Preacher nods. “Doing some recon. One of our guys spotted these assholes rolling into town last night. Can’t mean anything good.” He gives me a long look, an expression that looks likeconcern etched into his features. “Anything you need to tell me, Decker?”
I snort. “Like I said. Need-to-know. Could use a distraction, though. If you two are up for a little fun.”
“No way,” Tex grunts. “Our orders are to assess and report back. Axe would flip if we engaged without his say-so.”
Three guns to their… five? Six? Better odds. Maybe I get to Grace on time. Maybe I get her out of there in one piece.
“Since when are you so well behaved?” I ask.
“I don’t like getting my ass beat. And our prez is in a hell of a mood tonight thanks to your brothers in blue. I’m not about to start testing his patience when he’s feeling this… violent.”
Chin lifted, I take a step closer. “You owe me.”
His eyes narrow. I’m calling in my favour. I saved Tex’s life once. About to die, pinned in a corner, seconds from taking a few bullets to the chest kind of saving. I could have left him for dead. Instead, I risked my ass to save his.
He peers at the farmhouse behind me. Then he assesses me—my mask, dark clothes, the gun—and scratches at his jaw. “It’ll bring a lot of heat on the club if this goes south. And all flatlands. Someone starts popping shots off and the coppers show up, we’ll have nowhere to run. Sounds like a one-way ticket to a jail cell, and I’m much too pretty for the slammer. I’ll pass.”
I shake my head. “I don’t need you to drop any bodies. Like I said. A distraction. I’ll be in and out. And shit gets heated? You bail. Leave me. Nothing to blow back on the Sinners. I’ll take all the heat. Youowe me,” I repeat.
He steps closer, pointing his finger in my face. “I do this, we’re even. Got it? And not a fucking word to Axe. You either,” he says, turning to Preach.
Preacher sighs. “This is a bad idea.”
I shrug. “So?”
Silently, Preacher steps towards the wire fencing, assessing the property in front of us—the overgrown grass just beyond the fence leading into the field, the mostly collapsed shed to our left, the body of a rust-eaten pickup behind it. The mound of junk piled on top. Wooden boards, scrap metal, beer bottles, gas cans, the low hum of what I assume is a generator in that shed.
“What are you thinking?” I ask.
“That you’re hiding something.” He skirts around me and leans over the fence. He picks up one of the gas cans, opens it, and sniffs. Then he grins. “Got your distraction. Go through the front. You’ll know when it’s time. Once you’re in, you’re on your own, you got it?”
With a nod, I turn and head towards the house. I only make it a step before Tex grabs me.
“Why you really here, Decker? What’s your skin in this?”
I glance up at the house and clench my fists. That familiar anger burns hot in my chest. I let it simmer, bubble up rather than calm it like I usually do. They’ll get it all. All the anger, the rage, that blood-boiling fury. Everything fueling me, fueling this need. The need to kill someone. And I will. If they hurt her, I will fucking kill them. All of them.
“They took something that belongs to me,” I say, a fresh swell of anger flooding my veins. “And I’m gonna get her back.”
28
The explosion shakesthe entire house.
The backyard lights up, glowing amber. ThedistractionI was promised.
I go still, watching, waiting, lying prone in the tall grass lining the gravel driveway, eyes trained on the front door.
Shouts erupt from inside. A distant door slams. More shouting.
I keep focus. From here, I can see my bike lying on its side to the right of the house. Perfect. It’s how I’ll get us out of here.
Another explosion.
The shouts get louder. Shadows dance across the ground.
Time to do this.
I jump to my feet, sprint across the driveway, and hurtle up the sinking porch stairs. Ignoring the old wood groaning under my weight, I raise my gun and slowly push open the door.
