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“What has you out here, P?” Axel asks, lighting up two cigarettes and handing one off to the man, who accepts it with a nod.
“Delia.”
“Why?” Emmett asks, folding his arms over his chest defensively, but Paisley doesn’t take him on.
“She called us in.”
“What for?” Ryker asks, interrupting his VP from trying to push this guy, but again, he seems completely unfazed by their approach. They’re either always like this with him or he just doesn’t care.
He takes a deep pull of his cigarette, the ember burning bright in the otherwise dimly lit area. “Boots on the ground for you. And before you ask me why again, it’s because I’m soft as shit on that woman and she fucking knows it.” Well, that really shouldn’t be surprising. If I've learned anything since I’ve arrived at the Ruthless Brothers MC, it's that we do crazy stupid shit for love. “Besides, I can see from here that the girl he has with him is nowhere near as acclimated to this way of life in comparison to this little lady here,” he states, pointing at me.
Any other time, I would fake innocence, but I’m literally covered in dried blood and none of it is mine. So there’s no point even trying to argue it. True or not. I step out from between my men, and he squints his eyes, tilting his head to the side as he stares at me. “You have a familiar face.”
Uhh… okay?
“What’s your club?” I ask, irritation starting to flood through my veins with the fact that we’re out here chatting and not helping Emily.
“Iron Scorpions.”
It sounds familiar, and his name isn't all that common either, but I still feel like I’ve heard it before. “It sounds familiar, but right now, my best friend is in danger and that needs all of my attention,” I offer, giving him a tight smile. I take a step back, hoping to get everyone else moving, but he isn’t done questioning me yet.
“Is that why you’re covered in blood?”
I glance over my shoulder at him. “Yeah.”
“I’m nervous to ask but whose blood is it?” he replies with a smirk, and I shrug.
“It’s Kincaid’s.”
The ember from his smoke makes it possible to see his eyebrows raise in surprise at my words. “As in the Devil’s Brutes?”
I nod once, before turning back around and marching toward the diner. Catching him up to speed isn’t on my agenda. Not when a flash of blonde hair and a familiar button nose is visible in the left corner of the diner.
“Scarlett,” Shift hollers, the urgency clear in his tone, but I keep going.
That motherfucker has Emily, and he’s sitting in Ryker’s usual booth. That can’t be a coincidence. It’s all mind games with these assholes.
“It’s better if I go in first alone, you know, since I don’t wear a cut and I’m not even a little bit intimidating.” Axel rolls his eyes, and I smirk.
Brushing past one of Graham’s men, I unhook the gun from his hip before he even realizes it’s gone. I don’t slow my pace as I check it over, making sure it’s loaded and knocking the safety off. I’m done with the bullshit rules that no one else follows, and I’m tired as shit. So I’m walking in there, getting my best friend, and passing the fuck out.
I manage to tuck it into the waistband of my pants before I reach the steps up to the diner, fully aware of the two Devil’s Brutes standing on either side of the glass.
They both shuffle to block the door, sneers on their lips as a little red dot appears on both of their chests. “Lay a fucking finger on her and we will happily take the shots,” Axel bites. I’m sure they’re going to move to the side, but the guy on the right grins, slowly reaching out to press the tip of his finger against my shoulder.
“You wouldn’t—”
He doesn’t get to finish his sentence as the echo of the shot rings around us and the foolish Brute drops to the ground. Dead.
“Do you want to try your luck too?” I ask, grinning wickedly at the other Brute who is now gaping at his friend in shock.
“I’m good,” he mumbles, clearing his throat as he steps to the side, but the sound of a bullet rings out and another body drops to the floor in a heap of limbs. Looking over my shoulder, I eye Axel, who shrugs.
“I didn’t like his choice of leather.”
Shaking my head at his antics, I step inside, taking a deep breath as I realize every single person in here, bar two, are wearing Devil’s Brutes’ cuts. They’re watching me like a hawk, but despite two of their men dropping outside, no one immediately rushes me.
The two in here without a cut are sitting in the booth I’m after.
