Knight (18 page)

I stilled as Thorne approached, gun outstretched. The cold metal tapped against my skull. His eyes burned with pure shadow.

“Hello, Knight.” The gun cocked. “Welcome back to Anathema.”

The doors crashed open. Men shouted. Bikes silenced.

Anathema left for war but didn’t need to travel far. The battle came to their doorstep.

I managed three hours sleep before the police scanner screamed with alerts about crashes and shootings—a busted motel and a dead motorcyclist on the bridge.

Thorne lost his shit. He broke two tables and every bottle of whiskey before Gold and Keep tossed his ass in a chair. I worried he’d come after me. Rose’s kidnapping wasn’t my fault, but Thorne only believed me once they dragged Luke through Pixie’s doors, gun to his head and arms behind his back.

Rose darted in after him.

Bleeding.

We were fucked.

“Three of Temple’s bikers are out searching for me now.” Luke braved a punch to the gut to speak. Keep aimed high, mercifully, choosing to punish his breath and not his goods. “I brought her here…but they won’t stop looking for me…”

“You want us to let you go, motherfucker?” Keep aimed another punch. “You better sweet-talk better than that. We ain’t letting you go just ‘cause you returned what you fucking stole.”

Rose bolted to the bar, bundling cocktail napkins over the cut on her arm. “Keep! Stop it! He’s telling the truth—”

“Shut your goddamned mouth, Rose, ain’t got nothing to do with you.”

“
Keep
!”

I pulled her away before Keep turned on her. It wasn’t her brother talking. Whatever shit he injected in his veins took over, and it had less patience than the Darnell usually possessed.

Luke jerked away from Gold’s grasp. It wasn’t a victory.

Thorne’s gun aimed square for the perfect crease in his chin. He shoved Luke against the wall.

This was how he was going to die.

Bloody.

Vengeful.

Neither club ever gave a damn beyond sheer gut-reaction. It was just the sort of idiocy that splattered brains instead of resolving problems. Some crisis chased Luke from his hotel room, and he risked the only bait he had to protect himself from Anathema.

He also lost the only bargaining chip he had to forge a plan with Anathema against the real enemy.

Luke was a villain, but even he sacrificed himself to protect Rose. That made him more of a man than the monsters who raced the streets and threatened an innocent woman just to kill their target.

Rose knew it too. She wrestled from my grip.

“Thorne, stop! He saved my life.”

Thorne was beyond reason. “Go upstairs.”

“Listen to me!”

“
Upstairs
.”

It wasn’t a proper Anathema disaster unless Rose jigsaw-puzzled her way into a domestic dispute. Too many guns pointed from men who got too little sleep. They lacked civility even when rested, sane, and sober. Who knew what they popped to get them through the night while they prepared for war.

Luke hadn’t surrendered, but he didn’t fight. If he wanted to die a martyr, he was one bullet shy of earning a halo.

“Lyn.” Luke didn’t look at me. “Take Rose upstairs.”

Hell no. If Thorne planned to blast through his skull, I’d be there. It wasn’t a sight I wanted to see, but I knew from the beginning how this would end. From the first shot to the last, Luke was the cause of every adrenaline-fueled catastrophe that plagued the club.

I prepared myself for his funeral every goddamned day.

I imagined it.

I dreaded it.

I hated him for it.

And I blamed him. I couldn’t face the reaper when he stole the one man who tempted, threatened, and teased me with words no one ever whispered to me without a bundle of dollar bills in their hands.

This was his fault.

But I wasn’t letting him die for it.

“Stop it.” My voice carried some authority, but the men weren’t looking for a dance, and I wasn’t strutting around Sorceress. Tits only got me so much respect. The rest I had to earn. “Are you that fucking stupid, Thorne?”

Insulting the president wasn’t the best course of action, but it stilled a few of the tempers. Thorne offered me only a sidelong glance.

“Go ahead,” I said. “Kill him. Then what happens? How much blood can he answer for? If you murder him, every psychopath he stuffed into The Coup is going to unleash on Pixie. I’m thinking you don’t want to face them and Temple at the same time.”

