Chapter Three (A)
Pyro
I’m sitting at the bar in the clubhouse with Smokey and Rap as we share a joint when suddenly the clubhouse door flings open and one of our prospects barges in. “There’s a chick, she says her name is Salt, says she’s a Red Lady, she’s outside of the gates,” he gasps. “Should I allow her in?”
I roll my eyes.
Fucking prospects.
“Is she wearing a cut?” I demand.
“She’s a part of this chapter; she’s from the female chapter. They never wait at the fuckin’ gate.” Smokey speaks up. I wing my head in his direction, shocked he spoke. “Go let her fuckin’ in or your prospecting days are over. Your one and final warning.”
We shake our heads as we watch him scurry away on the cameras above the liquor shelf, and Rap chuckles as the prospect jogs back on shaky legs to let her in.
“The Red Ladies, they are to be assigned entrance codes from now on.” I make a mental note for the Church meeting coming up.
“What is she even doing here?” Smokey questions me.
“We have a shit ton of changes comin’, you’ll get the rundown during Church,” I inform them. “Plus, Salt is on duty with me for the next few days.”
“Smokey laughs out loud. “At least you’re not with Lucy. She’s more fit to partner with Sniper, he did train her after all.”
“No, shit.
The clubhouse door opens, and in she enters; the beautiful blonde Salt, vice president of the Red Ladies, all decked out in her badass biker gear. “I don’t care for your newest prospect,” she complains, “he’s a fuckin’ moron.”
“We’re on limited options, darlin’,” I smirk.
Smokey speaks as Salt is about to open her mouth. “Sniper and Piper are in a good place. He’s fucked both you and Lucy. Is any of it gonna be a problem for you Salt?”
“I’m so proud of you, Smokey. You’ve found your words.” Salt teases him.
“You’re still a bitch, I see,” he groans.
“No… you don’t say. I earned my cut like you motherfucker. I may not be Lucy, but I’ll still square up against your ass, don’t you forget it either.”
I chuckle while I pass the joint back to Rap.
“Okay, Pyro, where we headed to?” Salt plops down beside me and motions for Rap to pass the bottle of whiskey. “I’m desperate for some good whiskey. Dizzy has been tight on drinking with all the territory stuff going on.”
“Your chapter is smaller than ours, makes sense,” I say to her while she slams a shot. “That’s all you get until after our 48-hour watch is concluded.”
Smokey chuckles and Salt narrows her eyes at him. “Are you sure he’s alright?” she questions the room. “This is the most I’ve heard out of him, ever.”
He chuckles again. “Bitch.”
I stand, put my hands on her shoulders, squeeze them, and then reach for my crutches. “Let’s roll, Salt.”
“Okay,” she retorts with a small laugh. “I want whatever Smokey’s on after our watch.”
“He isn’t on anythin’ Salt,” I promise. “We’re takin’ one of the SUV’s. I’m not cleared to ride m’lady yet.”
Salt’s body stiffens when she watches me adjust the crutches under my arms, and her eyes take pity, but not the kind of pity that pisses me off. Her pity is because she understands not being able to ride.
A story for another time.
Her eyes soften as she motions with her hands. “Lead the way.”
∞∞∞
“What’s new?” Salt questions while we take watch in an abandoned warehouse, three miles away from the MC.
I light up a smoke and shove my lighter back into my cut with a shrug. “You wanna paint my nails too?”
She narrows her eyes and then turns towards the window. “No need to be a fucking dick, Pyro.”
With a sigh, I lean into the window frame and peer out. “I know. You're only trying to pass the time.”
“Exactly.”
“ZZ and Storm are adopting a baby,” I tell her to make up for being a dick. Salt’s always been cool with me; she’s never been the dramatic type, she’s laid back.
Almost Smokey’s twin with her demeanor.
Her head turns towards me, and a small smirk is on her face. “He’s gonna start all over again with the whole diaper thing?” she laughs. “Tea’s an adult.”
My leg goes stiff with pain “Fuck.” I grunt and toss my cigarette to the ground.
Salt’s smile fades, and she straightens. “Sit on the window seal.”
I bite my lower lip as I bite out my words. “Fuckin’ sucks, though.”
She takes my crutches and maneuvers me to the ledge. “Sit, babe.”
Fucking shit you fuckin’ pussy.
“You. Are. Not. Weak.”
