Page 33

Story: Daughters of Chaos

33

Phoenix

H e's almost unrecognizable through the blood and gore marring his face, gasping for breath, groaning as Jesse and Reaper hold him between them.

“Martin,” I choke, “who did this to you?”

He wheezes out his reply as the guys slide him onto a chair in the kitchen. Bones is already on the phone with Dad and Bear, filling them in on what happened. “Kat was supposed to go to rehab today.”

A sharp intake of breath sounds as he tries to gulp down air. “She dipped. Avoided calls from me and her mom. I ended up finding her at her friend’s place.”

He shakes his head, wincing from the movement. “We got into it when I asked her to leave with me. Ah—” His hand slides to a nasty cut on his temple as he continues, “She freaked out, and her friends jumped me. Four of them, big fuckers, wearing leather vests.”

He looks at the men surrounding him, adding, “Kind of like the ones you guys have on.”

Everyone tenses, and Reaper and Mason share a hard look, their faces scowling at the new information. Martin studies Bones and Mason through squinted eyes. “Hey, don’t I know you two from somewhere?”

The guys don’t answer him. “Did you see anything on the back of their vests?” Jesse interrupts. “Writing or a symbol? Anything?”

Martin squints like he's trying to remember, swallowing hard before replying. “I don’t remember everything, but I think the name on the back said something about bastards. The demon bastards, maybe.”

My heart drops, and I hear Raven suck in a sharp breath. The men all go rigid. The Desert Bastards, it has to be them. Mason voices what we're all thinking, the damning confirmation that shatters any hope of a peaceful existence.

Martin nods. “Yeah. Yeah, Desert Bastards, that was it. You guys know them?”

Raven is by my side, clutching my hand like a vice, looking like she wants to tear the world to shreds. They made their move. Brought the fight right to our doorstep. We're no longer safe.

And the war has officially begun.

As soon as word reaches my dad and Bear that the Bastards have made a move, the house is swarming with men. In no time, our quiet little neighborhood is packed with bikes and riders, looking like they're itching for a fight.

They bring Doc to patch up Martin before moving him to the hospital with an escort. At least there, he’ll be safe. Viper and the others get what information they can from Martin before he leaves. It isn't much, but it's all the confirmation they need to verify the Bastards are just getting started.

To add insult to injury, Jesse and Reaper admitted to finding a note pinned to Martin when they found him. What was written made my stomach curdle, and I felt a fear I’ve never felt in my life at the promise—the threat—that was scrawled on the paper:

The Prez’s girls are next.

Every burly man in the room turned pale when that note was read. Raven and I were next if the note held any truth. After seeing what they did to Martin, I wasn't sure I wanted to know what the Bastards had planned for me and my sister.

Raven is livid, itching for a fight, especially when Dad tells us to pack a bag. He isn’t having us stay in our house with an active threat on our heads. It's too dangerous, even with the guys standing guard. I don’t know what makes her more angry, the threat against us or the loss of freedom that comes with it. Either way, I know things are going to get rough for us for a while. Not just us, the club, the guys, my guy.

I hate it. Hate Dom and his stupid crew. Hate the loss of security I had not hours ago. I hate it all.

And what's worse, I didn’t see any of this coming. I never had any inkling that Kat was tied to the Bastards. This whole time, she could have been using me to get information for them. I thought she was my friend.

Did she know who Mason and the others were all along? Is this all just some fucked up coincidence?

Someone elbows my side. When I look up, I find my sister watching me. She shakes her head. “Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“I know what you’re thinking. And you need to stop right now. None of this is your fault,” she says sternly.

When I start to object, she cuts me off, holding a hand up and leveling me with a sharp stare. “Stop, Phoenix. Whatever Dom and his guys did, whoever he coerced into helping them, not a damn thing is your fault.”

I feel my lip wobble as I squeeze her hand. She pulls me close, hugging me tightly against her. “We’ll make those fuckers pay. For all of it.”

I know she doesn’t just mean Martin or Kat. They’d make Dom and the Bastards regret everything. Tweak, the attack at the bar, the warehouse. The Sons will put an end to this war one way or another.

What they’ll do next, how they’ll make their statement, I have no clue. But judging by the looks on everyone’s faces, whatever they have planned is brutal. They're out for blood.