Somewhere, Kooper lost his bike, and now he’s right in front of me, pulling me up by the arm and pushing me back behind him. I don’t know where we’re going, but I’m not about to stop and ask. I go where he’s pushing me and duck when he pulls me down.
“What the hell is going on, Koop?”
He reloads as we hunker behind a tree.
“The Devils Damned VP, Duke, put a hit out on every piece of property the club has.”
I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my life. Not for me, but for my family. “Mama Bear? Princess? Grace?” The idea of anyone getting hurt is like a tsunami of emotions I don’t want crashing into me.
“Fine. Hounds took out the threat before anyone was hit. Everyone is going back to home base to check in. You’re the last one still out.” He fires off two more rounds.
“We can’t stay here.”
He nods at my assessment as we both look behind us to see what cover we have to work with. People are still scattered across the yard in small groups, huddling together, hoping no bullet will find them.
“Where’s your car?”
“Around the building, a block down.”
“It’s too far. If we make it to my bike, we might have a chance to get out of here. I’ll give you cover fire. You start her up, and I’ll be right behind you.”
Back the fuck up. I must have missed something. No way in hell did Kooper just tell me to drive his bike. Do I know how to ride? Of course. Despite my dad’s protests, Mom made sure I knew how to handle anything between my legs—another thing Dad hated hearing. But she and I both knew I was only interested in learning about the motorcycle and not a man’s third leg.
“Stop gawking at me and get moving. On the count of three, run your ass off, and don’t make me regret it. The keys are still in her. One, two—”
I start running before he saysthree, and he starts shooting. I see his bike—big, black, and the sweetest thingI’ve ever seen in my life right now. I chance a glance back and miss a step, going down with a twist of the ankle.
I let out a small cry like a stupid girl, cursing to myself as I look down and see I tripped over a damn sprinkler that popped up. A dozen others around us start going off at the same time.
I look at Kooper and see he’s still pinned behind the tree, but thankfully, he isn’t paying attention to me. I don’t think my ego can take him laughing at me falling on my ass after we get out of this.
I move to stand, but I can tell my ankle won’t take my weight. I don’t think it’s broken, but I’m going to need some ice on it. So I do the next best thing: I crawl to the bike.
“Ruby, get your ass up!” Kooper yells at me, and there goes my pride.
“Ankle,” I shout over my shoulder and continue to crawl. I’m close. Just a few more feet and I can get on the bike. I know once I get there I can get it started. I will break my damn leg if I have to for us to get out of this.
A bullet hits the dirt right in front of me, and I halt my progress as I look back and see Kooper watching me. His eyes narrow, and I shake my head. I already know he’s going to play hero, and I so don’t need his death on my conscience.
As he stands, I scream, “No!” But he doesn’t listen. He fires twice across the yard and then races to me. He grabs me by the waist and runs us both to his bike. Another shot rings out, and we both go flying, me from being dropped by Kooper and him from getting shot in the back.
I can barely brace before my head hits the tail of his bike, and then I land on the ground. My ears ring and myvision blurs as I lie there. My head hurts like a fucking bull ran a horn through it. I touch it, wincing, and pull my hand back. I see multiple sets of fingers, but that doesn’t concern me as much as the blood running down my hand.
Pushing up, I look over and see Kooper fighting with someone. I think it’s the guy who was firing at him, or maybe someone else. I don’t know. Kooper’s getting his ass beat from what I can see. Or at least the three versions I see are. I close my eyes tight and shake my head to line myself up, but it’s a bigger mistake than when I decided that orange looks good on me.
I turn to the side and puke up everything I ate before coming out tonight. It doesn’t clear my vision, but it’s all I can do to hold myself upright and not fall into it. I feel dizzy and think the ground is spinning. Maybe the earth started spinning at a crazy speed and I’m feeling it, or I just have one helluva concussion.
“Come on, Ruby girl, we’ve got to go,” I hear Kooper say. Then his hands are pulling me up, and I almost crumple on him. “Easy. I got you.” He helps me onto his bike with one arm and then holds me up a bit before getting on himself. “Just hang on.”
I squeeze my arms tight around him and hear him grunt in pain before he adjusts his arm. Then the engine purrs between our legs, and we are out of here. I close my eyes and just pray that I don’t get sick again. Throwing up doesn’t freak out a biker. Doing it on his bike? It’s a good way to never get invited back again. Unless it’s your dad’s bike and you got sick because you ate too much cake on your eighth birthday and begged him to take you out on his bike as a gift. When that’s the case, you get an ice cream for crying about it, but you stillhave to wash the bike the next day. Dad was nothing but fair, even if he did it with a smile and a sweet treat.
I must have dozed off somewhere between leaving campus and landing here, wherever here is.
“Going to need you to hold still while I get off the bike, and then I’ll get you.”
I nod at his words and fall forward when he eases off, but he steadies me with his hands as I go to grab the seat he just vacated.
“Easy.”
