Page 67 of Shame

“What ways?”

He sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking up at the sky.

“In the way that people are going to stare because it’s new. In the way that it’s going to be weird for some because it’s not what they’re used to. In the way that bringing guys around here like they have the clubwhores won’t happen. Even if they accept it, it’s different and not the norm, and I don’t like that shit.”

I nod as he speaks, letting him know I’m listening.

“I understand that, but honestly, I think you may be worrying about it more than anyone else would. Don’t think anyone would care if you brought a guy around, Kolt. They’re drunk half the time anyway, and I’m pretty sure Rhino has fucked a dude or two.”

I get another chuckle from him and consider that a win. I want to ask if he’s already been fucking guys, but we aren’t there yet. Besides, the way he’s talking about it? I think he has.

“Look, I’m not saying you need to rail someone in the ass—” I narrow my eyes at him, looking him over. “Am I wrong to assume you do the fucking?” He scoffs, and I laugh. “Anyway,not that you need to do it in front of anyone, but if you wanted to, don’t think it would be a problem. You know we ain’t like that. But also, if you never wanna tell anyone, that’s cool too. I’m your brother, and you need to trust me a little more.”

He nods. “I know.”

“I—”

Loud pops echo around us, and I immediately know what the fuck that is.

Gunshots.

Kolt and I bolt to the clubhouse, in through the back door, where we grab our pieces that we taped inside the cabinet, then go for the front door. More pops sound, shouting and banging.

I look out the window and see Bullseye on the ground, pressing his hands to his leg that’s pouring blood. There are bikes along the road belonging to those Iron pricks. I yank open the door and start shooting, my brother right behind me.

Right off the bat, he gets two guys in the head. He should’ve been a fucking sniper, his aim is so goddamn good. I get a guy in the stomach, and he falls down, turning his gun on me, so I shoot him again until his arm drops to the ground. Kolt and I run toward the bar, ducking behind the rusted cars that have been sitting here for god knows how long.

“They just showed up,” Grizz says. “And they ain’t leaving without bleeding.”

“Goddamn right,” I say.

“How many?” Kolt asks.

“Saw ten, shot two,” Grizz answers.

“Killed two,” Kolt adds.

“Shot one.”

“So we got a few left to go.” Grizz grins, moving around the car and walking out with both hands raised, a pistol in each. He fires them off like some badass in a western movie and I move right after him, shooting every Iron prick I see that’s still moving.

I feel more guys coming behind us, hear their guns and heavy boots in the dirt. We walk out like we’re fucking invincible. Bullseye is being dragged into the house by Tank, Ghost covering them with an automatic weapon I didn’t know we had. We don’t keep that shit here, but he must’ve had it hidden well. Wouldn’t be surprised if the fucker walked around with it, strapped under his shirt or something. Guy may be crazier than my brother.

I’m feeling good about this. Confident. These pricks are dropping one by one, and the more we kill, the less we have to worry about. Their club ain’t much bigger than ours, but I’ll tell you, they fucked with the wrong ones. They thought they were going to come in here and take over our territory to get to the border, and they thought wrong.

The shooting slows, the firing coming to a stop as dust settles. All I see standing are our guys. This is going to be one hell of a mess to clean up, but this will be a job for a clean-up crew that Coyote will call in. A guy or two we can handle, but this many? Best it’s left to the professionals.

I lower my gun, which is a fucking mistake. The second my hand is at my side, a searing pain burns through shoulder, and I’m jolted back. I fall to my ass, the burning getting worse. So fucking bad I can’t see. I can hardly hear anything. Faintly there are more pops, people shouting my name, but fuck if I know who it is.

“Shark! Hold on, bro,” I hear someone say. “Someone help me!”

I’m dragged across the parking lot, dirt and rocks scraping against my back and ass until I’m inside and on something soft. Only guy bigger than me is Grizz, so I know it wasn’t easy to drag my ass inside.

Another searing pain shoots right through me when pressure is applied to my shoulder, right where it hurt before. Pretty sure I was shot, now that I think about it. Maybe I’m dying. Probably not, if it’s just my shoulder, but fuck, what did they shoot me with? A fucking fire ball? Goddamn poison bullets?

“Someone pull the truck around!”

“Yeah, I got it.”

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