Page 10 of Protector

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re just as good as I remember,” Cobra taunted at my back as he ripped me wide open again. He was going to strike, over and over, filling my body with his venom.

Tears poured from the corners of my eyes, and the room began to grow dim, but still, I fought. I knew it was futile as I battled the waves surrounding me, trying to push myself above the water long enough to take a breath.

The numbness set in as the toxins took over and my body relaxed, dragging me down into the depths of oblivion. I’d always expected death to hurt, but it came as a welcome embrace.

Chapter Two

Grey: 2000

Ijumped out of the truck we’d taken from one of the New Mexico bikers, the dormant grass crunching under the heels of my boots as I raced across the front lawn. The drive down the mountain had been a white-knuckle experience, with Slim taking the icy switchbacks at full speed while I pleaded with him to go faster.

“Grey,” Bear called after me. “Wait a minute. We don’t know what we’re walking into here.”

Didn’t we?

I turned around. “One of us does.”

Slim had been the one to take the call from Comedian just outside of New Mexico but had refused to tell me anything about Celia’s condition, other than that she was alive. His face had gone as white as a sheet, and it hadn’t escaped my attention that he kept his foot mashed against the accelerator, even when the governor kicked in.

The driver’s side door opened, and the man in question slowly climbed out to face me. “Jamie—”

“I’m goin’ in there, Slim. Ain’t one of you gonna stop me.”

The alcohol had worn off hours ago, leaving me with panicked thoughts and a shitload of adrenaline. I would’ve torn the house down brick by brick to get to her and not even broken a sweat.

He nodded. “No one’s tryin’ to stop you, but you need to know what we’re up against. Hawk rolled over, and now every club around knows you ain’t with the Reaper. He wasn’t working alone either.”

The implication of his words hit me dead in the eyes. I’d had every piece of my exit strategy in place… save one.

Her.

I’d listened to the wrong people and left my family alone with someone who’d betrayed them; convinced myself they were safer here than they were with me. Celia herself had begged me not to go, and as usual, I did what I wanted.

My boots hit the front porch, and I took a deep breath; suddenly reliving every fucking second of my nightmare. I knew what lay on the other side of the door.

It was always the same.

Only this time, I wouldn’t wake up in my wife’s arms.

Richard jumped up from the recliner when I threw open the front door before falling onto the coffee table with a yelp. “G-Grey? You’re dead. You died. We were at your funeral.”

His words tumbled together, and he ran the back of his hand over his swollen eyes, trying to compose himself. “I didn’t know who else to call. I didn’t know—”

Out of habit, I checked behind the door, silently breathing a sigh of relief upon seeing that the space was empty. The carpet was free of stains and didn’t squish beneath my boots.

This wasn’t like before.

As I glanced around the room, nothing appeared to be out of place. I could almost believe that it had all been a bad dream.

Almost.

“I’ll deal with you later. Right now, I need—”

Angel stepped out into the hall, closing the bedroom door softly behind him before crossing the room. “You need to shut the fuck up,” he stated, his voice low and even. “She’s resting.”

His eyes flashed with anger, but I was distracted by the sight of bloodstained clothing. I was a scared sixteen-year-old kid again, standing in the exact same spot where I’d rocked my mother’s dead body in my arms. “Is she?”

I didn’t know what I was asking. She wasn’t okay; that much was obvious, judging by the state Angel was in.

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