An explosion rocked the front door, the force knocking the wind out of me and my brother as we were shoved against the bar. Men filed in, shots ringing out in every direction as the Death Dogs and Satan’s Angels poured into the clubhouse looking to take out everyone in their path.
Reaper was the first man out of church. Then Montana. I made my way around the room, shooting as I went. I knew Justin could take care of himself; I was on a mission.
I might not trust the son of a bitch, but I had been tasked to protect him. I would give my life for the bastard. I just hoped he was worth it.
I made it to the church doors as he stepped out, gun raised, taking out a man who had snuck up on Justin. Neither paused. Justin kept going, and King aimed again.
When his gun was empty, he paused to remove the clip and add another, and that was when the asshole with the Death Dogs’ cut decided to take his shot.
They were supposed to be gone. Their clubhouse blown up; the remaining members with it. Only, someone tipped them off. Someone in this clubhouse was working for the other side.
I snuck up behind King, my gun pointed at his head. “DOWN!” I yelled, and my best friend dropped to the ground as the asshole in front of him pulled the trigger. I may have been a hair faster, but his bullet still hit its mark.
King spun around as I fell to the floor.
“CHASM!”
Montana
Total fucking pandemonium.
Stepping out of church, I watched as Reaper rushed into the melee, roaring and oblivious to the danger, his blades in his hands, cutting through the horde as if it were child’s play. Even I knew better than to get in his fucking way. I might be a tad crazy, but I wasn’t fucking certifiable like him!
Still... I couldn’t let him outdo me either.
He would never let me hear the end of it.
Firing at will, I followed him into hell, quickly shooting a Death Dog.
“Aim for the fucking head, fucknuts!” the asshole roared as he sliced the head off a Satan’s Angel.
“Fuck you!” I shouted back, shooting another. “I know how to fucking kill a dead man walking!”
“Oh, really?” Reaper shouted back, his blade slicing into a Death Dog. “If you’d killed these fuckers when you had the chance, then we wouldn’t be in this fucking mess!”
Stopping in the middle of this chaos, I looked at my so-called best friend and pointed at the man at his feet. “He doesn’t count! He’s a Death Dog!”
“They are working together,” he snarled. “HE COUNTS!”
Grumbling, I aimed and shot another between the eyes. “BETTER?”
“YES!” Reaper shouted, jabbing his blade into the gut of a Satan’s Angel before yanking it up, gutting him from stomach to rib cage. It was gruesome, and if I were honest, I actually wanted to vomit. Turning away from the maniac, I spotted a Death Dogadvancing on my brother Torment and didn’t think before I shot the fucker in the back of his head. Torment looked at me in surprise before nodding, then running off, firing at another intruder.
Fuck, this shit was a total mess.
I was getting too fucking old for this shit.
Maybe I should just let Reaper take over everything. I had a wife and kids to think about, but seeing my brothers fighting alongside the Golden Skulls and the Silver Shadows, I knew Reaper and King would need my help. With what, I didn’t know, but I knew I couldn’t walk away leaving them holding the proverbial shit bag.
“MONTANA!”
Spinning around, I froze as I stared into familiar eyes. Eyes that mirrored my own. Then I felt the burn of two bullets enter my stomach. Standing there, unable to move, I couldn’t look away as he leaned close and whispered, “Tell Dad I said hi, brother.”
Falling to my knees, I couldn’t stop looking at him as he faded into the background, and I fell to the floor and closed my eyes. All I could think about was my Tessa, and I prayed she forgave me.
Indie
This was the shit I was trained for. I watched, and I waited, knowing the precise moment when to strike. I’d been watching him since the moment he set foot inside the clubhouse.
