Page 26 of Deserter

Despite the fact that we’d been outnumbered, the Serpents began retreating toward the parking lot. Depending on where Slim was, they weren’t going to get far.

Glass crunched beneath our boots as we charged our rivals. I watched with amusement as Daniel slipped out from behind the bar. Comedian caught him by the collar and ran his blade under his chin before kneeling beside Viper.

The biker’s eyes widened, and he began reaching for a weapon while fighting for his next breath.

“What’s that? You wanna know how the joke ends? Okay, I’ll tell you. They didn’t say a damn thing because they were stuck up cunts.” With that, he slit Viper’s throat, sending a spray of blood onto the front of his kutte.

Dragon lay slumped against a stool, surrounded by pieces of his own skull. A bloody line of blow was still laid out on the bar top above him.

President.

Vice-President.

Executed.

There were bodies everywhere. Some of theirs and more than a few of ours. The bar grew quiet again as the fight moved outside and I paused to see the ambush for what it truly was; another opportunity for me to correct a mistake.

There was no one to witness what I was about to do.

As far as anyone would know, Comedian had been killed by the Serpents. He began stripping Viper of his jewelry and cash, keeping his back to me.

I raised my gun, and he suddenly cocked his head to the side as if listening for something. “Grey,” he said slowly.

My name was going to be the last word on his lips.

I moved my finger off the slide just as he spun around to face me, his own weapon trained on my face. My heart hammered against my chest and I struggled to make sense of what he was doing in the nanoseconds it took him to pull the trigger.

I felt the bullet as it passed within inches of my face before embedding itself in the forehead of a Serpent who’d been seconds away from cutting my throat. The knife fell from his limp hand and clattered as it hit the wood flooring the same time his body did.

Comedian saw that my gun was still trained in his direction and he turned around, looking toward the front doors. “Who the fuck are you aiming at?”

“Me.” Slim stepped through the broken door. “It’s just me, Grey. They’re all dead. Drop the gun.”

I realized then that he knew what I’d been about to do. He knew and was still going to cover for me.

“Thank Christ, Slim. I was starting to worry that ol’ eagle eye was about to take me out.”

Chapter Seven

Grey: 1986

Slim stepped over the bodies, never once taking his eyes off of mine. “What the fuck was that?” he hissed after checking to ensure that Comedian was out of earshot.

I looked down at the dead biker near my feet and then back to him. “Comedian just saved my ass. Fuckin’ Serpent was going to cut my throat.”

I had to be in shock.

“You were about to blow his fuckin’ head off, Grey. I saw you! And again, I ask, what the fuck?”

I stumbled over to a chair and sank down onto it. “I—” I looked up at him, feeling completely helpless. “I had to do it, Slim.”

He looked toward the front again before rounding on me. “Do I like the fuckin’ jokes? No! Doesn’t mean I’m gonna blow him away to get away from it though—”

“Stop. You’re getting it twisted. The kid, Slim. I had to do it for the kid.” I forced myself to keep eye contact, silently pleading for him to understand.

He leaned over, resting his arms on the small table in front of us. “I don’t see how his kid factors into any of this, Grey. I know he roughs them up, but you can’t intervene in every single domestic issue because it reminds you of your ma. This is a part of club life, you know that.”

“We should check on the other guys,” I admitted, giving up any hopes of confession.

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