Page 2 of Devil's Queen

“You’re absolutely right,” I answer, pulling out my Smith & Wesson Shield 9mm and taking aim. His eyes go wide, knowing what’s coming. The inevitability of it was so ironic in his last moments because his fate was sealed the second we arrived on his doorstep. “Drag him over to the swamp. I’ve got an idea.”

Cheyenne rises and grabs him by the shoulders, forcing him up. She drags him through the reeds near his home and down to the water’s edge. She shoves him hard out to the water until he’s almost knee-deep in the murky, cold water. He looks around, trying to formulate a plan to escape, but he’s trapped.

“Please, no,” he begs. “I beg you.”

I stalk toward him, the muddy swamp water soaking my jeans with every step. His body shivers the closer I get. “Men like you get no mercy from me. The second you took those two innocent girls, you sealed your fate.” My voice is emotionless.This isn’t the first time I have had to put a rabid predator down, and with the state of the world, it likely won’t be my last. Someone has to balance the power, and I have the strength to do it.

He attempts to beg for his life again, but it’s a fruitless final attempt as I fire a bullet between his eyes. His body goes limp,falling backward into the water.The swamp will balance justice’s scales tonight. We leave him there and watch from the banks as his body bobs before something drags him under, serving the final piece of justice as he disappears. The moonlight gleams off the water and reflects into the spent casing from my shot. I reach down and pocket it, taking the last trace of our involvement with us.

A moment of silence lingers between us before Cheyenne speaks up.

“Doesn’t get any easier, does it? Seems like this shit keeps getting worse.”

This isn’t what I had envisioned doing when we started the Voodoo City Queens, but as the world changed, we had to adapt.

In the early years of our club, we helped women get out of abusive situations and set up in one of our safe houses until we could get them out of the city. We were nonviolent until we couldn’t stay that way anymore. Not all the victims made it home safely to their loved ones, but if we could help, we did. Not all rescue attempts came with a happy ending. Tonight, at least, we beat the odds.

“What about the house?”

“Those girls don’t need a reminder of what happened there. Torch it.” I shrug. “It’s remote and close enough to the water that it won’t do any residual damage.”

“The smoke will draw attention, Remy,” Cheyenne balks.

“That’s the point. It’ll distract the Parish sheriff enough for us to get some miles behind us. We just need to pull out those reeds where you dragged fuck nut and use those for kindling. Fuel and destroying the evidence. Two birds. One stone.”

I pull my pocketknife out of my leathers and begin to cut.

“Lord have mercy. You’ve been talking to that guy in your stepbrother’s club again, haven’t you?”

I stop while cutting the bloody reeds with my pocketknife and look over at her.

“Ratchet does good work. He’s very informative. You could learn something from him if you’d give him a chance.”

Cheyenne rolls her eyes at me.”If I can get past those fuck-off stares and single-word answers, you mean,” she answers back as she stalks toward her bike and reaches into the saddlebags to retrieve a lighter. She tosses it to me. “I’ll get right on befriending the psycho.”

“That’s your problem right there. He’s not that bad once you get to know him.”

“Neither is a one-night stand until you wake up the next morning and they’re making you breakfast. The guy is off his rocker, and that’s saying something coming from me.”

“He’s misunderstood. If you knew the kind of life he’s lived, you’d be more open to his help.”

“Doubt it. I can take care of myself and our club.”

“I know you can, but we needed their help.”

She knows I’m not wrong. The Heaven’s Rejects MC is expansive compared to our lone chapter. They have resources and contacts we were only beginning to recruit into our ranks. The fact that Raze had even offered Beau to me as support is a show of good faith after he and I had talked over the phone about another case that had come our way earlier in the year. They were good men who wanted to help despite only Beau having a familial connection to me. If I needed to use them, I would. End of story.

“I just don’t like involving another club. It makes things more complicated.”

“One day, we won’t need to do that, but with Beau’s help, we saved two lives tonight. That’s what you need to focus on, Cheyenne.”

“I know,” she reluctantly agreed. “I just don’t have to like it.”

We finish gathering the reeds and pile them onto the spring-bare couch in Gacy’s living room. Between the cheap fabric, the reeds, and the bottle of booze I spied on the way in, this place would be a raging inferno in no time. Cheyenne comes from the back of the house and nods.

“Didn’t see anything that would link the girls to this place back there. Think we’re good to go. I run my finger over the flint wheel of the lighter, igniting it. With a few short passes, the couch begins to burn. We both make a quick exit and mount our bikes with the orange and red hues of the fire flowing behind us. We watch a few minutes longer until the faint sirens of the Parish sheriff begin to call out to our south.

“Time to go,” I relay to her. The engines of both bikes roar to life. I take one last look over my shoulder at the house before I take off, and Cheyenne follows me.

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