Crash & Carnage by Emma Slate

Chapter 35

I fellasleep in the chair next to Mia’s hospital bed, only to be awakened by the opening of the door. The nurse wheeled in the baby to be fed.

“I’ll leave,” I said, rising. “To give you some privacy.”

“Stay,” Mia insisted. “I don’t mind. Really.”

I sat back down, a tender smile creeping across my face when I saw Mia’s enraptured gaze peering at her newborn daughter.

After a few moments of quiet while Scarlett nursed, Mia said, “I know what you’re going through.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked in confusion.

“Aftermath. From your trauma.”

“How can you know about aftermath? Were you tortured? Did all your dreams go up in smoke?”

She looked up to meet my gaze. “No. Nothing like that. But I do know what it’s like to lose something important. And I know what it’s like to want revenge. Like you do.”

My blood ran cold as she stared at me, seeing below the surface.

“How do you—”

“Boxer.”

“He told you? After all that crap about Old Ladies not allowed to know anything about club business?”

“Boxer was losing his shit over what happened to you. I nagged him into confiding in me. Colt doesn’t even know that I know.”

I paused, digesting her words. “So you wanted revenge,” I repeated. “Did you get it?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because it didn’t happen that way for me.”

“Do you regret the outcome?”

“Every damn day,” she admitted quietly. “But I’ve learned to live with it.”

“How?”

“I didn’t have a choice.” She bit her lip, her brow furrowed in thought. “Boxer told me what you asked the club.”

“Are you going to try and talk me out of it?”

She shook her head. “No. I was going to tell you to look that fucker in the eye when you end him.”

My gaze widened.

“Boxer loves you, but you already know that. You wanting to carry this out…well, it proves to him you’re Old Lady material, through and through.”

“Should I feel guilty? About wanting to kill a man? Being what I am—a doctor who’s supposed to save lives?”

“Eye for an eye or turn the other cheek,” she said. “But if you ride with the Blue Angels, you know which one to choose. So no, Linden. Don’t feel guilty. Don’t feel guilty at all. And when you kill Dante, it won’t just be your revenge, but revenge for all his victims.”

A weight lifted off my heart. “Thanks, Mia.”

She smiled softly. “Grab yourself a cup of coffee. You’re dragging.”

I did as she suggested and then went to check in on South Paw who hadn’t left the hospital. He wouldn’t until he was driving us back to the cabins to wait for the Blue Angels to wrap up their business in Mexico.

My heart ached to hold Boxer, to touch him, to ensure he was alive. I missed his teasing presence, his masculine assurance that he would give me the moon if I asked for it. And then my mind began to turn over so many things.

Could a man be both a storm and a lighthouse? A danger and a safe haven?

Seeing Mia cradling her newborn daughter had changed me. It was the first birth I’d witnessed that was personal. Mia hadn’t been a patient. She was a friend, and she’d brought new life into this world.

I wanted that, I realized. I wanted a family. I wanted it all. The happiness, the devastation, the milestones, the ups and downs, and everything in between.

Something inside of me settled, a clarity that I’d been sorely lacking.

If I could never practice medicine again, a piece of me would die. But I’d find a way to be reborn. I’d find a way to give back, to contribute, to love something enough that would light up my soul and make life worth living again.

For the first time since being kidnapped, I felt hope.

Two days later, Mia and the baby were discharged from the hospital. Mia sat in the back seat next to Scarlett, who’d been strapped into a carrier that South Paw had run out to buy. And when we returned to the cabins, it was to tears and cheers. The kids clambered around Mia, wanting to get a peek at the new baby.

Darcy unscrewed a bottle of water and handed it to Mia. “Linden? Do you want a beer?”

“I’m good. I just want a shower.” I wrinkled my nose.

“I’ll wrap your hand,” Rachel offered.

After I showered, I towel dried my hair, marveling at how little I had to do with it. Though I liked what Darcy had done, I couldn’t wait to grow it out again. For me, long hair symbolized luxury. Decadence. Feminine beauty.

I wouldn’t let Dante take that from me.

The Old Ladies were waiting on Mia hand and foot, and she was protesting and laughing at their antics. “I’m fine, guys, really.”

“You’ve got an ice pack between your legs,” Rachel pointed out. “We’re more than happy to help you.”

Darcy grabbed me a beer before raising her own. “To Scarlett, the newest member of the pack.”

“To Scarlett,” the Old Ladies chimed and then downed their drinks—most of which were nonalcoholic.

Mia raised her bottle of water toward me. “To Linden. For being there every step of the way.”

