Page 61

Rachel

All hell broke loose as gunfire rained down upon us. Men came flying out of their houses, their guns loaded, ready to defend the club.

Vienna grabbed hold of me, shielding my body with his own and shoved me to the back of the burnt down clubhouse, pushing me down to the floor.

“Can you shoot?” He barked at me.

“I—No. But how fucking difficult can it be?”

“That’s the spirit,” he gave me a sad smile before pulling out a handgun from his jacket and shoved it into my hands.

Gun fire rang out, making him crouch next to me, the pair of us flinching at the yells and screams. “Listen to me and listen carefully for the love of fucking God. You are not going to shoot your way out of here, do you hear me? The gun is for protection, as a last resort. You get out of here. No matter what you see, what you hear, you get the fuck out. You shoot anyone in your way, and that’s the end of it.

You aim for the fucking head. You go to the Greasy Spoon, and you don’t move a fucking muscle until one of us comes and collects you. ”

“What about Bee?”

“Bee is fine. We have trained for this. She will be better prepared than you are. She knows exactly where to go. Every old lady here will be ensuring she gets out of here.”

“I can’t leave until I know she’s safe. Don’t even try to convince me!”

“Fuck!” he hissed, pulling out his phone.

“Dante?” He said the minute it was answered.

“Yeah. I’ve got her. She’s going to make her way to Greasy.

No, she’s fine. Where’s Bee?… Stay safe, Brother.

” He put the phone back in his pocket. “Bee is wi th Jenna. The pair of them are already in a car out of here. She’s fine. Now please, get out of here.”

“I’m going! Keep him safe, Vienna. Please. And don’t fucking die.” I pleaded, tears springing to my eyes.

“President down! President down!” Came the screams from in front of us.

“Shit!” Vienna hissed. “Go!” He shoved me, knocking me onto my knees, and was gone a second later, his gun already firing at one of the Rough Riders.

I kept down low, crouching around the edge of the burnt-down house, using the crumbled walls to keep me hidden from the line of vision. Every time I poked my head out to make sure it was safe, I scanned the grounds, looking for Dante, needing to know he was okay.

I saw Crash on the floor, blood seeping from the wound in his chest. Shark was crouched over him, dragging him to the nearest building for a slight bit of safety, but he was struggling, only able to use one of his arms as his other fired at any of the men that came close.

He dropped Crash and rolled to the side, just as a bullet shattered through the wood of the door behind him.

Fuck this!

I couldn’t leave. These men were my family, and I’d be damned if I made my way to safety and left them to fend for themselves!

I scanned my surroundings, noticing a pile of wooden planks the builders had left behind, and ran to them, pressing my back against them as I cocked my gun.

I twisted onto my knees and looked over, noticing one of the Riders running near me.

I fired a shot, hoping for the best, and heard a scream as the Rider fell to the floor, clutching his leg.

I hurried over to him and grabbed the gun he had dropped, tucking it into the waistline of my jeans, and kicked him as hard as I could in the face, knocking him out.

“What the fuck are you doing!” Came the deep, pissed off yell from Dante as he pulled his knife out of the neck of another Rider and came over to me, wiping it on his jeans.

He seemed oblivious to the chaos taking place as he zoned in on me, seizing me by my shoulders, and hauled me around to the back of the clubhouse once more .

“I can do this, Dante! Don’t fucking focus on me! We need all the help we can get.”

“It’s not fucking safe here! You understand you could fucking die, right?”

“Well then, I will go down defending my family! I’m not running like a coward, not anymore!”

“I can’t lose you, Rachel!”

“And you won’t! Go! Defend our home!”

His eyes scanned my face for a second before he seized my shoulders again and kissed me. A kiss that said so much.

Stay safe.

Come back to me.

Don’t get hurt.

I need you.

He pushed me slightly away and pressed his forehead against mine.

“Be safe, Rachel. For the love of God, be fucking safe,” he whispered.

“I will. Go.”

