Adversaries by T.L. Hodel
Ikicked out the stand on my hog and looked up at the rundown Ferris wheel. Most people wouldn’t notice the light glinting off something in the top red bucket. Then again, most people wouldn’t expect someone to be sitting up there with a sniper rifle. I
n any other city, a rundown amusement park would be a mecca for illegal teenage activity. There was a reason the kids around here avoided this place, and it had nothing to do with the haunting rumors.
Was this place haunted? Yes, but not by a ghost.
This was the last place I wanted to be. Well, second last place. I spent hours looking for Naomi. Don’t think I’d ever been so glad not to find someone in my life. She heard what her father said.
What the hell was I going to say to her? Sorry? Your dad’s a tool? Didn’t quite seem like enough. Besides, the raid was in two hours I had more important things to do.
I stepped off my bike, triggering a spotlight to click on and blind me.
“Shit,” throwing my hand up to shield my eyes. I called out, “Come on out, you paranoid fucker.”
Three more spotlights turned on, flooding the area in brightness so intense, God himself would be impressed. A few seconds later, a mound of rubble to my left shifted and lifted off the ground.
I cocked a brow as Wilder stood up, turning what I thought was a pile into some kind of blanket draped around his shoulders. A blanket that looked like a pile of rubble.
Black streaks were painted around his face, framing a gaze that I could only describe as yellow or golden. They weren’t dark enough to be brown or bright enough to be green.
Everything about the man was like it couldn’t make up its mind. His hair for example, which he had piled on the top of his head in a bun. The locks were brown and red. It was the deadness in his face that got me every time. People called Preston void and empty, but none of them had met Wilder.
He dropped the butt of the rifle in his hand on the ground and braced himself against it. “You here to dispose of something?”
“No.” I shook my head.
“Too bad.” He kicked the gun up, slinging it over his shoulder, and strutted across the cement path to the haunted house. “The gators are hungry.”
I watched him disappear inside and thought about leaving. The chances of convincing him to help me out were pretty slim. The only thing I had going on my side was the fact that he owed me a favor.
I caught the crazy motherfucker wrestling a gator last month. He had the thing pinned with his arm locked around its jaw. Why? Who the fuck knows? He could’ve been hungry. He could’ve been bored. One thing he wasn’t doing was paying attention.
Wilder didn’t see the asshole with a gun sneaking up on him. But I did.
With a sigh, I followed him into the haunted house, which looked nothing like it should. The inside had been transformed into an actual livable space. Couch, TV, and woodburning stove. He even had a little table with two chairs in the corner. One of which I sat in.
“What’s with the flowers?” I asked, nodding at an empty soda can with three dandelions in it.
Wilder shrugged off the blanket and said, “People like flowers.”
“Do you like flowers?” I was legitimately curious.
He looked me dead in the eyes. “No.”
My brow arched. Alright then. Wilder wasn’t just an odd duck, he was the odd duck. Most of his life was spent in the military. Black ops or some shit, I think. Other than claiming the government had a hit out on him, he didn’t talk much about it.
I didn’t believe that shit until I saw the dog tags on the prick that was trying to kill him. He didn’t so much as twitch an eye at that.
Even now, he didn’t react. I could tell he was uncomfortable with me being here–Wilder didn’t like it when people invaded his space. He just poured some water in a kettle and put it on the stove.
“You’re probably wondering why I’m here?”
Again, I was met with silence as he reached up and pulled a tin off a shelf.
I had to be careful how I worded this. You owe me a favor, so do it wasn’t going to fly with him. There were very few people in this world I was afraid of. Wilder didn’t have the girth to his form that I did, but the man was all muscle.
Every time he moved, I could see the bulges gliding under his skin. He could tear me apart with his bare hands and not even break a sweat. That wasn’t the issue. Death I could handle. Hell, I welcomed that shit.
The problem came with how long he’d make me suffer first.
“I’d like to call in that favor?”
He turned around and stared at me while gracefully dipping a teabag into a mug of water.
I waited a second for him to speak before I continued. “There’s a war coming.”
Wilder sipped his tea.
