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“Get down!” I shouted just as the fucking pallet exploded.
Everyone dropped to the ground, but the few guys who hadn’t exited the building yet were tossed on their ass. It wasn’t the only fucking bomb, though. I saw him farther down by another warehouse, smoking a cigarette like he didn’t have a care in the world. He lifted something in his hand and flashed me a wicked grin. Fuck.
Reaper was getting to his feet, heading for his bike, when I figured it out. I raced for him and tackled him to the ground just as another blast took out the fucking bikes and Nevada’s truck. I didn't feel the first one, the walls from the warehouse blocked most of it and I was already outside, but the second one I fucking felt since we were so damn close.
If we’d been any closer, or getting on our bikes, we would’ve been killed. We got lucky that we were on the ground, heads covered, and the damage was limited. Heat blasted over me, making me wince. I felt shit hitting me, cutting my arms and hands more than anything else. The blast itself tossed a few of the bikes, and it was sheer dumb luck that none of them landed on anybody. My ears were ringing, and I couldn’t hear shit. It was Reaper’s grip on my cut, yanking me to my feet, that got me moving. He shoved me away from the smoking building and the remnants of our bikes. People were stumbling, leaning on each other, as we tried to get away.
And because a fucking explosion wasn’t enough for Hammer, a few more guys were waiting for us by the second gate. I didn’t see him anywhere, but we didn’t have any time to search the area. Croy and Reaper were already firing, but it took me a second to pull out my piece and respond. I felt like someone scrambled my brain and my vision was fucked. My aim was complete shit, and Reaper had to shove me out of the way when one of them aimed for me.
The sirens were getting fucking obnoxious, and my head was screaming at me. We took out the guys blocking the way and ran, not stopping until we were blocks away in a shitty run down area with plenty of abandoned houses. Croy picked one at random, breaking the front door down, and we piled inside, a few guys being dragged either from being shot or from the damn shrapnel. Reaper shoved me forward, dumping my ass on the ground in the living room while he moved to the front window to act as lookout.
“What the fuck just happened?” Brewer growled.
“It was a trap. Should’ve thought of that,” Croy snarled, pacing the room. “That fucking asshole figured we’d come for him.”
I shook my head slowly, the pressure in my head making my stomach turn. “Sorry, man. I didn’t know–”
“Shut the fuck up, Clink. You didn’t do shit but what I told you to do.”
True, but I probably should’ve been more cautious. Maybe had him bring me inside or something. I would’ve seen it before the product got on there. My stomach turned over again, and I leaned to the side, heaving up what little food I had in my system.
“What the fuck is wrong with him?” Croy demanded.
Reaper stepped away from the window, moving to kneel on my other side. He forced my head up, his brows drawn together as he looked me over. “Probably has a concussion. Idiot threw himself on top of me when the second blast went off.” He sounded pissed, but he was the closest to the bikes. I doubted he would’ve survived.
Pushing his hand away from where he gripped my face, I scowled at him. “I’m fucking fine. My head just hurts. We calling the rest of the crew?”
Reaper ignored my efforts to push him away. It wasn’t like I was trying that hard. I felt sluggish and exhausted, which only pissed me off more. He took out his phone, using the flashlight to check my eyes, growling at me when I kept trying to bat him away.
“Stop fuckin’ moving.”
“Go fuck yourself. I’m fine. We need to get back. He’s gonna go after the clubhouse, and the girls–”
“Are fine. I moved ‘em when we left. They’re at Allie’s place. Well guarded. Split the guys between there and the clubhouse. Figured Hammer would try shit like last time.” Croy paced away again, his phone pressed to his ear. From what I could tell, he was calling Nevada. We could still hear sirens in the distance, so we were fucking trapped here. Reaper did some fancy first aid shit he learned in the military with a few of the guys who were injured, but otherwise, we didn’t move for hours. Couldn’t risk the guys leaving the clubhouse with Hammer fucking about, and we couldn’t leave the girls unguarded.
Every time I started to fall asleep, Reaper would shove me awake again. It irritated me and I yelled at him plenty, but he ignored me, punching me in the shoulder when I tried to lie down. Asshole.
The sun was coming up by the time we figured out how to get back home. Nevada had to rent a damn van to fit us all, and Reaper wouldn’t move anyone until the doc looked at us. I had a bad concussion from being so damn close to the blast, plus plenty of cuts and bruises. He said it was lucky I didn’t get anything worse. Don’t think it was possible to be more lucky than I was last night. I might need to buy a lottery ticket, because surviving that shit with just a fucking headache was like divine intervention.
They dropped everyone healthy enough off at the clubhouse. A couple had some injuries that the doc wanted images for, so they were brought to the hospital. Reaper wanted me to go, but I refused. It was a damn headache. I would be fine. I wasn’t a fucking pussy.
Surprisingly, the clubhouse was untouched. There were three guys, plus a few prospects, watching over it when we left, and they said nothing happened last night. That didn’t make any fucking sense to me. Why would Hammer go to all that trouble just to wait? He had the perfect opening to take out the remaining crew and take the clubhouse if he wanted it. What was he waiting for?
CHAPTER 35
SAM
I wasn’t really sure what happened last night. Clink went out for something club related, and a few hours later, Croy was demanding we move to Allie’s house. A few guys went with us, but the rest all took off without a word. If Clink was aware of what was going on, he didn’t sound like it. He was texting me, being playful and flirtatious like always, until he said he had to go to work and he’d talk to me later. I kept waiting for him to show up, but he stopped responding to my messages and no one seemed to want to tell me what was going on.
Since there wasn’t a ton of room, Allie’s house was only a two bedroom, I slept on one of the couches. Tyson took the guest room, Allie and Quinn shared the master, and Riley was on the other couch, though she didn’t do much sleeping. She spent most of the night in the kitchen with Nevada, murmuring low with him. I didn’t get a ton of sleep either. I woke up a lot, but I didn’t complain. Whatever was happening, it was big enough to move us. Hopefully, it meant that we weren’t going to be trapped in the clubhouse much longer.
I gave up on getting sleep a little after the sun came up. Nevada was gone, but Riley was still awake, her fingers moving rapidly over her phone as she sat at the kitchen table. When I sat down next to her, she forced a small smile, but she barely looked up at me and her attention immediately went back to her phone.
“Is everything okay?”
She pursed her lips, fighting back a scowl. “I’m trying to find out.”
Nodding, I left her to it. Other than sending out another text to check on Clink, I didn’t know what to do with myself, so I made some coffee instead. The few guys who were here with us all looked grateful when I passed out mugs, and Riley’s smile was a little less tense when I put hers down next to her. I was just taking a sip of my own when Riley let out a heavy sigh.
