For those interested, Code Blue is up for PreOrder on Amazon! CLICK HERE!
If you've yet to pick up the first book in this series of standalones about the Shadow Riders MC, Inflamed, CLICK HERE!
I apologize for such a long delay, but 2016 has been a ROUGH year and the last few months have been terribly hectic with many unexpected family things going on that I couldn't control, but I'm back now.
I haven't done a preorder for any of my books in about a year, but I've been asked so often about Code Blue since the release of Inflamed earlier this year that I thought it might be better to have a firm date set in place instead of one that I was hoping for (September). The release will be February 17, 2017. And just so you know, this book is even longer than Inflamed by a few thousand words. Blue's story and backstory really took me by surprise, as did his connection and bond with Roxy. They're two broken halves that came together and made each other whole and I really love how their relationship developed throughout the story. I also really loved Blue's story in general and though this is a romance, it really is HIS story, so he's going to have a chunk of the chapters! I'm so hoping you'll love reading it just as much as I loved writing it!
I do plan to send out ARCs for this book, but am waiting until closer to the release date to do so. The sign up sheet will be posted sometime in January on my Facebook page, so please be on the lookout for it!
You may not hear from me again until then while I do some editing and try to catch up on the sleep I've missed over the last few months, (as well as work on the next book in the Shadow Riders series!) so PLEASE take care of yourselves! This has been one heavy, heavy and hectic year and I'm... curious to see where 2017 will take us all.
BTW, did you miss the prologue and CODE BLUE WARNING?
Never fear, if so, check them out below! (I've made some adjustments if you've already read it, but nothing major that pertains to the plot!)
The opening to the book contains a HUGE SPOILER. If you'd rather not know what it is, PLEASE DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER THAN THIS. THANK YOU.
*FYI, the prologue is a flashback to eight years ago, though the events take place prior to Blue and River finding Mia outside of their club.*
Snake lowered his dark green eyes to the mutilated corpse at his feet, and gradually lifted his shoulder in a slight shrug. "I don’t know,” he told him, his normally even voice now dark and heavy; filled with only a minimal amount of regret regarding what he had just done. He gulped. “The shit wasn't supposed to go down like this," he said. "I..." He rattled his head and folded his arms over his chest, slid his hands beneath his armpits and took a deep breath in. "He just came flyin' up at me like a bullet straight from the muzzle of a goddamn gun--"
"More like the knife he's currently got stickin' outta his goddamn GUT thanks to you, asshole! FUCK!"
"That too." Snake curled his fingers into himself and grinded his teeth. "But I didn't have a goddamn choice in the matter," he said. "In Tiny’s own words, if it ever came down to me and another motherfucker, I'd be a pussy ass bitch not to defend myself against him. 'Specially one like this."
Blue shoved his brows together and soured. "You realize you just defended yourself against a motherfucker on his own goddamn property when you're the one who hopped his fuckin' fence--?"
"I ain't hopped shit!" he hollered out. Blue inhaled deeply, puffing out his chest as a single form of intimidation against this asshole. Snake suddenly grew quiet, realizing the massive difference in size between them, and took a giant step back. "I ain't hopped shit," he said again, his tone more even, calm. "I had the code to the gate--"
"The code--"
"Yeah. How the fuck else was I supposed to get inside the compound with my goddamn truck?" He tossed his thumb out behind him, then lowered his eyes back down to the body at his feet, and nodded. "Far as this shit goes, this motherfucker was supposed to be up at Lake Point with the other Bastards gettin' sucked off by their usual bitches before that annual pissin' contest took place. Tiny said that--"
He raised a hand to stop him from continuing on and curled his fingers inside his palm. "I don't give a goddamn about anything else that motherfucker told you tonight,” he said, “alright? Though I can only assume that he's been your access to the code."
"You'd be assumin' correctly, yeah. He sent LuAnn out here a few weeks ago to infiltrate these assholes. She offered herself up to ‘em as ‘new club pussy’ and after suckin’ a few cocks, one of ‘em let her know what was up.”
"Shit." Blue dragged a hand down his face and dug his fingers past the thickness of his beard and directly into the skin of his jaw. "That asshole continues to set your ass up for failure and you fall right into his trap each and every goddamn time! What the fuck were you even doin' out here tonight?!"
He shrugged again. "Handlin' business."
"What the fuck kinda business you gotta handle all the way out here, asshole? And with these motherfuckers?!"
"Some shit for Tiny."
"Like what?!" he snapped. “We both know good and goddamn well that son of a bitch has hated Chaos since the minute they formed, and we both know why.”
Snake shook his head and turned away. "It was just some shit."
"Yeah, just some shit that damn near got your ass killed for the second time in a goddamn month." He narrowed his eyes and leaned his head. "What the hell were you thinkin' bringin' your ass out to Tacoma without any motherfuckin' back-up? Rules of the club when hoppin' jurisdictions are put in place for a goddamn reason, dumbass -- Tiny ain't remind you of that shit 'fore he lured your ass out here under the guise of 'business'?! Not havin' a motherfucker ride shotgun to help you take out every cam surroundin' this place first was a dumb fuckin' move."
"I know the rules of the club," he told him. "I just wasn't thinkin'--"
"No shit, motherfucker. Your lack of 'cognitive thinkin' skills' was made pretty goddamn clear the minute I saw your name pop up on my cell at a quarter past midnight! 'Cause had you in fact been usin' that big 'ole brain God gave you for more than figurin' out ways to get sucked off back at the club, there wouldn't be a single motherfuckin' reason for me to be out here tonight helpin' your stupid ass clean this shit up!"
"Who the fuck else was I supposed to call when you're the Sergeant at fuckin' Arms?!"
"SGT for the goddamn president, you stupid son of a bitch -- somethin' of which you ain't!" He turned on his heel and thrusted a finger in his face. Snake dropped his arms and took another step back as his head jerked away from Blue in fear. "Matter of fuckin' fact, you keep fuckin' up like this and askin' HOW HIGH each time that fat motherfucker tells you to jump, you won't make it another goddamn year with the Riders as an official, cut wearin' member." Blue turned his eyes back to the body and grinded his teeth. "When you pull shit like this, you're makin' me regret even vouchin' for your ass the way I did -- when I fuckin' did."
"You didn't have a goddamn choice in that shit," he spat. Blue glanced at him from the corner of his eye and snarled. "'Sides, you know I needed this shit just like you did, brother -- needed this club to save my goddamn life just like it saved yours... And the life of your old man before motherfuckers like this one took him out. Remember?"
Blue shoved his brows together and glared. "I ain't in the mood for this shit tonight of all nights, asshole. And not out here with you--"
"Come on, brother,” he interjected, his tone chalked with disbelief. “You can't tell me none of that shit crossed your mind before you pulled up. Shit, I'm shocked you were even calm enough to make the drive out here."
"What the fuck were you expectin' me to do once I saw this motherfucker laid out?" he asked. "Dance a goddamn jig over his body?"
"Maybe," he replied. "Least you coulda done was said you were proud as shit of--"
"What, asshole?! You guttin' this half-sacked, piece of shit motherfucker who looks as if he could barely slap the ass of a goddamn pig – let alone take you on?" He narrowed his eyes and made a face. "Are you shittin' me right now?"
"No," he answered. "And look, I know you've always been fond of Chaos club pussy when it makes its way up to Crescent Beach, but--"
"That ain't got shit to do with it."
"Then why give a fuck that one of these motherfucker's has finally been taken out?"
"'Cause this motherfucker ain't got no goddamn reason to be DEAD!"
"They ALL got a goddamn reason to be dead if you ask me!" Snake hollered back.
"But ain't nobody asked you shit about it, you stupid fuckin' prick!" he snapped.
