I pull out my phone one more time and send a final message to Ransom: Rolling out now. Wait for the cavalry.
Then I tuck the phone away and look at my brothers, the men who've chosen to follow me into battle. "Let's go get our queen back." Luckily my guys don’t question me, there’s no telling what I’ll say if they ask right now. I’m liable to spill it all.
The compound gates swing open, and we ride out into the night like the four horsemen of the apocalypse. Behind us, Thunder's voice crackles over the radio: "Godspeed, brothers. Bring her home."
As we tear through the streets toward the warehouse district, I make a silent promise to Dani and to myself. Tommy and the Rebels are about to learn what happens when you mess with the Devil's family. Tonight, there will be blood, and it won't be ours.
The hunt is on.
Chapter 14
Dani
"He's going to kill you, you know," I flinch when Tommy raises his hand toward my face. "When he gets here, he's going to kill you."
"Oh I hope he shows up, Daniela. I have a little something for him when he does." He lifts his shirt, showing where he's got a gun stuffed into the front of his jeans. "He started this, you know?"
I don't. There are a lot of things I'm aware of with my husband and the club, but I have no idea what this is. "No, I don't."
"Fourth of July. You ever wonder why all the guys weren't there? Why they showed up at the end of the night, and weren't there halfway through? They burned my goddamn greenhouse, Daniela. They burned my goddamn greenhouse. Then they got me arrested," he yells, pulling the gun out of his waistband and running it down the side of my face. "Now you're gonna pay for that."
While I suspected, I didn’t know. The cold metal against my cheek makes my stomach lurch. My wrists are bound tight behind the chair, the zip tie cutting into my skin every time I try to move. The warehouse smells like old tobacco and decay, and the single bulb hanging overhead casts eerie shadows that flicker across Tommy's face.
"You're insane if you think this is going to end well for you," I manage to say, trying to keep my voice steady even though my heart is hammering against my ribs.
Tommy laughs, a sound that makes my skin crawl. "You know what really pisses me off about you, Daniela?" He starts pacing in front of me, the gun still in his hand. "It's not just that your husband destroyed my operation. It's that you're better at this than I am."
I blink, confused. "What are you talking about?"
"The growing. The plants." His face twists with bitter jealousy. "I've been in this business for fifteen years, and some club princess comes along and grows better product than me in her first season. And since then you've just gotten better at it. Do you have any idea how humiliating that is?"
Despite everything, I almost want to laugh. This is about my greenhouse? About the marijuana plants I've been tending? "Tommy, that's…"
"Shut up!" He backhands me across the face, and stars explode behind my eyes. The taste of blood fills my mouth. "You think you're so special, don't you? Think your old man tells you everything?"
I spit blood onto the concrete floor, glaring up at him. "Devil doesn't keep secrets from me."
"Doesn't he?" Tommy crouches down in front of me, his eyes gleaming with malicious satisfaction. "Tell me, sweetheart, what does your husband do for work? Really do?"
"He runs the club. He…"
"He's a cop, Daniela."
The words hit me like a physical blow. "You're lying."
"Am I? Think about it. All those times he disappears for days. All those meetings he can't tell you about. The way he always seems to know when the heat's coming down." Tommy's grin is predatory. "Your precious Devil is working for the LSPD. Has been for years."
"No." The word comes out as barely a whisper. "No, you're lying. You're just trying to mess with my head."
"Why would I lie about that? I'm going to kill you anyway." He shrugs, standing back up. "But I wanted you to know the truth first. Wanted you to know that everything you thought you knew about your life was a lie."
My mind is reeling, trying to process what he's saying. Devil, a cop? It's impossible. Insane. The man I married, the man who leads the Saints, who lives and breathes the outlaw life, there's no way.
"He loves me," I say, more to myself than to Tommy.
"Maybe he does. But he's still been lying to you every single day of your marriage."
Rage builds in my chest, hot and fierce. Not at Devil—I refuse to believe this—but at Tommy for even suggesting it. For trying to poison what Devil and I have with his twisted lies.
