Crash and Burn (Back Down Devil MC #2)(5)

“Look at this f*cking shit,” Gaige said. He lifted the young man’s arm and turned him a little. “Right on the back of his f*cking shoulder, man.”

“Yeah,” Landon said.

The markings on the shoulder were pretty obvious.

“Eight f*cking Under,” Gaige said.

“Eight Under,” Landon said. “Son of a bitch.”

Landon leaned down and looked closer at the marking and then shook his head.

“What is it?” Gaige asked.

“He’s not in yet,” Landon said

“What?”

“Look…”

The marking of Eight Under was, in all purpose of opinion of those in Back Down Devil, pretty f*cking stupid. It was eight straight lines, all misshaped and sized on purpose, but the final marking was a bowed line under the other eight lines. That meant Eight Under…

“There’s the beginning,” Landon said. “The eight marks. But there’s nothing under it.”

“Jesus Christ,” Shay said. “They’re sending out these guys to do what?”

“Earn their keep,” Landon said. “Try to threaten us. They know we’ll f*cking kill every one of them, so they’re sending out newbies.”

“Fucking hell,” Gaige said. “That’s tragic.”

“Like shit.” Shay spit on the dead guy’s face. “Let him burn in hell.”

“Okay, we need to clear out,” Landon said. “Before the lights come.”

“We’ll make sure that doesn’t happen,” Gaige said. “I’ll call Miller and he’ll call Chief Jerry. He still owes us a favor or two.”

Shay laughed. “Favors for life. We saved that little boy of his.”

“That’s right,” Gaige said.

Landon stared at the dead body. Another f*cking mess at the feet of the MC. He thought for a second about Erik, in the hospital, recovering. Hell, at least Erik had a woman with him. She was paid to do anything he wanted. Anything.

Landon wondered if that’s what he needed.

“Come on, brother,” Shay said. “We need to get back to the clubhouse and sit this one down. It’s getting darker and deadlier out here tonight.”

“Those are my kinds of nights,” Landon said.

Shay laughed again. “Let’s get some whiskey in you first. Then a little * second. You’ll be fine.”

Landon nodded and looked out to the night.

Nothing felt fine.





three.



Her name was Avery, but she knew that wasn’t her real name. In fact, she was pretty sure her last name was once Avery but had been changed to her first name. Now she just told people her name was Avery Smith because it was a simple last name - common enough to not be fake, but too common to be forgotten.

It was midnight and she was hungry and thirsty. Drinks were easy to get because she had a set of boobs and smile that would ease any man’s troubles. She never paid for a drink in her life, which was part of the reason she was in the hell she was currently in. But that didn’t matter right now. She was alive.

Avery stopped and leaned against the back of a building. Her right leg was still hurting from when she dropped a stolen motorcycle right in the middle of the road. She thought someone was chasing her and when she came across what looked like the lot to a MC, she panicked and lost the motorcycle. When it happened, she thought she was f*cked. Then, as luck would have it, a car exploded and that gave Avery her chance to get the hell out of there. Running on nothing but adrenaline, she managed to pick up the motorcycle and ride it away. There was damage to the motorcycle and to her leg. With a basic understanding of the MC life, and knowing how to survive, Avery took the motorcycle to a shady looking gas station. It was full of men, which made it a dangerous spot to be in. She took the flirting and touching, because at the end of the conversation, she walked away with a few grand in her pocket.

Running right now would prove useless because Avery had no car and she didn’t have the energy or care to try to run. She had gotten away from where she needed to. The small town here was okay and it was near the beach. It allowed Avery to float along without being noticed. And if the day came and she was found, then she would have no choice but to fight. By then though her leg would be healed.

Right now, in the dead of the night, she was hungry. Avery felt weak and tired but she was a bit of ways away from getting any rest. She eyed the back of a small bakery that would be perfect for a bite. She could load up on some leftovers or just take whatever the hell she needed. Avery came from a world of outlaws so her conscious didn’t quite process the reality of right or wrong.

Slipping to a recycling bin, Avery pulled out a piece of cardboard. She held it against the small back window of the building and then took a deep breath. She elbowed the cardboard and window. It sent a wicked pain through her arm. Avery tried again and again, and finally, on her fourth try, the glass broke. With the cardboard still against the glass, Avery pushed gently and the window shattered and fell into the bakery. Thanks to her size, Avery managed to wiggle her way through the broken window and kept herself from getting cut. Once in the bakery she looked around and took note that there was no security system in place.

Avery navigated in the dark and found a small light over a counter. When she turned it on, she smiled. This place would do just fine. There was a lot of inventory on shelves and judging by how much there was, a few missing pieces of bread wouldn’t shut the place down. Avery dropped her bag and sat down on the floor. She grabbed a long, skinny piece of bread and started to eat. She suddenly felt pathetic. The urge to cry came over her, but she fought it off. She never cried because anytime she ever did, something bad would happen to her. Thinking back on her escape plan, Avery knew she should have just killed him. She should have emptied a f*cking clip right into his head. But if she had done that, there would have been half a dozen guys looking for her, and they wouldn’t stop until they had her head, literally.