Chapter 14

FOURTEEN

GNAW

Women scream,and men grunt and shout. I should hate it, but I don't.

I feel alive.

The sounds of the guns firing hurt my ears, but it's a pain I enjoy.

And then it all ceases.

Silence surrounds us.

Turning to Atomic, I jerk my chin. He's covered in sweat and blood, though the blood doesn't appear to be his own. I shift my gaze to Clink. He's the same. But something isn't right. Something seems off.

"That was too easy," I grind out.

Atomic's gaze flicks up to meet mine. He looks about as worn and battered as I feel. I'm not sure we really did anything other than aim and shoot. But the way the women are all huddled together in their barely-there attire, you would think we all just fought the battle of a lifetime.

"Too easy," Atomic states in agreement.

I hum, my gaze flicking around the room and taking it all in. This isn't anyone's home. This is a front. Everything looks as if it is from a hotel or something. Like it was bought in bulk as a set from a showroom somewhere.

This shit is staged.

The girls are all staring at us, trembling as they huddle together. They are wide-eyed and clearly fearful, but I'm not sure if it's necessarily because they were kidnapped, or maybe they aren't who they were portrayed to be, and we look like the bad guys here.

"Yeah," I murmur. "Too easy," I repeat. "That should have never gone down so effortlessly. Those men should have never just let us kill them. They weren't important. Those were the patsies. Without a fucking doubt. Those men self-sacrificed for their cause, whatever that may be."

Clink clears his throat. Turning my head, I look over to him. "What?" I ask when he doesn't say anything immediately.

"I was just thinking…" His words trail off for a moment, and then he shifts his gaze from mine to Atomic's. "If these men are the patsies, if this is a distraction, what is it a distraction for?"

I take a step backward and shift my attention toward the front door. Holy fucking shit. He's right.

Sucking in a breath, I chew on the inside of my cheek and try to think about what they could be doing, but all I can think of is the bar, and that shit makes me sick to my stomach because I know Kyle is there.

"Sal's," I whisper. "That's where they are."

"I'll stay here," Clink grunts. "Monitor cleanup."

The three of us leave the house without a response. I don't even bother looking behind me as I turn toward my bike. I climb on, start the engine with a roar, and don't even attempt to keep my tires from squealing as I ride away from the house and toward the bar.

I am over an hour from Pineville.

If someone is already there, I am fucked. Completely fucking fucked. And so is Kyle. If anything happens to her, it's on my head. Just looking into her eyes, I know she has been through a lot of shit. She doesn't need more. Not from me.

The rumbling of the bikes behind me is in the near distance, but I don't slow down. They can catch up to me. I ride. Hard and fast, just like I'm going to fuck Kyle later.

Once I know she's okay.

Once I know that the Southern Mafia has not tried to use her or anyone else at Sal's as leverage.

Once I know she is safe.

The Southern Mafia had been fucking with Sal, that's been made clear. They've been demanding he pay them for a while, but I didn't think they were ready to strike yet. But as I ride closer to the bar, a thought flashes through my head.

What if they were watching us.

Sure, the Dark Horse MC thought we were one step ahead of them, but we got started a little too late. If they had been watching Sal, that means they were watching him talk to us.

They watched us show up, hash out plans for the expansion. Watched us cross the Texas border and head straight for what we thought was their headquarters. Unfortunately, I don't think they're completely stupid.

They've been around since before the Dark Horse MC. They're an old establishment. They probably have more than one meeting place. So, as much as I want to believe we're so much smarter than them, we fell right into their goddamn trap.

When I pull up to the bar, I notice the parking lot is empty save for Kyle's car. None of the strippers" cars are even here. Fuck. Instinctually, I want to charge into the bar and start moving room by room, looking for Kyle.

I don't.

Instead, I wait the whole two minutes it takes for Atomic and King to appear. Climbing off my bike, I stand next to Kyle's car and glance through the windows. There is nothing that would raise alarm. Everything looks exactly how it did the last time I saw it.

When Atomic and King turn their engines off, dismount from their bikes, and reach my side, I don't have to explain to them what has me pausing from entering.

"You got enough ammo?" King asks.

That's a double-edged question. Because clearly, your gun can have enough, but a person never can.

"I have enough that I can get through whatever is thrown our way once we walk into the building," I state.

Atomic laughs, but it quickly dies. "No other cars, not Sal"s or even the bartender's. I don't like this."

I hum and jerk my chin toward the building. There is a moment of silence in which none of us moves, the stillness around us a little too much. It almost feels like it's a silence so deafening that it's causing high-pitched screeching in my ears.

I'm not sure if the others hear it. If they do, they don't say anything. Slowly, without speaking, we move in unison toward the back door of the bar. Atomic reaches for the handle of the door first, turning it as he attempts to tug it open.

"Locked," he grumbles.

"I could shoot it open," King suggests.

For whatever reason, that makes me laugh. "The front is probably unlocked," I say, lifting my hand and pointing toward the front parking lot.

