Page 113 of Where We Promise

JAMESON

Wes and Killian cautiously slid out of the cellar after me and re-emerged into the kitchen.

Killian had his gun drawn and was quietly leading us around into a hallway where a few more Stone Riders were held up, watching and waiting for their president.

“Giles?” Killian whispered to one of the men, but the rider shook his head. Either to say he didn’t know where the vice president was, or that he hadn’t made it. I sent a silent prayer up that my cousin was somewhere safe.

Before I made it up to the Stone Riders clubhouse, I had caught sight of a few bloodied bodies that hadn’t made it from the explosions. Several of which had belonged to my club. The house that held them all had been emptied, save for a few men. Brick and a few others had made it out, but that was it. They’d all died and if I hadn’t left when I did, I’d be dead too. The house was targeted but evacuated prior to the explosion, which meant more than half my crew that I had assumed was loyal, wasn’t.

“Anyone know who the fuck is hitting us yet?”

Just then, we peeked through one of the windows and saw several bikes making their way toward the front of the house.

“Think we’re about to find out.”

Brick and a few of my men appeared behind us, guns drawn. All together there were roughly fifteen of us ready to face off with whoever had attacked us. Guilt tugged hard at my chest as I caught Killian’s eye and he pointed at my patch with his brow raised. He was asking about my men. The men he wanted an alliance with, the ones I promised if he’d give safe passage to Penelope to live here.

Lowering my face to avoid the embarrassment of letting them all down, I shook my head.

Wes cursed, but Killian only nodded as we continued to move out.

The hazy air from all the dust created a nightmare for visibility, so we all crouched below a window and waited until the bike engines cut off.

I lifted on my knee, and with just enough clarity of the window, I was able to make out Jefferson Quinn, more than half my crew…and Tuck Holloway, Luke’s dad.

“The fuck is Holloway doing here? I thought he was in prison,” Killian whispered from his spot by the window.

“He was…must have gotten a get out of jail free card like your pops did.”

“The fuck is with these old timers?”

Wes shook his head and cocked his gun. “I don’t know but the second Tuck Holloway discovers what we did to his son, he’s going to demand blood.”

He likely already knew, which was why he’d attacked.

“Jefferson wants to claim the Stone Riders, and Tuck wants the Chaos Kings…looks like they might have an old affiliate for Sons of Speed with them too.”

“Killian Quinn, Wesley Ryan, and Jameson King. You are hereby stripped of your colors associated to the clubs, Chaos Kings and the Stone Riders. You will toss your cuts out those windows you’re cowering behind in the next five seconds, or we’re coming in there and taking them from you!” Tuck Holloway bellowed from the spot next to his bike.

The old man still had a bit of a beer gut, even from being in prison it seemed. His graying hair was mostly bald now, but his face had the same ruthless, dead expression he always did.

“You don’t have the authority to demand that,” Wes yelled through the window while Killian made eye contact with something outside. It looked like he was watching the roofline of the attached garage bay from across the front yard.

Tuck laughed, swinging his gaze to the members behind him. There were at least thirty members from Chaos Kings and at least twenty from Sons of Speed. We were vastly outnumbered.

“We’re your predecessors. The men who laid the groundwork for these clubs. You three pussies took great clubs and ran them into the ground. There’s also the little issue I have with you murdering my son.” Tuck’s voice went from false jovial to deadly serious. “To correct this grievance, I’m asking for blood. I want the head of Jameson King, and the life of my new grandson. He and his mother will come back to Richland with us. Luke’s legacy will live on.”

Fire burned in my stomach as Tuck’s voice echoed. I knew he wanted me dead, but I never assumed he’d want Penelope or Connor.

Wes continued to yell through the window while Killian gave a slight near imperceptible nod to someone. “We didn’t ask for war, you all were welcome to join the clubs going the direct route, or you’re welcome to start your own, but you aren’t welcome here.”

Jefferson stepped forward, slowly dragging his leather gloves off. Right as he opened his mouth to speak, a bullet hit the back of his head. Killian jumped up and used his shotgun to fire off five shots, shattering the windows and forcing Tuck Holloway to duck for cover.

I moved in time to see Giles, lying flat in a sniper position on top of the garage. He’d hit Jefferson and was now picking off members one by one. My gut sank as more riders began filtering in through the blown gate at the front. I knew this was going to end with a hole in my head. There were too many of them, too few of us.

I wanted to crawl back to the cellar, see Pen one last time. Give her a kiss and tell her that I had planned a whole life for them. For Connor. I imagined him taking those first steps, saying those first words. Hearing the word Daddy fall from his lips, knowing I was the only father he’d ever know. My heart felt like a thread of pure gold had begun weaving in and out of my bones, fortifying it with determination. I would go down fighting to protect them.

There was more glass that shattered as men wearing patches and colors kicked in the door and swarmed the main room. I shot four of them, and then took a shot to my leg, going down hard.

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