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  Jimmy continued, “Colt McClain and Randy Ford seek to spill the blood of every last standing Devil… What do you say to that?!”

  “Kill them first!”

  “Go! Claim what redemption is ours!”

  Colt stared at his half-brother with troubled eyes. He really was going to have to kill the bastard, and tonight would be the night to do it.

  ***

  “Holy shit, am I glad to see you!” Tim yelled as he saw who had emerged from the truck at the gates of Hall Ranch.

  Harlan, Reed and a truck full of guys from the gym climbed out, but they weren’t alone. Four more trucks pulled up behind them, loaded with men loyal to Colt, Randy and Tim, heavily armed and ready for a fight.

  Harlan spoke up, “Colt and Randy said you might need help… There’s more coming.”

  “Do we ever,” Tim said reaching out to slap Harlan’s hand.

  “Lucky we were still at the gym. Colt and Randy came running in saying they needed all able bodies to help fight off the Devils. I hate those sons of bitches!” Harlan said.

  “And we’ve come prepared,” Reed said as he held up a set of hunting rifles.

  Colt and Randy had gone in each establishment on Monument Avenue where they knew they could wrangle up some willing and able men to challenge the Seventy Devils. The men of Oakeley had rose to the occasion. In all, there were thirty-seven men total.

  “Where is my brother and Colt?”

  “They’re coming… They had to get the truck.”

  ***

  Colt slid his key into the ignition, and before Randy was even entirely in the door, he had kicked on the accelerator, barreling ass out of the parking lot and towards Route 1, zipping out of Oakeley and hell bound for Hall Ranch.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Hall Ranch was silent as Jimmy’s foot stepped over the property line. All the free and living Devils stood behind him, no longer vocal but quiet as the grave. Jimmy scanned the horizon looking for some movement, some sign that anyone was here, but he saw nothing out of the ordinary. Jimmy didn’t trust the calm. Knowing that looks could be deceiving, he sent two guys in – DeMarco and Shepards – to further investigate. They went twenty feet in, peered around, but concluded that no one was home. They concluded wrong. The moment DeMarco and Reeds turned around, a pair of bullets found their home, wedged deep in their skulls. As they fell to the ground, Jimmy’s face screwed up, a murderous shade of red.

  “Kill them all. Except her. I’ll deal with her.”

  ***

  Tim laid on his belly in the high grass with his rifle zoned in on the Devils who were charging up the driveway. Next to him lie Harlan and Torian who picked six off as they rushed towards the house. It was almost too easy, thought Tim. These bastards may be sadistic but they had no combat training whatsoever.

  Jimmy approached the house, ignoring the fact that eight of his men were down. Brazenly, Jimmy grabbed the door knob. It was locked. The Devils spread out, but the shots continued. Bang! Bang! Bang! Three more Devils down.

  “Where the fuck are those shots coming from?!”

  Averi squeezed the trigger again, this time hitting the grass at Jimmy Hearns’ feet.

  “Shit!” she said as she tried again. This time she shot Dave Grisham in the leg.

  Tim crawled on his elbows in the grass, adjusting his position.

  “Quietly. The slower and softer you move, the less likely they are to notice your position. Now hold it. See the three on the porch,” he said to Jax, Torian and Harlan. “Now!”

  In unison, they squeezed their trigger, and three more Devils fell to the ground.

  Jimmy was becoming spooked, he took cover again under the deck while Trent and Gunnar began scoping out the fields to see where the shots were coming from. Jimmy tried to kick in the door. His boot banged against the wood surface, but the door didn’t budge. When Jimmy went to kick the door again, he got more than he bargained for. The front door swung open and Captain Shawn Hall barged out with a shot gun in his hand and a lethal glare in his eyes.

  “Get the fuck off my property!” he said as he cocked the shot gun, ready to pull it.

  Jimmy looked stunned, Dave Hearns who stood behind him said, “A little out of your jurisdiction, aren’t ya, Cap’n…”

  “When it comes to my family I have no fucking jurisdiction!”

