Page 138 of Praying for Thunder

I took a step forward. “Baby,” but the guy next to me had his gun again.

“I wouldn’t move.”

The man holding Rya kept smiling at me, like a dare, as he lifted his hand and placed it on her breast.

Flashes of red filled my eyes. I would say it blinded me, but it was more of the opposite. I could somehow now see more.

In pure reaction, I lifted my boot and slammed it to the side of the gunman’s knee. Tendons ripped and bones snapped, taking him down, but I didn’t wait for him to hit the ground. More pure reactions had me charging forward, slamming into the man holding Rya so he would lose his grip.

The three of us crashed to the ground, Rya rolling to the side. Sensing this was our only chance to live, I kept rolling, sure to grab the man’s foot as I went past him, yanking with all my might. His shin popped—surrendered—to the force of my rage.

While three injured men screamed with knee and leg injuries, the last one standing ran and kicked me in the back. This not being the first time I’d ever been attacked while on the ground, I took advantage of him rearing back for another hit, rolling into the strike before he could get good momentum.

Catching the man off-guard, he tripped over me and tumbled to the ground. Barely stopping from his fall, I was already up on one knee and sending a fist downward with such force, when it landed, I heard bones in his face shatter.

All my beatings and fighting against Pierce had paid off. It had given me an edge that had been waiting to be set free.

Searching for the last guy standing, I was horrified to find him shifting his gun from me to Rya.

I was to die, also—that I understood—but now it was clear she was their main target.

Trying to get up from the ground to shelter her body with mine, I roared, “No,” but wasn’t fast enough. I just knew it. Everything happened in slow motion. That is the way I was going to see my sweet girl, my little goddess, my true Old Lady… die.

Ka-Boom!

The man who had intended on killing her, shockingly, went flying backward, his feet in the air along with his folding body.

From behind Rya, a man came running, looking about ten years older than me. His arm was still aimed, firing another round, as he leaped over Rya’s body. His brown hair made his sharp eyes look like blue clouds against a dark sky.

Having not a clue who this was, as he ran past me, I went to Rya. Sliding down to the ground, I shielded her with my arms, half dragging her with me until I came to a stop.

After rushing to my knees and shielding her with my body, I watched this man go to each biker on the ground. “Like fucking roaches!” Ka-boom! He fired a bullet into each head. “You don’t know how to stay dead!” Ka-Boom! “Goddamnit!” Ka-Boom!

On the back of his leather cut was a howling wolf. This man was a Redemption Ryder.

Shocked that he was there, and not in Georgia, I suddenly remembered hanging up on Diesel. “We’re only hours…” He had said “out.”

Diesel was here.

Suddenly wanting to see his mug more than anyone, staying down on one knee, I huddled over Rya, but the closest I could find that looked like him was the man who had just killed our attackers.

When noticing me watching him, he winced. “Sorry. I have this vendetta thing with this club. Fucking hate Hell Furies.”

“Art!” Diesel, along with a slew of other Ryders, raced to us. He spotted all the bodies. “Fucking Christ!”

“What?” asked Art. “I didn’t put them on the ground!” He pointed to me. “He did!”

The fuck? Shielding Rya, I quickly explained, “Wait! He’s the one who killed them!”

“Oh, great.” Diesel knelt next to me as he complained. “Now I have two of you to piss me off.” He started examining Rya. “She okay?”

Two of us?

Mind blown, I uttered, “S-She… seizure,” while staring up at the man who had just saved her life. My brother.

“Thunder?” an angel whispered.

“Rya.” I exhaled relief. “I’m here.” Gently as possible, I hugged her while she lay on the ground. “Here.”