Bronx: The Lost Boys MC #3 Page 16

  “Thank you. Seriously,” Notch said.

  My father waved his hand in the air. “My crew hasn’t gotten to where they are now without digging themselves into some serious trenches. We had help back then, too. But, we asked for the help because we were also cleaning up our act. I’m assuming you guys are, too?” my father asked.

  He stared everyone down at the table before Bronx spoke up.

  “We are, yep. I’m the numbers guy, so I’ve been allocating funds and investing everything to make sure we’ve got steady income as well as disposable cash sitting in money market compounded funds to pull out for when we want to establish our bars around the area.”

  My jaw slowly fell open as my father chuckled.

  “A numbers guy. I like it. Never had the mind for it. I’m still amazed at my Treasurer and the shit he can pull off sometimes.”

  “So, you’re really going to help us?” Texas asked.

  “Let’s not beg the man,” Stone said.

  “I’ll help so long as you’re cleaning up your act. That’s important, especially with a crew that’s bringing families into the loop. You’ve got my daughters to take care of now. I won’t be helping a crew that has no want to protect them,” my father said.

  “I’ll protect Hayley with my life. Whatever it takes,” Stone said.

  My father leveled his eyes at Bronx. “And you?”

  “There isn’t a thing I wouldn't do to ensure her happiness, safety, and security,” Bronx said.

  “Good man. And with that, I need to go place a phone call,” my father said.

  Then, with one last bite of his steak, he stood up and walked down the hallway. Leaving the table filled with silence as we all glanced around at one another.

  “Well, that could have gone worse,” Notch said.

  “You’re telling me,” Mom said, grinning.

  “He always that intense?” Stone asked.

  Mom giggled. “You haven’t seen anything yet. But, you will.”

  All of us laughed around the table as my father emerged from the hallway.

  “That was quick,” I said.

  “We have a code. I gave the word, and my V.P. said he’d handle things on his end,” my father said.

  He sat back down as we all stared at him.

  “Well, aren’t you guys gonna eat? Your food is getting cold,” he said.

  Then, with a rousing moment of laughter, we fell into easy dinner conversation. And Bronx held my hand throughout dinner, not once feeling as if we had to hide anything from anyone.

  Sneak Peak at Notch

  “Let me have a look at that, Tex,” I said.

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “Then get over here and let me clean up your wound. I should have done it an hour ago.”

  He sat down in the recliner in our second safehouse and slipped his jacket off. The shirt came over his head, with groans and soft curses latched onto it. I knew he was in pain. Taking a damn bullet through the back wasn’t a fun experience. I’d taken more than my fair share of them, throwing myself in front of the flying lead for those at my sides. I was reckless, sure. It always pissed Stone off, too. But, with my medical background, he let it slide.

  Since no one else could do what I did on a regular basis.

  “I’m going to peel back the gauze and hit ya with some alcohol wipes. So, brace yourself,” I said.

  “I think you get off on torturing--oh, fuck,” Texas groaned.

  The sound of his groan ripped me back to that moment. Back to when I saw that bullet flying through the air, about to lodge itself in a turned-around Texas that was retreating back onto the porch.

  Gunfire roared around us as Asher charged outside. He shot his guns, taking down any man that came into his purview. I crouched on the porch, using the thick railing as a guard while I popped up and shot at the feet of the men coming toward the lodge. They couldn't get inside. Not to the girls. And while Bronx had the inside of the place locked down with his own weaponry, he was also on his own if anyone breached the place.

  I maneuvered myself around the porch, trying to take out those that tried to work their way to the back.

  “There’s too many of them!” Texas yelled.

  “Keep at it! We have precious cargo inside,” Stone exclaimed.

  “I’ve got them out here. But, they’re creeping around the porch. Notch!” Asher roared.

  “I’ve got it. I’m going,” I said.

  I kept shooting at their feet, knowing damn good and well that if any of my bullets lodged themselves into their bodies, it would kill them. I wouldn't stop until they were all dead, too. No one came up on my family like this. The crew was all I had. Hell, Stone was the one that taught me about family in the first fucking place

  I wasn’t letting someone take them down unless they took me first.

  Wood splintered. Bronx yelled from inside. Glass shattered as his bullets poured through the windows, aiming at the guys still out on the street. Bronx had always been good at that. Long range combat. But me? I did the Devil’s work up close to the human body.

  Because I knew how to keep a man alive long enough to watch him regret his decisions.

  “Anyone seen Texas!?” Stone yelled.

  “Who!?” Asher asked.

  “The one taller than you, asshole!”

  “I think he’s headed inside!”