Snake fiercely shook his head and peered. "You know what, I don't get you," he told him. "You of all people should be wrappin' your hands around that cross hangin' from your goddamn neck and screamin' out halle-fuckin'-lujah's right about now, and instead you're chastisin' me for takin' this fucker out? Not cool, brother," he said. "I slugged this motherfucker with his own blade right in front of his own goddamn club..." He threw his arms out to either side of himself and glanced down at the blood stained gravel beneath his feet, and smirked. "Probably took him out in the same spot their Prez lit up your old man like some kinda firecracker on the Fourth of July. Shit, for all we know we could still be walkin' on the soot from that night."
Blue took a long, slow deep breath in to keep from spewing shit he knew he'd regret, and slid his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He swallowed hard and flared his nostrils again, then leaned his head back and exhaled. "You don't wanna go there with me, asshole. I told you before, tonight of all nights ain't it. 'Specially when I've yet to have a bitch on my cock to relieve the stress you keep bringin' on by bein' such a dumbass--"
"I'm a dumbass who's also tellin' you the truth about why tonight should be a blessin' for you instead of a goddamn curse." He turned to look Blue directly in the face and squared his feet. "These Chaos bastards forced you to stand and watch as they gutted your old man the same way I did this asshole tonight, remember?"
Blue locked his jaw tight, clinched his teeth and gulped. He lowered his eyes to the gravel and knit his brows as the memory of his old man flashed in his mind like a burned photograph.
"They threw him at your feet like he was nothin' but trash -- shit stained on the bottom of your goddamn shoe," said Snake. "And even knowin' that he was dead as shit, still shoved a gun to the back of your skull and a blade against the front of your throat 'til you bled, and forced you to blast him right between the goddamn eyes." He moved in even closer to his brother and grimaced. "Nothin you say will erase how they stripped him 'til he was down to nothin'... won't erase how they held you back as they poured gasoline over his bare skin. Then handed you the match to light him up." He stopped to swallow as Blue's cheeks flushed burgundy. "I know you wanna forget all that shit for the sake of your sanity," he told him. "I get that shit -- I can fuckin' feel it. But...." He placed a hand on Blue's shoulder and squeezed down hard. "For the sake of me and mine? I can't do that shit, brother. I won't." He wagged his head. "Your old man didn't just belong to you anymore. Didn't belong to me." He waited a moment and sighed. "He belonged to every member of the Shadow Riders the minute we all patched in, and always will." He redirected his attention toward the body on the ground. "This asshole might not be the proper retribution for that shit, but in my eyes, it's a good goddamn start."
"It ain't shit." Blue jerked his shoulders, forcing Snake to drop his hand, and moved closer to the body. He gazed across the bruises on that dead motherfucker's face and neck, then lowered his eyes to the blood spilling out from his stomach and onto the ground. He nodded. "What'd the hell you do with his cut?" he asked.
"Wasn't wearin' one."
He dropped his head back in agitation and faced the sky. "You're shittin' me, asshole."
"He was wearin' a black tee, jeans and was fuckin' barefoot--"
"Then how the fuck can you even be sure that this asshole was an official member of Chaos like you're assumin' him to be?"
"Check the tats inside his right arm." He pointed. "First one shows three bars with a fresh strike through it, which means he was just patched in. One right beneath it is a streak of fire, their emblem. He's probably got Raging Bastards of Chaos shit written all over his back just like the rest of 'em."
"You sure he was the only motherfucker left on the compound?"
"Yeah."
"You sure you're fuckin' sure?"
"Yeah brother, I'm fuckin' sure as shit."
Blue stared at his face for a long while, unsure of himself, and nodded. "Alright." Then he dragged his eyes up to the set of cameras hanging down from each corner of the club, and glowered. "Since you didn't manage to shoot this shit up before wailin' on this asshole, did you at least bust out the equipment in Big D's office and remove the tapes?"
"Every last one of 'em just before you showed up," he answered. "Took a piss in his chair like a mutt too, for good luck."
"Yeah, too bad that asshole wasn't on the ground with his mouth wide open when you did." He turned back to the body and sighed. "How old do you take this motherfucker to be?"
Snake wrinkled his nose and soured. "Twenty somethin'? Not too much older than me, I guess, but I don't fuckin' know -- who gives a shit?"
Blue didn't, despite asking, despite knowing where he belonged and why; though there was a part of him, small enough to barely be seen, that felt like he should have, that felt like he almost did.
"We tossin' him in the truck?" asked Snake.
"No. We gotta make sure there ain't a single trace of us even bein' here tonight since you fucked up whatever 'business' shit you claimed to have. These assholes even find out we stepped foot back in Tacoma, let alone back on their unguarded compound, and we're fucked up the ass with every lead pipe known to mankind."
"Shit, if that's the case, we got no choice but to burn the place down to nothin' but ashes."
Blue made a face and opened his hands. "What?"
"We send this place up in smoke, ain't nobody ever gonna know we were here."
"They're gonna know somebody was here, dumbass," he shot back, "that somebody fucked up one of their newest members -- maybe even as a goddamn cover up or some shit."
"But they ain't gonna know it was us." He placed his hands on either side of his waist and lifted the corner of his mouth into a half hearted grin. "All the enemies these motherfuckers got around here just for bein' the wrong color, they're fucked as it is," he told him. "So no way they're gonna trace this shit back to the Riders -- no way, no motherfuckin' how. We rot it to the ground, get off scot-free, Prez and VP never find out a goddamn thing."
"They didn't know 'bout you bein' out here tonight?"
"Not unless you said somethin' to 'em before headin' out. I know River's often got a spotlight shinin' on your ass anytime you make a move without him--"
He shrugged. "I never said shit to him or Wolf 'fore I bounced out. But how can you trust that Tiny's gonna be the same goddamn way and keep his fat ass mouth shut?"
Snake blinked once and swallowed hard. "I can't. But I can promise you that if shit goes down about it, you won't be the one takin' the fall for it."
"'Preciate that, brother, but..." Blue eyed him up and down and peered. "You not spillin' the kinda business that asshole wanted you to 'handle' out here tonight still ain't sittin' right with me."
"Wasn't a big goddamn deal," he replied, his tone careless despite showing a hint of agitation. "Which is why none of this shit was supposed to go down like it did – like I told you it wasn’t. Now look." He pointed behind him. "I've gotta couple of tin barrels of gasoline wastin' time in the bed of my truck, and--"
"Hold on. What the fuck are you doin' drivin' around the goddamn city with barrels of gasoline?"
"For times like this, motherfucker. Or for when Miranda's lookin' to suck me off on the side of the road. Bitch had my cock so far deep down her goddamn throat last night, I forgot the engine was still runnin'." He snickered. "I know it's only been a few weeks since we first met, but she's lookin' more and more like Old Lady material every day with that shit; on top of cookin' and cleanin' up my house even when I don't ask her to or I'm too busy rollin’ out random pussy back at the club." He paused. "Hell, maybe you could even be my best man at the weddin' when all this shit's said and done -- bein' the one to introduce us and all like you did."
"Yeah." He slightly rolled his eyes and sighed. "Listen, you still ain’t mentioned any of that shit to the brothers, correct?"
"Mentioned what?"
"How I introduced you two, or why."
“No. You threw it out there when it happened and I respect that shit. I ain’t never said another word about it since – not to anybody in or outta the club.”
“Good.”
Snake slowly bobbed his head and slapped him on the arm, then moved behind the bed of his truck and unlatched the door. After climbing up top and ripping off the tarp covering the barrels, he slid each one toward the edge of the bed and slammed his hand on top. "We pour both of these throughout that place." He looked over at the club and snapped his fingers. "Shit'll go up like a firebomb before we even make it off the property."
"That ain't what we're wantin'," he told him. "We don't wanna go up along with it."
"No shit, asshole," said Snake. "But it's what we're gonna need in order to make it the fuck outta here at all." He shoved the barrels even closer to the edge and nodded.
