Page 6 of Revenant's Fire

Motorcycles and a truck skidding to a stop ruin the nice planning session I was having. At first I was excited at the sound of the motorcycle pipes. The rumble always gives me a thrill, especially the low, bassy tone of Revenant’s bike. I’ve heard it enough to pick his out. I’m about to jump up and wave when a rough voice starts shouting to put hands up and some other very dangerous, manly things.

I squat down low, thankful that today I decided to wear jeans and a t-shirt. I mean, it’s my usual uniform, I only really wear my titty sundresses when I know I’ll see Revenant. Yes, I am that scheme-y.

Revenant being shoved enters my line of vision and I shrink back. I know he’s spotted my baby blue moped. That would be the only reason his narrowed gaze is scanning the area, trying to find me. Most likely to growl at me to stay down or get home or that he’s a bad man, blah blah blah. Not today Rev. I get low, eyes on the action. Coyote, Cedar, Jubilee, Brake and now Revenant are all on their knees, hands behind their heads. They’ve been disarmed. There are five, no six men, wearing leather jackets I’ve not seen in town before. They have a patch with a huge skull on their backs, guns in their hands and are scrawny enough that I bet Revenant could snap them in half with his bare hands. Where the Saint’s Outlaws are all over six feet tall and probably weigh at least 200 pounds a piece, these guys are greasy, frail and look like meth heads.

“We’re taking over Winlaw and your runs, so we’ll need you to get gone,” the main guy sneers.

It takes everything in me not to laugh out loud. OK buddy, the Saint’s Outlaws will totally clear outta town for you bunch of rejects.

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s going to work for us,” Revenant says drily. “How about you take this as a warning. Get the fuck outta town before we send you and your little buddies straight to hell.” He growls low and dangerously. Dangerous for these guys, and my panties.

Meth head number 1 starts cackling like it’s the funniest joke he’s ever heard before cutting off abruptly and pressing the muzzle of his gun into Revenant’s forehead. He’s pressing so hard Revenant is having to lean back a little. I marvel at the core and hamstring strength my man is exhibiting for a moment before digging my favorite cowboy boots into the ground and getting ready to make my move. Tweakers can't be trusted so I need to be on my game. My daddy taught me to shoot and I know from this distance I can realistically take two, maybe three cleanly.

Flicking the safety off my gun, I wait. Slowing my breathing, not taking my eyes off the men in my sight. Tweaker shouts in Revenant's face, spittle flying everywhere as he leans further into Revenant’s space. Darting my gaze to the others, they all kneel, coiled and ready to attack but much like Revenant, they’re biding their time. Probably waiting for the rest of the SOMC to arrive.

“Fuck it, Carmichael, just shoot him already. That’ll send the Saint’s a message,” one of the other losers sneers.

Carmichael? What sort of name is that?

“Yeah, do it! Who gives a shit if one of these fuckers die?” Another grins.

I do. I give a shit you little tweaker dweeb. Squatting low I shuffle slightly closer, gun in hand, already raised to hit my target. No one touches my man. No one.

Chapter Five

Revenant

This dickhead’s gun continues to press into my head and it’s taking all my restraint not to punch him in the balls and start an all out brawl. My brothers and I may all be unarmed currently, but we are definitely not outnumbered. All we have to do is stay calm for another five minutes or so and our brothers will be here. We’ll probably play with a couple of these guys before sending them back to their Prez with a message. These fuckers need to know that this is Saint’s Outlaws territory and we ain’t stepping aside for no two-bit meth head MC.

He presses his gun harder into my forehead and I have to brace myself so I don’t topple onto my back. He and a couple of the losers he’s with talk shit about getting rid of me, and if I had anything to lose I’d be shitting my pants right about now. Besides my brothers I have nothing. Nothing to lose. Not even anything to pray to God for. So I don’t. I stay silent. Composed even though I know somewhere around here is Sunny. Hopefully she’s on the trail to the waterfall or something and none the wiser. My only real regret if I died today would be that Sunny would probably stumble across the scene and it’ll ruin her forever. The guy she gave cupcakes to, on the ground with a gaping hole in his head.

“Just get rid of him. He’s fucking pointless,” one of the Sinister Wolves says. He’s not wrong. I am pointless.

My gaze catches that of the guy with the gun at my head, Carmichael or some shit. His pupils are blown, eyes wild and I don’t miss when his finger flicks the safety off. One gentle squeeze and I’ll be standing in front of my judgement. I know what I’ve done in my life and I don’t deserve a seat in the good place, but I’d still like to see all my failures and ask forgiveness for them.

His trigger finger twitches, and even though I know it’s coming, I close my eyes. Everything feels heavy and light at the same time. My breathing slows, my arms limp at my sides. Any fight I had has left me. Anything I do in this moment could hurt my brothers rather than save myself. Shit, that’s even if I’m fast enough to get a swing in. Instead, I accept my fate. I lean back even more, the sun on my face, soaking up the warmth as a gunshot sounds out.

Revenant

I flinch when a body hits the ground, my eyes springing open, catching Carmichael’s blank gaze on mine before he slumps sideways. Two more shots ring out before I can get my big ass up off the dusty ground and make those gunshots count. I launch at the man closest to me, the man that had his gun pointed at Brake. Taking him to the ground I swing wildly, my fists crashing into his face as Brake kicks the shit outta him. My brother may be missing the bottom part of his arm, but the fucker loves a brawl.

By the time the man beneath me goes still all the noise of my brothers beating the shit out of the rest of the Sinister Wolves has ceased.

“What the fuck was that?” Coyote asks, the big man swinging his head from left to right, looking for who knows what.

The roar of motorcycles grows louder, and my body relaxes. I know the sound of my brothers’ bikes, and these pipes belong to Gallows, Mercy, Grail, Cobb and Split. They pull in and start shutting off their engines one by one.

“What in the fuck happened here?” Gallows asks, hands on hips as he kicks the leg of the guy Brake and I put down.

“Don’t ask, Rev. He pretty much accepted he was on his way to meet his maker.” Cedar’s smirk turns into a grin when I hold up my middle finger.

“Wait, if you just rolled in now, who the fuck killed those three?” Jubilee waves a dark hand at the bodies on the ground.

“Ah, that would be me,” a sweet voice calls on the wind.

I spin on my heel, all the blood in my body going cold when I lay eyes on Sunny, Smith and Wesson Shield on her hip like it’s always been there. My blood pressure rises and I can’t help the growl that rips through me.

“What the fuck, Sunny? You could have been fucking killed, you pain in my ass, stubborn, hard-headed, fucking woman!”