Our men have all come to a stop and are already dealing with gunfire, taking what cover they can in front of the truck.
“Fuck!” Ransom roars as one of our guys goes down on his side. We’re all wearing bulletproof vests, but it looks like he’s taken a bullet to his leg.
Ransom opens his door and jumps out as I do the same. Thorn covers me, and I run to the front of the truck. At the same time, the roar of bikes fills my ears and I look down the side of the truck to see Thorn take out the guy coming at us on a bike.
“Fury! Above you!” Striker shouts and I look up just in time to dodge a bullet from an asshole on top of the truck. Ransom aims his gun at the guy and shoots, forcing the asshole to retreat towards the back of the truck.
My mind snaps.
My beast roars to life.
My fury is a living, breathing thing.
And there’s no way in hell these guys are going to win this battle.
Shouldering my rifle, I run the length of the truck, not giving a fuck that I’ve got two assholes to contend with. One of them runs dry, though, and screams, “I’m out!” to his mate whose attention is then distracted as he reaches for a mag and throws it across.
It’s enough for me to stop as I get closer and fire at them while deciding they’re fucking idiots for blowing their load too fast.
They both go down and I continue my path to the back of the truck. I’m almost there when another guy appears. He takes aim at me, but I saw his feet under the truck before I saw him,
so I’m ready. I drop to the road, to my side, and shoot up at him. The blood and gore my bullets create feed my beast and fuel my body with enough adrenaline to keep me awake for fucking days.
I’m on my feet as soon as he’s dealt with and around the back of the truck in time to find the guy who fired at me from the roof punching one of our men. Their weapons lay discarded on the road and by the looks of it, our guy isn’t doing so great.
I ditch my rifle and reach for the asshole, gripping handfuls of his shirt to pull him from our man. Spinning him around, I punch his face, knocking him backwards. He doesn’t land on his ass, though, instead stumbling for a beat and then coming back at me with his fists.
He yells some shit at me, but I’m so zoned out on the need to inflict pain I don’t take his words in.
All I want is to use my hands to deliver death.
And I do.
Punch by punch, I bring the kind of pain down on him that he begs mercy from. But I have none to give. It’s not until Ransom pulls me off him that I stop.
“He’s done,” Ransom says.
My breaths come hard and fast as I stare at the bodies littering the road. “Who the fuck were they?”
“Zenith,” Thorn says, looking as frayed as I feel.
My eyes meet Ransom’s as my mind calculates what the VP has already figured by the look in his eyes. “Your club has a fucking rat.”
He nods. “So it would fucking seem.”
King is at the clubhouse when we return. He doesn’t speak a word to me and I return the favour. Zara found no joy when she spoke with him last week, and it doesn’t seem like much has changed.
I’ve been in Melbourne for three weeks and Lynette has started giving me hell over coming home. I’m putting it off because I sense we’re getting closer to wiping Zenith out. Fuck knows I miss Noah, though, and he misses me, so I’m figuring one more week and then I’ll have to head back. If only for a visit. I want to see this shit to the end and make sure this gang never come to Sydney. That they never get close to my son or Zara.
“Fury,” Winter says, coming into the bar where I’m throwing whisky down my throat. “Need you in my office, brother.”
I follow him to his office where Ransom and King are waiting for us. He closes the door and turns to us, his expression hard. “The building raids we had planned for tonight are off. Zenith will have been tipped off about that. Axe and Griff are working their asses off combing through every club members’ personal life. We will find this fucking rat and I will deal with him.”
“Who told us Zenith had ceased business?” I ask.
“We received some calls from previous customers who’d started using them. They couldn’t get hold of anyone there over the last couple of days, so they came back to us. Griff looked into it and verified their bank accounts had been closed. As far as it appeared, they’d closed everything down and shut up shop.”
“So what the fuck does this all mean?” Ransom asks, as perplexed as me. None of it makes sense.