Blue swallowed hard, then hesitantly moved over to the bed, and with both hands, lifted each barrel from the truck and sat them on the ground. After slapping his hands together and dusting his palms, he turned back to the club and dropped his shoulders. "Shit."
"What?"
He pointed his head near the body and groaned. "This motherfucker. We gotta roll him inside, prop him up somewhere or some shit. We leave him out here, there ain't a point to doin’ any of this."
"I'll snatch him up. You bring in the barrels."
Snake jumped from the bed of the truck, seeming more eager than he should've with regard to what was soon to take place, and raced over to the dead motherfucker on the ground. He wrapped a hand around the back of his head and without a single ounce of compassion, sank the tips of his fingers into the man's scalp, tightened his grip around his hair and lifted him up from the ground. And with as much ease as it took to lift a baby elephant, he dragged him inside the club and tossed him in the corner of the room.
"I must be one helluva goddamn idiot to even think of goin’ along with this shit… Fuck."
"Just set 'em down right there," hollered Snake from across the room as he struggled to prop up that dead motherfucker in a chair against the wall.
As Blue's eyes roamed the place from one corner to the other, the familiarity of his surroundings began to creep inside his mind and he realized that despite so much changing about it, at least on the inside, even more of it had managed to stay the same. The front room catering to bitches and the brothers was still dark, dank and musty, smelling of shit, pussy and mildew, and looked like it hadn't been touched by a woman, outside of her handprints against the walls, for more than a decade. The floors were sticky, as if they had been covered in liquid candy, while the pool table looked like it was covered in something that was once inside of somebody else. The bar was stocked, but everything was open and half empty; the ceiling was dripping with what felt like water but smelled like piss. Pigs couldn't have had it any better than these assholes and they could barely manage to give a flying fuck about it all.
"Brother. Just set 'em down right there," Snake said again, pointing at the barrels.
Blue placed them near the door and removed his cut, setting it on top of one of them, and then soured. "What the hell are you doin’?" he asked Snake. "Throw that motherfucker on the ground and strip him down to nothin' but his dick."
He laughed aloud and threw a hand across his stomach. "You sure?"
"Yeah. I figure if we're goin' out, we may as well go out like the couple of well-bred motherfuckers that we are."
He nodded and did as told.
Blue dragged his palm back and forth across the center of his chest, then took another look around the room and asked in a curious tone, "Hey, uh... where'd you find Big D's office? In the back?"
He pointed behind him. "Straight back, then make a sharp right turn and you'll find his door cracked open with the smell of piss leadin' the way."
"Yeah, yours and every other motherfucker residin' in this place." Blue laughed to himself as he headed back, and within less than a few seconds, located that cracked door. As he placed his hand at the center of it, a flood of memories suddenly overwhelmed the absolute hell out of him, forcing him to shut his eyes and gulp. "Shit." He sighed. "You can do this shit, motherfucker, don't punk out now like some kinda pussy that ain't seen cock in over a goddamn decade." After a few seconds of psyching himself up, he pulled back and wrapped two fingers around the cross hanging from the chain around his neck. "You can do this shit, for your old man, for you and the club."
When he finally opened his eyes, he blew out a wad of hot air and said a prayer for himself, then shoved the door back and stepped inside.
"Je. Sus. Christ." He arched his brows in shock as he looked from one side of the room to the other. "Holy fuckin' shit." Every monitor linked to the setup of cameras placed outside had been completely destroyed with the help of a few bullets, possibly the edge of the half broken chair sitting in the corner of the room, and what looked like a baseball bat laying in a puddle of blood and piss near the desk. After a few seconds of taking it all in, he smiled to himself and chortled. "Holy. Fuckin'. Shit."
As he made his way further inside the room, ignoring the sound of glass crunching beneath the heels of his boots, he eyed a wall of mugshots with each one belonging to both current and former members of the Raging Bastards of Chaos, and quickly dropped that grin; because at the very top of the shots near the ceiling was the face of founder and one time president of the club, Luther 'Rough Neck' Townsend.
It had been one hell of a long ass time since he had come face to face with that motherfucker, or rather face to cock since he had him on his knees with the muzzle of his favorite gun shoved deep down his throat. But even then as he stood in that room and stared into his eyes all over again as they hung high up on that wall, he still had the urge to take him out in the same way he had all those years ago; the urge to blow his brains across the gravel the same way he was forced to do to his old man -- the urge to string him up by a lamppost just a few feet from Chaos, and leave him dangling there for his brother to find when he returned.
And when he finally did...
"Eye for a fuckin' eye," is what Big D heard the minute he walked into that very same office back then and found a lowly Shadow Riding prospect named Anthony DaSilva taking up space in a grown man's chair. Motherfucker didn't even bother running -- didn't even bother to try. He wanted to be found -- needed it like he needed to breathe in the same air as the assholes he knew would be coming for him next, without question.
But in that moment, Big D surprised the hell out of him by tossing a 'congratulations' and 'job well done' in his direction instead for taking care of what he knew he could never bring himself to do on his own: permanently remove his brother from the head of Chaos' throne. When he showed him his hand, crinkled his eyes and nodded his head, Anthony knew right then and there exactly where he would soon belong within the rankings of his own club, and why.
As he stood up and took Big D's hand into his own, they made an agreement on the spot: The Shadow Riders would keep their fingers, noses and cocks out of all things Raging Chaos business from here on out, allowing them to fully own the streets of Tacoma and expand their territory beyond if need be, though Crescent Beach would go untouched. Pussy every now and then was an option. In return, Rough Neck's murder would instantly become a cold case for the Feds.
It was the first and only deal he had ever made with an actual member from another club with regard to his own; a deal he made alone, without backup, as a mere prospect who had jumped jurisdictions with the intent to kill and be killed. And until the day he took his last breath, he had planned to make good on his word. Unfortunately, he never counted on Tiny being such a self-righteous, self-serving prick. And more than that, never counted on a motherfucker like Snake, his own goddamn recruit, being the one to finally clip his wing and become the potential reason behind an almost guaranteed downfall.
"Yo." Blue turned on his heel and arched a brow as Snake stood in the doorway. "Motherfucker's spread out like a goddamn eagle in the center of the club. For shits and giggles, I flipped him on his stomach and stuck a joint up his ass."
He rattled his head and pointed. "Let's just get this shit over with."
As they headed back out into the club, Blue grabbed his cut and slid it back on, then unscrewed the lid from one of the barrels and splashed as much gasoline as he could across the floor and bar before returning to the hallway and lining the edges of Big D's office.
"Sorry it came down to this shit, brother," he muttered. "But if I'm willin' to live by the code of my club, I gotta be willin' to die by it too."
When he heard Snake calling out to him, he raised his head to look out the door, and noticed another one at the opposite end of the hallway leading to what looked like a spare room. He lifted the barrel to his ear and shook it a bit to see just how much gas had been left inside, then made his way down the hall and reached out for the knob.
"YO!"
He pulled back when Snake called out to him for a second time and shook his head, then poured what was left of the gas near the edge of the door. Once the barrel was completely empty, he stepped back, wrapped his fingers around his cross again and raced back down the hallway.
Snake moved over to the door leading to the front of the club and placed his barrel just outside.
"Coverin' our tracks, motherfucker. Pour as much as we can outside as a 'just in case'."
"Hm."
After yanking a box of matches from the inside of his cut, Snake handed a few over to Blue and grinned. Hesitantly, he clutched them between his fingers and stared down at the bright red tip of each.
"We live by the code, we die by it together, brother," said Snake.
"Not today we don't," he shot back. "'Cause if my ass gets charred for this shit -- my beard catches even the hint of anything but ash or even pussy tonight --"
"I won't light up shit out here 'til I see your giant ass flyin' back down the hallway and outta the club, alright?" he snapped.
