A Happy Coincidence

Chapter 38

The docks were void of any motorcycles as she and Viktor arrived. Rory felt her panic growing, uncertainty now flooding her system as she finally slowed her mind down enough to think about what she was doing. This man was powerful, his father even more so, and here she was holding a gun to his head.

"Now what?" He asked, reading her expression. "Where's your backup?"

"Charming is further from the docks than where we were." She said slowly. "I'm sure they're on their way." Even her word choice screamed fear.

"And if they're not?"

"They are."

"I don't think they give a shit about you." He sneered. "I think they want their man back and they'll let you deal with the fallout from this bad decision."

It was a thought, fleeting but still it had entered her mind. "Shut up."

"You're not going to shoot me." The cracks in her mask of confidence were glaring now. "If you do you know you're not making it much longer." Viktor turned in the driver's seat, relaxed, and smiled at her. "It's not attractive," he gestured her with disgust on his face, "The weakness."

"Get out." She snapped. "Get out of the car and sit cross legged by the front tire."

"Am I under arrest?" He asked with an obnoxious laugh.

Rory climbed out slowly, never turning her back, and walked around to his side of the car. There he sat, legs crossed as she instructed, with a smug grin. "Why did you take him?"

"He killed a few of my guys, MY guys, not my old man's but really it's business, it's always business."

When Rory caught the first rumble, she looked up eagerly for Tig and the others. It was dark but the faint glow from their lights filled her with relief and happiness. She was far too easily comforted by their arrival, just as she had been when Eric kidnapped her months before. Viktor grabbed her ankles and yanked her feet out from under her, Rory landed hard with a thud and a pained groan. He jumped to his feet and as he walked passed her, reached out to grab her gun that had fallen few feet away. Rory pulled her knife from her bra as he stepped over her and jabbed it into his calf.

"Bitch." He hollered, dropping to his knee as she pulled it out only to sink it in again, deeper, and twisted the blade. Viktor grabbed the gun, winging it around wildly, as he and Rory struggled for the upper hand.

"Get her off him." Clay said coldly as he and Tig came around the side of the BMW. Kozik and Half-Sack dropped down and pulled Rory away.

"Guess she's stronger than she looks." Tig replied, pulling a fearful Viktor up to his feet. "Now, where's our guy?"

"You just going to cowboy in there?"

In reply, Tig jammed the heel of his boot into the knife wound with a sickening smile. "Do I have to ask you again?"

"479." He stammered, pointing down the row of steel doors.

"How many guys?" Tig asked but Viktor was tightlipped now, he'd already betrayed his crew and embarrassed himself and his father. "Okay, we'll just take you in with us then, how's that?"

Jax led the group, Tig right behind him with a gagged Putlova in his grip. Rory was told to stay behind but she ended up rounding out the pack refusing to be shoved aside. With a few winks and nods, Jax sent Opie and Kozik to the side alley, a slim exit was hidden on the other side of a dumpster.

"On three," Clay mouthed to Jax, every man had his pistol trained on the door.

He whispered the count down, on three Jax shot through the lock, and kicked the door open, the club backing him up as they raced into the dimly lit room. It smelled of rust and mold, the former most likely blood, and almost made Rory gag. Her heart stopped seeing Happy in the far corner of the room, head slumped over, bloody and seeming to be unconscious. The three Russians holding him captive first moved for their guns, the Sons already aimed weapons meant nothing, but only stopped when they saw Tig holding his hunting knife to Putlova's neck.

"Guns down." Clay ordered. "Juice why don't you reach out and let Daddy know what his son has been up to in his free time. Chibs," he gestured to Happy. "Check him out."

"Come on girl." He mumbled grabbing Rory's wrist and taking her with him across to the corner. Clay was already interrogating the Russians, outnumbered and outgunned, with a smug comical air about him.

"Hap." On her knees Rory lifted his head gently as Chibs worked on the bindings. "Happy, baby." She sniffled and gave him a light slap but he still didn't move.

"He's alive." Chibs said. "Just give him a minute."

"Happy?" She whispered again, pulling open his eyelid as an overly curious child would. "Wakey, wakey, my guy. Come on." Refusing to cry, Rory swallowed down the sob treatening to escape her lips.

His eyes fluttered and Happy pulled away from her as she continued to poke at his eyes. He grunted and Rory beamed. "Brother," Chibs came around from behind him. "We gotta get you out of here."

When he stood, Rory and the others could see the extent of his injuries. His face was a bruised and swollen, bloody mess, his fingers on his left hand had been broken, his arms and chest sliced up, not dangerous deep but enough to cause pain and weakness from lack of blood. Chibs and Rory helped him out but stopped as they passed Clay.

"He needs a hospital, those fingers need proper setting and casting or he won't be riding."

Clay scowled and nodded. "You," he pointed to Rory. "Some guys tried to attack you, he took the beating instead but you didn't see anything. Got it?"

"Got it." She said, struggling to manage the weight on her as they headed out.