Hearts: Motorcycle Club Romance (Savage Saints MC Book 7) Page 17

  “Where’s Mama?” I shouted.

  Richard didn’t need to say a word. His face gave it all away.

  “Oh, fuck…”

  “We have no idea, Pork,” he said. “I’m as worried about you as you are. She charged into the entrance and hasn’t been seen since.”

  The entrance.

  I hurried over to the four bodies, furiously scanning their faces to see if any were Tanya. It felt kind of sick and fucked up to say I was relieved that none of them were—three of them I knew from the Las Vegas Saints, while the other was from California—but that was honestly how I felt right then. I’d atone for it later at the funerals.

  Right now, I had to fucking find Tanya.

  “They must have taken her,” I growled. “I don’t know how they got her past us, but they must have known that Scar would take her. I don’t… fuck!”

  “Pork!” Richard yelled. “You need to stay calm. You’re not gonna rescue Mama if you let your wits get away from you.”

  Let my wits get away from me.

  The fog of war is still in place. Do you want to fight it? Do you want to prevent it from happening? Or are you going to let it consume you like you did a few years ago?

  “Pork?”

  “I’m good,” I said. “But you’re going to have to lead me, Richard. If I do it, I’m going to do something stupid.”

  I hated that I was asking for help. I was a SEAL, and Richard wasn’t. I hated to admit that I could be weak, especially when it came to armed combat.

  But maybe this is what I needed. Frankly, if it saved Mama, I didn’t care if I turned into a groveling little bitch. I just wanted her rescued at whatever cost.

  “You got it, pal,” he said, patting my shoulder. “Come on. Take my rear.”

  I smiled and jogged with him, keeping an eye out for our six to make sure no one was thinking of ambushing us. We had plenty of Saints coming along now, but thankfully, the Sinners had appeared to make their strategy known. They’d fall back into the building as much as possible, hunkering down, while also protecting the perimeter. It felt like a kind of U-shaped strategy, where the front was open, but everything else was etched in, impossible to break.

  That strategy seemed doubly so when we got to the room I’d left before, where the four Saints now fought what seemed like fifteen Sinners. They could barely get a shot off without drawing fire. BK was even reduced to shooting blindly.

  At least, best that I could see, no one else was getting hit.

  “Wait,” Richard said.

  “Wait?”

  “We have to, Pork,” he said. “We go now, we’ll get mowed down. We have more allies coming. Just give it a second.”

  I looked back to see a dozen of our men join us in the ranks. Some of them had open wounds; some of them looked haggard and out of breath. All of them, though, looked ready to kill some Sinners and end this.

  “This is why you’re in charge,” I said.

  “No,” he said. “You put us here. I’m just carrying you home. You helped set this up.”

  He made a hand signal to Dom and Krispy, who asked for one second. They convened with BK and Barber for a few seconds, even as bullets continued to pour down on them, before Dom turned to us and began a countdown from five.

  “Guess we’re getting back into the battle,” I said, getting my gun ready.

  “Ready to kill some Sinners?”

  I snorted.

  “I’m ready to kill Scar.”

  Dom counted down to zero. All four of them, at once, turned around and fired, bravely facing into the teeth of fifteen Degenerate Sinners. Richard and I immediately moved into place, firing our weapons upon the enemy with unerring precision. Like flies facing bug spray, the enemy fell with ease. A couple of the others turned to face us, but by then, the rest of the Saints had gotten into the room, and what was once a cruelly unfair fight for the Saints turned into a rout of the Sinners.

  The whole thing transpired in the span of about six seconds, but it felt like an eternity given how time slowed as I fired my gun. Each bullet fired was a bullet that got me closer to Tanya; each bullet fired removed one less threat to the Savage Saints; each bullet fired eliminated a nuisance to Las Vegas.

  And then, like magic, the fog of war lifted.

  The enemy had been slaughtered. No more bullets fired.

  And we had the room.

