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Charlie was seeing red. Not only was she so outraged by Fury's dismissive attitude towards Frank, but now she was ready to destroy all who got in her way of saving Frank's life. He saved her life once, now it was her time to save him.

She had told herself long ago, after she had killed Alek Mikhailov, she had promised herself never to pick up a gun again but now, she had a reason to do it and she didn't hesitate. She was ready to do it all over again if it meant saving Frank's life.

Charlie drove like hell and skidded to a stop right in front of the Angels' headquarters, getting out of the car instantly and loading her assault rifle, watching as the rest of the club arrived soon after, loading their own guns and getting ready to enter the hellhole. 

"We're with you, Charlie," Drake said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "We're gonna get him."

However, their attention immediately snapped towards the clubhouse as multiple gunfire went off inside and immediately stopped. 

"Frank," Charlie said, her eyes wide. "Frank!" She rushed towards the clubhouse, the rest of the men running behind her.

Charlie unleashed bullets the minute she entered the house, killing three of the Angels and allowing the members to flood in from behind her, firing their weapons and killing more Angels. Charlie rushed towards one of the Angel's that came down the stairs and kicked him square in the crotch and pointed her gun at him, rage in her eyes. 

"Where is he?" she demanded.

The man groaned from beneath her, looking up at her with hate in his eyes. "Fuck you, bitch!"

Charlie kicked him square in the jaw and pointed her gun at him again, cocking the weapon and jabbing it into the side of his head. "Where. Is. He?"

"He's dead, you hear me?!" he screamed. "El Diablo is dead! Sure couldn't stand eight gunshot wounds!"

Charlie shot him straight in the head, stopping him before he could laugh. "Drake, Cobra, and Eagle come with me," she said, trying to stop herself from crying. "The rest of you clear out this fucking place."

The members were shocked. She was more of a Biker than Fury ever was and she sure as hell was more of a Leader than him. It was all clear to them that she was a queen worth following and they followed her orders.

Drake, Cobra and Eagle followed her as she navigated her way through the halls, finding a door that led to a basement and immediately heading down the stairs. The four of them took out all the men in the halls and all the men who rushed from closed doors until there was not a single sound in the basement but their breathing.

There was only a single door left shut and they all stood before it, looking at each other with the same look. Drake reached out, ready to open the door but, to their luck, it was locked. 

"I got it," Cobra said, stepping forward and giving the door one solid kick and breaking it down.

Inside was a blood bath and at the center of the room, chained to a chair, holding a pistol weakly and covered in blood and gunshot wounds, sat Frank.

* * *

"Kill him."

The men loaded their guns and pointed them right at Frank. Frank clutched the golden coin around his neck, thinking of Charlie.

"I promise I'll come back to you."

He couldn't forget his promise. With lightening speed, Frank spun his chair around, the men firing their weapons and three of the bullets piercing him, the others getting lodged into the chair. Frank remained deathly still, pretending to be dead.

Luckily, he had managed to fool one of the men. He came walking around Frank's chair, pointing his pistol at him. "He's dead."

Frank immediately shot forward, the man shooting him in the side, but Frank managed to rip the gun from his hand and shoot him in the head and immediately spin the chair around again and finish off the rest of the men in the room.

Frank was ready to pry himself out of the cuffs but the effect of the six gunshot wounds, four fresh ones, had caught up to him and his head pounded and spun. 

"Charlie," he said weakly, trying to reach up for the necklace again but he couldn't even manage that.

* * *

"Frank!" Charlie screamed, running over to him, grabbing his face and watching as his eyes weakly opened to look at her. "Hey, keep your eyes open for me. Look at me."

His eyes were barely staying open but he was fighting hard to stay conscious. "Charlie..." he said quietly, his voice so weak and his body covered in blood and so many wounds.

Charlie looked down at him in horror, tears running down her cheeks. "Get these cuffs off him!" she shouted, Cobra and Drake going to each cuff and prying it off with all their strength, freeing Frank. "Stay with me, Frank. Keep your eyes open. You're going to be okay."

He looked at her weakly, his hand slowly lifting up to touch her cheek. 

"We're gonna get you back to the clubhouse, you're gonna be fine. Everything is going to be okay," she said, crying so much.

He watched her. The light of his life. The one and only thing that brought him happiness in this cruel and hopeless life he lived. She was perfect, she made his days better, so much better than they ever were before. It was cruel that he was only meant to meet her and then leave her. He wanted to spend more time with her, but he could feel death creep up in his stomach and begin to consume his mind.

"You cannot shut your eyes. I cannot lose you Frank, look at me!"

"At least..." he said weakly, his eyes beginning to roll back. It took every ounce of strength he had left to keep his eyes on her and he was slowly fading. "...I got to see...you...one last...time..."

Frank's hand fell and his eyes shut and Charlie looked down at him in horror. "Frank? Frank! Open your eyes! Open your eyes!" she screamed, crying so much and shaking him desperately, trying to get him to wake up. "You promised you'd come back!" she shouted, her head falling on his shoulder. "You promised! You promised!"

The rest of the club could hear her cry and their heads dropped.

Why'd they let him go alone on this run, again?

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