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Shit. Kara talking to War like that wouldn’t go down well. I glanced up at him. “She’s not—”
“She’s not wrong,” he interrupted, his voice weary. He sank down onto a couch and stared blankly at the wall above my head, his mind clearly ticking over everything Kara had said.
Silence fell over the rest of us, waiting for War to say something.
He slammed his fist down on the coffee table. “Fuck!”
There was a finality in his curse. A realization of pieces clicking together and unanswered questions coming full circle.
It was so loud, even Fang jumped. “What do you want to do, boss?”
War laughed bitterly. “Rewind the clock and kill Caleb back when I thought he was just a pussy who got off on controlling his fiancée. Or maybe go to my father and ask him why the hell he got us involved in something we swore we’d never touch.” His head tipped back, and he stared at the ceiling. “You greedy fucking prick. You did it, didn’t you? You didn’t even bring it to us, so we could decide as a club if we were going to get involved. Because you know what I would have said. You cowardly fucking bastard.”
A hush fell over the room. War never spoke about his father like that. No one did. Army, as a prez who had been killed, was an honored figure. No bad would have dared slip from a single member’s tongue.
It was another one of their rules.
Respect of brothers who had gone out protecting the club.
War had just blown it to smithereens. “The women held at the Sinners’ compound. How many were there?” he asked Kara solemnly.
“Four,” she said quietly. “Winnie, Georgia, Nova, and Vivienne. That’s their names. They had families and friends and jobs. Lives.” Her tone turned bitter. “Now they’re probably dead and rotting in that house.”
War pushed to his feet. “Or the Sinners are still holding them, waiting for Caleb to make his next move.”
A glimmer of hope lit up Kara’s eyes. “You didn’t go in and kill them after we left in the ambulance?”
Fang shook his head. “There were shots fired, on both sides. But a group of us went after the ambulance.”
Hawk spoke up from his corner. “Those of us left behind were outnumbered. We had to fall back when the Sinners brought out semi-automatics.”
Nausea roiled in my stomach at the thought of Fang out there in the darkness, being shot at by a rival gang. I knew this was his life and there was no other for him. But knowing the danger he put himself in was terrifying. I reached for him, taking his hand in mine, reminding myself he was still here.
Still mine.
Kara glanced between Hawk, with his eyes black from her double whammy nose breaks, to Fang who sat quietly like he always did, calmly stating the facts and holding my hand. “So there’s a chance they’re still alive?”
Hawk shrugged. “I’d say a pretty good one.”
War pushed to his feet.
At some sort of silent signal from his boss, Fang squeezed my hand and leaned over and kissed my cheek. “Gotta go, Pix.”
I still had the images of men with semi-automatic weapons aimed at him, burning through my brain. I grasped his hand. “Where are you going?”
War looked over at Kara. “I’m not too big a man to admit when I’ve made a mistake. And this, if everything you say is true, is a colossal fuckup. But I promise you, Kara. Either way, I’m not my father. If they’re alive, I’ll bring them home.”
4
KIAN
Hawk and War bickered in much the same way Vaughn and I did, their longtime friendship showing through when Hawk tried to insist on riding with War over to the Sinners’ clubhouse. War took one look at his banged-up bestie and told him to sit his ass down.
Hawk was still complaining about War pulling rank on him when War and Fang left to go stake out the Sinners’s compound for any sign of the women they held captive.
“Fucking idiots,” Hawk mumbled from beneath his probably now warm bag of peas. “We should all be on the road with them.”
But Fang and War’s plan seemed sensible to me. Two men in an unmarked vehicle drew a lot less attention than a dozen men on deafening Harleys. All they needed to do was find out if the women were still alive. An extraction would come later.