  “Nice!” I yelled. “That’s how it’s done!”

  But then I heard a groan of pain… on our side.

  I looked over and saw Krispy lying against a crate, bleeding from the stomach. It did not look good—I’d seen similar wounds in Iraq, and it usually resulted in the man being dead within minutes.

  “Shit!”

  I hurried over, skidding to my knees, as BK tended to him, tearing off his clothing to make a tourniquet to try to stop the bleeding.

  “I’ll be fine,” Krispy said.

  “We’ll get you out of here,” I said. “We’ll find—”

  “I know, they’re working on it,” Krispy said. “Where is Mama?”

  I shook my head. No one else seemed to know where she was.

  “They’ll get me out. You go keep moving forward. Find her and kill Scar.”

  Krispy coughed up blood onto his pants and even onto BK’s arms. BK waved me off, and I stood. Goddamnit, Krispy, you better not die on me after all of this is said and done.

  “Go,” Richard said, pushing me forward. “I can see the last tunnel ahead. Scar’s probably back there. Go!”

  I didn’t waste any time. Behind me, I heard Dom following me, providing me some cover. Whatever happened now with Krispy was up to fate, God, whatever people wanted to believe in. Me? I just believed Krispy was a Savage Saint, and such saints didn’t die so easily.

  We both went up a flight of stairs, turned the corner, and found two Sinners waiting for us. I took out one with ease, and though Dom had to fire a couple of times to hit the second one, both fell. We turned another corner to see a door on the other side. It was by far the nicest door—and almost certainly the door that led to Scar.

  I hurried forward, charging at it. I had no intentions of opening it slowly.

  “Pork!” Dom shouted.

  But I had lost my self-control. I wanted to fly through the door, fly into Scar, shove him out a window, and watch him fall to his miserable fucking death. He deserved to suffer in much the same way that Tanya had when she was with him.

  I slammed into the door, knocking it off its hinges. I staggered for balance and regained control of myself.

  And then I saw him.

  And her.

  Scar had Tanya chained to a bed, her shirt torn off, down to only her bra and her jeans. He hovered over her, smirking at me. And, most importantly, he had a gun pointed at her head.

  “Has Prince Charming come to save his princess?” he scoffed. “Drop your gun.”

  There was no fucking chance I was doing that.

  “I said, drop your fucking gun! Both of you!”

  I didn’t turn back. I knew Dom was behind me.

  “Three, two—”

  I didn’t give Scar a chance to finish. As much as I wanted him to suffer, as much as he deserved to experience hell on Earth before he went to the actual hell, as much as he deserved the world’s greatest pain, I cared more about saving Tanya.

  With one clean bullet to the head, I killed Scar.

  I killed Tanya’s abusive former lover. I killed the monster that haunted her life. I killed the very man that prevented her from ever feeling fully at peace.

  The shot was clean, lodging right in his skull. His arm with the gun slumped forward, the barrel never coming across Tanya’s face or chest. Blood shot out from his head, and he crumpled forward.

  And just like that, Scar was gone.

  All three of us just stared wide-eyed at the corpse on the floor, blood oozing out of the body. All three of us, I think, were more than a little stunned that after years of torment… one single bullet had ende
d it.

  That was the funny thing about battles like this. People, including myself, envisioned majestic battles that encapsulated the struggle of humanity, of good versus evil. Yet, it only took a single bullet to kill some of humanity’s most evil people.

  And so it was here that despite everything I envisioned about a dramatic kill, one bullet in one second had saved countless lives.

  “Joseph,” Tanya said breathlessly.

  “Tanya,” I said. “It’s over. We won.”

  Chapter 20: Mama

  For years, I had never cried.

  Even in the privacy of my own house, away from everyone, away from even Richard, I did not cry. I couldn’t get away from myself, and my ego told me I couldn’t cry. To do so was to give Scar strength and power over me.

