Bad Boy's Baby: Wicked Angels MC (36 page)

Suddenly, my head felt like someone had poured ice water all over me. “What the fuck are you talking about?” I growled. “I think you have the wrong guy.”

The figured looked at me. “Blake Ward,” he said. “Is that your name? If so, I’m here for you. I’m here to kill you, Blake,” he added. The lips of the thing broke out into an evil grin—much too wide and white to be human. “I’m here to kill you,” it repeated. The sentence was followed by a bone-chilling laugh and I felt myself start to shake. Suddenly I knew that the thing was going to find me and hunt me down and kill me, and then kill  Sarah. I knew that the gun in my hand or even the crowbar wasn’t going to do any damage.

As I took aim at the thing’s chest, I fired the gun. The figure staggered backwards and fell; I felt victory swelling in my chest before the mocking, cold laughter started again. I shivered. The figure straightened up with alarming speed and rushed towards me until it was inches away from my face.

“What do you want?” I hissed. “I’ll give you anything, just leave me alone. Just go away!”

The thing laughed cruelly. “I want your death, Blake,” it whispered in an ethereal whisper that filled the air around me. “I want your death, and I want the death of Sarah.”

“No,” I whispered. “Please. I’ll do anything. Kill me. But not her, don’t touch her!”

I felt a sharp stabbing pain in my side and looked down to see a gaping wound that was gushing blood and pus. As I tried to grip my flesh together, the thing laughed and touched me with a cold limb. I stumbled backwards and fired my gun a few more times at the apparition. With each shot, it stumbled but never fell, and when my gun was out of rounds, it laughed at me.

“You’re not going to save her,” it taunted me. “She’s going to be mine, forever!”

“No!” I yelled. Suddenly, the thing disappeared from my eyesight. Terrified and in intense pain, I whipped my head around the room and looked for it. There was nothing; only moonlight streaming in through the window.

There was a shriek from my bedroom and I sprinted down the hall as quickly as I could. I heard Sarah’s high voice screaming and it wrenched my heart.

“Blake! Help me!” she cried loudly, squealing and crying out. “I need you to help me, Blake! Please!”

“Sarah!” I screamed as I pounded on the door. There was something on the other side holding it shut, and just as I began to slam against the door with my full weight, I heard the high-pitched laughter of the thing. Sarah screamed again.

“Sarah!” I yelled loudly. “Hang on, Sarah! I’m coming!”

I kept pounding and pounding against the door but it was no use. The wound in my side was deepening with every passing second and I could feel my body getting cold. I was lightheaded, and no matter how much air I sucked in, I still felt more drained than ever.

“Sarah, I’m sorry,” I said as I slumped to the ground, clutching my chest. “I failed you. I’m so sorry,” I repeated. “I’m sorry.” It was all I could say as I felt life spill out of me and my body slipped into a deep, dark, place.

Chapter Eighteen

When I woke up, it took me more than a few seconds to shake off the bad dream. I was used to having nightmares, but there was something absurd about the quality of this one. It was like my subconscious was working against me, actively trying to make sure that I didn’t get too complacent in life. I shook my head but the images of that figure in black wouldn’t go away.

“Fuck,” I muttered out loud. The sun was going down and I knew that I had to be at the clubhouse soon. We were taking a vote today, and if I wasn’t there, they’d have done it without me. I was antsy that Devil’s Own was taking so long to vote on retaliation against the Aztecs. I felt like if we didn’t hurry up, we’d be left regretting it before too much longer.

Quickly, I showered and shaved, dressing in dark wash jeans and a black shirt. Sarah was at the back of my mind; the dream had made me uneasy. For some reason, I was starting to have a bad feeling, a feeling like I wouldn’t be able to protect her.
That’s fucked, dude
, I thought to myself.
Of course you’ll be able to protect her. She’s just a woman
.

By the time I left, the ugliest image from the dream—Sarah’s door locked while she cried out and I couldn’t save her—was beginning to slowly fade from my mind. The night was chilly and my bike felt like a live animal between my legs, thrumming and guiding me to all the dark places in the world. I loved being in the MC for the sway it held, and for my reputation, but most of the time I didn’t feel like I was living too dark of a life. Tonight was different; the air was malleable, changing. I could sense danger. The roads were quiet as I zipped along through downtown, then to the outskirts of town where our clubhouse was. I frowned when I saw how dark it looked from far away. Why weren’t any of the lights on?

When I pulled up in the parking lot, I took off my helmet and scratched my head. All of the windows were dark and it looked deserted. Checking my watch, I saw that I was a few minutes late. All of the guys should be here by now, but I didn’t even see their bikes in the lot.

“Hey, Jimmy,” I called out loudly. “Are y’all here?”