  I surveyed the street and saw the guys turn their heads to the front door. And the second they leveled their guns, I knew what was happening. I ran down the porch, wrapping around it as I saw Texas turn his back. He threw the lodge door open for whatever fucking reason he had, and then?

  I heard it.

  “Fuck, Notch. Come on,” Texas groaned.

  “Sorry. Almost done,” I murmured.

  “Texas, you okay?”

  I cleaned up the sterile fishing line I was able to find in the rudimentary first aid kit I always kept on me. In my pocket, at all times. A miniature bottle of plain vodka, fishing line, and a thin needle. A few bandaids. Some alcohol wipes. I always kept it on my person, in the pocket of my right thigh. Just for moments like this.

  Moments when I had to stitch on the go.

  “What’s wrong?” Keva asked.

  She climbed onto Texas’ lap and he sat up a bit.

  “Make it quick,” he murmured.

  “I’m trying,” I said.

  “Nothing’s wrong, honey. I just got a booboo,” Texas said.

  I tried not to laugh. I mean, really. A man his size saying ‘booboo’ was very entertaining.

  “Can I kiss it and make it better?” Keva asked.

  “Your kisses already do wonders. You don’t have to kiss the booboo to make me feel better,” Texas said, grinning.

  Keva smiled brightly as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She peppered his cheeks and forehead with kisses, causing the brute man to chuckle. I lost my place again, watching the two of them interact. I mean, I’d seen it a thousand times before. Parents and their children embracing after catastrophe. I was an EMT before I was ever recruited to the crew. Before Stone found me, pissed off with a chip a mile high on my fucking shoulder. Unlike in the television shows and movies, doctors never listened to paramedics. They always thought we were cheap, canned doctors who didn’t know what the fuck we were talking about. I’d lost more people I had saved in the hands of doctors who didn’t want to listen than anything else.

  Even at my own damn hands.

  I felt Texas relax and I cleaned the tops of his wounds. He flinched, but he kept himself poised for Keva. She curled into his chest, tucking herself underneath his chin. And the tighter he cradled her, the more he relaxed into me. I cleaned up his wounds and made sure there was no infection. I tested the strength of the stitching, making sure it would hold up to him moving around and generally playing with Keva.

  And while I’d never been big on family, or women, or relationships, there was part of me that melted at their bond.

  That was jealous of the
relationship Texas had with Keva and Ella.

  Then, Texas groaned again and it ripped me back.

  CRACK!

  It almost happened in slow motion. I rounded the corner and saw exactly which gun the bullet came from. I followed it in midair with my eyes, running to try and make it to Texas. I had to get in front of him. He had no idea what was coming his way. I abandoned my gun and ran for the massive man. I threw myself at him, hoping to make it in time.

  But, I only made it in time to watch the bullet sink through his leather jacket and into his back.

  “Fuck!” Texas roared.

  “What the hell was that!?” Stone exclaimed.

  I barreled straight into the bleeding man and the two of us went to the ground. I dragged him into the lodge, pulling the gun out of his holster he still had on his hip. I aimed down the sights of it, lining it up with the coward trying to get behind his vehicle. That Chinese bastard was going down if I had to run out there and strangle him myself.

  I breathed in, I breathed out, I leveled my gun, and I pulled the trigger.

  Then, I watched that searing hot piece of lead flying through the air sink directly between the man’s fucking eyes.

  “Notch, are you listening?” Texas asked.

  I shook my head and quickly changed the gauze over his wound.

  “Are you dizzy? Got headaches? Nausea?” I asked.

  “No, no, and a bit,” he said.

  “Thrown up yet?”

  “Nope.”

  “The room tilt when you get nauseous?”

  “Nope,” he said.

  “Okay. If you vomit, come see me immediately. Otherwise, I’ll clean you up again in the morning. Oh, and I was able to snag you some pain medication on the ride out. I went to the pharmacy while the other guys took a second trip to the lodge to get some things,” I said.

  I pulled the orange bottle out of my pocket and slipped it over his shoulder.

  “How did you snag this?” he asked.

  “Everyone has their own connections. I have mine,” I said.

  The Celtic Riders hadn’t been in town for that shootout. And while I remembered Asher trying to call for backup, I also remember him cursing when he realized they weren’t in town yet. I hadn’t had the guts to ask him if they were supposed to be. If, somehow, we had been betrayed again. We were on our own for that shootout. Defending our fort from the hoards of Chinese that rained down on us that day. Thankfully, they scooped their own dead off the street and into their cars to drive away. And what they didn’t scoop up, the oceanside cliff would surely wash away.

