Page 65 of Tav

Blanche

I have one councilman left sniveling in front of me. There’s been no rhyme or reason to the order in which I’ve sent them to their maker, but I have to admit, leaving this one for last gives me a little thrill. Steadfast Cormier was the most vicious of all the menin Eden’s Keep. His wives were always sporting bruises thanks to his “correction.”

“Any last sins to repent, Steadfast?”

He turns to look me in the eye, then spits at me, hitting me in the cheek.

“You’re a fucking slut, Patience, and you’ll be treated like one when the Keep men come for you,” he sneers at me, eyes burning brightly. I see the exact moment he realizes his words don’t hit their target.

“May the Lord have mercy on your soul,” I whisper in his gross, hairy ear, his head snapping back when my bullet hits it.

“Well, girl, you’ve got your eight men,” Marx says, his hand gripping Royal’s shoulder, keeping him in his seat.

He still has a cocky smile on his face, and I cannot wait to see that disappear. A bang sounds out in the hall, on the other side of the door. We wait for a beat and then gunfire surrounds us.

“Blanche,” Marx barks, “Stand down. It’ll be over soon,”

I stand stock still in the middle of the room. Marx yanks Royal up by the collar, bodily moving him and then shoving him into another chair, this one with a good view of the connecting door to the hall. He raises his gun and holds it steady. I move to the right side of him, aiming mine as well. If anyone decides to escape out the back, we’ll pick them off as soon as look at them.

Holding strong the sound of gunfire lessens until it comes to a stop. My heart thuds in my chest, hands sweaty. What if we didn’t win? What if something happened to Tav? To the rest of them? Shit, I feel dizzy. Fuck, get it together, Blanche! My mind screams at me to find three things that are blue in the room. I look around wildly, but all I can see is red. The red of blood, on the floors, on the wall. On my hands.

My body jolts like it’s touched a live wire when someone thumps twice on the connecting door, “All clear, Pres!” a gruff voice calls out. I think it’s Tank.

All the tension leaves my body at once and I try to lock my knees, to stop myself from falling to the ground in relief. Strong hands wrap around my biceps, Tav’s smell invading my senses, calming me even before his voice reaches my ears.

“I’m here, Pixie, I’m here.” Turning to look at my love, my eyes dart over him, wanting to check for injuries. When I see that he’s unharmed I lean my forehead against his hard chest.

“I hope you have a backup backup plan,” Rider sasses Royal, walking in with a cocky grin on his face. My brothers and the MC brothers all cram into the meeting room, all except Savage and Dex.

“Where are the other two?”

“Here Pres,” Dex says, followed by Savage, silly grins on their faces.

“Where the hell were you when we were facing off against those brainwashed hillbillies?” Tank asks, flipping Royal the bird when he turns to glare at Tank.

“I had a feeling that he had something else up his sleeve,” Savage answers, tipping his head toward my uncle dearest.

“And?” Marx growls,

“Threat neutralized. These fuckers had this place wired to blow fucking sky high,” Dex throws a pile of wires and metal parts on the floor, and for the first time Royal is looking nervous.

“Are you ready for your turn, husband dearest?” I taunt, ignoring Tav’s growl behind me. “I have something extra special planned for you.”

Vic and Dom grab an arm each and yank Royal to standing. “Come on old man, let’s go visit the Prophet, huh?”

They frogmarch him out the door, his feet cooperating before he decides to be a pain in the ass. He kicks and goes limp, my brothers almost dropping him.

“Fuck it,” Dom growls and using their brotherly telepathy Vic takes hold of Royal’s legs, Dom the top half.

They carry him through the compound to the Prophet’s house, leading the way for the rest of us. There are women standing around, obviously having come out of hiding. They’re looking bewildered, children cuddled into their bosom. They stare at us as we walk through, none of them asking who we are or what we’re doing.

“This place gives me the creeps,” Fox mumbles to Nitro, Nitro nodding his head in agreement.

“Not a tear has been shed for these men, either.”

“Why would they? The bulk of their husbands were bullies and rapists,” I say, catching the eye of one woman in the crowd. She gives me a smile and mouths, “Thank you.” I give her a nod in return. I’m not sure what will happen to them without the menfolk, but that’s a problem for a later date.

We round the last bend, following the path that my mother laid herself, the one that leads right up to the Prophet’s front door. My brothers wrestle with Royal who hasn’t stopped wriggling and sneering. I mean, I don’t blame him. We’ve killed his men, his followers. His bombs have been found and Hammer is tucked up safely in the SUV. Unless he has the Cordoza Cartel hiding up his ass, there’s no one to save him.

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