Chapter Twenty-Two
…
Star
The phone Bones gave Remy vibrated in a semicircle on the nightstand. Remy answered, but mostly listened. It’d been almost a week since the ghost town and the hard night that followed.
Since then, a faint brightness had returned to Remy. He looked lighter somehow. That fire was still there, but that wasn’t the only thing that scorched his dark orbs.
There was hope.
We’d had sex every night since. It wasn’t just sweaty, mindless sex, or shared mechanical release. He was having sex with me, not because of some coping mechanism or a need to feel something other than constant pain, but because I understood him now.
Because I let him lose himself in me.
“It’s on. Lets go.” Remy hung up, kissed me, then threw a few things into a bag.
Aside from the guns, one change of clothes each, and a few odds and ends, everything else was abandoned. We paid for the room in cash, under fake names, so we didn’t bother to check out or anything.
To look at us, with everything we left with, you’d think that we were only headed out for a few hours.
“Wait.” Remy stopped in the doorway right before closing our room for the final time and went back in for something. Whatever it was it had to be important for him to pull a full stop and go back for it.
“What is it?” I thought going over everything we’d packed in my mind. We had all the ammo magazines, and weapons cleaned, and ready to go. It wasn’t something stupid like the keys to the bike, was it? “What’d we forget?”
Remy returned with the Friends DVD boxed set.
“Yeah?” I asked, not containing my smug smirk. “OK.”
“Don’t judge me.” He kissed me firmly, then put the DVDs into the duffle bag. “And for the record, they were not on a break. Ross is just a fucking idiot.”
I laughed so hard that Remy had to drag me to the bike.
And just like that, we rode off and left a whole life behind.
All the frustration of trying to stay on the right side of the law was gone. I looked back at the motel fading off into the distance, and I felt that limbo, that fake middle-life, fading with it. I would never miss it the waitressing, the struggle for money, the long hours with no respect. All that toil and at the end of the day I never had anything to show for it.
That life wasn’t us.
It was time to forge a new future that wasn’t burdened by the exhaustive rules of society. This would be a future that we were good at, one that made sense to both of us. In the past six months, there had been so many no-turning-back moments for me that now they just felt like phases of my life. We were crabs outgrowing seashells one after the other. Soon, Remy and I would find the perfect fit.
For now though, we had to make it through the next twenty four hours. Now there was only Remy’s plan or death. Either way, the life we’d been leading these last few weeks was over and I had completely come to terms with that.
After a day’s worth of riding through New Mexico, Texas and then Oklahoma, we finally pulled into a decent looking hotel about an hour outside of Leslie just before dusk. We parked at the edge of the sea of chrome and rubber. There must’ve been thirty bikes lined up.
Los Lobos had beaten us here.
“That’s gotta be loaded with the heavy weapons.” Remy cocked his head over to a generic white van with New Mexico plates that was parked next to the bikes. He texted Bones to let him know we’d arrived. “Assault rifles, shotguns, SMGs if they have any. They can get away with hiding a few pistols in the bedrolls strapped to the back of their bikes, but anything bigger than that and they run a real risk of the cops being called. For something this important they won’t take any chances they don’t have to.”
“If that truck doesn’t make it to Leslie, the Lobos lose a huge firepower advantage,” I replied.
Remy nodded at me and smiled with his eyes.
It felt like we were partners now more than ever. I loved it.
We removed the bag and started walking inside. I spotted two Lobos lingering around the van smoking cigarettes and chatting.
“Looks like they have people watching it now, and if it’s that valuable, I’d imagine they’re going to have people watching it all night.” I leaned in and whispered, “How are we going to stop the van and not have the Lobos immediately know it was us?”
“I have an idea…”
“But?” I waited for the other shoe to drop.
“I’m going to need you to run a distraction.” Remy exhaled, looking almost guilty.
“Distraction, huh? Is this going to be a thing we do now?” I smiled at him. “Some couples just do a board game night, you know.”
“We’re not those couples.” Remy stopped me and looked for signs of hesitance. “Are you all right with this? I might be able to figure something else out.”
“No, it’s fine.” I kissed him on the cheek. I was reminded of the strip club. Terrifying at first, but it was great to be able to actually help him. He counted on me and I came through. It was a great feeling. “Besides, I’ve never successfully completed a game of monopoly before.”
“No one has.” The corner of his mouth crept up on one side.
