“And you won’t! Go! Defend our home!”
His eyes scanned my face for a second before he seized my shoulders again and kissed me. A kiss that said so much.
Stay safe.
Come back to me.
Don’t get hurt.
I need you.
He pushed me slightly away and pressed his forehead against mine.
“Be safe, Rachel. For the love of God, be fucking safe,” he whispered.
“I will. Go.”
I pulled away and ran into the crowd, racing behind the nearest tree.
I slapped a hand over my mouth as a bullet shattered the bark, scurrying over to the next tree, and ducked down low.
It was madness.
Men were dropping like flies, the screams, the sounds, the smell of gunfire and blood. Some of the Riders were still on their bikes, racing through the club grounds, shooting anyone they came near.
And that’s when an idea came to mind.
I went back to the Rider I had kicked, and pulled him to the bushes, ridding him of his leather jacket and put it on. I grabbed one of the abandoned helmets off the floor and made a beeline for the bikes.
I was probably committing the ultimate club sin wearing another club’s patch, but right now, I couldn’t give a fuck.
I flung my leg over one of the bikes, kick-starting it, and drove it into the chaos, shooting at any man I didn’t recognise.
Men dove out of my way, and more bullets were shot in my direction, but I forced the fear down, unable to give into it, because if I did, I would never survive this.
I shot at a man approaching from the sidelines, sending him flying backwards, his t-shirt immediately becoming crimson around his stomach.
I dodged a body on the floor, twisting the bike as I recognised it as Shawn.
Jesus fucking Christ!
I fired off a few more shots, some hitting my targets, some not, and that’s when a bullet hit my bike, knocking me off balance. I went flying forward, crashing into the bushes.
I landed on the floor in a painful heap, the bike wheels still spinning at the side of me. My palms were sliced open, my head taking a beating as it smashed off the ground. Luckily, I was protected by the helmet, but that didn’t stop it from hurting like a bitch. I pulled the thing off and threw it to the floor, cringing at the damage it had sustained.
“Rachel,” came the pained gasps of Hacksaw. I spun around, noticing him clutching his arm.
“You’re hurt?” I gasped, crawling over to him.
“Just my arm. What are you doing here?”
“I’m protecting my family! What happened?” I asked, shrugging off the leather jacket and pressing it against his wound.
He shoved my shoulders, sending me back onto my ass and threw the jacket away as though it was literal shit.
“Never do that again,” he snarled at me, spitting on the jacket.
“Sorry,” I cringed. “I forgot whose jacket it was. I was—”
