Page 113 of His Flawed Ride

Shots ring out in the early morning hour as the sun begins to rise. Hog fuckers start to come over the wall. But it’s the fuckers lining the gate with their guns aimed at us that I focus on.

“Everyone back!”

As I look around, brothers are falling and our shots run dry. “Mason, with me!”

He runs across the lot and follows me around Shane’s truck and into the bar.

“Did you see Myles?” he asks as I run for the basement.

“No.”

“Fuck.”

Opening the fake wall, I grab at the ammunition and stuff my pockets and grab two of the guns. Mason does the same and then we’re on our way up to the roof.

Keeping low, we position ourselves at the east corner and load the guns. Mason stares out over the lot.

“Head in the game, Mase. We’ll get to Myles once we get rid of these assholes.”

Together we let off shot after shot, trying to aim for them all but one by one.

“You stay here, I’m gonna go check none of them are trying to get in round the back.”

Taking my weapons with me, I cross the roof and now it’s grown much lighter, I have a clear view of the houses, and the wall encasing them. I fucking knew it. Two Hogs jump down from the top of the wall, and one pulls out his phone. I set up fast but precisely and let off two shots promptly. They drop to the ground, and I look out for more.

Shots are replaced by engines and when I run across back to Mason, the Hogs are fleeing.

“Did you see who got hit?” I ask as we make our way down from the roof.

His silence has my stomach tightening and we step outside to the smell of gunfire and blood lingering around us.

“I shot down two fuckers around the back, near Shane’s house. They’re gonna have to be moved.”

“Let me find Myles and we’ll get on it.”

I notice dad standing smoking a cigarette. I nearly sweep my gaze away from him but snap back. Dad hasn’t smoked in years now. He wouldn’t. My gut tightens even more.

My eyes drop to what he’s staring down at and somehow, I force my feet to move.

I concentrate on counting how many steps it takes. Thirty-two. Dad inhales deeply on his smoke and on closer glance I see him holding a pack of cigarettes. I take it from him and light my own, keeping my eyes away from the ground.

“He saved my life years ago, you know. Saved you and your mom.”

I take a drag on my smoke and look down at Dex. Four bullet holes pepper his chest. His cut drenched in his blood. I cut my eyes to the body beside him and recognise the prospect. Burn marks have charred his clothes and his skin is blistered.

The two other brothers are ones I can’t bear to look at. Once I do, I can’t tell myself that they’re not off somewhere, still alive.

“I can’t look at him either,” Dad croaks.

I meet my father’s eye and for long seconds we do nothing but stare at one another.

“No,” Sparky murmurs coming toward us. “Not Slade. No. Fuck!”

I look away from dad and Slade is riddled with bullet holes. He didn’t stand a chance. Zachery runs over and drops to his knees. I can’t bear to watch the realisation that he’s lost his dad and look to the last body.

The most unfair of them all, not that any of them should be dead. Pain shoots across my chest and takes my breath away. His son is only a week old and now he has no one.

Shane.

My brother and the guy who loved the club like true family and loved reaping the benefits of wearing the patch.

I crouch down and place his hands on his stomach.

Anger begins to build. As I stare at the lifeless bodies, my mind runs away with itself.

All twelve targets had to have known we were coming. We were hit minutes after our attacks.

The only way they would’ve known is if they were told. I rise to my feet. Who knows who else we have lost tonight.

But one certainty is… we have a traitor in the club.