Retribution: A Motorcycle Club Romance (16 page)

“We are literally standing on the
ruins,” said Ghost. “You’re lying to yourself, and we can’t let you drag these
people into this anymore.”

Before Will could explode at Ghost,
he heard Eva’s voice from behind the bar. “Will, what are they talking about?”

Will felt pain in his chest as he
turned. Her big brown eyes stared into his, beautiful and trusting and sweet.
She didn’t belong in this dark, brutal world of his—just like his grandmother
had not belonged, had been completely unprepared. He wanted to shuffle her away
to some place as peaceful and pretty as she was, where he could keep her safe
and happy and ignorant of all of this.

He couldn’t find words to answer her.
He could only feel the desperation in his eyes, on his face, as he stared at
the sadness on hers.

“He’s a fucking fake, is what he is,”
said Charlie. “Should’ve known you were a crazy asshole from the second I saw
you.”

Will turned to glare at Charlie. “You
would be a pile of bones right now if it weren’t for me, you helpless little
fuck. You have no idea—”

The rage in Will’s eyes made Charlie
take a step back, and made Jase take a step forward, putting out a big arm to
act as a barrier between the two men. “Jesus, Will, get a grip.”

When Jase’s other hand made contact
with Will’s shoulder, he threw it off angrily and shoved Jase in the chest with
both hands and all his weight. Surprised, Jase stumbled backwards until the
jukebox broke his fall. “Don’t fucking tell me what to do, you stupid prick!
I’ve had it with your shit!”

With frightening speed, Jase launched
himself off the jukebox and came at Will, eyes as black as hell. Will squared
up and stood his ground, fists knuckle-white, knowing Jase’s hit would likely
knock him on his ass and not giving a single fuck anyway. Suddenly, strong arms
wrapped around him from behind and twisted him away from Jase’s warpath.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, now!” said Ghost,
as he kept Will wrapped in his left arm and stuck out his right to bring Jase
to a halt. Ghost positioned his body like a shield between them, using his
weight to keep them apart. Jase scrabbled and shoved at Ghost’s arm, his teeth
gritted, glaring at Will. “I know we’ve all been wondering about this ‘will
they or won’t they’ tension between you two, but let’s save it for the
clubhouse.”

Jase gave in first, but pointed a
threatening finger at Will. “You’re fucking asking for it, Bowers.”

Will flipped him the bird and yanked
himself out of Ghost’s grip, straightening his shirt. He looked over to see Eva
watching him with a sad look in her eyes. In the chaos, Charlie had moved
around to stand next to her, and his expression gave no illusions to how he
felt about Will.

“Let’s go,” said Ghost, tapping on
Will’s shoulder. “They’re waiting for us.”

Will didn’t know what to say to Eva.
He was so full of rage and bile and resentment that he couldn’t imagine what
she must be thinking at that moment, staring at him from across the room. He
watched her until Ghost was tugging at his arm, pulling him toward the door.
Jase didn’t wait for either of them, but stalked out into the parking lot.

Will left without saying a word to her,
unsure of where he was being led or what the fates had in store for him next.

~
SIXTEEN ~

Everything was just a blur of green light and deep
shadows as Eva pushed her way out of the bar and into the forest meadow. The
cooling air of coming autumn made the tears on her skin sting cold. She could
still hear the rumble of the motorcycles as they wound their way down the highway
and into town. Charlie called out after her, but she ignored him, picking her
way through the forest until she found a spot still lush with wildflowers and
soft, green grass. She lowered herself to the ground and pulled her knees to
her chest.

Her thoughts raced with the new
information. Will, in a motorcycle gang? It certainly explained a lot—and the
thought of being pressed up against him as he drove them around on a powerful
bike was instantly appealing. Eva wondered why he had bothered to keep such a
miniscule thing from her, considering, but the confrontation between him and
the two other bikers made clear that it wasn’t about hiding it from her—it was
about hiding
her
from
them.