Blue glared at him and nodded. "Yeah, alright."
After Snake threw a hand into his back, he headed back down the hallway and stared down at either end. Then he looked down at his own goddamn feet, closed his eyes and said another prayer.
"This is for you, old man," he mumbled to himself. "If you weren't already dead thanks to my bullet, you'd probably kill me for this shit. But…” After striking three matches against the base of the wooden frame, Blue stepped back and dropped the matches where he stood. Within seconds, flashes of orange and red exploded from one side of the hallway down to the other, forcing Blue to fall back onto his ass. "SHIT!"
The minute Snake saw his head bounce against the floor, he dropped the matches from his hand and ran up to drag Blue away from the flames. "If we don't get the hell outta here, the only code we'll be dyin' by is the one belongin' to these motherfuckers," he hollered out in a panic. As the fire burned throughout and smoke clouded the ceiling, Snake slid his hands beneath Blue's arms and yanked him up from the floor. "Come on--!"
"Hold on!" Blue let out a string of coughs and jerked away from him. He slammed his hand into his own chest a few times, then turned his attention over to the bare ass body in the middle of the floor and bobbed his head. "Light it up," he said.
His eyes went wide as the sudden fear of death began to overwhelm him. "This place is gonna blow any goddamn second--!"
"YOU PULLED ME INTO THIS SHIT, ASSHOLE!" Blue pointed directly in his face, forcing him to drop back. "The only way I'm gonna be able to pull the both of us out of it is if you light up this motherfucker just like you said you would. Burn it to the ground?" He turned back to the body and waved his hand. "Then by all means, burn this shit to the goddamn ground."
Snake glanced over Blue's shoulder, watching as the flames from the hallway began to creep past corners and into the front of the club. With a rattling hand, he reached inside his cut again and grabbed another set of matches. "Alright -- just get to the goddamn door," he told him.
Once there, Blue watched as Snake dragged a set of six matches against the edge of the pool table and tossed them to the floor. As an orange flare sparked around the body and seared the tips of Snake’s shoes, Blue jetted forward and slammed a hand into back of his cut, then yanked him from the club and outside.
After tossing him across the yard, he reached behind himself and snatched that barrel of gasoline from the ground. "How many of those matches you got left?" he asked.
Snake peeked over his shoulder and glared at him, then reached down for the box, which had slipped from his hand and to the ground, and counted what was left inside. "Three."
"Alright." Blue turned the barrel on its head and poured every last drop of gasoline onto the ground. Then he tossed the barrel inside the club, snatched the matches from Snake's hand and swiped them against the side of the box. As the fire blazed even higher near the bar and liquor, he pulled the matches back from his face and turned his eyes to the club. "Light it up." With a quick bounce of his hand and the flick of each finger, he tossed the matches in one by one and stood back to watch as the flames engulfed every last piece of wood left inside.
Snake moved in beside him and draped an arm around his neck, pulling him in. "Shit’s like a dream come true," he told him.
"Or like a motherfuckin’ nightmare that I just might have to kill you for, should that shit ever come to pass."
“What shit?”
“Your shit, asshole. And whatever the fuck you were actually doin’ out here tonight ‘business’ wise,” he said.
“I told you it didn’t mean a goddamn thing--”
“Yeah, and I shit through my goddamn dick,” he spat.
They stared at each other for what felt like forever, wondering what the hell the other was truly thinking and why, until Snake finally broke contact with him and looked over at his truck.
"We should get the hell outta here.”
As he turned, Blue wrapped a hand around his arm and jerked him back. He squeezed down hard until he felt his bone, and looked directly into his shifty, dark green eyes. "No breathin' a word of this shit to Tiny."
Snake locked his jaw and drew his brows together in ire. "I told you I wouldn't--"
"I need your word on that shit, motherfucker. In plain, goddamn English."
"You've got my goddamn word, asshole." He ripped his arm from his hand and stepped back to readjust his cut. "What about you?" he asked. "River and Wolf?"
"Same damn thing."
As flames shot out from the roof of the building, each man raced to his truck, dodging ashes and sparks of fire along the way, and started up his engine. Blue waved Snake ahead, then peeked in his rearview mirror and watched as the flashing red Raging Chaos sign sitting high above the building tumbled from the roof and crashed straight to the ground.
As it burst into flames at the foot of the door, a jolt of lightning shattered throughout Blue's body, leaving him a frozen block of ice behind the wheel.
“Jesus--”
"YO!" Snake slammed on his breaks and threw his head out of the window. "You comin' or am I gonna have to carry your ass back to Crescent Beach like a bitch?"
Blue tossed out his hand and waved him on again, then sped right through the opened gate and past Snake. As he gripped the wheel, sweat poured from his temples, down each side of his face and onto the collar of his cut.
No matter what came of that night or why, Anthony DaSilva knew he was a dead man walking.
It was only matter of time.
If you've yet to pick up the first book in this series of standalones about the Shadow Riders MC, Inflamed, CLICK HERE!
I apologize for such a long delay, but 2016 has been a ROUGH year and the last few months have been terribly hectic with many unexpected family things going on that I couldn't control, but I'm back now.
I haven't done a preorder for any of my books in about a year, but I've been asked so often about Code Blue since the release of Inflamed earlier this year that I thought it might be better to have a firm date set in place instead of one that I was hoping for (September). The release will be February 17, 2017. And just so you know, this book is even longer than Inflamed by a few thousand words. Blue's story and backstory really took me by surprise, as did his connection and bond with Roxy. They're two broken halves that came together and made each other whole and I really love how their relationship developed throughout the story. I also really loved Blue's story in general and though this is a romance, it really is HIS story, so he's going to have a chunk of the chapters! I'm so hoping you'll love reading it just as much as I loved writing it!
I do plan to send out ARCs for this book, but am waiting until closer to the release date to do so. The sign up sheet will be posted sometime in January on my Facebook page, so please be on the lookout for it!
You may not hear from me again until then while I do some editing and try to catch up on the sleep I've missed over the last few months, (as well as work on the next book in the Shadow Riders series!) so PLEASE take care of yourselves! This has been one heavy, heavy and hectic year and I'm... curious to see where 2017 will take us all.
BTW, did you miss the prologue and CODE BLUE WARNING?
Never fear, if so, check them out below! (I've made some adjustments if you've already read it, but nothing major that pertains to the plot!)
_______________________________________________________________________
The opening to the book contains a HUGE SPOILER. If you'd rather not know what it is, PLEASE DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER THAN THIS. THANK YOU.
*FYI, the prologue is a flashback to eight years ago, though the events take place prior to Blue and River finding Mia outside of their club.*
"...it was hard, it was nasty, it was angry and gritty... it was us."
WARNING:
This book breaks all the rules put in place for traditional romance.
Lying. Cheating. Stealing. Tons of swearing and death.
It shows the uglier, more unpleasant side of being part of an MC.
No kittens. Bunnies. Flowers, hearts or candy.
No roses and barely even sanity.
It shows how hurt, pain, betrayal and death can haunt the ever loving sh!t out of the living.
It's gritty. Raw. Nasty. Angry. Over the top and in your face salacious.
It will snatch you from your comfort zone.
It will offend you. It will disgrace you.
It will chew you up, spit you out and ask that you still have more.
It'll be too much for some and not enough for others.
It makes no apologies and pulls no punches.
If you think you can you handle all of that and then some?
Read on.
WARNING:
Though CODE BLUE is complete with an HEA, it's also the second in a series of standalones featuring various members of the Shadow Riders MC. Therefore it is recommended that you read the first book, INFLAMED in order to lessen any amounts of confusion you may have as a reader regarding various characters and situations.
