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Brewer cupped the side of her face and kissed the tip of her nose. “Let’s get you home.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
She wrapped her arm around his waist and leaned against him. They might not be out of danger yet, but with her Macha man by her side, Delphi would be perfectly safe.
CHAPTER39
BREWER
Distractingthe Greenback Cutthroats was easy.It should be, at least.Brewer glanced over his shoulder at the Macha bikers following him to the cantina. The plan was simple enough. There was no way they could sneak into the cantina without the Cutthroats seeing them. Hell, he’d bet the Cutthroats already knew they were on the way. They weren’t exactly inconspicuous. Not with the way they were revving engines while dressed in full Macha MC gear.
When they reached the cantina, the bikers split into three groups, two of which immediately pulled the Cutthroats into a fight at the cantina while his group went to find Delphi. Thanks to their informant within the dollhouse, Brewer knew where they were keeping Delphi.Thank the goddess for small favors.He’d have to pay his sister back for this one, but it was worth it. Delphi was worth all this and more.
They parked their bikes behind the dollhouse and hurried toward the side entrance. Brewer waited until Hawk and Kevlar made it safely before opening the door. It wasn’t locked, thanks to Dolly’s contact. Gunshots rang out and Brewer paused to look toward the cantina. His brothers would buy them as much time as they could.
Racing up the stairs, Brewer opened the door to the third floor and a fist greeted him. He staggered back, his eye pulsing from the blow. Hawk and Kevlar caught him before he toppled down the stairs.
“You get this guy,” Hawk said, pushing him back up. “I’ll sneak by and distract the next one.”
Brewer nodded and opened the door again, this time ducking before the Cutthroat’s fist connected. Hawk rushed out of the stairwell and down the hall. Two Cutthroats came out of rooms to chase him. If he hadn’t been busy dodging blows, Brewer would have chuckled at the sight of Hawk running away from the hulking Cutthroats.
“Macha scum isn’t allowed here,” the Cutthroat biker said, throwing a wild punch.
Brewer jabbed the man in the gut and hook punched his jaw in response. The biker fell to his knees, and Kevlar took over by kneeing the man in the face.
“Hurry and find Delphi. I have a feeling the Cutthroats won’t let us stay long,” Kevlar said, pulling a gun from his waistband at the small of his back.
Nodding, Brewer raced down the hallway in the opposite direction Hawk had gone. He poked his head into a few rooms, coming up empty each time. More gunfire caught his attention and his pulse skyrocketed. These shots were from inside the building. He had to find Delphi.
Rounding a corner, he spied two Cutthroats outside a door at the end of the hallway. She was in there—he just knew it. Cracking his neck, he stepped out of the shadows and braced himself for the onslaught of Cutthroat fists. He wasn’t worried. Hell, he trained with an ex-MMA fighter. He could hold his own long enough for help to arrive. One thing was certain: Brewer wasn’t about the let anything else happen to Delphi. Not while he still breathed.
* * *
SeeingDelphi holed up in that room sent off a primal desire in Brewer’s gut. She was his. He’d make it as official as she wanted, but his word was enough. Once they made it outside the dollhouse, Brewer loaded Delphi into the truck with Doc, shutting the door behind her.
Delphi rolled down the window, her cute nose wrinkled. “Wait, where are you going?”
“I drove my bike.”
“Then I’ll ride with you.” She reached for the handle.
He shook his head. “Nah, you’re not dressed for it.” He kissed her quickly, then patted the side of the truck. “I’m right behind you.”
She seemed to accept this, but he didn’t bother adding the last part out loud.And I have somebody’s ass to kick.
Brewer waited until the truck pulled onto the road before he turned toward the cantina. Setting his jaw, he made quick work of the distance and strode into the bar. The upbeat mariachi music did little to soothe his fiery temper. The walls held recently peppered bullets, reminding Brewer that he was walking into trouble. Thankfully, Rubble, Cueball, and Snoopy had his back, guns drawn and ready for more action. From the looks of it, the Cutthroats had waved the white flag moments earlier, their guns in the middle of the cantina protected by armed Macha bikers.
“I need to settle up with Granite,” Brewer said, searching the bar for the man.
“Somebody lookin’ for me?”
Turning, Brewer met Granite’s gaze and didn’t think—he just swung. The other man stumbled backward, but Brewer didn’t let him fall. He followed him and grabbed his vest, punching him again and again. Blood spurted from Granite’s nose and mouth, landing on Brewer’s jacket. He didn’t give Granite a chance to even get a return blow in. The other man collapsed into a booth, his face battered.
Pulling Granite up by his shirt, Brewer lowered his voice. “Stay the fuck away from my old lady, or I swear to the goddess you’ll never use your dick again.” He dropped his hold and let the other man fall limp into the booth.
Stumbling backward, Brewer fixed his jacket and wiped the blood from his fist. He glanced around the cantina and noticed the Cutthroats grew more agitated. They needed to get out of there before another fight broke out. Sully stepped forward and Brewer held back throwing a punch at the bastard.
“I suggest you leave, son,” he said, the warning evident in his tone.
