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GIVE IN: Steel Phoenix MC by Paula Cox (103)


 

Jenna

 

“Rev!” I lose my voice in my throat as I try to choke back a scream that I can’t allow to come. The man with his arm around me holds me down by the waist while the rest of the crowd barely registers what’s going on. Did no one else see the knife in Enrique’s hand? Was he seriously that good at fooling people?

 

Rev stumbles backward as Enrique chases him down. His feet move too quickly while Rev’s seem heavy as bricks in a bucket. They drag on the ground, and even from here, I can see his shiny black boots turn matte from the rust-colored blood stains. He clutches his side while Enrique gears up for another hit—this time without the knife, which he’s thrown to the other end of the ring.

 

“Enrique! Kill that shifty motherfucker!” someone behind me shouts.

 

“C’mon, Killer! Teach that asshole a lesson! Take his ass out!”

 

“Fifty bucks more that Rev don’t make it to the end of the round! Anybody want in on that action?”

 

Their words spin around in my head as my world sucks in and out around me. I feel as if I could hurl, but I have to force myself to watch. Someone has to watch Rev, even if this is it. I owe him that. And then, I would make my escape—just as I’d promised him.

 

While Enrique lands a hit to Rev’s cut upside, I glance up towards the man holding me. His tan, wrinkled face is unreadable with the dark sunglasses and long beard. His lip twitches at the crowd, reacting to Enrique’s next blow.

 

“Are we ready?” I ask him in a low whisper. “I think it’s about time we head out.”

 

He nods, and I take a deep breath. The next part is going to be hell on Earth, but I have to do it.

 

With my eyes closed, I scream so hard that my head throbs at my own sound. My arms begin to thrash, and I pull and grasp towards the ring where Rev is still on his feet, but just barely.

 

The drums in my ears pop, and I’m just able to hear the man lean over to another Red Duke, “This crazy fuckin’ bitch is going nuts! I’m going to get her the hell out of here. If anyone asks, I’m taking her to the shed so she can wait for Enrique there and stop givin’ me such a goddamn headache.”

 

Whoever he tells doesn’t show any sign of reaction. I doubt he could hear him over the rest of the men rising to their feet as Rev’s fall to the ground. This is what it was like with gladiators—vicious and bloodthirsty.

 

My guard leans down and commands me. “Go. Move. Now!” His hand slaps the back of my spine and forces me forward through a group of men too distracted by the fight to even give a shit about where I’m going and why. I keep my eyes on Rev as the ring becomes fainter to see. Even at a few hundred feet away, I can still make out his large, hulking figure—the body I used to think belonged to a beast.

 

We turn down a corner and head towards the main parking lot, where I finally have a moment to catch my breath. The man lets go of me, and I press myself against the cold, scratchy brickwork. My lungs search for air. I can’t believe I did that... I can’t believe I let go right when Rev probably needed me the most. The urge to run back to him is egging me on, but my feet and legs feel as if they’ve turned to lead. Warm tears stream down my cheeks—everything’s a watery haze.

 

“He’s gonna make it, Jenna. That son of a bitch doesn’t know how to die,” the guard reassures me as he removes his glasses. With them on, I didn’t even recognize Tommy, Rev’s cousin and the bar owner I’d met. The fake beard is a nice touch too. Once he removes it, it’s hard to mistake the resemblance between the two men. I wonder how I didn’t notice their likeness before.  

 

“How the hell did you get in here?” I ask.

 

Earlier, when he’d whispered into my ear that he was here to help Rev, I didn’t exactly have time to ask for details. All I knew was that he was here and he had backup somewhere. I’d tried to tell Rev when he was in the ring. I pointed out towards the parking lot where Tommy had told me to look when I became distraught at leaving Rev back in the room, but I doubt he knew what I was mouthing to him from afar.

 

“It was easy—too easy if you ask me.” He begins to walk toward a group of men waiting on the far side of the lot. I struggle to keep up with him as he continues, “Vic sent a messenger to the bar a few hours ago saying that Rev was in trouble and needed some help. He couldn’t round up the guys fast enough to get him out of there and do a good sweep, so he needed someone that the Red Dukes wouldn’t easily recognize to sneak in.”

 

Thinking back to the bar and the two Red Duke members that assaulted me on the pool table, I remember them saying something about Tommy harboring other club members in Duke territory. He would be a face that wouldn’t be too easy to identify, and if he was, he could be relatively neutral about it being in the club circles. Still, it was damn bold of him to pretend to be a Duke.

