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Not long after the San Gregorio turnoff, we are going around a big bend in the highway when I realize, too fucking late, that we’ve run into a Reapers roadblock.
Rocco and I break suddenly, veering off to the side as the van speeds past us, the doors getting thrown open as Munroe and Doug leap from it and roll with a thud as they hit the pavement hard.
The squeal of Gunner’s, Slasher’s, and Slayer’s tires come up behind us right before Munroe and Doug leap up and start bolting back toward us.
“What the fuck?” I hear Gunner say in confusion as I grin at the Reapers’ expressions, seeing their mouths form an “oh fuck” when they realize they have just been played.
“Get down!” Munroe roars as the van charges toward the Reapers roadblock where most of them can’t get away fast enough and are engulfed in a large explosion as the van hits the first bike, the fertilizer bomb doing the rest.
The force and heat from the explosion hit us in seconds, and Rocco’s sadistic fucking laugh is all I can hear before he bellows.
“Take that motherfuckers!”
“What the hell just happened?” Slasher asks rolling up next to us and I can’t fucking wipe the grin off my face. It feels good to kill some Reapers.
“Heads up!” Doug calls as a frazzled Reaper stumbles from the bushes nearby, gun raised.
Some Reapers managed to escape the impact of our car bomb, and we swing into action, taking aim and shooting at every fucking Reaper that moves from the carnage just up the road.
It’s all over in less than a minute with most being barbecued in the first place.
“Can someone explain what the fuck just happened?” Slayer asks, and I share a look with Rocco.
“Later.” Rocco barks. “We need to disappear before the cops arrive. Doug,” Rocco directs his next words to our in-house bomb maker. “You wanna be my bitch?”
A huge fucking smile spreads across Doug’s butt ugly face, and he nods, looking way too fucking excited about the invitation to ride on the back of Rocco’s bike.
“Whose bitch will I be?” Munroe looks a little disappointed that he didn’t get the invite from our Prez, but Slayer sighs and dismounts his bike.
“You’re too fucking big to be someone’s bitch. You can take my ride, but if you fucking scratch it, I’ll be introducing you to Betty.”
Munroe’s eyes go round at the mention of Slayer’s blade, but when Slayer hops on the back of his twin’s bike, Munroe doesn’t waste any time getting on the borrowed bike.
The glares I get from Gunner as we ride fucking irk me. He’s obviously pissed about not being in the loop about our plan here today, but Rocco was adamant that only those who were directly involved needed to know. Which was Munroe as the driver of the van, and Doug as the bomb builder.
We don’t stop until we are back behind the gates of our clubhouse, where Rocco barks the word “church,” before Gunner can start at him for information where people can overhear.
All eyes turn to us as Rocco throws open the clubhouse doors, and he strides through the open plan room, heading straight for our sacred place.
My eyes latch onto Zoe’s, her gaze turning to concern as she takes me in, but I shoot her a wink to reassure her, and I fucking think she blushes.
I bite back my smirk in response, loving laying eyes on her again and knowing I am slowly breaking her walls down.
As soon as the doors close behind us inside our meeting room, Gunner starts up.
“Someone better start fucking talking. Some of you obviously knew what was going to happen today, while the rest of us were put in extra danger because of it.”
“Sit down,” Rocco says gruffly, and Gunner glares at our Prez, walking a very thin fucking line with his hissy fit.
All eyes fall to our Prez, waiting as he pours himself a whiskey even though it’s only mid-fucking-morning. He never used to do shit like that. I can only assume it has something to do with having to send the love of his life away.
“You three,” Rocco points before taking a gulp of the amber liquid in his glass, not even cringing from the burn. “You were put up the back for a reason. And that was to keep you safe.”
“Nah. Fuck that.” Gunner shakes his head. “We should have been told there was a bomb in the van.”
“You were the backup. You didn’t need to know about the van. Munroe knew because he drove the fucking bomb on wheels, and Doug knew because he built the fucking thing.”
“And Grayson? Why did he have to know?”
