To shield.
I can’t let harm touch her, not if I have anything to say about it.
“Stick close,” I tell her, my voice low. “This gets worse… you’re behind me. Got it?”
She nods, swallowing hard, and I feel the weight of her trust.
Devil’s hands are slick and red, but her eyes are steel. She’s a rock, even as Creed’s face turns whiter than bone.
“Patch him up,” Reaper barks and two of the guys tear open a med kit, their fingers clumsy with urgency.
I steal a glance at Gwen. She’s pale, but her chin is lifted. Her eyes catch mine, and she holds my gaze. There’s somethingfierce in her hazel eyes.
“Need help?” Her voice cuts through the tension, surprising me.
“Keep an eye out.” It’s all I can manage, my throat tight. But something passes between us, some current that zaps right through the tension.
“Got it.” She nods, her lips pressing into a thin line and shifts slightly, angling her body toward the road.
Creed groans as someone presses gauze to his wound, a sound that punches me in the gut. “Hang in there, man.”
“Like I got a choice,” he grunts back, and there’s a weak chuckle from the group that doesn’t quite hide our shaking hands.
I look back at Gwen. The corner of her mouth quirks up just a fraction, but it’s enough to stoke the fire that’s been smoldering inside me since I first saw her.
“Thanks for staying,” I say, the words rough like sandpaper.
“Where else would I be?”
“Good question.” I smirk, but my heart’s not in it. Too much is at stake. Too much blood on the ground.
She steps closer, her shoulder almost brushing mine. It’s almost as if we’re partners in this dance of danger, whether we choose it or not. And right now, I wouldn’t have it any other way. We stand side by side, watching over our wounded president, over our brothers and sisters.
Surveying the crowd, Creed isn’t the only one hit. I see at least five people being worked on and another sprawled out on the ground with his woman lying over him, crying.
Reaper locks eyes with me. “Find out who’s hit.”
Nodding, I move to walk away when sirens cut through the air, piercing and relentless. They’re closing in fast. My gaze darts around, and my heart hammers against my ribs. I’ve tangled with the law enough times to know what comes next. Badges willswarm us with questions we aren’t going answer.
“Someone wanted us hit,” Gwen mutters, more to herself than to me, her brain ticking over like a well-oiled engine. “But who? And why?” She stares at the oncoming swarm of fast-approaching police cars.
“Questions for later,” I tell her, but she’s not content to sit back. I know Gwen will want to chase this rabbit down the hole.
Whoever came after my club, they’ve kicked a hornet’s nest. They don’t know the storm they’ve invited.
“Fine,” Gwen concedes. “We will find out who’s behind this.” She looks up at me. “Together.”
Her lips press into a thin line, determination etched into every feature. We’re knee-deep in chaos, our world turned upside down in a hail of bullets, but she’s standing strong like she was made for this fight.
“Club business,” I say as the sirens scream closer.
She’s ready to dive headfirst into this madness with the club and me. Hell, maybe she’s been waiting for something like this—waiting for a chance to prove she’s more than just Lucy’s kid sister.
Gwen holds up her camera. “I’ve got photographs. I can help.”
I reach for the camera. She steps back and puts it behind her.
With a frown, I warn her, “Stick close,” because somehow, in this screwed-up day, she’s become mine to protect. “We’ll go over the pictures together.” I glance at the first police car that has come to a skidding halt. “And hide it from the cops.” My hand finds hers, fingers intertwining naturally.
