I could still scarcely move from the aching in my loins but when I heard the telltale sound of a commotion outside, I felt Bear stiffen. We lay there, on edge for a few moments, before I heard a voice I had hoped not to hear again.
“Fuck,” I hissed out, my body shaking in fear. Bear stood up, looking out the side window. “Is that…”
“Stay here, Orla. I mean it, do not fucking come outside.”
I could only nod my head as I watched him pull on his jeans, boots and shirt before he left the shed. I slowly pulled my clothes from the side of the room and with shaking hands, put them on my body.
The sound of a gunshot had my body frozen in fear.
Was Bear okay?
I rushed to put the rest of my clothes on and looked out the window. The entire carpark area was awash with rival MC members, and that fucker Neal coming at Ace.
Fuck.
I moved through the garage that was connected to the studio and looked for a gun. I knew there would be one in here, this place was used for them to torture their enemies for information. I wasn’t clueless as to how bad things could get here, but the simple fact was, it was a business. They needed to put pressure on people who didn’t respect them.
Everywhere I looked there were only tire irons, and basic tools you would use if you were working on bikes.
Fuck.
I grabbed the closest thing to me which was a crowbar and I moved out of the garage, staying to the edge of the fray. I could see faces in the windows of the clubhouse watching on as the compound was awash with war.
They had the fucking nerve to come here and do this on our turf? Neal was going to die today, and I was glad for it.
Not just for my own sanity, but for Sheridan and those beautiful girls. They would be free of him.
We all would and the world would be better for it.
I tried to see where Bear was but with all the flying fists and grunts, it was hard to see through the bodies.
Fear shot through me like a bullet as I searched for him. If Neal tried to hurt him, I would be the one doing life in prison.
That’s when I saw him.
He locked eyes with me, his eyes wide with fear, just as a fist collided with his jaw. I screamed out, running toward him.
He hadn’t gone down. Instead, he reared back and delivered an uppercut to the offender, and then another fist into the side of the face. The guy was down. Bear came over to me, grabbing the crowbar off me and hauling me away.
“I told you to stay put,” he growled. “Get inside.”
“No,” I replied, angrily.
“Orla, I swear to god if anyone hurt you right now, I would be put on death row,” he said, his eyes flush with anger.
“We don’t have death row here.”
“They’d bring it back for what I did to everyone here. Get the fuck inside and lock the doors.”
I didn’t want to leave him. I felt like I couldn’t, but I knew I had to.
I knew me being out here would get him seriously hurt.
“I want my crowbar back.”
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” he growled again. “Get.”
I held my hand out, not wanting to budge. Something about pushing his limits, even amongst a warzone, did things to me.