She couldn’t forget how deeply pained
Will had seemed as he snarled and shoved at the men, men who introduced
themselves as Will’s friends. The way they talked to him enforced that, and it
was the second time the big black-haired one named Jase had reached out to
Will. They cared about him, just like she did. But she didn’t understand their
anger with him.

“Eva!”

She sighed as Charlie’s voice came
closer, finally spotting her in the meadow. He came to stand before her with
his arms crossed.

“I don’t want to talk to you,
Charlie,” said Eva, sniffling. She turned her head away from him. “I can’t
believe you just betrayed Will like that, after everything he’s done.”

“Excuse me?” said Charlie, instantly
flustered. “Eva, did you not hear everything that was said in there? That man
is a
criminal
, and he works with other criminals.”

“Oh, Christ, that’s not what bothers
you,” said Eva. “Half your friends from the neighborhood have records, so don’t
get all high and mighty on me, Charles Murdock.”

“You know he wanted to mount a
two-man war, with me and him, to track down those cartel boys and kill them? He
was gonna rope me into that bullshit, if I hadn’t put a stop to it. And it’s
not just us he’s tried to fuck over. According to his biker buddies, he’s been
pulling shit for months now. That guy is dangerous, Eva.”

“Of course he’s dangerous—he lives in
a dangerous world,” said Eva. The tears in her eyes didn’t feel sad anymore;
they stung with anger. “And he
protected us
from that world when it
showed up. That’s all he’s tried to do!”

“Jesus, you’re in love with him,
aren’t you?” Charlie spat in disgust.

Eva paused, then rose to her feet.
She didn’t know what she felt for Will, other than that it felt as if parts of
her were on fire that she didn’t know existed. “What the hell does that have to
do with anything?”

“Eva, Christ, you sure know how to
pick ‘em. First Rick, the worthless, abusive dirtbag, and now some psychotic,
fucked-up biker? You’re a piece of work.”

Before she could stop herself, Eva
slapped her brother across the face. Charlie cried out, more in surprise than
pain, but she could still see the red mark where she connected. Her brother
looked at her with shock in his eyes, but said nothing.

“Watch your mouth.” The voice that
came from her sounded unlike any tone Eva had ever taken, especially with
Charlie. “I’m not responsible for Rick’s behavior. And don’t you dare compare
him to Will.”

Charlie scoffed just a little,
rubbing the side of his face. “Christ…”

“Do you have any idea what he’s been
through? Do you know why Uncle Owen was able to afford this land so cheap in
the first place?”

“What?” said Charlie, frowning. “What
are you taking about?”

“Will’s grandmother was murdered here.
Murdered in her own home by the cartel, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.
You really expect him to sit here a second time, in the very spot she died, and
watch it happen again?”

Charlie took her by the shoulders.
“We’re not his family, Eva, he doesn’t have to protect us. We don’t know
anything about him. I’m trying to protect you, too—don’t you see that?”

“If Will hadn’t been here, we’d both
be dead, and you know it,” said Eva in a cold tone. “Is this really about
protecting me, or is about you being too full of pride to admit that this time,
you can’t?”

Charlie flushed red, giving her all
the answer she needed. She knew her brother too well for him to get away with a
lie so cleanly.

“Will isn’t some crazy thug out
looking for a fight. He used his power to protect us, just because he
could—because he knew it was the right thing to do.”

“Or because he
likes fighting
,”
said Charlie. “Or because he saw an opportunity to get into your pants by
playing the hero.”

Eva folded her arms. “Is that how little
you think of me? Like I’m some child stupid enough to think fairytales are real
and princes come riding in to save people? I’m not an idiot, Charlie. You can
give me shit for caring about Will, fine, but don’t try to write it off like
I’m just some dumb bimbo who can’t help but be seduced.”

“So you do have feelings for him.”

“Yes, all right? I care about him,”
she said. “I care about Will, and you know why? Because I see something in him
that you apparently can’t look deep enough to see. It’s the same kindness and
gentleness I used to see in Pa—and in you. He’s not perfect. He’s done bad
things. But he’s not a bad man, and he was doing the right fucking thing by us
until you turned him in to his club. You could have at least been a man about
it and told him to his face you didn’t like his plan.”

