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Grabbing Zoe’s hand, I pull her to me as I look around, not a living Reaper in sight. Faint sirens sound in the distance which must be what scared them away.
The fire is out of control, and part of the roof over the bar has already caved in. Tex is right, we have to get out before we get trapped.
“Where’s Rocco?” I bellow, and we all freeze, eyes darting between each other in question.
A cough sounds, and something moves off to the side before Rocco’s head appears from under a pile of debris.
“I’m here.” He coughs again, and I fucking swear, I almost cry.
I need a moment, my emotions charging through me like a fucking freight train, and Zoe must notice because she’s the one that starts barking orders.
“Get him out of here. Quickly!” She orders, and Munroe hurries forward to help our Prez limp out the entrance.
“Thank you,” I whisper, and she squeezes my hand, tugging me toward the entrance too.
The street looks like a war zone. The explosion I heard while talking with Rocco must have come from out here, because the place where our bikes were lined up, is a billowing inferno.
Crying, sobs draw my attention, and I realize that we were lucky to get out alive, because out here, some of us didn’t.
“Alana! Zoe!” Rose’s cry is piercing, and I hardly have a second to see her coming before she slams into Zoe, her arms wrapping around my girl as they embrace each other, and Tex eases Alana onto her feet where she wavers for a moment, but then joins their hug.
“What’s the toll?” Rocco calls, to whom I’m not sure, but Titch appears, looking a little battered, but ready to serve his Prez.
“Uh, three… we think.”
“You think?” Rocco hisses and Titch shuffles nervously on the spot.
“Uh-yeah. Ummm, the explosion.” He juts his thumb over his shoulder in the general direction of the inferno. “There’s a body in there. We can’t tell if it’s one of us or them.”
Fuck. This is bad.
“Who can we confirm?” I ask, and Titch swallows like there’s a huge fucking lump stuck in his throat.
“Sasha.” Alana chokes out before her and Zoe cry out in devastation.
“You saw her? Dead?” I ask, trying not to sound insensitive, and they both nod before Zoe’s heartbroken eyes lock with mine.
“W-we s-saw t-them k-kill h-her.”
Her words create a tidal wave of cries that ripple through the women at hearing this, and fuck, it’s hard for any of us to hear.
“And?” I ask, making myself turn my attention back to Titch, who is also so consumed with grief that he can’t seem to form anymore words. Stretch steps forward, clapping our prospect on the shoulder and speaks for him.
“It’s one of the twins.” He offers quietly, and I stiffen, standing tall with worry.
“Which fucking twin?” I hiss, but it doesn’t matter. Either one is fucking heartbreaking.
“Slayer.” Stretch offers as his voice cracks with emotion, too, and Zoe’s cries turn guttural.
Fuck.
No.
No.
No.
I spin, giving them my back as I look up to the fucking sky.