My voice echoed off the asphalt and stone. There was no reply, and I kicked some gravel aimlessly as I walked towards the door. It was locked; it was always locked, but we had keys, and I had to fumble in the dark before pulling my set out. There was a noise behind me and I turned around, expecting to see the guys coming out and laughing at me. But there was nothing there. My mouth went dry and I called out Jimmy’s name again.

“Abel? Red? Are y’all here? Stop fucking with me,” I growled. “This isn’t funny anymore.”

From across the parking lot, I heard the chain link fence clatter, then slam shut. My heart started thudding fast in my chest; there were no headlights to indicate that a car was there, and I didn’t hear footsteps. Sticking my hand in the back of my waistband, I grabbed a gun and aimed at the fence. When I stopped breathing, I could
almost
hear something.

By now, the night was fully dark. I had a shiver of fear when I remembered the thing in my dream.
Buck up, Blake
, I ordered myself.
It was just a fucking dream
.
Everything’s gonna be fine, just don’t puss out right now
.

Slowly, I crept back towards the gate in the yard, hugging the fence. I heard whispers and footsteps, and suddenly I knew that whatever was going on, it wasn’t a game. I shuddered when I realized the voices were speaking hushed Spanish. No one in Devil’s Own was fluent.

“Who’s there?” I called gruffly. “Come out and fight like a man, asshole!”

There was no answer, but the rustling and whispers behind the fence continued. I rolled my eyes. “Come the fuck on,” I said loudly. “I’m not waiting all fucking day for you. Where’s my fucking club?”

A figure stepped out of the darkness. At first, it looked like the black shadowy figure from my dream and my heart leapt into my throat. When he got closer, I realized it was one of the Aztecs. He grinned at me; a gold tooth flashed in the darkness.

“We heard about what happened with our friend,” he said, grinning. From the shadows, I watched as two other Aztecs stepped out and flanked him. My palms started to sweat and I tightened my grip on the gun. “We wanted to pay you a little visit and thank you for putting him in the hospital,” the same guy said. Looking at his friends, he nodded.

“That’s bullshit,” I spat. “You’re not welcome here. Leave now, or the rest of the Devil’s are going to come kick your ass!”

The Aztec laughed; it wasn’t the same cruel, high-pitched laughter from my dream but sent chills down my spine nonetheless. He and his two cronies advanced. I cocked the hammer and pointed the gun at him, tightening my finger on the trigger.

He held up his hands. “Don’t be a coward,” he said with a grin. “We just want a fair fight, like you had in the parking lot.” His cronies reached my sides and pinned my arms down. The gun dropped onto the pavement with a metallic clatter and one of them kicked it away before winding his arm back and taking a big swing at my face. I ducked but the other guy reached for me and grabbed me.

“Fuck!” I got to my knees and reached for the gun, but not before the leader of the group walked up and kicked me square in the face. Pain blossomed through my body and I cried out, feeling myself jerk backwards and land on the ground. Gravel bit into the side of my face and I was struggling to get up when the thugs surrounded me and began kicking and punching me. Somehow I was able to trip one of them and crawl away.
Where’s the gun?
I thought in a panicked moment.
Where’s my fucking gun?

The Aztecs watched as I crawled pathetically on the ground, groping and flinging my hand out as I searched for the gun. I heard them laughing as I crawled around in the dark, trying to keep my eyes open. Warm blood was streaming down my forehead and making it difficult to see; no matter how many times I wiped it away, I knew that I was cut pretty badly.

“Get up and fight,” one of them said in accented English. “Fight like a man, don’t be a pussy!”

“Yeah, don’t be a pussy,” one of them said.

I got to my feet and growled, charging at one of them with my head lowered. It caught him off guard and he sailed backwards, crashing against the chain link fence with a deafening clatter. When he was down, I whirled around with my fist out and caught one of the other guys in the stomach. He doubled over, the air knocked out of him, and I kicked his legs out from under him so he dropped onto the ground. The last thug came up behind me and wrapped an arm around my neck, squeezing me. Instantly, I was choking and coughing and watching helplessly as the two fallen Aztecs picked themselves up off the ground. The leader came towards me, grinning, while his friend still had me in a chokehold. He grinned even wider as he made a fist and swung back. I closed my eyes and braced myself for the blow. It landed right on my cheek and I could feel my nose smashing and bending to the side with the force of his hand.

“Fuck you,” I yelled, spitting blood on the ground. “Get the fuck off my property.”

The Aztec who was holding me released me and I spun around, swinging and missing for his black, greasy head. “That’s what you think, you fuck,” he said under his breath. I lowered my head to charge him but he saw me coming and raised his leg to knee me in the face. Blood poured out of my nose and mouth and I wiped it away, coughing and spitting. The other two Aztecs came at me and I held them at arm’s length, reaching out with my legs to try to kick them down. It was a pretty pathetic scene, and I could feel the blood pounding in my ears as I tried to hold the three guys off. Even when I got in a good punch, I knew that I couldn’t have possibly taken all three of them.