Wordlessly, we move simultaneously, as a single unit, to the front of the building. This time, King reaches for the handle of the front door and turns it before he tugs on it. The door opens, slowly.

Atomic is the first to step inside, and maybe I should fight him on that, but I'm not sure I want to be the first to see whatever is in there waiting for us. The impending doom is too much, a black cloud that threatens to choke me.

"It's empty," he calls out.

King jerks his chin toward the open doorway. Clearly a sign that it's my turn to step inside. I move through the door, holding my breath as I step into the empty bar. It is empty. Really empty. Too empty. You can feel it. Nobody has been here.

"What the fuck?" King hisses as he steps up beside me.

"Eerie," I point out.

"Really fucking eerie," Atomic grunts.

Instead of staying where we are, together, as we've done this whole time, we move toward the back hallway. If Sal is here, he will be somewhere in his office. Atomic steps into his office. Empty.

"The stripper room?" King calls out as he opens the door. "Empty."

Reaching for the door handle of the gambling room, I turn it and push it open. "Empty," I call out.

"What the fuck?" Atomic hisses as he turns around to face us.

Then, before either King or I can respond to him, Atomic's cell rings. He digs the device out of his pocket and slides his thumb across the screen before he lifts it to his ear. We silently stare at him, waiting to find out what is happening.

"I'm here," he grinds out. "Where is she? Where's Sal?" Atomic demands. "We'll be there, but I'm telling you right now if this is some sort of game, I'm going to take that as a personal attack, and that will mean war."

Fuck.

War.

This cannot be good. At all. And for the first time in my life as a Dark Horse MC member, I'm wondering if we would even win this war.

KYLE

The manin the suit would be cute, if he weren"t a complete asshole. And by asshole, I mean that he somehow figured out who I was and who Xavier is, because he's standing right next to him.

Assholes—all of them.

And they've kidnapped me. Now I'm sitting on a chair in a strange room, at a strange house, wondering if I'll get out of here alive. I'm going to assume I won't live to see my freedom ever again, and my heart aches at the thought.

"What is this going to accomplish?" I chance asking.

Xavier smiles at me, and I know what his smile means. I want no part of it. The smile is curved upward, almost catlike. His eyes are narrowed, his nostrils flared, and he's panting slightly.

He thinks he's caught me now.

He has me, and there is nowhere for me to go. He's going to get what he wants from me. But I would rather die before I let him take it, and I will be dead before I give it to him willingly. He would have to take it from me, because I refuse to willingly give that man another piece of me.

I am done. I am out. I have nothing left for him.

"I don't know about this guy," Xavier says, jerking his thumb toward the man in the three-piece suit who is standing in the corner, his gaze fixated on me. "But I'm leaving here with you in tow."

"I'll have to be dead then, because I am not leaving with you," I sneer.

The man in the suit barks out a laugh, and Xavier's face turns beet red in an instant. He's pissed. I watch as he balls his fist at his side. I know he wants nothing more than to pound that balled-up fist into my face right now. He doesn't, only because he's being watched.

This man in the suit holds power. I'm not sure what kind, but he wields something big. Otherwise, Xavier would have already hit me. I challenged him. I made someone laugh at him. I made a fool out of him. And Xavier typically would never stand for that.

Xavier opens his mouth to respond, but the man in the suit speaks instead, effectively cutting him off. I watch as he moves toward me, closer with every word he says.

"We want the Dark Horse MC to know their place," he states.

"Who are you?" I chance asking.

He smiles, and although it isn't as telling as Xavier's, it is no less scary. This is the man with power, a man who is used to that power, and he will without a doubt always get what he wants, the way he wants it.

I don't like anything about that.

He is a lot more dangerous than Xavier could ever be, I can tell just by looking at him.

The stranger continues to make his way toward me, stepping in front of Xavier. He holds my gaze, and I'm unable to look away. Then he slowly crouches down in front of me, his eyes never leaving mine. I suck in my breath, holding it, unsure of what to expect next.

Thankfully, he doesn't reach out to touch me in any way. I wouldn't be able to shy away from his touch, considering I'm tied to a chair, and I know my face would show the disgust in my features if he tried. I can't move at all. I'm completely stuck. He chuckles before he speaks. With his words, I let my breath escape slowly, evenly.

"My name is Matthew," he rasps. "That is all you need to know."

"Are Sal and Dennis okay?" I ask, my throat dry and my body trembling at the thought of something happening to sweet Sal.

Matthew watches me, unspeaking, unmoving. He straightens his legs. My eyes follow his move as if I'm going to learn something from him straightening his legs. I don't understand why he has me completely mesmerized, waiting with bated breath on what he's going to say next.

"Sal and Dennis aren't your concern. I would worry about your own head, not theirs."

Instead of saying anything else, I decide to press my lips together and forcibly shut up. This cannot be good. None of it. And this Matthew is not someone I can be a smartass to. I have a feeling, where Xavier is scared of him, Matthew is not someone who is scared of anyone at all.

That's terrifying.