I pulled away and ran into the crowd, racing behind the nearest tree.

I slapped a hand over my mouth as a bullet shattered the bark, scurrying over to the next tree, and ducked down low.

It was madness.

Men were dropping like flies, the screams, the sounds, the smell of gunfire and blood. Some of the Riders were still on their bikes, racing through the club grounds, shooting anyone they came near.

And that’s when an idea came to mind.

I went back to the Rider I had kicked, and pulled him to the bushes, ridding him of his leather jacket and put it on. I grabbed one of the abandoned helmets off the floor and made a beeline for the bikes.

I was probably committing the ultimate club sin wearing another club’s patch, but right now, I couldn’t give a fuck.

I flung my leg over one of the bikes, kick-starting it, and drove it into the chaos, shooting at any man I didn’t recognise.

Men dove out of my way, and more bullets were shot in my direction, but I forced the fear down, unable to give into it, because if I did, I would never survive this .

I shot at a man approaching from the sidelines, sending him flying backwards, his t-shirt immediately becoming crimson around his stomach.

I dodged a body on the floor, twisting the bike as I recognised it as Shawn.

Jesus fucking Christ!

I fired off a few more shots, some hitting my targets, some not, and that’s when a bullet hit my bike, knocking me off balance. I went flying forward, crashing into the bushes.

I landed on the floor in a painful heap, the bike wheels still spinning at the side of me.

My palms were sliced open, my head taking a beating as it smashed off the ground.

Luckily, I was protected by the helmet, but that didn’t stop it from hurting like a bitch.

I pulled the thing off and threw it to the floor, cringing at the damage it had sustained.

“Rachel,” came the pained gasps of Hacksaw. I spun around, noticing him clutching his arm.

“You’re hurt?” I gasped, crawling over to him.

“Just my arm. What are you doing here?”

“I’m protecting my family! What happened?” I asked, shrugging off the leather jacket and pressing it against his wound.

He shoved my shoulders, sending me back onto my ass and threw the jacket away as though it was literal shit.

“Never do that again,” he snarled at me, spitting on the jacket.

“Sorry,” I cringed. “I forgot whose jacket it was. I was—”

“Shit. I’m sorry, Rachel. I know what you were trying to do… Trent went down,” he gasped after a moment’s pause, his jaw clenching at the pain.

“Dead?” I asked, my stomach bottoming out with dread.

“No. But he’s not in a good way. I got him out of the worst of it and hid him under the bar. That’s when this happened,” he said, lifting the shoulder of his wounded arm.

“And Crash?”

“I don’t know yet. Mama killed the guy who shot him, but I didn’t see any more after that.”

“Stay here,” I pushed him backwards. “There’s no point you getting hurt any further. There can’t be many more left. I’ll come back. ”

“No, Rachel. We don’t sit and hide. I’m going back out there. I’ll meet you at Greasy… and if I don’t, well… It was a pleasure. Look after Chris for me.”

“Chris?” I questioned. Why would he single out Chris when the entire club was…

Oh.

Well, that explained why neither of them had old ladies.

Hacksaw gave me a lopsided grin when he saw the penny drop, before pushing to his feet and rushing back into the mess.

I followed suit, staying ducked down low as I discarded my gun and pulled the other one out of my trousers.

And that’s when I saw Vienna crouched behind a rock, aiming at one of the Riders.

But whilst he was so focused on the Rider in front of him, he didn’t see the one coming at his back.

Without a single ounce of regard for my own safety, I ran over to them, firing rapidly, my heart beating out of my chest. Vienna spun his head to the side, noticing me running over, and figured out what was happening.

He spun around, his leg shooting out at the exact same time, kicking the gun out of the hands of the Rider.

Thank God!

I sank to my knees, the relief flooding through my body knocking me sick. The adrenaline coursed through me, bringing with it the shakes and nausea.

“Get up , Rachel!” I hissed at myself.

“Yes, Rachel,” came a feminine voice from behind me as the gun cocked against my temple. “Get up.”