“Everyone knows where they’re going? Know what the plan is? If you get a chance, shoot, Chey’s life may depend on it,” Willow’s quiet partner ordered.
“Okay, let’s go,” Celt said, bouncing on his heels.
They crept along the track; weapons were drawn by their side. Willow and Lio took the lead, and they split up when they reached the overcrowded clearing. Willow led the way towards the front of the house with Celt at her tail. A hint of blue caught Celt’s eye, and he gazed into the bushes and tapped Lio on the shoulder. Lio frowned in the direction that Celt pointed in and moved silently in that path.
“Shit, it’s Tobias,” Lio hissed.
“Shotgun to back of the head. Celt sent everyone a text. Their phones had been turned to vibrate on Willow’s orders and crept back to where Willow crouched. Lio had previously updated her.
“Do we storm the cabin or not?” Lio asked as his gaze searched for any hint of movement.
“Celt, get inside now!” Shee’s bellow came from the side, and Celt broke into a run before he knew what he was doing. Willow cursed fluently as she ran after him. Celt didn’t break stride as he bounded up the steps and booted the door in. The image that met his horrified sight was one Celt would never forget until his death bed.
Chey lay lifelessly on the floor, Higgins’ hands around her throat. Chey’s dead eyes stared at him as Higgins screamed, spittle flying everywhere. Two steps and Celt kicked Higgins straight in the head. Lio shoved Celt aside as he felt for a pulse.
“Got one,” Lio cried as Willow dropped next to him, and they began CPR. Too late, he was too late; the words kept running through Celt’s head as he turned and faced the screaming Higgins. Celt yanked him from the cabin and threw him down the steps without a word. Leaping after him, Celt stamped on Higgins’ hand, shattering bones and making the asshole scream again. Celt dragged the wailing man up at an angle and kicked his knee so furiously the snap was audible across the clearing.
Silently, Celt knelt over Higgins and unleashed a flurry of blows, breaking his jawbone, cheekbone, eye socket, and whatever else he could. Celt needed Higgins in a world of hurt, and he was unleashing pain in every possible way. All Celt could hear was the roaring of fury in his ears as he punched and kicked the asshole into a shapeless lump of meat. He wouldn’t stop until the cunt stopped breathing, but he was dragged to the ground by Chance.
Angrily trying to flip Chance off his back, Celt reached out and jabbed two fingers into Higgins’ throat. The noise the man-made when his oxygen supply was cut off was horrific, and Celt struggled under Chance’s weight, which was joined by Shee and Bear sitting on him. Betrayed, Celt roared his fury to the heavens as Gold moved the sodden mess away from Celt.
“Chey’s breathing; she’s alive. Willow restarted her heart,” Chance bellowed into Celt’s ear repeatedly. Celt still didn’t take the words in, howling his grief and trying to reach the one thing that had caused this pain. Gold stared at Celt in concern, pulled his gun out, but pointed downwards.
“Chance, if Celt comes for me, I’ll have to put him down!” Gold warned. Chance gave up reasoning with Celt, grabbed his hair, and rammed his head into the ground. Stunned for a few seconds, it was all Chance needed to get through to Celt.
“Cheyenne’s breathing, they resuscitated her!” Chance bellowed, nearly deafening Celt. The words impacted a mind red with rage and dark with murder. Slowly, the message sank through the murderous mist in Celt’s mind, and his body stiffened before relaxing.
“Chey?” Celt asked. His head turned to the steps where Lio was sitting with Chey on his lap. Bruised eyes were staring in his direction. Chey was barely conscious, but there was life in her. Celt bucked and dislodged Bear and Shee and crawled towards Chey with Chance on his back. His girl, she was there, he had to hold her. Chance finally rolled off Celt as he reached Lio and snatched Chey from him. Celt curled his body around hers and began to rock making soothing noises. His hand cupped her head and tucked her under his chin.
“Ambo is on the way,” Willow said, eyeing Celt warily.
“Celt going to do time?” Chance asked Willow.
“No idea. I saw nothing. We found a body, and for all we know, Tobias caused those injuries,” Willow replied softly as Celt crooned a song to Chey, rocking her in his arms. Chey’s worried eyes stared at them as she struggled to breathe through the swelling in her throat.
“Shit, I was out back watching in case Tobias escaped. Didn’t notice Higgin’s body is over there,” Grey said, approaching.
“Witnessed a man collapsed in agony at his girl’s death,” Gold added, causing everyone to send him a shocked look. “What? If Celt had come at me, it would be a different story, but I felt that grief. Celt controlled himself long enough to get to Chey. Ain’t damning no guy for that.”
“Ah, to hell with it, I reckon Tobias and Higgins must have got into a fight,” Lio grinned.
“You gonna get in trouble, girl?” Chance asked Willow quietly. She sent him a thoughtful look.
“Uncle Chance, I vowed to uphold the law, and I will always do so. But I also swore to be a wonderful daughter and remain loyal to my family. Rage and Hellfire are my family. My childhood was about cookouts in the clubhouse yards, sitting gossiping, being spoiled by both MC’s. The way I see shit, that asshole strangled Chey and got what he deserved. We brought her back, but make no mistake, Chey was dead when we arrived. I couldn’t believe it when we got a pulse. Someone was looking out for Cheyenne today, and I’m watching out for my family.”
“Willow, girl, can’t say how proud I am,” Chance said, grabbing Willow by the neck as they heard sirens in the distance. Chance dropped his forehead to Willow’s, and they stood there for a few moments before Willow snapped to attention.
“Right, let’s get our stories sorted,” Willow called to Gold, Grey, and Lio and took them aside.
“Fuck, I hope I’m as proud of Louisa one day as I am Willow,” Chance added and made a mental note to call Axel. The man should know how well his kid had turned out.
???
“When can I leave?” I asked the doctor huskily. My throat was killing me, and it was so swollen, speech was hard.
“In a day or two, Miss Markham,” the guy responded, smiling kindly.
“Yes, but we’ve had three reporters sneak in,” I pointed out. They’d not got past Hellfire, who’d pounced, and Celt had tackled one so roughly he’d rammed the asshole's head into the ground.