Braxton

I curse, as I zip between cars. Heather has a head start on me and she’s in my Maserati. I have a feeling she’s gunning that shit. I watch in horror as an accident happens in front of me, almost in slow motion.

Traffic comes to a standstill and I’m locked in. “Fuck!” I roar.

* * *

Lucy

I’d been waiting at the apartment for her to come back, when Amanda came by again. I told her Heather was delayed, but she should check in daily. I don’t know how, but I knew he was the one. The moment I opened the door and saw his black eyes, I knew.

I was so afraid for Amanda, as he dragged her away. I know I should’ve gone to Braxton, but I was afraid he would turn me away. So I followed Amanda and her father home.

He beat them, he hit the woman with a club. No one tried to help them. All those men and not one tried to stop it. I could see into the house from the road.

I can’t believe no one did a thing. Not the neighbors, not the men, no one tried to help them. I was too frozen in shock to do anything. I feel so bed. I should’ve called someone.

“Well, I’m going to do something now,” I declare, pulling into the driveway.

I jump out of the car, my stomach in knots. The big guy at the door is too distracted by my open blouse and the tiny school girl skirt I have on. My red bra is on display, pushing up my breasts.

I had the outfit in my trunk from a photoshoot. This was the first thing I could think of. I still don’t know what I plan to do.

I blow a bubble, with the bubble gum I’m smacking. Seductively tittering in my red heels, I bat my lashes at him. The big guy grins down at my breast. I want to barf on his shoes.

“I think I have the right address. I’m here for a private party,” I give him a wink.

His grin grows. “Hold on, the boss is going to love this,” the buff buffoon says.

He rushes into the house, reappearing moments later. I smooth a hand over the red wig, hoping that it and the brown contacts are enough to fool Amanda’s dad. He was so angry with her, busy yelling at her. I don’t think he noticed me. Every other word out of his mouth was, ‘that cunt, Heather, this, that cunt, Heather, that.’

Amanda’s dad steps out from behind the buff guard. His eyes crawl over me, making me feel sick. I force a shaky smile to my lips. Reaching to twirl a lock of hair.

“Are you my party of one, I have my things in the car,” I purr.

“Why, sure, gorgeous. Just what daddy needs,” he croons.

I turn for my car and bag, before I puke all over him. I tug the bag out of my back seat, silently thanking Heather for leaving a little heavy metal, behind at the apartment. I grabbed it before I followed after them. This is the least I can do.

I’ll fix this, Heather. I’ll take care of the bad man.

* * *

Heather

I won’t get caught slipping this time. I parked around the corner, after driving by to scope the place out. Ernest seems to have become paranoid over the years. He’s never had so much security around.

Do dirt, you get dirt. Who else have you pissed off, Ernest? No matter, I’m here for you now.

I pop the trunk of Brax’s Maserati. I smile, when I find what’s sitting in my crazy man’s trunk. I pull out the duffle bag of weapons, knowing I will find more hidden under the trunk’s interior. I settle for two chrome pieces, tucking them in the back of my pants and grab a few clips.

“Thanks, Dad,” I mutter, moving for the house.

* * *

Braxton

I gear up quickly, as my brothers, dad, and Uncle Rob do the same. Uncle Rob walks over to me. His eyes hard, but a hint of sadness shining through.

“When this is over,” he pounds a hand over his heart. “As a man, Braxton. I need to know what happened to my baby. She wouldn’t tell me,” he swallows hard. “I asked if something was wrong, she never told me. I…”

I don’t need him to finish, I already understand. I nod, not able to speak right away. “I’ll tell you what I know, but let’s get her out of there.”

I walk over to my brothers, Noah and Wyatt watch me warily. Ryan hands me a backpack with my special ingredients. I place the bag on my back, over the rifle I placed there.

“We can go in with you,” Wyatt says.

“Nope, not what I promised. B and H, me and my girl burn this bitch down with that motherfucker screaming,” I pat Wyatt’s shoulder. “I got this. Smoke them motherfucker out when I give the word. Oh, let’s just make it clean. I promise mom I wouldn’t get caught.”

“This crazy motherfucker,” Noah mutters, behind me.