“I did tell him that, Eva. He
wouldn’t listen. Has he listened to a damn word I’ve said since he showed up in
this place?”

Eva didn’t respond. She didn’t have
an answer for that. The sounds of the forest filled the silence between them.

Charlie sighed and came closer.
“Look… all right,” he said, his voice calm. “All right. You’re right, the guy
has clearly been through a lot. And I will even go so far as to say he maybe,
probably thought he was doing the right thing, protecting us. Or protecting
you, is probably more accurate.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He doesn’t look at you like you’re a
stranger, Eva. He looks at you like he’s known you all his life. If I had to
guess, I’d say your feelings are reciprocated.”

Eva blushed and felt her stomach
twist in nervous knots.

“But you have to believe me when I
say that Will’s plan, it wasn’t safe. It was insane.”

Eva looked down in silence at the
grass swaying at her feet, the sweet wildflowers bending and bobbing. She
couldn’t admit that she had been worried about Will’s plan, too. In all
earnestness, she assumed his tactical mind would see it was a bad plan as soon
as he was a few days removed from the victory in the bar. But could she really
blame Charlie for what he had done—for not seeing what she saw in Will?

“What do you think is going to happen
to him?” whispered Eva.

Charlie rubbed a gentle hand up and
down her arm. “I don’t know. But I’m sure he’ll be fine. He’s definitely
capable of taking care of himself.”

~
SEVENTEEN ~

Tension ran up Will’s back and shoulders, all the way
into his head, as he followed Jase and Ghost down the long hallway. On their
separate bikes, he had followed his MC brothers not back to the Black Dogs
clubhouse, but to an abandoned factory in the foothills outside of LeBeau where
they frequently conducted meetings such as these. In fact, they had acquired
the place after finding it when Jase’s now-wife and Henry’s daughter, Maggie,
was kidnapped and held hostage by a rival gang. Will had flashes of the
memories of helping to save her as he was led through the empty main machine
room, past the empty concrete storage rooms, and into a vast open shipping bay.

Dim, dusty sunlight came through the
enormous windows at the top of the room, some of them with glass shattered long
ago and spider webs in their place. Already, men waited for them as they
entered the room. Will could see Henry, his president, waiting with a cold look
on his face. Across from his club, a line of Latino men stood. Two of them wore
fine, tailored suits, their jet-black hair slicked neatly against their heads
and drawn back in tight ponytails. The other three dressed much like the men
who Will had fought at Swashbucklers, in jeans and tactical boots and leather
jackets meant to be intimidating. Will only recognized one of them: Jorge
Ramirez, leader of the cartel himself, in the blue pinstripes. The last time
Will had seen him was when he had offered up the men who murdered Will’s
grandmother.

Will walked up to Henry and realized
he hadn’t seen him in a while. There was something strange about the feeling.
He met Henry’s face with a blank expression, unsure what to expect.

“Can we get this started, at last?”
said Ramirez.

Will looked around at the faces.
“What’s going on?”

Henry sighed and walked to the center
of the line, standing next to Will. Without instruction, Ghost and Jase sidled
to the ends, flanking.

“Seems we have some problems to
attend to,” said Henry.

“Is this the
pendejo
who has
sent mine home, bleeding and broken?” The other man in the suit pointed a fat
finger at Will, snarling. He trailed off in Spanish, something Will couldn’t
translate, but knew wasn’t a compliment.

Will squared his shoulders as
adrenaline began to pump through his veins. “I take it that means you’re the
shit-for-brains who sent your men to get beaten in the first place?”

Henry slapped a huge palm on Will’s
chest and gave him a stone look. He pushed him back to stand a few steps
behind, and Will didn’t argue. Henry turned to the Latino men. “This is a clear
violation of the treaty we drew up, Ramirez. We keep the mountain pass free and
clear, and you keep your men from any operations inside LeBeau or Howlett. That
was the deal. Now I’ve got word of your men pushing in on bar in Howlett? This
is unacceptable.”

“Not just any fucking bar,” said
Will. “The bar built on the ashes of the place you fucked up last time. This
isn’t just political betrayal, this is sacrilege.”

