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I shook my head, reaching for my...shit.My gun wasn’t there. I had left it in the saddlebags on my motorcycle, fully intending forjusta fistfight with the ex-boyfriend Hannah was entertaining. However, that was clearly abadidea.
“We need to get in the café,” I instructed, motioning toward the door, which was only about twenty feet away.
“There’s innocent people in there.”
“So they probably won’t keep shooting if we get in there.” I couldn’t see any other way to get out of the line of fire.
“Or theywill, and we’ll be in massive shit.”
The sound of more bullets and shattering glass filled the quiet street, the windshield of the car busting into a million pieces as we stayed crouched down. Whoever was trying to hit us—me, wasn’t letting up.
“Get in the café,” I demanded, shoving Gunner toward the door as a bullet whizzed only a foot from my shoulder.
He shook his head in protest. “No way.”
“Do as I say,prospect,” I barked at him, and he finally obeyed, taking off toward the door.
And just like I thought, not one shot was fired.
They’re here for me.
I ran my hands down my dark jeans, eyeing the area around me as the air went quiet around me, the only noise being the chime of the café’s welcome bell. There wasnoway that I would be heading behind Gunner into the restaurant. I was going to have to just...leave.
And hopefully get to my pistol before they got to me.
My gaze shifted to my motorcycle, which wasn’t that far. I peered around the old Monte Carlo I was hiding behind, seeing a black Dodge Charger sitting on the other side of the street. The window was rolled down slightly, the barrel of a gun pointed out of it.
Who is that?
I didn’t recognize anything about the vehicle—not that it meant anything at all. It could easily be rented by the Silent Kings... or Charlie Hughes. Was he mad that I missed the drop? I had been so wrapped up with Hannah that I hadn’t been thinking clearly about anything going on with the club world.
This is why women are bad.
Taking a deep breath, I dug my bike key out of my black leather vest pocket. There was no way that I was going to be able to get the bike started and get out of there before they fired more shots.
Maybe they’ll just miss.
That was some risk to take. I swallowed hard, peering around the car one more time. A blast filled the air around me—but I had no idea where the bullet went...
Oh fuck.
Pain exploded in my arm, searing up and into my shoulder. I slumped toward the car, resting my head on the front bumper as my knees went from a crouching position to hitting the concrete pavement. Tires squealed against the asphalt, and I was barely able to lift my head as the Charger took off, the smell of burning rubber filling the air.
I need to chase them.
But I couldn’t move as the blood ran down my arm, soaking my jeans. I’d been shot before, butthismust’ve hit a nerve, because my fingers were starting to go numb. I fought the pins and needles, my free hand covering the wound and trying to stop the bleeding.
“Holy shit!” Gunner’s voice erupted from the distance as the sound of sirens filled the distance.
“You gotta get me out of here, man,” I groaned, already thinking that the police presence wasnotwhat we needed. “Strip out of your vest and get mine.”
“Everyone inside is already going to know that it’s us.” Gunner tugged his vest off, shoving it under his arm as he came for me.
“Nah, Francis knows what to say,” I choked out, thinking of the owners of the café. “I don’t think she’ll spill.”
“There’s only a handful of people in there, anyway.” He worked my vest off, my wound spewing everywhere as he tugged it down my arm. “Jesus, Viper. It looks bad. It might be an artery or something.”
“Okay, great. Get me the fuck out of here, Gunner.” I could hardly see straight as I stood to my feet, handing him my bike key. “Now.”
