Purge (Death Crusaders Motorcycle Club) (6 page)

“Really? I find it a little
weird that you had plans of going down to Belize, the very same place I wound
up hiding out in.”

“Honest, that’s not where I
had planned on going. We ended up dumping over two hundred grand in drug money
and we had to use almost thirty grand of my own money just to get the quality
of papers that would get us through customs. After spending that we just didn’t
have the money to grease the wheels to get us to where we wanted to go. So…
thanks for that.”           

“Remind me why you’re here
again.”

“You mean other than saving
your ass?”

“For which I have already
expressed my gratitude.”

“Why are you back here?” He
demands.

“That’s really none of your
damn business.” I shoot back. Then after a moment; “So what happened when I
left?”

“The big Purge, that’s what
happened Jen.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“Soon as the Crusaders rode
into town en-mass we knew there was gonna be a war. No way the existing clubs,
the Advocates and the Sleazebags, were gonna let a new club ride into town and
take over. It just wasn’t going to happen. So we waited and gathered Intel and
got ready to take on whichever club ended up on top of the heap.”

“Okay…”

“We were all set to do a
sweep and take them down when all hell breaks loose. Someone leaked a photo of
me in my cut with Blade in his and sitting on our motorcycles. I was about to
come on duty and was running an hour late when my partner calls my burner and
tells me not to come in. When I asked why he just said my secret’s out. Then he
said it was nice working with me and goodbye. He didn’t say it, but he was
really pissed. The only reason he gave me a heads up and didn’t let the
department blindside me is because I walked in front of a bullet for him. Later
he did text me. It was a simple text; ‘we’re even,’ it said.”

“I didn’t leak the photo.”

“Prove it.”

“The photo that got leaked,
how many people were in it?”

“Just me and Blade.” He
replies.

“How many photos did I take?”

“Three.”

I grab my purse and inside a
false bottom is a small, thin leather wallet. I dig this out and hold up three
pictures that I took that night. He makes like he’s going to reach for them so
I jerk my hand back, and put them back in the wallet and return them to my
purse.

“I can’t believe you still
have those.” He says.

“Yeah…for the longest time
they were my insurance policy but now I’m not sure what good they serve.”

“I don’t suppose you would
entertain giving them to me would you?”

I shake my head emphatically.
Then a thought occurs to me. Maybe he followed me here for the purpose of
getting his hands on my pictures. There’s one other thing I have hidden that I
didn’t show him. I kept a single one hundred dollar bill as an insurance policy
as well. He doesn’t need to know that though.

“Did you come here to get
these pictures?” I ask, patting my purse.

“I need them Jen. You managed
to get away once with them but I can’t let you do that again. I need them. With
the one picture the department has, a good lawyer may be able to cast doubt as
to whether that proves I am or was a member. Maybe I just tried on the cut and
sat on a cool bike. After all, I don’t and have never had a motorcycle
registered to me and have never owned a motorcycle license. What kind of biker
has no bike or license? But if three more pictures show up no one will not
believe that I am a Death Crusader too.”

“So why didn’t you get that
good lawyer?”

“Stop trying to distract me.
You’re going to give me those pictures so why not make it easy on both of us
and just give them to me?”

I try not to glance at his
waistband or to make it obvious I’m thinking about his gun. Mine is sitting out
of reach on the corner of my bed. No way can I get my hands on it before he can
draw his and drill me in the head. When Mark first showed up I was relieved,
the terrified, then relieved all over again. But now that he is showing his true
colors my fear is revisiting me with a vengeance. I don’t think I can count on
another ‘friend’ to burst through that door and save me this time. This one is
going to be up to me.

“Hello…Jennifer, the pictures
please.”     

Mark takes a step towards me like
he’s trying to close the distance between us without spooking me. I sit still
racking my brain, trying to figure out how to get out of this one. Why
shouldn’t I give them to him? If he has them that means I’m no threat and he
can leave me alone. He’ll probably burn them and leave.

“What will you do with them?”
I ask.

“Burn them of course. I can’t
chance them seeing the light of day, now can I?”

“I won’t use them against you
Mark. I’ve had them for like two years and I haven’t done a thing with them and
I won’t unless you turn on me. If you can just leave me alone you’ll never have
to worry about them getting to the police.”

“What, am I supposed to risk
my life on the word of an ex-girlfriend who doesn’t like me? That’s a huge and
unnecessary risk.”

On the word risk, he lunges
across the bed, grabbing for my legs. Rather than trying to get away I kick as
hard as I can, successfully batting his arms aside. He draws back and smiles
grimly. I can tell he thinks this is a game between us. He hasn’t gotten serious
with me yet. When he does he may just pull his gun on me and make my life
really difficult. But for now he contents himself with making these half-assed
grabs at my legs.

“Come on Jen, why you gotta
play hard to get? Just cough up the pics and be done with it.”

“Why can’t you just trust me?
Have I ever given you reason not to trust me?”

“You broke into my house
twice to get evidence on me. I’d say that’s a pretty non-trusting thing to do.”

“And you harassed me
for...forever. You’re the one with issues here. And besides-”

A soft knock on the door puts
an end to our conversation.

“Are you expecting company?”
He whispers, taking out his gun.

I shake my head no and grab
for my own gun. He opens his mouth to object but decides not to. Instead he
points to my gun. “You maybe should take the safety off this time and chamber a
round.”

I give him my most annoyed
look in my arsenal and do as requested. More knocking. This time louder, more
insistent.

“Go ahead and answer.” Mark
whispers.

“Who is it?” I ask.

Mark positions himself to the
right side of the door so when and if it opens they won’t see him at first. He
motions with his gun for me to get out of sight.

“Room service.” The person on
the other side of the door calls out.