  But when I saw that Joseph had killed him and I saw that he had saved my life, I could not help myself. All of the years of holding back tears, all the years of being strong for everyone else, all of the years spent convincing myself that I was OK… I didn’t need to act that way anymore. The monster that had almost ruined me, had given me a child I lost, and had haunted my club, my family, was gone.

  I cried.

  I cried hysterically.

  I cried nearly fifteen years’ worth of tears right there.

  Joseph came over, broke the chains loose, and hugged me, and I still cried. I didn’t know if anyone else came in the room or if I had space, and I really couldn’t think to stop it. I just cried and cried and cried in the arms of the man who had saved me.

  The man, I realized, I loved.

  Because if love wasn’t removing the monster from your life, if love wasn’t putting your life on the line to make it happen, if love wasn’t doing whatever needed to be done to save someone, then love didn’t exist.

  But right there, in his arms, safe and secure, I could feel it. I could feel his love. That moment, more than any other one, made me believe in love.

  Guess I was more than willing to violate my only rule for myself about not falling in love with club members.

  “You’re OK,” Joseph whispered, kissing my cheek.

  It occurred to me he’d probably been saying that for some time now. I had been sobbing so hard and lost in my head that I hadn’t even realized Joseph was talking to me.

  I was pretty sure he’d forgive me.

  “Joseph,” I said, clawing at his cut, holding him as tight as I could. “I love you. Thank you. Thank you for saving me.”

  He ran his fingers through his hair, emitting a slow breath. I followed his lead, wanting to savor the moment, savor being in his arms. At some point, real life would take over. We’d have to collect ourselves, get back to the clubhouse, and reorganize. I wasn’t sure how many people died, but I knew of at least three of ours who had. Unfortunately, many more probably had as well.

  “I love you too, Tanya,” he said. “Thank you for giving me a chance. Thank you for letting me love you. I know that was not easy. But I am forever grateful that you gave me that shot.”

  I nodded, continuing to sob against his cut. The damn thing would have more tears than bloodstains on it before the end of the night. That’s what happens when you hold back your emotions and tears for as long as you have.

  But you can finally let it out.

  “It was easy with you, Joseph,” I said.

  That wasn’t true when we had started. It was going to be hard for anyone. But now, it was easy. It had taken someone with Joseph’s patience, understanding, and love for me to make it so we got to where it was easy to fall for him. And even then, like the night we had first had sex, there were difficulties.

  But now? It wasn’t like we had just dated for a couple of days. It was like I could look back on us over the last several years and see those moments—those moments of us sitting next to each other in our meetings—to realize just how well we got along. Even when I was peak Mama, slapping him for not being serious, I could see how he had craved it.

  “It’s easy with you as well, Tanya,” he said. “Can you move?”

  “Oh, yeah,” I said, finally coming out of his embrace. “Sorry. I’ve, just, it’s just been—”

  “Shh,” he said, helping me stand up and grab what was left of my clothes. “You’ve had a long, long night. You deserve as much rest as you can get.”

  I nodded.

  “What happened, anyway?”

  “I have no idea,” I said. “I was charging the front entrance, I turned, and my world went black. When I woke up, I was here. Scar tried to torture me and talk dirty to me, but I kept pushing back. It wasn’t until he heard the gunfire cease and you two come up here that he started to move more aggressively. If you’d been even a minute later…”

  “But we weren’t,” he said. “And you’re safe now.”

  Truer words had never been spoken.

  Putting my arm around him, I slowly moved forward, taking as much time as I could to walk. I wasn’t hurt, but I was definitely a bit traumatized. Granted, I’d avoided the worst of it, but that was far from saying that it was an experience I could just overcome.

  When we went down a flight of stairs, I had to take them one at a time. Thank God for Joseph being there; I think it would have taken the entirety of the Saints to get me out.

  When I turned the corner, I saw Richard, and only Richard, standing there.

  “Mama!” he said.

  He ran over to me and hugged me tightly. Joseph, recognizing the sibling-like bond we shared, stepped aside as he embraced me, kissing me on top of the head.

