Saving Della Ray

“I say we take them all out,” Tyler declared. “With their attack today, there’s no going back. It’s either we deal with them, or they deal with us.”

“But why did they fucking attack first?” Dobson lamented once again and the bar went silent. “I mean we were the ones they offended by snatching this bastard’s vest.” He kicked the unconscious man in the ribs. “It was our turn to give a response.”

“We were silent for too long,” Shotgun quietly explained. “They couldn’t take the wait any longer. It was probably driving them crazy imagining how we were going to react.”

“Shotgun’s right,” Tank agreed. “They probably had nightmares of us burning them all in their sleep. Better an enemy you can predict than one you can’t figure out. This was to drag us out in the open and force us to take action. The sissies probably didn’t even intend to hit any of us. That kid just fucking got in the way.”

“His name is Junho,” I growled.

“Whatever,” was his response.

I rose to my feet. I couldn’t stand a moment longer in the company of these fucking beasts. “I need rest,” I announced. “I’ll be at the house.”

Under normal circumstances, I would have been stopped, but given that I was amongst the victim count for the day, I was excused without repercussions.

I got on my bike and returned to the shit hole where I’d vowed to lay my head until I had my revenge.

Della Ray

I halted chopping the carrot in front of me, and glanced towards the living room sofa where Nichole was predicting all the doom and gloom from.

“It’s going to be a blood bath,” she said.

“What is going to be a bloodbath?” I asked.

She turned down the volume of the news program she had been watching and turned to me. “Haven’t you been listening?” she asked. “It’s these motorcycle clubs. The cops say it seems like a war is brewing between them.”

“Which clubs in particular?” I asked, my chest tightening uncomfortably.

“They haven’t said yet,” she responded, and sunk back into the couch to return her attention to the television.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I wanted so much for Bone to be safe.

“Death’s Hand and … Order of blood?” She read from the screen. “What kind of tacky names are these? Freaking low lives. I wish the cops would just boot them all from the county. They’re so much freaking trouble.” Flinging the remote aside, she rose and headed over to me.

I feigned nonchalance as she came over and lifted the lid off the pot of basmati rice that was boiling on the stove.

“Mmm … it’s almost ready,” she said. Pulling up her sleeves, she headed over to the sink of dishes awaiting her.

I heard the faucet come on and moments later was startled by a sudden clang. I turned to see Nichole watching me with narrowed eyes.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

I nodded. “Of course, why?”

“I was calling and you didn’t respond.”

I frowned at her, realizing why she had pounded the spoon against the sink.

Suddenly her face changed. “Does he belong to one of those clubs?”

I nodded.

“Oh, Della. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s not like I’m in a relationship with him.”

“Do you want me to go get Jess?”

“Umm.” I needed the time away to clear my mind. “No, I’ll do it.” I stepped away from the vegetables.

I moved quickly towards Jess’s room, but I stopped in front of the door to allow my mind a moment. I needed to clear my head. If what the news was saying about the clubs was true, then it meant that he was possibly in trouble. Big trouble.

He had already been shot once … perhaps this time around he would— I couldn’t bear to finish the thought and wished more than ever that I had gotten his phone number. But even if I had it, what would I say when I contacted him? Don’t get yourself killed?

I was nothing to him so why couldn’t I get him out of my mind? Why had his wellbeing now become my concern?

Della Ray

The next day at the bar was a slow night for us, so I pulled out my phone and began to Google motorcycle clubs.

As I was scrolling through, a piece of conversation trickled into my consciousness and my ears instantly perked up in attention. Two men were discussing the race and how it tied up to the damn MC brawl that everyone had predicted would leave a countless number of people dead. I listened for a moment, once again my temper rising at the senselessness of the entire situation. “Why don’t they just cancel the entire damn race?” I blurted out.

Both men went silent as they turned around to gaze at me, taken aback by my sudden outburst.

I just couldn’t hold back anymore. I just couldn’t understand it. “Why on earth would a bunch of grown ass men get so worked up over a freaking vest?”