Page 55 of Chance's Hell


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“Clio, let go,” Chance urged.

“No, I can’t, if I let go Magic may bleed out,” I muttered still holding the wounded man’s eyes.

“Clio, you gotta let go,” Chance urged, and I shook my head. Magic had taken the bullet meant for me, no way was I letting go.

“It’s okay,” Magic whispered.

“No, it’s not, that bullet had my name on it, I’m not letting Magic go,” I yelled suddenly.

“Get ready,” Chance warned Lio and without warning, latched his arms around me and picked me up before carrying me outside the bar. Lio knelt in my place as I erupted into hysterics. Finally, I was safe, I could now let go, and boy, did I let go. I screamed and kicked at Chance, wordless animalistic cries left my mouth as tears streamed down my face. Chance put me on my feet, and I collapsed to the ground, Chance came with me holding me tight. For several minutes I carried on, not taking in Chance’s words but just screaming and crying, finally I gazed up and saw a circle of bikers surrounding me.

I rose to my feet in a sudden motion and launched at a bearded biker who caught me in his arms. The Unwanted Bastards president held me tight as he made soothing sounds, and finally, my cries slowed, and he passed me back to Chance. I clung to Chance as if my life depended on him, the Unwanted Bastards president was alive. Magic would live, he had to live, and Slimy Sam would join Randy Ron and Tommy in jail. Those behind the bidding on my rape and torture were also facing jail time, and everything was okay, except I was rocked to my bones.

“Got you, Goddess,” Chance whispered in my ear, and I nodded, Chance had me indeed.

???

Tati was as distressed as Leslie when we rode back to Hellfire. Both women were pacing the clubhouse as I walked in, soaked with blood. I’d been in Slimy Sam’s clutches for three hours. Three long terrifying hours, I’d been found pretty quickly, but Sam had led everyone on a wild chase, that luckily ended at Magic’s.

When I entered wearing Chance’s white tee soaked in blood, Leslie had let out a small scream, and it was a race who got me first. Behind us walked in several clubs, the clubhouse was jammed packed. All of Rage, bar two prospects had ridden out from Rapid City searching around there. Satan’s Warriors and the Devil’s Scythe walked in followed by nearly all the Unwanted Bastards, their president and VP were missing, both on their way to the hospital. Inglorious the president was thought to have broken an arm, and his VP, Psych went with him to get it checked.

Bear and Diesel had gone with him, but the rest of Hellfire was present. Mixed in amongst everyone else was the MC Devil’s Damned Disciples who’d blocked the roads to force Slimy Sam to where they wanted him to go. Chance left his brothers to look after the visitors and took me straight out back where he dumped me into a shower and washed me clean. He re-washed me a second and third time as I begged Chance to get me clean. Honestly, I didn’t want to wash Magic’s blood from me, but I wanted all signs of Slimy Sam gone.

Finally, I deemed I was clean enough, and Chance got me a pair of jeans I kept at the clubhouse and one of his tee’s. My torso was covered in bruises and Chance had kissed every one of them, each time he did, there was murder in his eyes. Chance’s tee swamped me, but it hid the fact I wore an ugly sports bra, the only thing I could wear against my bruises. When we re-joined everyone, Chance sat me in the most comfortable sofa while Tati fussed over me piling pillows around my sore body.

One by one, the different MC’s came over and introduced themselves. Gratefully, I thanked every single one of them for riding out and several blushed and gave an ‘Aw shucks’ look. A commotion at the entrance of the packed clubhouse made me glance up and in strode Inglorious. I was up and out of my chair and racing towards the man who’d dragged me from the car. I crashed into his arms, and he gave a small laugh and dropped a kiss on my head.

“You’re one crazy man!” I exclaimed, and his laugh echoed.

“You’re one crazy bitch, I never thought you’d lean out that window, not with that fucker firing bullets at you. Shit, Chance you should have fuckin’ seen her, brave as fuck this lass,” Inglorious rumbled. He gave me a gentle squeeze and passed me back to Chance who wasn’t muttering for once about me hugging another man.

“Nearly put my bike in the road when I heard what you were tryin’ to fuckin’ pull man,” Chance replied, settling me back down into the chair.

“Got a good’un Chance,” Jailbait the president of the Devil’s Damned Disciples called across the room.

“Girl was cool under pressure, although watch her mouth, she’s pretty potty when she loses it!” Inglorious replied, laughing. “Should have heard the language girl aimed at that prick.” I blushed as male laughter echoed around the room. I wondered if this was normal, six MC’s drinking together and laughing together.

“Yes, it is, these clubs are affiliated,” Tati explained, leaning forward and reading my face. “The clubs hold a meet every three months and take turns whose clubhouse they meet in. The six of them agreed and agreed to support one another. When Chance called, there was no way they’d ignore his request for help, a president’s old lady being kidnapped is one of the worse crimes to be committed. They’re wild, maybe one or two of them barely legal, but they understand what Chance and Drake built and respect them for it.

They’ll ride when someone calls, same as Hellfire and Rage will ride when they call, no questions asked, they created a bond of brotherhood between them. Of course, they’re not as tight as Hellfire and Rage, but they’re tight. It’s a wonderful group, they rarely get together for a blow out like this.”

“Thanks, Tati,” I whispered as a couple of guys wearing Satans Scythe’s came across with beers in hand. One of them hugged Tati, and she introduced me to her cousin who winked and took a seat and entertained me with stories of a young Tati.

Midnight came and went, and it was three in the morning before the last MC rode away. Some of Rage had crashed in spare rooms, but the other clubs had gone home. Each president had made me put their phone number into my phone before they left as did their VP’s. I was stunned, but Chance explained all the head old ladies had their phone numbers and told me he’d explain the phone tree later. I nodded wearily, bone-tired and sore beyond belief, the last words I heard was the bomb threat had been fake. I was asleep before my head hit my pillow.

Epilogue.

Chance was up to something I realised two weeks later, that was okay, because so was I. I’d found a print shop who’d printed up precisely what I wanted, and I’d wrapped his gift before Chance caught sight of it. I was planning to give him it tonight, but Chance had insisted we spend the night at the clubhouse, so there I was waiting impatiently at the cabin for my man to arrive.

There’d been lots of paused conversations between Chance, Big Al and Rooster and secret grins from Leslie and Tati. Curiously, I wondered what the hell happening, every time I asked, the two women sidled away or made excuses and frantically disappeared. I gave up, whatever Chance was up to I’d find out soon enough.

I knew it wasn’t to do with the three assholes who’d attacked me. A week ago, a fight had broken out in the prison they were in, and Tommy and Slimy Sam had been stabbed to death. Randy Ron was in secure custody but facing a life sentence for what he’d done to me. The ring had been taken down, and many high-powered businessmen had been caught in the sting. There was no more threat from them, I was finally free.

Rage and Hellfire had both worked hard the last two weeks repairing the bikes damaged when Slimy Sam crashed the car into Unwanted Bastards. Neither club had charged for the repairs despite Inglorious trying to pay at least the cost of parts. Chance refused payment and Drake followed suit, Inglorious had saved family, and that was all that mattered to the cousins.

Chance roared up the road and pulled up in front of the cabin. Patiently I’d been sitting on the swing, waiting for him to arrive so clambered to my feet and marched over to the bike. He sent me a grin, and I noticed he’d had his hair and goatee trimmed, what on earth was going on?

“Ready?” Chance asked as I walked towards him, my gift hidden under my riding jacket.

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