Hellbent Hero by Naomi Porter

27

Hero

IT KILLED ME to leave Roja so soon. Especially after I told her about her dad serving time for second-degree manslaughter. I was sure she would break. Sure, I’d have to tell my prez to do this run without me. It wouldn’t have gone over well with Storm or my brothers. The club came first. Period. End.

And we all wanted Deputy Miller to pay. Still, I would’ve refused to go if Tara lost it.

Then I would’ve been beaten for it.

Not because Storm enjoyed giving a brother a good pounding. It was just the way MCs rolled. If you refused to follow Prez’s orders, he couldn’t back down. Couldn’t ignore the noncompliance.

I understood the consequences.

Storm couldn’t appear weak in the club like he’d grown a pussy. I’d have to be punished and take it like a man.

But my woman surprised the hell out of me, saving me from Storm’s wrath. In her heart, she knew the truth. I only confirmed it. I’d never known a more incredible woman. Strong and determined to put the past behind her, and look toward the future… with me.

So here I was driving to Duluth with my crew. It’d been four hours since we left the clubhouse, fast approaching midnight. There were six of us in two separate, unmarked cages. Track, Dodge, and I followed Storm, Boxer, and Grizzly.

These vehicles received new paint after each job they participated in. Can never be too safe and all.

“We almost there?” Dodge yawned like a lion, stretching in the backseat.

I gave Track a sidelong glance. We both shook our heads, probably thinking the same thing: baby.

“Shouldn’t be long now, sleeping beauty,” Track laughed and I joined him.

“Fuck off, cuz. I don’t get much sleep these days.” Dodge’s honesty sobered us, swiftly stifling our amusement.

Damn, I felt terrible. Dodge was a young dude, twenty-three and newly patched. He had his whole life ahead of him. He did his job within the club and at the gun shop without complaint. Maintained appearances as expected without fail. But anyone could see inside he was simmering. At any moment, he’d boil over or explode. I just hoped it wasn’t in a way that would get him twenty-five to life.

“Sorry, man.” Track looked out the window. He wasn’t the sort of guy who teased others. More level-headed than some and the peacekeeper. Hard to believe he was a member of an outlaw MC. Not much riled him up. Overall, he was a really nice, easy-going man.

“I just can’t sleep at night, ya know?”

I eyed Dodge in the rearview mirror. He was sitting up after sleeping across the backseat the last three hours. The brother looked destroyed.

“All I do is think about her. Wonder what she’s doing. If she misses me. How big her stomach is. If she’s giving me a son or daughter.” He rubbed his eyes with his palms. “It fucking hurts being without them.”

Christ Almighty. I never heard Dodge talk this much in all the time he’d been with us. It fucking broke my heart, because I knew the pain of losing the woman I loved and my child. Mine were gone forever in one night. His were within reach. A few hours away. May as well be dead with the way Justin threatened him if he got close. In some ways that was far worse than them being dead.

If in his shoes, I would’ve run off half-cocked to Fargo and taken my woman back. Might’ve ended up with a bullet between the eyes, too, knowing the state of mind Justin was in. Shit, I didn’t want to think about this anymore. It was downright depressing.

Track looked over his shoulder at Dodge. “Just gotta have faith, Danny. Trust my dad. He believes Justin will come around. And when he does, I’ll take you to Fargo myself.”

“It’s Dodge, motherfucker,” he growled, then smirked, giving some levity to the heaviness in the van.

Track and I shook our heads, smiling.

“But I appreciate you saying so, cuz.” He slapped Track’s shoulder. “So are we almost there?”

“Brother, you’re worse than a five-year-old,” I teased.

“I gotta take a piss.”

Track tossed an empty water bottle at him, making us all laugh. I missed this with my brothers, while I’d been absent. Ryder would love it. I couldn’t wait to see him Tuesday.

I dialed into the sound of a zipper and a relieved sigh, followed by…

No shit.

Dodge whipped his dick out and peed into the bottle.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” Track shouted. “We don’t need to smell your piss, man!” He rolled his window down. “Fuck. You need to drink more water!”

I rolled my window down, next. Dayum, that son of a bitch clearly didn’t drink enough of anything. It was so fragrant. Not even fragrant. Putrid.

“You all are babies. It ain’t that bad.” He chuckled. “Hey, they’re stopping. Guess I could’ve waited.”

“He guesses he could’ve waited,” Track hissed, pushing his door open as soon as I stopped and jumped out like his ass was on fire. Dodge followed him, zipping his pants. I’d throw the bottle out, but I wouldn’t want to risk Dodge’s piss getting traced back to us. We’d have to survive the smell on the way back.

I killed the lights and engine, joining my brothers.

Storm looked each one of us in the eyes. “I promised Raul we’d do this clean. He doesn’t want to see any of us behind bars. I don’t want to be charged with murder. I gotta kid on the way.” His gaze met Dodge’s. “You get me? Don’t be stupid.”

Dodge nodded.

Boxer bounced on his toes, working his arms and cracking his neck like a deranged motherfucker preparing to kill. He was brutal in the cage, taking out his opponent in the first round and outside of it. No doubt, due to that massive chip on his shoulder.