  Bang!

  Shawn screamed as he blew a hole in Dave Grisham’s gut. Dave fell to the ground, his entrails exposed as the life drained from his eyes. The shot gun blast stunned Jimmy. At first he didn’t know if his eyes had deceived him, but before he could run, Shawn had sent a heavy blow with his fist to Jimmy’s head sending him spiraling backwards off the porch. Shawn waded into the crowd, blasting as many Devils as he could. Thirty more men who were loyal to Shawn, Colt and Randy flooded from the house seizing the opportunity to kick some Devil ass. Gunnar Rhoades shot off two, but missed. The Devils split up, some going around the house, others trying to get inside. Tim picked off one who was trying to smash the living room window. Jax caught another between the eyes as he snuck around the side of the house. Jimmy picked himself up off the ground seizing a moment where no ones eyes seemed to be on him. Sneaking inside the house, he shut the door behind him.

  ***

  “Pick up the rifle, Shell!”

  “I’m afraid!”

  “You don’t have time to be afraid! Pick up the goddamn rifle! Do it!”

  Shelly reluctantly picked up the gun.

  “It’s loaded! All you need to do is aim and pull!”

  “I don’t want to hurt anyone!”

  “You better, before they come and hurt us! C’mon girl! I’m not sitting up here like a sitting duck… We need to defend ourselves. Tim is down there! Let’s go!”

  The front lawn of the ranch looked like a war zone. There were bodies littered across the grass. Shelly gasped as she saw the mayhem spread out before her. But when she saw Tim running through the crowd, taking down as many as he could, Shelly was reminded of what she had to do. Though her hands shook, Shelly followed Averi’s lead and shot a volley in the crowd.

  ***

  Cheyenne’s breath hitched as she tried to see what was happening from the back seat of Gunnar’s truck. She was unable to break free of her binds this time, and was freaking out with the sound of gunshot and screams coming from just ahead. Where the hell was Randy? That is when she heard it. Rancid screaming out the speakers of Colt’s truck. He was barreling ninety miles an hour up the drive, kicking dirt up and running over the dead bodies of two slain Devils. Cheyenne was horrified by the look of pure hatred in Randy’s eyes, but it was nothing compared to the look on Colt’s face.

  Colt would not rest until they were all dead.

  Randy had his gun out and he was shooting at anything in black. As Colt brought the truck to a skidding stop, Randy jumped out, running straight for his target. Trent glared at Randy who was charging at him like an on-coming train. He hurried to load his gun, but Randy was coming at him, fast and hard, and with his fists flying, Randy laid him out flat on his back.

  “Where is she?! Where is she, mother fucker?!” Randy demanded to know slamming Trent against the ground. “C’mon get up!” He put a gun to Trent’s head. “Walk. Take me to her. NOW.” Randy was not messing around. If Trent dared play any games with him, he would not hesitate. He would kill Trent.

  “What makes you think I have her…?”

  “You’re always fucking interfering in some way. Now where is she?!”

  “Hmm… I’m not sure…” Trent said clearly bullshitting.

  Randy took the safety of his gun off and jammed his weapon under Trent’s chin, ready to shoot.

  “Try again!”

  Trent gave Randy a sadistic smile. The answer would not come easily from him, but then a cry sounded out into the night.

  ***

  Cheyenne wriggled into the front seat, trying to get as close as she could to the cigarette lighter on the front dashboard. Backi
ng herself up to the dash, she reached her fingers, pulling the lighter from its holder. She missed her first few attempts, but then she finally grabbed hold of it. Stretching her hands, she struggled to burn the ropes around her wrists, but as the heat from the lighter singed the rope, she was able to free her hands. As soon as her hands were free, she ripped the bandana from her mouth and screamed for Randy.

  ***

  “Cheyenne?!” Randy yelled looking over towards Gunnar’s truck that was badly littered with bullet holes. Randy could see Cheyenne banging on the windshield.

