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“Don’t play games. We’re not fucking mind readers,” I snapped, opening the door. “What are you thinking?”
“This smells of the Faceless Frat.”
Dad whispered, “Yeah.”
“But they hadn’t tagged this building,” Spectre said. “Although, it is near the casino.”
“Exactly. The fuckers are beginning their attack.” Hustler got out of the truck and stalked toward an officer.
“It could also be the Hell’s Bells retaliating. But I doubt it.” This mayhem was most definitely the Faceless Frat.
“My gut says FF.” Dad hopped out of the truck.
Mine too.
We pushed through the crowd and went the way Hustler had gone.
“I think everyone is out,” a young cop said.
“My brothers don’t work here. They went into the building to rescue a friend when they saw the explosion,” Hustler told him. “I don’t see them anywhere.”
“What are their names? I’ll ask around.”
“Jonah and Micah Knight. And there’s also—”
“Cobra!” I turned around and saw Easton trotting toward us. “They’re over here!”
“Thanks, man.” Hustler patted the cop on the shoulder.
“Hey, wait. Can I ask you something?” The dude raised his hand.
The rest of us didn’t stick around to hear what he had to say.
“What do you know?” I asked Easton. His road name was Copter, and Mason’s was Gunner. In my club, the prospects went by their first name until they patched in.
“Buff has some inhalation, and Bone has some burns.”
“Is it bad?” If Bone was conscious, he wouldn’t let them take him to the hospital.
“Not sure. I’m not a doctor.”
“Smartass,” I hissed, following him to an ambulance. When I saw Stitch with Bone, the sight of him eased my worry. Spectre had called him on our way to the call center. He wasn’t sure he could leave the hospital. “How is he?”
Stitch glanced at me. “Second and third-degree burns on the left side of his neck, shoulder, and arm.”
“I’m not going to the hospital,” Bone grumbled. “Take me to the clubhouse.”
“Can you handle it?” I asked Stitch.
He glared and walked away, giving me the bird.
“Guess that means yes.” Bone gritted his teeth. “Fuck, I hurt.”
“Glad you’re going to be okay, brother.” I eyed Buff sitting at the back of the ambulance. Another man was beside him. “Is this Reign’s dad?”
He lowered the oxygen mask. “Yes. Bill Rochester.”
“Any idea who’s behind the explosion?”