Now with that being said, if you *have* read INFLAMED and were not a fan, then I'm telling you now that CODE BLUE will most *definitely* not be for you. Not even a little bit, not even slightly, so it'd be in your best interest to stay away. Because I didn't hold back in this book nor did I tone it down. In fact, I think I pushed myself past my own limits and boundaries and went just a touch further with various characters and certain situations. So if you've read the first book, then you know by now that Blue is mouthy, much more misogynistic and crude than River or any of the other brothers could've ever thought of being. He has a filthy, filthy, filthy mouth with regards to sex and women, and he makes no apologies for it.
Overall, there is still a whole lotta swearing, violence and sex. I don't exaggerate in penning these warnings for readers and I don't sugarcoat these reads for any reason. So yes, there are F-bombs in nearly every other word, yes these men talk about sex A LOT, and yes you may be offended by the general content and characters. However, that's the story at hand and the one I've chosen to tell. I love these men to bits, but let's face it, they're straight up criminals and no amount of fantasy writing is going to allow me to pretend otherwise with these stories. So what you see is what you get from these reads; which are dark, gritty, raw, nasty, in your face, crazy out there, as un-PC as you can possibly get and more importantly, unapologetic in how they're written. I pull zero punches with the characters, content, language and overall story. Therefore, if you cannot read past the sample pages, if the constant use (and in some cases over usage) of 'bitch', 'whore', 'pussy', 'cunt', 'tits' or any other vitriolic term used when objectifying women and their bodies gets under your skin or just downright pisses you off, then by all means, put this book down and walk away *IMMEDIATELY*. This story, these characters and this world is certainly not meant for everyone and in truth, it isn't meant to be. So again, PLEASE TAKE TIME TO READ SAMPLE PAGES BEFORE DOWNLOADING.
The book will be told in first person via Roxy's POV and third person for Blue.
And please be aware that this is an IR (BWWM Romance).
Thank you.
Code Blue: A Shadow Riders MC
About the Book:
"That piece of sh!t motherf#$ker ain't ever gonna love you the way you wanna be loved, baby; from inside that big goddamn heart you've got -- straight down to that slick, sweet spot right between those f#$kin' thighs. And I know this sh!t for a fact. I know it for a single goddamn fact that as much as you might try and deny it, as much as you might try and pretend that every goddamn thing we've done up to this point don't matter for the sake of your sanity and a relationship that don't mean sh!t, there ain't never gonna be another motherf#$ker on God's green earth that's gonna love you as hard as I can... love you as hard as you're gonna need -- as hard as you f#$kin' deserve... love you like the goddamn queen you are 'til the end of f#$kin' time."
Two shattered hearts formed one unbelievably solid bond.
From the minute he was patched into the Shadow Riders MC, Anthony 'Blue' DaSilva had only ever been tasked with caring about these things: His club. His booze. P*ssy. And his bike. But since being appointed VP by his best friend and current club president, Jacob 'River' Hawkins, he's now been tasked with making sure his fellow brother doesn't die thanks to jealous and angry members from within, and outside of the club. It doesn't seem like too difficult of a task for the former Sergeant-At-Arms considering he's always been quick on his feet and even quicker with his gun. But when things get too far out of control one night and tragedy strikes a fellow member, he's forced to make a decision that could not only bring more unwanted grief to the club, but unwanted grief upon himself.
Roxanne Townsend never wanted much from life, aside from finding various ways to get the hell out of the one she had been forced into living from the time she was a child. Born and raised in the Raging Bastards of Chaos, she saw the ugliest parts of MC life, parts that included losing her father, and former president of the club, at the hands of another when she was just five years old. Now at twenty-seven, she's determined as hell to break free, refusing to continue swimming in a life that's done nothing but attempt to drown her in a black hole. Unfortunately it's when things start looking up for her that the past comes calling in the form of a one-time enemy. The Shadow Riders need help from her uncle, current president of the Raging Bastards. And lacking the good fortune of her mother to get out while she still can, she somehow finds herself in the middle of a pending war.
When she meets Blue, all internal hell breaks loose. He's someone she can talk and relate to. Someone who listens and understands. He makes her feel whole again, makes her laugh and see that some parts of the MC life are not as bad as she's always known. But things aren't always what they seem on the surface, and what starts as pure friendship becomes an uncontrollable lust; what grows from that lust turns into an undying need, and insatiable kind of love. One so heart-wrenchingly enduring that once the lies, deceit and betrayal plaguing what they've built become exposed, is bound to destroy one of them forever, or kill them both together.
Dedication:
To anyone who's ever found true love, been through it and managed to come out even stronger on the other side of it all... this book is for you.
Tacoma Beach, Florida
PROLOGUE
Eight years earlier…
PROLOGUE
Eight years earlier…
"Jesus goddamn Christ." Blue ran a set of shaky fingers through the thick curls of his jet black hair, then looked over at his brother and knit his brows. As the whites of his dark brown eyes flashed bright red, his nostrils flared and his breathing heightened. "What the entire fuck were you thinkin' with this shit, asshole?" he growled.
Snake lowered his dark green eyes to the mutilated corpse at his feet, and gradually lifted his shoulder in a slight shrug. "I don’t know,” he told him, his normally even voice now dark and heavy; filled with only a minimal amount of regret regarding what he had just done. He gulped. “The shit wasn't supposed to go down like this," he said. "I..." He rattled his head and folded his arms over his chest, slid his hands beneath his armpits and took a deep breath in. "He just came flyin' up at me like a bullet straight from the muzzle of a goddamn gun--"
"More like the knife he's currently got stickin' outta his goddamn GUT thanks to you, asshole! FUCK!"
"That too." Snake curled his fingers into himself and grinded his teeth. "But I didn't have a goddamn choice in the matter," he said. "In Tiny’s own words, if it ever came down to me and another motherfucker, I'd be a pussy ass bitch not to defend myself against him. 'Specially one like this."
Blue shoved his brows together and soured. "You realize you just defended yourself against a motherfucker on his own goddamn property when you're the one who hopped his fuckin' fence--?"
"I ain't hopped shit!" he hollered out. Blue inhaled deeply, puffing out his chest as a single form of intimidation against this asshole. Snake suddenly grew quiet, realizing the massive difference in size between them, and took a giant step back. "I ain't hopped shit," he said again, his tone more even, calm. "I had the code to the gate--"
"The code--"
"Yeah. How the fuck else was I supposed to get inside the compound with my goddamn truck?" He tossed his thumb out behind him, then lowered his eyes back down to the body at his feet, and nodded. "Far as this shit goes, this motherfucker was supposed to be up at Lake Point with the other Bastards gettin' sucked off by their usual bitches before that annual pissin' contest took place. Tiny said that--"
He raised a hand to stop him from continuing on and curled his fingers inside his palm. "I don't give a goddamn about anything else that motherfucker told you tonight,” he said, “alright? Though I can only assume that he's been your access to the code."
"You'd be assumin' correctly, yeah. He sent LuAnn out here a few weeks ago to infiltrate these assholes. She offered herself up to ‘em as ‘new club pussy’ and after suckin’ a few cocks, one of ‘em let her know what was up.”
"Shit." Blue dragged a hand down his face and dug his fingers past the thickness of his beard and directly into the skin of his jaw. "That asshole continues to set your ass up for failure and you fall right into his trap each and every goddamn time! What the fuck were you even doin' out here tonight?!"
He shrugged again. "Handlin' business."
"What the fuck kinda business you gotta handle all the way out here, asshole? And with these motherfuckers?!"
"Some shit for Tiny."
"Like what?!" he snapped. “We both know good and goddamn well that son of a bitch has hated Chaos since the minute they formed, and we both know why.”
Snake shook his head and turned away. "It was just some shit."
"Yeah, just some shit that damn near got your ass killed for the second time in a goddamn month." He narrowed his eyes and leaned his head. "What the hell were you thinkin' bringin' your ass out to Tacoma without any motherfuckin' back-up? Rules of the club when hoppin' jurisdictions are put in place for a goddamn reason, dumbass -- Tiny ain't remind you of that shit 'fore he lured your ass out here under the guise of 'business'?! Not havin' a motherfucker ride shotgun to help you take out every cam surroundin' this place first was a dumb fuckin' move."