  “Are you OK? Did that fucker touch you?”

  “Nothing like that,” I said. “I’m fine. I mean, I’m not, but nothing terrible happened. I’m alive. Scar is dead. Joseph ended him.”

  Richard looked over, nodded, weakly said thanks, and then hugged and squeezed me again.

  “I’m just glad you’re alright, Mama.”

  “I am too,” I said. “Where’s everyone else?”

  “They took Krispy to the hospital,” Richard said. “Suffered some nasty wounds, but I hope he’ll be OK.”

  “Good,” I said.

  But it wasn’t good to have lost however many we did. At three and counting—almost certainly counting more—it was going to be a rough, rough number. Even one was too many.

  But, at the risk of sounding callous, the people I loved the most were alive. We were mostly unharmed. And the greatest monster to ever haunt our lives was gone.

  All in all, it was, thank heavens, a successful mission.

  * * *

  “We lost fifteen men,” Richard said.

  A day after the attack that all but ended the Degenerate Sinners, Trace stood with Richard, addressing everyone in our clubhouse. At this point, Trace and Richard were de facto representing one Savage Saints club as president. It was clear that he and his men would go home, but for the purposes of this joint mission, this was one club operating in two different cities, not two clubs sharing a name and a founding family.

  At the table, we sat in our usual formation, with Richard at the front, then Dom, Joseph, myself, and Barber in clockwise order. BK stood behind Barber.

  Krispy, amazingly from what I had heard, had survived. He would need about a a few surgeries before he would recover, but he would make it through, barring some unforeseen circumstances.

  “We are going to have to restock our numbers, and it will take time,” he said. “I have canceled the services of The Red Door tonight so that we can all have a day to mourn. We will resume on Saturday. In the interim, however, I want you all to use this opportunity to both remember those we have lost and to celebrate the end of the Degenerate Sinners. I want tonight to be a members-only event. No guests. No girls. Mama aside.”

  Some short chuckles broke out, but no one was ready to laugh out loud. All attention was still upon Richard and Trace.

  And besides, I had my fingers interlaced with Joseph’s. No one was going to confuse us for being anything other than together.

&nb
sp; “Spend some time talking. Spend some time laughing. Hell, do some shots for those we lost. But tonight, just focus on us. Here’s to the Savage Saints and to all who fell.”

  “Here, here!” everyone said, taking a shot that we had all placed before us or in our hands.

  I’d never partaken in anything that eliminated nearly half of our numbers. All the officers were still around, and so were Walker and a couple others, but otherwise, our ranks were decimated. Recruiting was going to be interesting; we hadn’t been this low since Richard and I had just started up the club.

  But with the Degenerate Sinners gone, it felt like we had a lifetime to do so.

  “You all are free to go or stay,” Richard said. “Whatever you need.”

  I looked at Joseph, gave him a squeeze of the hand, and smiled. Wherever we went, as long as we were together, we were happy.

  Barber and Dom began the initial breakup by going into the theatre to get drinks. That encouraged everyone else to go their separate ways, and soon, it was just Joseph and I seated.

  “What do you want to do?” he asked.

  I shrugged and smiled.

  “For once, I don’t want to be in charge,” I said. “It’s a bit of an exhausting job, you know.”

  Joseph chuckled. Then, before anything more could be said, Richard sat down next to us.

  “How are you doing, Mama?” he said. “You went through the worst of it.”

  “No,” I said. “Those who died went through the worst of it.”

  Richard, perhaps realizing he’d misspoken, bowed his head.

  “I meant of those of us who are still living,” he said. “You suffered from this for over a decade, Mama.”

  That was true. But in the span of just a couple of short weeks, Joseph had given me the path to healing. I wasn’t going to pretend that I was going to be better in a matter of days, weeks, or even months. There would be nights when I would hear Scar’s voice, feel his touch, or even see him in my nightmares.