Remy had me grab a liter of Coca-Cola and a few other things from the overpriced convenience store across the street, while he checked us into a room that overlooked the bikes and more importantly the white van. Our room was on the fifth floor and was surprisingly comfortable. I came back with what Remy had asked for, and some dinner for the both of us. After we ate and I took a quick shower, Remy set the alarm and explained his plan. Then we both crashed out for what was basically just a long nap.
At three AM the screeching alarm went off, and my first coherent thought was that I was late for school. Years later and I still had that same stupid fear. The more things changed the more they stayed the same too.
I chose to interpret that fear as despite me having changed so dramatically since meeting Remy, I was still deep down the same person at heart. Murder and mayhem hadn’t stolen that from me which was actually a little encouraging.
“Time to get up, my little actress.” Remy yawned, rubbed his face, and got dressed. “Once you’re ready and you see one of the Lobos on watch head in to take a piss, I want you to open the curtains and flick the lights on and off a few times to let me know.”
“You got it, Clyde.” I smiled groggily, stretching. I emptied the bag of beauty supplies that I’d picked up at the convenience store onto the bed. “All this makeup... I’m going to be so glamorous.”
I had to pretty myself up quickly.
“Don’t have too much fun, Bonnie.” Remy grabbed the water bottle and a pack of cigarettes, then winked at me on the way out the door. Remy somehow had the forethought to pack my skimpiest outfit. Knowing him, the devious bastard probably had this planned well before we even left Santa Fe.
Forty-five minutes later, one of the Lobos headed inside to use the bathroom. I signaled to Remy and ran down as fast as I could.
I was a mess of poofy eighties hair, teary-eyed mascara, yoga pants, and bra-lessness, under an obscenely low-cut blouse. If anyone I knew saw me, they probably wouldn’t recognize me, but that was the point.
Remy extinguished his cigarette, and crept around the back of the van while I drunkenly meandered near the fat biker sitting in the driver’s seat with the door open. When he predictably cat called at me, I walked toward him and laid on the heavy flirting.
“Whatchu need, mommie?” the fat biker cooed at me.
“I’m lost. Do you know how to get back to Michael’s restaurant? I just got into a fight with boyfriend.” I channeled my inner walk-of-shame from my earliest college days. I groaned a little on the inside at my terrible performance and hoped the outfit alone would be distracting enough.
With all the subterfuge Remy had me do, at some point, I really should look into acting classes.
While I rattled off fake laughs and feigned drunken small talk, Remy had pried open the van’s gas tank door and dumped the liter of Coca-Cola in. When I saw him walk away, I took Remy’s cue and thanked the “big strong biker-man” I was talking to, then stumbled around the building.
Once out of sight, I dropped the character, headed to our room, and cleaned up.
Remy joined me shortly after.
Later that morning, we left with the two dozen or so bikers bound for Leslie. We had to keep this strike force relatively small. There was nothing illegal about a few hundred bikers riding together, but that always tended to draw the feds and that was the last thing the Lobos wanted to have to deal with.
This wasn’t supposed to be an army assault, this was a tactical execution. We rode with the best the Lobos had to offer. The baddest of the bad. We were a prison riot on wheels. I didn’t know if the Lobos had kill teams of their own, but if they did… those were the guys that were all around us.
Bones had the road captain wave us up and position us up front next to him. I was sure it was so they could keep an eye on us in case Remy tried to run.
When we were about ten miles out from Leslie, I carefully pulled the phone from Remy's pocket. I found the draft text message he’d written to Tee before we left and hit send. All we could do now was pray that Tee was able to come through for us.
Leslie was a small, but spacious flat town with a handful of well maintained brick and stone buildings. With plenty of vacant lots being developed, it was apparent that the wheels of change, although slow, were turning in Remy’s home town. Despite the progress of industry, there were parks, public art in the form of sculptures and paintings, and a few covered gazebos for gatherings. Almost every store front window had handmade signs with the date of some social event, most likely from an elementary school. The charming town was well cared for by its residents.
There was this wonderful sense of community here. I really liked that.
The rolling tide of bikers thundered through the main drag in the center of town. It was odd, bordering on creepy how empty the town was. Very few people were on the street or driving around today. I wondered how far that sense of community went. Had the Steel Veins been so well-regarded here that the town’s people heeded the warning from the club and stayed inside today?