"I know the rules of the club," he told him. "I just wasn't thinkin'--"
"No shit, motherfucker. Your lack of 'cognitive thinkin' skills' was made pretty goddamn clear the minute I saw your name pop up on my cell at a quarter past midnight! 'Cause had you in fact been usin' that big 'ole brain God gave you for more than figurin' out ways to get sucked off back at the club, there wouldn't be a single motherfuckin' reason for me to be out here tonight helpin' your stupid ass clean this shit up!"
"Who the fuck else was I supposed to call when you're the Sergeant at fuckin' Arms?!"
"SGT for the goddamn president, you stupid son of a bitch -- somethin' of which you ain't!" He turned on his heel and thrusted a finger in his face. Snake dropped his arms and took another step back as his head jerked away from Blue in fear. "Matter of fuckin' fact, you keep fuckin' up like this and askin' HOW HIGH each time that fat motherfucker tells you to jump, you won't make it another goddamn year with the Riders as an official, cut wearin' member." Blue turned his eyes back to the body and grinded his teeth. "When you pull shit like this, you're makin' me regret even vouchin' for your ass the way I did -- when I fuckin' did."
"You didn't have a goddamn choice in that shit," he spat. Blue glanced at him from the corner of his eye and snarled. "'Sides, you know I needed this shit just like you did, brother -- needed this club to save my goddamn life just like it saved yours... And the life of your old man before motherfuckers like this one took him out. Remember?"
Blue shoved his brows together and glared. "I ain't in the mood for this shit tonight of all nights, asshole. And not out here with you--"
"Come on, brother,” he interjected, his tone chalked with disbelief. “You can't tell me none of that shit crossed your mind before you pulled up. Shit, I'm shocked you were even calm enough to make the drive out here."
"What the fuck were you expectin' me to do once I saw this motherfucker laid out?" he asked. "Dance a goddamn jig over his body?"
"Maybe," he replied. "Least you coulda done was said you were proud as shit of--"
"What, asshole?! You guttin' this half-sacked, piece of shit motherfucker who looks as if he could barely slap the ass of a goddamn pig – let alone take you on?" He narrowed his eyes and made a face. "Are you shittin' me right now?"
"No," he answered. "And look, I know you've always been fond of Chaos club pussy when it makes its way up to Crescent Beach, but--"
"That ain't got shit to do with it."
"Then why give a fuck that one of these motherfucker's has finally been taken out?"
"'Cause this motherfucker ain't got no goddamn reason to be DEAD!"
"They ALL got a goddamn reason to be dead if you ask me!" Snake hollered back.
"But ain't nobody asked you shit about it, you stupid fuckin' prick!" he snapped.
Snake fiercely shook his head and peered. "You know what, I don't get you," he told him. "You of all people should be wrappin' your hands around that cross hangin' from your goddamn neck and screamin' out halle-fuckin'-lujah's right about now, and instead you're chastisin' me for takin' this fucker out? Not cool, brother," he said. "I slugged this motherfucker with his own blade right in front of his own goddamn club..." He threw his arms out to either side of himself and glanced down at the blood stained gravel beneath his feet, and smirked. "Probably took him out in the same spot their Prez lit up your old man like some kinda firecracker on the Fourth of July. Shit, for all we know we could still be walkin' on the soot from that night."
Blue took a long, slow deep breath in to keep from spewing shit he knew he'd regret, and slid his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He swallowed hard and flared his nostrils again, then leaned his head back and exhaled. "You don't wanna go there with me, asshole. I told you before, tonight of all nights ain't it. 'Specially when I've yet to have a bitch on my cock to relieve the stress you keep bringin' on by bein' such a dumbass--"
"I'm a dumbass who's also tellin' you the truth about why tonight should be a blessin' for you instead of a goddamn curse." He turned to look Blue directly in the face and squared his feet. "These Chaos bastards forced you to stand and watch as they gutted your old man the same way I did this asshole tonight, remember?"
Blue locked his jaw tight, clinched his teeth and gulped. He lowered his eyes to the gravel and knit his brows as the memory of his old man flashed in his mind like a burned photograph.
"They threw him at your feet like he was nothin' but trash -- shit stained on the bottom of your goddamn shoe," said Snake. "And even knowin' that he was dead as shit, still shoved a gun to the back of your skull and a blade against the front of your throat 'til you bled, and forced you to blast him right between the goddamn eyes." He moved in even closer to his brother and grimaced. "Nothin you say will erase how they stripped him 'til he was down to nothin'... won't erase how they held you back as they poured gasoline over his bare skin. Then handed you the match to light him up." He stopped to swallow as Blue's cheeks flushed burgundy. "I know you wanna forget all that shit for the sake of your sanity," he told him. "I get that shit -- I can fuckin' feel it. But...." He placed a hand on Blue's shoulder and squeezed down hard. "For the sake of me and mine? I can't do that shit, brother. I won't." He wagged his head. "Your old man didn't just belong to you anymore. Didn't belong to me." He waited a moment and sighed. "He belonged to every member of the Shadow Riders the minute we all patched in, and always will." He redirected his attention toward the body on the ground. "This asshole might not be the proper retribution for that shit, but in my eyes, it's a good goddamn start."
"It ain't shit." Blue jerked his shoulders, forcing Snake to drop his hand, and moved closer to the body. He gazed across the bruises on that dead motherfucker's face and neck, then lowered his eyes to the blood spilling out from his stomach and onto the ground. He nodded. "What'd the hell you do with his cut?" he asked.
"Wasn't wearin' one."
He dropped his head back in agitation and faced the sky. "You're shittin' me, asshole."
"He was wearin' a black tee, jeans and was fuckin' barefoot--"
"Then how the fuck can you even be sure that this asshole was an official member of Chaos like you're assumin' him to be?"
"Check the tats inside his right arm." He pointed. "First one shows three bars with a fresh strike through it, which means he was just patched in. One right beneath it is a streak of fire, their emblem. He's probably got Raging Bastards of Chaos shit written all over his back just like the rest of 'em."
"You sure he was the only motherfucker left on the compound?"
"Yeah."
"You sure you're fuckin' sure?"
"Yeah brother, I'm fuckin' sure as shit."
Blue stared at his face for a long while, unsure of himself, and nodded. "Alright." Then he dragged his eyes up to the set of cameras hanging down from each corner of the club, and glowered. "Since you didn't manage to shoot this shit up before wailin' on this asshole, did you at least bust out the equipment in Big D's office and remove the tapes?"
"Every last one of 'em just before you showed up," he answered. "Took a piss in his chair like a mutt too, for good luck."
"Yeah, too bad that asshole wasn't on the ground with his mouth wide open when you did." He turned back to the body and sighed. "How old do you take this motherfucker to be?"
Snake wrinkled his nose and soured. "Twenty somethin'? Not too much older than me, I guess, but I don't fuckin' know -- who gives a shit?"
Blue didn't, despite asking, despite knowing where he belonged and why; though there was a part of him, small enough to barely be seen, that felt like he should have, that felt like he almost did.
"We tossin' him in the truck?" asked Snake.
"No. We gotta make sure there ain't a single trace of us even bein' here tonight since you fucked up whatever 'business' shit you claimed to have. These assholes even find out we stepped foot back in Tacoma, let alone back on their unguarded compound, and we're fucked up the ass with every lead pipe known to mankind."
"Shit, if that's the case, we got no choice but to burn the place down to nothin' but ashes."
Blue made a face and opened his hands. "What?"
"We send this place up in smoke, ain't nobody ever gonna know we were here."
