CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Maverick

The Next Morning

My head hurts like hell, my body even more so as I shift uncomfortably, waking up perched on the ground against my bike. Letting out a yawn, I glance at Gears, the bar I spent my entire evening at last night, drinking, trying to forget about the intoxicating kiss I shared with Sadie. And whenever a woman at the bar would hit on me, I ignored them because the only thing I could think about was Sadie and the fact she left straight after our incredible kiss.

It's driving me insane.

This fucking woman is making me crazy.

I didn't want to return to the clubhouse last night because that would mean going back to the one place where I didn't know how to control my feelings for her.

And that scares the absolute hell out of me.

So I slept in the parking lot, against my bike, instead of facing reality.

Suddenly, a ping comes through on my cell.

Loki:Pres has noticed you've been at Gears all night. Just checking in. You still alive?

With a huff, I type back.

Me:Barely. I don't like tequila anymore. Tell Navy to put on some extra grease for me. I need to soak this shit up. Leaving now.

Loki:Don't get pulled over by the heat. I don't feel like bailing you out today. Ride safe, brother.

Me:Be there soon.

Standing, I stretch as I pull myself up off the concrete. My back is aching like a motherfucker. I need to take a piss, but I can wait until I get back to the club. Honestly, I know I am likely still over the limit to ride home, but the clubhouse isn't far. I just need to make it back in one piece without the heat tailing me.

Getting on my ride, I take off, trying not to break the speed limit and obey the road rules so I don't draw any attention to myself. When I glance in my rearview, I note a couple of SUVs tailing me. Furrowing my brow, I make a turn I normally wouldn't, but they follow.

Fuck! I definitely have a tail.

I can try to outrun them, but that could draw attention I can't afford right now.

I have to play this out.

Hammering down a little faster, trying to weave in and out of traffic to put some space between me and the cars, I also pull out my cell from my pocket and dial Alpha.

He doesn't take long to answer. "Hear you're on your way in. You've been on a bender all night. Are you calling me while riding? What the fuck is going on with you, Mav?"

"I'm pretty sure I have a tail. Two SUVs on my ass following me the entire way back to the clubhouse. How do you want me to handle this?" I don't pussy foot about. He can chastise me about last night later.

Alpha pauses briefly, then talks, "Can you make out who they are?"

"Windows are blacked out. They're not making any hostile moves, but they're definitely on my ass."

"All right. Women and children head straight to your designated lockdown areas. Brothers, we have hostiles closing fast," Alpha calls out, then returns to talk to me. "You lead them straight to us. We'll be here waiting. Watch your damn six!"

"Got it. And Pres?"

"Yeah?"

"You make sure Clover is where she needs to be."

"She'll be in her lockdown area with Sadie and the other women. Don't worry, she'll be—"

"Wait! What? Sadie is still there?" I blurt out, my heart pounding harder, knowing she's in danger now too.

Alpha exhales. "She never left last night, Mav."

"Fuck!" I grit my teeth, hammering down harder to get to the clubhouse as fast as possible.

"ETA, Mav?" Alpha asks.

"Pulling down the feeder road now. They're pulling back. Not sure what they're doing, Pres, but I'm coming in hot."

"Rip has the gates open for you."

"Got it!" I reply, ending the call and shoving my cell in my pocket while racing for the gates.

Looking behind me, the SUVs are still following, but they have slowed their approach. I am not hanging around to find out who these fuckers are as I skid through the open clubhouse gates. Rip greets me as I park my bike, then jump off while Alpha, Loki, Ink, Strings, and Dutch run over to me, concern etched on their faces.

Dutch hands me a rifle, and I cock it.

Alpha turns to me. "Any ideas?"

"Vehicles look luxury…" I shake my head. "Could be some kind of government official, Lord knows. Back in NOLA, when the Baroness came to town, it was all luxury cars and bullshit. Fucked if we want to be pulled into any drama like that, Pres. It took Hurricane everything he had in him and the club to get rid of that bitch."

