The command from behind me has me spinning like a top, and I raise my gun only to lower it a second later. I know when I’m outnumbered, even if I hate it. My mind’s racing to find another way out of this as I watch four figures walk toward me from the back fence. The yard is pretty damn big, and it takes them longer than I would have thought to get into some sort of light. But I don’t need to see them to know they’ve got four guns on me. However, the lights let me know I’m more fucked than I want to be.
Hounds. They’re all Hounds of the Reaper. The vests make it clear, and I recognize half the group. I curse but then grind my teeth together to keep my anger from showing more than I want it to.
I should have fucking known this was too good to be true. Why the fuck did I ever think bikers were the answer?
“We’re not with them.”
The growl isn’t what draws my eyes to the guy speaking. It’s the arrogance.
I can’t help but snort.Of fucking course. Of all the people to be here, it would be the asshole who started this shitty day for me. I also refuse to believe that I’m shaking a bit and giving myself away more than I should.
“Prove it.” I don’t know why I demand it. I’m outnumbered, outgunned. Got nothing on my side that should let me make the demands, and yet I can’t help it. Call it my upbringing or just a New Yorker thing, but I refuse to just stand here and let this go south. I worked too long and too hard for me and Ollie to be safe to just fall apart now.
“Oliver sent us,” Chains says, as if he pulled the one word from all the others in the universe that would make me believe him.
Shocked by his words, I feel my face go blank, and the glare I had when the other guy spoke disappears.
“He’s with Mama Bear and the cubs.” Chains keeps talking as he steps slowly forward, and I watch him, not raising my gun as I listen to him. “He’s safe. Came over asking us to help.”
He’s less than an arm’s reach away from me, and he quickly takes the gun out of my hands. I don’t fight him, and I hate myself for it. My mind is racing with why I just let him take my only weapon. His words could be a lie. There’s no reason for him to tell me the truth. I can think of a million and one reasons for him to lie, but not to tell me what really happened.
I take a deep breath and try to push my thoughts away. Beating myself up will only drain me faster. I need to concentrate on everything else right now and find a way to get away. To find Ollie and get out. Hopefully with a gun in my hand when I run, but I can make do with less. I have before.
“Anyone else in the house?” Chains asks as he nods to two of the guys I don’t know. I saw them at the party, but I didn’t talk to them. They make their way toward the house.
“Yes.” Everyone stops at my words. “But he’s dead.”
“Which room?” This from the one who’s almost double the size of the other guy who’s walking up the back porch. He’s easy on the eyes, but then again, so is the rest of the club. I can see the name Kooper on his vest as he moves on silent feet toward the door.
“The main bedroom. He thought I was sleeping.” Which is laughable. I never sleep at night, not anymore. Ever since this all started, I learned fast that sleeping was a luxury, and sleeping at night was a death warrant waiting to be signed. Iget a few hours in every day, just enough to function. No one has ever messed with us during the day. The sun keeps them away as if we have our own little beacon of sunshine to protect us. I’m not going to question it, as it’s kept me alert enough to keep going for this long.
“Damn, Bass, you need a raise.” The other one—Domino, based on his vest—leans down and stares at the body at the top of the stairs. “You didn’t miss a beat with this one. One clear shot and hit him dead center.”
I shift one foot back, just enough to move my body to see what he means. The guy wasn’t lying. The headshot was something I try for each time, and I usually get it… eventually. But all it took was one bullet from Bass.
Fucking Bass.
I don’t want to be grateful to him. Don’t want to appreciate his skills. I refuse to. So when I look back at him, still standing behind Chains, watching everything, I lock my jaw. My mama drilled into me to be polite. Okay, the shoe she used as a weapon to hit me with till I was polite and had manners kept me from snarking off at him. But it was my pride that refused to show gratitude, keeping me from speaking a word of thanks or smiling in kindness.
Kooper, who had disappeared into the house, shouts, “Clear,” and the others relax a bit. Guess I’m the only one who doesn’t trust well around here.
“I’ll call it in,” Chains says before he turns and hands Bass my gun, who dispenses the clip, pocketing it before tossing the rest of the useless thing on the ground next to the body.
I know I shouldn’t. I can practically hear my brother Vinny telling me to check my attitude before I even start, but I can’t help it. There’s something about this guy that just sets me off.
“You that scared of me?” I cross my arms and stick my hip out, ignoring the pain in my arm as best as I can, which isn’t much. I feel tired. Hell, I’ve felt tired for a long time, especially the past eighteen months, but I still keep going. It’s what I do. My brothers call it stubbornness, but I just call it survival.
“Nah. Saw how you shoot.”
His smirk has me showing my teeth and hissing at him. I have half a mind to reach out and scratch his pretty face and pull his hair, but I refuse to act like a typical girl. My urge to pull hair and scratch was something I was born with, and something I spend each day trying to curb. I’m in a man’s world, so I need to play by their rules. And that means fists and guns, not nails and shrill screams.
“Yeah, no one else. Koop already cleared it.”
Chains’ words pull our attention to him. He moved a few steps away and made a call. No clue to who, but I bet it’s the man in charge. I might not know this group, but I know how things work. Places like this always have a man in charge, and while these guys have an authority all to themselves, they still don’t carry the “weight of the world on their shoulders” look. Not yet anyway.
I know that look. I’ve lived that look.
“Going to put them on ice till we get this sorted. Yeah, she’s in the cave. Thanks, man, I owe you. Yeah, okay.”