“To Linden, the newest Old Lady,” Joni added.

“To Linden,” Rachel said with a smile, “who is now one of us.”

My throat constricted with emotion, and I raised my beer. “To you guys. My tribe.”

Crow had made a pulled pork with homemade coleslaw and potato salad for dinner. Even Lily, who was a picky eater, ate it with gusto.

“Where did you learn to cook this way?” I asked him.

“My mom owns a restaurant in New Orleans.”

The way he said New Orleans came out Nawlins, and it made me smile.

Rain began to fall, and we all bedded down with sleeping bags and air mattresses instead of returning to our separate cabins, all of us wanting to stay close to one another. Even the prospects came in. The infants woke up several times, needing to be fed and changed, but it wasn’t a disturbance. Most of us weren’t falling into a deep sleep; there was a collective emotion floating through the cabin, as if we were all tapped into the same consciousness, waiting for news about our family.

We got it in the middle of the night with the rumble of several motorcycles.

“They’re here,” Joni whispered.

I lifted myself off the couch. Crow and South Paw were already awake. One of them turned the lights on.

Darcy groaned and shielded her eyes. “A little warning next time.”

“The guys are home,” I said to her.

She instantly snapped to attention and got up, extracting herself from between her two kids that were sharing her queen-sized air mattress. She looked at her watch. “It’s four in the morning.”

“Better put on the coffee,” Allison said, wiping a hand across her tired face.

I went out onto the porch, wrapping my arms around myself to stay warm. The rumble of bikes became a roar. Even in the dark of the night, the cabin porch lights were bright enough to illuminate the Blue Angels’ faces.

I searched for Boxer and found him in the middle of the pack. He parked, cut off the engine to his motorcycle, and climbed off. I ran to him, my flip flops sinking into mud. I threw myself at him, and he caught me in the air. I breathed in the smell of him. The leather and oil, the scent of his skin from days on the road.

“You came back,” I whispered.

“Damn right I did,” he said, his mouth searching for mine. His tongue plunged between my lips, and we fused together like two souls reuniting.

When he pulled away, he stared into my eyes. “Not all of us came back, Linden.”

I stepped back and looked around. I saw Colt, Gray, Zip, Torque, and several of the Coeur d’Alene boys.

“Reap!” Rachel yelled, coming down off the porch. “Where’s Reap?” She ran a hand through her hair pushing it from her eyes as she searched for her husband.

“He was shot, Rach,” Colt began as he approached her. “He didn’t make it.”

“No,” she whispered. “No!”

She would’ve fallen to the ground if Colt’s strong arms hadn’t come around her. I immediately ran to her, but she pulled out of Colt’s embrace to face me.

“Get the hell away from me!” she screamed.

I halted.

She turned and sprinted up the porch steps, pushing between Darcy and Joni, and disappearing inside.

My heart broke for her.

The brothers’ faces were somber, and tears began to cascade down the cheeks of the Old Ladies. I looked to Boxer. “Who else,” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. Rachel’s heartache tore at me, splitting open the guilt I’d attempted to contain.

“Bishop, too.” Boxer said, tone bleak, and then he pitched his voice lower. “We got Dante. He’s out cold right now.” He gestured to the van that was parked behind the brigade of motorcycles.

“He came at a price,” I said quietly. “A terrible price.”

I flung myself into his arms again, wanting him to take away the pain, but I also wanted to take away his.

“Where’s my wife?” Colt asked gruffly.

“Inside with your newborn daughter,” Joni said. She’d moved from the porch to Zip and was now nestled in his side.

Colt looked shell-shocked. “My what?”

“Mia went into labor a few days ago,” I said. “I went with her to the hospital. Both mother and baby are doing fine.”

Colt paused and then dashed up the steps into the cabin.

“Fuck, I need a drink,” Zip muttered.

“Same,” Knight said. The president of the Coeur d’Alene chapter looked beaten and sad. He’d been close with his VP and their chapter suffered a great loss.

The men with children went inside to see them, leaving the rest of us to fend for ourselves.

Boxer and I headed to the pit where he lit a fire.

“She’s going to blame me,” I said when Boxer took a seat next to me.

Boxer drank from the bottle of bourbon and then handed it to me. “It had to be this way, Linden. We couldn’t let the cartel get away with kidnapping women and children, let alone going after one of our own. We knew there was a possibility of losing a brother. Losing several. But that was the risk we had to take.”

I took a sip from the bourbon bottle and then handed it back to him. “I know. I just—Christ. Reap didn’t deserve this. Neither did Rach. She’s pregnant, Boxer. How is she going to get through this?”

