Page 9

Chapter Six

Matteo

THREE YEARS AGO

THREE YEARS AGO

The guys smirk as we hop off our bikes and get the van parked for transfer.

Bloodshed is part of the promise with Blood Reapers, and nine times out of ten, we end up in gun draws.

My veins run cold as I look around at the eight of us, all silently assessing the openness of this drop sight.

It’s too plain and too insecure for it to be a usual dropping location.

When Globe had informed us of the coordinates, none of us were any the wiser until it led us to an open field.

The terrain is flat with no hills or trees to find cover in the event that the inevitable happens.

Fuck, we are part of the one-percenters. We don’t sit and twiddle our thumbs. We make shit happen, even if it’s the last thing we do. The oath I gave and the blood I shed to be part of this club has made my stance that much more powerful. I refuse to be the downfall of this transfer.

At six feet, three inches, I wouldn’t say I’m a foreboding presence. Quite frankly, I match several of these other men in height except for one.

Nero.

Fucker is massive. If I remember correctly, one of the other guys said he was six-foot-seven. Standing a head taller than everyone else, with his cold and calculated stare into the world, he has me on edge.

Most people believe you have to have a shitty life to resort to joining an MC.

That’s not the case for me. Before joining this club, I worked with my parents at their family restaurant.

As their second son, I wasn’t set to inherit the businesses, and honestly, that was something I was perfectly okay with.

Nothing in this life had been called to me before the MC, so when the opportunity presented itself to join, I took it.

Since joining, I realize that I’m still not finding my niche.

I’m alright at everything here: shooting, fighting, tech, paperwork.

Anything I do, I can complete, but I’m not at the top of any lists.

Again, it’s something I am perfectly happy with because at least I’m part of something that accepts me for my mediocrity.

If Ma and Pa could see where I am today, I know they would be happy that I’m content…

as long as we leave out that I’m part of an underground ring to end sex trafficking.

Which usually ends in bloodshed and lighting their corpses on fire. Honestly, it’s fine!

The rumbling sound of motorcycles in the distance has all of us standing straighter.

Meeting with buyers is never easy, usually because they bitch about basic specifications, which results in us all getting into a standoff.

It’s redundant to me, but it’s necessary.

They have to see that we aren’t going to let them fuck us off.

As they get closer, the feeling of shit not being right just heightens. Something is wrong, but by the time any of us realize it, we are shit out of luck.

Over twenty bikes roll into the expansive lot, their helmets covering their faces. Terror washes over us as we realize this isn’t a trade. This is a setup.

“Fuck, get out of here!” Grizzly growls, hauling ass to his bike with the rest of us.

He pulls his weapon from the waistband of his jeans and fires, sending one guy flying.

Before Grizz can even get his leg over the machine, his body jerks as a muted shot rings through the night air.

He drops carelessly, and all hell breaks loose.

The van speeds away with the firearms in tow, but the whizzing of bullets cascades past us.

Grabbing my pistol, I open fire as I book it to my bike.

We all barely make it to our rides, yet none of us stop fighting back.

Men from both sides drop, none of us able to even stave off the rapid incoming of bullets.

Pain radiates down my arm as I ride hard and fast out of there, five out of eight of us barely making it out.

Shots ring into the night as we spend the next hour on the highway letting the adrenaline roll through our bodies.

Fuzzy and heavy, my head barely stays upright as we finally roll into the clubhouse.

Men are shouting as they storm out, most likely already having heard the debacle that went down.

Grizz was dead upon impact, but I have no idea about the other three.

As a patch with wet colors, I don’t know the proper protocol.

Honestly, I was sent along to be a bullet catcher.

I should have fucking said something. I knew shit wasn’t right, and yet I kept it to myself. For what? Just for the rest of the club to also be bullet catchers. None of us deserved that bullshit, even so, I fucking neglected our club. I’m the reason we are in this fucking mess of blood and limbs.

“Fuck, we got a bleeder,” a watery voice shouts from next to me.

It’s a female. Looking up, deep gray eyes that appear onyx in the night stare down at me.

Her face is blurry at best, the features barely registering in my brain as she shouts orders to those around her.

I’m not sure how much time passes, but as my eyes sag closed, she smacks my face to ensure I don’t.

“Just let me go,” I slur, my eyes crossing and then creating two images of the swoony female. She shakes her head, an unsurprised snort leaving her.

“That’s not how this works, tough guy…” Her voice trails off as she keeps talking, the words mushing together in my brain like she was swept away in a fast-running river.

Male voices disrupt the sweet melodic voice that begs me to stay, begs me to open my eyes and remain here.

I do my best to answer her, to let her know that I’m the reason we are all in this mess, let her know that if anyone deserves to die, it’s me.

She doesn’t listen to what I say though, because both versions of the woman’s lips are moving.

I don’t know what’s happening or who that is, but if she’s what I expect when I get to heaven or hell, might as well take me now.

Do I want it to even take me? Looking at the female I have never seen before, I do my best to follow her orders to remain awake.

I don’t want her last vision of me to be one where I bleed out while she begs me to stay.

Can’t go traumatizing this beauty. She’s beautiful in a girl-next-door kind of way.

Soft features, a warmth that fills her eyes with an edge of pain. Something I can relate immensely to.

“Fuck!” I roar as someone tries to move my arm. Weirdly, it almost feels detached from my body, but at the same time, every single nerve is on fire in my body. That single dose of reality has my body shutting down completely.