Page 49 of Raiden

“Goodness. I don’t need babysitting. I’m fine. I’ll go make a cup of coffee and I’ll be back here chilling with one of your finance books, waiting for you when you’re done.”

He doesn’t have time to argue. He can assess my mental and physical state when he’s finished hashing out how to save his club. That includes women and children, and even though I don’t think of myself as in need of saving, rage still bubbles up so strong that I see black dots as it constricts my lungs.

“I hope you get it figured out. Hart seems nice enough. Maybe your Sunday biker batch of besties isn’t so bad.”

He shoots mea look,then pulls a book off the bookcase and tosses it onto the bed. “Start with that one. It’s great for beginners. Also? The code for the door is nine, nine, eight, two, seven, four. Don’t lock yourself out. I’d like it if you were here, safe, reading and sipping that coffee when I get back.”

Chapter 16

Raiden

Bursts of gunfire light up the dingy warehouse.

Bullets glance off crates, bury themselves in the walls, and hit with sharp metallic clunks into vehicles.

We voted on this in church a few hours ago. Total and utter carnage, no holds barred.

We knew who our enemy was, and we knew where they were. Gray pressed hard on the men he’d hired. They were already close, but finally one of them had intel for us.

My club brothers voted for action. Gray led them. It wasn’t a surprise. He’d try for peace any other time, but these small-time dealers and thugs trying to make a move on our territory hunted down Gray’s woman, our MC queen. They’d shot at my woman too. If she wasn’t highly trained and skilled, she might not be alive now. Her quick reflexes and her impeccable aim stood between her and death.

These bastards scared every other old lady who came back here. Our kids too.

They burned our warehouses and our club downtown.

We all want vengeance, and we want it in a big way.

People think bikers are stupid, but we weren’t dumb enough to come here with our engines roaring, the wind in our hair, the lull of freedom’s road song in our ears. We waited untilthe full cover of dark and came in two cages, ditching them a mile or so from the building.

We needed a good shot, so we brought Bullet. His experience in special ops before he joined the club made him invaluable in planning how to hit their warehouse.

It’s a small place, located not far from one of our burned-out shells.

These fuckers have been hiding out in plain sight all along.

Crow, as club enforcer, wouldn’t let us leave him behind. Reckless and Gunner, who have both acted as VP in the past, also insisted that they be included. Odin threatened to follow us if we made him stay at the club. Despite his one eye, he’s a good shot and deadly with a blade.

We needed to ensure that no matter what happened, our women and children and our base was protected, so we left Scythe heading up the rest of the men and our prospects. Reaper, who shares the enforcer position with Crow, also is back at the clubhouse, helping Wizard monitor security.

Gray led us in through the warehouse’s side door. Nothing was unlocked, but we shot and kicked down the door and spilled inside.

We’ve put a lot of faith in the information Gray’s man gave us. He said there would be roughly twenty-five men here. That means we’re outnumbered, but as we charge into the main part of the warehouse, covering Gray as he pours bullets from a semi-automatic rifle, there aren’t many scurrying shapes.

The shouts of the dead, the panicked, and dying reach us quickly, as soon as we opened fire.

I duck behind a stack of boxes while Crow and Gunner cover the doors, cutting off any potential escape.

I catch a blur of motion and whip out from behind my cover, shooting as it tracks past me.

Other shots ring out, bursts and singles. Something goes whizzing past my head. Not a bullet, but shrapnel shot off the side of a wooden crate.

Crow and Gunner do an excellent job of covering Gray. We took the main part while Odin branched off before we got to the main section of the warehouse, hunting any rooms that might have men in them. We moved quickly and thoroughly, watching our backs as we crept from the side door we busted into. In the flurry of gunshots and shadows, I catch sight of the big, one-eyed man pouring into the action.

It happens so fast, flashes of fire, the glint of a knife, shouts and cries, metal, smoke, and gunpowder, and then it’s over. I’ve never heard a silence so deafening.

The adrenaline is pumping through all of us and won’t fade out for hours yet, but as I step out fully into the open and sweep my eyes over the carnage and havoc we just wrought, the bloody justice we rained down, it hits me what we’ve done.

In a way, it’s self-defense. Us or them, just like I told Widow.

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