Page 71 of Penn

Chapter 27

Penn

“What’s wrong?” Dixie asks as I reach for my phone in my pocket. “Why’d we pass the house?”

“Someone’s following us,” I say, and call Pacino. “Got a tail.”

“What?”

The car’s headlights turn off, and my anxiety spikes. I don’t know if they’ve got a gun, or if they just plan on trying to run us off the road. “Just turned off their lights. And I think I saw two more join.”

“On it.”

“We’re being followed?” Dixie asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

After the threat from Stephen at the bar, this is the last thing she needs. I take her hand and give it a squeeze. “Nothing is going to happen to you or the baby. I promise.”

Her fingers tremble in mine, but she nods.

The exhaust of multiple motorcycles fills the air, and I smile. I hope someone’s following us. They’ll get their just deserts. I’ve done some shady shit in my life, but I’ve never targeted a pregnant woman. There’s not much lower one can go.

The cars turn off a side road as soon as six headlights come into view. Turning around, I head back to the house, thankful for my brothers. Considering I haven’t been able to count on my twin brother since catching him with Veronica, it’s nice to know I have loyal non-blood-related family.

“I’m tired,” Dixie says.

“Go on inside,” I say. “I’ll join you in a minute. Just wanna make sure no one’s dumb enough to come back around.”

She just nods, and I release her hand as Pacino opens the door for her. “Thanks.”

As she walks inside, I shake my head. “Like tonight hasn’t been rough enough for her.”

“I’ve got Scotty digging up every secret Stephen Patterson has buried. We’ll get him. And Kannon, Rooster, and Jethro took off after the cars,” he says as Capone rests on his bike with the kickstand down.

It’s nice knowing they’ve got not only my back but Dixie’s. She and I still need to have a talk about what exactly we’re doing now, but I think she needs to decompress a bit before we do that.

“Thanks, I—”

I stop and turn towards the house. Princess isn’t giving her happy bark at seeing Dixie. No, it’s a frantic, angry bark that pierces through the air. Wild and desperate, and then I hear the whimper of her being thrown against a wall.

“Dixie,” I breathe and take off running toward the house.

Pacino and Capone are right behind me, moving with surprising, lethal speed that matches my own panic. When I reach for the door handle, it doesn’t turn.

“She wouldn’t have locked it,” Capone says.

The barking rises to a fever pitch, followed by a heavy thud and yelp of a dog in pain. “Fucking shit bit me!”

“Back up,” Pacino says.

I do as he says, and he lowers his shoulder like a fullback punching through the line and breaks the door down. It splinters the frame, but I don’t care. I need to get to my girls.

“Stop kicking her!” Dixie screams. “Princess!”

“Fucking bitch bit me!”

The scene in the living room is pure chaos. The coffee table is flipped on its side, books and decorative candles Dixie bought scattered across the rug. In the center of the room stands Stephen, his face swollen and cut from the beating I delivered earlier. His foot winds back to kick Princess again when I launch myself at him, sending us both sprawling along the floor.

“Dixie, get to the bathroom,” I shout. “Capone, check on the dog.”