Page 72 of The Biker's Second Chance
Third call. A woman, cold as ice. “That name is poison. Don’t call here again.” Click.
Each denial slams the nail deeper. Xavier’s face drains of color. His guards twitch, unsure.
“You see, Xavier,” I say, my voice steel now, “you don’t have friends. You don’t have power. You’re nothing but a parasite. And parasites get burned out.”
“You...fuck you!” He shoots to his feet, voice cracking. “I built this empire! They wouldn’t have shit without me! You think you can just walk in here and?—”
The door bursts open. More guards flood in, weapons drawn. Still not enough to keep me from ending this. Xavier bolts, scrambling for the back office.
“Take ‘em!” I bark, before I grab hold of the women and rush them out of danger. "Get back to the bikes, we'll be there soon."
I come back into the room and it has completely erupted. Gunfire shreds the walls, sparks raining. Lash drops two men before they can aim. Rumble tackles one, smashing his skull into the concrete with a wet crack. Tella moves like a shadow, blade in hand, cutting a man’s throat so clean he drops without a sound. I put a bullet through the last one’s chest, the recoil sharp in my palm, smell of cordite thick in the air.
We push through the smoke and chase Xavier. His office reeks of cheap cologne and whiskey. He’s cornered, chest heaving, eyes wild.
“You can’t kill me,” he spits, backing up against the desk. “You know who I am? I’ve got protection. I’ve got?—”
“No,” I cut him off. “You had protection. You had allies. You had girls in cages and blood on your hands. Now? You’ve got nothing.”
He fumbles for a drawer, maybe a gun. Leo kicks the desk hard enough it topples sideways, pinning Xavier against the wall.
“Please,” Xavier gasps, desperation cracking his voice. “We can deal, Spike. You want money? Girls? I’ll triple what you’re getting now. Just...just don’t do this.”
I step in, pressing the barrel of my gun to his forehead. His skin is slick with sweat, his eyes darting for mercy that isn’t there.
“This is for Zero,” I whisper.
His mouth opens, some last plea spilling out, but the shot cuts it off. His body jerks, then slumps, blood streaking the wall. The smell of iron fills the room.
Silence settles, heavy, final.
Leo wipes his blade on Xavier’s jacket. Lash spits on the corpse. Rumble mutters something about him getting off easy, low and rough. Tella just stares, unreadable.
I lower my gun, the weight of it heavy in my hand. It’s done. Xavier’s gone. The Burning Souls are leaderless.
But as I stand there, staring at his lifeless eyes, one question claws at me.
With Xavier dead, is this over? Or did we just cut off one head of a hydra we can’t yet see?
Either way, all I want right now is to go home. I want to hold Jayne in my arms and let her know she's got nothing more to be afraid of.
I've fixed it. I've become a different but better version of myself because of this, because of her.
This may not be the last we hear of this shit but for now it's done.
Time to celebrate.
CHAPTER 37
STARS IN HIS EYES
JAYNE
Rumble kicks in the door with his boot like a showman and throws his arms wide. “Xavier is dead,” he booms, voice rich with triumph, like he just planted a flag on the moon.
The room explodes. Cheers crack the air. Someone laughs so hard she hiccups. Two women cling to each other and sob into shared blankets. Another lifts her chin and lets out a raw yell that turns into a shaky laugh, like freedom is a taste she is trying to learn. The clubhouse smells like leather, coffee that has been burned to hell, and detergent from the mountain of washed clothes we got from every discount store within ten miles.
Mariah shoulders past Rumble with a grin too sharp to be sweet. “Took you long enough, big guy. I thought maybe you stopped for a snack on the way back.”
