Page 4 of Hellfire's Mercy

Something flashes across her face – confusion, maybe attraction – and for a split second, I'm tempted to... but the sound of motorcycles gets louder.

"Go!" I push them toward the tunnel entrance.

Angel knows the drill. She pulls Chloe into the narrow passage, and I hear their footsteps fade as I draw my gun. The hidden door closes just as I step back into the bar area.

Two Outlaws burst through the front door, guns raised. Amateurs. I don't hesitate, putting a bullet in each one's shoulder before they can even aim properly. They drop to the ground, howling in pain.

"Prospects!" I bark at the two kids ducking behind the bar counter. "Secure these idiots!"

"Four more outside, Boss!" Crow shouts from his position by the window.

Next to him, Wrath and Ruthless are already in position, guns trained on the entrance.

Butcher appears at my side as Maverick covers the back door.

"Want us to take them alive?"

"Yeah," I say, watching our prospects zip-tie the wounded Outlaws. "Time to send their president a message."

The firefight is quick and brutal. My men know what they're doing – we've been at this game longer than these Outlaw punks. Crow and Ruthless take down two more while Maverick and Butcher flank the last pair trying to sneak around back.

Within minutes, we have all six Outlaws subdued. None are dead, but they won't be riding those bikes home tonight.

As I watch my brothers secure our unwanted guests, my phone vibrates. A text from Angel: "Package delivered safely. No tails."

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. Chloe's safe. The thought brings more relief than it should, considering I've known her for less than an hour.

"Want me to call a cleanup crew?" Butcher asks, gesturing to the mess of broken glass and bullet holes.

I nod, already pulling up a new message on my phone. Time to make sure our new asset understands exactly what she's gotten herself into.

"First day on the job, sweetheart," I type. "Don't make me regret letting you live."

I hit send, imagining her reaction when she reads it. This is a bad idea. She's a liability, a complication I don't need. But as I pocket my phone and turn to deal with our prisoners, I can't shake the feeling that Chloe Matthews is going to be more than just a useful source of information.

She's going to be trouble. My kind of trouble.

"Crow, Wrath," I call out. "Get these pieces of shit ready for transport. Time to remind the Outlaws why they shouldn't fuck with Iron & Blood."

"What about the girl, Boss?" Ruthless asks, dragging one of the wounded Outlaws toward the basement door. "Can we trust her?"

It's a valid question. Trust isn't something we give easily in this life, and Chloe Matthews is the definition of an outsider. But something in my gut tells me she's different.

"She doesn't know enough to be dangerous," I say, "And what she does know – that we're bikers – is enough to keep her in line."

Butcher, my VP, moves to stand beside me.

"This is getting out of hand fast. First, they hit one of our weapon stashes, then we broke the legs of one of their guys, then… Mark; then we hit their weapon stash..." He shakes his head. "Now they're bold enough to attack our bar?"

"They crossed a line tonight," I agree, watching as our prospects help secure the prisoners. "Coming to our territory, our home? They’re asking for war."

"Are we sure they knew Mark was one of us?" Maverick asks.

"The prospect was wearing our colors," I growl. "They knew what targeting him meant. Everything after that is on them."

My phone buzzes.

A text from my daughter: "She's asking questions. Lots of them. Smart girl."

---