I glance at Kadence and grab my damn heart in my hands when I ask, “Can you return fire if I jog around the cabin to surprise them from the other side?”
“Fuck, yes,” she grunts underneath her breath.
I reach out to grab her neck and slam my mouth over hers to taste her lips in a fleeting kiss before I push my boots on the ground to race around the cabin. With my gun aimed forward I reach the corner and don’t even glance around but jump out and start to fire.
Their eyes are still locked to where Kadence is firing, making them sitting ducks. A young guy with a prospect cut on with the Deranged Hounds patch is now getting drenched by blood from the bullets I fired into his back.
Cannon has a last breath to spin around and aim his gun at me but a bullet enters between his eyes and at the same time his skull shatters from the impact of a second bullet as my woman shoots the fucker as well.
Knowing the asshole is dead, I let my eyes travel over my front yard to make sure all threats are gone. Kadence comes rushing toward me. I holster my gun to wrap an arm around her and pull her close to inhale her sweet fragrance, making sure she’s still with me and we’re still alive.
Fuck. Alive. Is Alfie still breathing?
CHAPTER EIGHT
– KADENCE –
“Alfie,” Colt grunts and locks eyes with me. “Call an ambulance, right fucking now. Then call Weston.”
He lets go of my waist and rushes off toward his truck. I now notice the blood coming from underneath his truck and the body behind it. Holy shit. That’s Alfie? I grab my phone and am shouting for help before I disconnect when I know they’re coming. Only to make a second call to let Weston know but he doesn’t pick up.
I’m about to call Roper when I hear the rumbling of bikes and see the dust surrounding them up the road. Not knowing who the fuck they are, I rush toward Colt and Alfie and have my back to them and my gun raised at the bikers riding up.
I lower my gun slightly when I notice it’s Weston, Roper, Joaquin, Garrett, and Ledger. But I shift my aim when behind them Rowen and his VP, Koda, appear. Filled with anger I fire off a round in the direction of my brother.
“Get the fuck off my damn property,” I bellow.
My brother’s bike comes to an abrupt stop. He kicks out the kickstand and jumps off his bike, holding both hands palms up.
“I called it in the second we knew Cannon was out for blood and wanted to drag you off. The fucker is insane, we had no clue he would go nuts when he heard he couldn’t have you. He drove off with a prospect in tow and dropped off the radar. I swear we had nothing to do with it, sis. We drove like hell on wheels to get here because I was afraid he would go to you. When I couldn’t reach Colt, I called Weston. I swear we didn’t know.”
I fire another round next to his boot. “This is all your fault.”
“Noooo.” The tormented plea coming from Joaquin rips straight through my chest.
Shit. Alfie. The blood. His sagging body. He didn’t return fire. Joaquin’s sobs.
He’s dead?
I raise my gun to justify his death but the gun is covered with a hand as it’s guided down. “You don’t want to do that.”
My eyes trail up the arm of who is preventing me from shooting another bullet at my brother. I let Weston take the gun from me and I mindlessly nod.
“I just…it’s his fault. Alfie, he’s…” A sob rips from me.
“From the looks of it, Alfie is still breathing. And I can’t let you kill the president of another MC on club grounds,” Weston says with a firm tone. “Even if the fucker is your brother. In the end he did do right by you. He stepped up and put you before the club, Kadence. He was ready to end Cannon himself but he was already heading here and couldn’t get to you in time.”
I let my head drop. He’s right. “Sorry, Prez,” I tell him, even if he’s not my president, but in this moment–me being Colt’s old lady–I know very well he is.
Not that I forgive my brother, but I trust Weston and the words he just gave me.
“Go help your man, the EMTs are here,” he orders and I spin around to run toward Colt who is helping to keep Joaquin away from Alfie; the EMTs need to do their job.
I take Joaquin’s face into my hands and firmly make him glance at me. “Joaquin. Pull yourself together, you’re not helping.”
His eyes are still fixed on the ground behind me. I risk a glance over my shoulder and notice Alfie is awake and growling at the EMTs who are lifting him onto the stretcher.
“Joaquin,” I snap, his eyes now landing on mine. “See? He’s still alive. Now you need to swallow back the panic and go with him to the hospital. I’m going to be right behind you, okay?”
He stops struggling and closes his eyes a moment to inhale a deep breath. When he opens them there’s determination flaring and he says in a firm tone, “You’re right. I got this. He’s got this. He’s going to be fine and then I can spank his ass for almost dying on me.”
“You’re not spanking my ass, boy,” Alfie grunts.
Joaquin releases a sound close to a mix of a sob and a laugh and I whisper, “He’s a fighter. Go support your man. We got this.”
Colt lets go of him and Joaquin rushes off to follow the EMTs who are loading Alfie into the ambulance. Colt opens his arms and it takes three steps before I let myself fall into his embrace.
His lips brush against my head. “Come on, let’s go inside. I need some fucking coffee.”
“You and me both,” I croak.
Hours pass where we are faced with answering questions and cleaning up the mess that happened before we’re able to head for the hospital. Once there we’re told Alfie needed emergency surgery. He was shot twice in one leg, once in the shoulder, and twisted his ankle of his other leg.
He needs to spend some time in the hospital followed by weeks recovering but he’s allowed to do it at home as long as he uses the wheelchair since his shoulder, and both of his legs are injured, and there’s no way for him to use crutches.
Joaquin will look after him but I think the hospital will arrange a nurse. Whatever, I have no clue but he’s getting help to change the bandages and care Alfie needs these upcoming weeks.
My head isn’t functioning properly after this fucked up day and even if Colt and I are lying in the swing bed on the back porch–exactly where we were this morning when all went to shit–there’s some form of serenity blanketing us.
As twisted as our day started, it’s a valid promise our past is closed now. I didn’t think Cannon would be nuts enough to bring a prospect to come and get me–guns blazing–because he had some kind of fucked-up idea I belonged to him.
There are so many things to say and yet lying here in Colt’s embrace and watching how our horses are enjoying the moonlight settles my heart to know this is home. And yes, our house is now littered with bullet holes and we need to repair the windows but we will, because we have all the time in the world to do just that.
Colt reaches for the beer bottle and takes a long pull before passing it to me. “Maybe we should ask Ledger and my sister to build a cabin next to ours.”
I have to swallow hard to prevent the beer from bursting out of my nose in surprise of what he just said.