Page 14 of Total Carnage
I couldn't help but chuckle darkly. "Darlin', my heart's been guarded since the day I patched in. It's my trigger finger you gotta worry about."
Mama Céleste's lips twitched in what might have been a smile. "Bravado won't save you from what's coming. Remember, in the world between worlds, nothing is as it seems."
"Right," I said, shaking my head. "Any other fortune cookie wisdom before I hit the road?"
Her expression softened, just a fraction. "Be careful, child. The spirits have plans for you, but even they can't protect you from everything. Beware of the carnage."
I nodded, a lump forming in my throat. Damn witch was getting to me. "Thanks, Mama. I'll... keep that in mind."
As I stepped out of the shack, the humid night air hit me like a wall. The weight of everything I'd learned pressed down on my shoulders, heavier than any kutte I'd ever worn. But fuck it, I'd carried heavier loads before. I strode to my bike, each step purposeful. The chrome gleamed in the moonlight, a familiar comfort. I swung my leg over, feeling the machine come alive beneath me as I fired up the engine.
The roar of the motor drowned out the whispers of doubt in my head. Kentucky was calling, and with it, Raven and all the answers I needed. Death might be nipping at my heels, but I'd be damned if I'd let it catch me before I finished what I started.
I gave one last look at the weathered shack, Mama Céleste's silhouette visible in the doorway. Then I kicked the bike intogear and tore off into the night, the bayou swallowing me whole as I raced towards my destiny.
The swamp closed in around me, ancient cypress trees looming like silent sentinels. My thoughts raced faster than my bike, a jumbled mess of hope and fear. "Fuck," I said, swerving to avoid a fallen branch. "Kentucky. Why'd it have to be Kentucky?" Although I was already heading that way to kill Stansfield for what he’d done, Raven being alive, possibly with him, complicated things.
The anticipation of seeing Raven again set my blood on fire. I could almost feel her soft skin under my hands, taste her on my lips. But with every mile, the dread grew stronger, a cold pit in my stomach. "Death shadowing my footsteps," I growled, twisting the throttle harder. "Bring it on, you son of a bitch."
The bike roared in response, echoing through the bayou. I thought about Stansfield, that smug bastard who thought he could play God. My hands tightened on the grips. "I'm coming for you, asshole. And this time, I'm not the one who’s going to meet his maker."
The trees thinned out, giving way to an open road. I leaned into the curves, letting the familiar rhythm calm my nerves. Whatever waited for me in Kentucky—Raven, Stansfield, or Death himself—I’d face it head-on.
As the first light of dawn broke over the horizon, I disappeared into it, leaving the bayou and its mysteries behind. The road stretched out before me, a dark ribbon leading to an uncertain future. But I was ready. Come hell or high water, I'd find the truth. And God help anyone who tried to stop me.
Raven
Iknelt before the door, my fingers dancing over the lock with practiced precision. The metal was cool against my skin, unlike the fire burning in my veins. My heart thundered in my chest, but I forced my breathing to remain steady. I'd waited too long for this moment to fuck it up now.
The lock gave way with a soft click, and a smirk tugged at my lips. "That's right, you bastard," I whispered. "Open up for mama."
I eased the door open, wincing at the faint creak of hinges. The hallway stretched before me, a dim tunnel of shadows and secrets. I slipped out, my movements fluid and silent as a cat on the prowl. My senses went into overdrive, every nerve ending on high alert. I could almost taste the danger on my tongue. But danger was an old friend, and tonight, it was my ticket to freedom.
I pressed myself against the wall, listening intently for any sign of the guards. There was nothing but the quiet hum of the air conditioning and the distant tick of a clock. Good. I had time.
"Alright, Raven," I thought to myself. "You've got one shot at this. Don't fuck it up." I took a deep breath, steadying myself for what lay ahead. The truth was out there, waiting to be uncovered, and I'd be damned if I let it slip through my fingers again. As I crept down the hallway, my mind raced with the urgency of my mission. Every step brought me closer to answers, but also to the possibility of discovery. "Come on, you sons of bitches," I uttered under my breath. "Just try and stop me."
I slunk through the familiar corridors, my footsteps as light as whispers. Each turn brought a new wave of memories. "If this works," I thought, heart pounding, "I'll never see these walls again." The idea was intoxicating, like the first hit of freedom after years in chains.
As I approached my father's office, doubt crept in like a cold draft. What if I was wrong? What if this was all for nothing? I shook it off. No time for that shit now.
The door stood slightly ajar, a sliver of darkness beckoning me in. I hesitated, my hand hovering over the polished wood. This was it—the point of no return. "Fuck it," I whispered, pushing the door open. "In for a penny, in for a pound."
The office was bathed in shadows, the moonlight casting eerie patterns across the floor. I slipped inside, my eyes adjusting to the gloom. The air was thick with the scent of leather and expensive cigars—the smell of power and corruption. I’d seen some shady people visit the farm, so nothing about my father surprised me anymore.
I moved towards the desk, my heart hammering so loud I was sure it would give me away. Every creak of the floorboards sent a jolt of panic through me. "Come on, old man," I said, rifling through the drawers. "Where are you hiding your dirty littlesecrets?" Suddenly, a noise from the hallway froze me in place. Footsteps, getting closer. Shit. I had to move, and fast. "Think, Raven," I hissed to myself. "Think!"
The footsteps were almost at the door. Time was up. I had to make a choice—and pray to whatever gods were listening that it was the right one. Then the footsteps continued down the hall, allowing me to breathe again.
My eyes landed on a stack of documents on the desk. Bingo. I moved closer, fingers flying through the papers as I scanned each one. My breath caught in my throat as I hit the jackpot.
"Holy shit," I whispered, my eyes widening as I read the details of my father’s plans against the Royal Bastards MC. That bastard, along with a Louisiana senator, was planning to wipe them out, using every dirty trick in their arsenal. The National Chapter was in their crosshairs.
I couldn't help but smirk. "Daddy dearest, you're one vengeful fuck."
As I shuffled through the papers, a small note fluttered to the floor. I snatched it up, curiosity overriding caution. My heart nearly stopped as I read its contents. "No fucking way," I breathed, shock coursing through me. A surviving member of Hell's Justice MC? I thought they were all dead.
The note detailed an altercation with the Bloody Scorpion MC, and the Hell’s Justice member. My mind raced, trying to piece it all together. A man named Jameson had offered the man the president of the new Lexington, Kentucky chapter of the Royal Bastards. Fucking shit!