Remy had assured Bones that the mother chapter, Deadeye’s crew, would show up early in the day to help with the set up for the annual. We were supposed to get there right after they arrived. That way we’d have hours before the rest of the chapters showed up.
The Lobos plan was to ride into the parking lot, kill anyone outside, then storm the building with the heavy guns out of the van. They would wipe out both Deadeye’s and Top’s chapters, then be halfway back to New Mexico before the rest of the Veins reinforcements could arrive.
It was a scary, good plan. Of course it was, because Remy was the one to think it up.
Remy’s old clubhouse came into view and I understood why it was probably easy to have such sway over a quaint little town like Leslie. The clubhouse was basically a brick rectangle with a chain-link fence surrounding the property, nothing really to look at.
It was the location that was brilliant. The clubhouse was on the outskirts of town, out by the railway station, in the industrial district. The Veins could show up to, and support, all the town’s events, but also keep the grittier, day-to-day stuff out of sight and out of mind for the residents.
Leslie probably viewed the club as their hidden protectors.
When we got close to Remy’s clubhouse, everyone pulled out their pistols. Bones glanced over to Remy just before we pulled in. He was checking to see if Remy really had the nerve to raid his own clubhouse. If he saw any doubt on Remy’s face, I was sure he’d have nodded to Spyder, who rode directly behind us, and we’d have been gunned down in a heartbeat.
Remy matched Bones’ gaze, then pulled his bike into the lead.
There were two Veins in the parking lot that were caught on their way back into the building. I didn’t recognize either of them from the nights at Muse’s, so they must’ve been Deadeye’s crew.
Remy had his gun out and firing.
They were both on the ground before Bones had even entered the parking lot.
Like a burst damn, the Lobos flooded into the open, gated parking lot. A dozen bikers set up at each exit and shot up the doors when the Veins inside tried to come out and help their fallen brothers. This was a surgical strike. Remy had planned for everything.
“¿Dónde mierda está la camioneta?” Bones scanned for the van, but couldn’t find it, then he screamed at his road captain and sergeant at arms. No one had any idea. It should’ve been right behind them. Bones called the van’s drivers, but got no answer. Then he checked his voice mail. The Lobos stood by anxiously, waiting for orders.
Bones closed the phone, crushed it into his clenched fist, wrapped it with his other hand, pressed them into his forehead, then shook violently for a few seconds. The frustration on his usually subdued face was startling.
He looked as if he would become unhinged at any moment, then he calmly relaxed and yelled out something in Spanish.
Remy and I watched him intently…Me, not knowing what he said, and Remy pretending not to know.
“The van stalled out on the highway on the way over. The engine somehow got fucked. The police showed up and now Flaco and Papa are in custody. With all our fucking heavy weapons!” Bones’ voice pitched slightly, but he brought it back under control, showing incredible restraint. He even took a deep breath before asking, “Do you know anything about that?”
“News to me.” Remy shrugged, feigning obliviousness. For reasons beyond me, Remy knew exactly what a liter of Coca-Cola could do to a vehicle’s engine. “You had guys on that all night, right?”
“Yeah. S’what I thought.” Bones’ face contracted in disbelieving acceptance. “OK. So here’s what happens now. Roughneck!”
The crowd parted, so the leathery warlock could get through. He was short and wiry, with long, stringy hair, under a faded bandana. He swam in his patch covered, denim vest. One of those patched read “Original” which probably harkened back to him starting the club. He looked like he escaped from a biker retirement home if such things existed.
“Remy is going to take the lead on the way into the clubhouse. Spyder, you and ten guys follow him in. Roughneck, you’re going to take chamaquita here over to the edge of the parking lot, and if anything else— and I fucking mean anything— doesn’t go as planned, you put a fucking bullet into that pretty fucking face of hers.” Bones’ tone was definitive. He wasn’t going to be too careful. Everything led up to this moment.
This was the moment he destroyed the Steel Veins.
“Roger that. Be my pleasure!” Roughneck pulled up the back of my shirt and stripped away my gun, then jerked me by my arm toward the back of the parking lot. “Let’s go, tight ass.”
My skin crawled at the old psycho’s touch. This was definitely not in the plan! Shit!
“I’ll come back for you,” Remy mouthed the words. There was nothing else he could do for me; they were already breaking off to make the assault.
I was on my own.
I had to stay alive long enough for him to get through this.
