Pax

 

I would have been one hundred percent willing to skin Chevy alive for wasting my fucking time by stopping me, even if part of me was grateful to know what was going on with Jamie. I didn’t fucking like it by any stretch, but at least now I knew that I needed to be careful. I couldn’t just torch the damn place. Instead, I had to go in and rescue her before someone got grabby.

 

Assuming they haven’t already.

 

I shoved the thought away with such force that it was almost physical. I had to believe that she was fine, that they hadn’t touched her yet, and that I’d get there before they had the chance to. Otherwise, I was going to lose my shit, and no one was ready for that.

 

We drove like mad men to the decrepit, old neighborhood that was the epicenter of the Chaos Disciples’ territory. It was where they’d started, and if I’d known that they’d become this sort of problem for me at the time, I’d have burned the whole fucking place down. There’d have been some collateral, but with the way I felt now, I was pretty sure I’d be okay with that.

 

I didn’t care what sort of fucking bastard that made me.

 

Driving through the enemy’s territory wasn’t the most subtle of plans, not when you had more than a dozen men behind you, all riding motorcycles, and all speeding like demons from hell. But I wasn’t going for subtlety or anything close to that. I wanted that son of a bitch to know I was coming, and I wanted him to be fucking afraid.

 

The neighborhood looked deserted as we drove through it. I didn’t think I saw a single soul in the rundown buildings that lined either side of the blacktop. They were probably there, the squatters and the junkies, but they had the good sense to stay away from what was obviously about to go down.

 

Smart, I thought.

 

Because things were going to go down that they didn’t want to be involved in. And I didn’t want to deal with more collateral damage than absolutely necessary. I’d kill whoever I had to in order to save Jamie. That much I’d already decided, but it would be better if I could avoid it in the first place.

 

I led the charge on my motorcycle. Behind me were Travis and Clint on either side. Beyond them, the rest of the boys filtered out, each of them ready for war. There was an intensity in the air, screaming that we were ready for whatever might come tonight. I felt like roaring out a battle cry, announcing to the world that we were headed into battle, but I didn’t. I let our rumbling, growling bikes do that for us.

 

They announced our arrival long before we got there, which was why I was a little surprised to see only two guards on the front porch of what I knew to be the Chaos Disciples’ headquarters.

 

Frowning, I tried to discreetly look around for others. Hiding in the bushes? Around back? In the upper windows? Were they just waiting to ambush us once we got close enough?

 

That was what I would do.

 

If I knew someone was coming, I’d make sure that I had a few guys out front just so that the enemy didn’t feel like they were getting off too easy. Doing that would make them more cautious and suspicious of what was going on. Then I’d hide away my biggest, baddest guys. I’d station them around the house and from strategic vantage points, that way when the assholes came in thinking they’d stormed the castle, my boys would shoot them down.

 

It was a little ruthless to the men standing guard out front, but it was a good plan and would work…so long as your opponent wasn’t suspicious.

 

Which I was.

 

What is that asshole up to?

 

I wanted to know, and I wanted to be cautious because it really did look too easy. But I wasn’t in the mood to wait. Every wasted second was a second more they had Jamie. And Kato. If it were only Kato, I wouldn’t be as worried. Not because I didn’t care for the guy, but I knew that he was a strong man. More than that, he’d signed himself up for this life, and he’d been through the ringer before.

 

I wasn’t worried about him. He’d hang tight until I got to him.

 

But Jamie? She might be feisty and stubborn, strong in her own way, but physically, she was no match to the things that those men could do to her.

 

The thought of how bad it could be had my blood boiling. I wanted to kill something—or someone—here and now, and I was man enough to admit that I probably wasn’t thinking as soundly as I needed to be, not when my boys were blazing their way into battle, following me whatever choices I made. They were trusting me with their fucking lives, and I was feeling pretty damn reckless with them.

 

A better man might have pulled over and put someone else in charge temporarily. But I wasn’t a better man. I was a man on a mission, and that mission was to save Jamie at all costs.

 

Revving my bike, the sounds of those behind me roaring up to match, I made a quick decision to risk the seemingly too easy setup. They knew we were coming already. Being cautious wouldn’t do us any favors. At least, that’s what I was telling myself.

 

I rode my bike as fast and as hard as I dared, right up to the front fucking porch. I was so close that I actually got up the three front steps and onto the veranda. I could see the whites of the eyes of the two assholes standing guard. In their surprised, scared faces, I could see that they hadn’t expected me to come up this close, which is why I did it. Maybe they’d anticipated that I would veer away at the last second, slide to a stop, and kick up dust, but I wasn’t about to leave that much room between us.

 

Jerking my bike hard to the left, I planted it nearly sideways, catching myself on my leg as I reached around behind me for the saddle bags. I found the barrel of my gun without looking, feeling the cool smooth metal, and wrapped my large fingers around it. By the time the poor excuses for guards realized what I was reaching for, it was already too late. I had my Benelli pointed at first one’s face, then the next. Each was followed by a face full of buckshot that tore them up before either had a chance to blink.