“She has us. And we’ll be there for her.” He paused for a moment. “He died in my arms.”

I closed my eyes.

“I held him as he took his last breath. The blood at his lips. The light leaving his eyes. He knew he was dying, and his last word was his wife’s name.” He lifted the bottle and took a hearty swig.

“Bishop?”

“Knife to the ribs by one of Dante’s men. Knight went apeshit. Like full on apeshit. I’ve never seen him that way.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing.

“So, Mia had her kid.”

“Yeah.”

“Of course she did.” He shook his head and downed more bourbon.

“Her name is Scarlett.”

“After Mia’s mother,” Boxer explained. “Thank God for a little bit of happiness in this shit storm called life.”

I hated that my friend was hurting. I hated that Reap and Bishop had died—even though it had been for a cause. I hated that it never seemed like things were going to get better.

“What happens now?” I asked. “With Dante?”

“First we drink. And then,” his expression was grim, “execution.”

* * *

One by one, the brothers joined us. Some of them sat on logs, others in camp chairs. We all drank as though booze could banish ghosts.

The prospects remained out front to guard the van that held Dante captive. The Old Ladies remained inside with the children, so at least there were no questions being asked.

We watched the flames flicker and dance in melancholic silence.

Even though Colt was a new father, he didn’t have the elation one would expect. Under the circumstances, I didn’t blame him. He paced back and forth, looking up at the clear sky every now and again. Finally, he took the empty chair next to me.

“Should I go inside?” I asked Boxer. “Leave you guys to talk?”

He shook his head and grasped my thigh. “Stay.”

I was glad. I didn’t feel comfortable going into the cabin and lending my support to Rachel. Not when I felt responsible for what had happened. I was sure the other Old Ladies would blame me, too.

“Thank you,” Colt said to me.

“For what?” I asked in surprise.

“Staying with Mia while she was in the hospital. And being there while she delivered. Fuck, I can’t believe I missed Scarlett’s birth.” He shook his head and hung his neck in shame.

“Stop,” Zip said. “All of you fuckers need to stop. That includes you, Linden.”

“Did you just call me a fucker?” I demanded.

“Yes,” he said. “You’re a fucker.”

“Brother,” Boxer began. “Do not make me fight you. I’m in no mood.”

“None of us are,” Zip said. “That’s the point. This shit with the cartel isn’t Linden’s fault. She’s a victim caught up in this bullshit. Reap and Bishop dying isn’t Linden’s fault.” He looked at me. “Do you hear me?”

I nodded slowly.

“Those bastards were taking women and children,” Knight seethed. “We did what needed to be done. We knew the risks. Reap and Bishop died for something real. So, we need to honor them the way they are meant to be honored.” He rose from his seat. “I was already a brother when Bishop was nothing more than a prospect hoping to patch in. He gave it his all. In everything he did. Some thought he was too young to be my vice president, but he proved them wrong. He carried the weight of responsibility with ease.”

Colt stood, a bottle in his hands. “Reap was a tough son of a bitch and as ruthless as they come. But he laughed from the belly and said fuck you to death. He lived free, loved hard, and there will be a piece of him left in this world with the birth of his child. I’m honored to call both Bishop and Reap my brothers.”

The president of the Coeur d’Alene chapter raised his bottle of bourbon in the air. “To our fallen brothers. Fucking heroes.”

“Fucking heroes,” the brothers chimed in unison.

And then we drank to the memory of good men.

* * *

After the informal eulogies, we left the cabins. The prospects stayed behind with the Old Ladies and children.

The sun was just creeping up when I hopped on the back of Boxer’s bike, a small bag slung across my shoulder. I wrapped my arms around him, and he drove us through the woods on a dirt road that no motorcycle belonged on.

A while later we came to a clearing. The brothers parked their bikes at the edge of the glade, and Acid cut the engine of the van. Colt and Knight ripped open the back doors of the vehicle and hauled Dante out by his arms, which were bound behind his back. A hood covered his head.

My torturer fell to the ground.

He’d once been formidable and terrifying. Now, his white silk shirt was stained with blood, the sleeves torn, and he was the one at our mercy.

Boxer walked toward Dante’s hooded form and gave him a boot to the ribs. Dante let out an enraged, surprised bellow.

Zip and Acid dragged Dante to his knees and ripped off his hood so Dante could finally see. Dante’s face was battered and bruised, his nose a jagged remnant of something that had once been handsome. It was shattered now.

But despite his situation, he smiled when he saw me.

“Princesa,” he greeted.

