Page 75 of Dancin' with Demons

Sandra gently lays her hand on my shoulder. “Irene is exactly right, Ray. Catacomb isn’t making his choices because he wants to hurt anyone. He’s doing it because the alternative is too uncertain for him. He can’t risk your life, Savior’s life, the lives of his brothers by letting them go. His sole job as president is to protect all those within the club or under it’s protection. Sometimes, that means doing really bad things because the alternative is worse.”

For a while I sit quietly, letting their words sink in. The moment I really process it all and realize they’re right, I sigh. “Ugh. It still fucking bothers me, though.”

“It should,” Miss Irene says. “If you asked, you’d probably find out it bothers them, too. Taking someone else’s life shouldn’t be easy or done lightly. Anyone that can feel even a smidge of emotion is affected by having to do something so abhorrent. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t necessary. Police and soldiers take lives often, that doesn’t mean it doesn’t affect them.”

“You’re right, I—“

Several loud pops go off, and all three of us freeze. At the second round of rapid pops, Sandra stands. A moment later, the crack of splintering wood echoes from the front of the house as deep voices yell from outside.

Standing, I step toward Sandra as Reaper comes stumbling into the living room, his hand pressed against his left shoulder as blood seeps through his fingers. “Get Savior!”

My daughter jumps up and runs to the couch, climbing next to Miss Irene as Reaper moves his hand from his shoulder and reaches behind him to pull a gun out before turning to face the hallway.

“Oh, fuck toy,” a deep, sinister, and familiar voice sounds from around the corner. “Daddy’s home.”

Two men step into view, the second with a gun pointed right at Reaper. I let me eyes roam over the first man, who doesn’t have a gun out, and realization hits me like a ton of bricks.

“Hard-On,” I whisper, my blood running cold.

“Ding-ding!” he says with a smile. “Mmmm-mmm-mmm. I sure have missed you, Raylynn.”

Well, shit.

Chapter 27

Renegade

“Relax, man,” Catacomb says, “she’ll be fine. If I had a fuckin’ dime for every time Sandra and I fought over the shit I can’t tell her, I’d be fuckin’ loaded.”

“I thought you were loaded, Prez?” Hobgoblin says, playfully smackin’ my arm.

The moment Raylynn stormed outta here, Catacomb told the guys to bring the chairs and shit to the center of the common room. Everyone grabbed a drink, and we been shootin’ the shit and talkin’ since. I honestly can’t remember the last time the brothers did this.

“I am,” he says with a smirk as he takes a swig from his beer, “but I’d be like Bill Gates fuckin’ loaded.”

I snicker. “And how exactly do you get back in Sandra’s good graces after all these supposed fights?” Typhoon says with a knowin’ gleam in his eye.

“With my tongue, brother,” Catacomb says, sendin’ the guys into a round of laughter. “So, when Raylynn gets back, man, just lick your way back into her good graces.”

Rollin’ my eyes, I take a sip of my beer as Hobgoblin and Trickster both pat me on the back in jest. “If fuckin’ issues out of Raylynn was that easy, she’d never be mad about shit.”

Catacomb sits up and stares at me. “Well, I guess that just means you’ll have to eat a lot brother. Don’t worry, we’ll watch Savior for you.”

Now, I laugh loudly. “I appreciate that, dick.”

Catacomb sits forward and pulls his phone out, glancin’ at the screen. “It’s Sandra. See, she probably already has Raylynn Calmed down.” Hittin’ the screen with his thumb he holds the phone out so everyone can hear. “Hey, babe.”

“Your pussy-ass bikers ain’t here to save you now,” a deep, menacin’ voice says, though, it sound like the person is a decent bit away from the phone.

“You know, Hard-On,” Sandra says, “I would’ve thought my ol’ man and his brothers killin’ your entire club would have made you smarter.”

Every brother closes in, listenin’ to the call. Sandra is fuckin’ smart.

“Let’s go,” Catacomb says, quietly, pullin’ his bluetooth from his pocket and puttin’ it in his ear. He won’t hang that call up until we’re at Irene’s.

I don’t slow down to see whose followin’ me. I’m one of the first out the clubhouse door, on my bike, and on the fuckin’ road. The only thing I care about is gettin’ to the women and makin’ sure they are safe. Then I can focus on exactly how I’m gonna kill Hard-On and whoever is with him.

The rumble of bikes as we turn onto the road that leads to Irene’s shakes the forest around us. My blood runs fuckin’ cold as I stop, the brothers all pullin’ in beside and behind me. Every one of us pulls a gun as we approach the porch.

---