“Yer boyfriend there’ll never make it out of this alive.” Roughneck shoved me past all the parked bikes out by the dumpster, and then pushed me into the chain-link fence that surrounded the property.
“That’s not what your boss says,” I spat the words at him, emphasizing that he was no longer in control of the club, regardless of the Original patch he wore. “As long as everything goes according to plan.”
“Bones says a lotta stuff.” The old bastard waved my words away and offered up a sickly grin. “Sometimes ya gotta read ‘tween the lines.”
“They made a deal.” I ripped his hand off my arm. “You keep your fucking hands to yourself.”
“Yer a feisty twat, aintcha? Ya see yer boy over there yellin’ in the door?” Roughneck pulled the pistol out of the leather holster he wore on his chest.
I stayed quiet.
“The second he disappears.” Roughneck pointed his evil gaze and his absurdly, large revolver at me. “You do too.”
“That’s not what Bones fucking said!” I protested.
“Tween the lines.” Roughneck shrugged looking back at Remy.
“Don’t shoot!” I could just barely hear Remy yell at the men inside his clubhouse. “Deadeye, it’s Poet. You’re completely surrounded. I’ve got an offer for you that makes this whole nightmare go away. No one else needs to die. I just need to talk. Two minutes, that’s all.”
I couldn’t hear what Deadeye was saying, we were too far away.
“Dammit, I’m trying to help you! Lobos have your fucking daughter, man! I’m coming in, unarmed so do not shoot,” Remy lied, he was thinking on his feet. Kidnapping wasn’t part of the plan.
I clenched up. At least not the plan that Remy outlined.
With his hands up, Remy walked into the clubhouse, then abruptly dove to one side and was out of sight. There were gunshots, and the rest of the Lobos charged in. Then there were a lot more gunshots.
God, I hoped he was all right.
And now out here I was completely alone. No help was coming for me. I needed to handle this myself regardless of what Remy did. Before Roughneck could turn back to me, I charged him.
When we collided into the side of a nearby dumpster, Roughneck’s revolver fired over my shoulder. It was unbelievably loud. My world was nothing, but that constant “eeeee” noise. I could still see, but the sound was so jarring that I became disoriented. We toppled to the ground, then somehow he was on top of me, his hands around my throat.
His grip was shockingly strong for a man in his mid seventies. I couldn’t breathe. The more I thrashed and clawed at him, the more he squeezed. My vision started to go fuzzy and white around the edges. I tried to knee him in the groin but he laid on me side-saddle and I couldn’t get the right angle. I reached for the gun but had no idea where it ended up. My god I was going to die, strangled by an old man in a parking lot.
What would Remy do? Frantic and desperate, I jammed my thumbs into each eye. My nails punctured them as easily as if I pushed them through soft-boiled eggs. Blood and liquids ran between my fingers, down my palm and forearm. I still couldn’t hear anything, but I saw him screaming, and I know I must have been screaming too, or I would have if he let me breathe.
Roughneck still wouldn’t let go so I pushed harder. I felt my fingertips bottom out, my nails scraped against the bones behind his eyes. Only then did he finally let me go.
I gasped, taking in only as much air as I could scream out. I kicked and slid myself away from him. I rolled onto my stomach and just tried to breathe while frantically wiping whatever I could off onto my jeans. My hands were slick and disgusting, I could feel the pulp under my nails, and fought the urge to throw up. I wanted to tear my own fingers off! It was the most disgusting thing that I’d ever been forced to do. I couldn’t stop shaking.
Then I realized I wasn’t shaking. The ground was shaking. Everywhere. What the hell was that? Was this area prone to earthquakes?
Roughneck had a hand over his face, and was blindly sweeping the ground for his gun. He found it a moment later and immediately fired it in whichever direction he thought I was in. He was insane!
The bullet missed me, but only barely. This man would not stop until I was dead. I only had two options, run away and hope for the best or finish it right now.
I kicked the gun out of his hand into the fence. I ran over and picked it up.
The realization hit me like a speeding bus. I wasn’t a bystander, or an accident, or in the wrong place at the wrong time. Roughneck wasn’t trying to hurt Remy. This psychopath was trying to kill me.
Me, Star Keller, no one else.
My mind replayed the image of Rio tumbling off the truck bed after I shot him in the stomach at Muse’s place. I didn’t have the strength or resolve to finish off the dying man then, so Remy did it for me. Remy wasn’t here this time.
