Hush

 

My eyes snapped open. It was pitch black. I wondered where the hell I was . . . then fragmented pieces of lost memory began flooding into my mind. I shook my head as the sound of deeply spoken Spanish words circled above my head . . . heavy footsteps on wooden floorboards . . . screams, shouting . . . and the sound of gunshots being fired.

No . . . I scrambled to get up. My head hit something immediately above me. I looked up. Light was creeping through some slats. My hand hit the wood above me. It moved a little, yet somehow it was sealed shut. I pushed and pushed, using what little strength I still had to force it open. With a snap, the wood gave way; it was a door, built into the floorboards of Sia’s closet downstairs.

“Sia!” I called as I climbed out, my voice quiet and hoarse—the after-effects of the seizure. I needed water. My mouth was bone dry. But my feet led me through the house instead. I checked each room, my heart beating faster with every step. “Aubin!” My chest tightened. Every room I went in was trashed, furniture thrown over on its side. “No,” I whispered, my skin slick with sweat.

I burst out of the front door. I ran as fast as I could toward the barn. I saw the blood coming from under the stalls before I’d even flicked on the light.

I didn’t bother looking, knowing that all Sia’s prized horses had been killed . . . then my feet ground to a stop when I saw a hand on the floor, blood pooled around the fingers as it lay limply on the concrete.

I was welded to the spot. Because it was a female hand. “Sia,” I whispered. My legs shook, but I made them move. I couldn’t breathe as I rounded the corner. Every fucking part of me was braced to find her gone. Then when dark hair came into view, I exhaled a quick breath and jumped to the girl’s side. “Clara,” I called gently and checked her pulse. But I didn’t need to . . . her eyes were staring up at the ceiling, frozen, Hades’ hand clutching her firmly in his death grip.

A gunshot wound tracked through to the center of her heart.

Shit. I got to my feet, searching around me, trying to figure out what the fuck to do. I raced back toward the house. I opened the garage door, jumping on the old Harley. I gunned it out of the ranch and onto the back roads that would lead me to the Hangmen.

With each mile the bike ate up, I tried to think on how long I was out . . . and who the fuck put me under the floorboards. And more than that, why the fuck didn’t they get in there too?

Clara had been warm, but below normal body temperature, which told me she had been there a while. “Fuck!” I screamed into the wind slapping my face.

Garcia. It had to be.

“Fuck!” I screamed again and turned right toward the compound. My hands shook on the handlebars. My body wanted to rest, but there was no fucking way that was happening.

Aubin.

Sia.

Fuck!

Zane and Lil’ Ash sat on the gate. I pulled to a halt. I saw them look at each other, obviously worried. “Open the fucking gate!” I yelled, revving the engine.

They looked at each other again. I was suspended. They’d have been given orders not to let me or Cowboy near this place. “It’s an emergency!”

Zane went for the cell, but Lil’ Ash met my eyes. Clearly seeing something on my face, he let me in. The gate had barely opened when I tore through it. I practically threw the bike to a stop and launched off the saddle. I ran, swaying slightly, and burst into the bar. The minute I did, my brothers jumped to their feet, hands on their guns.

AK rolled his eyes. “Fuck, Hush. Thought we were getting invaded.” His sniper eyes narrowed, and he pushed past Viking to say, “What’s wrong? You look like shit.”

“I need to see—”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Ky barreled out of the prez’s office and beelined for me. His blue eyes, the same fucking eyes as Sia’s, were red and tired . . . but filled with fucking wrath.

“They’ve got her,” I answered. Ky stopped dead in his tracks. I felt my face contort with fear and rage. “They’ve fucking got them both.”

The color drained from Ky’s cheeks. The brother didn’t move. Styx pushed past him and got in my face. His hands flew in sign, but the few words I’d managed to learn were a blur as I struggled to focus, still feeling the effects of the seizure.

“I don’t know what you’re saying!” I shouted.

AK stepped beside Styx, keeping his eyes on his hands. “What happened? Who got them?”

I shook my head, my feet needing to move, to go after them. But I didn’t know where the fuck they were.

“Garcia, I think . . .” I squeezed my eyes shut, racking my head for some kind of memory. “I heard Spanish . . .” I opened my eyes to find Styx’s eyes boring into mine. I dropped my gaze to the floor. My hand ran over my shaved head, over and over again, just so I had fucking something to do with it. “They killed all her horses.” I felt the tension in the room rise. “And her assistant . . . Clara. Fuck, the bitch was too young. Shot her in the heart.”

“Where were you?” AK asked the question, but I knew it had come from Styx. I was mute, the need to keep my seizures hidden soldering shut my lips.