I turn from my brothers, before they can protest anymore. “Enough talking. Time’s a wasting, brothers. The party’s already started,” I crow over my shoulder.

* * *

Lucy

Tears spill over as he hovers over me, choking the life from my body. I didn’t even get to lift the gun, before he charged me, tossing me onto the bed in the master suite. I thought I had things under control.

I sat him in a chair and gave him a lap dance. I walked over to my bag, pretending to get a prop. When I pulled the gun from my bag, he was on me. Knocking the gun from my hands, his long fingers wrapping around my neck.

It all happened so fast. I’m so fucking stupid. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m no badass like Heather. I’ve seen her shoot and fight with the guys. I wanted to be so much like her. I thought I could do this.

“You stupid cunt,” he snarls in my face, spit flying. “Did you think this cheap wig would fool me? I know that sweet little face of yours.”

I whimper, clawing at his fingers. His grip only tightens, but loosens a bit again. It’s just enough to allow me a little air.

“I’ve had my eye on that little bitch, all her fucking life. You’re that sweet ass she used to parade around, before she started fucking that Irish filth,” he grunts.

“I’ve wanted to fuck the two of you. Watch my little Heather eat your tight little pussy, while I take her again,” he nuzzles my hair, my wig somewhere on the floor. “All this pretty blonde hair. Heather has good taste.”

He dips his head licking the side of my face, pulling a whimper from my lips. I feel like my skin is crawling. I struggle against him, but his hold tightens again.

“That fucking Eugene kept getting in the way,” his face contorts with the words. Always trying to protect her. Getting the bosses involved. I don’t give a fuck who that little cunt and her father are connected to. She’s mine,” the sinister glow in his black eyes makes me want to piss myself.

“When I get my hands on her, I’ll make her pay for fucking you, fucking him, and for making me wait so long to have her again,” he reaches under my skirt, tearing my panties from my body.

I close my eyes, trembling with fear. It’s only right I know Heather’s pain. To know her pain is to know how much I truly hurt her.

Click, click. The sound rings out in the room.

“The wait is over. Guess who’s home?”

The voice is so familiar, yet so dark. I have to open my eyes to make sure it’s her. I sob in relief, when I make out Heather through my tear blurred eyes. She’s holding the barrel of a gun to this monster’s head.

He stiffens over me, his hands slacken on my neck. I gasp in a deep gulp of air. My lungs burning, as they fill.

“Get the fuck off of her,” Heather says, with a deadly calm that sends a chill through me.

Ernest, as I heard one of the other men call him, slowly lifts his hands from me. I scramble back away from him, curling my legs into my chest, trying to become a ball. I can’t stop shaking.

Safe. Safe. Safe.

* * *

Heather

I wait to freeze up, but it never happens. He’s not as big as he seemed, when I was ten. He’s a little taller than me and leaner than I remember. Not nearly as built as any of my sparring partners. I feel like I’m glaring at food. I’m going to eat his ass up and spit him out.

I’m aware of everything. My adrenaline is pumping, from scaling the back balcony wall. It was the most undetected way to get inside. I’ll thank Noah later for kicking my ass in the gym.

“Some fucking father you are. You like breaking little girls arms,” I hiss.

“Oh, Amanda and I just had a little misunderstanding. She knows she’s not supposed to go near you. Those two ungrateful bitches always disobey me,” he growls.

I back hand him, with the butt of my gun. “Watch your fucking mouth talking about my mother and sister,” my voice booms through the room.

My eyes scan the room quickly, knowing I’m making too much noise. I need to muffle this ass whipping. Spotting the deck on the nightstand, I nod my head towards it.

“Lucy, turn on the music,” I order not taking my eyes off of Ernest.

He spits blood out, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. I shift when he sways in my direction. My face hardens. I can’t bring myself to put a bullet in him. It’s too easy. He needs to pay.

“Don’t fuck with me,” I warn him, seeing him size me up.

“Ah, baby girl, I’m so disappointed. I thought you’d use some of that hand to hand they taught you,” he tilts his head, his black eyes glinting. “A gun, it’s so beneath you.”

I roll my neck, and smirk. “You don’t want this smoke,” I grin.

