Jasper speaks up. “That’s not how it works, Spark. You don’t get to start a war with our club and decide once we beat your ass and take down your club president that you want peace between our clubs.”
“You’re not stupid. You know that your club needs to officially surrender,” I tell him. “We’ll talk tomorrow when we’ve buried our dead and seen to our wounded.”
Onyx adds, “Your medic sees to your wounded, ours sees to ours, and no one else has to die. That’s the only deal on the table tonight.”
“I’ll take that fuckin’ deal, Rager,” he responds tightly.
Scar speaks from the doorway, “The Hyenas’ medic examined Stripe. As well as a busted leg and ribs, he’s got internal bleedin’. He needs a fuckin’ hospital and quick if he’s gonna have a chance of survivin’ this night.”
“Let his people take him,” I say. “They can take him to St. Mary’s. Tell them to go the back way and leave their cuts behind. They are more likely to buy a story about him falling if they don’t know he’s a biker.”
Spark nods once. “Yeah, that’s the best plan.”
I walk downstairs and outside, with Nora still tucked under my arm. They carry Stripe’s broken body out to one of their vans on a piece of plywood. It’s no hardship for me to see the man who thought he owned my old lady because money changed hands lying on his back, staring up at the starlit sky, his face contorted in pain. I guess that I’m a bit of a bastard that way.
The Hyenas move around us, dragging their wounded brothers over to be seen by their medic. Coal ended up being left where he fell for now. One of the Hyenas went up to lay a jacket over his face. I know because they asked Spark if it was okay in front of us and it set off another round of crying by Nora.
I hear her whisper, “Will this horrible night never end?”
That’s my cue to get her the fuck out of this nightmare. I scoop her up in my arms and carry her to my bike. She turns her face against my neck and shakes in my arms, still tearful and grieving. I feel her fingers tracing around my officer’s patch. That gets to me, but I don’t put her down until we’re right besidemy bike. I help her onto the back and strap the spare helmet I carry in my back storage compartment onto her head.
By every measure that matters to a sergeant-at-arms, we won this war, fair and square. I should be satisfied. If only my old lady hadn’t had to watch me gun down her old man, it would have been a perfect win. I’m not stupid. I know this is going to change the way she sees me. The hard part is tomorrow. Once the shock wears off, will she want to wake up next to the man who did it?
I throw my leg over my bike and settle into place. Her arms go around my waist before I finish putting my helmet on. I start my engine and slowly pull out onto the road. I worry about what comes next all the way home. No matter what, I’m going to make sure Nora gets through this, even if I have to put her into therapy. Whatever it takes, I’m there for it.
Chapter 18
Nora
Iwake up in Jinx’s bed at the clubhouse. He has one arm draped over my hip and my back is pressed against his front. I feel warm, protected and cherished. The clock on the bedside table says it’s seven AM. And for a second, my sleep-addled brain doesn’t remember what happened last night. Then as the fog lifts, it all comes crashing back through my brain.
My father tried to shoot Jinx, but Jinx was faster with a gun. My father died, Brave lost his mind and Spark surrendered to the Sons. As surreal as all that sounds it all happened. I know because I was there. I saw it all with my own eyes.
I’ve wished for twenty-two years that he would stop treating me like shit and daydreamed about being free of his control, but I never once wished him dead. Watching the blood spread out beneath him while Spark pressed both hands to a bullet wound that wouldn’t stop bleeding was a horrific sight that I never imagined I would see.
Jinx wakes beside me. I can tell because his hand flexes on my stomach and his breathing changes. He’s lying very still, clearly waiting for me to wake up or to talk first. The same hand resting against my belly held the gun that killed my father last night. That thought swarms around my head for a few seconds.
“I wish my father hadn’t reached for his gun, Jinx.”
“Me too, sweetness,” he says quietly. “I know that was hard for you to see. He didn’t leave me a choice. If I’d been a second slower, our baby would be growin’ up without a father.”
“I know.” That’s the terrible part. “It was self-defense. There were witnesses and I was one of them. I’m not angry at you, Jinx. I’m angry at him. My father was a monster, and he shouldn’t have put you in that position.”
“It’s okay to grieve for him. He was your father after all,” Jinx says patiently.
I prop myself up on one arm and glance over my shoulder at him. “I didn’t know a person could grieve something they hated so much.”
He wraps his arms around me as I roll over to face him, pulling me close to his chest. “Emotions are complicated, darlin’. They’re never right or wrong, they just are what they are.”
I lie there in the morning sunlight, with my cheek against his chest. “Do you think they gave him a proper burial?” I ask.
Jinx glances down, clearly surprised by my question. “Probably, at least according to what they see as proper. Are you lookin’ for a gravesite to visit?”
I freeze for a second before answering. “No. It’s not that. I just wonder where he is and what they did with him. Is that morbid?”
“No, of course not. It’s a logical question. I think that wherever they buried him, Spark knows where it is. He probably marked it temporarily. When things cool down, I’ll ask him about it for you.”
“I think I just need to feel some closure,” I stammer, unsure what I’m really thinking.