“Where the fuck were you?” Ky’s voice was like death itself. I kept my head down, my heart fucking kicking into a sprint. Two hands slammed onto my chest and knocked me back. I collided with a table and chairs. I kept my ground, but once again Ky’s hands were on my cut, pulling me to smash against his chest. “Why have my sister and Cowboy been taken and you fucking haven’t? You were there, protecting her! Why the fuck has she gone, but you’re here?” he snarled. “Is it because you’re a fucking pussy? Because you fucking saw them coming and saved yourself? I should never have let you near her. You don’t fucking belong with her. Saving yourself, and—”

“Because I’m epileptic, motherfucker!” I smacked his hands from my cut and fucking pushed him back. I was done. So fucking done. Done with it all. With all these fuckers who kept saying I didn’t belong. I was fucking done. “I’m epileptic and I had a fucking seizure.” I went for him again, but hands grabbed me around the waist. I glanced down, seeing Nazi shit against my cut, and I fucking saw red. I spun and smashed my fist into Tanner’s jaw. His head snapped back. Tank dove forward and pulled Tanner back from my flying fists.

I turned, panting, and glared at Ky. “And I fucking belong with her. With both of them!” Tears of rage built behind my eyes. If Cowboy were here, he would be telling me to calm down. But he wasn’t. They’d fucking taken him . . . taken her . . . and I was out here on my fucking own.

“Let’s speak the fucking truth, brother. It’s because I’m black. You didn’t want your sister with a fucking half-breed, right? A mongrel?” I knew I should shut my mouth, but I couldn’t stop now I’d started. “The coon failed on protecting your sister—your sister who you’d just thrown to the fucking wolves, no protection of the ranch, because she was fucking a spook. If it had just been Cowboy, you wouldn’t have given two shits. But because I was there too, it became a real fucking issue for your Aryan self. Yeah, VP?” Ky opened his mouth, but I couldn’t stop. “This fucking club! You’re all just like everyone else! You only just started letting anyone of color in ten years ago. Only white brothers up until then.”

I glanced at the clock on the wall. My stomach twisted with dread. “Four hours,” I guessed, and felt my fucking heart shred. “It’s been about four hours since they were taken.”

“It ain’t because you’re black.” Ky’s voice was like thunder in the silent room. I worked on breathing. I worked on calming my pulse. I just worked on not falling apart when my best friend, my fucking brother, and the bitch I was fucking in love with . . . the only ones I’d ever let in . . . had been taken by a trafficker. A sadistic bastard who wanted to own Sia . . . and would probably kill Aubin for the inconvenience that she loved him too.

Ky’s boots entered my peripheral vision. “I couldn’t give two shits that you’re black. Fuck, you could be neon pink, or even a ginger—”

“Hey!” I heard Vike protest.

“But it ain’t because you’re black.”

“You get seizures?” AK asked. Looking up, I saw that Styx’s hands had been working.

“I’m coming to Mexico. I’m not staying behind. That’s my fucking bitch and best friend they’ve taken. I’m not getting grounded. And if I ain’t going with you, I’m going alone. I had a fucking seizure, and they moved me. Hid me, so I wasn’t taken. I don’t know why they didn’t hide too.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I woke up to fucking carnage, and them gone.”

Styx’s jaw clenched. He lifted his hands. “Not grounding you,” AK said, translating. The massive brother came to stand next to Ky. “You should’ve told us,” AK went on, following Styx’s hands.

“How do we get them back?”

“Church, now,” Ky ordered, and we all followed.

Ky spoke, translating for Styx. “We know where he lives. We’ve been there before.” I thought back to Sia, to how she said she managed to get out. Styx glanced at Ky, then the rest of us, and said, “I’ve been in close contact with Chavez, the Diablos’ prez. He agreed to help if shit went south with Garcia.”

Styx paused, and Ky, this time, spoke for himself. “Garcia is part of the Quintana cartel. When we went in before, he had a small operation; now it’s huge. Alfonso Quintana, the cartel boss, invested heavily in Garcia’s business.” Ky rolled his hand into a fist on the tabletop. “He doesn’t just traffic bitches now. He moves guns and snow.”

Styx signed and Ky said, “They’ve been encroaching on Diablo turf. Snow, mainly. Chavez is pissed.”

Ky looked at Styx. “Sia’s my sister. So I’m going in. Styx is too.” He glanced at me. “Hush will be in. Cowboy’s there too. Don’t know what they’ll do with him . . . if he’ll even make it to Mexico. It’s my sister he wants.”

