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Headlights pouredacross the weatherworn floor of the cabin as the Aces approached the meet point.
Three cars, I counted as their headlights passed over the front window one by one. Heavy vehicles. Trucks and vans like the ones Dies and the others drove in on by the sounds of their tires as they hit deep potholes and drove over sections of puddled road.
Diesel rolled his shoulders back and lengthened his spine, hiding a wince as he passed the cane to Tiny.
“Boss, you heard what the vet said—”
“Get rid of it.”
Without another word of protest, the Saint took two steps to his right and chucked the cane out the shattered back window of the cabin.
Diesel adjusted his footing before taking two steps forward and then three steps back. Testing his ability to appear uninjured.
He did a damn good job of it, but I knew it wouldn’t be without a monstrous amount of effort that his face stayed placid as a lake. I’d done a damn good job of fucking up his Achilles, and if he kept walking on it, it wouldn’t ever heal properly. I was no doctor, but I was pretty sure he’d wind up with a limp for the rest of his life doing that.
Though, I understood his need to appear strong. Especially now.
I caught his gaze flick to me as he returned back to his place, standing elbow to elbow with the rest of us to the far right side of the cabin. This side had the only window other than the one next to the front door and therefore the only side with an alternate means of escape.
Though the other side was more heavily strewn with old discarded furniture that could prove useful as cover if it came to a gunfight.
With Rook and Grey beside me, I felt an odd sense of responsibility for them. Like, if something happened to them it would be at least partially my fault as the person who was at their side. Meant to have their back. Meant to cover them from fire.
From their tension and the way they both inched ever so slightly nearer to my sides as the sounds of heavy thudding footfalls ascended the stairs outside, I knew they felt similarly.
I counted the footsteps.
Eight of them coming inside. Another five? Maybe six waiting outside by the idling vehicles.
We were six in here.
Eleven in total.
Decent odds for normal people.
Fucking amazing odds for us. I knew I could take at least four before they saw me coming. And my guys? They could easily handle the rest, Diesel or no Diesel.
My own certainty surprised me, but I felt it like a truth carved into my bones, and lifted my chin as the Aces entered.
I clocked weapons as they came in. Finding the tactical edges of bulletproof vests poking out from under collars and sleeves. They were ready for this to go south, too.
Nothing bigger than a handgun, though, unless someone had a particularly deep anal cavity.
I searched the faces of the Aces here tonight, trying to decide which one could’ve been Becca’s beau. The man who’d manipulated and conned her. The one who was after my Crows.
Their eyes betrayed nothing.
The man from that night in the yard of the warehouse emerged from the group, putting himself at a slight lead from the others at his back. Diesel did the same.
I recognized him easily enough. He had a distinct look about him. A thin, angular face with coiffed hair that made him appear taller than he was. And suddenly I was back there, knelt down in the shadows of the trees, watching as Lenny Ace and Diesel St. Crow spoke. As the Ace on the end of the row eyed Corvus, his trigger finger twitching.
It was that one thing that sealed my fate. If that other Ace hadn’t tried to kill Corvus… If I hadn’t saved his life.
I might not be here right now.
“Lenny,” Diesel said.
“Diesel. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
