Page 52 of Won't Let Go
“There are two left,” I whisper-shout to Pixie as a police douche gets on a loudspeaker and orders the men to stand down, which they won’t. That’s not how this works. Had the cops ignored whatever call they got, they could’ve left this up to the Sacred Sinners to handle, which would have meant a lot less paperwork for them and questioning for the brothers.
What a shitshow.
From the looks of this place, we won’t be tattooing here for a long while.
“Do you have a shot?” Pix whisper-shouts back.
“Not a clear one.” Duck walking around the front of the counter, I crouch behind a toppled-over chair in the waiting area and accidentally step on a severed finger. I nearly scream as it squishes under my boot. Covering my mouth, I stifle a gag and nudge it to the side. It rolls a little, but not far enough.
Gross.
When the police stop yapping, the masked men hiding behind a van turn to find the other guy dead, along with the rest of their comrades the brothers must have killed. One of them, with his gun raised, stalks closer. I don’t wait for him to see mewhen I unload my entire clip. Bullets hit him, the van, and out of nowhere, all hell breaks loose. Men in vests rush in. Not the cops. Bikers. Just as the asshole I shot drops to his knees, the last one is taken out by Big with a bullet to the head.
And it’s over… Just like that.
I’m still alive.
Sagging to the floor, I drop my gun, cover my face, and cry.
17
WHITE BOY
Pacingthe waiting area in the police station, I wear a hole through their cheap linoleum. Where the fuck is Jade? Why haven’t they released her yet? She didn’t do anything wrong. Her gun is registered. She killed three men, so the hell what? This is a clear case of self-defense.
The silent alarm went off at the shop just as I was visiting Hunter. Everyone was on their bikes and on the road within seconds. I don’t remember much. It was a damn blur of adrenaline and fear. Rolling up to find the windows shot out and no hostages, I swore they were all dead. Hell, all of them are, except Pixie and Jade. Closed casket dead. Multiple body parts in bags, dead. What a fucking waste.
Big tried to talk the dickheads down. When that didn’t work, we did what we do—mowed them to the ground and worried about the consequences later.
The consequences? Jade and Pixie’s interrogations to find out what the fuck happened. Sure, we have camera footage from the shop, but we’re not handing it over to anyone. As far asthey’re concerned, these were some common thieves looking to score an easy payday and ended up fucking with the wrong shop. That’s our story, anyhow. Do they buy it? Nope. Can they prove otherwise? Also, no. The cops around here know they shouldn’t go sniffing where they don’t belong, or they’re liable to end up in a war they want no part in.
Gunz is back at the compound right now, trying to figure out what went down. This was sloppy, even for Remy, which makes me wonder if it was an initiation game into his sick world of human trafficking. Or worse, the first of many hits to come. It’s been quiet for a while now, even though we’ve increased security. Apparently, not enough if these assholes made it to the shop where our women work, and we were none the wiser. We usually have someone there for protection, but today of all days, Axel just so happened to get a haircut when he was supposed to be keeping an eye on the women. Coincidence? I think not.
Speaking of Axel, he shoves the front door open to the station and jerks his head for me to follow him outside. On the front steps, five of us huddle round.
“Anything yet?” I ask Oz, Gunz’s boy, and our current Sacred Sinner prospect.
“No. But until further notice, everyone’s living on the compound again.” He looks at me, the only one of us this will affect.
I get it. My woman not only killed three men today, but she’s no longer safe at home. That means I’m gonna need an escort to pack our things. Looks like Hunter gets his wish. We’re moving onto the compound. Unfortunately, all the houses are taken, and my room ain’t big enough for the three of us. That means he gets to bunk somewhere else. Debbie’s got teenage boys. I’m sure we can figure something out.
As Oz and Axel go over the details about what we know and all that shit, I flex my hands down at my sides. I need to fight. Tokill something. To… fuck if I know. I haven’t even touched her yet. After an EMT checked out Jade and Pix, they were sent on their way with the cops for questioning. That was hours ago—too many hours. I need to see her.
“Do we need to get our lawyer involved?” I cut in, not paying a lick of attention to what the brothers are talking about.
Hands tucked in his front pockets, Dallas shakes his head. “No. We’re solid. Blimp’s lady friend texted to let him know all is good on the inside. She’s looking out for our women.”
“And the rest of us?” I check, worried we’re next on their radar, after they finish harassing women who were just put through hell.
Oz clasps me on the shoulder. “The cops didn’t see nothin’. Right?”
Heaving a sigh of relief, I nod. “Right.” If they had, Prez would be locked up for pulling a trigger at point-blank range, into a fucker’s skull, who had just given himself up.
“Are they running cleanup, or are we?” I ask, referring to whatever has been leaked online that needs to be squashed before any major media outlets catch wind, as well as the collection of bodies that needs to be disposed of.
“We are,” Dallas confirms. “Sunshine and Angel are already on their way. Gunz has everything else handled.”
Thank fuck.