  “You motherfucker!” he said snarling at Trent.

  Randy wanted to shoot him dead right there, but instead he grabbed hold of his jacket and pushed his gun to his back and pushed him closer to the truck where Cheyenne was locked inside. She struggled to open the truck door, but after a moment she did and hurled herself out of the truck and into Randy’s arms. He almost didn’t recognize her, but he didn’t care. With his gun still pointed at Trent, Randy kissed Cheyenne as he had never kissed her before, with an urgency and a desperate need. Randy pulled away from Cheyenne and brought his hand to her chin. He inspected her face and the damage that Trent had done. He watched Cheyenne’s hands shake. His eyes scanned the slash on her neck where Gunnar’s knife had been. The bruises. The blood caked on her lips. The raw skin where the ropes had been. The lost, far away look in her eyes. The rage within Randy came to a boiling point.

  “He did this to you?!” Randy asked as calm as he could.

  With a nod, Cheyenne told him all he needed to know. Randy spun on his heel away from Cheyenne and faced Trent with a fire in his eyes.

  “You’ve crossed me for the last time, mother fucker!”

  Randy did what he had wanted to do for so long.

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  Squeezing the trigger thrice, he sent three bullets flying towards Trent. Swirling through the cool November air, sinking through the skin like butter. The bullets’ path went directly into the side of Trent’s head, killing him instantly. Trent fell to the ground, as the icy cool tone to his gaze faded. Cheyenne stared at Randy, hardly able to believe what she just saw. It was over. Trent was gone. Randy eyes were hooded, and he held her gaze, unable to take his eyes off her. With a gentle touch, Cheyenne reached for Randy’s hand and fell into his arms, both of them shell shocked and bewildered. Her hands shook as he held her. She was cracking under the pressure – the drugs in her system were just too damn strong. He watched as her eyes slowly rolled into the back of her head. Not wasting a moment, Randy grabbed Cheyenne by her waist and led her to Colt’s truck.

  “You need a doctor.”

  “Randy, listen to me…”

  “Not now, Chey… I’m here. I’m here for you. But we need to get you healthy.”

  “Randy…” Cheyenne said breathlessly as she went limp, fainting to the ground.

  Panicking, Randy picked Cheyenne up off the ground and laid her in the back of Colt’s truck. Within seconds he was speeding down the driveway heading towards St. Catherine’s Hospital.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Colt scanned the crowd for his half-brother but he was no where to be found. He walked through the crowd, dodging bullets, desperate to find the man who had started this mess in the first place. Colt walked around the perimeter of the house. He saw a body on the ground that looked like it could be him, but when he flipped it over he found Dave Grisham with a gruesome hole in his stomach from a shot gun blast. Colt dropped Dave to ground and continued his search. Shawn ran past him chasing Rock Bradshaw.

  “You seen Jimmy?!”

  “No! He’s probably hiding somewhere!”

  After coming up empty handed, Colt knew where he had to look. Knowing him for the snake that he was, Colt knew that Jimmy would not be amongst the dead. That would be too easy. He did not believe that he was hiding, though. Jimmy was creeping through the shadows, stalking the right moment to pounce on Averi. Colt looked up at the house, he could see that there was someone shooting from the attic.

  Averi.

  Her shot caught Heath McCellan in the top of the head. Heath didn’t know what hit him, and immediately fell on his face as the blood oozed from his head. Colt should’ve expected that she would not willingly sit down and let them do the fighting. The front door of the house was ajar. Colt bolted over the threshold, his heart in his throat. Taking the steps two by two, he climbed the rickety steps, throwing caution to the wind. When he reached the second floor landing, he listened carefully, trying to determine his brother’s whereabouts. The achy groan of a floor board sounded overhead at the third floor landing. The sound of Averi’s relentless shots out the window. A second gun, whose shots were more erratic, a nervous staccato of bullets raining down on the Devils.

