I’m already moving. Sprinting for my bike while Ghost is still talking.
Now I’m tearing through traffic, throttle pinned, wind lashing my face. My brothers are behind me. Mercenary is in the truck, two prospects are on bikes. The rest are staging at the clubhouse, ready in case this explodes into open war.
My head’s a roar of angles and contingencies.
Flores realized his loose end didn’t stay buried. So he sent men to collect her. Quiet suits. Polished shoes. The kind that don’t get their hands dirty unless they have to.
Three of them.
Cowards.
But this is just the first wave. Men like Flores don’t stop. They keep sending pieces until the problem disappears.
Not happening.
Not to her.
I round the corner onto Main just in time to see Viper’s black SUV tearing down the street, a dark sedan glued to its bumper. Muzzle flashes flare. Gunfire cracks. Bullets spiderweb the back window of Viper’s truck.
Rage hits me like fuel.
“Drop back,” I bark into the mic. “Merc, block them. Prospects, hit the passenger side.”
“Copy,” Mercenary replies.
Viper brakes just enough for me to slide between him and the sedan. The driver panics, clips my bike, thinks he’s got me.
He doesn’t.
I brace, use the impact, whip the back end around, and launch myself straight through the driver-side window.
Glass explodes.
The driver barely has time to register me before I drag him out by the collar and drop him with one punch. He hits the pavement and doesn’t get back up.
Mercenary’s truck skids sideways, blocking the street. The prospects yank the passenger out. He reaches for a weapon.
Ghost appears out of nowhere.
A boot comes down on the man’s wrist.
Bone cracks.
“You pull a gun on my woman,” I say, calm and cold as I level my pistol, “you don’t walk away with that hand.”
The man screams.
Sirens rise in the distance. Good. Sheriff Ramsey hates corrupt judges almost as much as I do.
Viper throws open the SUV’s back door.
Sage falls into my arms.
She’s shaking. Covered in flour and sugar, like she barely escaped a war disguised as a bake sale. Her green eyes are wide, terrified, and then they lock onto mine.
Relief crashes through her so hard it almost drops me.
I pull her tight, one hand cradling the back of her head, pressing her face into my neck.
