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Maybe I should have taken Maggie’s advice and had a shot or two on the way out here. That might have taken the edge off. It also has the chance to knock my focus too, and that takes priority right now.
I’m used to making my hits from a distance most of the time. That’s what my paid jobs were, but up close and on the line like this is an entirely different feeling.
Emmett sweeps his tongue over his bottom lip as he eyes me. Gray adjusts himself through his jeans, making a show of it as my thighs clench, while Ryker’s hand palms the globes of my ass, and Axel glares over my shoulder.
What—
“Boys, you sure make Scarlett come out of herself, don’t you? I don’t think I’ve seen her in anything other than a band tee and shorts. Well, unless we count the time I took her—”
Axel slams a dagger down into the wooden table with force, rattling the bottles on top and making my heart skip a beat. “Choose your next words wisely. I’ve already warned you, Declan. Keep pushing, you’re not going to get far.”
“Woah, man. I asked one of the Bitches, and they said Scarlett’s fair game.”
I want to glare in their direction, Molly’s more specifically, but instead I keep my features bored as I stare at him. None of that matters when Ryker pulls me down into his lap in the next second, pinning me to his chest as he breathes against my ear.
“The bitches don’t run this club, Declan. I do. If I say a whore is just for me and my closest, then that’s what she is.”
Goosebumps prickle over my neck from his lips and my thighs from his hands. They’re not supposed to be turning me on right now, but it’s clear I don’t have a say in it.
Revving of engines rumble.
It’s time.
In the driveway, three bikes draw closer, and the late evening glimmer of sun shines down on the Devil’s Brutes’ patches. They take their time, playing this out just as I expected. The guy at the front rises from his seat once he’s come to a stop, taking his helmet off to reveal one of the men from the shopping mall.
My nails dig into Ryker’s thighs, anger heating my limbs as I hold myself back.
It takes a moment for me to confirm it, but there’s no Kincaid here. He’s sent his men instead.
“Celebration?” the Brute asks, staring around at everyone as the music dies down.
“What the fuck do you want?” Gray bites, his anger aimed at the Brute, but it’s rising inside him for the exact same reason as mine is.
“Kincaid sent us here to tell you he fuckingknowsEuro isn’t here, and you’re going to pay for thinking you can outmatch him.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I spy Declan’s hand resting on his gun at his hip, but tilting slightly to see beyond him, I watch the open surprise on Graham’s face.
That’s all we needed to know.
“Do you have anything in response to that?” the Brute asks, grinning like he’s the man with all of the power, but he has none and knows nothing.
Just. Like. Kincaid.
“Yeah,” Axel replies, leaning back in his seat with a grin so manic even I’m caught off guard. “You can tell him this is for Duffer,” he bites. My heart lurches as Ryker bands his arm tightly around my waist. “All the way from hell.”
In slow motion I watch in complete awe as Axel takes him out with a gunshot to the head at the same time Gray and Emmett lift their weapons and take out the other two Brutes with precision.
Holy fuck.
In sync, three prospects rush forward, checking over the dead bodies before organizing their removal, but my attention drifts to Ryker as he shifts beneath me.
“Did you want anything else, Declan?” he offers, noting the fucker that still lingers at our side. There’s a tinge of distrust in his voice that is warranted but goes unheard by the fucker in question.
“Nah, man. I’m good.” He steps back without a word, but he’s already shown his hand. I wait until he’s out of earshot before leaning into Ryker.
“His hand was poised on his gun, but Graham looked shocked as fuck by the interruption.”
“He has no clue.”
