Page 41 of Beautifully Shattered (Secrets & Scars #3)

T he vans turn right ahead, and we follow in my Landy, while the rest of my MC, on their hogs, hang back, not wanting the rumble of our motorcycle pack to alert the Satan’s Rebels of our approach.

My gaze meets the fury still burning in Abbey’s eyes in the rearview mirror, and I shoot her a wink, earning me an eye roll for my trouble.

I could’ve left her with my ma and sisters, safely locked away with thirty Marx security guards watching over her. And maybe I should have. But, as much as I don’t like the idea of her being put in harm’s way, I can’t deny her need to be involved.

She blames herself for the lives lost. For Darla and Nessy getting taken. She wants to help. She wants blood. So, I’ll just have to work harder to make sure no one touches what’s mine.

“Riggs to Sarg.”

The crackle of the radio breaks the silence inside the car, and JD picks up the receiver.

“Speak,” JD grunts, making his voice deeper, trying to impersonate me.

I glance sideways at him to see his fucking beaming smile, and I shake my head.

“I don’t sound like that.”

My Angel snorts in the back seat, and when our eyes lock in the mirror, she’s smirking.

“We have confirmation from Moore. The gate is unlocked. The guards are out cold. We’re a go.”

“Roger that. Let’s move,” JD grunts deeply again, and this time, I can’t help but chuckle.

“It’s uncanny how much you sound like him,” Jols snickers.

“Nah. It’s not whiny enough,” my wife fires back, shooting me a wink this time in the mirror.

“Yeah, I agree. I’ll try to make it a little more nasally next time,” JD says in all seriousness.

“You three fucking done?” I snap, trying to keep my focus on the road as the vans up ahead start to slow. “JD, text Smitty. Let him know we are about to breach.”

They all fall quiet then, their attention shifting to what’s about to happen.

“Remember, once we’re through the gates, you two stay the fuck down until I tell you to move. You both listen to me or JD, and don’t go fucking rogue.”

“Got it,” Jols agrees, and when Abbey doesn’t answer, my eyes meet hers in the mirror again, and she fucking salutes me.

Jesus. I think we’ve created a monster .

“All teams alert!” Riggs’ voice crackles through the radio again. “We’re breaching in three, two, one!”

Dust kicks up from the vans in front of us as they hit the gas, and when I glance back in the rearview, Jols and Abbey are hidden from sight, giving me a clear view of the other vehicles in our convoy tailing us.

We’re out in the sticks, north of Diamond Creek, and with the lockdown, the quiet roads make everything feel like a fucking ghost town. But that works well for us.

No witnesses.

I white-knuckle the steering wheel as my Landy rumbles over the cattle grate at the driveway entrance, the car bouncing us around as we speed up the pothole-riddled dirt road.

“Hold on to your tits!” JD yells from next to me, clutching the hand grip for dear life as we’re tossed around from the fucking shit conditions of the driveway.

“Engage!” Riggs roars through the radio, and the next second, I hear gunfire erupt up ahead.

That word means two things.

It’s time to shoot shit, and time for the pack of hogs to join us.

The old farm property is littered with rusty car wrecks, scrap metal, and all kinds of junk.

Three of the vans ahead veer off to the right, towards the old shed Moore confirmed is the clubhouse, while we follow behind Riggs and two more Marx SUVs, taking the road that snakes around to the back of the property where a house sits, junk lining the fence along a vacant paddock and dam.

“Cars two and three, secure the house,” Riggs barks through the radio, and I have to slam on the brakes as the vans veer sharply left towards the old, weathered farmhouse, where several Rebels are already spilling out.

“Stay down!” I yell right as bullets start pelting the car from the house.

A squeal comes from the back seat, and I know it’s my Angel, and fuck, she’d better be alright or I’m gonna go fucking apeshit.

Planting my foot on the accelerator again, I steer us away, following Riggs and another car around the back where Moore said Darla and Nessy were being held.

“Bus up ahead,” Riggs informs, and I spot it past the cars. The old school bus Moore said would be there.

The red flash of taillights has me slamming on the brakes, just before Marx security pour out of their cars, guns raised and shooting.

“Stay down!” I bark, slamming the car into park and gripping my gun.

JD and I lock eyes, and the second I nod, we’re both out the doors, guns raised, firing at anything wearing a Rebels’ cut.

Most of the Rebels are fighting on the other side of the clubhouse, but a few have slipped out here, heading for the same place as us.

The old school bus.

With the Marx team backing us up, I barely need to squeeze off a shot, and it’s only a matter of minutes before the coast is clear.

“Angel!” I shout, fucking stunned she’s not already right behind me.

Jols and Abbey scramble out of the Landy, guns up, eyes scanning for any remaining threats .

“Now you follow instructions,” I growl, and even though she looks like some sort of dark golden angel with her blonde messy hair and those fucking sexy, smoky eyes, when she moves up to my side and glances up, I see the vulnerability flickering in her gaze.

My little submissive is still in there.

And then, she ruins my little wet daydream by fucking speaking.

“Yes, Sarg.”

Jesus fucking Christ, the way the corner of her pink lips kick up, her doe eyes peeking up at me through the fan of her dark lashes, paired with those two words, has my cock fucking springing to life like the traitor it is.

“Every day, I like that chick more and more,” JD snickers, ignoring the deadly glare I throw his way.

Shaking off my sassy wife’s words, I refocus on the old bus, my gun raised as I creep closer.

JD flanks me, while our women follow behind, and we only make it a few steps before the back door to the clubhouse bursts open with a bang, and three bodies spill out.