“My brother is taking things too far.”
“You want me to kill him?”
It was unnerving how normally he asked that question.
“No,” I shook my head. That was my responsibility. “There’s a sorority house he threatened.” Here goes nothing. “I need you to keep an eye on the girls there.”
I held my breath and stared at the head of a snake tattoo winding around his shoulders and down his left arm. It felt like the viper’s eyes were watching me as silence grew heavy in the air.
The only sound trickling through the room was the small sips he took from the mug in his hand. Even more disturbing was the fluffy little orange kitten wrapped around the ceramic, with the words hang in there written across the top. How’s that for irony?
I was just about to get up and leave when he finally spoke.
“How many girls?”
Did that mean he was going to take the job? “A dozen. Maybe more.”
“How long do you want me to watch them?”
“I don’t know?” My brows furrowed as I gave him a shrug. “Guess that depends on how long the war lasts.”
Wilder walked over to a sink in the far corner and washed out his mug.
“I’ll give you a week,” he said while carefully placing it back on the shelf.
“Great.” Hey, a week was more than I hoped for, gave us some time to breathe. “I appreciate this.”
He gave me a nod as I turned to leave.
“Oh, and Chase.”
I stopped in the doorway and glanced back at him.
“The next time you come in my territory unannounced,” His dead eyes met mine, “I’ll shoot you in the leg.”
“Get down!”Beast yelled and pulled me behind a car as bullets cut into the metal.
An explosion went off from inside the building behind us. The raid went off without a hitch. We rode in, took care of the Reapers inside, and made off with their stash. The problem came when backup arrived.
Two of our men were hit. Beast, Mannix, and I stayed behind to get them out before the whole building went up in flames.
Both those men were dead now, burning inside a two-story house in the middle of suburbia, and Mannix had taken two in the leg.
“Great time to put Playboy on babysitting duty,” Beast growled over the roaring flames.
“Stop whining and fucking shoot,” I snarled while leaning around the hood of the car and popping a few off.
Fact was, Beast was right. Tanner was a pain, but I swear that kid had a horseshoe shoved up his ass. I’d seen him get out of shit that no fucker should’ve survived. I left him to find Naomi because I didn’t trust anyone else.
That girl was fucking up my judgment. I was so concerned that someone else might touch her, that I benched our star player.
Mannix groaned and reached out to grip my leg. “Get me on my fucking bike.”
“In case you haven’t noticed,” Beast’s big mitt slapped down on Mannix’s fresh wound, “you’re shot idiot.”
“Barley,” He tsked. “Pussies can’t aim worth shit.”
“Yeah, genius,” Beast lit the wick on a Molotov cocktail and tossed it over the car. “Stand up.”
The glass bottle shattered on the pavement in a flash of fire, igniting one of the Reapers’ legs.
“He’s right,” I called over to Beast, “we have to get the fuck out of here.”
I could hear sirens in the distance, and we wouldn’t be doing anyone any good locked up.
Beast growled out a loud, “Fuck,” and stared through the cloud of black smoke to our bikes. They were parked maybe a hundred yards away.
Making the trek to escape wasn’t ideal, but we’d run out of options. Something that Beast seemed to understand as he wrapped Mannix’s arm around his shoulder and lugged the fucker into the black smoke.
I stared back at the burning building where my men’s bodies were. One of them had a kid and the other a wife. What was I going to tell them? Those men were my responsibility, and I didn’t even have a body for their families to bury.
‘Those men made their choices.’Sam’s sweet tone rang through the back of my head. ‘You did what you could.’
“Did I?”
I could’ve pushed them out of the way or at least brought their bodies back.
“Spider,” Beast waved back at me, “let’s go.”
Taking one last at the fire, I pushed off the car and followed Beast. Bullets whizzed by, hitting the ground, but somehow we made it to our rides.
The two empty bikes sitting next to ours were like a punch in the gut. A haunting hint at what was to come. How many more empty rides would I have to see? How many bodies would pile up in this war?
‘You can’t save everyone, my love.’
“No,” I said and kicked my bike into gear, “I just condemn them.”