Chapter 24
Makenna
I sat on the bed, my hair dripping wet from the shower I’d taken. I couldn’t believe how stupid I had been. Why in the world did I think things could be okay between myself and a man like Brewer? He couldn’t even tell me what he was getting into! I couldn’t have my daughter around someone like that! I wanted to punch a wall before crying into it. I wanted to kick a chair before flopping down and sobbing into its cushions. I needed to go to sleep and get my mind back into ‘mom mode’. I needed to take Mrs. Reinhart up on her offer for wine tomorrow and show up bright and early.
I had to tuck away the woman in me and get back to focusing on my daughter.
My brow furrowed at a sound emanating in the distance. What was that? The dull roar grew louder and the windows on my house began to shake.
Were those… motorcycles?
I snickered. Of course, Brewer would call his little buddies to come comfort him in his time of need. They were probably going to drink before going to tag some houses or something. Pathetic. Men needed to grow the hell up. The sound grew louder. So loud I couldn’t hear myself think. So, I bounded downstairs and readied myself to yell at them from my porch. Some people still wanted to sleep. Not everyone could ride around on bikes without a care in the damn world about anyone else.
I needed to get sleep so I could go be a mother for the rest of my life.
I pulled back the curtain in my living room and watched the motorcycles pull up into Brewer’s driveway. I saw six or seven men get off their bikes and walk up to his porch. I readied myself to go out there and tell them to get the hell out of the neighborhood so we could all sleep, but the sound of yelling caught my ear.
I couldn’t tell what they were saying, but I knew it wasn’t good.
I rushed to another window to get a better look at what was going on. I took stock of the leather cuts the men were wearing, and they weren’t the same as Brewer’s vest. These were navy with an emblem on the back that wasn’t a skull. It looked like a horse. Or maybe a saddle. A saddle on a horse?
It wasn’t until one of them brandished a gun, however, that I knew Brewer was in trouble.
I watched as they pulled down ski masks and kick the door in of his house as I slapped my hand across my face. I ducked down and pressed myself against the wall of my house as tears welled in my eyes. Those weren’t Brewer’s friends.
The yelling grew and things began to crash down, and I didn’t know what to do.
I peeked my head back up and saw one guy on the porch. He held two guns at his sides, swiveling his head in all directions. I ducked down every time he turned my way, hoping he wouldn’t see me. My hands shook and my stomach cramped with fear as tears streamed down my face. I wanted to run over there and help him. I wanted to find a way to get him out of there. No matter what Brewer was tied up in with his crew, no one deserved to be rushed by six men with guns.
I had to call the police.
No. If I called the police, they would probably arrest him as well. I didn’t want that. Brewer didn’t deserve it. I was angry with him and upset at his secretive ways, but the man didn’t deserve to go to prison. But the police would stereotype him if I called. They’d think he did something to provoke this other crew or gang or group or whatever.
Skinned and Skulled.
The name of his mechanic shop ran through my mind.
We have a web page.
It was the only shot I had at getting in touch with someone that could help Brewer.
I ran back up the stairs and burst into my room. The commotion next door was growing louder and part of me worried I was too late. I opened my phone and began typing in the name of his mechanic shop, then dialed the only number that popped up for it. Then I put the phone to my ear and ran back downstairs to get a good look at what was still going on.
Then, a gunshot popped off.
“Ah!”
“Hello?”
My hand was trembling as I pressed the phone to my shoulder.
“Skinned and Skulled. You there?”
“Hi. Hello. I uh, m-... my name is Makenna, and-”
“Did you say ‘Makenna’?”
I furrowed my brow as another gunshot rang out.
“Oh my god!”
“Makenna, my name is Rock. I’m a friend of Brewer’s. Are you okay?” he asked.
“I am. He’s not,” I said.
“What’s going on?”
Another gunshot roared through the air as I sat in the corner, trembling and fearing for Brewer’s life.
“There were guys that came up the street. Wearing, um… navy vests with, like… a horse or something on it.”
“Shit,” he said. “We’re on our way right now. What are they doing?”
“They went into his house and now they’re shooting?” I said breathlessly.
“Is Ana with you?”
I furrowed my brow as I curled deeper into myself.
“How do you know-?”
“Answer the question, Makenna. Is Ana with you?” Rock asked.
“No. She’s um… she’s at a sleepover.”
“Good. Stay low and don’t let them see you. The guys and I are getting on our bikes now. Don’t open your door for anyone, do you hear me?”
I nodded my head before I realized I needed to say it.
“Yes,” I said with a whisper. “I hear you.”
“Stay on the phone with me,” I said. “I’m gonna keep you on here until we start coming up the road. Do you know how many men there are?”
“Six. Maybe seven? One’s standing on the porch with two guns in his hand.”
“Good. Okay. I’ll send a couple of guys around the back of his house then. You’re not in Brewer’s house, are you?” he asked.
Guilt pooled in my gut.
Maybe I should’ve been.
“No,” I said. “I’m not.”
I chanced a peek out the window. I heard motorcycles revving in my ear, but I couldn’t hear them coming up the road. How far out where they? What did these men want with Brewer? Who were they and what were they looking for?”
“Rock?” I asked.
“What’s up?”
“That guy isn’t on the porch anymore,” I said.
“Stay down, Makenna. Brewer’s gonna kill me if something happens to you.”
“Why?”
I heard him chuckle through the phone, but he didn’t answer the question.
“Do you see him anywhere? Since you’ve decided to be brave.”
“I don’t,” I said. “Maybe he went back in the house.”
I heard more shouting, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying.
“They’re yelling in the house,” I said.
“You go that way. We’ll pull up into his driveway,” Rock said.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing. Talking to the guys. You said they’re yelling. Do you know what they’re saying?”
“No. I can’t make it out. But none of them sound like Brewer. Please hurry. I don’t-”
I clamped down onto my jaw to keep from speaking the words. I couldn’t put them out there. I had no right to after calling him a mistake.
After calling us a mistake.
“We don’t either,” Rock said. “We’re less than thirty seconds out. You should see us coming up the road anytime now.”
Then, as if the heavens had opened up and dropped down a group of fallen angels, I heard the roaring of motorcycles coming up the road.
And I recognized the emblem on the backs of their jackets.