"I've had enough of my own bullshit with the government and military to be pulled into anyone else's shit. Whoever this is, they can fuck the hell off in their expensive cars. Noah, Hayes, Weaver, Eggs… go see where our friends are at," Alpha declares.

The rest of us stand back in a row, guns drawn, as the two prospects and two patched members slowly walk up to the gate, glancing around it.

Eggs turns back, shrugging his shoulders. "They're nowhere to be seen, Pres."

"Rip, go check the farm," Alpha calls out, and Rip runs off.

It doesn't make any sense.

They were definitely following me.

Why make a show of it? And not make any moves?

Then, suddenly, a blast rocks through the morning air from the farm's direction. We all duck from the force of the wave, then spin as fast as we can, turning in the direction of the farm. We glance at each other and then take off for the clubhouse.

Just as we make it inside, we spot Rojas Cartel assholes racing in through the back of the clubhouse, guns drawn.

Fuck!

We break apart, rushing for separate designations of the clubhouse as bullets start flying. I run directly for the pool table, ducking and weaving. A bullet slams straight into the side of the table when I duck down behind it.

Ink slides in behind it with me. In unison, we tip the table over, using it as a shield, while the bullets continue to pelt into the green felt. The table has been reinforced with steel, so we know we're safe behind it. Balls clang onto the floor and roll off in all directions.

I grab my rifle, bringing it up against my shoulder to check how many bullets are left. It's fully loaded, so I glance at Ink with a smirk. "You ready to go to war?" I yell out to him.

"Let's fuck up these motherfuckers," he yells.

We cock our guns, then slide out from behind the pool table on either side. A chunk of wood from the pool table flies off beside my thigh. It catches my eye for a brief second before a cartel soldier slams the butt of his gun into the side of my damn head. My vision blurs, and my rifle falls from my hands instantly as I drop to one knee. I turn to look back right when the soldier strikes me again in the face. This time, I fall flat on my back, the metallic tang of blood oozing from my lip.

As the soldier aims his gun at me, out of the corner of my eye, I spot a pool ball beside me. I reach out and grab it before the asshole has a second to pull the trigger. I pitch the ball as hard and as fast as I can at the soldier's crotch. It hits him with an intense force, his eyes widen with such vigor that he looks like a Māori performing the Haka. His tongue falls out of his mouth as his gun drops right beside me. The asshole falls to his knees beside me as I scramble, picking up his gun, aiming it at his head, and pulling the trigger. His brains explode against the side of the pool table, and then his dead body flops to the floor. "Gotta keep your eyes on the ball," I mock, then spit out a line of blood.

Turning, I spot Noah hanging upside down from the second-level staircase of the Chapel, his feet hanging onto the railing, his hands holding a rope wrapped around a soldier's neck as he chokes him. I smirk, turning to watch Loki slamming a broken alcohol bottle into the neck of a soldier. His jugular severs, and blood rains over Loki's cut. He slams the soldier into another one, rushing his way, then pulls out his gun, shooting him in the face like it's just another day on the job.

Turning my back, knowing these guys have it handled and don't need me, I run toward Eggs, who's in a hand-to-hand, and another soldier is running his way. I need to get my ass over there now. I take off running, gun in hand, to reach the second soldier, then I bring my gun up, aim for the back of his kneecaps, and fire off two rounds. The bullets hit their mark, and he jolts forward, landing straight into the soldier who's fighting Eggs. The asshole drops to the floor, groaning out in pain as he begins to roll around, holding onto his knees. The other soldier glances back, allowing Eggs to lay a fist into his face—the knockout blow. The soldier drops to his knees, and Eggs draws out his knife and slices it across the soldier's throat. Blood pools over Egg's boots before he drops the knife to the floor, dipping his head at me, then takes off.

Suddenly, my arms are being pulled back.

Goddammit! I'm shoved into the side of the pool table, my back hurts like a motherfucker, but I use all my force to kick this bastard off me. He scurries back a little but then lunges for me again. "Defiance scum!" he yells as I move to bring my gun up to shoot him, but another soldier moves in from the side, catching my attention.