Ernest lifts a brow, his face contours. “The black bitch. Your stepmother,” he says in disgust. “I told your mother to bring you back home. I knew that Irish filth and hood bitch were going to ruin you. Then, they let you run off to New York.”

His words drip with disdain. My body shakes, when he mentions my mom. She was protecting me all along. I grit my teeth, remembering her battered face.

“Lucy, come get the gun,” I bite out.

Lucy gets to her legs shakily. She moves to me, reaching to take the gun from my hand. I help her wrap her hands around it, placing her finger over the trigger. Her hands shake, but I pat her shoulder in reassurance.

“You’ll be fine. If you need to, shoot him,” I say dryly.

I unzip my hoodie, shrugging it from my shoulders. The fabric floats to the floor at my feet. Ernest starts to circle me, causing me to move to counter him. My lips twitch with hungry bloodlust.

“You know, you fucked up don’t you?” I snort.

I move in quick, tossing a left at his face, a right palm into his throat, and back off quickly. Ernest stumbles back choking. He looks stunned and his nose is bleeding.

“Bet you didn’t know I was that fast,” I scoff. “I’m not so small and helpless anymore, bitch.”

Ernest growls charging me. I dip, wrapping his waist with my arms and German suplex the fuck out of him. I span out of the move back to my feet. I hear Lucy squeal with glee, but I stay focused. Ernest rolls around on the floor, holding the back of his head.

I rush him and stomp his head. On the third stomp, he catches me off guard, pulling me down by my supporting leg. I hit my back hard, knocking the wind from my lungs. I wince and groan.

“Heather,” Lucy shrieks.

I wave her off, rolling to get up. I get to my feet before Ernest. He still has one knee down as I jump into a round house, snapping his head sideways. I back up moving to assess him. Licking my teeth, I taste copper in my mouth.

“Are you still disappointed? You should’ve watch me more closely. You never would have asked for these hands,” I taunt.

“Little bitch,” he spits.

“I think you’re my bitch, right now,” I laugh.

“Well, damn, B,” the voice I’ve come to love croons.

I turn to see Braxton leaning in the doorjamb, of the same balcony doors I entered through. His arms folded over his chest. He has a proud grin on his face.

“Mind if I tag in, Baby. After all, I did promise,” he croons.

I wink and curtsy. “Have at it, Love,” I purr. My voice turns cold. “Beat the fuck out of him.”

* * *

Braxton

Reaching for the hem of my t-shirt, I tug it over my head. I toss my shirt to Heather. She catches it with a smile, bringing it to her nose. I shake my head at her with a crooked grin. She did good, I think my baby has been holding back on us some.

I shake my head, looking at her handy work. Then, everything fades. The room goes dark and it’s just me and this motherfucker. I’m going to make him eat his fucking teeth.

He’s managed to get to his feet during our little exchange. My right hook slams into his face, with a satisfying crunch. I follow through with an upper cut and this time there’s no Ry to stop me. I pound at his body, folding his ass in half, only to throw another uppercut that sends him flying backwards.

I move quick, grabbing the front of his shirt, before he falls to the ground. Pulling him back to me, I smash my fist into his face repeatedly. I can feel the bone give way with each punch, his face turning to mush.

His hands come up to guard his face, as he chokes up pleas for me to stop. I toss him to the floor in disgust. I wanted to drag this out, but I can’t insure both Lucy and Heather’s safety if we hang around too long. I was shocked to find Lucy in the room holding a gun in shaky hands, I almost shot her at first. Then, I got a better assessment of things.

“Fuck him,” I grunt.

I move to the backpack I brought with me, retrieving it and my rifle. Unzipping the bag, I pull out a Molotov cocktail, lighting it, and I toss it into the right corner of the room. Flames lick up the wall instantaneously.

On the floor, Ernest chokes on his own blood. I move to Heather, almost to her when I hear Lucy scream out. I turn in time to see Ernest pointing a gun at me and Heather. I shield Heather with my body, not having time to wonder where the gun came from.

“No,” Lucy’s voice rings through the room.

“Fuck,” I roar, when Lucy’s body jerks back. She jumped in front of us.

