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With the cover of night, Killian and Shadow made their way to the rear entrance. The deep, s
low vibration of bass came from somewhere in the structure. And the place was fucking huge. Shadow wasn’t able to get a layout of the house, which was unusual.
They were about to turn a corner when Killian felt the cool edge of a blade on his throat. He froze. Normally, he’d fight, deliver an elbow into the enemy’s ribs, but this guy knew what he was doing, holding the sharp side so tight to his artery that just breathing put him at risk of bleeding out.
The second Shadow turned and saw what had gone down, he had a gun aimed at the guy’s head. Killian hoped Shadow was as good of a shot as he claimed to be. Boss said he was one of his best snipers being ex-military.
“Drop the knife, nice and slow, asshole,” said Shadow.
“You’re on my turf, so you don’t get to make demands.”
“Who the hell are you?”
“Today I’m known as Manic, but even back then I don’t think your friend knew my first name, just my father’s.”
Fuck! It was him, the Dead Angels MC prez. Why was he alone? Killian had expected an army of security around the leader. He’d gotten exactly what he wanted—his father’s murderer at his mercy. Luckily Killian trusted Shadow with his life.
“If you hurt him, you won’t walk away with a heartbeat. In fact, I’ll be sure to annihilate your entire fucking club,” said Shadow.
“I don’t want to kill your friend. In fact, he did me a favor ten years ago.”
Killian still hadn’t seen Manic face to face. He only remembered him as a skinny teenager, cowering with his mother. The guy holding him was comparable to his size, the arm braced over his chest thick with muscle and covered in ink.
“I’m not following,” said Shadow.
Manic removed the knife and shoved Killian, standing back into the darker shadows along the side of the house. “My father was a monster. I prayed for him to die long before you took his life.”
Killian frowned. None of this made sense. If Manic was thankful for the hit, why was June shot and why was there a hit placed on her and Killian Junior?
“I don’t buy it,” said Killian. “My mother was murdered. The first thing I did was kill the bastard who did it.”
“Then you loved her, but I had no love for my father or the way he ran the club. Now that I’m prez, I want things to be different.”
Killian rested his hand on one of his guns. Shadow still had his weapon trained on Manic. “Explain to me why I’m here then. Revenge for killing those losers in the bar? They were messing with my woman. I didn’t even know they were part of your club.”
Manic laughed. “Don’t you get it, Killian? I wanted you here. I wanted you to bring a shit storm of pain to my front door.”
****
June couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned, worrying about Killian. He wanted to make things right so they could be a family, but the risks were too great. She still had a hard time believing any of this was possible.
Why couldn’t things be simpler?
When the cell Killian had given her vibrated on the night table, she rushed to grab it, her thoughts focused on the man she loved.
“Killian?”
A low chuckle on the other line was deep and menacing.
“Who is this?”
“Your man works for me, June. Right now, I need your help.”
She sat up in the bed, her heart racing. Why was Killian’s crazy boss calling her? Was Killian hurt or worse?
“What’s going on? Is something wrong?” she whispered, not wanting anyone else in the house to hear her.
“When it comes to you, Killian doesn’t seem to think straight. He’s trying to take on an army with two men. Nothing I say will stop him because he wants the contract on you and your son gone.”