My fucking heart cracked. My hand started shaking at the thought of Aubin gone. My leg bounced. I fucking heard his voice in my head. Calm down, mon ami. I wouldn’t believe he was dead until I saw his fucking cold body.

I wouldn’t be able to function if I did.

“The Klan works with them too.” Ky looked at Tank and Tanner. Tanner was paler than usual. His hands were gripping the edge of the table, and his eyes were unfocused. “They’re already at our throats. And Chavez heard that if we go against the cartel . . .” Ky looked to Styx. Styx nodded. “We’ll be going to war.”

The room plunged into a tense silence. I roved my eyes around the table. The brothers were all still, some looking at others, as Ky’s words hung in the air. War. I’d never been at war for the club. This chapter had been against the Diablos only a few years ago, but New Orleans had never been called in to help. I knew most of these brothers had fought in that war. The war that cost Styx his pop. And cost Ky and Sia both parents.

My attention stayed on Tanner. Because it wouldn’t just be a war for him; it would be against his family. I wasn’t sure his loyalty to the club would survive going against his daddy, uncle, and younger brother.

I got to my feet. “I’m in.”

Smiler got to his feet too. “I’m in.”

AK stood. Flame and Viking followed a second later. Tank, Bull . . . and finally Tanner got to his feet. He lifted his blue eyes and said, “I’m in.”

Ky stood, followed by Styx. Styx nodded. His hands lifted. “Then we go.”

My fucking chest swelled. Ky looked at me. “Someone told that fucker, Garcia, where you were.”

I nodded, trying to think  . . . “The vet,” I realized, and tried to remember his name. “Gomez. Tito Gomez.” I shook my head, more than pissed at myself, realizing we never had a chance to get Tanner to check his background because of everything that went down with Ky.

Ky nodded at Tanner. Tanner nodded back then left the room, no doubt to get what he could on the guy.

Styx lifted his hands. “We leave in thirty. Do whatever the fuck you have to do. We have a brother and club sister to get back.”

“And a few fucking Nazis and Mexicanos to pick a war with,” Viking added. He smiled. “My kind of fucking day!”

The brothers filed out. Just as I went to leave, Ky put his arm out, stopping me dead. “She’s strong,” he said. I heard a whole world of pain in my VP’s voice. How the fuck could there not be? The last thing Sia said to him was that she wanted nothing to do with him anymore.

“I know.” I pushed past his arm. “They both are.”

I walked out into the bar and took my pills from my cut. I swallowed them and went to the armory for guns. With every second that passed, I pictured their faces in my head. With every fucking breath I took, I let the years of name-calling, fucking punches I’d taken, and bruises gained build inside me until I was a walking ball of rage. And thirty minutes later as I got on Sia’s old man’s bike, Ky glancing at me on it like he was seeing a fucking ghost, we pulled out of the compound.

We had a vet to visit.

 

*****

 

Blood spattered against the fucker’s wall as Ky slammed another fist against his mouth. Tito fucking Gomez’s head snapped back . . . then the prick smiled. Blood clung to his white teeth. Ky’s white shirt was bright red. Styx stood behind the VP, stoic. But I could see in his hazel eyes that he was ready to fucking kill this bastard.

“You’ll crack,” Ky insisted, shedding his cut and shirt. His bare, ripped body came into view. Ky rolled his neck and cracked his knuckles. He took a knife and sliced it down the fucker’s chest. “Have a cousin in the Quintana cartel, huh?” the VP said, as if he were as calm as the fucking sky after a summer storm. His eyes told a different story. He was all fucking thunder and hurricanes.

Ky took the canister of gas he’d brought and poured it right over Gomez’s fresh cut. He screamed, but he kept his mouth shut. His teeth chattered with pain, and his knuckles were white as he gripped the chair he was tied to.

“Works with Garcia,” Ky went on, drawing another inch-long slash down the prick’s arm.

I stood to the side, shaking, needing to unleash fucking hell on this dick. As if sensing me, he turned his head. “Your friend’s tattoo gave you away.” I froze. “I had not long heard from my cousin. I hadn’t seen him in years. When he told me who he was looking for, I knew that Garcia’s Elysia Willis had to be Helen Smith. Your boyfriend’s tattoo confirmed it.”

Tanner burst through the door, Gomez’s cell in his hand. “Got a lead off this asshole’s cell. His cousin is definitely working with Garcia. Spoke to the Diablos’ prez. Diablos know where to go once we’re there. Their sergeant-at-arms is ex-Quintana cartel. Did some work with Garcia a while back. He’s confirmed he’s still in the same place as years ago.” He shrugged. “Brother is pretty fucking good at extracting, from what Chavez says. And better still, knows Garcia and his fuckers inside out.”

