Defiance (5 page)

Chapter Five

Caspar got Mathias and Bishop settled into his place. Tagged the van so no one would fuck with it and left them in the diner that was ensconced on Defiance’s property since the Chaos.

Letting them stay in Defiance HQ was one thing. Former military was always accepted inside.

Getting into the MC was a different story, but he’d deal with that shit later. It was time for church. The weekly Wednesday meeting in the clubhouse wasn’t something you missed without a damned good excuse.

He figured telling them all that he just didn’t want to fucking go wouldn’t fly.

“How’s Tru?” Silas asked, joining him on the path to the main clubhouse in the center of the compound. Silas had been waiting for him, watching the other members stagger and strut and amble inside, all of them no doubt talking about what went down last night.

Caspar shrugged.

“Dad’s pissed.”

Caspar shrugged again. That shit didn’t scare him, never had, even though he’d pretended different. His whole life was pretend, expect when it came to Tru.

She was on lockdown, not fighting it. Everyone looked to Caspar to figure out what the fuck was happening and he let everyone’s goddamned opinions roll off his back. Lance had avoided him until this point and Trixie had been the only one to see Tru since Caspar left her alone last night.

It killed him to stay away. But he’d see her soon enough—he’d meet with Paddy in less than twenty-four hours.

Now, outside the clubhouse door, he stood guard until Lance approached. When he’d taken over from Big Hugh as Enforcer, he’d taken over making sure the clubhouse was secured after every man was inside.

Lance was always the second to last one in. The men were already seated around the table and waiting for him, showing proper respect. He passed Caspar silently and Caspar followed him in, locked the door behind him and went to the table.

The meeting table was long and narrow, with Lance at the head, Silas to his left. The spot where Big Hugh used to sit, to Lance’s right, had remained empty for the last several weeks, out of respect. Caspar sat beside the empty seat. Of the thirteen men who sat at the table, Rebel was the newest addition. Son of one of the founding members, his father was killed during the Chaos. Because of the timing, it was too much to hold elections, so Rebel had been voted in unanimously at seventeen.

Now, at twenty, he was probably one of the wisest men at the table.

But there were things happening beyond the table, apart from the votes discussed in the privacy of church.

“We don’t need legal. Legal means shit,” Lance had said at the last meeting, and Caspar had argued against that.

“Legal gets us contracts with government and military and private citizens. Legal pays and keeps families safe. Because we’re in the fucking dark here. Comms suck, cash is king and it’s fucking dangerous enough,” he’d told him.

“We’re prepped for ambushes.”

Yes, the compound was wired at night. Yes, there were armed guards all over the property, including, in the trees, snipers Caspar had trained himself. He’d gotten shipments of night vision goggles redirected his way, which were a definite tactical advantage.

His men shot to kill. Fuck the questions first. Their time was spent working, gambling, fighting and fucking. Watching for ambushes and gangs.

The mafias were trying to horn in. After the Chaos, everyone went into a tight-knit circle with their own people; once they got comfortable with the new structure of things, all the criminals made the Chaos work for them. You couldn’t let your guard down, but you also couldn’t climb into bed with the first criminal organization that flashed green.

“Let’s start,” Lance rumbled. He slammed the gavel down to get everyone’s attention and the men stopped their private talks and waited for the new business.

“Got two guys rolled in. Former military. Good assets to Defiance,” Caspar said, instead of bringing up the obvious.

“They know you’re Tru’s bitch?” Roan asked with his typical brand of goading.

Caspar stared at him. “Didn’t know better, I’d say she made you her bitch first.”

At Caspar’s words, Roan was on his feet. Caspar was too, just as quickly, but they were separated by the table so he jumped the fuck over it, landed in front of the asshole.

“You know what you gotta do to shut that bitch down.” Roan spit after he spoke, narrowly missing Caspar’s shoes, and Caspar still couldn’t tell if he was malicious or truly stupid.

