The woman’s face contorts, a snarl pulling at her lips. “You think you’re smart, don’t ya?” Her voice is a low growl.
I hold my ground though every instinct screams to bolt. “Smart enough not to trust easily,” I shoot back, gripping the knife behind me tighter.
“Too smart,” she spits, her eyes narrowing into slits. “You’re playing a dangerous game.” A bitter chuckle escapes her as she takes another menacing step forward. “I was Venom’s Ol’ Lady,girl. President of the Crimson Wheelers.”
Chills race down my spine, and I inch away, my boots scraping against the concrete.
Jesus Christ! I’m in deep, way over my head.
“Venom…” I hiss under my breath.
“Got it in one,” she sneers, prowling closer like a predator circling its prey.
I swallow hard, retreating until my back meets cold metal. Nowhere left to run.
Movement flickers in the periphery, a shadow detaching from darkness. Highway. My pulse spikes, a cocktail of fear and relief flooding my veins. Reaper slinks beside him, ghost-like. They move with lethal grace, unnoticed by the woman whose focus is locked on me.
Backup has arrived, but the danger isn’t over. Not by a long shot.
“Tell me,” I demand, sidestepping away from her. “Why come after me?”
She paces like a caged animal. “Followed Highway, didn’t I? To your cozy little home.” Her lips curl back, exposing yellowed, rotting teeth. “Tore it apart, looking for something, anything, to hit the Bastards where it hurts.”
My heart pounds. This woman invaded my home.
A cold laugh tumbles from her, echoing in the warehouse. “Killing you?” She shakes her head, a twisted amusement in her eyes. “Not as sweet as taking down one of them. One of them Bastards, but it’ll do.”
Her confession hangs heavy in the air. My gaze flickers to the shadows to where Highway and Reaper stay hidden.
Electric silence crackles between us. I swallow hard, every muscle taut, ready to spring, to flee. But where? This is a trap, and I walked straight into it.
“Then come on,” I taunt, my voice low, eyes locked on hers.“Do what you came for.”
She lurches—a sudden blur of motion, all rage and recklessness. My breath hitches, and adrenaline surges as the distance closes between us.
In that heartbeat, the shadow becomes a savior. Highway steps out. A ghost turned guardian. His presence, a silent promise—I am not alone in this dance with death.
“Lyric, watch out!” His voice shatters the tension.
The woman’s hand whips forward, steel glinting in the dim light, a knife aimed with deadly precision. Time slows, and my body coils, ready to twist away.
“Highway…” A whisper, a prayer, as metal approaches.
Her arm descends, fury etched into every line of her being, the knife plunging down.
Darkness swallows my scream, and the world freezes.
ChapterEighteen
Highway
I’m a heartbeat away from being too late. Adrenaline surges as my boots pound the concrete, closing the distance to Lyric. The woman’s arm is a coiled viper, the blade glinting with deadly intent.
Please, God, no.
“Lyric!” My voice rips through the tension.
Her scream pierces the chaos, slicing through me. But as I surge forward, fueled by raw panic and something fiercer—protectiveness—the distance between us shrinks to nothing. My hand lashes out, fingers wrapping around the attacker’s wrist with an iron grip.
