“I’m going as fast as I can,” Jester said, giving me a hard glance. “Sit th-the fuck back. Now. You’ll end up going through the fucking windshield if I brake too hard.”
I snorted, the panic flooding my veins and setting them alight. “Wouldn’t be the first time I had road rash and nearly died.”
“You think PD would want to go through that again?” Jester asked, and the words were a baseball bat to the gut.
I exhaled harshly and sat back against the seat. Dragging the seat belt around me and buckling up, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
“I’m worried about him.” It hurt to admit it. The Kings were a tough bunch, and I hated being weak in front of them. “I can’t lose him.”
“Uhlig won’t hurt him.” Jester glanced in the rearview mirror. The wordstoo muchwere left unsaid. Uhlig and the Kings had an unofficial agreement to stay out of each other’sway, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t rough up PD for being near this heist.
“He’s angry at me.” I balled my fist up against the seat and gritted my teeth. “I fucked up. I always fuck up. He left the house. I shouldn’t have been such a fucking prick.”
“Bullshit,” Barber threw over his shoulder. “That dude loves you. He’s been at your side for a long fucking time. Four years. He never left you when you were in the ICU. Not once. By the time you came out, he smelled ripe. First time I’ve ever gagged around a man who wasn’t naked.” He waggled his eyebrows at me when I rolled my eyes. “He might need a breather occasionally, but we all do. Quain recently bought a new dart board and throws knives at it when he’s pissed at me.”
“He’s imagining it’s your face,” Jester said.
Barber laughed. “You’re probably right. But we’re stronger together. No matter how much I equally piss him off and make him smile. It’s all part of being in a relationship.”
“Careful, that almost sounds reasonable,” I muttered, and it only made Barber laugh harder.
“I call it the Quain Effect, man.”
I rubbed my stomach as the anxiety twisted deeper and focused on the road through the windshield. The buildings of the city began to disappear, leading us into the outer suburbs and, finally, into the industrial estates until there were barely any structures around. I’d been to Uhlig’s warehouse a few times and it wasn’t the most pleasant spot. He had a bunch of these properties and used them to torture people, whether it be personally or through cruel games rich people could bet on, including underground fighting.
The warehouse we approached was made of brick and two stories high. The outside was ominous, almost like it’d been abandoned, with a steel fence around it that buzzed so loud as we passed that I could tell it was electrified. Weeds lined thebuilding. At least twenty of our brothers were waiting beside their bikes.
The moment King saw us coming, he raised his hand in a half wave.
I swallowed around a mixture of anger and fear for PD as we pulled to a stop, then shoved open the door. I rushed to get out, ignoring the sharp ache from my ribs and back with the movement, then stalked over to King.
“Where is he? If they hurt him, I’ll fucking kill them.”
King held up his palm, face stern. The grays in his hair were more prominent than ever, but he’d been stressed as hell over the last few years. “Stop. Uhlig promised PD wasn’t permanently damaged.”
“But he hurt him.” I shot a glare toward the brown steel doors of the warehouse. “I’m gonna fucking kill them all.”
“Rook, enough.”
I froze at my road name. It’d been a long time since he’d called me that. I gnashed my teeth as I took a step back, and he sighed.
“We need to play this calm. You’re pissed, but you know what Uhlig is like. He doesn’t mess around. If we go in there guns blazing, he’s gonna hurt PD worse.” King stepped forward to lay a hand on my shoulder and leaned in closer. “Keep your cool. This is all bullshitting, not fists.”
I clenched my hands at my sides. “Fine.”
King gave me a short, direct nod and glanced toward Undertaker, who was pressing a gloved finger against a knife’s blade, testing the sharpness. Undertaker raised his eyebrows at King, who sighed.
“All right, put it away, Tim. This is a friendly chat.”
Undertaker smirked but flipped the knife closed before shoving it into one of his big black riding boots. “Just in case.”
King rolled his eyes and gestured for all of us to follow him. We headed toward the steel doors. King rapped his fist on the door twice and it opened, revealing a familiar man. He had a thick, well-groomed beard and dark brown hair, which was longer on the top and shaved at the sides. A cigar hung loosely between his lips as he gazed out at us, mouth curling to the side as he opened the door wider, revealing a black suit that must’ve cost a mint.
“King. We’ve been waiting. Come in.” The man turned on polished black shoes and strolled inside.
“Hey, would you look at that, Will? It’s your doppelganger.” Barber snorted in laughter.
I frowned at him. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
