Brooks (Dirty Misfits MC Book 1)

Brooks: Chapter 9



I inched my way through the shadows, wanting to get closer as I swung my throwing knives around the tips of my fingers. I wished for a fucking gun, but that was what I got for not going home first thing. Granted, all of my guns were probably locked up in the clubhouse vault so no one could use them, but still.

You’ve got your knives. You’ll be fine.

So long as the three of them didn’t start shooting me at once.

I watched the interaction as I crouched behind a car at the corner. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I saw Raven’s face plain and day. And it was very clear to me that she wasn’t in cahoots with these assholes. She put on a brave face, sure, but I’d known her for years.

And her eyes told me she was scared out of her mind.

I slid four of the throwing knives into my left hand and poised my first one with my right. One false move, and that man would have a knife slicing through his fucking spine. Or maybe I’d take him out at the hip so he couldn’t run. Or maybe I’d get a clean shot of his knee.

The knee is always a good place to start.

I watched the man attempting to insert himself into her home and it made me rage. But she did a good job of stopping him. She kept herself planted in the doorway of her townhouse, preventing him from shoving past her. She had to be strong to take on a force like that because these men weren’t small human beings.

Then again, Gage always used to talk about how he taught Raven how to defend herself. And shoot guns. And fight people twice her size.

I just hoped she remembered all that he taught her.

I slid my fingers into my pocket and pulled out my cell phone. I figured it was probably dead since it had been in evidence for the past five fucking years, but maybe I’d get lucky. I tore the cell phone out of the bag and pressed the power button, praying with all my might that it would turn on.

And even though the phone was at fifteen percent, it fucking turned on.

“Yes,” I whispered.

I had all sorts of updates and notifications, and it took so long to filter through them that it ate up five percent of my battery. Nevertheless, I still had my old conversations from what seemed like ages ago, and Porter was right at the top.

“Please have the same number,” I murmured.

I shot him off a quick text, telling him to get to Raven’s as soon as possible, that it was an emergency. I didn’t want to say anything more, though, just in case someone was looming over his shoulder. I didn’t know who to trust right now, and until I got to the bottom of that night, the only person I trusted was Porter.

And after the message was sent, I turned my phone back off.

When I looked back up, though, I saw Raven trying to close the door in the man’s face. And when he slammed his hand against it, I knew I’d had enough. I aimed my first knife down my sights and gave my arm the clearance it needed, then I launched it across the expanse of the parking lot.

And I fucking missed.

“Are you kidding me?” I grumbled.

Everything happened in such a flash that I almost reacted on instinct. That man somehow got Raven back into her townhouse and she fell completely out of sight. I heard them scuffling inside and I wanted nothing more than to run in there and beat that man to death with my bare hands. But his crazy goons on their bikes aimed their guns in my general direction and started shooting.

Though, they didn’t seem to have the faintest clue as to where I was perched.

During the first pause in the gunfire when the men reloaded, I peeked above the hood of the car I crouched behind. I sent a knife flying in the air and the pointed end jammed itself right into one of the men’s left arm. He groaned in pain as his magazine tumbled out of his hand and I ducked back down before the other guy could spot me.

Then, the gunfire started back up again.

Raven grunted and yelped in the townhouse. My heart clenched in my chest as the sound of a bike engine revved way off in the distance. I waited until the gunfire coming my way ceased once more, then I stood up from behind the car and threw two of the knives I still had at the man reloading his gun again.

And I didn’t see any other magazines on his hips.

“Gotcha,” I growled.

I watched as the first knife pierced the air, slicing it like warmed butter. The first knife grazed his neck right by his jugular, and blood spilled down his neck. The other knife, though, jammed itself directly into his bicep. Preventing his dominant arm from moving around and doing anything.

Then, the other guy on the ground reached for a gun.

I aimed my last knife down my sight and waited for the right opportunity. I lined up my shot, watching as the man scrambled for his gun. I counted to three inside of my head before drawing in a deep breath. And when all the sounds around me faded into the background, I launched the knife through the air.

And watched it sink straight into the man’s shoulder.

“Fuck!” he cried out.

“You stupid motherfucker!” the other one shrieked.

I dipped back down behind the car as the sound of a bike engine roared heavily from the main road. I watched from beneath the car as the man from Raven’s townhouse raced out, his eyes widening as he took stock of the two goons that were supposed to be keeping watch. The motorcycle I heard off in the distance grew steadily closer. The revving of the engine told me help was on the way. And while I knew the police were going to be called by the neighbors sooner rather than later, I wanted to check and make sure Raven was okay before I got the hell out of dodge.

And I smiled wickedly as those three asshats leapt onto their bikes and sped off.

Two of the men pulled my knives from their bodies and tossed them to the ground. So, I scrambled up from the pavement and collected them. The sound of the motorcycle engine that I thought was Porter brushed by the townhouse complex, and I wiped the blood on the knives off onto my jeans just in case those pussies turned back around. I stood in the middle of the parking lot and waited for a few seconds, listening as their three bikes faded away while they raced down the main road.

Then, I turned toward Raven’s front door that was now closed.

I saw people poking their eyes and noses out around their curtains and it sent a shiver down my spine. If someone called the police and pegged me at this crime scene, I’d go straight back to prison without any hope of parole. So, I booked it toward Raven’s place. I leapt onto the sidewalk and took another gigantic leap onto the porch. And after knocking on her front door, I drew in a deep breath.

“Raven?” I asked. “It’s me; Brooks. Are you all right?”

A shadow moved away from the frosted window and I braced myself. Was she going to open the door? Would she leave me standing out here until the police came?

Is she going to call the police herself?

I knocked again on the door, but this time I used the knock she was familiar with. Two big knocks with my fist before a slew of fluttering knocks with nothing but my knuckles. I sighed as I wore my arm out knocking on that damned door. I needed to get somewhere safe. I needed to get out from beneath prying eyes that could place me at this particular scene.

Then, the doorknob finally turned.

But the door still didn’t open.

“Raven, I swear it’s me. Can you please just open up so I know you’re all right?”

The door cracked open, but I didn’t see her beyond it. Almost as if she were standing behind the door, but making way for my voice.

Better than nothing. “Did he hurt you?”

Her voice finally sounded, and it warmed my soul. “No.”

“Are you hurt? Or bleeding?”

She cleared her throat. “No.”

“Did he—I mean did he try to…”

She opened the door a bit more. “He didn’t have me pinned down for long before I flipped him over. Knocked the wind right out of him.”

I grinned. “‘Atta, girl.”

She sniffled. “What are you doing here, Michael?”

No one ever called me by my first name. No one ever dared to address me as such. But for some reason, hearing my name on Raven’s lips had always been a treat. Like a fine dessert after a rich meal.

I let my eyes close as I devoured the moment before I spoke. “I’m checking up on you, and I’m glad I did. Any idea why those idiots were here?”

And when she sniffled again, I realized what happened. She wasn’t physically hurt; she was emotionally hurt.

So, I pressed my hand against the door and opened it the rest of the way.


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