My shutter clicks cut through the rumble of conversations and laughter, each snapshot capturing a fragment of their essence. Brotherhood isn’t just worn on patches, it is etched in every interaction, shared joke, and backslap.
“Hey, girl…” one member calls out, flexing his tattooed bicepsfor the camera, “… make sure you get my good side.”
“Do you have a good side, Tank!” another mocks, and a round of chuckles ripples through the group.
I can’t help but smile behind the viewfinder as I click away. Tattoos blur into leather, chrome glints under the sun, and all around me, the Royal Bastards wear their loyalty like armor.
Lucy told me there are a couple of chapters of the Royal Bastards here, and I feel perfectly safe.
Until I notice people diving for cover.
This is not men and women having fun and blowing off steam. In the distance, I see a man sprawled on the ground as blood oozes out of him. A bullet thuds into the man next to me. He buckles over and then falls to the ground. Turning, I look for cover and see Highway. He’s running toward me, and I sprint for him. We collide as a bullet hits the dirt near us.
“Sniper,” I say, looking up at the trees in the distance.
Highway puts my hand in his, and we run for cover behind a truck. Crouching down, I look at the chaos around us as MC members try to keep out of the snipers’ sight.
“Stay here,” orders Highway.
Reaching out, I grab his arm. “There are at least two snipers, and unless they’re switching between weapons, there’s also a handgun in the mix.”
“How do you know?”
“Afghanistan taught me a lot. Do you have a spare gun?”
“On my bike.”
“Well, what are we waiting for?” I grin at him, then jog to the next car.
The special forces soldiers taught me to keep low and never run in a straight line. A moving, unpredictable target is a lot harder to hit.
ChapterTwo
HIGHWAY
Bullets thunk into the ground around me, but I barely notice them as I run for her. Gwen ducks behind a car, and if I didn’t know better, I’d swear she was smiling. Her eyes lock with mine, and I hold out a hand, gesturing her to stay down and stay put. Another shot hits the ground at my feet, and I dive toward her.
“Stay the fuck down,” I growl at her.
“Where’s the fun in that?” She lifts her chin toward my bike. “Is the gun in your saddlebags?”
“You’re going to get shot.”
Gwen shakes her head. “Have you been listening to the shots and directions they’re coming from?”
“I’ve been chasing you across the fucking field.”
Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “That’ll get you killed.” Gwen turns and peeks over the top of the car we are hiding behind, her camera in her hand as she takes photograph after photograph. A bullet hits the car, and she ducks back down. “There’s a shooter in the trees. He’s in our direct line of sight, and if we go for your bike, we’re as good as dead.”
My gun is in my hand. I look down at it, but it doesn’t have the range to hit the sniper in the trees.
“How many shooters?” I ask her.
“At least two. But the other one isn’t firing. Our guy in the trees is providing cover for him to get away.”
“You’renothinglike your sister.”
Gwen smiles, and it lights up her entire face. “Thanks for noticing.” She frowns. “Hear that?”