 

“Once I was in, I clocked out some old Duke member that... well, he sort of looked like me. Poor bastard was so trashed, he didn’t even see me coming for him. I took his dirty ass jacket and put on his glasses. The beard was something I had from an old Halloween costume I thought might come in handy if I had to blend in.”

 

“It worked, I guess,” I say, still not seeing exactly why or how he got here. In all of his explanation, only one thing really stood out.

 

“What do you mean Vic asked you to help him? How did he know that Rev was here or that he was in trouble? Is that him?” I point toward the black leather clad men idling on their bikes. The leader, or at least the one who looks to be in charge, barks on his phone and paces around while the rest watch him carefully.

 

Tommy tilts his meaty head to the side as he asks, “He didn’t tell you?”

 

“Tell me about what, Tommy? He said something about making a deal, but he didn’t give me the details.” My heart races as it comes together. I tug at Tommy’s arm until he stops walking. “Tell me he didn’t sell himself up to the Blazers. Please tell me he didn’t do that for me.”

 

Tommy pulls himself away and looks back toward the ring. The fight, somehow, was still going on. I have no idea how Rev has kept it together this long, but he didn’t have much more time to go. Still, I need to know what deal with the devil he made to get to me.

 

“Rev is a lone rider, Jenna. It’s all well and good until it isn’t anymore. Rev knew that he was going to eventually have to pay the price for not wearing a patch or some club’s colors. That kind of freedom comes with a price when you want something from the clubs.” He turns back to me, studying my face as he adds, “I don’t know what kind of deal he made with Vic or the Blazers, but when I got that message, it was clear that Vic was holding his end of the bargain. And if I didn’t help, he would end up dead. I’m not about to let that happen, even if it means helping that son-of-a-bitch out.”

 

“Can we trust Vic?” I ask, “When we met him earlier, Rev said we couldn’t trust a guy like him.”

 

“I know you’re new to this shit, but you can’t be joking with me right now. You should know by now that you don’t trust no one but yourself. Rev knew that. That’s why he rode alone to begin with. But if it was between Enrique beating the shit out of him until he skull was cracked in and Vic owning him in return for saving him, I’m gonna go with trusting Vic. For now.”

 

We start out again, heading towards the men. Tommy calls out to one of them, but I interrupt him, “What should I... “ I struggle for the words. “What should I be doing? How can I help?” If I had to do what Tommy said and trust Vic, I was at least going to be part of the rescue mission.

 

“You stay the fuck out of the way. Let the men do the real work. They don’t need you to distract them.” I nod and gulp back the lump in my throat. Tommy heads off towards the men as he points anxiously over at Rev’s flailing figure. I too try to see what was happening. The Red Dukes were screaming out Enrique’s name, chanting it like some cult worshipping their sick leader. Their feet were slamming on the ground so loudly I could feel it from here.

 

For whatever reason, this all seems to make the small army in the parking lot even more eager to get in. They weren’t much to look at—about twenty or thirty guys sitting on various red, black, and silver motorcycles. They wore the one percenter patches on their vests and jackets. On the back of some bikes flew mini-flags in the Blazer colors of heather green and fire red. Their rags and bandanas tied around their faces all matched, giving them a look of tribal warriors.

 

In their clutched hands are a variety of weapons. Some held long, old school style bats in both hands. Others stuck to planks of wood covered in jagged, dangling nails and screws—spikes pointed out. The men in the front have the deadlier stuff—spiked tire chains, bowing knives, metal pipe pieces, and the occasional unholstered gun.

 

Vic himself was covered in a small arsenal. Over his shoulder is a sawed-off shotgun while he clutches what appears to be a vintage pistol. Of course, the Blazers wouldn’t want to risk him. It’s almost like he’s a general for an army in the 1700s. He’s here to lead the cavalry in the attack, but he isn’t going to be getting blood on his hands unless he made it to the end.

 

A few minutes pass before Vic is ready to move on. After having heated words with Tommy out in the corner of the lot, he comes pounding towards the men and myself. They dismount and gather around him in a tight circle. I can’t see anything but boots, leather shoulders, and ducked heads. But over the roar of the crowd cheering Rev’s death, I can make out Vic’s instructions:

 

“If you’re here, I picked you because I knew you could handle a job of this size. From Tommy’s count, there’s about fifty of them watching and maybe another ten in the shop. Some of those guys aren’t Red Dukes, so make sure you watch affiliations. The last thing we want is to start a turf war over civilian attacks. If they aren’t going after you, you don’t go after them.”

