I raise my hand to shield my eyes from the sun’s glare as I look around. I have to hand it to the Hounds. They know how to make a backyard that fits all their needs. Huge-ass fire pit, plenty of seating with the picnic tables, and even a section over to the side for the kids to play in a damncastlewith three slides and wolves—or maybe they’re Hounds—howling at the moon carved into it.
Chains is drinking a beer with another brother sitting at a table near where Teddy and Ollie are playing. I nod as I walk toward them.
“Where’s Bass?” Chains asks as he tips his bottle back.
I jerk my head to the clubhouse behind me. “Inside. Flint wanted a word.” The two Hounds exchange a look before they turn back to me. I just raise one shoulder and answer before they can ask. “No clue, but it didn’t look good.”
“I’m sure it’s fine,” the other one—Jumper, based off his vest—says.
I just give a noncommittal nod as I walk closer to the kids. Their park area is blocked off by some pavers that createa break between their rubber ground and the dead grass around the rest of the club. The boys are laughing as they hang upside down and pretend the whole thing is a parkour course, making me smile.
I wander a bit, just a few steps, and glance about. The look Flint gave Bass had my heart skipping a beat, and I swear I felt it for Bass too. Probably why we both took a second together before parting. I mean, that’s whyIdid it. I don’t think he did it for any type of claim. I might not have been around bikers long, but I know the significance of a claim in the familia. It’s a big deal back home if you kiss a girl in front of people outside a party. When it’s at a party or something, it’s almost expected. That steam is let off, and more often than not, it means nothing. But during the day? No drugs or alcohol in sight? Yeah, that means something.
And I honestly don’t know how I feel about it. Seriously. I have no feelings. I don’t hate it. But I also don’tnothate it. It just feels like… something. Home? Reality? I just don’t know. But what I do know is, if it happens again, I won’t back away.
The squeal of tires has me looking at the gate that I can barely see from where I’m standing. I react without thought and head toward the sound like a pirate being led to the cliffs by a siren’s call.
A black SUV rams into the partially open gate and pushes it wide open. It slams into the row of bikes in front of the club, followed by a second black SUV that smashes into the guard shack. I watch in frozen horror as the prospect who was standing by the guard shack flies through the air and lands among the wreckage. A third SUV drives in and stops right atthe entrance before the doors fly open and men with fucking Uzis pile out and start shooting at everything.
Someone grabs me, and I look over to see it’s Chains as he pulls me back behind the building. I look around and see Hounds filing out the back. I also saw a few go out the front before I got pulled in. I don’t remember how many brothers were inside, but I’ve got no clue if it’ll be enough.
“Get down and stay out of the way,” he yells at me as he pushes me toward Ollie and Teddy, who are under a picnic table with Jumper beside them.
“Give me a gun,” I shout over the gunshots exploding around us.
“Jumper, get her a gun.” Chains goes back to the building, looking out before taking aim and a few shots.
Jumper pulls a gun from his back before he crosses in front of me, yelling over his shoulder as he goes to cover Chains. “Get the kids inside. Place will go into lockdown once we get the civilians in the clear. Head toward Flint’s office.”
“Ollie, Teddy, with me!” I call to them, and they climb out from under the table and run to me.
I keep my gun and eyes out front as I walk backward, keeping the boys behind me. The compound has the clubhouse, an L-shaped building but in reverse, and an enormous property surrounding it to include the club’s garage business. The front gate is only a chain-link fence, so it’s easy to break through, but the side gates are more reinforced by nature and brick half walls. The kids’ area is toward the top of the horizontal part of the building, the farthest spot from the back door.
Most of the gunshots are on the other side of the building, at the front where I saw Hounds running to. I don’t know where Bass is, and I don’t have time to worry about him when I can only think about me and Ollie. I don’t know who’s behind this, and I don’t care. If someone shoots at me and mine, I shoot back. No questions asked.
The wooden castle that held the kids five minutes ago erupts into splinters. The boys yell but keep moving. A group of men in suits comes into view, and I fire on instinct, as do Jumper and Chains. I watch all the suits go down, but not before one gets a lucky shot in on Chains, taking him down too.
Teddy yells for his father and is running toward him before I can react. I’m quick enough to grab Ollie, who goes to follow his friend. “No,” I order just as more guys cross into the backyard. Teddy makes it just in time for Jumper to pull him behind him as he and Chains keep up the firing. But there are too many, so I pull their fire when I aim and take two out on my own.
My clip empties before I can take another one out. I turn, grabbing Ollie’s shirt, and push him to run. I have no clue where we’re going, but anything is better than staying out in open for target practice.
I run toward the back door, but there are so many bullets blocking it that I have to force Ollie to the back of the property toward a side building. As soon as we get to the other side, I push Ollie against the wall. He looks to me, and I hold my finger up to keep him quiet. He nods and pulls his pocketknife, flipping it open just as I look back to see if anyone is getting close.
A fist smacks me so hard that I stumble back and fall on my ass. I kick out quickly, sweeping the guy’s leg and making him fall. I’m on him in a second, and we struggle for his gun. He grunts, and the lucky bastard gets a clean hit to my temple with his elbow. I shake my head against the blurry vision but double my efforts, taking a chance and dropping the gun to use both my hands. I hit his head like I would a speed bag, over and over again. I tighten my knees, trying to pull them together to keep him pinned.
Then I do the stupidest thing and focus on the guy below me. Sure, he’s a threat to me, but that leaves my back open. My weakness is out in the open. Mykidis unprotected.
A “Stop” has me pausing. Not the word but the accent behind it.
TheRussianaccent.
I turn to look behind me. The guy below me isn’t moving much, so I stay seated on him as I see Ollie being held by an arm across his chest and a gun to his head. His captor isn’t much to look at, nothing that screams Russian descent. Black hair, dark eyes, suit. Sure, mafia men dress similarly, but so do lawyers. It’s the accent that gives him away. That and he’s holding my kid.
I hold up my hands slowly as I eye the gun. But my gaze drops to Ollie’s hand as the flash of light catches my eye a second before I see him use it to stab the guy’s leg behind him.
The Russian prick reacts to the pain and leans toward the knife sticking out of his upper thigh, pushing Ollie out of the way. I grab the gun from the assumed Russian I’m sitting on and use his finger that’s still on the trigger to fire it, hittingthe asshole in the head. As he falls, I stand up and grab Ollie’s hand, then start running back toward the clubhouse.
I haven’t heard many shots, so I’m taking the risk to run back the way we came. Being unarmed and with no backup, it’s the safest place, now that I know who’s here.