“Betrayal? You are the one who has
started warfare with my men,” said Ramirez. “Not a single firearm brought to
the fights, no one was threatened with death, and yet they come home with
stories that you threatened to shoot them. Is this not also a violation of your
treaty?”

Henry stiffened. “Your men wouldn’t
have been in any goddamn danger if they hadn’t been trying to break the rules
in the first place! You fucking agreed to this, Ramirez—no cartel business in
my goddamn towns. This is
my
corridor, you understand? And you play by
my
rules if you want to get through it smoothly.” He took two steps toward the
cartel leader. “The truce has been violated by your men, first and foremost.
Are you going to do something about it—or do I have to?”

Ramirez narrowed his eyes at Henry. “Be
careful, Black Dog.”

“Go fuck yourself,” said Henry
without fear. “You fix this, or we’ll withdraw the whole treaty right here and
now and see who comes out on top.”

Everyone in the room tensed, eyes
shifting from face to face, waiting for someone to break. Everyone except Ghost—Will
swore he heard him giggle in delight as he unclipped his sidearm in its
holster, readying to pull.

Will stared unblinking and angry at
Ramirez as the man stared at Henry, clearly in thought. For a few moments,
everything was silent and still as Ramirez weighed his options and everyone
else waited to see if his decision would end in chaos and death.

Finally Ramirez seemed to sigh almost
indiscernibly. “I see there is no other solution to this problem. I will be
straightforward with you, Henry. This problem with the bar is a symptom of
something bigger—something I was hoping to have worked out internally before it
affected my allies.”

Henry turned to Will and gave him a
curious look. Will returned it, as in the dark as his leader was.

“Leadership is a very precarious
thing. Even the appearance of weakness can threaten it,” said Ramirez.

“I understand that well,” said Henry
with a nod. “If you’re asking for our discretion, we will provide it—assuming
we come to a satisfactory agreement for this violation.”

Ramirez nodded. “Gentlemen, would you
be so kind as to follow me?” He waved hands at his own men, gesturing them to
lead the way, a show of trust to leave the MC at their backs. Will and his
brothers exchanged glances with each other, making sure everyone was on guard
and paying attention as they followed the cartel carefully through the shipping
bay to the last rolling door at the end of a long line of docks meant for
eighteen wheelers and other big machinery. One of the men in the leather
jackets hoisted up the noisy door, with only a little trouble, from its rusted
hinges.

A black van sat cold and silent just
outside the door. The man in the jacket jumped down off the dock and opened the
rear double-doors of the van before stepping back and out of the way.

Will and the MC shuffled up toward
the door to get a look at the van. Inside, they saw the bodies of five men
stacked in a haphazard pile, wrists tied and eyes blindfolded. When he looked
closely, Will could see one of the bodies still wore a sling and a cast on his
broken arm.

“These are the men responsible for
bringing us here today,” said Ramirez, folding his hands in front of him. “Four
of my lieutenants were talked into the scheme by… unfortunately, by a man who
was once my closest ally. His name was Paulo, and he was attempting to sow the
seeds for my upheaval from power.”

“A coup?” asked Henry.

Ramirez nodded and blinked slowly.
“He was, in fact, the architect of the arson previously in your territory, the
one to which your man referred earlier.” He nodded toward Will. “Paulo
orchestrated the violence that led to our treaty, and he was always resentful
of losing his men and the territory for the act. He never agreed with my
decision to accord with your club. Apparently, his first act to overthrow me
was to rectify that situation and start where he left off.” Ramirez looked down
at the corpses in the van and sighed. “How he was able to talk the others into
it, I don’t know. But it’s over.”

Will’s chest tightened, adrenaline running
through his veins. He stared down at the familiar bodies in the van, knowing
one of them was the man responsible for his grandmother’s death—truly
responsible. And he had almost done it again with Eva. More than that, he saw
in Paulo’s anger and resentment some ghost of his future, where resentment for
his own club led him to do something as drastic as Paulo had—and with as high a
price. Could that have been him in the back of one of the MC’s vans, snuffed
out by Henry, or even Jase, for endangering the club in his prideful quest for
retribution? In more ways than one, Will suddenly felt like he had barely
missed being hit by a freight train.