Stepping forward, I catch Lucy’s body. Heather fires after Ernest, but he manages to get to the door. I vibrate with a growl.

“I had to make it right,” Lucy whispers, when Heather rushes over, dropping to her knees. “I’m sorry. I had to make it right.”

“You’ll make it right by not dying on me,” Heather clips out, tearing the shirt I tossed to her earlier.

“We need to move,” I nod at the flames.

* * *

Heather

“Can you walk,” Brax asks Lucy.

“I…I think so,” she winces.

We both help her to her feet. Lucy sways a little, so I wrap her good arm around my shoulder. Braxton grabs my pistol from the floor, tucking it in the front of my waist, I hold the other one in my hand.

“I have Heather and Lucy. Lucy’s hit. Light this bitch up, I’m coming out,” Brax orders.

I should’ve known the guys were with him. The flames are spreading. Only my crazy man would set the place on fire with us in it.

We move forward, the sound of windows breaking fills the air. More flames and smoke start to rise. When Brax turns his gold eyes on me, I see it. Brax is gone once again. Just like when he was beating the life from Ernest.

He nods to me and I know. He’s not looking at Heather when he looks into my eyes. This is us. This is who we become, when you push us. I nod back and we move.

I lift my arm and start to fire. Braxton moves in front of me, clearing a path. I can see the sweat rolling down his back and over his shoulders, as he moves fluidly through the flames. It’s like the Brothers Black tat pulses with life. Moving with him like a cloak. If we weren’t shooting our way out of a burning house I would stop to admire the sexy sight.

Something catches my vision to my left, I swing my arm across Lucy’s body and fire. Lucy shudders against me, but keeps close. Brax signals for me to get low, dropping low himself. I coax Lucy low, following Brax lead. His guns go off, airing the place out. I hear more gunfire outside.

He waves us forward at the stairs, we follow him down quickly, my eyes scanning for Ernest. He dies today. I didn’t come here just to whip his ass. He doesn’t get to breathe tomorrow’s air.

I fire off a few more rounds, taking out two more of Ernest’s minions. Brax gets to the open door, clearing the way, before we all rush out. The guys, Uncle Joe, and Dad are all taking cover behind the SUVs, standing at the ready to air out any danger. I hand Lucy over to Noah.

I start to move, as fast as my legs will take me. “Heather,” Braxton bellows behind me.

I snap around. “He wasn’t in that house. He got out. I’m finishing this. You can come with me or stay here, ,” I demand.

“A silver SUV went North,” Uncle Joe frowns.

Brax is already in motion, he tugs me over to Noah’s bike. Brax revs the bike and takes off. We head North and sure enough a SUV is swerving through traffic. Braxton picks up speed.

The truck turns, moving away from the busier roads. We give chase, not letting him get away. We follow as the road opens up. I tighten my hold on Brax, able to taste the end of Ernest’s. Braxton floors it, pulling to the side of the truck. The truck swerves into us, but Brax backs off.

I pull the gun from my waist. Brax holds out his as well. He fires first blowing out the back passenger window. Ernest looks over his shoulder. I can see the fear in his eyes. The same fear I once had, as I sat in the middle of that floor and watched Skinny Man have his head blown off.

I look into his eyes and pull the trigger. In slow motion, I watch as his eyes bulge, seconds before the bullet enters right between his eyes. The truck spins out, Brax brakes, turning us in time to avoid the truck that starts to flip over itself.

Brax kicks the bike stand, we both climb off. I go to move with him, but he holds his hand up. He walks the distance to the turned over truck. It’s resting on it roof.

I watch Brax’s back. It takes me a moment to realize he’s taking a piss on the truck, right in the driver’s side window. I grin, shaking my head.

Brax pulls something from his pocket, tossing it at the front of the truck. The truck goes up in flames, Brax turning away from it, shielding his face with his arm. We’re going to have to have a talk about him and this fire business.

He jogs back to me. Cupping the back of my head, he gives me a long deep kiss. I inhale him, melting into his arms.

“Thank you,” I breathe against his lips, when he breaks the kiss.

“I promised.”

“Yeah, you did,” I smile