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He plucks a cigarette from his pack and offers me one as well. My nerves are shot, so a blast of nicotine will certainly take the edge off. We both light up and it isn’t until we’ve taken a couple of drags before he speaks again.
“Tonight, huh?”
“I can be there in a few hours.”
“Not alone.”
“I’ll have Katana.”
Koyn takes another drag and blows out a plume of smoke from his nostrils. “We’ll all go.”
“I don’t need everyone, Bizzy’s fat ass included, fucking this up for me,” I growl, cracking my neck. “I’ll get in and get out.”
“No.”
“Prez…”
“Jesus Christ, Dragon, I said no. You’re not doing this alone.”
“You can come, but I can’t do this with all of…them.” Bizzy. Filter. Copper.
He studies me for a long beat, reading between the lines. Night Giant is my weakness. The one chink in my armor. Prez knows firsthand what that motherfucker did to me because he was there when I was just a young man on the run and looking for a safe place to land.
“All right. Give me an hour and then we’ll get rid of this sick piece of shit once and for all.”
Music to my ears.
“Listen up,” Koyn says after pushing away his empty plate from lunch. “Plans have changed.”
Copper gives me a warning glare, which means he must’ve interrogated Cove about this new thing we’re doing. He can shoot daggers at me all he wants, but I’m not quitting Cove. Not a fucking chance.
Koyn waits until everyone is crowded in the big house’s dining room and kitchen. The house is massive and swanky, reminding me of the house I grew up in, but all the tattooed bikers seem out of place. I force images of my mother out of my mind. She’d lose her shit if the Royal Bastards were in her pristine kitchen.
Ignoring the longing to hug my mother, I focus on Koyn. Somehow, he became more than a biker brother. He became a surrogate father when I was too ashamed and broken to go back to mine. I might be a shithead most days, but I’ll forever be grateful for the life Koyn gave me when I no longer had one.
“Tonight, we’re taking down Night Giant.”
“Hell yeah,” Nees shouts, fist pumping the air. “About damn time.”
“Not you, numbskull. Me, Katana, and Dragon.”
“Prez,” Filter starts, irritation in his tone. “I’m going too.”
“No,” Koyn grinds out. “It’s the three of us. In and out. We’ll be back by morning.”
“What about the intel?” Payne asks. “I thought we were using him to smoke out others.”
“Fuck the intel,” I snarl. “His expiration date is up.”
“We’re taking Hadley’s Tahoe,” Koyn continues, ignoring the arguing. “Filter, Halo, Gibson—make sure we’re stocked up on weapons. Bermuda, get in contact with Animal. Let him know we’re headed that way.”
Everyone begrudgingly breaks up to do as they’re told. I grab some of my favorite knives after a quick shower. Washing Cove’s scent off me wasn’t by choice. I just hate the idea of Night Giant smelling him. That bastard took enough from me. I’ll be damned if I let him take something as intangible as Cove’s smell too. Once I’m showered, dressed, and strapped for battle, I head outside.
A fucking angel awaits me.
Cove, dressed from head to toe in black, leans against Hadley’s Tahoe. His blond hair is messy on top of his head, like a chaotic halo. My wrecked angel. He’s been dragged to hell and clawed his way back out.
“Came to give me a goodbye kiss. How sweet,” I spit out, not meeting his penetrating stare. “I’m not in the mood.”
I’m absolutely in the fucking mood, but the second I get my lips back on him, I won’t be able to stop.
“Shut up, Dragon.”
His icy words are daggers in my heart. I love the cold pain of them. Cutting, stabbing, chilling.
“Go back to the clubhouse, Baby Prospect.”
“No.”
I stalk over to him, unable to keep from shoving my hips against his. His ass hits the side of the vehicle and he sucks in a sharp breath.
Don’t touch him. Don’t touch him. Don’t touch him.
My hand shakes as I ghost it over his delicate cheek. His lips part, inviting me to do so much more than touch. To kiss and devour and own.
He reaches up and grabs my wrist, tugging me closer. I study his pouty lips as he molds my hand around his throat. A thrill shivers down my spine.
“What are you doing?” I demand, my hand giving in to his need, tightening around his neck. “You’re a distraction.”
“I’m going with you.”
“You’re not.”
He grabs my leather cut, pulling me impossibly closer. I love the ragged sound of his breathing as my grip around his throat shackles him to me.
“What happens when he gets inside your head, Chase? What then?”
I recoil at my real name, shuddering as it violates me with memories of a boy I once was. Everything darkens around me. Despair claws at me inside my chest. The world spins and then my head slams against the hard earth.
