Page 72 of Spyder
“How do you figure that?”
“Those men you killed that day in the lodge? The men you killed here? My men? What? You don’t think they’ve got friends and family that are gonna come lookin’ for you even after I’m dead?” Zavala says with an evil chuckle. “You think you can kill without consequence? You believe that, you’re stupider than I thought you were.”
“Your men took somebody. One of ours. Your men too, my girl. You assholes started this war. Not us,” Monk says, his voice tight with anger.
Zavala shrugged. “Doesn’t matter who started it. The point is the war’s started. And taking me out ain’t gonna change that.”
“I’m tired of listenin’ to this punk,” Doc says. “Do it.”
Zavala smirks. “When the blood is flowin’ in your town and people are dyin’ left and right, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Prophet looks down at him for a long moment, then steps forward and without warning, presses the barrel of his sidearm against Zavala’s head and pulls the trigger. The shot echoes around the barren landscape and Zavala’s limp body falls over, hitting the ground with a meaty thud. I watch the blood and viscera spilling out of the massive exit wound in the back of his head, letting the realization that it’s really over sink into my mind. Savor it. I look around and see everybody else seems to be doing the same thing. It’s really over.
But a cold chill runs through me as I play his last words in my mind over and over again as I ask myself—is it really over? Or will this just be a case of a butterfly effect… our actions here, and everything leading up to tonight’s fight, touching off a chain reaction of events that lead to even more blood-soaked misery?
I give my head a shake, trying to push those morose thoughts from my mind. I can’t predict what’s going to happen in the future. All I can do is live in the now. And right now, we’ve beaten Zavala and torn down his empire. Yeah, somebody else will rise up to fill the void, but it’s entirely possible they’ll look to the north and decide taking us head up just isn’t worth it.
I’ve got a life to live and I don’t want to spend it looking over my shoulder or fearing every bump in the night. I want to live it. Enjoy it. Cherish it. After all, I’ve got somebody pretty great to live for now.
“Okay, let’s burn down the warehouse,” Prophet says as he finally tears his eyes away from the body of Miguel Zavala. “Let’s wipe out any trace—”
“I have an idea about that, prez,” I say. “I think we can do something better with it than just burning it down.”
“What do you have in mind?”
A grin crosses my face as I tell him what I’m thinking. It’s a plan that might just earn us a little more slack and goodwill around town. And frankly, we can never have too many markers we can call in when needed.
Epilogue
Bellamy
It’s been two weeks since I was discharged from the hospital and though I’m still pretty banged up, I’m moving around a lot better than I was. I’m feeling a lot better. I think part of the healing process is being helped by the fact that Derek came back to me alive and in one piece. Well… mostly in one piece, anyway.
When I saw the wound on his shoulder, of course, I freaked out. I mean, he’d been shot. But the guy in his club, Doc, had taken good care of him. He’d gotten the bullet out of his shoulder and patched him up. His arm is in a sling now like my body, but according to Doc, Derek’s healing nicely as well.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Derek asks.
I give him a smile. “Just reflecting on how things have turned out. How… good… things are.”
He matches my smile. “Yeah. They are pretty good, aren’t they?”
“I’d say so.”
Derek was there when I was discharged to take me home. And he’s pretty much moved into my mom’s place and has been waiting on us hand and foot ever since. He’s cooked, cleaned, and catered to my every wish and desire. I can’t even begin to tell him how much I appreciate it. But when my body is one-hundred percent again, I plan on showing him.
I turn my face up to the sun, letting its rays warm my skin, relishing the beautiful, unseasonably warm afternoon. We’re at the Pharaohs’ compound, having a big barbecue to celebrate the fact that Zavala and his cartel are dead. Gone. And they’ll never bother us again. Maybe we’re celebrating the fact that Blue Rock Bay, and everybody living within town borders, is once again safe and secure.
I’ve met most of everybody in the MC and far from being the gruff and stereotypical biker thugs some people insist they are, most of them are pretty well-spoken overall. And they’ve all been nothing but kind to me. They may be a little rough around the edges, but they’ve all been gentlemen. They’ve got great senses of humor, and they’ve all really made me feel welcomed. They make me feel like I’m a part of the club now.
I lean my head down on Derek’s shoulder, looking out over the compound yard, listening to the music playing loudly, I smile. Some of the guys brought their families and I’m enjoying watching the kids run around, laughing and giggling with each other. Derek looks over at me and grins as if he’s reading my mind.
“You can hit the snooze button on that biological clock,” he says with a laugh.
“Trust me, it’s on pause,” I reply. “For now, anyway.”
He leans over and gives me a small kiss and a smile. The love between the two of us has flourished beyond my wildest dreams. He makes me feel valued. Treasured. He makes me feel like a queen. I can only hope I’ve made him feel half as cherished as he makes me feel.
“Life is a funny, strange thing,” I say.