"They're gonna know somebody was here, dumbass," he shot back, "that somebody fucked up one of their newest members -- maybe even as a goddamn cover up or some shit."
"But they ain't gonna know it was us." He placed his hands on either side of his waist and lifted the corner of his mouth into a half hearted grin. "All the enemies these motherfuckers got around here just for bein' the wrong color, they're fucked as it is," he told him. "So no way they're gonna trace this shit back to the Riders -- no way, no motherfuckin' how. We rot it to the ground, get off scot-free, Prez and VP never find out a goddamn thing."
"They didn't know 'bout you bein' out here tonight?"
"Not unless you said somethin' to 'em before headin' out. I know River's often got a spotlight shinin' on your ass anytime you make a move without him--"
He shrugged. "I never said shit to him or Wolf 'fore I bounced out. But how can you trust that Tiny's gonna be the same goddamn way and keep his fat ass mouth shut?"
Snake blinked once and swallowed hard. "I can't. But I can promise you that if shit goes down about it, you won't be the one takin' the fall for it."
"'Preciate that, brother, but..." Blue eyed him up and down and peered. "You not spillin' the kinda business that asshole wanted you to 'handle' out here tonight still ain't sittin' right with me."
"Wasn't a big goddamn deal," he replied, his tone careless despite showing a hint of agitation. "Which is why none of this shit was supposed to go down like it did – like I told you it wasn’t. Now look." He pointed behind him. "I've gotta couple of tin barrels of gasoline wastin' time in the bed of my truck, and--"
"Hold on. What the fuck are you doin' drivin' around the goddamn city with barrels of gasoline?"
"For times like this, motherfucker. Or for when Miranda's lookin' to suck me off on the side of the road. Bitch had my cock so far deep down her goddamn throat last night, I forgot the engine was still runnin'." He snickered. "I know it's only been a few weeks since we first met, but she's lookin' more and more like Old Lady material every day with that shit; on top of cookin' and cleanin' up my house even when I don't ask her to or I'm too busy rollin’ out random pussy back at the club." He paused. "Hell, maybe you could even be my best man at the weddin' when all this shit's said and done -- bein' the one to introduce us and all like you did."
"Yeah." He slightly rolled his eyes and sighed. "Listen, you still ain’t mentioned any of that shit to the brothers, correct?"
"Mentioned what?"
"How I introduced you two, or why."
“No. You threw it out there when it happened and I respect that shit. I ain’t never said another word about it since – not to anybody in or outta the club.”
“Good.”
Snake slowly bobbed his head and slapped him on the arm, then moved behind the bed of his truck and unlatched the door. After climbing up top and ripping off the tarp covering the barrels, he slid each one toward the edge of the bed and slammed his hand on top. "We pour both of these throughout that place." He looked over at the club and snapped his fingers. "Shit'll go up like a firebomb before we even make it off the property."
"That ain't what we're wantin'," he told him. "We don't wanna go up along with it."
"No shit, asshole," said Snake. "But it's what we're gonna need in order to make it the fuck outta here at all." He shoved the barrels even closer to the edge and nodded.
Blue swallowed hard, then hesitantly moved over to the bed, and with both hands, lifted each barrel from the truck and sat them on the ground. After slapping his hands together and dusting his palms, he turned back to the club and dropped his shoulders. "Shit."
"What?"
He pointed his head near the body and groaned. "This motherfucker. We gotta roll him inside, prop him up somewhere or some shit. We leave him out here, there ain't a point to doin’ any of this."
"I'll snatch him up. You bring in the barrels."
Snake jumped from the bed of the truck, seeming more eager than he should've with regard to what was soon to take place, and raced over to the dead motherfucker on the ground. He wrapped a hand around the back of his head and without a single ounce of compassion, sank the tips of his fingers into the man's scalp, tightened his grip around his hair and lifted him up from the ground. And with as much ease as it took to lift a baby elephant, he dragged him inside the club and tossed him in the corner of the room.
"I must be one helluva goddamn idiot to even think of goin’ along with this shit… Fuck."
Blue latched the door on the bed of the truck and grabbed the set of barrels, then headed inside the club.
"Just set 'em down right there," hollered Snake from across the room as he struggled to prop up that dead motherfucker in a chair against the wall.
As Blue's eyes roamed the place from one corner to the other, the familiarity of his surroundings began to creep inside his mind and he realized that despite so much changing about it, at least on the inside, even more of it had managed to stay the same. The front room catering to bitches and the brothers was still dark, dank and musty, smelling of shit, pussy and mildew, and looked like it hadn't been touched by a woman, outside of her handprints against the walls, for more than a decade. The floors were sticky, as if they had been covered in liquid candy, while the pool table looked like it was covered in something that was once inside of somebody else. The bar was stocked, but everything was open and half empty; the ceiling was dripping with what felt like water but smelled like piss. Pigs couldn't have had it any better than these assholes and they could barely manage to give a flying fuck about it all.
"Brother. Just set 'em down right there," Snake said again, pointing at the barrels.
Blue placed them near the door and removed his cut, setting it on top of one of them, and then soured. "What the hell are you doin’?" he asked Snake. "Throw that motherfucker on the ground and strip him down to nothin' but his dick."
He laughed aloud and threw a hand across his stomach. "You sure?"
"Yeah. I figure if we're goin' out, we may as well go out like the couple of well-bred motherfuckers that we are."
He nodded and did as told.
Blue dragged his palm back and forth across the center of his chest, then took another look around the room and asked in a curious tone, "Hey, uh... where'd you find Big D's office? In the back?"
He pointed behind him. "Straight back, then make a sharp right turn and you'll find his door cracked open with the smell of piss leadin' the way."
"Yeah, yours and every other motherfucker residin' in this place." Blue laughed to himself as he headed back, and within less than a few seconds, located that cracked door. As he placed his hand at the center of it, a flood of memories suddenly overwhelmed the absolute hell out of him, forcing him to shut his eyes and gulp. "Shit." He sighed. "You can do this shit, motherfucker, don't punk out now like some kinda pussy that ain't seen cock in over a goddamn decade." After a few seconds of psyching himself up, he pulled back and wrapped two fingers around the cross hanging from the chain around his neck. "You can do this shit, for your old man, for you and the club."
When he finally opened his eyes, he blew out a wad of hot air and said a prayer for himself, then shoved the door back and stepped inside.
"Je. Sus. Christ." He arched his brows in shock as he looked from one side of the room to the other. "Holy fuckin' shit." Every monitor linked to the setup of cameras placed outside had been completely destroyed with the help of a few bullets, possibly the edge of the half broken chair sitting in the corner of the room, and what looked like a baseball bat laying in a puddle of blood and piss near the desk. After a few seconds of taking it all in, he smiled to himself and chortled. "Holy. Fuckin'. Shit."
As he made his way further inside the room, ignoring the sound of glass crunching beneath the heels of his boots, he eyed a wall of mugshots with each one belonging to both current and former members of the Raging Bastards of Chaos, and quickly dropped that grin; because at the very top of the shots near the ceiling was the face of founder and one time president of the club, Luther 'Rough Neck' Townsend.
It had been one hell of a long ass time since he had come face to face with that motherfucker, or rather face to cock since he had him on his knees with the muzzle of his favorite gun shoved deep down his throat. But even then as he stood in that room and stared into his eyes all over again as they hung high up on that wall, he still had the urge to take him out in the same way he had all those years ago; the urge to blow his brains across the gravel the same way he was forced to do to his old man -- the urge to string him up by a lamppost just a few feet from Chaos, and leave him dangling there for his brother to find when he returned.
And when he finally did...
"Eye for a fuckin' eye," is what Big D heard the minute he walked into that very same office back then and found a lowly Shadow Riding prospect named Anthony DaSilva taking up space in a grown man's chair. Motherfucker didn't even bother running -- didn't even bother to try. He wanted to be found -- needed it like he needed to breathe in the same air as the assholes he knew would be coming for him next, without question.
