BULLET: Lords of Carnage MC Read online

  In the meantime, Tweak smashes the lock on the small side door and kick it open with his foot. We all file inside, until we’re standing in the center of the space. It’s empty except for some old cords of rotting wood, a few saw horses, and an ancient-looking riding lawn mower. There’s not much light in the place — only one naked bulb hanging from a six-foot cord in the center of the ceiling — and it takes a bit for our eyes to adjust. When mine do, I turn to look at Six. She hasn’t said a word since we arrived. Her face is tense, her eyes unfocused. Almost like she’s withdrawn into herself.

  “You okay?” I murmur.

  She gives me an imperceptible little nod. “I’m fine.” Her voice is distant. “Just let me be, Bullet.”

  We wait, mostly in silence. The time of the meet-up comes. Ten more minutes go by. I start to feel restless.

  Suddenly, Tweak pipes up from the doorway. “They’re here.”

  We get into position. I’m on one side of Tank, Lug Nut and Striker on the other. Six stands in the middle, next to Tank. We hear the crunch of tires on gravel. Then the slam of car doors.

  A group of four men enters the pole barn. Tweak moves to stand on my side, in front of me. I resist the urge to reach up and check my beard.

  “Gentlemen,” Tank announces in a jovial voice. “Glad you could make it.”

  The tall one in the middle seems to be the one in charge. He’s thin but wiry-looking, and heavily bearded, dressed in a black turtleneck under a black suit. He doesn’t bother with formalities. “That’s the girl,” he intones, flicking his gaze to her.

  “It is,” Tank agrees. “A prime piece, if I do say so myself.”

  “How old?”

  “She told me she was sixteen when we met,” Tank says smoothly. “Though I suspect she might be younger.”

  The bearded guy takes a step forward. “She is a natural blond, yes?” he asks, looking her over.

  “Yup.” Tank flashes him a leer. “Above, and below. And the prettiest little snatch you’ve ever seen. Though I haven’t sampled the goods. She’s a virgin, tight little pussy, all ready for your boss.”

  I hear a tiny, strangled noise escape from Six’s throat. I’m not sure whether she’s acting or not. It sends a knife of regret through my gut. But either way, it fucking works. I watch, adrenaline beginning to flow through my veins, as Edge’s stares at her for a couple of seconds more, then blinks, seemingly satisfied. He reaches into his breast pocket and pulls out a phone. Taking a few steps back, he snaps a quick photo of Six, and presumably sends it to Ellis.

  A moment later, he presses a button and holds the phone to his ear.

  “Yeah. She’s here. It’s legit.”

  He listens for a second, grunts, and ends the call.

  “Edge is coming.”

  He steps back and rejoins the men he came in with, standing at almost military attention. He doesn’t speak anymore, or even bother to look at us.

  The silence in the barn has a weird, echoing character to it. My muscles are taut as the strings on a fucking violin. The adrenaline rushing through my veins feels like a drug, wiring me with tense anticipation.

  Then, with a scrape, the door opens, and Ellis steps inside.

  Fuck me. My former stepfather has come up in the world, that’s for damn sure. As he strides toward us, I notice he’s wearing a suit that’s even more expensive than the one Tank has on. He’s not wearing a tie, but the collar of his shirt looks starched enough to give someone a fuckin’ paper cut. A signet ring adorns his left pinky. Even his haircut looks like it cost a mint. The fuckin’ white trash asshole I knew back in the day is almost unrecognizable.

  Almost. But it’s him. It’s fuckin’ him, for sure.

  And this is how he got his money. Buying and selling not only drugs, but people. My mother was just the first in a long line of people he has sacrificed to get where he is right now.

  But that fucking ends. Right here. Right now.

  If I was worried that Ellis would recognize me, there was no need. He barely looks at any of us except Tank. I realize it was a good call dressing him up the way we did. Ellis lusts after money. He respects people who have it. And now that he’s one of them, Tank is the only person in this room who matters to him.

  Well, Tank, and the girl he thinks he’s about to purchase.

  “I’m Edge,” he says to Tank. The corners of his mouth spread into a humorless grin. His teeth are capped, gleaming white and overly straight in a way that makes him look even more like a predator.

