“I’m going to call them.” She began edging backward again.
I started for her. “If you call them, I’ll tell Mason what’s really going on.”
She wasn’t stopping. If I ran outright, she’d gun the engine and go. She’d crash through the barricade even, but this was my ace.
If I called, it’d be pointless. Mason would never allow it.
She jerked back in her seat, hitting the brakes. Her mouth fell open. “Are you kidding me?” Her eyes narrowed, and she closed her mouth, thinking.
I didn’t like that look, not at all. She was still planning something.
A second later, she said, “They’ll still come.”
“No, they won’t.”
Heather’s mouth flattened in a determined line. “Let’s see, shall we?”
I’d created a monster.
She hit the pedal and the truck shot backward.
I stood in the middle of the road and watched as she continued backing up. She wasn’t even looking.
I knew the second she was going to whip the truck around. Her eyes held mine, and she mouthed “I love you” just before her hands tightened on the wheel. She hit the brakes and jerked it around.
The truck lurched, rocking on its tires, and then Heather accelerated again.
Moose stepped up next to me. He didn’t speak; I just gave my order.
“I want five men on her. One of them has to be Lincoln.”
He nodded. “On it.” He radioed ahead for the guys at the gate to let her through, and for two to follow right away. He moved back, pulling out his phone to call the rest. They’d be at Manny’s when she showed up.
Becca sidled up next to us. “Let me protect her. I’d like to take on that responsibility. I feel somewhat protective of Heather, like she’s going to become a younger sister to me.”
I’d forgotten she and Congo were still here. They were waiting just behind us.
“She just threatened you at the springs.”
She raised her head. “I want to prove her wrong. I know you all think I have certain issues, and I’ll admit to most of them, but I’m someone worth having around. Let me prove it to you.” She skimmed over Congo, and I was thinking he was more the you than myself.
I sighed. “Congo?”
He lifted a shoulder. “She was the one who brought Richter’s plan to us, but I’ll take her on. She’ll be my responsibility.”
I didn’t trust her. I jerked a hand at Congo. “You go with her.”
A smile began to spread over her face. I stepped into her personal space, just like Heather had at the springs, but I was a lot taller, stronger, and way more lethal.
“If anything—and I mean it, anything—happens to her or Congo, I am holding you responsible. That means whatever happens to them will happen to you threefold.”
She flinched.
Good.
“Got it?” I almost spat on her.
She nodded quickly. “Got it.”
“Then get the fuck out of my face.”
She didn’t need any other encouragement. She was speeding away in seconds, and I growled at Congo.
“If she’s the one to hurt Heather, or allow Heather to be hurt—”
“I got it.” His mouth was a flat line. “You’ll hold me personally responsible.”
“You’ll do it.”
He stopped, frowning. “What?”
I spelled it out. “You. If she does anything to Heather, I’m going to make you enact the revenge on her, and you’re going to have to do it over and over again.”
I wasn’t beyond killing, but I liked to dish out my revenge in slow and torturous ways. Congo knew this because he’d been right beside me, sometimes watching, sometimes protecting me, and sometimes being the one to hold someone down.
He clipped his head in a nod. “I got it, boss.”
“Good.” I motioned for his truck where Becca had gone. “Get out of here then.”
He left just as Moose was coming back.
I started on him. “And why the fuck did you not call about the warehouses?”
He hesitated just briefly before lowering his head. “I didn’t know what he was planning, just that two of his warehouses were on fire.”
“Anything that happens to our enemies, I get told immediately. I want to know before it happens? Got it?”
“Got it, boss.”
“Where are the rest of the guys?”
“As soon as you called, I sent them out. They’re all watching Richter’s places.”
That was good, but there was one person we should’ve heard from before anyone else.
Where the hell was Traverse?
34
Heather
What the hell am I doing?
Channing was in real danger, and I was going nuts. I was considering calling the Kades, and for what? For a civilian border between Channing and the Red Demons? As if the MC would even care about that—they probably wouldn’t. And it would put Sam in danger, her baby too. Channing was right. I’d been stupid to consider calling them.
But I wasn’t leaving either. The crew members who had wives and kids had all been sent away for safety. That wasn’t me. I wanted to tear the bastards apart with my bare hands, but I also wanted to make sure everything, everyone I loved was safe. Manny’s. My brother. My workers. They were all mine.
My responsibilities. My family.
As I drove through Roussou and out to Fallen Crest, some rational thinking began to edge in, and I was back to the root of the problems Channing and I had always had.
Channing’s crew life was dangerous. That extended to me. Which extended to my brother. Because I loved Channing, my brother was at risk, our business was at risk. So what should I do? I couldn’t leave Channing. I’d tried over and over again. Did I leave Manny’s? I had a feeling no matter how much time passed, Channing’s enemies wouldn’t care. They’d know I loved my brother and the bar I’d nursed to life since high school. If they wanted to hurt me, I was an easy target, but my God… If anything happened to that place, to Brandon, I’d be the one in danger of going to prison.
The lengths I’d go should’ve scared me. They didn’t.
So maybe, when I looked up and saw a line of motorcycles blocking the road, I didn’t turn around. I should’ve turned Channing’s truck around. I should’ve gunned the engine.
I didn’t do any of that.
If I had, what happened next wouldn’t have happened.
If they wanted someone to hurt, fine. They could try. Maybe they would hurt me, but I was going to take every last motherfucker with me.
I stopped the truck. Right in the middle of the goddamn road. I knew the stakes. We didn’t live by police. We didn’t expect them to protect us, and we didn’t use them to enact our vengeance.
So it was me and those Red Demons.
I had a strong feeling if I gave chase, they’d enjoy the ride.
As I was thinking that, another line of motorcyclists pulled up behind me. I looked in the rearview mirror.
They’d been waiting on a side road.
I was blocked in.
Fuckers.
The guy in the lead got off his bike and held his hands out, signifying he had no weapons. That was a lie. We both knew he had one or two guns on him.
My thoughts raced as he walked toward me.
A pit of ice sank in my gut, coating my insides.
Channing kept a gun in here. It was attached under the seat. I could grab it, but then what? They’d find it. I had no doubt. My jeans were skin tight. My shirt too. There was not enough cleavage between my boobs to hide an entire handgun.