The restaurant parking lot was empty, a sign hung up in the window. Some excuse for the restaurant being closed. Right inside, right beyond the doors, Lena knew Victor was there. The simple thing would be to just give up Lena and send Victor packing. But Jett, Miller, and the guys knew how these situations went. They would become violent, bloody, and plagued with death.
The motorcycles came to a stop. A second later, the doors to the restaurant opened and out walked the two big guys from before. They were in tank top shirts, muscles galore, one of them with a bloody bandage on his shoulder.
“Stay here,” Jett said to Lena and he climbed off his motorcycle.
“Gentlemen,” Miller said. “Good to see you again.”
The two guys took out guns.
Miller put his hands up but Jett kept charging forward.
“You don’t come into this town,” Jett yelled. “You don’t fucking do this…”
Lena wasn’t sure what Jett’s intentions were, running at the big guys like he was. He didn’t stop until he was just a few inches away. One of the big guys swung his gun and smashed Jett in the mouth. He spun around. Lena gasped and climbed off the motorcycle.
Blaine grabbed her by the wrist. “Take it easy.”
“They want me,” Lena said. “I’ll go. This isn’t…”
“It’s not only about you. Hang tight.”
Jett turned and spit blood at the guy that just hit him. Both big guys then set their sights on Jett, hitting him until he dropped to his knees.
Lena didn’t know what the fuck was going on.
Was this punishment for Jett? For helping her?
Her question was answered a second later when she watched as one of the big guy’s heads exploded. Literally exploded. There was no sound from a gun… but it had to have been a bullet.
Lena lost her stomach and legs and started to fall. Blaine caught her and held her.
“It’s just us,” Blaine whispered. “We have someone taking shots. Relax.”
The other big guy quickly jumped away from Jett and let out a scream. Jett picked himself up and took a swing at the guy. One punch to the face sent the guy stumbling back into the door. He reached for the handle, fell forward, opened the door to the restaurant, and then finally collapsed to his knees.
Jett came forward again and lifted his knee to the guy’s face. He repeated the motion over and over, holding the guy’s hair. He kept going until Miller screamed his name, and then Jett stopped. He backed up and turned, giving Lena a sight that was kind of familiar to her.
A man with blood on him.
Jett looked right at her. There was fire in his eyes. An angry, raging fire. Rightfully so. Victor had come into Frelen to cause hell. And the guys in Back Down Devil MC were going to be the ones offering a dose of hell.
Miller gave a wave and Lena felt Blaine tighten his grip around her arm.
“Come with us,” he said. “Time to go inside.”
“I want Jett,” Lena said. “I…”
“You don’t get a fucking say,” Blaine said.
Lena made it a couple steps and then broke away from Blaine and ran toward Jett. Jett waited and wrapped his arms around her. He smelled of sweat and blood.
“Are you okay?” Lena asked.
“You need to listen to us,” Jett said.
“Enough of this shit,” Miller said. “We have to do this right now.”
Jett opened the door to the restaurant and led the way inside.
Lena trailed him and the rest of the MC guys followed. To Lena, there didn’t seem to be enough guys to do this. Like they weren’t taking Victor completely serious. It scared her. Unless there were other motives in mind.
The empty restaurant had a horror movie feel to it. The tables were all in place except for two that were near the kitchen doors. They were both tipped over, small broken vases on the ground, a container of salt broken, spilled across the floor like a small pile of snow.
As they walked toward the kitchen door, Jett stayed in the lead. “Angelo has his personal office in the back. It’s like a mini-apartment. That’s where he has to be.”
“If he fucking killed him…,” Miller growled. “I’m going to string that fucking punk up by his ankles.”
Lena flickered a smile. She’d love to see Victor hanging by his ankles.
“Miller, you should hang back,” Jett said. “You don’t need heat over this.”
“And you do? We do?” Miller asked.
Jett squeezed Lena’s hand tighter. “I know what this is like, Miller. What it means. I’ll take my cut off right now if it’s against…”
“Jesus Christ,” Gaige snapped. “We’re in this together, bro. Until the end. No matter what happens. Got it?”
Jett nodded. “Then we bust into the off-”
There was a sound behind the counter. A utensil hitting the floor.
Lena watched as everyone turned, lifting their weapons, all ready to blast the hell out of whatever was behind the counter.
“Stand up!” Jett bellowed. “Right the fuck now!”
“Please…” a voice said.
“Stand up!”
Lena watched as a woman slowly stood from behind the counter. She had her hands up, shaking. Her hair was black, messy, her face looking worn and terrified.
“Shit,” Jett said. “That’s Stacey. Angelo’s daughter.”
“Are you here to save Papa?” Stacey cried out.
They all approached the counter, guns still out, making sure there wasn’t an ambush in the making.