It was just me, a gun, and a man who wanted me dead.
I decided something that Remy probably decided for himself at one point in his life. The epiphany was the most obvious thing in the world. Everything just made sense. All the pieces fit. This was what you did to people who tried to kill you.
I would never be a victim ever again.
“No one gets to kill me.” I pushed the gun barrel into Roughneck’s back. “Not you. Not anyone.”
Calmly squeezing the trigger like Remy taught me, I watched the front of diseased old biker’s chest explode. And felt nothing beside the recoil.
My ears were still muted from that constant “eeeee” sound. I put two more rounds into the old biker just to be sure. There wasn’t any noise, so I barely flinched. The gun barrel smoked for a second from the rapid firing before being cleaned away by a gentle breeze.
So, this is what I’m truly capable of.
I exhaled, feeling the last of my timidity blow away with the dry late-summer wind. I was calm. I truly belonged in Remy’s world. It just took me this long to realize it.
Only then did I remember where I was and dropped into a crouch, booking it behind the dumpster. I had just murdered one of the founding members of Los Lobos! Angry bikers with guns would be shooting at me any second now.
I turned the heavy pistol over in my hand. I had no idea how many shots had been fired from it, and even worse, I didn’t know how to check. I could load and unload a magazine, but this was the first time I’d ever held a revolver. I tried to remember how many shots were fired, but that was useless. Too many other things were going on to keep an accurate count.
I rubbed my ears to work out the ringing from the damn monster handgun and after a few seconds, I realized that no bullets were landing near me. No one even ran up to check on the fallen biker.
Was no one actually coming after me for killing Roughneck?
Peeking my head out from behind the dumpster gun first, I was ready to fight back against anything that came my way. What I wasn’t prepared for was what I saw next.
Having temporarily lost my hearing, I didn’t hear the new bikers pull in. There must have been dozens of Steel Veins that had rode in, maybe a hundred, or more!
Of course, none of the Lobos came for Roughneck, they were all too busy trying to save their own asses. The tail end of the firefight was brutal, the Lobos outside had been devastated. Almost every one of them had been, or was currently, being slaughtered. There were a few Lobo holdouts hiding behind bullet-riddled cars trading shots with the Veins, but in the face of such overwhelming firepower, it was only a matter of time.
With two clubs that hated each other this much there would be no surrender on either side, everyone knew that. The few Lobos left fought with the tenacity of men who didn’t expect to turn the tide. They just wanted to die on their feet.
Remy had Tee secretly contact all the other Steel Veins chapters and set up a different location for the annual, rather than their Leslie clubhouse. When I texted Tee, he took the rest of his chapter to that new location to meet all the members from all over that had already arrived. I had no idea what he told Deadeye to keep his crew at the Leslie clubhouse while they were gone, but whatever it was… it worked.
Despite Remy’s double-cross, the Lobos plan mostly worked. They came in while everyone was away and killed Deadeye’s crew. It was afterwards that everything fell apart.
Instead of having hours to deal with Deadeye, they had minutes.
I still couldn’t believe Remy’s plan worked!
Tee had all the Veins reinforcements come in and cut off the Lobos escape routes.
Most of the poisonous decision makers in the Steel Veins were wiped out by the Lobos, thus cleaning the cancer out of Remy’s club. The remaining Veins chapters were now united, stronger than ever, against a common threat.
We’re not out of the woods yet, I reminded myself. Remy still had to convince the Veins not to kill us. They sent a kill team after us for killing Rio. What would the MC do to us for wiping out the entire mother chapter?
Where was Remy? I started making my way back toward the clubhouse. I didn’t see him anywhere. He should’ve been out by now.
My throat tightened up. A million things could’ve gone wrong in that clubhouse. Remy was brilliant, but some things just couldn’t be planned for. Like him, I thought, passing Roughneck’s corpse. I resisted the urge to spit on such human trash.
All the gunfire outside had stopped. Not that I cared. All that mattered was that I got to Remy, gunfire be damned! I ran through the throng of bikers, the Steel Veins, the dead and the dying Lobos, to get inside the clubhouse.
Right before I reached the door it was kicked open by a bloodied, and beaten up Spyder wielding a shotgun. He wore the fearful expression of a man trying to run. Seeing the army of Veins waiting just outside, the angry, vindictive Lobo knew it was the end, and switched gears to take as many people down with him as possible.
And I was running right at him.
