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RYDER
Roxy turns up for breakfast with a big yawn. The shirt she’s wearing is see-through, and she has no knickers or a bra on. I almost drop my cup, I’m staring that hard. She smirks when she catches me and winks before plopping into her seat and putting her legs on my lap. Rolling my eyes, I cup her toes as I go back to reading the updates on my phone.
She slept for almost a day after our reunion, as Diesel is calling it. Her body is still sore, so I don’t push it, even though I want to bend her over the table and fuck her. We put her through hell that night, her blood covering the living room, she paid her penance with orgasms for trying to leave us. And she loved every goddamn minute, even though, when we were finally done with her and held her as she fell asleep, she said she hated us. She’s such a goddamn liar.
“Diesel, care to explain why we now have another yacht?” I ask, looking up to see him leaning back with a smirk while Garrett groans.
“I told you he would find out, D.” He laughs.
D shrugs. “Well, you see, I was walking along, minding my own business, when I saw a yacht called Roxy. Now, of course no one other than us could own a boat named after our girl, so I offered them lots of money to buy it.” He shrugs as Roxy laughs, cupping the mug of coffee Kenzo hands her.
“You’re forgetting the part where he said no, so you beat the shit out of him with a frying pan and told him the boat was yours now and to call you Captain Crazy,” Garrett adds as he eats.
It’s silent for a moment, then we all roar with laughter as Diesel grins. He glances over at Roxy and winks. “You can just call me crazy, Little Bird.”
“We already have a yacht.” I sigh when I can control my laughter.
“Well, now we have two, we can race them.” Diesel laughs, flipping his lighter open and shut.
I’m about to try and explain why we won’t be doing that when my phone rings, interrupting me. Answering it, I massage Roxxane’s cold toes, but freeze at the words that come down the line.
“There’s been an explosion.”
I sit up, my body rigid, as all hints of anything but the Viper disappear. “Where?”
“The old house.” Tony sighs.
“Any hurt or dead?”
I can feel the others staring, so I hold up my finger to tell them to wait.
“No, it was empty. Fire and police are here, but we know them, so they are going to say it’s a gas explosion and will be gone soon.”
“Thanks, Tony, keep me updated,” I snarl.
“Oh, and boss? We found motorbike tracks leading onto the dirt road behind the house, four of them.” He hangs up.
Bikes.
Triad.
Those fucking idiots. I’m going to kill them for this. This isn’t just a sly dig at our power, this is an all-out act of war. We could have dismissed the assassination attempt as youthful enthusiasm and still got them in line, but this?
This marks their deaths.
Slamming the phone down, I look to the others who are ready, their bodies vibrating with tension, knowing something has happened. “They blew up the old house.”
“Triad,” Garrett growls, his hands clenched into fists, and I incline my head.
“They found bike tracks out back. Police and fire will rule it as a gas explosion.” I grind my teeth, and I can feel Roxy frowning at us.
“The old house?” she asks, but I’m too infuriated to answer, too busy counting mentally to even speak. To not explode and rain down fucking hell across this city that dares cross us.
“Our father’s house. We lived there after his death for a while as we built this,” Kenzo tells her, but even his voice is tight.
To hit that house, our house, they are trying to provoke a reaction. If we don’t retaliate, we’ll be seen as weak, like we are scared of them, which we aren’t. Their family might have used to run this town, but now they are nothing but relics.
Relics can be forgotten.