“Boys,” Lance said, but he was enjoying the fuck out of the discord. It was Silas who got in between them.

“Cut it out, Roan. Not his fault Tru went off the deep end.” Silas pushed Roan, who took several steps back. Caspar didn’t. “Maybe Paddy’s drugs fried her brain. She knows the rules.”

“She led Paddy on—fucked him, let him think she’d bond with him, then came back here, where no one fuckin’ wants her. Expects us to make an enemy of Paddy for her. She deserves what she’s gonna get. No woman gets away with that shit. Made Paddy look stupid. Made us look stupider,” Roan spat.

“I’m just glad Big Hugh’s not here to see this. Would’ve killed him to know she was with Paddy,” Lance said.

Didn’t kill him to beat the shit out of her every night.
Didn’t kill him to put his fingers between her legs.

“You know what you’ve gotta do, Cas,” Silas told him, but his eyes were troubled. “Gotta follow MC bylaws.”

Caspar heard Tru’s voice in his head, calling him
Cas
, over and over when he took her that first time, three years ago.

He’d hated the nickname since, because it reminded him of what he’d lost. When she’d called him that her first night back in Defiance, the intimacy of it had nearly choked him.

Roan stabbed a finger at him. “The Enforcer’s job means enforcing the fuckin’ rules, so you better know what you gotta do.”

Take a stand for the club.
Appease Paddy’s crew.
Keep the peace and show the Kill Devils that Defiance isn’t weak.

Caspar had been waiting a long time for this.

Chapter Six

A brutally cold day had segued into an equally bitter evening. Few people used the day and nighttime distinctions any longer, but they made Tru feel safe and sane. After two years, she could finally tell the nuanced difference when it passed from day to dusk to full night. The moon was behind the atmospheric dust, was talked about sometimes the way people would mention they’d seen Bigfoot or the Loch Ness monster. Pure myth, because the moon couldn’t break through.

But the sun could, with the help of a satellite that was developed years before the Chaos, for just such an event. The satellite would break through the volcanic ash and other debris blocking the rays and would punch a hole in the atmosphere to allow light through.

In two weeks, the sun would shine on Defiance. The schedule was regulated somewhat so each city could count on their several hours of sunlight every couple of weeks and make the most of it.

Two weeks ago, she’d gotten two hours of sunlight sitting on the roof of the Kill Devils’ clubhouse, because everyone was allowed outside when the sun emerged. It had been through a veil of haze, but it was strong enough to make her skin tingle, the way it had when she’d lay out on the beach in her bikini, thinking nothing would ever change.

It seemed now that nothing ever really did.

She walked behind Caspar into the middle of the grassless field, a gathering of twenty of the Defiance MC following behind. Padraic’s men were already set up on the other side and Lance ordered the spotlights lit, but faced them in the air so they wouldn’t blind Padraic’s men.

Normally, Lance wouldn’t give away a tactical advantage like that. The fear already lodged in her throat tightened it further knowing he, like the others, was expecting Caspar to make nice with the Kill Devils.

It was either her bonding day or her funeral. She might’ve once said they were the same, but that was before Caspar. He’d always been able to turn her stubbornness around. He was the only one.

He had the violence in him—she’d never doubted he could be cruel enough to call for her dishonoring if necessary.

Now, she stopped several feet back from the middle of the field, watched with her heart in her throat as Caspar continued his stride without a glance back. She was set apart from her own MC, although not quite in the middle of the field. That was where Caspar and Padraic would converge.

Padraic, with dark hair that curled around his shoulders. He was handsome in a way that had never fit with an MC president. As kind as any of the men she’d met in this grouping, until he’d realized he wasn’t getting his way with her.

She’d met him several times when she’d been younger, when the gangs had been on a more friendly basis. Once Chaos reigned, they all saw their opportunities and grabbed for them. For Padraic, Tru was one such opportunity. He’d known she’d run from Defiance. All the gangs did, because capturing her would’ve been a huge boon.