Ky turned to Gomez. He took Styx’s German knife and slammed it into the fucker’s chest. As Gomez screamed, Ky pulled the knife out and looked up. I could see the war on his face, but he said, “You want the last blow?”

I was moving before I’d even taken a breath. “She fucking trusted you,” I snarled at his fucked-up face.

I saw something that looked like regret flash in his eyes. “If I hadn’t given her up . . . if I’d hidden her identity, they would have come for me instead.”

“Well, now you got us to deal with,” I spat, feeling no fucking sympathy for the spineless cunt. Holding the handle tightly, I raised it, about to strike when Gomez said, “It was . . . your fault.” He coughed, spraying blood onto his chest. “You and the cowboy gave her away.” He smiled. “If they die . . . it’s on you.”

Before he had even finished the last word, I slammed the knife through his heart and watched as his eyes clouded with death and his head dropped. I wiped his blood off the knife and gave it back to Styx. He looked like he wanted to say something, but before he could, I walked away from the traitor’s body and got on my bike, ready to get the fuck to Laredo and the Diablos.

Because I knew what he said was true.

Them being taken . . . it was all my fucking fault.

 

*****

 

Chavez met us inside the compound. Us on one side, twelve Tejanos staring us down on the other. Styx stepped forward with Ky. Chavez did the same. A lean muscled guy, looked to be in his late twenties, with long black hair and light brown eyes, stood beside Chavez.

Styx shook his hand. I’d heard the stories. Our old prez, Styx’s old man, had lost his wife to the Diablos’ old prez—Chavez’s papa. Styx grew up without a mother. Both fathers had died in the war. Ky’s too. Then, when he took the gavel, Chavez refused good old daddy’s name, Sanchez, in favor of his birth mother’s, Chavez. Daddy issues oozed from the fucker’s pores. It was as fucked up as this outlaw world got.

They’d helped us get Phebe back from Meister, as long as a favor was one day returned. This time, it was personal. Chavez pointed at his sergeant-at-arms. The guy’s tatted arms were crossed over his chest.

“AK?” I heard Vike whisper. “Fucker’s good looking, huh?”

I rolled my eyes at the red-headed giant who never could keep his fucking mouth shut. The Diablo SAA turned his eyes to our secretary . . . and the fucker smiled, revealing a silver tongue ring.

“A pussy tickler. Nice,” Vike said in approval. AK must have told him to shut up; silence fell.

“This is Shadow,” Chavez said. Shadow tilted his chin in greeting. “He’ll be taking you in.” Chavez paused. “Some of you. All can’t go.”

“I’m going.” I moved to stand behind Ky.

Shadow looked at me. Styx lifted his hands and signed. Ky translated. “Me and Ky, Hush.” Styx looked behind him. “Tanner. You’ll be needed too.” Tanner’s head whipped up in surprise. The fucker paled. But he nodded. Styx narrowed his eyes. “That good?”

Tanner shifted on the spot. “Yeah.”

“You got the tech knowledge. Might need it.” Finally, Styx looked at AK. “You’re on sniper duty. You’re coming, but you are hanging back.” He met the eyes of the rest of the brothers. “Y’all will watch the road for us getting back. Fucking ammo, knives, everything you got.”

“You got us too,” Chavez said. Styx assessed the Diablo prez with narrowed eyes. He ran his hand down his stubbled face. Chavez’s gaze slid to Tanner and Tank, his lip curling in disgust. He addressed Styx again. “The minute Quintana and Garcia joined forces with the Klan, they were fucking off our radar. And when they supported them in taking our turf over here in Texas, we were done. You need us to support, you got it. It’s selfish. Not a favor to you fuckers.”

“Fair enough,” Ky agreed. “We can work with that.” He looked at Shadow. “You’re the ex-cartel member that can get us in?”

“Know that place like the back of my hand. Got four years working there. I’ll get you in and out.”

“You wanna get somewhere unseen, he’s your man,” said Chavez.

“When do we leave?” I asked.

Shadow looked at an invisible watch on his naked wrist. “I’d say pretty fucking quick. Tomorrow’s off-loading day. Cargo goes to auction. Busy. Men are occupied. It’s our best chance, or we’ll have to wait another week.”

Cargo. Bitches. As long as one of them wasn’t Sia, I didn’t give a shit.

“I’ve been schooled on the ones we’re getting out. I got an idea where they’ll be.” Shadow smiled. “It’ll be a fucking breeze.” He raised one eyebrow. “But there’ll be killing, right?”

“Right,” Ky confirmed, voice thick with rage.

Shadow smiled again. “Exactly what I wanted to hear.”