Knox reaches me, first, and this time, instead of keeping me at arm’s length, he wraps his arms tightly around me.
I shove him away. One of us should try to remember our pact.
But tears sting my eyes. “It’s…they…the store…Knox. It’s them.”
“What are you all standing around for? Go fucking get them,” he yells. “And let’s bring Pax in. Deal with all these fuckers tonight.”
It’s chaos. Men. Bikes. The roar of engines.
The world moves in a blur around me.
“Come here. I’ve got you,” Knox says.
But I shake my head, pulling away again. “Remember.” The word comes out on a sob.
“For fuck’s sake,” he grumbles, and pulls me in so firmly, I collapse in tears against Knox’s chest.
He tangles his fingers into my hair. His lips brush the top of my head. “Did they hurt you?”
I shake my head, the scent of leather and whiskey comforting. “I hurt myself…jumping out a…window.”
He steps back at that, cupping my tearstained cheeks, checking for himself whether I’m hurt or not. “I’m fed up with those men targeting you.”
I huff a sob that’s part laughter. “It’s getting old,” I admit.
“Good girl, bringing them to me,” he mutters. “I won’t let them touch you again.”
But beyond his words, reality starts to settle in. I came to his clubhouse and feel the weight of the bikers who didn’t go after the truck, staring.
Watching me.
Watching him.
“Well, this is a fucking turn of events,” Havoc says. I don’t know the man, but I know his road name because of his patch. He never fishes, so he never comes in to buy bait. We’ve crossed paths occasionally in the grocery store, and he glares at me like he is now.
He’s tugging up his jeans and is shirtless. “Who went?” he asks Knox.
“Ridge and Vandal were the first on their bikes. Sunny and Lock were right with them. About five prospects followed after, but they’ll be left behind.”
“And her?” Havoc asks, contempt on his face.
Knox looks down at me. “She’s with me.”
26
KNOX
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck!
We’ve never been closer to capturing the two men and figuring out what the hell they want. I should be happy about that. Hell, I should have been on my bike with my men, running them down. Although, if anyone can catch them, Vandal will.
But there was confusion getting through the gate. A delay while people processed why the hell a truck had just screamed into our compound. At first, their attention was on Maren, not the truck that blew by once it realized where Maren had led them.
Then, another set of delays as people scrambled for their bikes and fought through the demolished gate and debris to get their bikes out onto the street.
