Page 63 of Marx

“Pops and TumTum, don’t fire until I say the word.”

“Ten-four.”

Mad Dog, Vi and myself are off to the side in the kitchen. The butcher block island has been tipped on its side, and we’re all sitting behind it. Chef is in the front hall, Fox is further back in the house with Niko and Chewy, Blanche and Moss are in the dining room with Flack hidden away on the other side of the room. Mira is convinced that no killing will be done until after Renae has monologued about her evil plan, and I hope that’s true, because at this point my sister is a sitting duck in that room.

“SUVs, two minutes out.” Remy’s voice rings out. She’s in the kids hideout watching the footage from the twelve cameras we set up. Everything is being sent to Roman and his team who are waiting offsite somewhere.

“Eyes on,” Pops’ voice cuts in, and I can hear his excitement.

I try to stifle my smile, but at his age Pops should want a quiet retirement, not to be planning an ambush on the cartel. Doors slam, Mad Dog’s holding up fingers for every door he hears. One, two, three, four, then at least four more in quick succession. Doing the math and that perhaps three men were in the back of each vehicle, we could be looking at least ten people. Counting up those of us not in the bunker, it’s an even match. Although as Chewy pointed out, we have three older guys, and an injured man.

“Knock, knock!” a sweet voice with a cold edge calls out. “I’m looking for the Devil’s Rose MC, I heard I could find them all hereeeee.” High heels tap on the wood floors, then come to anabrupt stop. “Huh, I thought this was an MC and I’m looking at two women, and what are you? A cop of some type?”

“Something like that,” Moss’s deep voice says, sounding bored.

Silence rings out, and I’m not sure what’s happening, not until a loud, grating feminine laugh hits my ears. I shuffle to the side a little, managing to peek around the butcher block I’m stationed behind. From this angle I have a clear view of Chewy through the doorway into the dining room. Renae Sullivan comes into view every now and then, and so does a tall, gaunt looking Latino man. I’m guessing this is the infamous Serpiente.

“Oh, you must be Tuesday. I’ve heard all about you, you know.” High heels start click clacking on the floorboards again, this time as if she’s circling someone or something. “I heard you ‘saved’ my little girl.” Chewy’s face stays neutral, however I don’t miss her eyes snapping to Renae. “Don’t you think she has Tito’s eyes?” How Chewy keeps her bored expression I have no idea. The only way I can tell Renae’s words have affected her is by the tapping of her fingers, a more staccato beat than she uses when she’s plotting. “Don’t worry, me and Tito don’t want her back.” Chewy’s fingers stop abruptly, her hands curling into fists. “We just want what’s owed to us. When you took her it annoyed so many people, especially the sheik that paid for her. So, you can see our dilemma I’m sure.” Silence echoes through the room, Chewy’s gaze set on the wall behind Renae’s left shoulder. “If you reimburse us, with interest, wepromisewe won’t hurt you, right baby?” Renae says, looking at Serpiente with doe eyes.

Mad Dog and I share a look. In the words of Johnny, holy shit! Not only is Laney Renae and Serpiente’s child, but he’s here, with her in the house. Energy zings through my veins, if we can take them both out, we can put this whole thing to bed. We can be free of the cartels and all of it.

“That’s a generous offer,” Chewy says, “but I’ll have to decline. Oh, and I alsopromisethat I’ll hurt you so good you will be begging for death.” Even without seeing what’s happening I know that Chewy is smiling. “Inaianei,” Chewy says quietly.

Bullets ring out from outside in a flurry and I’m certain I hear engines and screeching tires before it all goes silent.

That hideous laughter rings out again, chilling me to the bone. “You’re going to regret that,” Renae hisses before all hell breaks loose.

Marx

I push my sled as far as she could safely go, the road disappearing under my tires as I push harder and harder to get home. I may not like the Russians, but they’ve never steered me wrong since we’ve had our understanding. They leave us alone, we leave them alone and every now and then we have a delicately balanced relationship where we all work together like good little boys. I mean, Roman is hardly going to turn on us when we do his dirty work, is he? That is why when Dima calls, I answer. If he’s ordered us home, then that’s where we need to be. That’s where my heart is, and if I find a hair on her head has been touched, there will be hell to pay.

My bluetooth beeps and I connect immediately when I see the caller ID. “Remy? What’s going on?”

“The farm has been ambushed by Serpiente. Renae Sullivan is with him, and more men than we calculated,” Remy rushes out.

“How many men?”

“Fifty, at least. We’re surrounded and are managing to hold them off, but we need backup!”

“What about the bratva?”

“We have as many as Roman could spare, the rest of his men were split between your team and the Landry team. We killed a few but there’s a crap ton more we need to get rid of.”

The bite in Remy’s voice surprises me. I know that she is as badass as every other woman, but it’s rare that you see it.

“We’re ten minutes out.”

A low growl comes over the line, “Tav and the others are twenty out. We need you here now Pres!”

The line goes dead and I push even harder, my men recognising the urgency and following my lead. We speed through town and I doubt anyone is going to stop us. Hell, if they haven’t been called out to a fucking farm house under siege, they ain’t pulling us over, goddamn pussy police force. I need to have a word with Moss. If the state ain’t willing to give us a good force, then I will.

By the time we hit the road leading to the farm house we’ve cut almost five minutes off our usual ride time. I know our sleds won’t be liking it but shit, it is what it is. We roar in, guns drawn picking out any men we see that we don’t recognise. Most of them are low level scumbags, baggy jeans, oversized hoodies, and rent-a-goons. I’m guessing these are the guys we were meant to be focussing on in the first place. Instead, they waited until we were lying in wait in their territory, and ambushed our women and children like the cowards they are. I let out a roar at how dumb we were to be splitting up, even though it was the right thing to do with the intel we had. But the intel waswrong and now we’re joining a battle where we are completely outnumbered, caught with our pants down. I don’t even know what the damage is yet.

My brothers and I take out as many men as we can before I get to the porch, throwing myself off my bike. The firefight has slowed down out here, but there are still gunshots and screams coming from inside the house. Pops’ house that he was so damn generous to provide for us. I hesitate at the bottom of the steps until some bastard I was unaware was coming at me, goes flying backward, my head snapping to the roof where TumTum salutes me.

“We’ve got you covered, go, go!” he screams before turning back to his site.

Looking at the roof space across from his I spy Pops’ nest, the old man perched up there like he’s king of all he sees. Stomping up the steps, I’m shoved out of the way by some guy running past, screaming as the hair on his head is covered in flames, encompassing his face, licking toward his throat.

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