Spyder looked at me with hate boiling out of his sunken eyes and leveled his shotgun. He had me dead to rights. I raised my gun, but Roughneck’s revolver was heavy and clunky. I’d never get him in time.
Just before the shotgun went off, a massive hand clamp down on my arm and jerked me so hard to the side that I lifted off the ground. My arm immediately popped out of its socket and I slapped against the pavement like a slab of beef knocked off a meat hook.
A gigantic form that stood over me while I cowered, covering my ears to protect my slowly returning hearing from all the gunfire. Glancing up I saw that it was Remy’s brother, Top that saved me.
Top started at the Spyder’s groin, and walked his gunshots up the Lobo’s midsection. Then the rest of the Veins with a clear shot opened up on the poor bastard as well. Bits and chunks were blown off the man as he was torn to shreds.
It was too gruesome even for me—I had to look away.
The giant loomed over me until Spyder’s corpse finally fell. I prayed Top didn’t recognize me. But how could he not? If I could have melted into the asphalt I would’ve. Top terrified me since the second he forced himself into my life.
“You all right, Star?” He looked down at me through his massive beard and extended a hand to help me up.
I recoiled at the sound of my name, then again at his movement toward me. This time when he said my name there was no sarcasm or malice in his voice. It sounded like genuine concern.
“Don’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you.” His features softened considerably from what I remembered back at the gas station and at Muse’s. He grabbed my waist and helped me up gently.
I pulled away reflexively. This was the man who killed my aunt and uncle, tried to rape me, and then have me killed. Yes, he had just saved my life, but I couldn’t shake all the other stuff he did to nearly end it.
“Your arm needs settin’, will you let me?” Top asked, deep lines of guilt and shame across his face. He knew what he’d done to me as well.
“Remy!” My laser focus snapped back on. He was still in there!
“Easy, I got good men in there. They’ll pull him out. You goin’ let me set that arm?” Top extended his massive hand again.
Hesitantly, I nodded through the agony shooting up my arm. What else could I do? I was no use to Remy like this. I needed help. I just hated that I needed help from him.
With a quick jerk, Top popped my shoulder back in. It hurt like hell, but I was able to stifle the scream. Top stepped back to give me some space. He even looked impressed at how I was able to deal with the pain.
“I know it don’t change anything, but I want you to know. I am sorry. I’m sorry about everything that went down at the gas station. About what I did to you at Muse’s… My brother’s death fucked me all up and I was out of my mind. I don’t expect forgiveness, but I just needed you to know that.” Top struggled through the words, but the real remorse was there, as plain as day.
This was never a conversation I imagined would ever happen! I was dumbfounded.
“I…don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive you.” I frowned and averted my gaze a moment before meeting his eyes again. It was a harsh realization, but some bridges were burned so badly that they could never be rebuilt. I could deal with damn near anything these days, but this.
Top exhaled, and nodded solemnly.
The door swung open again. Several Veins dragged Deadeye out. I was surprised to see him still alive. Between the Lobos and Remy, I was sure he’d be dead, but there he was, beaten and with a few holes in him, but still alive.
A few seconds later Remy walked out too. He was covered in blood, but I didn’t think much of it was his.
I dashed over and wrapped my arms around him. I pressed my lips into his. His mouth was bloody from a hit he must have taken, but I didn’t care about the rusty, metallic taste on his teeth.
All I cared about was that he was alive.
He laid both arms over my shoulders and embraced me like he hadn’t seen me in years. I never wanted him to let me go. If this was a fairy tale, all the Steel Veins would’ve been clapping and cheering.
But this wasn’t a Disney movie. Over Remy’s shoulder, I saw only the aftermath of bloody, violent carnage. Friends had been killed, bad injuries would destroy a few lives, and occasionally, gunfire would ring out to finish off wounded Lobos. This was Saving Private Ryan.
“Rem,” Top cried, approaching with his arms extended. “Brother, it’s damn good to see—”
“Lawrence!” Remy called out to his brother, but it wasn’t a cry of reunion or even one of anger over everything he’d done. There was terror in Remy’s voice. He threw me to the ground and lunged for his brother, but it was too late. “Down!”
A bullet jerked the big man toward us slightly. There was a look of confusion on Top’s face like he wasn’t sure what had happened.
