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“Knew we couldn’t keep you down,” Swift states, slapping his president on the back.
“Glad you’re good, Alpha,” Hurricane states. “Now, let’s gather our dead and injured and make our way back to the clubhouse. We have some mournin’ and some celebratin’ to do.”
Everyone cheers as Houston helps Wraith to his feet.
This war wasn’t without casualties, and we may have won.
But even though we carried out our duty to the Baroness…
… I am sure thereal waris only just beginning.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Ingrid
My heart beats hard and fast as I pace the clubhouse.
The anticipation of not knowing what’s happening in this war is fucking terrifying.
I make my way to the bar where Novah and Izzy are sitting, and they look at me somberly.
“Ingrid, you need to sit down. You’re wearing a hole in the concrete,” Izzy states.
“Yeah, Mom, come have a drink. It’ll take the edge off,” Novah states, and I snap my head around to her.
“You shouldn’t be drinking,” I scold her.
She chuckles. “It’s apple juice, Mom. Chill. The guys have got this. Houston is with them. They have the backup and a fire up their asses. I have no doubts. You shouldn’t either.”
“You have people you love out there fighting. They might not come home, Novah. That’s a veryrealpossibility. You need to take thismoreseriously,” I tell her and tap the bar for a drink.
Jaz dips her head, sliding a bourbon my way. I throw it back in one fell swoop, then slam the glass back on the bar.
“Damn, Mom, are you worried about Hurricane and Bayou, or is this about South?”
I turn to look at my daughter, who sees right through me. “I’m worried about all three of them and our boys too. Anton and his men are ruthless bastards, and theywillbe waiting for them.”
Novah finally begins to look concerned. “You really think Anton will know they’re coming?”
I let out an exhale, rolling my shoulders. “Maybe not at this exact time, but they will be prepared. They hit us, so they know a return fire is imminent. I just hope the guys are ready for whatever the Bratva have to throw at them.”
That’s when I hear the roar of Harleys in the distance.
We all turn at the noise, and I can’t wait for a second. I race out of the clubhouse to see the men riding in—NOLA, Houston, and surprisingly, LA Defiance too.
I raise my brow.
I had no idea LA was coming to help.
A couple of vans pull in behind them, and I know I should wait for them to come inside before I make my way to them, but I can’t.
I’m too anxious.
My problem is, I don’t know who to go to first.
My eyes dart around, trying to find everyone. I spot Hurricane and Bayou, and they seem okay—covered in blood, but okay.
So my eyes search for South—he’s sliding off his bike, and he is limping.