I shift my arm to shoot the soldier to my side as he races for me. The rounds of ammunition pound his chest, and his body jerks with the hits, but the first soldier grabs my arm, jerking it back. I let out a sharp, high-pitched sound as my shoulder pops, the gun instantly dislodging from my grip.

My breath is knocked from me when the soldier slams his fist into my gut, and with my breath already gone from my shoulder being dislocated, my head goes woozy from the lack of air. I drop to my knees, trying to keep myself awake, but the soldier uses his boot, kicking my chest, forcing me over onto my back.

Slowly, my breathing returns, but I'm in too much pain to be able to fight back as the soldier reaches down, grabs Egg's knife with a salacious grin on his face, and kneels over me, the glistening steel of the blade shining in the light of the chaos surrounding us.

My breaths come in short and sharp as my mind wanders to Clover.

I hope she'll be okay without me.

And Sadie? We never got to figure out whatever this is between us.

The soldier lifts the knife. I close my eyes as a vision of Sadie floods my vision, and he slams the blade into my side. I scream out as pain ripples through me. It's so intense I can't help but open my eyes, losing the image of Sadie to see the soldier shifting the blade to my throat for the kill.

Suddenly, Poppy slides out from behind the pool table, gun in hand, like she doesn't give a shit about the madness surrounding her, and she rushes in behind the soldier on top of me, presses the gun to the back of his head, and pulls the trigger before he even realizes she's there. The front of his skull bursts open. His brain and blood splatter all over my chest and neck before his limp body falls on top of mine.

My heart races so fast I can hardly keep it under control as I shove the guy off me with my one good arm. Poppy glances around the room as if she's assessing her next target.

"What the fuck, Poppy? Hide! You need to hide. Your father's gonna go batshit crazy knowing you're out here," I grumble, somehow managing to sit myself up, moving my hand over the gash on my side, blood oozing through my fingers.

She stares at me, her brow raised. "I just saved your ass, didn't I?"

"Yes. But you are a kid. You're not an assassin-in-training anymore. This is not your job. Go and fucking hide."

"I can help," she practically screams at me.

"Poppy, no!" I warn her as another soldier comes in to attack. I move to stand, to get ready to defend the two of us by stepping in front of her, but I groan, the pain in my side making me slow and weak.

Poppy shoots him between the eyes.

Dead.

Just like that!

"See?"

"Jesus Christ," I mumble.

Haven slides in from outside with her knives and begins slicing soldiers with ruthless abandon.

"You going to be okay?" Poppy asks.

"I'll be fine. You need to find somewhere to hid—" Poppy doesn't let me finish. She takes off to help Haven, and I watch them working as a team.

Merciless.

Lethal.

Unrelenting.

This child, this seven-year-old kid, needs fucking therapy.

She needs to be deprogrammed or something.

The club has a problem with Poppy that we didn't know existed.

Every part of me hurts like a bitch. I'm having trouble moving, so I go to the nearest seat and sit. All I can do now is casually shoot the nearest cartel assholes who try to come near me.

Eventually, there is only one soldier left.

Alpha drags him by his collar into the middle of the clubroom with the rest of the guys. Haven and Poppy are there, and he shoves him onto a chair in the middle of the bloody and broken clubhouse. Alpha rears back and slaps him across the face. The asshole instantly begins laughing.

Alpha glares at him. "Did Rico send you cunts to take us out?"

The soldier slowly smiles and then lets out a small chuckle. "We serve the Rojas Cartel. We live for the cartel. You took out our shipment and our men on the highway. Consider this his payback."

"Not much of a payback when you're alldead."

The soldier chuckles, but it's not playful. It's malicious. "The payback wasn't to kill you, Alpha. It was to bankrupt you. That explosion you heard wasn't your typical bomb. It was a business killer."

We all stare at each other.

What. The. Fuck?