Man of the House(205)

I took a few steps back, my head spinning. Another corpse. Another dead body because of me. Clutch had saved me again, and this time in a much harder, more violent way. He had stabbed a man to death, plunged a knife into his heart.

All because of me. Everything was because of me.

I felt dizzy, so I quickly leaned up against the bike, taking deep, gulping breaths.

“You’re safe,” Clutch said to me. “You’re safe. Just breathe. Breathe, Janine.”

I listened to his voice, keeping myself calm, breathing deeply, breathing deeply.

“Who are you?” Clutch asked the man.

“Now I can make a noise?”

“Be a smartass and I’ll waste you.”

“Fine,” the man said. “I’m surprised you don’t recognize me.”

“Why the fuck would I?”

“You kicked me in the face earlier today.”

I stared at the man as it really sank in. “You’re a Rebel?” I asked him.

“Bingo.” He flashed a grin that was missing a few teeth.

Clutch bashed him in the head with his gun. The man fell back but wasn’t knocked out. He groaned.

“You fucking cunt. Don’t look at her,” he said.

“You don’t get it,” the man said. “You really don’t get it.”

“Explain it to me then,” Clutch said, pressing the gun against his skull.

“It’s all over. Everything is over.”

Clutch started saying something, but it was drowned out by the sound of motorcycles roaring into the parking lot.

Dow, Noble, Larkin, and Ford all pulled in, their bikes screaming power and fury. They cut their engines and got off the bikes. Larkin came over to me and wrapped his arms around me.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Two guys,” I said. “Clutch killed one.”

“Damn, man,” Dow said, looking at the body. “Right in the heart. Solid aim.”

I shuddered. There was a lot of blood.

“He says he’s a Rebel,” Clutch said.

Larkin let me go and walked over to the man. “What’s your name?” he asked.

“Leeroy,” he said. “Lavoy was my cousin.” He spit onto the ground.

Clutch growled, but Larkin held a hand up.

“Who ordered this?” Larkin asked.

“Go fuck yourself, you old cunt.”

Larkin nodded, and Clutch bashed him again with his gun. This time Leeroy buckled and dropped over, knocked out.

“Well shit,” Noble said. “The fucking Rebels tried to kill you two.”

“Pack him up,” Larkin said to Dow. “And get rid of that body.”

“Got it.” Dow got to work right away on the dead body.

“Noble, stitch Clutch up and then follow us to the clubhouse. I’m taking Janine back.”

“Got it,” Noble said.

“Fuck that,” Clutch cut in. “I want to talk to this fucking cunt some more.”

“You will,” Larkin said, “soon enough. Let’s get him back and then see what he tells us.”

Clutch grunted but didn’t fight.

“Come on, Janine.” I followed Larkin over to his bike and we climbed on. “You okay?” he asked me.

“I am, thanks to Clutch.”

Larkin nodded. “We owe him a lot, don’t we?”

“Yeah, we do.”

He fired up the bike and we headed back toward the club.

I owed Clutch a lot. I owed him my life twice over, and probably even more than that. Dow could handle the dead body, and Noble and Clutch would get that Rebel fuck back to the clubhouse.

And then we’d find out what the hell was really going on.

Fear was running down my spine, but I could barely feel it. I was in shock, probably from what I had witnessed.

But I owed Clutch everything. That was all I could think about. No matter what, I owed Clutch, and I was going to pay him back, someday, somehow.





30





Clutch





After my fucking face got stitched up, Dow came back with a truck. We helped pile the dead body into it, and he headed out to dump the thing out in the desert where it would never be found.

Meanwhile, Noble shoved the Rebel into the back of their van. He got into the driver’s seat and rolled down the window. “Meet me at the club,” he said. “I’ll send some guys back for my bike.”

“Got it.” He pulled out and I got onto my own bike, kicking it to life.

My fucking face was aching, but I was too angry to feel it. This whole thing had gotten fucked faster than I could have imagined, and yet Janine still thought she was really going through with this marriage.

Truth was, after this little fucking stunt, that marriage was done. I didn’t know what Larkin was thinking, but a direct attempt on his daughter’s life by the club he was trying to patch over basically meant the deal had to be off.