When They Broke My Brother, I Took Charge

Kane shook the ash from his cigarette and laughed. “Picked up hillbilly thinks she can handle a steel rod?” He stepped on my brother’s toolbox, crushing scattered bolts under his boots. He snapped his fingers. A trainee swung a chain at me from the left. The chain whipped past my shoulder with a hiss of air. I stepped in, the chain grazing my back, missed, and I grabbed his wrist, twisting it outward. Crack. The bones in his wrist popped in my palm. The tire iron swept across his knees; he went down, and I slammed the butt end into the back of his neck. He collapsed, unmoving. Only the hum of the air compressor filled the garage. Another grabbed my waist from behind. I lifted my heel into his instep, and in the half-second he loosened his grip, I drove my elbow into his throat. He dropped to his knees, gagging. “Don’t… come near me!” Lyra peeked from behind the tall tool cabinet. “Kane is the Rattlesnake MC president’s only son!” “Uncle Rex’s men are all over the county! You touch a finger of his, and the Walker family will pay with you!” I paused and looked at her. “Lyra.” “Yeah?” “You said you took the deed to save this family?” Her eyes flickered. “Little sister, I know this sounds bad. But Rattlesnake MC has been holding up our parts line for six months. The garage loan’s due next month. If I marry into their crew, they’ll inject $200,000 and keep our line running. Dad and Mom are getting old, Luke can’t argue with them… I had no choice.” I nodded. “So… you’re a good person.” “Little sister, as long as you understand—” “A good person.” I grabbed the transfer deed from the coffee table and walked over to her. “You signed this for my dad?” She opened her mouth but didn’t answer. I slapped the deed onto her chest, pulled two zip ties, and secured her wrists to the lift post. “Hang here. Wait your turn.” Mom propped herself against the hood, trembling. “June…” “Mom, I said close your eyes.” I didn’t look back. “The cuts on your face? I’ll treat them later—no scars.” Kane surged from behind, swinging a torque wrench from the workbench. I tilted my head. The wrench grazed my ear and smashed the glass door. I spun. He froze mid-swing. I looked down at the still-smoking cigarette at his feet. “What did you say? Torch everything?” He stepped back. I stomped on his hand, crushing it into the concrete. Screaming, I grabbed his leather vest by the collar, dragged him forward. I used a utility knife to slice open the stitching on his left chest. Shhhhk. The Rattlesnake patch came off in one piece. I tossed it to the floor. “This leather doesn’t deserve the patch.” Removing a patch is the ultimate road humiliation—worse than breaking his leg. Anyone stripped of their patch can never hold their head high on any highway again. Lyra gasped from the other post, like her throat had been choked. Kane’s eyes reddened. Blood foamed at his mouth as he pressed his phone: “Dad! Bring everyone! Bring the whole crew—” Five minutes later, engines roared from all sides, shaking the garage door. The iron gate was cut open with hydraulic shears. Night air blew in, carrying gasoline and leather. Rex walked in, followed by forty patched members, crowbars clutched in their hands. He bent down, picked up the torn patch from the ground. Looked up. “Bury the Walkers in the foundation of the new garage. Burn it down. Make it look like electrical failure.”