And she’d walked right inside the lion’s den and offered herself to one of the biggest predators.

The Defiance men were muttering. She knew none of them were happy with her. If it weren’t for Caspar, they would’ve turned her over to Padraic much sooner than this.

Her stomach twisted. She fought the urge to vomit, to run...to beg Caspar not to do what the MC expected of him and give her over to Padraic.

There was a different loyalty between the brotherhood of the club and the loyalty between an MC member and his woman. And even though she could still feel the closeness she and Caspar had that night before she left, even though she’d held on to that for years, used it to get her through the worst of her situation, she was counting on his feeling the same about her. In turn, he felt angry and used.

The night she’d left with Caspar, she’d asked him if he ever felt like he hadn’t had a choice in any of this.

You’re breathin’
,
you got a choice.

She chose to believe in him now, fiercely, with everything she had, remained behind him and slightly to his right, refusing to hide behind him completely. He hadn’t looked or spoken to her once since Trixie had brought her out of hiding no more than ten minutes earlier. The set of his shoulders in his black leather cuts, the size of them, made her feel protected.

She hung onto that with everything she had as Caspar advanced to Padraic so they were separated from the crowds. She stood still, hands at her sides, fisted so no one could see them tremble.

As the men did before a fight, they bumped fists. It was both a greeting and a warning that a fight could start.

Caspar gave zero indication as to which way this would go.

It was Padraic who spoke first. “Know what you gotta do to keep the peace, Caspar.”

Caspar was silent for a long moment, and when he spoke, his voice rumbled through her like a rough but welcomed touch. “You askin’ or tellin’?”

And then he didn’t wait for an answer. Hadn’t needed one and if she’d blinked, she’d have missed it. But she’d have heard that terrible snapping sound and then the drop of a body to the ground. As it was, she’d never forget the quickness of Caspar’s hands as they’d meted out punishment on her behalf, never forget the look on Padraic’s face.

And then Caspar stood alone, his stance defiant. And there was no blood on his hands. A clean kill, with Padraic’s still body at his feet.

“I started this goddamned war. Not her. So anyone’s got a problem with it, deal with me,” Caspar roared into the stunned silence at the small crowd from the Kill Devils.

He was her warrior, standing proud and strong.

It stood to reason that her bonding night would be full of blood, violence and anarchy. It could never have been any other way. But with that blood and violence, he’d proven that he would be hers. In return, she would beg for him.

* * *

Paddy’s men were furious, but their raw grief made them angry and disorganized. It was the worst combination possible and Caspar counted on that as he unleashed his aggression with zero hesitation. He hadn’t been allowed a true fight in years, had known there would be fallout immediately following his announcement and had roared it purposely so there would be no mistaking his intent.

He remained silent as he began to fight his way through the remaining nineteen men. Couldn’t afford to turn his back on these guys and check on Tru, but he’d given Rebel his orders earlier. Had zero doubt he could trust the man who sat to his right at the table.

It was always twenty men from each side when they came to a dishonoring. Once word of what happened here spread through all the Kill Devils charters, there were no more rules to apply. War between two MCs was automatically declared by the killing of a charter president and it meant total and complete anarchy between the two MCs.

From that, he’d rebuild, even if killed him. And it might. But not today. This was step one, with many more to go.

He knew some of the Defiance men wouldn’t join him in this fight. Hadn’t expected them all to stand behind him on this, although once Lance wrapped his goddamned tiny mind around it, they would all have to.

He didn’t mind standing alone. It suited him. The rest crowded around him as he ducked and punched and proved why he wasn’t allowed to fight in the regular ring matches.

He was too powerful. Or maybe there was something inside of him that uncaged, a beast uncoiling. And he wouldn’t hold back that violence now. His fist connected to a nose, then a jaw. He’d take several punches himself, wouldn’t feel them until much later.