  “Thanks, Notch,” Texas said.

  “Anytime, it’s what I do. You’re lucky, too. Another half inch to the right and you wouldn't been done,” I said.

  I was able to work on Texas in the lodge after I sank a bullet into that asshole’s face. I kicked the door closed and pulled him into a corner, shielding us with some of the furniture. It gave me just enough time to sterilize him and get him stitched up, but he’d have a rough scar because of it. Wasn’t my best work, but it kept him from bleeding out and it would keep him from healing improperly during his recuperation time.

  “Texas!” Keva said, squealing.

  “Come here, you little princess,” he said, laughing.

  He stood from the chair, grunting as he held the little girl close. I felt a soft hand on my shoulder and turned, seeing Ella looking me straight in my eyes. She wrapped her arms around me, hugging me as she sniffled. I patted her back before rubbing it softly, trying to get her own trembling to calm down.

  “He’s fine. And he’ll be fine,” I said softly.

  “Thank you so much,” she whispered.

  She released me and I watched her walk over to Texas and her daughter. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed the man, stopping the giant in his tracks. I turned away from the display of affection. I didn’t know how the hell people could stand it. Stone and him constantly fondling Hayley in public. Ella and Texas with their kissing. And I knew it was only a matter of time before Bronx and Freya started that shit up, too.

  I mean, they practically smelled like one another at dinner.

  I drew in a deep breath as I stood up and made my way to my room. And as I did, one last flashback hit my mind. But, it wasn’t about the carnage or the blood. It wasn’t about the gunfire or Texas’ wound. It wasn’t even about getting the hell out of dodge and coming here while I cleaned up the entire scene. Making it look as if no one had been killed because I knew exactly how to get blood out of concrete and hardwood and carpet.

  It was the words of Cheng that kept rolling around in my head.

  “Who do you think gave the order, Stone!?”

  My blood boiled as I stalked into my room. Yung himself was cooperating with the police? We’d been had, and big time. I closed my eyes as Keva’s laughter filtered through the walls. Even down the hallway, I heard Ella and Keva and Texas doing their family thing. It made me grimace. I heard them kissing, and it made me wrinkle my nose. I had no idea what that kind of life was like. I had no idea what it felt like to have loving parents and forehead kisses and shit like that. There was no wrestling around with my father on the floor like that. No bedtime stories with Mom like that. No family dinners or ‘I love you’’s or Christmas presents to open during the holidays.

  The only present my old man ever gave me was a slap across the face.

  And the only thing my mother ever did for me was leave me behind with that drunken bastard.

  Nope. I stuck to hook ups. Women that warmed my bed for a few hours before I sent them on their way. Not getting attached was easier. It came more fluid to me than most things. I wasn’t the kind of man anyone wanted to get attached to. I wasn’t the kind of man girls took home to their parents. I was the kind of man fathers warned their daughters about. The kind that had specific sexual tastes in the bedroom and stalked his prey at a bar like a wild animal.

  I was the man women dreamt about, and I was the man parents feared.

  And it was better for me if it stayed that way.

  Want more? You can pre-order Notch HERE!

  More Books by Savannah Rylan

  Series

  Jace (The Black Hornets MC #1)

  Maverick (The Black Hornets MC #2)

  Duke (The Black Hornets MC #3)

  Colt (The Black Hornets MC #4)

  Thor (The Black Hornets MC #5)

  Jagger (The Black Hornets MC #6)

  Knox (Dead Souls MC #1)

  Grave (Dead Souls MC #2)

  Brewer (Dead Souls MC #3)

  Rock (Dead Souls MC #4)

  Diesel (Deal Souls MC #5)

  Girth (Marked Skulls MC #1)

  Rodeo (Marked Skulls MC #2)

  Abe (Marked Skulls MC #3)

  Oz (Marked Skulls MC #4)

  Dash (Marked Skulls MC #5)

  Hawk (The Road Rebels MC #1)

  Talon (The Road Rebels MC #2)

  Snake (The Road Rebels MC #3)

  Fox (The Road Rebels MC #4)

  Gunner (The Bad Disciples MC #1)

  Hunter (The Bad Disciples MC #2)

  Tank (The Bad Disciples MC #3)

  Glock (The Bad Disciples MC #4)

  About the Author

  Savannah Rylan is a romance writer that spends most of her time writing and reading with her cat, Gris. When not penning the next great American novel, (HA), you can find her on the beach with a drink in her hand or at the gym testing out some strange new position. Yoga, obviously. She lives in Southern California with her husband and Gris, the true love of her life.

  You can join her mailing list here!

  Check out her website!

 

 

 
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