Loving Me, Trusting You(64)

Will is screaming and drawing a weapon from his belt, lifting a shaky hand up towards the two of us. Time slows for me, and I don't see straight. I don't think straight either. I can't. My anger is too intense, my rage too pure. I reach out and pull Melissa's gun from her fingers, aim it down and press the barrel into the elder Walker's head.

“I wish it could last longer, end sweeter, and destroy you from the inside out.” I close my eyes and pull the trigger. Wetness splatters my face, but I don't waver. Being a part of an MC means thinking on your feet, keeping in control of the situation. My eyes open and avoid the carnage, choosing instead to focus on the knife as I yank it out and use it free myself at the ankles. Melissa's already taken charge and grabbed the extra gun, scooting close to the row of motorcycles nearby, so she can have a place to shoot. I follow after her, lifting my weapon up and aiming at the opposite end of the room, hoping I'm a good enough shot to hit some targets.

“I'm surprised to see you here,” I say casually, and Melissa smiles. It's not a happy smile. In fact, she looks like she might've gone bat shit f*cking crazy, but at least she's still on our side. Whether she's the rat or not, I don't know, but it's pretty obvious that she's not sticking around to do Bested by Crows any favors.

“I'm surprised to still be alive,” she says, sweeping blonde hair from her forehead before steadying her gun again and taking aim. “Thank you.”

“Don't mention it,” I respond as the door explodes open and in walk Beck and Kimmi, trailing some other Triple M'ers behind them. They take stock of the situation in an instant and move for cover, trapping Bested by Crows in the middle of our two groups. I might actually make it through this. I hold my shots as I watch Beck work his magic, crawling around behind the scrap metal pile he's using for cover and bursting out into the open. It takes him three friggin' seconds to grab a man and snap his damn neck. Six more to knock another * out with his elbow and eleven more to kick Mack Walker in the nuts, bring him to his knees and steal his damn gun.

I'm so wrapped up in all of this crap that I almost miss a man in a red T-shirt taking aim at my best Goddamn friend. But Mireya doesn't. I don't see her until she's standing up and taking a shot at the back of his ugly f*cking skull, flecking the air with red and pink for a moment before he drops to his knees and gives us a clear view across the room at each other.

When her eyes meet mine, she narrows them and pinches her lips. I can't tell if she's happy to see me or just pissed off. And then I see the wet sheen in her gaze, and I can't help myself. I rise to my feet and move across the space between us, listening to the strange absence of sound.

“There's more of 'em,” Beck says, kicking Mack in the side and nodding his chin at a group of Triple M'ers sneaking in the back. “Just down the road with the Pres.” His severe frown flips straight up into a grin. “Let's go kick some ass and then get the hell out of here before their little friends show up to pay us a visit. I think we're in Seventy-seven Brothers territory.” He starts to move forward and then pauses when he sees Melissa rise from behind the motorcycles, gun in hand, blood staining her face and hair. They look at each other for a long, long moment, one that I can feel stretching out and warping the Goddamn space-time continuum. I smell another romance on the horizon.

Beck holds out his hand and she takes it, moving across the room like she isn't even really sure how she got here in the first place. That woman has issues, but if there's anyone that might be able to help her out with them, it's Beck and his sense of humor. That shit could cure anyone. Anyway, I know what it's like to be in love with someone that isn't ready to love you back. Yet.

“Mireya,” I say as she moves forward, towards Mack, her eyes on me. When she gets close enough, she lets go of her gun and holds out her right hand. At first, I think she's going to touch me. I know I'm desperate to grab her, hold her, kiss her. I always will be. Instead she slaps me so hard that my jaw aches and the left side of my face goes numb.

“You dumb f*ck,” she growls as her eyes brim with tears and she glares daggers at me. “What were you thinking?”

“I wasn't,” I whisper back, listening to the sounds of shouting outside the warehouse. “But Mireya, I – ” She steps forward again and grabs me behind the neck, kissing me so hard that I stumble back and nearly trip over the legs of a body on the ground. One that's still moving. Despite the fire in my blood and the beauty pressed against my lips, I pull back and look. We both do.

“You Goddamn bitch,” Mack screams as he rolls to his side and starts to get to his feet. I look at him and then over at Mireya. Her face is calm this time, but her hands are shaking. She stares at him as he stands fully and, instead of turning to face us, takes off running. Mireya watches him go and for a moment, I think she's going to let him live.

“I'm sorry, Crystal,” she says, and then raises her arm, grabs hold of the gun with both hands and fires. Mack drops to the ground, still and silent, seconds before the first screech of sirens cuts through the air around us.





Blue and red lights tease the gray walls in front of me, kissing the dirty cement with frightening color. La policía. I'm not ready for cops. I still have blood on my hands and regret in my heart. I still see Tray's face in my mind and there's a freaking pistol clutched in my fingers. I turn to Gaine, to that pillar of strength, to the one person I know that has never let me down, that's always been willing to try, who refuses to judge me, even when I judge myself.