Page 124 of The Heart We Guard
Even over the noise of action in the clubhouse, through the phone, I hear the unmistakable roar of a crash and the screams of my girls.
“Goddammit,” I roar. My heart jackhammers in my chest uncontrollably as I pull up Greer’s location tracker on my phone and see that she’s in a field off the side of the road. “Let’s go. And if the bastard who did this is still breathing when we find him, he won’t be by the time we’re done.”
My life is in that goddamn truck. The family I finally earned. The one I wanted to love.
It’s my only thought as I grab my weapons and run to my bike.
“I’m going to kill them,” Atom shouts as he runs.
Motorcycle engines fire to life like a battle cry. Thunder rolls across the parking lot. And we ride to the wreckage as one.
But I lead.
I may have been about to tell this club I love that I’m stepping down, but, for now, I’m still its president. And that’s my old lady, my children, and my grandkid the fucker is going after.
Despite the risk and the rain, we hug the road, caressing every fucking curve, knees to the ground as we travel at speed. I smell the smoke before I see it. The stench of burnt rubber and oil and gasoline.
In a clearing between the trees, I glimpse the truck on its roof, smoke rising from the rear and steam spewing from the crumpled hood. It’s all I can do to stop my thoughts from spiraling.
Are they still in it?
Is it on fire?
Are they already dead?
But as I get closer, I can see Greer, crouched by the driver’s door. From her stance, I’d say she’s got Ember’s gun in her hand, which means, my daughter is still inside.
I have to swallow the nausea that rises in my gut.
She’s protecting my daughter, even though she doesn’t know one end of a gun from another.
Atom must come to the same conclusion, because, although my bike is fast, his is faster. And ignoring all protocols, he races up next to me, then pulls ahead slowly.
One of the fuckers hides behind his opened truck door as he fires, and Greer ducks. If he kills her, there isn’t a single place on earth he can hide.
My relationship with Greer began because I didn’t want to go to prison. But for her, I’d go to death row without a single blot on my conscience.
There is nothing quiet about our pending arrival, and I see the moment they hear us. Both look up and over, and Greer sinks to the ground.
In tears.
In relief.
When I’m close enough, I see Gauge, and I’ve never wanted to rip a man’s skull from his head so badly.
He takes another step towards Greer, as if calculating whether he has time to grab her before we get there. The crack of bullets sounds across the plain.
Greer curls into a ball and attempts to wiggle back through the driver’s window.
I can’t see Ember at all.
But I need to focus on one thing.
I divert onto the field they’ve rolled into, practically skidding down the embankment with rivers of water pouring down on it. Branches tear at my arms, but I don’t care. All I can see is the wreckage, my terrified woman, and the absolute stillness inside the truck that tells me Ember isn’t moving.
The field is furrowed. Recently plowed. Almost impossible to ride on. My front tire slots into a ridge, but I’m still moving forward.
Once I’m close enough, I throw my bike to the ground, reach for my weapon, and open fire.
