I gestured for him to explain.
Saint shook his head. “Not here. Ride home in the pack. I’ll speak at church.”
A cold shiver passed through me, a world away from the heated shudders Alexei provoked in my nerves. But I had no leverage to argue with him. A crossbow was a silent weapon, it was dark, and we were off the beaten tracks. The chances of being detected here were slim. But the fact remained that we were out in the open with a dead body at our feet and an unknown killer in the wind.
We needed to get out of here, and fast.
“Don’t be long,” I told Saint. “And be safe. We need you, brother.”I need you.
I embraced him—a gesture of affection he didn’t always want—knowing he’d feel the shakiness in my arms and not giving a shit. This life wasn’t about being fearless and superhuman. It was a brotherhood, and I could’ve lost any one of them tonight. I could’ve losthim.
Two guys stayed with Saint to clean up. We called the prospects in with a van to pick up Rubi and his bike. “Take him to my room in the clubhouse. Or the hospital in Truro if he upchucks again.”
“I’m fine, boss.” Rubi grasped my shoulders, his grip strong and steady, gaze clearer now he’d left his lunch in the dirt.
I believed him, but I put the fear of God into the prospects all the same. “Don’t take any chances.”
They left and we set off for home, the mood sombre and tense, a far cry from the buzz we’d roared out with that morning. Despite knowing we were riding into an inevitable fight, we’d hit the tarmac for the goddamn love of it. Brothers. Bikes. The open fucking road. How it had come to a dead stranger at my feet, I had no clue, but we’d find out.
We had to.
It was late when we rolled into the compound. The van was already back. I checked on Rubi, found him dozing off his headache in my bed with Embry watching over him, and retreated to the chapel to collect my thoughts.
I was still shaking, rage replacing the fading adrenaline and fear from the fight. Fucking Crows. The Kings had been scrapping with them since before I was born, but this was some next level shit. Whoever they’d got into bed with were more dangerous than I’d ever imagined, and Saint’s ominous warning returned to me, echoing in my head.“We don’t have the boots on the ground.”
But which fucking ground? The Crows had come at us like the pound-shop operation they’d always been, and somehow bullets had still flown and a man was dead. A man who belonged to someone that would no doubt come looking for him. Would that come down on us or the Crows?
Or both? There were rules in MC wars, lines none of us would cross. But there was a devil playing this game and the fucker kept dancing past me.
A knock at the door roused me from my thoughts. Nash stood in the doorway, a face I hadn’t seen in a while a heartbeat behind him. “Skylar checked on Rubi. Reckons he’ll be fine, but we’ve gotta keep an eye on him overnight, and no riding for a couple of weeks. Wanna show him your ribs while he’s here? You hit Rubi’s knee pretty hard when the gun went off.”
“Don’t say that shit in my vicinity.” Skylar Buchanan stepped around Nash, a pissed-off expression keeping his face darkened by shadows. “You hurt, Cam?”
Not that I’d noticed, but I knew from experience it was quicker to let Nash have his way than to leave him to stew. Or worse, round up Embry to join the fucking chorus. “Just bruised.”
“Show me.”
Skylar was an A&E nurse and friend of the club, though he’d probably have called it something else. He had family ties that haunted him, so I tried not to lean on him too often. But if my brothers needed medical attention? Yeah. This kid had to suck it up as much as the rest of us.
I stripped my shirt and let Skylar prod at me with cool, practiced hands. “How’s my baby brother?”
Skylar shot me a look that let me know he remembered who we all were when the blood washed away.As if he could forget. “He’s fine as far as I know. I haven’t seen him since he serviced my bike a month ago.”
“You don’t keep in touch?”
“Not often. I see him in the Joker sometimes, but I’m not around much, especially when you clowns call me out after an eighteen-hour shift.”
“Sorry.”
“Of course you are.” Skylar’s tone was light. Easy, almost. But I knew this kid. Knew hehatedthe fact that he felt loyalty to an organisation that had tainted his whole fucking life. “Deep breath?”
I obeyed. Skylar listened with a stethoscope, then stood back with a frown.
“I think it’s just some bad bruising, but I keep telling you, and I told them upstairs, I’m not a doctor and I don’t have X-ray vision. If you’re in pain, you should go to the hospital.”
“I’m fine.”
“Right. I’m out of here then. Unless you need to waste my time on anything else.”
