch is fucked in the head, but it’s his goddamn fault she is the way she is. No matter what, she’s my blood, my sister. He’s been fucking with El too. Using her and fucking with her head, and the shit stops with her. That’s
my
girl he’s messing with.

There’s not enough space on this Earth for scum like him.

Old friend or not, Ellison’s brother or not, the motherfucker had to go.

T’s on the prospect the second I got my hands on Michael.

Streaks of blood drip down the window. His holey head sags, slumped over against the glass.

We don’t have time to celebrate or give a fuck, because someone is shouting from the trunk, beating on the roof from the inside.

Tyler’s head whips around and we both stare at the trunk.

Fucking shit.

I don’t want to, but I have to. Wrenching the door open, I step back as the bloody prospect falls out, head first onto the ground. “Jesus.”  Reaching in, I pull the trunk latch. The thing pops open.

“Oh fuck,” T breathes, both of us going for the trunk.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Ellison’s big red-rimmed eyes stare up at me. “It’s been a horrible fucking month,” she mutters around a broken sob. Her humor dies when she sees me. Her tears immediately start to fall, and regret starts eating at me.

“Baby.”

Wrapping my arms around her, I pull her to me, as close as I can get her, to shield her from the bloody mess by the front of the car.

“Are you okay?” I ask her, checking every inch of her.

Guilt. It’s everywhere.

“I think so.”

“I’m sorry. So fucking sorry.” Kissing her head, I breathe her in for a second to reassure myself that she’s alive.

“It’s okay,” she whimpers into my chest. But it’s not. It’s
not
fucking okay

Holding on to her, I walk her towards the edge of the trees, behind the thick of bushes, ready to get the fuck outta here when T stops me.

“Rock, man, this ain’t gonna work.” It’s in his voice. I stop and look up to see two Ryders walking towards the car, their eyes trained on the dead prospect and Michael, guns in hand.

We’ve only got minutes.

I thought this shit couldn’t get any worse, but it just did.

“Oh my God.” Ellison starts to shake, her eyes wide and scared. “Rocky?” Her eyes are glued to the prospect and the motherfucker’s not wearing Disciples cuts.

I have two choices. Either shoot and hope we can outrun the rest, because where there are two Ryders, there are more. Or send Ellison running alone and hope like fuck T and me are enough to keep them distracted long enough for her to make it to the truck. Either way, there’s gonna be bodies, and as long as Ellison’s isn’t one of them, I can figure out the rest.

It’s time I live up to all of those promises I’ve made her.

“Ellison, look at me.” I need her attention, her full attention. This shit is real, as real as it gets.

She looks up at me slowly, her eyes full of tears again. I know what I have to tell is the last thread. Things are gonna start to unravel, but I’ve got faith in her. She can handle it.

“You’ve gotta go, Ellison. Right now.” Her head starts shaking before I get the words out. She’s already disagreeing with me.

“I can’t leave you here,” she whispers, horror in her voice.

“It’s me or you, baby,” I tell her softly, easing the blow of my words. There can’t be both of us, not right now.

“Come with me,” she pleads, tugging me towards the old logging road. Looking at T, she starts pulling on him too. “Both of you. We can outrun them. They haven’t—”

“You have to go, and I can’t come.” I watch all hope die in her eyes. She knows.

Shaking her head harder, she declares, “It’s me
and
you, Rocky. I can’t leave you here with them and live with myself if I do.”

“Things have changed.” There’s no going back now.

“Rock,” she whispers, pleading.

“Ellison, just go,” T begs, pushing her away from me. My heart physically hurts watching her hang onto me, so unsure and scared. Tears roll down her cheeks like a waterfall. She’s breaking my fucking heart.

“Come on. Don’t be fuckin’ stupid,” she growls, pulling on my arm again.

“No, babe,” I tell her sadly.

Looking up, I catch sight of more guys in cuts filing out of the building, and they’re all heading our way.

“Get her outta here,” T says, his gun aimed across the clearing, pointed at a guy aiming right for T’s head.

We’ve been spotted. 

FUCK!

“Yes, Rocky! It’s you and me
,”
she yells, planting a fist on my chest.

How do I explain to her that love is never sacrificed, it’s always saved. Those gutless promises that we’ve made for years are nothing but words. Worthless, empty words.

“No. It’s me
or
you, and you fucking know I’ll always pick you.” There’s no question.

Ellison

Shoving the keys into my hand, Rock turns me away from him, my hands slip from his and I feel panic claw at my chest. No. My feet drag in the dirt, not wanting to move. I’m rooted. Stuck.

“Go!” Rock yells, his voice hoarse and angry…so angry. “Now, Ellison! Get in the truck and get the fuck outta here.”

I don’t want to let him go. I
can’t
let him go.

“Rocky,” I plead again. There’s an expression on his face I’ve never seen before, and it looks a lot like fear. How? The man fears nothing.

“GO!”

Time feels like it’s standing still, blurring by around us.

“Don’t look back. Don’t stop, baby.”

I turn to leave, but make it nowhere. Looking back, Rock is watching me go as he walks backwards, towards the group of men, a gun in his hand.

There’s silence as we both stare at each other. I can feel the warm tears rolling down my cheeks. My nose is cold and my lips are blue, but I can’t move.

“Go,” he whispers, turning around.

Please
.

He’s walking away from me. His hands are out in front of him, the gun limp. A guy with a gun laughs and looks at his buddy who’s laughing too. They’re laughing at Rocky.

Rock and Tyler stand about five feet in front of the men before the guy with the gun points it at T and shoots him, hitting him in the leg. The blood rushes to my ears and I sway. Blood instantly stains his jeans, running into his boot. Tyler goes down onto his knees. My hand flies to my lips, stifling the sickened yelp threatening to come out.