  “Murphy,” Tank lies. He gestures toward Six. “Here she is. Exactly as ordered.”

  “Lovely. Perfect.” When Ellis’s eyes fall on Six, they practically flash dollar signs. He moves closer to her, fingers a stray lock of her hair that frames her pale face. “Where did you find her?”

  “She was a runaway from foster care,” Tank smirks. “Her parents are dead. I picked her up on the streets.” He gives Six a lecherous leer. Tank moves next to the other man, and reaches a hand up to clasp Six’s chin roughly. He angles her face up to his. “She was desperate for someone to protect her from the cold, cruel world. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” he croons.

  Six flinches, and tries to pull her head away. But Tank holds her fast so she can’t do it. Jesus, they’re playing this so perfectly, I’m half convinced myself. The knife in my gut twists harder.

  “She looks terrified, poor thing,” Ellis murmurs, but he’s grinning, lust fairly seeping from his pores.

  “She’s a virgin,” Tank repeats, releasing Six’s face. She sucks in a shuddering breath and looks away. “So innocent, so inexperienced. Well worth the price.”

  Ellis sneers. “I doubt my client will care one way or another.” He moves closer to Six. She takes a tiny step back, but doesn’t dare move any further. His face is inches from hers — so close I imagine she can smell his breath. “I’m afraid your new master isn’t very nice,” he tells her, twisting his mouth into a mocking frown. “His tastes run more toward pain than pleasure. Inflicting it, especially.”

  Six lets out another strangled half-sob. I don’t think she’s faking it this time. This has gone far enough. I turn to look at Tank, trying to signal to him. It’s time to get her out of here.

  But before I can, all hell breaks loose.

  “I’ll enjoy breaking you in myself,” Ellis murmurs with a leer. “In fact, I think I’ll take a little sample right now.” He reaches for her, one arm wrapping around her waist, the other reaching between her legs and up her skirt. He pulls her against him, mouth coming down roughly on hers. Six lets out a muffled scream, then pushes him away, leg coming up instinctively to knee him in the groin. As soon as she connects, Ellis roars in pain and surprise. He half-doubles over, his face a mask of rage. Then, raising his ringed hand, he hauls back and backhands her in the face.

  Almost before my brain registers it, I snap. I close the distance between me and my former stepfather and punch him so hard he flies backward into the bearded guy. It happens so fast, his men are taken totally off-guard. But the Lords have been waiting for Tank’s signal, so they’re ready. Striker’s pistol is out and he punches one of the other men with it, knocking him to the ground. Beside him, Tweak shoots another in the leg. He screams, stumbling, and starts to reach for his own gun, but Tweak puts another bullet in his chest. I dive for Ellis, and out of the corner of my eye I see Six is on the ground. I pray she’s not hurt.

  I send Ellis crashing to the floor. The beast inside me takes control and I grab his head and slam it against the cement floor, hearing a solid crack. Then again. He’s out cold after the third time. I leap to my feet just in time to help Tank, who’s wrestling one of the others for control of a pistol. I punch him hard in the kidney, then haul him upright. He doubles over and starts to retch. The pistol skitters away.

  “Bullet!” Striker yells out. I turn just in time for a fist to connect with my temple. I let out a roar and bend forward, head down, taking the motherfucker in the gut and snowplowing him until we’re both on the ground. One hard punch to the jaw dazes him long enough for me to take out my Glock. Aiming at his chest, I pull the trigger.

  Scrambling to my feet, I swing around, eyes scanning the room to assess the scene. Tweak, Lug Nut, Tank and Striker are all on their feet. Ellis’s men are on the ground, either unconscious or dead. My brothers are staring at a spot behind me. I turn to look.

  There, face bloodied and swollen, Six is holding a gun. Pointed at Ellis.

  Blood is streaming from her nose, her lip split and swelling as I take the pistol from her shaking hands and give it to Tank. Already, a bloom of purple is spreading across her cheekbone.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, my voice hoarse and strange.

  Six nods mutely.

  My hand reaches up, but I stop short of touching her, afraid I’ll hurt her. Instead, I turn to Tweak.

  “Take her back to the limo,” I choke.

