Rainbow by K.L. Savage
The mood is eerie. My nerves are shot, and I’m not going to lie, I’m a few seconds away from either passing out or throwing up. I know MC life is gruesome, and I’ve learned that it’s best not to ask any questions if you value your life.
People who open their mouths get shot.
I just had to want to impress my boss in Vegas by showing how flexible I was. I just had to volunteer because I wanted to make a good impression, and of course, he sends me here. I could have said no.
I didn’t.
Because I never say no.
I can’t say I regret it. I wouldn’t have met Rainbow if I didn’t take the job, but when the hurricane is over, and after everyone gets their help, I’m supposed to go back to Vegas.
And even though I’m terrified right now, I’ve never felt more alive than when I’m with Rainbow. Of course, his MC will give me nightmares, and there will probably be more dead bodies, torture, and who knows what else. But if it means being with Rainbow, then I’ll be a part of it.
How do I tell him I want to stay? Doesn’t he know I’m not going to be here forever?
It hits me.
Of course, he knows. But, God, I’m so stupid. I’m a temporary fix. I’m someone he can use up until he’s done and then he’ll send me on my way. I’ll be left with a broken heart while he gets to add another notch to his bedpost.
He can’t be like that. He’s too kind and thoughtful to me. He’s been doing his best to convince me he means what he says. Why would he go through all that work for nothing? I need to be honest with him. I need to ask him. It’s fast, but if he doesn’t want me here, he needs to say so.
I’ll be able to go back to Vegas without questions lingering over my head, and I’ll be able to move on with my life.
The window in the living room shatters when a thick branch punches through it, completely interrupting my thoughts. Rainbow covers me with his body at the same time to protect me. Glass slides across the floor and the wind and rain sweep into the room.
“Are you okay?” Compass runs into the room, and the rain hits his face, soaking him immediately. “Come on, we have to get out of—” his eyes round when they land on us. “Oh, shit.”
“What?” I shout next, trying to make sure everyone can hear me over the hurricane blowing outside.
“Come on, buddy.” Compass takes Rainbow’s arm and drags him up by one arm, and when they turn, that’s when I see a large shard of glass sticking out of Rainbow’s shoulder.
“Rainbow!” I run after him and slip onto the wet floor, smacking my head against the floor. Glass bites my skin.
“Are you okay?” Fox squints his eyes and turns his head to avoid the rain hissing through the broken window.
I lift my hand and press it against the back of my head. “I think so,” I grumble, and Fox takes my hand to help me up. I hiss when his palm causes small pieces of glass to embed further into my hand. Fox drags me to another room to get away from the damage.
We’re taken to the kitchen next, where there are a hundred fucking windows to bring in a bunch of natural light. “Are you kidding me?” I point to the glass. “You live in hurricane alley, and you have a bunch of windows that you didn’t board up. Place him on the table and let’s hope another tree doesn’t burst through.” I point to the extra-large wooden table that can hold a family of 30.
“We didn’t have time,” grumbles Fox. “Storm moved too quick.” He and Compass go over to lay Rainbow on the table.
“On the other side, you fucking idiot. He has glass in his back,” Jokester yells at Compass.
“I’m fine. Someone just yank it out.” Rainbow tries to turn his head over his shoulder to get a look, and I come up behind, grab the kitchen scissors, and slice through his shirt.
“I liked that shirt.”
“I’ll get you another.” I have a habit of rolling my eyes, especially at Rainbow, and I can see the back of my skull right now. “You have a piece of glass in your shoulder, and you’re bitching about a shirt.”
“It was comfortable.”
“Someone shut him up,” I say, wiping my brow with sweat as I begin to get nervous.
“Here.” Jokester bites a cork into his mouth and rips it from the bottle. I can’t tell what it is, but it smells terrible. He tilts Rainbow’s head back and pours it down his throat.
My eyes burn just from the smell. I can’t imagine how he must feel.
Considering I’m not a doctor…
I calculate since it isn’t close to his spine, it’s okay. I grab the shard and pull it out, the flesh trying to cling to it. He bites back a painful shout and sags over the table when I finish. I toss it in the sink and snag the bottle of whatever the fuck it is from Jokester’s grasp and chug.
I swallow and cough. Tears prickle my eyes. “Oh my god. What is that?”
“White Lightning.”
I turn to Compass and wipe my mouth. “Am I supposed to know what that is?” I press a wet rag against Rainbow’s wound and flicker my eyes to Fox. “What is that?”
“It’s moonshine,” he tries not to laugh at my reaction.
“Isn’t that illegal?” I pour some on the rag and clean out the cut in Rainbow’s shoulder. I can’t believe he protected me. That glass could have hit my chest. Instead, he risked his life for me.
“Son of a bitch, that burns.”
“Sorry, baby,” I cringe. Am I allowed to call him that outside the bedroom?
“It’s one of our businesses. It’s why we’re always making deliveries to New Orleans. It’s good cash,” Jokester explains.
“Well, it’s… absolutely disgusting. You guys need to rework your formula. Christ. If I had chest hair it would have burnt off.” I’m serious, but I sound like I’m joking. Everyone laughs, including the patient. “It isn’t funny.” They laugh louder. “It’s not.”
“It’s an acquired taste, Sassafras.”
Rainbow tries to move, but I hold him down. “Not so fast. You need stitches.”
“Fuck that. With all the shit going on, there’s no way I’m getting stitches. Someone brand me. Let’s go.” He bends over the table and stretches his arms to the other side, grasping it white-knuckle tight. “Who is going to do it?”
A second later, Mime leaves the room and comes back with a branding iron with the Ruthless Kings’ skull on it, the same one that’s on the back of their cut.