My heart drummed in my ears, and I was frozen to the spot.

Princess.

My blood stewed. Any fear or hesitation about what I was planning to do vanished with that single word.

The Blue Angels stood in a circle around Dante, but their eyes were on me. Their bodies were taut with tension, their fists clenched. I knew they wanted to mete out their own justice before ending Dante’s life, but they’d voted.

This was mine to do.

I set my shoulder bag onto the ground so I could pull out a small black pouch. I unzipped it to remove a syringe and a vial of clear liquid. Boxer came to my aid when he saw my struggle. He held the needle for me so I could pop off the cap before stabbing it in the rubber top on the glass vial. The syringe filled when I pulled back the plunger. I flipped the syringe over.

“Flick out the air bubbles,” I said quietly to Boxer.

Dante began to laugh. “What do you have there? Morphine?”

“Yes,” I lied.

“My little angel of mercy,” he crooned.

“Turnabout is fair play, don’t you think? You tortured me. They’re going to torture you.”

He began to fight against his ties, even though it was futile.

Boxer handed me the syringe and then marched forward to pummel a fist into Dante’s jaw. Dante’s face snapped to the side, and he groaned in pain.

“We can do this with or without the morphine,” I said to Dante. “They’ll rip you apart either way. Your choice.”

Dante spit blood onto the ground. No doubt Boxer had broken a few teeth with the force of his punch.

“Morphine,” Dante gritted out. “I’ll take the morphine.”

“So weak,” I tittered. “You almost take the fun out of breaking you.”

I looked down at the bag on the ground. Boxer immediately returned to me and leaned down to remove the band. He stalked back over to Dante and wrapped it around the upper part of his arm. A meaty vein popped from his flesh almost immediately.

My heart drummed in my chest as I stalked forward and stabbed the syringe into him, plunging the liquid into his vein. It took nearly thirty seconds for the potassium chloride injection to hit his system. His body seized and he gasped for air, but his heart wasn’t getting enough oxygen.

I wanted him to see me before he died, so I came around to face him. I smiled and said in Spanish, “Angel of mercy? Fuck you, I’m the Angel of Death. Enjoy hell, Dante.”

* * *

I stood at the edge of the lake and stared across its silverly, glittering surface. The afternoon sun rays bounced off the placid water, but I knew things lurked in the cool murky shadows beneath.

Everyone had left the cabins. Everyone except Boxer and me.

We were taking a few days for ourselves.

“Linden?” Boxer asked from somewhere behind me.

I took a deep breath. “He ruined so many lives,” I said after a long while of silence. “Rachel’s included.”

“Yeah, he did.”

“I don’t have any regrets.” I turned around and looked him in the eye. “But I’m feeling something. Something I’m not sure I have words for.”

Boxer nodded, his expression full of understanding. “I know.”

“Can I even call myself a doctor now?” It was a rhetorical question that no one could answer except me.

I looked up at the sky. It was a clear day. Not a cloud in sight. Perfect.

I shook my head. “Is life just about losing more and more pieces of yourself?”

“You find new ones, Linden.”

“Yeah, I guess you do.” I frowned. “I thought I’d feel different.”

“Different how?”

“Vindicated. I don’t feel that. Not right now, anyway. Maybe I will later, but for now…”

“Now, you’re just kind of living it, yeah?”

I nodded. “Processing. Making peace with who I am. Who I’ve become, I guess.” My brow furrowed. “I thought I’d be able to take a deep breath about it. I thought I’d feel a twinge of guilt. I’m not feeling either of those things. If I had to name what I’m feeling, I’d say it was grief. But I’m not mourning him or the loss of his life. Or even that I was the one to end it. I think, I’m just mourning everything I used to be…because I’m not that anymore.”

“No, you’re not,” he said slowly. “You’re something different. That’s okay, too.”

“Thank you,” I said to him.

“For what?”

“For loving me through all of this. For still wanting me.”

He came to me and cradled my cheek in his hand to stare deep into my eyes. “You’re my ride or die. I know that in my bones. I know you have the strength to be part of this life. Forever.”

Boxer leaned down and kissed me. “Ride or die with me through life, Linden.”

Sins of a King

I can’t breathe without him.

Playboy. Billionaire. Criminal.

I should hate him for what he’s done to me, but I’m powerless to resist him.

His touch engulfs me.

His demands conquer me.

But Flynn Campbell isn’t who I thought he was.

Suddenly, I’m thrust into a world of seduction and sin.

Ensnared by danger and power, foreign desires burn within me.

It's time to embrace the darkness...

And become a queen.