Killer (The Satan Sniper's Motorcycle Club book 5)

Chapter 10 (Killer)

“That is cheating,” Whisp declares, glaring at the Lethal Assassin. Mercy grins, picking up the pile of

cash she just won. Of course, she cheated, it’s Mercy. Copyright by Nôv/elDrama.Org.

The room still smells of the grey and white paint we used to redo the walls for the 4th time after the

place was almost shot to smithereens by Lucca Sanati’s men in a war we started 5-years-ago when we

protected his wife from the sick fuck.

A war that was still going strong since he kidnapped my fucking sister and got his men to rape her

while they recorded the entire fucking thing.

He was the reason my sister who was once innocent now chose a fucking gun over flashy shoes. He

took that shit from her, and no amount of bloodshed will get that back. It toughened her up, but I never

wanted that for my sweet Ky.

Lucca Sanati was a psycho who called himself the King of the outfit. Personally, I considered him a

wussy of pussies. I haven't got the chance to inform the asshole of this because I was still yet to meet

him.

I even went hunting him down to do just that, but he hasn't played his part with getting caught. Lucky

for him I was a patient man, and I had a fuck load of time.

My sister was a survivor and knew I would get her the revenge she wanted. She knew it because she

was now with me. My Club had become her club, and she earned her stripes just like the rest of us,

proudly.

The clubhouse was doing alright, but it cost a lot of dough to be fine with my sister doing the

decorating. A lot of that dough came from my pocket when she decided she couldn’t live with the

budget the Club gave her.

Kylie wasn't rolling in her daddy’s Benjamins since she whacked my half-brother, Vincent, saving me

the trouble of doing it. She got cut off from her mother and the government froze all her other accounts.

After a $6 million bail and the other couple of mill spent in lawyer bills, they granted Kylie her freedom

only because of Storm, the Kanla Chapter’s Vice President who was fucking my sister behind my back.

We had words, Vice President, to Vice President. They weren’t words spoken from my mouth, but my

knuckles had a fuck lot to say about that.

Worked out for her though, because now she was one of us and I made her my responsibility,

distinguishing most of the claim Storm wanted over her. He wanted my sweet Ky since he fuckin’ saw

her walk her ass to the Jet. She was just 18 then.

Now, her freedom was his doing, and her ass was stuck to him for another 2 years. But once that clock

ran its course, I was taking my sister with me and getting our asses on the road. I was the National

Vice President of The Satan Sniper’s Motorcycle Club and I agreed to them giving me the position

because the thought of getting stuck in one place too long sent my body into a fever.

Add in the thought of Storm fucking my sister made me see death. I had no emotion like other brothers,

but I seemed to enjoy spoiling for a fight. My logic was fucked up and if I could make sense of any

situation where it could end up with someone’s face and my fist getting acquainted, then count me in.

Yeah, I wasn’t a fucking nice person, but I got shit sorted and my sister knew that my reasoning for not

taking out Storm for touching what he shouldn’t was fuck all to do with him touching what he shouldn’t

and everything to do with his father, my President, Ribs.

It was my 2nd day back in Kanla and 1st time in the pool room since it got renovated. I left for a month

this time, Kylie who we now called Frost, joining me for the first 4 days when I had to go check out the

shit happening in our Denver Chapter. She came back early with Venus, as was one stipulation of her

freedom. She couldn’t leave Kanla for more than a week, and only if it was with another member.

When she got back, Frost called me to say she wanted to redo the game room. I had to admit; the

place looked good.

Brown wooden benches added as a fixture to the wall was a recent addition I approved of. My ass

nicely seated on it, enjoying my beer as I watch Mercy bend her round ass encased in a nice pair of

light denim pants.

It was her 2nd day back too, as was After and Raven, all of us from National. We spent days chilling as

we waited for the others to arrive.

