Viper's Kiss (Back Down Devil MC #8)(12)

***

It was an ambush.

Blaine saw it happening a second before it did. There were six motorcycles, six men, all weapons drawn. They started to fire the second they saw Back Down Devil MC. Blaine cut to the right and went off the road. He turned and dropped his ride, letting dirt and dust kick up. The cloud gave the MC a shield for a few seconds. Enough so that they could all stop and build a wall of their own motorcycles for protection.

“Motherf*ckers!” Blaine yelled.

He stood up and had a gun in each hand.

“What the f*ck are you doing?” Shay yelled. “Get down, brother!”

“No,” Blaine said. “I’m going in. You guys make the kill.”

Blaine then stepped over the motorcycles. The dust settled and he was the lone guy standing there. An easy target.

The Eight Under crew hesitated for a split second. Blaine opened his arms and pulled the triggers on the guns. Two shots, two bullets, and two guys hit. That’s when Blaine dropped as the bullets started to fly again. He crouched and walked, looking ridiculous as he did so.

Back Down Devil rose up and entered the gunfight, pushing Eight Under back on their rides and desperate to escape. The move didn’t make sense though. Why they had set all this up only to fail so fast and so miserable. Then again, it was Eight Under. They acted fast, usually without using their brains.

The Eight Under crew hurried to get away.

There was a guy on the back of a motorcycle and that was Blaine’s target. He shot once, hitting the guy in the shoulder. The guy then fell to the left and off the motorcycle. The guy controlling the motorcycle didn’t even look back. He just kept going. Blaine ran to the guy and grabbed his leg. He pulled, turned him over, and then punched him in the mouth.

“What the f*ck are you doing out here?” Blaine yelled. “Tell me right now.”

“Just business, *,” the guy said.

Blaine punched him again. “Who sent you?”

The guy smiled, blood leaking from his mouth. “You’re f*cked this time. You have no idea what you’re against.”

“Why the ambush?”

“Just to see… just to see…”

Blaine threw his head forward and smashed it against the guy’s face. The guy’s head hit the road with a hard thud.

“Blaine!” Miller bellowed. “Get him up and out of here.”

Blaine stood up and looked around.

Something didn’t feel right.

Why would they feel so cocky to do this? Why would they just mess around like this? They had no muscle… unless someone new was in the crew…

A gunshot broke Blaine’s stare, along with the splatter of blood against his face.

He looked and saw Gaige holding a gun. Jace had been holding the guy up when Gaige shot.

“What the hell?” Blaine asked. “Now I’m covered in his shit.”

“Leave him here,” Miller said. “Call the prospect and tell him to head back to the lot. This is a message for those goddamn pricks.”

“But why?” Gaige asked. “Why this?”

“They’re sending a message to us,” Blaine said. “Something is going on with the club. Maybe they got some backing or something.”

“Yeah?” Miller said. “Well, they all just dug their goddamn graves. This is done. They think they can rebuild and flex muscle at us?”

“Or they know about Ethan,” Gaige said. “They know we have a new hand of the law in town. They know we’re up against it and we’ll be battling.”

“I’ll keep Ethan under control,” Blaine said. “Let him focus on me.”

“Why you?” Gaige asked.

“Let’s ride,” Miller said. “This *’s rotten body is going to start to stink soon.”

The club got back on their motorcycles and left the scene. It felt like a very long ride back to the lot, one filled with muddled thoughts. Blaine hated that feeling. The purpose of riding was to feel free. It was the ultimate sense of freedom. The road, the horizon, and anything that could happen or exist.

Two prospects opened the gates for the MC and they barreled into the lot, right back home.

When Blaine climbed off his ride, Trev came out of the clubhouse and pointed to him.

“What did I do now?” Blaine asked.

“Nothing,” Trev said. “There’s a woman here looking for you.”

“Me? Shit. She naked?”

“No.”

“She a stripper?”

“I don’t think so.”

“She have a gun?”

“Blaine…”

“Oh, f*ck,” Blaine said. “Does she have two different color eyes? I told that one that it wouldn’t hurt when I used three fingers in…”

“Just go the f*ck inside,” Trev said. “She seems terrified and keeps asking for you.”

Blaine rushed to the door and ripped it open.

Who the f*ck would be here for me?

When Blaine saw the figure turn around on a barstool, his jaw hit the floor. It wasn’t just a blast from the past, it was a blast right back to the most tragic moment of Blaine’s life.





six.



Of course he has blood on him.