He shakes his head. “Not the Heretics.”
I’m confused. Who else would dare to attack the Grid Iron?Fuck.Ryker looks pale. I think he’s losing too much blood. “Who?” I growl.
“Your father.”
I swear my body stills and my blood runs cold as I process his words. My father. How the fuck did I miss this? “You fucking kidding me? How? Who’s with him?”
“Don’t know. Never saw the fuckers before.” Ryker’s eyes flutter, and he fucking passes out.
I turn to the club girls. “Come over here and put pressure on his wound. Call 9-1-1.”
They both stare at me. Yeah, calling this in will bring heat on the club. I know this, but I can’t let Ryker die either. If multiple members are wounded, we need help.
We’ll figure out how to spin the truth once Storm and the rest of the club are stable. I’ve got no love for the law, but I can admit when we’re in over our heads. Besides, if I can pin this shit on Mifflin, then he’ll go to prison for this.
And maybe I can find a way to get my revenge.
The girls aren’t moving.
“Do it,” I snarl.
The redhead, Ruby, nods. She moves toward Ryker and presses on his stomach, helping slow the blood loss. The other one, a blonde, dials emergency services.
I don’t stick around; I move fast and stay low. I’ve got no idea where anyone is and why I never heard any gunshots. Was I that fucking distracted? The truth? Yeah.
Being buried in Letty’s pussy was fucking heaven and pulled me from my surroundings. I didn’t hear shit, probably because I slept deeply with her wrapped around me.
I exit the bar and turn down the hall that leads to Storm’s office. The door is open. It’s unusual. He keeps it closed so hecan relax and not deal with bullshit. I’ve heard him say it more than once.
My body tenses, alert, and I know what I find in Storm’s office will piss me off. I force myself to breathe and remain calm. I keep my hands steady as I move toward the doorway. Somehow, I know Storm is in there, and he’s not alone. I’ve got to be smart about this.
There’s no point in avoiding the inevitable. I know Mifflin won’t kill me. He’s a vindictive bastard. He’ll want retribution first. Bloodshed. Pain. I know because that’s also how I deal with my enemies.
Somewhere in the last two years, he’s become one of them.
It still surprises me that the infamous Blade brothers don’t get involved in family matters. They keep to their own slice of the collective pie, which means I can’t go to any of my uncles for help. But this changes everything.
Bear, our VP, will be out for blood. Mifflin is his fucking brother. This is a betrayal the club won’t stand for either.
It’s fucked up. My uncle Bear is a brute. He enforces club law and doesn’t give a shit that Bullseye and I are family. We get the same treatment as any of the brothers in the club. We fuck up, and we’re held accountable. Bullseye and I accepted it when we patched in.
Mifflin just made a colossal mistake. He’ll find that out soon enough.
I move to the doorway and stand in front of it, keeping watch both inside and outside the room. “Hello, Mifflin.”
He’s aiming a gun at Storm’s head. Blood soaks into the white shirt my pres is wearing. He’s got a wound in his right shoulder. There’s another on his left thigh. Crimson stains the denim. He’s a little pale, but his gaze stays focused on Mifflin. His palm rests on his thigh, and I can see he’s pressing on his wound.
Why am I the only club member here? Where’s Smoke and Bear? There’s no way my father orchestrated this shit on his own. If Storm wasn’t injured, he’d already have Mifflin on the ground with a bullet in his brain.
“Good of you to join us, son.”
I won’t trade words with him and fluff his ego. “What do you want?”
“It’s too late for that. The Vipers have fucked with my shipments for the last time.”
Shipments? I don’t know what the fuck he’s talking about. My gaze shifts to Storm. He blinks.
“I already told him he’s got shit wrong,” Storm grunts.
