Holiday Havoc (Reckless Bastards MC 7)

Golden Boy snatched one of the red cans from Lasso with a glare. “Let’s get this shit over with, man.” Without another word, Lasso and Golden Boy got to work killing the fire on all sides of the car. “Surprised they didn’t set the fucking gas tank on fire.”

“Is that a foot?” Lasso pointed to the backseat, eyes wide enough to tell me that it wasn’t really a question.

“Fuck!” Savior kicked the back tire in anger. “It’s a foot, a goddamn leg and a whole fucking body.” His gaze slid to me, anger and questions burning there. He wanted to know what they all wanted to know.

What the fuck we were gonna do about this. “Any flames left?”

“Nah, it’s out,” Golden Boy assured me as he stepped back to make room so I could step closer.

A red and brown plaid blanket was draped over the body, covering everything but a woman’s leg with a gold charm anklet melted onto her skin. She was white underneath the soot and the only other thing visible was a hand, shriveled and burnt. The door handle was too fucking hot to touch but I was too close now and I had a bad fucking feeling as I reached into the busted out window and pinched one end of the blanket and yanked it back. “Fuck!”

The woman was naked, and h

er body was well-preserved which told me the bastard who did this wanted us to recognize her. A few of the Reckless Bitches had shown up for Thanksgiving dinner so she might have been one of them but I didn’t think so. The ankle that was protected from the fire showed signs of restraint with purple bruising all around it. Her wrists received the same treatment. “Whoever she was, they tortured her,” Jag added, always the calm fucking voice of reason.

“Who is it?” Gunnar’s gruff question echoed the sentiments of everyone around the still smoking vehicle.

I stepped closer as dread weaved its way around my body, squeezing so goddamn tight I was pretty sure I stopped breathing for nearly a minute, brushing brown hair, singed at the edges, away from the woman’s face but even before I got there, I saw a very familiar tattoo. Tears burned my eyes and bile rose in my throat as I realized who it was.

“Fuck! Goddammit! It’s Kat.” We all knew that fucking tattoo, the pink heart with a peace sign inside of it, right there on her shoulder. Years ago when she’d been just a fast twenty year old trying to become an old lady, she used to prance around in next to nothing, that fucking tattoo on display.

“How do you know?” Savior moved in beside me and I grabbed his shoulder, knowing he would take her death—no her murder—the hardest. He’d always had a soft spot for Katrina, insisting he was no damn good for her but protecting her life all these years.

“That fucking tattoo right there,” I told him and pointed at it.

“I will kill that little motherfucker with my bare hands!” Savior was so pissed off he radiated with it. The vein in his forehead stuck out dangerously and I knew it would be hard to keep him cool.

“Savior, go check on the women.” He stayed where he was, staring at the lifeless body of Katrina. “Go. Now.”

Max tugged him away from the car and shoved him inside the clubhouse, following just to be sure. The rest of the group remained in silent shock that one of our own had taken a hit.

“She was just at my house,” Golden Boy said numbly. “Teddy will be devastated.”

They would all be devastated. The wives and girlfriends didn’t see Kat as a threat, they saw her as one of them. Family. I leaned back inside the car and brushed her hair away until I could see her face.

“Should we call the law?” Lex asked.

I shook my head. “Hell no. We can’t. Kat would understand. Fuck!” It wasn’t pretty. “Fuck!”

“What is it, Prez?” Stitch’s voice was shaky. Worried and we all knew why. He felt responsible and he was worried that Marisol might meet the same fate if he let her out of his sight for one second.

“The bastard slit her throat from one end to the next.” She was damn near decapitated. “Black eye. Bruises all over.” Kat’s wasn’t the first body I’d seen or hell, it wasn’t the first for any of us, but this one was deeply personal. As personal as any of the men and women we’d all lost on the battlefield. I kicked the side of the car as hard as I could. “Goddamn this fucking cartel!”

“I’m with Savior,” Stitch growled. “We have to get this little motherfucker. We have to make them all pay for Kat.”

“Especially that fat fuck Guapo,” Gunnar said, his voice low and menacing. “I can’t wait to fuck that asshole up!” He punched his palm a few times and we all knew what he had planned for Carlito’s second in command.

I took a step back, away from the car. And then another step and another one until I could no longer smell the stench of Katrina’s burning flesh. When I could finally take a breath without the smell of fire or smoke or seared skin, I sucked it in like it was fresh mountain air. Then I turned to face my men, feeling strong yet defeated, resolute. Resolved. “We can’t just keep reacting to shit.”

“We’re not gonna respond?” Stitch was incredulous which was understandable, but respectful as always.

“Fuck yeah we are, but what we won’t do is react. We need to come up with a solid plan so that we can go after this motherfucker and take him out for good. We must be smart and force him to react to us.” What that plan was? I had no fucking clue, but I would.

Soon.

Jag nodded and clapped me on the back. “This is fucked up, man. Let’s get everybody back inside and I’ll grab a few prospects and clean this mess up. Kat was part of us and we gotta do this right.”

I hated to leave Katrina out there, but Jag was right. It was time to set this shit aside and be thankful as fuck that most of us were still around to enjoy another holiday. I had no idea how we were going to handle this, but I knew flying off the handle was just what Carlito wanted. No, I needed to be smart and make sure something like this never happened to my family again.