“I didn’t order any room
service.” I call out.

“It’s a courtesy call for our
preferred guests. Just a platter of snacks, that’s all.”

“Great, why don’t you leave
them at the door for me?” I reply.

“Sorry ma’am but someone else
will probably take them. It’s a nice platter actually.”

“I’ll take my chances.” I
reply.

“As you wish.” The stranger
says.

I take a deep sigh of relief.
I really thought it was some kind of assassin or something. After all that’s
happened since I came into town you can’t be sure.

“Thanks.” I call out.

I hear the clatter of trays
outside my door. I stick my gun in my waistband and go to the front door to
open it.

“Stop!” Mark hisses.

I shoot an annoyed look in
his direction, take one more step when the door bursts open. Two men in black
with masks over their heads burst into the room. I’m so shocked I stumble
backwards, landing painfully on my ass. That little stunt saves my life as the
first burst of gunfire sears the air just over my head! Pain shoots across my
lower back, taking my breath away as I land on my gun. Both men step into the
room and one slams the door behind him as the other re orients his gun on me.

That’s when Mark springs into
action. As the door starts to swing shut he steps out from behind it, puts the
barrel of his gun to the closest man’s temple and squeezes the trigger. His
body lurches forward as bone bits, brain and blood showers my face and upper
body. I just barely manage to roll to the side preventing him from falling on
top of me.

The second man turns to face
Mark. His gun jumps and flames shoot out of the barrel dangerously close to
Mark. The first bullet catches him in the middle of his chest sending him
crashing against the wall. I see a bright red spray of blood as the second
bullet tears into his left arm. Mark slides to the floor.

As the man advances on Mark I
twist around painfully and reach behind my back  for my gun, praying I didn’t
put the safety on when I stuffed it in my waistband. My whole world seems to be
mired in molasses as the masked man brings his gun to bear on Mark, aiming for
his head this time. When my hand finally clasps around my own weapon it seems
like it takes forever. I have no time to aim and as I squeeze the trigger two
thoughts are in my head. I hope I don’t accidently shoot Mark and maybe I
should shoot Mark. It would certainly solve one problem.

My gun jumps in my hand as
superheated gasses explode from the barrel. I had intended to shoot several
times but the damn thing comes flipping out of my grip as I shoot and lands in
my lap. At first I’m sure I missed. No way could I have hit the guy even though
he is like five feet from me. But to my shock his knees buckle and he drops to
the floor, falling backwards and on top of my legs. I scramble for my gun but it’s
pinned beneath the masked man. Terrified he will shoot me now I thrash about
crazily, trying to get out from underneath him. My ears are ringing like
Christmas bells and my mouth has this coppery, nasty warm taste of blood; and
it’s not mine either.

Finally I get out from
beneath the guy. Once on my hands and knees I just keep crawling for the space
underneath the desk nearest me. I’m too terrified to even turn around. If he’s
gonna shoot me I don’t wanna see it. He can shoot me in the back for all I
care.

“Jen! Jennifer…it’s okay.”
Whispers a voice.

I keep my crawling and I
don’t stop until I’m under the tiny desk where I draw my knees up to my chin
and burry my face.

“Jennifer, it’s okay.”

Slowly I look up. Mark is
kneeling in front of me, blood running from his left arm. I can’t believe he’s
alive.

“He…he s-shot you in the
c-chest.” I stammer. “How are y-you even a-alive?”

For an answer he pulls down
the collar of his shirt to reveal a bullet proof vest. The he lifts up the
bottom of his tee shirt to reveal a tiny round piece of lead sunk partway into
his vest.

“Oh my god…holy smokes
there’s the bullet. Does it hurt?”

“It actually hurts worse than
the one that hit my arm. I feel like I just got hit with a sledge hammer.”

“Oh shit, I forgot.”

He starts to remove his
leather jacket but his arm’s not moving so well so I crawl out of my little
hiding place to assist. When we get his jacket off, I help him peel off his
shirt. I start to use it to wipe the blood from his arm but he stops me and
takes it and instead wipes off my face. All of a sudden my stomach begins to
roll. I barely have time to grab the trash can next to me before puking into
it. I don’t know if I’ll ever get the taste of gore out of my mouth and the
smell is just as bad.

As I lift my head from the
basket a towel appears in front of me. I take in gratefully and continue to
wipe.

“How bad is it?” I finally
ask, pointing to his arm. It actually doesn’t look bad at all. Just a small
round hole with a trickle of blood running down over his bicep.

“It’s a flesh wound. It just
needs to be cleaned out so it doesn’t get infected. I’ve had much worse believe
me.”

“Yes…you have.”

“I can’t believe you shot
that guy.” He remarks.

“I can’t either. D-did I
k-kill…” I can’t finish my sentence.

“No. You shot him in the
thigh and I shot him in the chest. He’s dead but you saved my life Jen. You
gave me the two seconds I needed to recover and shoot him. Otherwise he’d have
blown my brains out.”

“What are we going to do now?
This place is a war zone in here.”

“Did you use your own name or
ID when you checked in? Did you use a card or cash?”

“I just gave cash and they
didn’t ask for any ID.”

“Why don’t you get yourself
cleaned up and I’ll do some cleaning myself here. We don’t want to leave any
evidence that either of us were ever here. Then we’ll go our separate ways. You
should find yourself another motel like this one. Don’t leave any kind of paper
trail wherever you go. Someone obviously knows you’re in town and wants you
dead.”

I really don’t want to take a
shower with Mark here but I guess it’s safe. If he wanted to rape me or
otherwise harm me he’s had plenty of chances. If I don’t take a long hot shower
I’m never going to stop vomiting. Blood is caked in my hair and dried on my
clothes and skin.