At least, in this world, the rules of the fight hadn’t changed. Kill or be killed. In this case, he took down as many as he could in front of him. Everything became a blur of bodies and sweat and pain, and that’s where he was most comfortable. That’s what let him know he was still goddamned alive, so he took every hit, every kick and returned them threefold.

As the Kill Devils resistance thinned, he became aware he was far from alone in this fight. Cage and Rico jumped ahead of him. Hammer and Lil’jon were there too, like bookends bodyguarding him, he noted.

Rebel jumped in behind him, a quick nod to let him know Tru was safe inside Defiance’s gates.

This is where the men he’d helped to train really shined—for a second he stopped to watch them in action. Someone had turned the spotlights directly on the field now, and it was slowing all of them down. But a fight like this in total darkness was an invitation for someone to break out a machine gun.

Two of Paddy’s right-hand men—identical twins nicknamed Tic and Toc—came at him. He heard them calling him a bastard, a traitor, a fucker, and he waited until they were on him before he grabbed the chain Tic was planning on wrapping around his neck.

Caspar wound it around his hand instead and punched Toc in the side of the head, then did the same to his brother. They stumbled, disoriented, and Mathias appeared and took out a Kill Devils member who’d been coming at Caspar with a wicked-looking blade. In a flash, Mathias turned the knife around and stabbed the Kill Devil straight through his heart, a clean slice.

Mathias left the blade inside the man, dropped him and moved along without a glance back.

He hadn’t been able to pick Mathias and Bishop as part of the nineteen to walk with him tonight. They weren’t Defiance members, but they’d just tipped their hands, shown their allegiance.

Killing the men for Caspar was a sign of respect. They’d be good to have on his side, to watch Tru’s back especially.

He tucked that away, continued fighting as the death toll for Paddy’s group continued to climb. If he had his way, there would be zero Kill Devils left standing.

* * *

The battle that ensued was nothing short of mayhem. Rebel dragged Tru from the crowd immediately. He placed her behind the heavy gates, safely in Defiance territory with Trixie for their protection and told her to stay put. But she moved quickly, hopped onto the roof of a car and lay down so she could still see the fight, watched in horror and appreciation as Caspar moved aggressively forward after his proclamation.

He hadn’t waited for the crowd to erupt. Instead, he’d kicked Padraic’s body aside and tore into Padraic’s men. The group seemed to swallow him whole, even as Rebel, Hammer and several others followed him in.

Silas wasn’t among them. She hadn’t expected Roan to back Caspar, but Silas hanging back made her angry. Especially after all the times Caspar had fought for him when they’d all been younger.

She must’ve unconsciously started moving forward, toward the fight, when she lost track of Caspar. Strong hands gripped her shoulders, pulling her back from the fray and no, she wanted to see Caspar, to make sure he was okay. She fought hard, clawed at the hands gripping her biceps.

“What the hell are you doing?” Trixie’s rough rasp of a voice.

“I need to check on him. I can take care of myself.” She realized wanting to go to the field to protect Caspar was ridiculous, but nothing about her feelings for him had ever been rational. She held up the gun Rebel had slipped her to show Trixie, who shook her head.

“This is nothing. You’re going to have to fight for your life soon enough,” Trixie told her. “What the hell did you start, girl?”

Tru yanked away from her. “I chose my man. The rest will follow.”

“If Lance doesn’t kill you first.”

The sound of a primal scream cut through the night’s violence. She turned, saw the smoke and smelled the blood, saw the mass of bodies. Heard fists hitting flesh.

“
This is only a preview of things to come.
”

She wasn’t sure who said it, but it rang in her ears like a bell, wouldn’t stop echoing. She put her hands over her ears, shook off help.

And then she ran deeper into the compound, gun at her side, because for her, running was what she’d done best.

Running had saved her. She’d run to escape the horrors of her house and she wasn’t sure she’d ever stopped.