Page 59 of Forgiveness
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Flux
Knives. Chains. Killswitches. The bar had been shoved up in a big way.
Blood splattered everywhere.
Cries. Groans. Curses.
The sound of bones splintering, air escaping from lungs, and thethudof bodies hitting the ground. Then a metallic scent filled Flux’s nostrils, and he knew the fist fight had turned into a carnage. The smell of blood was something Flux would never forget as long as he lived. Images of Alicia and Emily flashed through his mind as he warded off an attack by a Satan’s Piston who was built like a goddamn brick-house.
“Fuck!” Tank’s voice rose above the noise. The Insurgent had come out from behind the trees with the others to throw themselves into the fight.
Tank was on the ground and a burly motherfucker with a big ass knife in his hand straddled the Insurgent. Without thinking, Flux slipped his hand inside his cut and withdrew the hunting knife as he rushed over to help out Tank. Just as the asshole was ready to sink his blade into Tank’s gut, Flux plunged his into the asshole’s back. The guy cried out and it gave a split-second advantage to Tank who threw the Piston off him, and then began to kick the shit out of him.
Flux looked around at the carnage. A majority of his brothers were still standing, Diablo and Smokey half-dragged Rock to a safer spot from what looked like a gnarly jagged knife wound in the sergeant-at-arm’s calf.Fuck, that isn’t something he can just sleep off.Flux winced and surveyed the remaining bikers who were still duking it out something fierce.
Sirens in the distance sliced through the hatred.Sonofabitch, what fuckin’ narc called the badges?Flux glanced over at Hawk, who’d just clobbered a Piston on the back of the neck with a kill switch. Hawk let out two loud whistles that told the members to disengage from whatever they were doing and get the fuck out. The sirens drew nearer. They were running out of time, and none of them wanted to deal with the legal bullshit.
“Fuckin’ badges!” Flux yelled, in case some of his brothers hadn’t heard the whistles in the heat of the moment. With his own adrenaline pumping, there were times when he could’ve easily missed the signal because he was so intent on beating a dude’s face to a pulp.
He watched Steel and Goldie scramble toward one of the SUVs carrying Sangre in between them with both his arms on either shoulder as his legs dragged behind him. The rest of the members hustled to the SUVs, and Flux looked behind him and saw that more than a few Pistons weren’t moving from the dirt. The ones who were still standing rushed to drag their injured on the back of their motorcycles.
“Come on, dude!” Tank yelled as he held open the back door of one of the SUVs. Several of the others had already hit the road, their tail lights disappearing into the night.
“I’m good. Just get the fuck outta here!” Flux shouted back.
The flash of red and blue lights above the hill reflected in the haziness.
“Go!” Flux yelled.
The black vehicle took off before Tank closed the door. He lifted his chin at Flux then the door slammed and the car hit the road. The screech of tires behind Flux told him that the Pistons were hauling ass away from the lot. It was time for him to follow suit. Flux swallowed, cracked his neck, and booked it on foot to the rodeo arena. Still sore and aching in places that were going to hurt like a-bitch-and-a-half in the shower the following morning, he ran until his lungs ached. When he arrived at the fairgrounds, he got lost in the rodeo crowd then ducked into a bathroom to clean himself off. A quick rinse on his face and arms, and a clean T-shirt and pair of jeans from his locker behind the ring, and no one would be the wiser, aside from a few scrapes, cuts, and a slight swelling of his bottom lip.
The bruises that would crop up by the following day would be hidden under his clothes, only Maggie would know about them. Flux made a small noise in his throat, enjoying the imagery of his girl kissing every inch of him, trying to make the pain go away before she slipped his hard dick between her full lips. Fuck, that would put a nice cap on the end of his day. He made a mental note to text her a request before he went back to the motel.
“Where you been?” Jack asked as Flux came out of the bathroom, freshly cleaned and dressed, and glanced at the crumpled clothes Flux held in his hands.
“Around. I still feel like shit from yesterday. I think it’s food poisoning.”
“Oh yeah? Where’d you eat?”
“Got some chili at the convenience store. Did they get someone to replace me out in the ring tonight?”
“Yeah. Chet’s in bad shape. Some fuckers ambushed him when he was in town. They beat him up pretty bad.”
“Too bad.” Flux opened his locker and took out a paper bag and shoved his clothes inside it.
“Yeah. He’ll be outta commission for the rest of the rodeo. Heard he’s gonna go back to Arkansas.” Jack shrugged. “No sense in stickin’ around if you can’t compete.”
“When’s he leaving?” Flux clenched his jaw.
“Probably soon. I don’t know for sure. Charlie’s talking to him now.”
“Keep me informed. I like to know whose ass I’m protecting in the ring.”
“Will do,” Jack said then ambled away.
Flux went to the stalls in search of Pete to ask him to give Flux a ride to the motel. He couldn’t wait to get back to Maggie and find out what Charlie’s response was to everything he and Maggie had uncovered with Chet taking shit and Eddie doping the bulls. Flux rubbed his forehead. It was enough to give him a nasty headache—everything was so damn screwed up.
