He shakes his head. “No, we’ve sealed the area, got a couple of their guys who spilled their guts already. Choker has them in the dungeon.”
I don’t even want to know about the dungeon.
“My brother?” Ivy says, tucking her hair behind her ears. “He won’t be back for hours yet, right?”
Declan nods. “The NOLA boys just arrived, too.”
Holy crap, the cavalry.
This is turning out to be a fucking morning and a half.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-EIGHT
Logan
A bullet flies past my head as a giant hand grabs me in the nick of time, pulling me back. “Holy shit,” I mutter, pointing my gun as I shoot.
The fucker goes down, holding his neck as he wails.
I turn to see who just saved my life.
“You sure the almighty didn’t send me to watch your back?” Viking smirks.
“The bastards are shootin’ through the fuckin’ gates.”
“Yeah, they’re not gonna get through them, their grenade didn’t do shit.” He thumps his chest with one fist, looking quite proud of himself. “Put it up myself.”
“Jesus.”
He turns to whack me on the back. “You good?”
“Yeah.”
“Can thank me later.” He takes off to grab the assailant—a Skeleton—and yanks him up by his feet.
Blood is pissing out all over the place.
“Nice shot!” Hornet calls over to me.
I give him a chin lift. That was a little too close for comfort.
There are bikers running everywhere. The Skeletons chose today to attack because Bane and Shadow are both gone, along with a string of others, but they certainly didn’t leave the clubhouse unprotected.
This is the last fucking thing we need, and my mind flicks back to Payden as I remember how frightened she looked before I took off. She’s been through so much these last few days. I told her I’d keep her safe. How is this attack doing that?
Without any time to ponder my dark thoughts, we dodge another stray bullet and I aim for the back of one of the cuts reading Skeleton Prospect, and fire. Typical. They sent the lowest members to do the dirty work. Schmuck. He goes down, the weapon falling from his hand into the dirt. The gate may be intact, but they were still able to breach it by a far wall and that won’t sit well with any of the men. At least for now the danger seems to be contained as motorcycles go roaring away from the other side of the gate.
My phone buzzes. “The fuck is goin’ on?” Haze yells down the phone.
“Skeletons,” I say. “Just attacked us and a couple got through.”
“I have a live one right here,” Haze replies. “Hustler has him in a choke hold. The rest fled just as we were gettin’ closer.”
“I’ll tell the boys to let you in once the coast is clear. Might be a few because the grenade did some damage to the electronics, unless you wanna scale the wall.”
Who in the fuck has a bomb-proof fucking gate?