“You have my word that this will not
become an issue again while I lead,” said Ramirez. “Your pass will remain
untouched, and your men need not worry about having to dole out beatings
anymore. I’m sorry you had reason to doubt your faith in us.”

Henry held his hand out and Ramirez
shook it. “Good. Let’s get back to business as usual, then.”

He stood staring at the van as voices
faded into the quiet around him. Suddenly men were closing the doors, hopping
inside, and starting up the vehicle. Jase’s hand landed on his shoulder.

Jase looked down at Will, and worry
crossed his face. “You all right? You look pale.”

Will looked back at the closed doors
of the van as the brake lights blazed red, tailpipe belching. He felt
lightheaded. “Yeah, just…” He backed up, unsteady, until his back hit the cold,
hard concrete of the docking bay wall. He slid down to the floor. “Just give me
a minute.”

Jase knelt down next to him and said
nothing. From back in the bay, Ghost wandered over with a curious look on his
face.

“You need some water?”

Will shook his head. His stomach
roiled and his pulse beat in his head like a muffled drum. It was like some
floodgate inside him had broken open and spilled inside his brain as soon as he
heard Ramirez’s words, as soon as he comprehended the sight he was seeing in
the back of the van. Had some deep part of Will’s lizard brain understood all
this time that someone hadn’t paid for the death of his grandmother? Had he
known, somehow, Paulo was out there? Because at this moment, he felt the relief
he had expected to feel when he shot the arsonists two years ago in this very
warehouse. Relief hadn’t come then, but it arrived now so forcefully that Will
felt like he was being yanked up and out of a nightmare.

In his mind’s eye, he saw Eva; sweet,
beautiful Eva in her delicate dresses, smiling up at him, kissing his skin,
writhing underneath him. A horrifying realization washed over him. If he hadn’t
been so distraught in his grief—if he hadn’t been unsettled—he might never have
started going to Swashbuckler’s. He would have never met Eva, and he wouldn’t
have been able to protect her from the cartel. He knew deep in his gut that
both she and Charlie would be ash and bone right now, if not for the crushing
grief that drove Will to visit the site of his deepest pain.

His mind felt stuffed, ready to
break. He looked up and saw Jase searching his face with curious eyes.

“What’s up?” asked Jase.

Will shook his head as if to say he
didn’t know. He took a few breaths and tried to find the words. “I just… I’m
overwhelmed.”

Jase nodded. “Understandable.”

“Call me crazy,” said Ghost, walking
closer, “but you look like a completely different man right now, Will.”

“You’re crazy,” said Will half-heartedly.

Ghost chuckled. “I’m serious. Look at
his eyes, Jase.” He pointed. “You’re telling me that’s the same guy that was
pushing you around the bar an hour ago?”

Jase did as Ghost asked and turned to
look Will in the eyes. Will expected it to make him uncomfortable, as it
consistently had the last six months, but he didn’t feel that way now. It was
like Jase looked different, too.

Jase stared a moment, then furrowed
his brow. “Huh. That’s… that’s fucking creepy.”

Will actually laughed. He laughed
without thinking about it, or without stopping it. “You’re both crazy.”

“Something’s gone from your eyes,
that’s for sure,” said Jase. “I don’t know how else to explain it.”

“Whatever it is, I hope it means I
can sleep now,” said Will. He looked over at Jase. “I’m sorry man. I really
don’t know what…”

Jase gave him a flat grin and clapped
a hand on his shoulder, shaking him in a friendly way. “Hey, I’d really just
like to get the fuck past it, if it’s okay with you. I’m really tired of
chasing asshole Will around.”

Will gave him a self-effacing laugh.
“Lucky to have you, brother.”

“Same,” said Jase.

Will saw Henry shuffling up. He moved
to climb to his feet, but found his limbs were still a little shaky. Jase gave
him a hearty yank until he stood straight.