“This isn’t your fight, Lyn,” Luke warned.

Thorne wasn’t as kind. “Better start shaking your ass, or you’re fucking next.”

“
Me
?”

“You let this happen.”

Rose called to him. “Lyn’s right. Temple doesn’t care who gets in the way as long as they have a shot at Luke. I only took out one of the men chasing us.”

Thorne’s gun tilted. His expression darkened, murderous. “What do you mean
you took out
?”

Rose’s hands shook. She masked her fear with a drink of whatever she could reach behind the bar. Keep didn’t stock enough alcohol to dull the pain of her taking a life. She’d never get used to that side of Anathema.

“I shot the guy chasing us,” she said.

Thorne released Luke, his breathing labored with an expelled profanity. “You
killed
a man?”

“I had to.”

“No.” He pointed at her. “No, you fucking didn’t. You
never
should have been in danger.”

And he didn’t need to make her feel worse. I raised my voice. “We’re
all
in danger. It’s time to get your head out of your ass and look beyond Pixie.”

“Lyn, I swear to God—”

“The Coup will come for Knight. You kill him, and you might as well turn the gun on us too.”

“For fuck’s sake—”

He didn’t finish. Keep’s patience and sanity cracked. His gun rose.

I jumped before he fired, knocking his arm. The bullet went wide, but not far enough. Luke shouted.

Chaos erupted. Rose and Gold dove over Keep. Thorne holstered his gun and leapt into the pile to tear Rose away before the drugs sent Keep into a rage.

Luke slumped, but he only grasped his leg.

He bled. Grunted in pain. My worst nightmare played out for all to see, and I couldn’t even reveal how goddamned terrified I was.

I dodged the fight, grabbed a towel, and slid before Luke.

“It’s fine.” He took the towel and covered the bleeding. “Just grazed me.”

Blood seeped through his jeans. The bullet punctured the wall behind him, not his thigh.

“Why would you come here?” I pushed his hands away and studied the wound. It needed to be cleaned, but he’d live—unlike the rest of us. “What happened?”

“Temple blasted through the hotel. I got the kid out.”

“And came
to
Pixie
?” I hissed.

“Where else was I going to take her?” Luke gritted his teeth through the pain, holding Thorne’s gaze. “I knew she was in trouble. I brought her back even though I figured you’d put a bullet in my brain. That count for something?”

Thorne sneered. “It counts for
her
, but you have to answer for a lot more men. How many of Anathema’s brothers are in the ground because of you?”

“How many more will die if you don’t listen to what I’ve got to say?”

“I’ll take my chances.”

“Will you bargain with her life too?” Luke nodded to Rose. “Temple MC’s always looking for women, and Rose would fetch a couple thousand once they sell her across the border.”

Thorne rushed. I prevented him from attacking Luke. Thorne and I stood eye-to-eye. Neither of us would blink.

But one of us would see reason.

“Clean him up.” Thorne made the order. It’d be the last time he spoke to me for a while. “He’s worth more alive than dead. Gold, tell his men the meeting’s changed. We’ll be in charge of negotiations now.”

I doubted The Coup would trade for him. Doubted more that they even had something to tempt Anathema besides blood.

Luke didn’t need help walking, but the blood dripped down his leg. Keep swore, pushing past Rose and Gold. He slammed the bar door closed behind him. Gold followed, helmet in hand.

Tempers raged, but when Rose passed to Thorne, he seized her, tangled his fingers in her hair, and held her for a fierce and desperate kiss.

It wasn’t right to feel jealous. We all had too many terrible memories and not enough sweetness. This wasn’t a world that rewarded anyone with happily-ever-afters. The Anathema MC destroyed fairy-tales. We couldn’t plan for them, couldn’t count on getting one, and even our most romantic dances waltzed glass slippers over bullet casings and oil stains.