 

Their bodies fell to the wooden floor, blood and other bits clinging to what had once been their faces. Maybe I’d feel remorse for having killed them so quickly and efficiently, but I doubted it. I had no illusions that they’d have done the exact same thing to me if I’d given them even half a fucking chance.

 

I wouldn’t feel guilt for doing something that needed to be done, that they brought upon themselves.

 

The shots were loud, echoing off the walls and the overhang. The sound of my bike—and those behind me who had stopped at the base of the porch—managed to muffle some of it, but I was sure the rest of the Chaos Disciples would figure it out soon enough.

 

“Get to it!” I yelled to the boys behind me, not that I needed to. A quick glance back revealed that they were already dismounted and loading up. They had guns in their hands, and I knew there were knives tucked away in places that I couldn’t see. They were a small army following me into an unknown battle.

 

Travis moved forward and made it to the first step of the porch before the blast caught him square in the chest.

 

Fuck!

 

I threw my leg off my bike and hopped down the three steps to the ground where Travis was already slumping. I got him by the shoulders, but he was already down for the count. He coughed up blood twice, then his eyes rolled back into his head.

 

The shit had just started for real now.

 

Another shot rang out, then another. Soon, there was just a barrage of bullets. Some were from me and my guys, the rest from the Disciples. It took longer than I liked to find where the fucking bastards were hiding. They’d been hiding around the porch and on the roof and even in the goddamned trees.

 

Fucking everywhere.

 

Travis was the first of ours to go down, but he wasn’t the last. Not by a long shot. I saw Clint hit the deck and Jarren took one in the arm. He was wailing like a banshee but managed to get along the side of the house and fire from the side.

 

I had my focus on the house. My goal was to get inside that damn house, and now that I’d been stupid enough to jump down from the porch, it was proving harder to get back up there. I’d been reacting to Travis going down, which was stupid of me. He was dead the moment he took it in the chest. Nothing I did was going to change that.

 

Fucking stupid, I thought as I hid behind one of the bikes—I thought it was Travis’s—to avoid another bullet. I heard it ping off the metal siding and suddenly questioned the safety of this hiding place.

 

I didn’t know if all those damn movies with the exploding gas tanks were legit, but I wasn’t willing to chance it.

 

Pushing up to my knees, I twisted at my waist to pull my Benelli around towards where the shots originated. I found a brazen brat of a man pointing a pistol at me like a fucking gangster. His wrist was twisted to the side, the top of the barrel pointed towards his own damn face, and I was willing to bet he was going to catch a hot fucking shell against his cheek pretty quick.

 

Or not, I thought as I blasted him with heavy 12-gauge shot and he went down like a rock off a fucking cliff.

 

Didn’t even get the chance to get burned by his own poor shooting skills.

 

Taking the opportunity, I got up from behind the motorcycle and made a break for the porch again. The shots kept coming, and I felt a sharp burning when one grazed along my back, tearing through the leather and the shirt beneath it. It stung but was probably barely enough to draw blood.

 

I ignored it and took two of the steps at once to hit the porch as quickly as possible. I ducked as soon as I got there, another Chaos Disciple rounding the corner on the porch with me, a pistol gripped tightly in his pale hands.

 

“Fucker!” I heard him yell just before he pulled the trigger again.

 

I dove out of the way, laying out on the floor to dodge the shot. Propping up on one arm, I awkwardly braced the shotgun against my shoulder and pulled the trigger. I missed, the bastard diving out of the way and back around the corner to avoid it.

 

Part of me wanted to go after him but I was too close to the damn door. My guys were still fighting out here, and it looked like a good chunk of the Disciples had tumbled out of whatever holes they were hiding in, so I was hopeful that they wouldn’t be in-force inside the house.

 

Or maybe they had a hell of a lot more men than I anticipated.

 

Either way, I was willing to risk it.

 

Before the chicken-shit could decide to try and come back around the corner to shoot at me again, I pushed myself up and made a break for the door. I expected it to be locked, so I charged it, throwing my shoulder against the hard wood there. It gave easily.

 

Should have tried the damn knob first, I thought for half a second before stumbling through the doorway.

 

I came into a room that looked like the living room but not one that should have belonged to a notorious motorcycle club. It looked like something my fucking parents would have invested it when they were still alive, complete with dollies and floral patterns.

 

Never mind the damn flowers, where’s Jamie?

 

I glanced around quickly, checking to see where they might have taken her. There was a kitchen on the other side of the room, a set of stairs beside it that looked like they went to the basement, and nearest to the front door where I stood was another set of stairs that led to the second floor.

 

I quickly ruled out the kitchen—I’d have heard something from there when I broke through the door, I reasoned—which left me the two staircases. Which one? I didn’t have a lot of time to waste, and I’d already lost enough as it was.

 

Finally, I decided on the second floor. It was where I’d have taken Jamie, and it was closest to me.

 

I had just turned towards the stairs when a large hand clamped down on my arm and jerked me back. I fell heavily onto my back. When I blinked, I stared down the barrel of a Colt .45.