  Six looks at me, eyes wide. She doesn’t utter a word, casting one final glance down at Ellis as Tweak leads her away. There’s nothing for her to say. She knows what’s about to happen. The bare bones of it, anyway.

  But I’m hoping she can’t see on my face how much I’m going to enjoy it.

  Once Ellis realizes no one is coming to save his ass, it doesn’t take much to get him to spill everything he knows about the rich client he was trying to buy Six for. I guess he figures it’s his only shot at getting out of this alive. He hasn’t changed at all in that respect: always willing to sell anyone else down the river to save his own skin.

  But when all is said and done, and he realizes it isn’t going to be enough — that the whole thing has been a set-up to smoke him out of his fucking hole— I finally get the first taste of the revenge I’ve been craving for so long.

>   “Go grab the containers from the back of the limo,” I tell Lug Nut.

  The look of terror in Ellis’s eyes as I pull off my beard is a sight I’ll never fucking forget.

  But that’s nothing compared to the look on his face when Lug returns, carrying two large gas cans.

  “You got my mother hooked on meth,” I rasp at him.

  Ellis struggles against his bonds. “She was a fuckin’ drunk when I met her,” he shoots back. “I didn’t make her an addict. I just gave her what she wanted.”

  “She burned to death in that house because of you.” I lean down until my face is less than a foot from his. Close enough that I know he can see the hatred blazing in my eyes. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long fucking time, Ellis.”

  At first, he doesn’t say anything. Then, he starts begging for his life.

  I hardly fucking hear him.

  “Tie him up.” I command.

  “NO!” Ellis screams, his eyes bugging wildly out of his head.

  Lug Nut and Striker bind his hands and feet, Striker punching him in the face when he starts to struggle too much. They line a couple of the sawhorses up side by side so the tops make a sort of stretcher. Then they haul Ellis up so he’s lying on top of them, and secure him there with the last of the rope. Tank stands impassively next to the two gas cans, arms crossed, watching.

  When they’re finished, I step up to the sawhorses, until I’m looking down on my former stepfather, like a surgeon gazing at a patient on an operating table.

  “You never fucking cared about my mom, did you?” I ask, staring him in the eyes. “I bet you thought you’d given me the slip. I’ll admit, it’s taken me a while to find your ass. Hell, you might have thought you were safe by now.” I reach to my waist and unbuckle my belt, slipping it out of the loops of my jeans. Ellis continues to struggle as I wrap it around his left forearm, pulling it tight. “But I would have looked for you until the day I died, if that’s what it took.”

  When the makeshift tourniquet is secure, I reach into my pocket, and pull out a vial and a syringe.

  “Hold him still,” I tell Tank and Striker.

  Then, as Ellis continues to kick and scream, I fill the syringe. The vein in his forearm isn’t hard to find. I shove the needle in, pull back the plunger, and see the telltale red of blood. Loosening the belt, I slowly inject the meth.

  It’s probably not quite enough to kill him, but I can’t be sure. That’s the one flaw in my plan. If he’s lucky, he’ll stroke out and die before I want him to.

  His eyes roll back into his head for a second. Not long after that, he starts trying to scream again, but little by little his breathing becomes labored. He yells for help, yells that he doesn’t want to die, but eventually the words he screams stop making any sense — and pretty soon they’re no longer words at all, just animal cries of terror.

  When the seizures start, I nod at Striker and Tank. They each grab a gas can. The sweet, acrid aroma of gasoline fills the air as they pour it out onto every flammable surface — dousing the walls, the cords of wood, and Ellis himself. Tank uses the last liquid in his can to make a trail from the center of the barn to the door. We walk out, and once we’re outside, I pull out a matchbook, light it, and toss it inside.

  The limo isn’t behind the pole barn anymore. Tweak drove it down to the end of the drive, at my direction. I didn’t want Six to see or hear any of this. Striker, Tank, and Lug Nut walk down to the vehicle, boots crunching in the gravel.

  I stay a while. To listen, until the roar of the flames drowns out Ellis’s screams.

  When it finally does, I put my hands in the pockets of my jacket. Underneath my clothing, I know, is the bullet tattoo Six inked into my skin.