He’d been unusually hyper since yesterday. I wasn’t sure what was going on with him. Maybe it had something to do with his ex. Roja had seen Jill and Boxer get into it over Snow when she was with the ladies and guessed the brother got pissed and left. Track told me he spent the evening in the gym. Didn’t drink with the others. Didn’t take Libby up to his room or any other kitten.

What was it with so many brothers being without the woman they loved? It was a damn shame. I’d been one of them for years after Monica’s death. Would’ve been in hell if my Roja hadn’t forgiven me.

“Now you know the plan. Let’s get our gear on and rid the Earth of this particular breed of scum.” Storm clapped his hands.

Half an hour later, we hiked through the forest with knit ski masks, night-vision goggles, and camo gear. Grizzly gave us coordinates through our earpieces. I wasn’t nervous or afraid. Not with Boxer and Storm leading the way. They’d fought together in Afghanistan. Knew their way around weapons like a couple of experts. Well, hell, because they were.

Boxer raised his fist, our cue to stop.

“To the right, about two hundred yards is the cabin,” Grizzly said. “Hold tight while I check for thermal energy.” A moment later he relayed, “We’re clear.”

We proceeded forward, then split up: three to the right, three to the left. Storm and Dodge were with me. Grizzly stayed in the woods since he was like our command center; the eyes and ears to keep us safe. All he needed with his iPad, apparently.

“The security system has been disabled,” came Grizzly’s voice. “Thermal heat in the back left corner and front right. I assume in the front is the living room.”

I checked the air. Smoke billowed out of a pipe on the roof.

“Let’s go.” Storm pointed forward.

We entered the cabin from the front. Halfway in, we met up with Boxer and his crew. It was a small shack, one modest-sized room for the kitchen and living space, a small stone fireplace, and a hallway to the right. All wood from floor to ceiling. Very rustic. I kinda liked it. I wondered if Tara would too.

“Thermal heat approaching on four legs,” Grizz whispered.

Four legs?

Barking ensued. A snippy fucking Chihuahua had us on the move.

“Fuck.” Prez stormed toward the back bedroom.

Track grabbed the rat by the snout to shut him up.

In a rush, Storm had Miller bound and gagged. Shit, he was lightning fast. Miller hadn’t stood a chance.

Storm dragged him out of his bedroom, struggling and grunting. The rest of us stood off to the side and let our prez do his thing.

This was Storm’s moment of retribution.

Not one of us would ever interfere or take it away from him. Albeit, it wouldn’t be as satisfying as Storm would like. He couldn’t risk blowback on the club or spending life in prison for murder.

“You lousy, fuckin’, narcissistic piece of shit!” he roared. “I want so badly to strip you of your fuckin’ plaid flannel pajamas and torture you within an inch of your pathetic life! It fuckin’ pisses me off that I can’t even punch your goddamn ugly face! Or cut off your micropenis and shove it down your throat.” Storm’s hands shook as rage consumed him, heaving above a cowering Miller.

Dayum, I ain’t never seen him like this before.

“No. I can’t do any of that! But I’ll tell you what I can do, you motherfuckin’ piece of shit. Watch with great pleasure as you shiver to death. Your fingers and nose turning blue. The breath stilling in your chest. I will stay here until the very end to make sure you can never hurt my woman again!”

Miller shook his head, eyes pleading as he begged for mercy.

“Track, open the door and let the dog out,” Storm ordered. The yappy rat scurried out. “Now, get to your feet, or I will dress you out like you did that deer above the mantle.” He jerked his head to the right.

I hadn’t even noticed the deer head.

Once Miller had on a pair of boots, Storm pushed him out the door. “Go find your dog!”

The bound deputy ran, slipping on an icy patch of leaves. He struggled to get back on his feet. I saw how this would work. How the dog was the perfect decoy to lure deputy fucking Miller to his death.

Strom stepped out the front door. “Grizz, keep eyes on him.”

“Yeah, boss,” Grizzly’s reply came through the earpiece.

Storm turned toward us. “Let’s erase any trace of us. Go back out the way you came. Remove footprints as you go back to the vehicles. Box, you’re with me. The rest of you can go home.” Storm scratched his chin through his knit mask. “But not you, Grizz.”

“I know, boss.”

“What about the rat dog?” Dodge sounded a bit concerned.

Storm growled a little. He wasn’t an animal person.

“We can leave it at that gas station we passed a half a mile back,” Boxer said.

“Fine,” Storm grunted.

I guessed that was it.

Track, Dodge, and I did as Storm commanded, erasing our footsteps as we returned to the van. We removed our gear and headed home.

“Gotta say this was one lackluster manhunt,” I told my brothers.

“Yeah, I sorta feel sorry for Storm.” Track grabbed a bottle of water and tossed it back to Dodge. “You should drink at least five of these a day.”

“Water has no flavor. It’s boring,” Dodge complained.

“Your kidneys will thank you after the way you’ve been living.” Track and I laughed, shaking our heads.