Dead-Eye Angels MC (Book #1)

⍲Paint It Black⍲

Nate's POV

"Goddammit, I don't wanna die in this hell hole Nate, do something."

"Jesus woman, why didn't you thought of that when you stole the Golden Claw's drugs?"

A pair of headlights come to life in the darkness and keep getting closer. "Oh shit," I yell as I grab Tammy's hand and drag her to the side to a nearby pile of fishing crates.

A black 1970's Ford Torino stops after crashing through the gate, sending several Golden Claws chasing us flying to the other side of the camp. The driver makes a U-turn and rolls down the window. It's the girl from earlier. I guess she isn't ungrateful after all. "What are you waiting for? Get in!" I swing the passenger door open and push a protesting Tammy and myself in.

"Go, go, go," I motion to the girl as she steps on the gas. We speed out of the compound like a bat out of hell. Every now and then, I check behind us to see if anyone is following. After a few miles, the girl slows down.

"I was planning on getting the hell out of this dump asap be damned if you were stuck. But when I heard the gunshots, my consciousness got the best, and I stole this puppy." She slaps the steering wheel. "And came and save both your asses."

What the fuck. Nah, she's an ungrateful bitch. But I don't say anything. Mom's in the back, sleeping off whatever she took. The girl gives mom and me the once-over. "My name is Diwa. You related to the racist cunt." The girl points to my mom.

"She's my mother."

"Sorry."

"You don't have to apologize. Tammy's not my favorite person either."

"I feel sorry because you're related to her."

"Oh."

"If I knew that you would be bringing her along. I would have left you behind," she hisses.

I glare at Diwa; I don't know why I want to defend Tammy. I know how horrible she is. "She isn't that bad."

She glares back, "It was because of her our lives were even worse. Giving the men suggestions on how to talk and dominate us. Don't get me wrong, they were already abusive fucks, but your mother made shit worse, unbearable. But she gave birth to you, and you saved me. So, I better hold my tongue."

"Good," Even though I disagree with my mom's shit, I can't allow someone, a stranger, to disrespect her. Dad would crawl out of his grave and pistol-whip me for not defending her honor or lack thereof.

"Where can I drop you off?" Diwa asks.

But instead of answering, I grunt. The adrenaline is wearing off, and the pain from that pea-sized bullet sets in.

"Shit, you're hurt."

"Yeah, no shit Sherlock."

Diwa rolls her eyes, "I know a 24-hour pharmacy they'll have what you need. Do you have any money with you?"

I grunt from the pain of pulling out my wallet and hand her a hundred-dollar bill that should be enough to buy gauze and other shit to get this pesky little thing out. We arrive at the pharmacy, and Diwa goes inside and comes out 15 minutes later.

"What took you so long?" I grunt once again.

"I was hungry and bought some stuff I would need." I gnash my teeth. I'm at her mercy for now because God knows I can't count on my mother. I give Diwa directions to the motel I'm using as a hideout. I carry my mom into the room and drop her on the floor. Her body hitting the carpeted floor doesn't wake her up.