“How the fuck?” I swing my head in her direction.
“Pyro, I’ve never met a manlier man,” she chides. “You were shot in the same leg as before, and there was previous damage; it’s natural for your body to be taking its time with healing.”
I smirk. “Thanks for the ego boost, darlin’.”
Salt leans my crutches sideways. “You’ll be good as new before you know it.”
I nod.
She’s right.
“You ever tell the guys I ran into you while you were on your bender?” she questions.
I chuckle and tear my gaze away from hers. “You didn’t run into me.”
“So, no?” she taunts. “Embarrassed you were knee deep in vagina and didn’t even know your own name?”
“Yes,” I groan, “fuck… my cock still aches.”
“It does not!” she laughs.
“Naw, they don’t need to know how bad off I was.”
Salt sits down next to my crutches and leans against the glass; a frown creases her forehead. “Pyro… look.”
I swivel around and peer out the stained, cracked glass window and follow her line of sight. “Fuck.”
We both stand, pull out our guns and look around the room while cocking them back. I motion to the corner behind a beam where I can hit them from the front, and Salt motions to the opposite side of the room where she can cover me from a safe distance.
I leave the crutches and wobble over to the beam with quiet steps; once there, I shoot off a text to the brothers to let them know me and Salt are about to be hit by five members of the cartel.
I tuck my phone back into my pocket and reach into my cut for my silencer bar and screw it onto the end of my gun.
They must have more spotters than we realized.
I knew shit wouldn’t stay quiet for long.
I close my eyes and listen to the sounds of their footsteps as they walk up the concrete stairs of the warehouse.
I reopen my eyes and peer over at Salt.
She points one finger up and then points down, and I nod my agreement.
They left a man downstairs.
No bother, he’ll come up once he realizes the other men are stuck in an ambush.
I take a deep breath in.
I’m not taking another fucking bullet, I’m done eating lead.
When a set of feet hit the platform at the top of the stairs, I peek one more glance at Salt, and she winks.
That’s right baby, we got this.
I lift my arms, lean around the corner of the beam and take aim.
The short shit doesn’t see me, and I feel a grin lift on my face as I fire, and he drops dead, his blood splatters onto the next guy as he drops down a few steps.
Not gonna save you fucker.
I glance over at Salt and smile when I see her cover her mouth to muffle her chuckle as the Mexicans curse rapidly in Spanish.
Salt flicks her head to the side, and my eyes snap back to the stairs where another one is inching his way into the open room.
I roll my eyes, take aim and fire a headshot.
Two down.
Three to go.
The last two on the stairs come rushing up with open fire, and I tuck my head back behind the beam.
Shit.
“Over here, fuckers!” Salt taunts them.
Fuck!
I ready my aim and step out from behind the beam and land a shot into one of their backs.
I fling myself back behind the beam.
I hear Salt’s gun go off and then a thud.
I close my eyes and wait for her two taps, it’s the signal we’ve all been taught, and when I hear it, it’s music to my ears. It means she’s okay, she didn’t get hit by their stray bullets.
One more.
Fuckers need to learn to study sound.
When the asshole downstairs begins to rush up the stairs, I throw caution in the wind and come out from behind the beam.
I have my gun trained on him the moment he hits the platform.
I lower my aim to his right knee and fire as he lets off a shot.
It misses me by a mile.
I give him props, he didn’t fall to the ground when I shot out his knee a moment ago.
Salt moves out from her hiding spot with her gun trained on him as he hops around on one leg.
“Too easy,” she grits through her teeth, “kinda pisses me off.”
“No doubt,” I reply with my voice raised because the asshole is now screaming. Delayed response to his wound I suppose. “I need to dig out my phone, keep your gun trained on him.”
“No, shit,” she smarts off as I reach into my pocket.
I hit speed dial and retrain my gun as Braxxon answers. “Talk to me!” he barks.
“Four dead, one alive. What do you want me to do?” I bark back.
“Break all his fingers, crack them backward and send him back.”
“A message.”
“A message,” he concurs, and I hang up.
“You wanna break some fingers?” I ask Salt as I put my phone away.
“That’s more Lucy’s thing.”
“I offered.” I shrug.
“How sweet of you,” she coos.
For a moment I almost believe his wound doesn't faze him, but then he curses, falls to the floor and passes out.
“Well… that’s boring as fuck.”
“Too bad,” Salt teases.