“Whoa, wait a minute. Burns can be just as bad to treat. You can’t be serious, Rainbow. “
“I’m always serious when it comes to protecting you,” he replies, taking a swig of moonshine.
Melt my damn heart.
But… fucking moonshine!
I knew I was in the South, but I’ve only ever heard of moonshine in movies.
A click of the stove comes on, and I see Mime holding the branding iron over the flames since it’s a gas stove. “You’re serious. You can’t. I won’t… Rainbow. Don’t hurt yourself for me.”
“I’m bettering myself for you,” he states as a loud thump comes from the roof. “Let’s just hope we all don’t die first.”
Mime yanks off his shirt too and begins to heat up another brand.
“Greer,” Rainbow says his name with a clipped tone. “No. You don’t have to do this.”
I run my hands down my face. “What’s happening?” I whisper the question to myself so no one else can hear.
Mime hits his chest, points to Rainbow and makes a fist.
“Everything we do, we do together, I know,” Rainbow explains to all of us what Mime said.
Mime takes a stance next to Rainbow and gives the hot brand to Fox. He clutches the table and Rainbow gives an appreciative grin to his brother.
“Ready?” Jokester says behind Rainbow. Fox gets into position as well.
I hurry in front of the two brothers and hold both of their hands. “You crazy fuckers,” I whisper just as the brands sizzle against their shoulders. I flinch and squirm and gag.
The smell of burnt flesh is one that I have not and will never get accustomed to. The men grunt, but they don’t scream or pass out.
Unlike me. I’m lightheaded. How can someone willingly do this?
“I think I might bring branding back. So loyal members get a brand. People who don’t want them get cast out.” Jokester blows the smoke off the iron.
A side door bursts in and Grudge and Teller are standing soaking wet next to one another. “We found Sherlock,” Teller shakes his head left and right, getting water everywhere. “And the river is flooding. No one can leave.”
“Great. Where the hell is he?” Jokester slaps the iron rod in his palm, and I get to work bandaging the brothers.
First, I disinfect the area.
With moonshine since that’s all that is readily available.
“Mother fucker!”
“Oh, now he shouts. After he’s branded. Please,” I scoff, and my eyes do the thing where they tumble into the back of my head.
Mime grunts again and slams his fist on the table.
“Watch your mouth. I’m the one with the bandages, remember?” I poke at the quiet brother and Rainbow and Mime both chuckle. “Hey, talk or no talk, remember who the queen of attitude is here,” I joke around again as I tape them up. “You two are insane for doing that.”
“Where the hell is Sherlock?” repeats Jokester
“He’s hanging from the tree outside,” Teller’s voice grows solemn.
Silence falls over the living room. The only sound is the rain dripping onto the floor.
“What the fuck did you just say?” Jokester drops the iron rod onto the ground.
“He’s dead,” Teller repeats. “We can’t get him down. All we can do is hope the rope doesn’t break or he’ll be lost to the river.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. Fuck!” Prez screams at the top of his lungs and kicks the trashcan. It flies across the kitchen, spreading trash all over the floor. He grabs the sides of his hair before lacing his fingers across the back of his neck. “Where is Puzzle?”
“Can’t find him,” Grudge sneers, cracking his neck as if he’s looking for a fight.
Jokester strolls to the window to look out of it and grabs the edge, hanging his head. “Damn it. Damn it! We doubted him and now look. We have to be better,” he announces. “No more second-guessing. If you don’t like how I run this club, fucking leave. People shouldn’t have to get hurt.”
“You got it, Prez,” a few of the guys answer.
“Find Puzzle. Bring him to me. His frown is mine. Do you understand?”
Jokester watches as Grudge and Teller leave again before turning around and eyeing the room. “Hound see how Lye is doing with the kid,” Jokester orders.
Hound gives a mock salute before climbing up the steps that are next to the kitchen.
“Compass, Stacks, Cactus, Butcher, Creep, Mime, Fox, Rainbow.” He takes a head count of all the members in the kitchen. “Where the fuck is Cosmo? Why is everyone fucking disappearing? Where can everyone go in the middle of a fucking hurricane?”
His frustration grows by the second.
“When this hurricane is over, the first thing that will be changing is the brand. To be in this club, you have to fucking wear it. When you do, you pledge your life to your brothers, no matter their sexuality, their job, their pasts. I don’t fucking care what makes us different. No matter what, if you are a King, you fucking act like one.”
“Yes, Prez,” everyone agrees.
He glances out the window again, watching the turmoil and havoc the storm is bringing. Even from here, I can see the river rippling in places it doesn’t belong. “We have to get him down from there. He deserves more than what we gave him.”
“I’ll climb up and get him,” Rainbow volunteers.
Again.
“I just got you back from taking a quick swim, and now you want to go out in worse weather?” I nearly screech and grab the brand again to stop him. “Don’t even think about it.”
“I can’t have him stay out there. It isn’t right for his body to get battered.”
“I know… I just got you back.”
“Ryan is right.” Jokester turns away from the window and turns the silver rod to close the shutters. “I hate it, but I can’t risk any more lives.” He rubs his temples. “Good thing you’re here, Ryan, Flatline isn’t around, and we need a medical expert. Sounds like we’re going to be needing it.”
I grab the moonshine and take another long gulp. I shiver and shake my head, stick my tongue out, and make a noise that’s not quite human. That stuff is so gross. “I’m no doctor, but I’ll help any way I can.”
“Good, because I don’t know what’s going on, but I need to make sure everyone from here on out lives. Okay?”
“You got it.” No pressure, right?
I take another swig of moonshine and Rainbow snatches it from me. Another branch slams against the side of the house and a window cracks down the middle.
If an estranged biker doesn’t kill us, Hurricane Jeffrey will.
