Page 33 of Always My Fate

“Okay. You, Oaky, get the clubhouse on full lockdown and review what prospects we’ve got on the house. I want this place turned into a fortress in the next fifteen minutes. I sent every one of you the picture Roscoe sent me of our cookout. That’s bullshit of the highest level, him feelin’ all powerful, and I’m here to tell you his confidence is going to be the fall of their push. Roscoe thinks he’s got some inside information, but we all know differently.”

Blackie stood again, still pacing but never moving far from the bed. He glanced at Peaches, her green eyes wide with worry but steady. “Gunny should be mobile. Have him and the other Baker boys hit their flanks if they get a clean shot.”

“I hear you, Blackie,” Gunny spoke up, and Blackie grinned, the expression more rictus than humorous.

“Good deal. If there’s anyone else on this call, text me so I can give you marchin’ orders. I’m runnin’ this from home. But no one rides alone. We fight smart, and we fight mean. We do not let these asses linger for a moment on our turf.”

He ended the call and immediately started another, coordinating with just Rook while keeping an eye on Peaches. She reached for his free hand and squeezed it tight.

“Blackie, go if you need to,” she whispered.

“Like fuck I’m leavin’ you,” he growled, dropping to a knee beside the bed so he could look her in the eyes. “You and Daniel are stayin’ right here where I can protect you. Those bastards want me out in the open, and they’re not gettin’ it. I’m leadin’ from here. This is my family. This is my club. And I’ll burn every last one of those MDMC asses to the ground without takin’ a single step out that door if that’s what it takes.”

His phone buzzed again and another time, with more reports flooding in. Blackie answered while stroking Peaches’ belly, his voice never losing its edge.

The major threat had finally materialized. War was at their doorstep.

But Blackie Langdon wasn’t going anywhere. Not tonight. Not while his queen and their unborn son needed him.

***

Horse

Horse crouched behind the reinforced barn wall, rifle steady in his hands as bullets chewed into the wood above his head. The night air at the Belle ranch was thick with gun smoke, the sharp crack of gunfire, and the relentless barking of Shamu as the dog strained against his lead near the safe room.

“Contact on the east fence!” one of his men shouted.

“Hold the line!” Horse roared back, popping up to squeeze off three controlled shots. A rider went down. “Do not let those bastards reach the house!”

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He ducked low, answered on speaker, and tucked it between his shoulder and ear while reloading.

“Prez,” Horse barked.

“Tell me you’re still breathin’, you stubborn son of a bitch!” Blackie’s voice exploded through the line, raw and furious. “What the fuck is goin’ on down there?!”

“MDMC hit us hard, Prez. Twenty-plus riders, some unmarked. They’re trying to breach the south and east fences at the same time. We’ve dropped at least four of ’em, but they’re coordinated. I’ve got two injured prospects. Ranch is holdin’ for now.”

Blackie let loose a string of curses so colorful it almost made Horse smile despite the bullets flying. “Those motherfuckin’, cock-suckin’, worthless MDMC shitheels! And that backstabbing Roscoe is pullin’ their goddamn strings! You listen to me, Horse, you do NOT let them get anywhere near that house. Burn every round you’ve got if you have to!”

Horse popped up again, firing two quick shots that dropped another rider trying to scale the fence. “Already on it, Prez. Rook’s crew linking up with us?”

“Negative. He and Oaky are coordinating to deal with the corridor that the assholes are carving up. But we got Iron Riggers rolling your way with heavy backup. I’m runnin’ this from the house. The personal aspect of some of the threats have me convinced they’re attemptin’ to bait me out into the clear. I’ve got Peaches and Daniel safe, but these bastards are pushin’ on all three fronts to stretch us thin. You hold that ranch like it’s the last fuckin’ piece of ground on earth, you hear me? Trust your men, delegate the flanks, and keep those bastards down.”

“Copy that!” Horse replied, voice steady even as adrenaline pumped through him. He signaled two of his patches to shift position. “We’re not losin’ Belle tonight, Prez. Not on my watch.”

Blackie’s growl came through again, fierce and proud. “Damn right you’re not. You’ve earned that patch ten times over, Horse. Now make those MDMC ghosts regret ever comin’ at my club. I’ll keep the lines open. Kill every last one of those fuckers you can!”

Horse ended the call and shoved the phone back in his pocket. He rose up, firing another controlled burst as more riders tried to push forwards.

“Reload and rotate!” he shouted to his chapter. “Blackie’s sendin’ reinforcements. We hold this ground for the club, for Glenna, but most importantly for every brother who bled here before us!”

Shots rang out across the darkened ranch. Horse’s jaw tightened with grim determination.

The fight for Belle had turned into all-out war.

And the Freed Riders weren’t backing down.

***