Spinning, we swing our guns towards the movement, my finger about to squeeze the fucking trigger when I realise it’s friend, not fucking foe.

“The fuck, Brody!” JD snarls before I can even open my mouth. “We nearly fucking shot you!”

“Have you found her?” Brody blurts, his eyes darting frantically over our shoulders to the school bus.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I snap, glaring at Brody, Vender and Mex. “You’re meant to be securing the clubhouse! ”

“Is she in there?” Vender demands, stepping forward and ignoring my fucking question.

“Who, Darla?” JD asks, knowing Darla is a crowd favourite.

“Well, yeah. But no,” Mex chimes in. “We mean Nessy. Is she in there?”

Nessy?

The fuck is going on?

“Nessy!” Mex calls, trying to shove past JD, but JD blocks him with a hard shove.

“Why the fuck are we standing around? Nessy needs us!” Vender barks, lunging past me this time, and I fucking let him, confused as fuck as he starts for the bus.

He’s only made it a few steps when the bus doors spring open, and all I see is my Angel with her back to the bus, confusion etched across her pretty face as she watches three of my club brothers storm forward.

She has no clue a fucking Rebel is stepping out of the bus with his gun raised.

I swear my heart fucking stops when that barrel starts to level at her, but then, three loud pops ring out, and Brody, Vender, and Mex drop the Rebel with shots to the chest before he can even blink.

Abbey gasps, spinning to face the threat she didn’t even know was there, and we watch, stunned, as Mex drags the dead Rebel off the steps while Vender charges on board, gun ready for the next motherfucker.

“Good to see your men know how to follow orders.” Riggs chuckles beside me, and fuck, I can’t even be mad right now, because I’m just too fucking confused.

My three men disappear on the bus, so JD and I follow, stepping over the dead Rebel discarded on the gravel, climbing the steps to find my three club brothers fawning over Nessy.

“Well, I didn’t see this coming,” JD mutters over my shoulder, and all I can do is grunt, watching Darla roll her eyes.

“Oh sure, don’t worry about me,” she snaps, still sounding strong despite how beat up she is.

Fuck. I don’t want to think about the torture they’ve suffered through.

A rough shove sends me staggering as Jols pushes past with Abbey on her heels. They head straight for Darla, untying her while three grown men act like they’re Nessy’s dad… or big brothers… or… lovers?

No, that can’t be right. Sweet little Nessy looks fucking terrified right now. She’s a meek little thing. The greenest of our Doxies, still learning the ropes. Still getting used to public sex displays and group orgies.

Nessy is trembling so hard I worry she’s about to have a seizure, reminding me of the night I stole my Angel away from her parents.

Fuck, that feels like a lifetime ago now.

Vender cups Nessy’s face with a level of gentleness I never imagined him capable of, and his touch and whatever quiet words he’s whispering works to snap her out of her panic, her shoulders relaxing as she climbs into his arms.

That, I get.

She needs security. And we fucking take care of our Doxies. But when Brody and Mex step in for a group hug, I’m left even more fucking confused.

“The fuck is going on? ”

“I’d say these three have done their nuts over our sweet little Nessy,” Jols says as she and Abbey help Darla limp towards us, “and decided to share her… maybe?”

“For now,” JD mutters, reaching out to take Darla from Abbey. “That’s gonna end fucking badly. Three of them can’t claim her.”

“It didn’t end badly for Rhys,” Abbey points out, watching JD and Jols lead Darla towards the steps. “She has five men to keep her happy. Seems to work for some people.”

“She’s not in a fucking MC,” JD chuckles, while my eyes narrow on my Angel as she glances back at the love triangle… or is it a love quad? Fucked if I know.

“You need more than me, Angel?” I ask because, yeah, apparently I’m fucking insecure about that shit.

Her brows arch as she looks back at me, shaking her head with a frown.

“Hell, no. You’re all the man I need.”

Fuck. I let out a breath I didn’t fucking realise I was holding on to.

“Naww, this is such a beautiful moment,” JD coos, and I fucking glare at my best mate, pointing to the open door.

“Fuck off. Let’s get the girls outta here.”

JD and Jols laugh at my expense as they help Darla off the bus, and I lead Abbey down, giving my three club brothers a fucking moment before they finally carry Nessy out.

As Nessy and Darla get loaded into one of the Marx SUVs, my Angel moves to my side, a frown creasing her brow.

“You wondering how Nessy is going to handle those three guys?” I chuckle, but she shakes her head, her big doe eyes flicking up to mine.

“I don’t understand why they are here,” she says, gesturing subtly towards Riggs. “This is a club thing, not a me thing.”

“You’re here in a dangerous situation, so they are here.” I shrug.

“So they are like my bodyguards? Even for club business?”

“Yes.” I nod, watching her frown twist into anger.

“Ringo, we need to talk about this arrangement. I know you said it’s not a financial cost, but the cost to you has to be huge. I don’t want to think about what you’ll owe them after this is over,” she snaps, jutting her thumb towards Riggs. “Tell them to stand down. Now.”

“Nope,” I mutter, starting towards the Landy.

“But—”

“No, Angel,” I cut her off, yanking open the car door for her. “It’s not up for negotiation.”

“But—”

“Look, now’s not the time for this conversation,” I snap, turning to reach for my door.

In my periphery, sudden movement bursts from the bushes, and I’m reaching for my gun again. By the time my eyes lock onto the Rebel, his gun aimed at me, it’s too late… the loud crack is deafening as the gun explodes with a flash.