“Hove?” Drew laughed, making Travis and me flinch in surprise. “Jacob Hove is why I’m here? I don’t recall being the guy who put that bullet between his eyes. That was you.”
“Opinions vary.” Trigger smirked. “Few people know that. What would our families think?” He sighed softly.
“They’d probably wish it was you who took the fall, not him. I’m sure their lives would be richer without—”
Travis struck out, the gut punch he planted in Drew’s stomach so fast, it had almost been impossible to see. Drew’s groan was deep as he bent forward, curling himself into the left where Travis had landed a hit on him.
The satisfied look on Trigger’s face was despicable and made my anger rise. It felt like my insides were too hot to contain.
“Does the truth hurt, Travis? Do you forget how well I know your mom?” I smiled cruelly. “You know, she hated the way Jacob was always seeking your approval. She said it would only get him into trouble one day. I don’t think that it would surprise her to learn that you shot him in the face point blank to prove a point.”
Travis didn’t try and hit me as I’d expected him to. Instead, his hand grabbed my chin roughly, angling my face, so the spit from his forced words laced my cheek. “Mymomthought you were a fucking cunt. I say it takes one to know one, right?”
I smiled at him. “Mommy issues?” I asked, trying not to make a sound to alert Drew that Travis was squeezing harder.
A familiar roar of anger was set free, and before Traviscould offer any retort, Drew had moved, grabbing hold of Trigger’s neck with every ounce of strength he had. His face was twisted with rage, veins popping in his head as he growled and tore Trigger from me, throwing himself on top of him, sending Travis to the ground with such force, his head was the first point of contact, connecting with the edge of the raised platform that Eric was swinging upon.
“Don’t youfuckingtouch her,” Drew spat, using all his power and might to pull himself back just enough to swing his arm up and back down onto Trigger’s jaw.
Drew had been quick—his reaction had been faster than any of Trigger’s men had been expecting, so it took a moment for them to catch up. All of their guns moved from The Hounds to Drew, and the Nav closest to us pushed the barrel of his 9mm to the back of Drew’s skull and made him freeze.
“Now that’s the Drew Tucker we all know and hate,” Trigger grumbled, spitting blood from his mouth and smirking. He glanced up at me and back at Drew with a smirk that was too calm. “Every time you throw your fists around, I will give your bitch a new scar to take to Hell with her.”
Drew closed his eyes, his breaths ragged as his whole body sagged.
Trigger rose, his body stumbling to the side, which only made his sadistic laughter grow as he wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Hell of a good fighter, though. That could work in your favor today.” Trigger tugged on his cut to straighten it down, his chest rising as he pulled in a breath of air and surveyed everyone within the warehouse with a terrifying amount of control.
It was only then that I allowed myself to listen to everything else going on around us. I could hear the grumblings of every man I’d ever shared The Hut with—their growls and fights quieter than Drew’s had been. When I turned to look back atthem, each one was being held by two or three men, their arms pinned behind them as their fight became weaker.
“Contrary to popular belief, I’m not a total bastard,” Trigger said smoothly, pulling my attention back to his smug face. His eyes were zoned in on mine, focused. “I do believe some people are entitled to a happy ever after, don’t you, Ayda? Good people. They deserve the chance to fight for their fairytale ending.”
There was no answer I could give him that would satisfy his sick need to gain the upper hand and use us as puppets in this little production he’d organized. His smug smile only grew as I glared at him.
“Come on, it’s a simple question.” He reached out to touch me, and the growls that spread around the place just made his humor more evident, even as I swatted his hand away. He leaned closer, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Shall I let Drew fight for yours, Ayda? Shall I let them all fight for your happiness? Let some of them die so you get to live your dream?”
“No.” If he thought for a second that I was willing to sacrifice even one of these men for my life… he was wrong. So very wrong.