  And next to it, the hellhound. The bearer of death.

  Fire cleanses. I’ve heard that said many times in my life. But now I understand what it means.

  I feel cleaner than I have in a long time. The weight of my anger and hatred — the weight of the past — has been lifted.

  Now it’s time to go back to the woman I love. And put the past to rest.

  I have a lot to say to Six when we get back to Tanner Springs.

  And the first thing is:

  I’m sorry.

  23

  Six

  The six of us spend the trip back to Tanner Springs mostly in silence. I have questions about what happened back at the pole barn after Tweak led me away, but I’m not sure I want to ask any of them.

  “You doin’ okay?” Bullet murmurs a couple of times as he drives, his eyes never leaving the road.

  “I’m fine,” I assure him, gnawing at a hangnail on my thumb as I stare out the window.

  “How’s your face?” Tweak asks from behind me.

  “Feeling kind of puffy,” I admit. “My nose has stopped bleeding, though.”

  “You did good back there, you know that, Stacia?” Tank calls from the back. It’s strange to know them all well enough now that I recognize their voices so easily. “Bullet was right to trust you. If it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t have got Edge today.”

  “I’d do it again,” I say, and I realize it’s true. “It was a little scary, I’ll admit. But I’d do anything for Bullet.”

  The words are out of my mouth before realize what I’ve said. My cheeks flush hot. I hunker down in the passenger seat and look back out the side window so I don’t have to see his reaction.

  When we get to the clubhouse, I’m surprised to see not only a bunch of the Lords of Carnage men, but also a handful of women there, too. Sam is there, as well as Kylie and Jewel, whom I recognize from the Smiling Skull. There’s also a beautiful redhead who looks familiar, and I realize I think she owns the coffee shop downtown.

  Sam rushes over and throws her arms around me, looking relieved. “I knew you’d all be fine, but I wanted to be here when you got back, all the same.” She scrutinizes my face anxiously. “What happened to you?”

  “Nothing too bad,” I assure her. “I just got sort of… punched, I guess.” I start to laugh, realizing how odd that must sound. But it’s all starting to fade away, and seem less than real at this point.

  That said, I’m really looking forward to things in my life calming down a little bit.

  “Come on and meet the rest of the women.” Sam leads me over to the group of them, who are all standing around in a circle. Jewel and Kylie greet me with warm hugs. The redhead introduces herself as Sydney, and points to a man named Brick across the room, saying she’s his wife. Next to her, a blonde and a brunette who must be sisters introduce themselves as Alix and Eden.

  “I’m with Gunner, over there,” says Alix. “And Eden is with Lug Nut, who you already know.”

  “Oh, yes!” I murmur, realizing Eden is the woman who the Lords rescued from a man who got her hooked on heroin. I’m not about to bring that up, of course, but I can’t help but steal a few looks at her as the women chat excitedly around me. She’s gorgeous, her fine features giving her a fragile look. She seems less extraverted than Eden, but her mannerisms echo those of her sister, which is fun to watch. She looks happy, too. I catch her glancing over at Lug Nut a few times, and it doesn’t take a genius to notice the obvious love between them.

  “We’re planning a big barbecue this weekend, here at the clubhouse,” Jewel says, cutting through the chatter. She gives me a warm smile. “I hope you’ll be able to make it.”

  “I mean… I’m not sure,” I falter. “Doesn’t Bullet have to invite me?”

  Jewel snorts and rolls her eyes, but not unkindly. “He will,” she smirks. “And even if he doesn’t, I’m inviting you. As the wife of the MC president, my word is law.” She wiggles her eyebrows as the other women laugh.

  “In that case, I accept your invitation,” I chuckle, knowing I’ll only show up if Bullet wants me to.

  Eventually, I stop being the topic of conversation among the women, and I manage to slip out to the back room where Sam did my photo session that day. I grab the backpack I brought with me and change out of my skirt and platforms, into some jeans and low-heeled boots. I go into the bathroom and take a look at my face, grimacing at my split, puffy lip. There’s some bruising on my cheekbone and around my eye, but it’s not as bad as I thought it would be. I run some cold water, dab the blood off, and splash my face until it feels a little better.