  Colt kept his back to the wall as he maneuvered down the hall, very much aware of his surroundings and ready to kill anything that jumped out or got in his way. He brushed the sweat from his brow and tried to calm the hammering of his heart. It felt like it was about to jump out of his chest. Suddenly, he heard voices shouting from upstairs. Averi was shouting at someone. Shelly was screaming.

  “Son of a bitch!”

  ***

  A deranged smile grew across Jimmy’s face as he stepped from the cloak of shadow to the dimly lit landing that led to the attic. Calmly but quickly, he pulled a paperclip from his pocket, and inserted it into the padlock that secured the door to the attic. It almost seemed too easy. After a few quick movements of the paper clip the lock came undone. An indignant smirk crossed Jimmy’s face, but his eyes said something else entirely. Violent anger shone out from his beady eyes. He wasn’t the strange little boy Averi used to babysit. He was something much, much worse.

  ***

  “Don’t hesitate, just shoot! C’mon! We’re almost there!” Averi commanded, as Shelly fired down on the lawn.

  The crowd had thinned, but there were still at least a dozen living Devils stalking the grounds. Averi was so pre-occupied with protecting the ground, that she hadn’t noticed the shadow of the man standing over her.

  “Averi…” he said, in a voice that was saccharin sweet, a tone that Averi didn’t trust.

  Averi swung around with her rifle still in her grasp. She needed to reload. She wouldn’t have the opportunity though. Jimmy was encroaching, crossing the floor and narrowing the gap between them. Averi kept her face calm, but internally, her mind was racing and her heart could not be still. Jimmy had his handgun out, setting his sights directly at Averi. Shelly ran towards him, trying to push him out of the way, immobilize him, but as she advanced on him, he delivered a vicious slap across her face and she fell to the floor, unmoving.

  “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment,” Jimmy said, his eyes a sea of emotion and turmoil.

  “Put the gun down, Jimmy… Please!”

  “You don’t call the shots anymore.”

  “You are not your father! Put the gun down!”

  He moved closer, dragging the tip of his gun down the curve of her cheek, across her lips and down her neck. There was no question about it. Jimmy was just as dangerous as Black Horse. His mind had fallen, and no one, not even Averi, could talk him out of what he was about to do.

  “Put the gun down, Jimmy,” Averi pleaded. “Jimmy! Please, put the gun down!” Her tone was direct but she was not scared.

  Jimmy simply stared at her. His eyes flickered with insanity. He could focus on nothing but her. His need for her. His unrequited desire. But there was something else. Pure undulated rage. He would have her and discard her. Thrown aside like a piece of garbage. The passion was fueled by a madness, violence and an unresolved obsession that now teetered towards the cliff edge, skating the volatile edge between life and death.

  “You are not him. Put the gun down.”

  “You know, Averi… My mother always used to say, “Time heals all wounds.” You will forgive me for this. After a while, you won’t even remember my brother.”

  A silhouette d
arkened the door frame. As Colt and Averi’s eyes met, Averi said in an assured voice, “That’s where you’re wrong…”

  Jimmy felt the cool tip of Colt’s gun pressing into the back of his head.

  “Time heals all wounds, huh?” Colt said with a dark smile on his face.

  Colt tilted his head, asking Averi to leave the room. Per Colt’s instructions Averi ran from the attic. When they were alone, Colt took the safety off.

  “Heal this, mother fucker!”

  Colt fired his gun, shooting off a bullet into Jimmy Hearn’s diseased brain. He fell, his face hitting the windowsill before crashing to the floor. Colt stared at him for a while. What could have been a positive relationship with his half-brother turned murderous by Jimmy’s obsessive rage. He turned a simple childhood crush into an obsession that led to his own demise. Rage flooded Colt’s system. He closed his eyes, allowing for a moment to let the anger overcome him. He needed to make a point. Colt pulled the shades up and called out to the surviving Devils on the lawn.