 

“You don’t want us to kill these motherfuckers?” a man asks from the back. They all turn their heads toward Vic for clarification.

 

“I want you to murder them. I want you to take them out without any mercy. But that’s not what we’re here for. When we take out Enrique, those guys are gonna have a shot of joining up with us. If they know what’s good for them, they’ll put down whatever weapons they’ve got and get behind us. For those guys, you don’t touch. The rest of them, the ones that try to mess with you, they’re fair game.”

 

He sighs heavily, “What matters most is getting Rev out and taking down Enrique. For the Blazer who brings the rat bastard to me, I’m offering a bounty and a promotion.” That works. The men whisper amongst themselves as Vic tries to regain composure.

 

“Are you ready? Are you ready to bring on some hell?” The men shout a loud, guttural yell that vibrates in my chest and sends chills down my spine. It’s the kind of yell that men must have given for years and years before—when they are off to war. All that’s missing is the drums and cannon fire. Instead, it’s replaced by the roar of motorcycles firing on all cylinders as a group of bikes stream towards the crowd still gathered around the ring. Their weapons are lifted high in the air, casting a strange shadow on the parking lot.

 

I know I should stay back, or even run if I’m following Rev’s advice, but I can’t miss this. I follow Tommy as he runs towards the action. He looks over his shoulder at me as the first screams are heard, “Go back, Jenna! Don’t fucking get yourself killed!”

 

“No! I’m not going back! I’m not leaving Rev behind.” I’m as firm as I can be. Rev has become my entire reason for... anything. He has lit a fire within me that I never even knew was there. Whether it was fate or just shit luck that brought us together, it didn’t matter now. I’m going with my gut, and I’m going to get my man.

 

Tommy watches as I lap him in my heels and dress. I run head first into the chaotic scene of blood and carnage. The men on the motorcycles dominate. They chase after the few that dare to get in their way. Bats are thrown, and knives are stabbed into jackets and t-shirts. One of the riders is flipped backward off his bike that continues to spin and jerk forward until it falls into the crowd of men pummeling one another.

 

The small group of women who stayed behind with their men are ducking behind a storage shed as they scream in horror. I should probably do the same, but instead, I take the long way around the back where there’s no one to see me. Around the corner, I’m better able to see the ring. Enrique’s gone, but Rev is there—laid out flat on the ground. His hand clutches his stab wound, still oozing a river of scarlet red.

 

I slip my shoes off and hike up my already short skirt. Nothing is going to get in my way. In my head, I count to ten. It’s the only way I can force myself to go. At one, my bare feet take off like lightning shooting from the sky. I step on shards of broken glass, beer cans, and thrown food while I attempt to make a running leap onto the platform ring. I just make it, my legs dangling below me.

 

The world stops for a second when I see him. There’s no sound, no smell, no danger. It’s just us two in the ring. His pale face slowly turns to mine—his green eyes fixating on me as I crawl to him in what feels like slow motion.

 

“Rev... please don’t be... please...” I sob.

 

“Jenna,” he somehow manages to growl through the pain, “I told you to get the hell out of here.”

 

I place his head on my lap as I bend to kiss his purple lips. A drop of blood lingers in the corner, and I can taste the metallic bitterness of it as I press down. I whisper to him, “I’m not leaving you—not like this.”

 

“They’ll kill you.”

 

“No, Rev. No. The Blazers... they’re here. And it’s going to be okay. They’re going to win.” I look around for confirmation, but I honestly can’t tell who is who in the fighting. I count the motorcycles still upright. It’s less than half, but that has to be a good sign. The Blazers have to be weeding out the ones on the ground.

 

Suddenly, Rev yanks on my hand as hard as he can manage. “Jenna! Duck!”

 

I press myself into his chest just in time to avoid Enrique’s tackle. He flies over us towards the other end of the ring. In his hand, he clutches the small knife he used earlier to gut Rev. He gears up to go again, but this time, I have no idea if it’s Rev or me he’s after.

 

Either way, I’m not going to let him take Rev from me. I cover Rev with my entire body, forming a shield around him.

 

I close my eyes and wait for the pain...

 

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