But in that moment, Big D surprised the hell out of him by tossing a 'congratulations' and 'job well done' in his direction instead for taking care of what he knew he could never bring himself to do on his own: permanently remove his brother from the head of Chaos' throne. When he showed him his hand, crinkled his eyes and nodded his head, Anthony knew right then and there exactly where he would soon belong within the rankings of his own club, and why.
As he stood up and took Big D's hand into his own, they made an agreement on the spot: The Shadow Riders would keep their fingers, noses and cocks out of all things Raging Chaos business from here on out, allowing them to fully own the streets of Tacoma and expand their territory beyond if need be, though Crescent Beach would go untouched. Pussy every now and then was an option. In return, Rough Neck's murder would instantly become a cold case for the Feds.
It was the first and only deal he had ever made with an actual member from another club with regard to his own; a deal he made alone, without backup, as a mere prospect who had jumped jurisdictions with the intent to kill and be killed. And until the day he took his last breath, he had planned to make good on his word. Unfortunately, he never counted on Tiny being such a self-righteous, self-serving prick. And more than that, never counted on a motherfucker like Snake, his own goddamn recruit, being the one to finally clip his wing and become the potential reason behind an almost guaranteed downfall.
"Yo." Blue turned on his heel and arched a brow as Snake stood in the doorway. "Motherfucker's spread out like a goddamn eagle in the center of the club. For shits and giggles, I flipped him on his stomach and stuck a joint up his ass."
He rattled his head and pointed. "Let's just get this shit over with."
As they headed back out into the club, Blue grabbed his cut and slid it back on, then unscrewed the lid from one of the barrels and splashed as much gasoline as he could across the floor and bar before returning to the hallway and lining the edges of Big D's office.
"Sorry it came down to this shit, brother," he muttered. "But if I'm willin' to live by the code of my club, I gotta be willin' to die by it too."
When he heard Snake calling out to him, he raised his head to look out the door, and noticed another one at the opposite end of the hallway leading to what looked like a spare room. He lifted the barrel to his ear and shook it a bit to see just how much gas had been left inside, then made his way down the hall and reached out for the knob.
"YO!"
He pulled back when Snake called out to him for a second time and shook his head, then poured what was left of the gas near the edge of the door. Once the barrel was completely empty, he stepped back, wrapped his fingers around his cross again and raced back down the hallway.
Snake moved over to the door leading to the front of the club and placed his barrel just outside.
Blue placed his barrel on top of the bar and pointed. "What the fuck is that about?"
"Coverin' our tracks, motherfucker. Pour as much as we can outside as a 'just in case'."
"Hm."
After yanking a box of matches from the inside of his cut, Snake handed a few over to Blue and grinned. Hesitantly, he clutched them between his fingers and stared down at the bright red tip of each.
"We live by the code, we die by it together, brother," said Snake.
"Not today we don't," he shot back. "'Cause if my ass gets charred for this shit -- my beard catches even the hint of anything but ash or even pussy tonight --"
"I won't light up shit out here 'til I see your giant ass flyin' back down the hallway and outta the club, alright?" he snapped.
Blue glared at him and nodded. "Yeah, alright."
After Snake threw a hand into his back, he headed back down the hallway and stared down at either end. Then he looked down at his own goddamn feet, closed his eyes and said another prayer.
"This is for you, old man," he mumbled to himself. "If you weren't already dead thanks to my bullet, you'd probably kill me for this shit. But…” After striking three matches against the base of the wooden frame, Blue stepped back and dropped the matches where he stood. Within seconds, flashes of orange and red exploded from one side of the hallway down to the other, forcing Blue to fall back onto his ass. "SHIT!"
The minute Snake saw his head bounce against the floor, he dropped the matches from his hand and ran up to drag Blue away from the flames. "If we don't get the hell outta here, the only code we'll be dyin' by is the one belongin' to these motherfuckers," he hollered out in a panic. As the fire burned throughout and smoke clouded the ceiling, Snake slid his hands beneath Blue's arms and yanked him up from the floor. "Come on--!"
"Hold on!" Blue let out a string of coughs and jerked away from him. He slammed his hand into his own chest a few times, then turned his attention over to the bare ass body in the middle of the floor and bobbed his head. "Light it up," he said.
His eyes went wide as the sudden fear of death began to overwhelm him. "This place is gonna blow any goddamn second--!"
"YOU PULLED ME INTO THIS SHIT, ASSHOLE!" Blue pointed directly in his face, forcing him to drop back. "The only way I'm gonna be able to pull the both of us out of it is if you light up this motherfucker just like you said you would. Burn it to the ground?" He turned back to the body and waved his hand. "Then by all means, burn this shit to the goddamn ground."
Snake glanced over Blue's shoulder, watching as the flames from the hallway began to creep past corners and into the front of the club. With a rattling hand, he reached inside his cut again and grabbed another set of matches. "Alright -- just get to the goddamn door," he told him.
Once there, Blue watched as Snake dragged a set of six matches against the edge of the pool table and tossed them to the floor. As an orange flare sparked around the body and seared the tips of Snake’s shoes, Blue jetted forward and slammed a hand into back of his cut, then yanked him from the club and outside.
After tossing him across the yard, he reached behind himself and snatched that barrel of gasoline from the ground. "How many of those matches you got left?" he asked.
Snake peeked over his shoulder and glared at him, then reached down for the box, which had slipped from his hand and to the ground, and counted what was left inside. "Three."
"Alright." Blue turned the barrel on its head and poured every last drop of gasoline onto the ground. Then he tossed the barrel inside the club, snatched the matches from Snake's hand and swiped them against the side of the box. As the fire blazed even higher near the bar and liquor, he pulled the matches back from his face and turned his eyes to the club. "Light it up." With a quick bounce of his hand and the flick of each finger, he tossed the matches in one by one and stood back to watch as the flames engulfed every last piece of wood left inside.
Snake moved in beside him and draped an arm around his neck, pulling him in. "Shit’s like a dream come true," he told him.
"Or like a motherfuckin’ nightmare that I just might have to kill you for, should that shit ever come to pass."
“What shit?”
“Your shit, asshole. And whatever the fuck you were actually doin’ out here tonight ‘business’ wise,” he said.
“I told you it didn’t mean a goddamn thing--”
“Yeah, and I shit through my goddamn dick,” he spat.
They stared at each other for what felt like forever, wondering what the hell the other was truly thinking and why, until Snake finally broke contact with him and looked over at his truck.
"We should get the hell outta here.”
As he turned, Blue wrapped a hand around his arm and jerked him back. He squeezed down hard until he felt his bone, and looked directly into his shifty, dark green eyes. "No breathin' a word of this shit to Tiny."
Snake locked his jaw and drew his brows together in ire. "I told you I wouldn't--"
"I need your word on that shit, motherfucker. In plain, goddamn English."
"You've got my goddamn word, asshole." He ripped his arm from his hand and stepped back to readjust his cut. "What about you?" he asked. "River and Wolf?"
"Same damn thing."
As flames shot out from the roof of the building, each man raced to his truck, dodging ashes and sparks of fire along the way, and started up his engine. Blue waved Snake ahead, then peeked in his rearview mirror and watched as the flashing red Raging Chaos sign sitting high above the building tumbled from the roof and crashed straight to the ground.
“Jesus--”
"YO!" Snake slammed on his breaks and threw his head out of the window. "You comin' or am I gonna have to carry your ass back to Crescent Beach like a bitch?"
Blue tossed out his hand and waved him on again, then sped right through the opened gate and past Snake. As he gripped the wheel, sweat poured from his temples, down each side of his face and onto the collar of his cut.
No matter what came of that night or why, Anthony DaSilva knew he was a dead man walking.
It was only matter of time.
Until next time, stay safe and KEEP READING!
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