Bones had been hiding behind a car in the back of the parking lot this whole time. Knowing he’d be spotted eventually, Bones stood up when no one was paying attention and fired at Remy, hoping to finish what he started in his clubhouse so many weeks ago. Top had walked in the way at the last second and taken the round.
Seeing that he’d missed, Bones unloaded the rest of his handgun at us
Despite Remy’s warning, Top refused to move or fall; instead he just spread his arms out to cover more area. The confusion on his face was replaced with resignation, then rigid determination. He might as well have been bolted to the ground. Top wasn’t going anywhere.
His massive form was the only thing standing between us and Bones’ vengeance. Bullet after bullet slammed into Top, but the big man held his ground, protecting his brother the only way he could now. Maybe even attempting to make amends for all that he’d done.
The last bullet caught Top just above the ear, racking his head to the side, and even then—he stubbornly stood for a moment before finally collapsing.
“No!” Remy screamed, unbridled rage became him. He ran through the hail of return fire that peppered the car Bones was reloading behind. “He’s mine!”
The Veins stayed their hands and let this play itself out.
Bones reloaded as fast as he could. He slammed the magazine in and fired at Remy.
My whole body cringed as I watched a bullet punch right through Remy’s shoulder. The bullet didn’t slow Remy in the slightest as he dove over the car and crashed into Bones. They disappeared behind the car and I heard Bones’ gun fired several more times.
“No...” I disregarded the gunfire and ran around the side of the car as fast as my scraped and bruised legs would carry me. I had to help Remy if I could!
If it wasn’t already too late.
“¡Hablo español, pedazo de mierda!” Remy screamed the words into the face of an unresponsive Bones. The parking lot had quieted enough for me to clearly make out the sickening crack of blow after vicious, raining blow. “I understood everything you said! Every fucking word!”
One glance at Bones’ mangled face was enough to know that he wouldn’t last long. I reached out to Remy to stop him, but then stopped myself and looked away. I could’ve stopped and pulled him from the dark path he spiraled down, but I knew deep down that he needed this. To finally expend all that rage he’d bottled up over the years.
Every violent, punishing strike was for Maria, for Top, and for all the bullets and pain he’d endured at the hands of this man and his wretched club.
I could’ve stopped Remy, but honestly? I didn’t want to.
In my heart, I knew Bones deserved it, just like Roughneck deserved it. All the Lobos deserved what they got. The part of me that protested, that said this kind of brutality no matter how justified was wrong, that part quieted a little more each time Remy’s fist landed.
Remy’s path would always be one of violence. I didn’t see that changing any time soon, and I realized fully that I was all right with that. I accepted it. I was a part of it now. No guilt, no remorse, and no mercy.
This was a hard world, but then so was I.
I turned my eyes back and watched.
Finally, Remy’s scarred fists lifted from the sanguinary pulp of what was once Bones’ face, gore slid from his chiseled arms. It was over. All of it.
My Remy looked up at me, slowly coming back to his senses. He realized that I’d been right there the whole time watching what he was doing. The rage on his features melted away in an instant and his eyes welled with years of spent anger, pain and anguish. He looked exhausted from so much vented emotion and ashamed at what I might think of him.
“Star...” I knew he was trying to find the words to apologize for that dark, merciless side of him that I’d just witnessed.
I could read it plainly on his face. His deep brown eyes shined with worry that he’d frightened me away by finally revealing his true self. I’d seen him face almost certain death on several occasions, seen him defy his family and turn his back on his whole life, but it was only right then with him looking at only me, that I’d ever seen Remy truly terrified.
He as afraid that the only person he couldn’t save me from was himself.
The only thing he couldn’t recover from—the only thing he was really scared of...was losing me.
Any worry about him losing control on me, of him being more killer than man, vanished. Whatever depths of violence Remy was capable of, was dwarfed by his concern for me and what I thought of him. I knew without the shadow of a doubt that no matter what happened in this crazy life of ours, only I would ever be completely safe from Remy.
I didn’t care if the world burned around us or what happened next, as long as I had him.
“I...” Remy started, his features wracked with pain.
“…did what was necessary,” I finished his sentence the way it was meant to be said, and hugged him with all of my strength. “You have nothing to apologize for. I’m with you until the end of the road.”
“No,” he whispered. I could hear it in his voice and feel it in his embrace. He’d come to realize that I accepted him, completely accepted him, for all that he was. That he could show me anything, everything, and that I couldn’t be scared away. I was his. “I... Love you.”