Page 65 of Bully's Darkness
The roar of bike engines slices through the night like a battle cry.
We ride in formation, tight, controlled, lethal. Boss leads up front, rigid like stone, his patch gleaming under the moonlight. I ride just behind him, black hoodie pulled up beneath my kutte, jaw clenched, fists tight around the grips. Behind me, Taz, Ragnar, Brains, and Smiler ride staggered, the weight of war heavy across their shoulders.
Stretch is tail gunner, riding anchor with a sawn-off slung across his chest. Eyes on mirrors, always watching our six. And somewhere trailing behind is Tally in the van, carrying everything we’ll need to end this tonight.
Nobody talks.
The only sound is the deep, unified thunder of Harley engines tearing across the asphalt. We’re ghosts in the dark,death on wheels.
As the bar comes into view, a flicker of yellow neon buzzing weakly against the gloom, Boss raises his fist. Every rider knows what that means—slow down, get ready.
We don’t brake gently. We don’t roll in unannounced. They need to hear us and know they’re about to die. We kill the engines, a collective screech of tyres eating the gravel as we line up outside. One after the other, we dismount, our boots hitting the road heavy. Tally swings the van door open and begins throwing out weapons. I grab the M249. This belt-fed monster doesn’t politely knock—it rips the door off the fucking hinges.
The music inside stops, and it brings a smile to my lips. They’ve heard us. “Light it up,” I order.
Then, hell breaks loose.
I squeeze the trigger, unleashing fury. The front wall of the bar explodes in splinters and screams as bullets punch through timber and bodies alike. Windows shatter and bottles burst, cascading down the walls mixed with blood.
We move forward, giving no room for them to come back at us. And once we’re inside, Dagger’s remaining men scramble around, some ducking behind tables but most don’t even get that far.
Brains and Taz move in beside me, each armed with ARs, mowing down anything that breathes and doesn’t wear a Bastards patch. Ragnar kicks in the side door, tossing in a stun grenade. The boom shakes the floorboards, and the strobe of light blinds anyone left standing.Boss moves in clean and brutal, shotgun in one hand, axe in the other. Smiler, grinning like his namesake, follows, picking off stragglers with deadly precision, never missing a shot. The floor’s already slick with blood and glass. Bodies are left twitching, moaning, and gurgling.
Stretch and Tally guard the perimeter. Any poor bastard thinking of running will get dropped before he makes it to the road.
When I’m certain everything is still, I hold up my hand and the gunfire stops. My ears ring with it as I scan the room for any movement. “Start turning over bodies,” I order. “I need to see him for myself.” And as my men move around, doing as I’ve asked, I pull out my mobile and check on Liv’s location, just in case she’s decided to sneak out and join her sister. When I see she’s still at home, I relax, tucking it way again.
“Pres,” calls Taz, “he ain’t here.”
I frown. “What?”
“There’s no sign of Dagger. We’ve checked every man. There are eighteen bodies. That leaves Dagger unaccounted for.”
Anger pulsates through me. “Why wouldn’t he fucking be here? Lila was his old lady.”
Boss slaps me on the back. “I know you want him, Pres, but without his club, he’s nothing. It’s only a matter of time before we catch up with him.”
“We need to get Liv to the club,” I snap. “Once he knows about this, she’ll be his target.”
“You want me to send the prospects to get her?” asks Taz.
I laugh. “Nah, she’ll give them hell. I’m gonna have to throw her over my shoulder for this one.” I hand my gun to Boss. “Burn this place to the ground. The police aren’t responding ‘til smoke goes up, so the second you light it, get the hell out of here.”
Olivia
“Liv,” Bria calls, shaking me, “answer me.”
My eyes find hers, swollen red from crying. I have no tears. They’re all gone. She glances at my chest. “You’re bleeding,” she whispers, and suddenly, pain burns the spot, like her seeing it is a reminder that it hurts. “We need to call the club.”
I slide my eyes to where Dagger is lying on his back, the knife sticking out from his eye like it’s mocking me. A sob escapes me, and I slap a hand over my mouth. “Is he dead?” I whisper,my voice strained. She nods, slow and careful, like she’s terrified of my reaction. “He was going to . . .” I sob harder. “I had no choice.”
She grips the tops of my arms, nodding. “It’s okay. I believe you. Bully can make this go away.”
I shake my head. “No. I have to call the police. When I tell them what happened, they’ll understand. It was self-defence.”
“Listen to me, Liv,” she says sternly, and I wait for her words. “You’re going to do what I say now, okay?” I nod. “Go and shower. I’m going to call Bully. Let’s get this mess cleared up.” I’ve never seen her so calm, so I find myself pushing to stand. She places herself between me and Dagger, like I haven’t already got his image burned into my brain. I shudder.
I stay under the hot spray of the shower until the bathroom is filled with steam, making it hard to see my hand in front of my face. It’s only when the door opens and Bully appears that I burst into tears. He throws his kutte over the sink then steps under the spray, wrapping his arms around me as I cry against his chest.
