Play Dirty: Devil's Mustangs MC

Then, there’s a flash of light, a few pops of a gun, and then a burst of flames. I gasp in horror as I try to figure it all out. A body lies in the grass, not moving as more men from the Mustang’s side moves in. I know staying here isn’t a possibility. I pick up my phone and press the number that called me earlier.

I weave out of the alley and back into the street. A man spots me and points a gun towards my windshield. I drop the phone immediately, losing it between the leather seats of my car. I scream in a panic as I make my decision. I barrel my car into him as fast as I can, my car tires squealing and spinning as I rev up. This is my only defense. I have to do it.

His body hits with a loud bang, causing me to push hard on my breaks. I watch as he rolls over the hood of my car and falls to the side of my driver’s side wheel. I don’t stop to see if he is still alive or if I managed to kill him. I can’t risk him being able to pull that gun back out at me.

I just keep going and going. I’m practically making circles around the block, but I am dead focused on getting that girl out of there before something happens to her. Finally, I see a garage just outside of the clubhouse. It’s the only place I can get out of plain view and the line of fire.

My lights illuminate the driveway, the cement, and four black boots…I panic as I try to decide if I need to kill these guys, as well. One is aiming his gun at me, but the other isn’t. The other is someone familiar, someone I came to save. I don’t think. I don’t stop. I put the car in park and run out.

Cal spots me first, calling my name in the darkness, his hand to his head to make out my figure better. But before I can answer, there’s more gunfire. The top of the garage is hit and then a light near the other man’s head. Cal screams out as he runs towards me, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I’m here to save you and your daughter! Maddie called me! Where is she?” I grab onto his arms, both of us ducking behind the car. The other man fires back towards where the bullets are coming from.

“She’s safe. She’s inside. The Mustangs are holding the Coyotes off.” Another round of pops land in my windshield. He looks at me and places a hand to my face as if he can’t believe that I am real. “Michelle,” he says urgently, “I have to get you out of here. Now!”

“What about Maddie, Cal? We can’t leave her!” I want to slap him, to make him see I don’t need protecting. It’s her we need to be worried about.

The man next to Cal turns around and gestures wildly, “I’ve got Maddie and the rest of the girls. Go! Get the teacher out of here!”

Cal doesn’t need to think about it. He grabs my hand and opens the passenger side of the car, throwing me in and buckling my seatbelt for me. He runs to the other side and gets behind the driver’s seat. I throw the keys at him, and he starts it up instantly. The car purrs as he pulls out of the driveway and back into the alley from which I came.

I turn over my shoulder to see three men in our rearview mirror. They’re shouting something at us as they wave their guns over their head. A man fires, the glass of my back window flying, mixing on the floor of my car with the glass from the windshield. I scream uncontrollably as Cal pushes the car faster.

We manage to make it out of the neighborhood and back on a main street. Both of us are panting as we pull up to our first stop light. Cal turns left into an empty parking lot, turning off his car as both of us let out small, hurried gasps. It’s the first time either of us has had a moment to catch our breaths, to understand what just happened to both of us.

He turns to me, checking me. He places a hand to my face and I press my cheek into the warm, soothing palm. His fingers pull at something and I instantly recoil. When he pulls away, his hand is bloody and he holds a piece of glass for me to see.

I reach to my backseat and pull out an old sweatshirt. He places it to my head, holding it tight to the wound. He looks at me and gently says, “You’re going to be all right, Michelle. You’re going to be okay.”

I wrap my fingers around his wrist and lean my head’s weight into his hand. I believe him. I believe every word of it. As much as I don’t want to, I know he is real. He is my real savior, my protector. I need him just as much as I know he needs me.

I look up at him, my eyes catching his glittering in the mixture of the moon and the streetlight. I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out. I am lost, so lost. He lowers the sweatshirt and places his hand to my mouth. I kiss his fingertips, his palm, his wrist tenderly. My lips make a trail down to his wrist and up his arm until I have reached over the driver’s seat towards him.

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