I give her a tight hug and then get back on my bike and tear down the road. My mind races faster than my wheels, fearful and violet thoughts speed through my head, and I force myself to focus.
He can’t have too much of a head start. And he can’t take Violet anywhere that Dread would find out, because, as much as that old man is a bastard, he seems like the type to keep his word.
Think, damn it.
My eyes open wide.
There’s one place in this town that means the world to Violet. And it’s a place where Dread and the rest of the Death’s Disciples have sworn to stay away from.
Her bar.
My tires scream as I gun my bike and speed toward the Timberline Tavern, pushing the engine so hard it howls like an animal in its death throes.
A few blocks away, I stop my bike and hop off. The only advantage I have over Switchblade is surprise, and I need to go the rest of the distance on foot or else I’ll tip him off and risk him killing Violet.
I run those last couple blocks. In the parking lot, I spot his bike, parked right by the front door and steam rising from the still-warm engine.
Maybe I’m not too late.
Through a window, I peer inside, and see him tying a struggling Violet to a chair. At his feet, there’s a can of gasoline. When Violet struggles too much, he hits her hard with the back of his hand and she slumps over in her chair, unconscious. It takes everything I have not to charge inside and go after him.
But I have to play this smart. One wrong move and she’ll be dead.
Think, Crash. Think.
Then it hits me. For all the time Switchblade has probably spent in this bar, he still doesn’t know it as well as I do. For hours upon hours, I worked side by side with Violet, and came to learn every nook and cranny in this place.
There’s a back entrance. Through the kitchen.
I creep around to the backside of the tavern and slip in through the back door. From a hiding spot in the kitchen, I can hear him gloating over her.
“Maybe I can’t touch your cunt friend. Maybe it would be too fucking obvious even for that fucking moron, Dread, to ignore. But, since I can’t get close to that bitch Kendra and her fucking cunt daughter, Josie, I can still make them suffer. Through you.”
“Why the fuck are you doing this?” Violet says, begging. Her voice is so weak, so pained, just thinking about the agony that Switchblade has put her through makes my blood boil.
“Because you deserve it. You had to put your fucking nose where it didn’t belong. You and that fucking out-of-town piece of shit. If you’d just been a good little cunt and kept to yourself, none of this shit would’ve happened. Think about that while I’m cutting you up. Think about that when I set your whole fucking bar on fire. Maybe it’ll bring you some comfort as I turn everything you care about to ash, you stupid cunt-faced bitch.”
I creep froward, gun raised, inch by inch, until I’m at the door leading from the kitchen room to the main bar area. Once I touch this door, I will have to move fast; I’ll have a second at most to get a shot off before Switchblade can react.
Gun in one hand, with my other on the door, I take a deep breath. My heart is racing in my chest, and I fight to get my emotions under control.
One shot. Make it count.
Then Violet screams. A blood-curdling, heart-wrenching scream. And, beneath it all, I hear Switchblade’s laugh.
And I fucking lose it.
“Don’t you fucking touch her,” I scream as I throw open the door and fire.
The split-second of surprised silence as Switchblade whirls to face me is cut short by the popping crack of my pistol. The shot catches him, he spins, thrown by the force of the bullet, and he hits the ground at Violet’s feet.
I don’t stop. I charge forward, not content to trust that single shot, and burning with the desire to wrest the last bit of life from him with my hands around his throat.
I get to him just as he gets to his knees. Lashing out with my foot, I catch him square in the face, sending him sprawling on to his back. Blood gushes from his shoulder where I shot him, and he hits the ground, hard, his limbs jerking for a momentary flash of unconsciousness, until I leap on him and throttle him.
Blow after blow I rain down on his face, turning it into a mishmash of scarlet blood and the jarring white of exposed bone. I raise my fist high, ready to land the blow that will end this son of a bitch’s life for good.
“Crash, watch out,” Violet screams.
But it’s too late.
Steel slices into my side, biting deep, sending hot, sticky blood flowing from me thick and fast, running in streams down my side.
“I’m going to gut you while she watches,” Switchblade growls through his torn lips.
Then, with a grunt, he pushes me off him, knife still stuck in my gut.
Smiling, blood dripping from his busted face, he pulls a lighter out from his pocket and kicks over the can of gas.
“Or maybe I’ll just leave you both here to fucking roast. Sure would raise a lot fewer questions that way; the biker who came back to finish off the bitch who chased him away. And it sure would be fun to see you two motherfuckers burn alive,” he turns and kneels down in front of Violet, who is struggling against her ropes. “What do you think about that, cunt? You want to fry
