Page 35

She nods, even though I can see her shaking from here.

I turn back to Dusty.

"You want a fight?" I ask. "Fine. Let's fight. But just you and me. Tell your boys to back off."

Dusty laughs. "You think I'm stupid? No way I'm fighting you one-on-one. You're a biker. I'm not an idiot."

"Could've fooled me," I mutter.

"What was that?"

"I said you're a coward. Hiding behind four other guys because you know you can't take me yourself."

Dusty's face flushes red. "I'm not a coward!"

"Yeah, you are. And deep down, you know it. That's why you're drunk. That's why you brought backup. That's why you're standing there with a bat instead of your fists."

"Fuck you," Dusty snarls, and he swings.

I dodge left, and the bat whistles past my head so close I feel the air move.

The shaved-head guy comes at me with the tire iron. I duck under his swing, drive my fist into his gut, and shove him back into one of the others.

Dusty swings again. I catch the bat mid-swing with both hands, yank it out of his grip, and throw it across the parking lot.

"You son of a—" Dusty lunges at me.

I sidestep, let his momentum carry him past me, and drive my elbow into his back. He goes down hard on the pavement and doesn't get back up. One down.

The other three rush me at once.

I take a wrench to the shoulder. Glancing blow, barely hurts, and drive my fist into the guy's face. His head snaps back and he drops like a stone, blood streaming from his nose. Two down.

But then someone hits me from behind, something hard across the back of my head, and my vision whites out for a second. I stagger forward, try to regain my balance, but a boot catches me in the ribs, and I go down hard on my hands and knees.

Fuck.

Another kick, this one to my side, and I grunt, trying to roll away.

"Not so tough now, are you?" someone snarls above me.

I look up. The guy with the tire iron is standing over me, and the shaved-head guy I thought I put down is getting back to his feet, blood still streaming from his nose.

The tire iron comes down toward my head.

I block it with my forearm. Pain explodes up my arm but I don't let go, and yank hard, pulling the guy off balance. He stumbles, and I sweep his legs out from under him.

But before I can get up, the shaved-head guy kicks me in the stomach. Hard. The air rushes out of my lungs, and I curl forward involuntarily.

Another kick. This one to my back.

I hear Bree screaming my name from somewhere far away, but I can't focus on that right now. I need to get up. I need to…

The roar of motorcycle engines cuts through everything.

The kicks stop.

I force my head up, vision swimming, and see five bikes coming around the corner. Phoenix's bike is in front, headlight cutting through the growing dusk. Behind him: Saint, Ranger, Wraith, and Brick.