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I shrug. “He lost me so I’d say he’s hurting pretty bad… even if he doesn’t know it yet. Oh, and I hurled breakable things at the wall in an attempt to impale the two of them with clay.”
“Good.” He laughs before glancing at me with an evil grin. “Speaking of which… maybe I’ll just let Tate loose on Streak when…”
His words are interrupted by the sound of glass shattering and we both jerk toward the protestors as one of them lights a rag on fire before hurling a mason jar filled with liquid over the fence. It lands on Chance’s truck and flames roar up from the impact.
“Holy shit…”
Lincoln wraps his arm around me and we stand up as another protestor lights another Molotov cocktail and flashes us a grin. He hurls it over the fence and I watch in horror as it sails toward us with remarkable accuracy before landing on the pavement a few feet in front of us.
“Fuck. Get inside now,” Lincoln orders, shoving me toward the clubhouse door as he follows behind me and another cocktail flies over the fence.
Oh, shit.
This is so bad.
The street is full of people and we’re trapped in here like rats.
“Blaze!” Lincoln roars as soon as we step inside and everything in the room screeches to a halt before Storm turns the music down, a look of concern on his face.
“What’s going on?”
Lincoln releases me and they huddle together, whispering about the situation before they march off toward Blaze’s office and everyone else turns to me. My heart climbs into my throat and I point to the window.
“Look outside.”
They all rush to the closest window and gasps fill the room followed by angry hisses and whispered curses but I turn away from them, desperate for only one person and before I can even fully turn around, his arms wrap around me and he buries his nose in my hair.
“What’s happening, Princess?”
I pull back and meet his eyes. “The protestors… they’re throwing Molotov cocktails over the fence… one hit Chance’s truck and one almost hit me.”
“Fuck,” he snarls, his face the picture of rage as he pulls me tighter into his body. He’s shaking and his heart is racing against my ear and I grip his t-shirt, clinging to him with everything I have. Storm, Blaze, and Lincoln step out of Blaze’s office and Blaze whistles to get everyone’s attention.
“We can’t stay here anymore.”
Murmurs of agreement ripple through the room.
“I’m going to call Rodriguez and get us an escort out of here but y’all need to go pack and we need to be quick. Understand?”
My mind is blank as his words slip in one ear and race out of the other. A chill descends over me as I turn to look out of the window, trying to put all of the pieces together but it’s like someone dumped a hundred different puzzles in a bag and I can’t find any that fit. Travis grabs my arms and gives me a little shake, forcing me to focus on him as he meets my eyes.
“Go pack your stuff, baby, and I’ll be down in just a minute, okay?”
I nod on autopilot and when he releases me to go to his own bedroom, I walk across the bar as chaos rages around me. Flames dance in the window as I pass by it and it feels like something out of a dream. I lean my shoulder against the wall in the hallway and close my eyes, remembering the cocktail hitting the ground right in front of me and tears sting my eyes. When I open them again, I lightly slap my face and suck in a breath.
“Get it together, Rowan.”
I take a few seconds to take a couple of deep breaths to calm myself down and when I feel more in control, I push off of the wall and slip into my room. Moving through the room like a tornado, I throw things into my bags haphazardly, not even checking if things are clean before I shove them into my luggage and when it seems like I have everything, I zip my bags closed and carry them out into the main room. Travis is back at the bar, two bags at his feet as he chugs some whiskey straight from the bottle.
Excellent.
“I know this looks bad,” he says, glancing over at me when I stop next to him and drop my stuff on the floor. I arch a brow.
“You think?”
He nods and takes another swig. “Thing is, I was already too tipsy to safely drive so this seemed like the best thing I could do.”
Sighing, I decide not to argue with him about it when we clearly have much bigger things to worry about. The move is dumb as hell and unreasonable but if he was already well on his way to drunk before shit hit the fan, which he was, I can’t expect him to think rationally. He offers me some and I shake my head. He may not be able to drive but I can and it’s going to stay that way.
