I was sure that more civilized people, who led boring lives and didn’t enjoy the rushes of life like the Black Reapers MC did, would say that it was proper to apologize and admit a mistake or something like this early. It was the “appropriate thing to do,” they would say. It would show how “mature” they were.
That was great.
Not getting the shit beaten out of me by my sergeant-at-arms was also great.
Not dividing the club up precisely at a time when we needed to go through whatever remained of our initiation, recruit more prospects, and just generally get stronger in the face of the Bandits was really fucking great.
So no, I didn’t really give a fuck what morality dictated was best here. I was going to keep my mouth shut and, when the time came, face off against Mason.
And speaking fucking of, none other than the vengeful, blood-thirsty brother appeared from inside the garage, but this time, he wasn’t pacing. He was leaving.
“Where you going?” I shouted with a hint of false bravado, as if playing along with the idea that we would go back to Buckhead Saloon to kick Jason’s ass again.
“To give my sister one chance to make it so I don’t go to jail today,” he said, never once looking at me as he hopped on his bike and drove off.
Now there definitely wasn’t a reason to tell the truth. If Hannah herself would do everything she could to keep this a secret, then I was more than happy to play my part.
“This is going to blow up so fucking terribly,” Steele said. “You are going to get your ass handed to you.”
He laughed at the end. When I scowled at him, his laughter only intensified.
“I’m sorry, you think this is funny?”
“Yes,” Steele said. “We’ve told you what we think is best now for…oh, what, four months? I think even the drunkest and horniest of men would have been able to avoid Hannah that night. But hey, you dug your grave, I’m not about to let it go to waste.”
“So supportive.”
“No one’s going to die,” he said.
In the distant sound, I thought I heard motorcycles. But then it faded, and I figured my mind was going a little crazy.
“You say that with confidence that belies what you said right before it, asshole.”
“We’ll make sure Mason doesn’t kill you,” Steele said. “But that’s about all that we can promise.”
“How lovely.”
Steele snorted and headed back inside. I pulled out my phone to see if Hannah had said anything to me, but she hadn’t. The last time we’d texted was two days ago, when I’d gone over to her place and had some more great sex. I hadn’t thought anything of her not communicating yesterday, since we weren’t even a couple, let alone a couple that texted like teenagers, but now, knowing that it was because she was working up the courage to confess to Mason…
I headed back into the shop. With both garage bays filled, we shut the doors and went to work. Inside, Brock and Steele worked on a nearby Toyota, while one of the prospects, a guy whose name I’d never bothered to learn, shadowed. I saw a Jeep that needed some oil change, so I headed over there.
And that was when the sound of motorcycles got louder.
“Did you plan anything today, Brock?” I said, having to raise my voice over the country music planning.
“No, why…” he said, his voice trailing off as he heard it too.Bandits.“Shit! Get weapons and take cover!”
He grabbed a couple of rifles from a cabinet in the garage but only had time to pass them off to Steele and the prospect before we all had to take cover from the incoming bullets.
They don’t attack in the morning often. They’re getting bolder.
Or they’re getting reinforcements.
With the garage doors closed and the cars in front of us, we had plenty of protection. But now would have been a really fucking good time to have Mason there, who could position himself to take some shots. Right now, we were—
BOOM!
My hearing went mute as an explosion rocked the front of the garage. Smoke filled the air. I took a second to peer around and saw a hole had been blown open, as well as the black explosive residue on the ground.
