Jayce rolled his eyes and left the screen, leaving River by himself. River crinkled his nose in thought, then sighed. “Should I be ready to bail you out of jail?”
“Us?” King gasped dramatically. “Never.”
Dallas rose and joined us on our side of the table. He waved at the phone screen. “I’ll take care of them, River. Don’t worry.”
“Please do.” River’s eyes darted to somewhere off camera and his mouth dropped open. He flushed, red bleeding into his cheeks and down his neck. “I, uh, have to go. Call if you need me.”
I snickered. By the expression on his face, someone with a British accent was going to get laid.
“Thanks, River. Tell Jayce thanks, too.” PD ended the call and dropped his phone on the table. “So, now we know who they are.”
“The question is, will we need to bring in the rest of the club?” King hummed thoughtfully.
My abs clenched at the thought of doing this with only the four of us. PD was still hurting from Uhlig, and the last thing I could handle was him injuring himself further. Granted, whatwe did was dangerous and we’d accepted that a long time ago. But this was different.
My muscles went rigid and pain screamed across my ribs. I winced, rubbing under my pec, and PD noticed immediately.
He pursed his lips and curled an arm around my waist, resting his forehead against my temple. He breathed me in, and I let him, taking comfort in his weight pressed against me. The rich scent of leather flooded my senses, taking away the stench of beer and tobacco surrounding the bar.
“We all good?” King asked gruffly, but with a softness that showed he was concerned.
“Can we have a minute? I’ll take him outside. It’s loud in here.” PD didn’t ask me, and I was grateful when he slid his hand in mine and led me out the front door.
We strode around to the side of the bar, and he laid his palms on my cheeks as he pushed my back against the wall. “You okay?”
“Whatever we do, I need you safe,” I grunted out, my brain brimming with thoughts I couldn’t quite put into speech. The overwhelming surge of anger filled my chest until my hands coiled into fists as Uhlig’s face flashed in my mind. “That fucker doesn’t deserve his money back.”
PD listened, waited, and then finally, he smiled. The shadows cast darkness across his face, and I couldn’t see the bruises as well here. I was both annoyed and grateful.
“No, he doesn’t, but this is the game we play, Will. The club could use that money, and we could, too. Imagine what we’d do with the cash. You could start your own business. Quain is only the beginning. We can open a gallery for you. A shop where you can paint canvases or paint bikes the way we used to. Don’t you want that?”
Yes, but not at the expense of his life. I exhaled loudly through my nose and leaned into his touch. “You’re more important.”
“We’ve done things like this a million times. Two million. You wanted to be part of the club shit with the Kings again. This is your chance, baby.”
He was right. I knew he was right. So why was my mind such a fucking mess? My ribs ached and I couldn’t tell what was real or ghost pain. The doctors said I’d always bedamaged—not in those words, but close enough. I was fragile on the inside, a house of cards ready to collapse. Was I ready for this? It was what I wanted, but would I risk PD’s life for a chance to redeem myself?
“We’re Kings. This is what we do,” he murmured. “And those cops fucked with us. Fucked with me. Are we gonna allow that?”
I ground my teeth. “Fuck no. Let’s get those motherfuckers.”
PD grinned. “Yeah, baby. Let’s get ’em.”
18
PD
The sign for the Precinct—a golden neon cop badge that made my skin crawl—glowed, a bright beacon of light to our left. It was almost enough to put me off neon signs. Maybe it was time the Ink Well got a new one.
My riding boots crunched gravel as we headed toward the front door of the bar and ignored the patio full of rambunctious drunk and smoking cops off to our right. The twinkle lights strung over their heads struck me as funny and I snorted. Of all the things that screamed “Cop!” to me, little strings of lights weren’t it.
“I found Loubeck’s address,” Dallas said for the fifth time. “Why don’t we just go there?” He kicked at the gravel.
“Yeah, so we can catch him with his entire stash of guns nearby and topped up with bullets?” King shook his head. “No. It would be better to catch him out somewhere. That’s our last resort.”
“Maybe wearing our cuts was too much,” Dallas murmured, grasping King’s hand, then letting it go, as if he was worriedabout looking weak. He squared his shoulders but ruined it by tugging at his cut.
Will chuckled, and I threw my arm over his solid shoulders, slowing down so we were keeping pace with each other. Touching him soothed my nerves but sparked new worries as he pressed a hand to his ribs and nestled into my side. Was he well enough to do this? He thought so, which meant I needed to respect that.
