I’m not sure how long we sleep before I wake up. My phone begins buzzing from the nightstand, and I sigh, reaching for it. Storm’s name appears on the screen.
I swipe across and answer. “Pres.”
“We’ve got company.”
Fuck.I tighten my arm around Letty. “I’ll be right there.”
Storm hangs up without another word.
“Is everything okay?” Letty’s voice sounds groggy.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “Will you stay here and wait for me?”
I won’t take her out of this room when I don’t know what’s going to happen or who Storm let into the clubhouse. Maybe I’m overreacting, but he didn’t sound right on the phone. My gut is telling me something is off.
I have no idea who’s arrived, but I know I’ll protect Letty with my life. Storm knows I’m with Letty, which means there’s a threat to her. He would never interrupt otherwise.
“Okay.”
She sounds worried.
“Hey.” I kiss her, soothing any concern. “Wait here. Lock the door. No one comes inside unless it’s my cousin, Bullseye, or me. Okay?”
Her eyes widen. “Okay.”
“I’ve got a gun in the top drawer. It’s loaded.” I show her the safety and how to point and shoot. I’ve got to hurry, or Storm will call back.
“I’m scared,” she whispers.
I tug her into my body, squeeze her, and then let go. “I’ll be back soon. Trust me.”
“I do.”
I’ll come back for her. I assure myself that everything will be fine as I quickly dress. She’s going to be safe in my room.
But there won’t be any mercy for anyone who tries to harm or take her from me.
Chapter 8 Gage
It’s too fucking quiet. I notice as soon as I leave my room. Palming my gun, I try to assure myself since I left my other weapon with Letty. She’s smart. I know if her life is on the line, she’ll use it.
But I’m hoping it won’t come to that.
The skin on the back of my neck is prickling with awareness, and my gut is telling me that shit is fucked up right now. I move with methodical, slow steps, staying alert. The barrel points ahead of me, and I hold it steady, already aware that I’ll have to use it before I ever pull back on the trigger.
Instinct takes over. This isn’t the first time I’ve had to defend myself against a lethal attack or raise arms to protect my brothers. I’ve fought the Crimson Heretics, a rival club, more times than I can count. It’s also not the first time I’ll choose my life over some asshole who’s looking to prove a point or thinks he’s got the bigger dick. I’m gonna win every time.
When I round the corner, I survey the bar. It’s nearly empty. A few people are crouched. It’s two of the club girls, a hanger-on, and a wounded prospect. Ryker presses his hand against his abdomen as I scan the perimeter and rush to his side.
“You okay?” I ask, crouching low, and wondering how bad he’s hit.
Why the fuck is it so goddamn quiet?
“It’s not bad,” he lies as he groans. “Storm is hit. Not sure who else.”
Storm? What the fuck?
“Tell me where the Crimson Heretics took him.”