One of the Aztecs stooped down and picked up something shiny from the ground. When he waved it around in the air, I knew it was a gun. Suddenly, I growled and ran for him, landing on top of him and knocking him backwards. The gun flew out of his hand and clattered on the pavement, sliding under my bike. Just as the Aztec was winding back to punch me in the face, I twisted out of the way and hit him hard in the face. My hand stung immediately as I felt his cartilage and bone break under my skin. Rage was boiling inside of me; even though I knew there was no way I could win this fight, I wasn’t going down until I could no longer move.

The Aztec growled and spat blood at me. I hit him again and again, until he could no longer cry out, and I saw his eyelids flutter closed. The other two thugs were busy looking for my gun on the ground. They didn’t notice when I picked myself off their fallen comrade and came towards them with my hands balled up at my sides.

“Look, pussy boy’s coming back for more,” one of them jeered to the other. I growled and charged, knocking the offender backwards. I was somehow able to catch myself before I tripped over him and fell, and I spun backwards, landing a punch on the last Aztec. He fell to his knees and I started raining blows on his head and neck. Blood and teeth were glistening on the surface of the asphalt and I kept going until he’d passed out. I was so determined to beat him to a pulp that I didn’t notice the Aztec I’d knocked over crawling to the side and fishing for my gun.

“Stop!” I yelled. He turned around and laughed at me. When he held the gun up in the air, my heart stopped beating. Suddenly, I knew I was dead. As he aimed at me and cocked the gun, I said a mental apology to Sarah.
I’m sorry I couldn’t keep you safe.
I’m so sorry
.

Just as I thought I was about to die, I heard sirens in the distance. “Oh, fuck!” the Aztec cried. He dropped the gun and I fell to my knees in relief. The Aztec tried grabbing and dragging his two fallen brothers but couldn’t manage with both of their weights. He grabbed the smaller one and dragged him to safety, through a new hole in the chain link fence. Just as the police cars were zooming closer, I felt myself start to grow faint of breath.

“Fuck,” I muttered. “Stay awake. Stay awake, man. Just try,” I mumbled, my swollen eyelids fluttering closed. As I felt my body hit the ground, pain radiated through me in big shockwaves. I struggled to keep breathing as I heard the police cars roar into the parking lot and grind to a stop.

“Come out with your hands up,” I heard a gruff voice say over the megaphone. “Everyone, now!”

The Aztec and his mate had disappeared, but there was still the fallen Aztec on the ground and me. When the police repeated the command, I moaned loudly. As I tried to pull myself off the ground, pain exploded in every joint and every limb of my body. I bit my lip so I wouldn’t cry out and managed to haul myself into a standing position. With every ounce of will left in my body, I raised my hands in the air and turned around so my back was to the police car.

I heard guns cocking and whispered voices as the cops climbed out of their cars and approached me. Rough hands grabbed my wrists and forced them behind my back. I cried out in pain but the cop didn’t notice, and put metal handcuffs on me. They were uncomfortably tight, and my sore shoulder joints ached at once.

“You wanna tell me what the fuck you boys were up to?” A cop leaned in my face and I turned away.

“Ask my lawyer,” I grunted. “I’m not telling you shit.” The cop punched me in the side and I crumpled but didn’t fall over.

“I’ll do just that,” he sneered at me. “Come on,” he called to the other cops. “Book that wetback, too.”

I closed my eyes as the cop hustled me over to his car. He pushed me down in the backseat and I slammed my head against the car. Pain bloomed in my vision and I could feel a new trickle of blood coming down my temple, fresh and wet. The cop slammed the door and I watched for a few minutes, bored, as they dragged the Aztec off the pavement and booked him in their other car.

When the cop got in behind the driver’s seat, he turned to me. “Blake, I hate this, man,” he said. I winced when I recognized him as one of the cops who had booked me the last time. “You’ve got to learn to keep your ass out of trouble,” he said, shaking his head. “Seriously, you’re not gonna get anywhere in life if we have to keep dragging you downtown.”

I spat at the partition in the car. “Then you better fuckin’ learn to stay out of my club’s business,” I sneered. “The fuck business you think you have with us, anyway? Those fuckin’ Aztecs attacked me when I rolled up for a club meeting. This was all self-defense!”

The cop gave a short bark of a laugh. “You’re a storyteller, I’ll give you that,” he said with a wry grin. I turned my head to the side so I wouldn’t have to look at his smug, fat, fucking face. “We know you’re looking for trouble, Blake. Just tell me, come on. It won’t be as big of a deal if you plead guilty.”