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Gesturing for me to join her group, Natasha tones down her lovestruck gaze, but it never truly goes away. I spend the next hour at her side. The people we talk to are just noise. I only see Natasha and feel her hand in mine.
All of my worriers about our future feel ridiculous now. Aunt Fred was right—as usual—and Natasha is just putting on a show for her family’s allies. In the same way I’ll stand behind my club’s leadership and look like a barely-restrained monster, Natasha needs to play the ice-princess role.
Underneath our performances, though, we’re just Bear and Natasha.
NATASHA
Banta City seems bigger tonight as I leave the engagement party. The city’s lights sparkle in the starless night. Yesterday’s heavy storms left the city smelling clean and dewy.
I stare across Petra and watch the bikers idle at a light. More than once, Bear rolls past our SUV and up to his club brothers. He keeps an eye on them as we move from the hotel on our way back to the mansion.
Petra wraps her hand around mine and shares my grin. Though she’s excited about the wedding, I sense her happiness right now is related to her daughters’ impending move to Banta City. Earlier today, she spoke to Shari and Vica, who are eager to see her again. In a month, everything will be different for my sister and me.
The convoy idles next to the Jefferson River. My SUV is the fifth out of seven vehicles. My parents are located in the vehicle in front of us. Security and support staff are behind us.
Getting stuck in Banta City traffic is how I’ve spent a decent chunk of my life. I settle in my seat as vehicles honk and motorcycles rev.
I swipe through pictures on my phone and imagine Bear in Key West. Our honeymoon is planned for six months from now. We’ll only be gone for a few days to keep the kids’ stress levels low.
Bear rarely leaves Banta City. This place and the club are all he knows. A part of him doesn’t want to try anything new. For me, he’ll spend a few days in Key West.
As the convoy continues to idle near the bridge, I suffer a growing awareness of trouble brewing outside. First, a motorcycle races past our SUV. I look forward between the seats to see what’s holding up the convoy, but the other large black vehicles block my view. Glancing out my window, I find the river. Petra’s side faces a side street.
Another motorcycle flies past our SUV. Car tires screech. The gunman in our SUV exits with his rifle. I shove my phone in my bag as dread builds hot and toxic in my chest.
Sensing danger, I wonder about those police who tried to arrest me at my bachelorette party. Are they holding us up now?
As the third motorcycle races past our SUV, the driver says in Czech, “Get down on the floor.”
I don’t ask questions. As children, my father trained us to obey security. That’s why despite wearing heavy gowns, Petra and I unsnap our seat belts and drop to the floor. The driver speaks to someone on his radio.
The gunshots don’t sound real at first. They’re coming from the front of the convoy.
“Natasha,” Petra whimpers.
Just then, the night explodes with noise. Holding Petra’s hand, I’m too scared to cry. I think of Bear out there with the other bikers. My family is in the crosshairs. This isn’t a simple ticket from the cops. Someone is trying to kill my father. Everyone else will become collateral damage.
The chaos grows. I hear more gunshots. A few bullets collide with this SUV’s reenforced shell. I grip my sister’s hand and pretend Bear is safe at home with his cats. I don’t dare picture him facing the madness outside.
“Fuck,” the driver says, sounding panicked. “Get out of the SUV.”
The words have barely left his lips when something slams into our vehicle. The SUV’s airbags deploy. The side bags slam Petra and me together. Our heads collide. As darkness grips me, I feel the world tip over and come slamming back down.
BEAR
For the ride to Thibeaux Mansion, I keep my crew on the move. They change positions a lot, riding up the road occasionally to check things out before idling until we catch up. I have a few younger guys—barely out of their prospect phase—riding up and down the parallel streets.
For years, no one’s taken a shot at the head of the Kovak Syndicate. Many people think Viktor’s unkillable. He’s survived too many assassination attempts—including suffering a head wound—not to have gained a mythical reputation in the criminal world.
However, having Viktor and his sons together in the city is a rarity. If someone wanted to wipe out the Kovak Syndicate, tonight would be the time. That’s why, even if Natasha wasn’t in one of the SUVs, I’d be on high alert.
The convoy is led by an SUV filled with security. Roman and more security are located in the second vehicle. The third SUV holds Maks and Leon. Fourth up is Viktor and Katja. Fifth is Natasha and Petra. The final SUVs are support staff and additional security.
I ride past the vehicles a dozen times as we move north from downtown. I size up the traffic patterns for trouble. I scan rooflines for snipers.
Up ahead, as we near the Jefferson River Bridge, a moving truck stalls out in the intersection just as the convoy is about to get the green light. My gut warns something’s about to go down. Idling at the back of the convoy, I alert Zoot to the situation.
With the convoy unable to move, the third, fourth, and fifth SUVs are stuck in the intersection of Jefferson River Boulevard and Lafayette Street. Lights change, and horns honk. A growing number of vehicles are trapped on Lafayette Street and behind the convoy on Jefferson River Boulevard. The noise bounces off the high-rise condos, creating an echo and making the scene increasingly chaotic.
