Page 52 of DOG Part 2
8
Kane
There were onlytwo things we had going for us now. First, our rivals had not yet made their way to the back of the house so our bikes and the getaway vehicle we stored at each safe house weren’t hit. Second, we hated the police, but we were smart about leveraging their precinct locations when selecting the best safe houses. This one was the least ideal, sitting at less than eight minutes from the nearest precinct, but today, that fact gave us an advantage. It meant with this blatant daytime attack outside, they were probably already on their way here in full force. The Arroyos Bandidos had more ex-cons, exiled Mexicans and illegals as members, so there was no way they would stick around if the law showed up. It meant we had a chance to get out back, mount our hogs and make a run for it through the back alley. The only problem with that plan was I couldn’t risk putting Kim at the back of a bike at a time like this.
“I’m going to get Kim out first,” I told Deuce, looking him straight in the eye from our spots on the floor. “Is that Jeep still in the garage?”
“Yes. The keys are in it.”
“Okay. Can you hold them off to buy us some time? Distract them?”
Deuce nodded. “You know I can.”
“Good. Thanks, brother.” I clapped him on the shoulder before crawling over to Kim. “Follow me.”
When we got to the back door, I peeked out the window then we stood up. I ducked back down and found two of the bullet-proof vests we stored in a cabinet beside the door.
“Put this on,” I told her.
She did as she was told, and I grabbed her hand and pulled her outside, shielding her with my body in case there were Bandidos hiding outside, waiting to ambush us as we left through our only quiet escape route. Thankfully no one was there. Kim hesitated at first, but realized I wouldn’t let anything happen to her and allowed me to lead her to the garage. Behind me, Deuce yelled out orders at the others. His words were muffled over the din of gunfire.
Kim’s hand was shaking, and I gripped it tighter for a second before letting go. I tore open the door of the green Jeep and pushed her inside. The keys were in the ignition just like Deuce had said, and just as planned, my men’s return of gunfire ceased by the time I’d climbed into the driver’s seat.
The doorway we had come through was still open, and through it Deuce was visible. He was ducked beside the cabinet with the Kevlar vests, getting enough for the four of them. He caught my eye, then nodded his head and motioned toward the front of the house. The simple gesture was enough. It meant they would make an opening to help us leave out the front, as there really was no telling what might be waiting for us down the back alley.
“Keep your head down,” I told Kim.
I turned the key in this ignition, let the engine turn over, and reached out my window to hit the garage door button.
“You’re crazy!” she shouted. “We can’t go out there! They’ll shoot us.”
“Just keep your head down,” I said through gritted teeth, pushing my anger down. The plan to get our asses out of there would only work if it was executed with perfect timing, and I didn’t have time to stop and explain this to Kim.
Taking my cue, Deuce disappeared down the hall toward the living room. They resumed the shooting at our rivals, who were somewhere on the other side of the normally quiet street, mostly out of sight. I rolled the Jeep out slowly and lined it up so I could make a straight run along the driveway. Sunlight glinted off a pair of sunglasses behind a thick tree trunk, but that was all I saw before gripping the steering wheel and hitting the gas to speed up the side of the house and around the bend away from the Bandidos with everything I had.
I sped down the deserted street, tearing through a four-way stop sign without slowing down. Sirens sounded somewhere in the distance. I crossed my fingers that my men would make their escape before the police got there. I had faith that they could do it. Deuce was crafty. The best right-hand man I could ever hope for.
“You can sit up now,” I told Kim after a few minutes.
Slowly, she eased up, looking all around her with the fear of God in her eyes. The houses on both sides got smaller and further apart as we headed towards the outskirts of Tucson. The Santa Catalina foothills beckoned us in the distance, and so far, no one was following us.
“What in hell just happened?” she demanded.
“Turns out our safe house may not have been so safe after all.”
“What do you mean? How could they have found us there?”
“I don’t know, but this means I can’t take you to any of our other places now. Big Tom and Skate couldn’t have been followed. They’re too careful. That could only mean someone close to Rugged Angels may have given us away. That’s the only explanation.”
“What does that mean for me?”
I glanced over at her before saying, “We’re on the run for real now, Kim.”
She said nothing. She was probably digesting it. Either that or she was in shock. I relaxed my grip on the steering wheel as we got further away from town.
She turned to look at me. “What does ‘on the run for real’ even mean?” she asked, her voice anxious and shrill.
I continued to stare at the road in front of me. “Try to relax.”