I didn’t hope for it to change. I accepted the hardship and the grit, the blood and the burden of loyalty. Luke hadn’t. Wouldn’t. Refused.

And that’s why he bled. Again.

And this time, my heart bled with him.

They shoved him into Pixie’s supply closet. Reaper didn’t have to patrol the damn door, but I wasn’t telling the behemoth to leave. The only one who’d survive denying him was his best friend and stabilizing influence, Grim. But when the club split, neither Grim nor Reaper had anyone to help manage their anger or keep them sober.

Luke’s betrayal hurt more people than it benefited and caused more bloodshed than it prevented.

He knew it. I knew it. Difference was, he still thought he could fix it. I patched up a dead man so he’d look better in a casket.

“Pants off,” I said.

Luke gave me a tired grin. “Knew I’d wear you down eventually.”

“If you have enough blood left to pump into your cock, you might have a chance.”

“I’d spare some for you.”

“Oh Christ, you’re already delirious.” I aimed for his zipper. Wasn’t a stranger to it before, but I didn’t let him see me hesitate. “You are so fucking lucky.”

“I’m so fucking dead.”

“That too.”

I ignored what throbbed beneath his boxers, still stirring even with the wound to his thigh. He was all muscle. Every bit of him. Probably made the pain worse.

Pixie stocked enough medical supplies to spare on a member of The Coup. I ripped gauze with my teeth and tried to ignore the flashbacks.

It was impossible.

“Last time I did this…” I dipped a cloth in alcohol, clearing out the injury. “It was during that first night of the war. I patched everyone up that fight. Not all of them made it.”

“You’re a regular field nurse.”

“Can’t lose my best customers.” I slapped the tape over the bandage harder than I needed. It didn’t make either of us feel better. “Do you know I order my dancers to take first-aid classes? I told them I’d bump ten percent off their dues to the house if they showed their certifications.”

“Does Anathema need that many nurses?”

I brushed the hair from my face, too tired to remake the bun. “It’s not for Anathema. It’s for when an MC opens fire in Sorceress, in case they hit a dancer on the stage. The industry is dangerous enough without you lunatics making it worse.”

Luke tightened the tape over his leg. He slipped his pants on, ignoring the blood. For as much as I delighted customers with my routines, I wasn’t used to watching men dress. Even when I fooled around with the lucky few, I didn’t stay long enough for that awkwardness.

Except with Luke, I didn’t think it’d be awkward. Strip each other at night; dress in the morning. Like a normal couple.

There was a fool’s dream if ever I had one.

“You’ve changed,” he said, softly.

I closed my eyes. “Don’t start this.”

“You were always hard, Lyn. Harder than most of the guys.”

“I never had a choice.”

“And I didn’t say it was bad.” Luke hesitated. “You’ve never been so jaded. Doom and gloom doesn’t suit you, not unless you’re the one pissing in everyone’s cereal.”

The storage closet wasn’t the place to talk about this. Too many people could walk by, too many guns pointed at the door. I wouldn’t have spoken to Luke so honestly even at Sorceress.

But I had my own reasons for that.

Reasons that flittered my stomach with a weakness I needed to crush under my heel.

Or to embrace for the chaos that would come.

“I don’t know what you expect of me,” I said. Luke pressed his luck and seized my wrist. He almost died so I didn’t slap him like he deserved, but I didn’t pull close to him like he wanted. “We’ve dealt with crisis after crisis. I’ve lost
friends
. My
business
is the target of both clubs and the Feds. I’ve spent thousands in renovations and even more in protection money. And for what?”

He didn’t answer.

“Do you realize how much this has cost me?” I was too tired to lie. “
Us
?”

“It wouldn’t have affected us.”

I pulled away from his hand. The heat remained, spreading from my wrist into other inconvenient areas. “Don’t be stupid.”

“How is that stupid?”

“Because everything you did, everything you
still
do, affects every decision we never got to make.”

Luke rubbed his face. The hard angle of his jaw flexed, but the princely charm never faded. I fought so hard to ignore it.