Page 5

The sound of boots hitting the ground reaches me a second before the Grave Saints Vice President rounds the side of the house.

He stops short, suddenly realizing why his crew hasn’t closed in on their little runaway.

They all know better. No one comes onto my property and leaves without a souvenir.

I cock the rifle and aim. “Any reason you’re on my property, Demon?” My voice is low, a growl that promises pain if he oversteps. It’s cold and unyielding, and it’s been known to put the fear of God in men far stronger and meaner than the ones standing before me.

He sneers at me and reaches for his own pistol. I watch him like a hawk. I used to think he was too smart to threaten me, but maybe I was wrong. I can’t tell if I’m relieved or disappointed when he doesn’t, in fact, aim it at me.

“You’ve got something that belongs to me.” His voice is dark, and the threat is clear even if he hasn’t acted on it yet.

My eyes don’t stray from him, not even as the three men from the field take a couple of tentative steps forward.

Bad move.

Like the crack of a whip, I swing my rifle around and shoot at the man in the middle. His shoulder jerks from the impact of the bullet. Shouts and curses ripple through the night air as I draw my weapon back to Demon.

His scowl promises retribution, but we both know that’s not going to happen.

Not here. Not now.

His club is no match for mine even on a good day.

“You really shouldn’t have done that,” he hisses.

“That sounds an awful lot like a threat,” I drawl as I cock the rifle once more. It’s all the warning I’m willing to give and more than he deserves. “What would Preacher have to say about this? I assume he hasn’t been made aware of his second-in-command entering enemy territory?”

I know all about the Grave Saints club. They use and abuse women. They deal in drugs that leave their users twitchy and unpredictable.

Not only that, but they kidnap women and girls and give them away like prized cattle to their men. The world would be better off if I just put them out of their misery.

Unfortunately, as much as I’d like to make an official declaration of war, I can’t without approval from National.

But keeping my Little Mouse safe from these bastards might as well be an act of war anyway. The only thing working in my favor is that they came onto my property. I have a right to defend it, but until a war is started on their end, my hands are tied.

The tension in the air mounts, sizzling like a lit fuse.

The scent of smoke from my rifle lingers, threatening something more. I arch a brow, waiting for Demon to make the next move.

I almost believe he’ll act when he lifts a hand, his dark eyes still on me, and snaps, “Fall back.”

I stand watch, unmoving. My eyes flicker between all of the men until I know they’re gone. Then, and only then, do I head inside and shut the door, locking it for good measure. I should probably call Ghost and Ruin. They’ll have my ass if I don’t call in for reinforcements, but I’m too distracted right now.

I sense her at my back without needing to catch her in my sights. She hasn’t moved, hasn’t run.

Smart.

Turning, I drink her in.

Now that I can get a proper look at her, I realize she’s in even worse shape than I thought. There’s an older bruise on her jaw, and cuts and scrapes litter her body, along with what are obviously fingerprints on her arms.

Our eyes collide, and hers flare wide. Her breathing hitches and grows ragged.

I take a step toward her. “Well,” I murmur. “What am I going to do with you now?”

CHAPTER 3

KAYLIE