Beggar and Jade were still gone on club business for River. Snake, our National treasury still on his

way from Liston Hills after some fucking shit was going down with the DELROY’S back in my

hometown, Liston hill.

Sabastian Delroy was paying the Club a ton of cash that even made my eyebrows rise to find someone

for him. Thing is, he wanted Snake, because Snake was from Liston Hills, just like me, and if he asked

me, I would have told him to fuck himself as I always did.

River called us this side after an intense meeting with another biker club wanting shelter in Kanla. It

was the reason of calling in National and the reason for us stopping by when we were hunting down

Lucca Sanati and dealing with other club shit. 5 fucking years, and the man still eluded us. How the

fuck he got that right was something I wanted to know.

I knew before we arrived that we were going to be here for a few weeks at least, before we got back on

the road. Mercy was happy to be back, going by her sexy grin as she slides my way. But After, who

was scowling, as her fingers danced with the sharp blade in between them, wasn’t too pleased to be

stuck.

I contemplated talking to her, but I decided the best thing to do for now was nothing. Precisely what I

have done. I was fucking brilliant at following my own advice and even better at forcing others to follow

it too. There was a peg stuck up After’s ass. I had my suspicions, but I never said my part until I knew

all the details. Something I learned from my father.

“Don't be so serious, it's just a game,” Spade says, all smiles, as he walks past the two women sitting

on the pool table chuckling to himself.

“Says you who never loses,” Whisp gripes as Mercy and Spade both howl with laughter.

He takes a seat next to me on the wall fitted bench as Mercy gets up and joins us, bringing me a cold

beer.

“Your brother called in a favor a few minutes ago, Prez is still on the phone with him, sounds like a

family problem.”

“He shouldn't waste his breath, I don’t give favors to pissies.” The Stone family was dead to me, since

they decided Kylie was dead to them. If there was one thing I lived by, it was loyalty.

The barriers go off and the clubhouse we call our home erupts into chaos. The entire house goes from

mellow to awareness in seconds.

I run to the door as Mercy, Spade and the others go for the ammunition.

We always have our guard up since Lucca Sanati, the Outfits crime boss, declared war on our

Motorcycle Club. Waiting for him to make a mistake has been our only call of action. The rain pours in

vicious doses as we rush out into the night.

Frost pushes from behind me, her distinctive scent unmistakable. We are the first two to head outside,

meeting Texas and Raven by the open gate, since they were on guard duty tonight.

I assess the situation; the Honda smashed into our gate, and the airbag holding whoever it is a

mystery. The windshield is fucked, the rain making this a lot messier. The car’s one light is shining into

the yard, preventing me from seeing what or who it is. Raven is the first to rush to the car.

“Help me, she's pregnant,” The words spill from Raven’s lips and we all rush into action. Texas

punctures the airbag and checks the lady as I pull out my phone, dialing the hospital.

“Her pulse is weak, we can't move her. If her spine is fucked from the impact, the baby will die,” Texas

says as others from the house gather around, ready to help.

I move next to him as Frost and After scream for Venus.

The lady’s blonde hair is covering her face, she's unconscious. I make no attempt to do anything

besides stand and watch her after ending the call to the local hospital.

My patience is indescribable. It is something I am good at doing. I am not curious about the lady as the

other bikers who stand around us are.

Another person would react, panics, like Frost and Venus. But I don't have that emotion. I have no

emotion of sympathy, empathy, or the other stuff people are supposed to feel when looking at an

unconscious pregnant woman. I once thought I did, when Beggar came into our lives. I got hopeful that

I could feel something but when it came down to it; I felt nothing besides knowing to protect her.

Chad comes rushing to the crowd of bikers, “Venus is at the club tonight. She's not picking up her

phone, River is calling Hannah.”

The pregnant lady moves, a simple stir, “Stay still sweetheart,” Texas says in his thick accent.

“My baby,” She murmurs as Frost pushes me to the side in a rush and lifts the lady’s hair off her

face.