Next to me, Shadow chuckles and puts his hand on my shoulder in solidarity.

Their officer’s smile is red with blood. “Fuck you.”

I don't expect more than that, honestly. I'd say the fucking same. Doesn't matter. The message has been delivered, and the Outlaw Sons aren't gonna forget this anytime soon.

“Let's get the fuck outta here. Some of us have better places to be,” Wraith says with disdain dripping from his every word.

I look around to see how the guys are doing as we mount our bikes. Phoenix's nose has a dried trickle of blood under it. Sledge has a cut on his forehead and his knuckles are red and raw. Wraith and Reaper both took hits that are red now but are going to be fucking rainbow in the morning, I'm sure. Shadow looks alright, but he’s breathing carefully. Wild Child on the other hand is grinning like he's just had the best fucking time, even though there’s blood on his chin from a split lip, and the bright purple streak in his hair is all over the fucking place. Shrapnel winces as he rubs over a lump on his forehead, but all in all, especially given the odds, we did good. Fucking good.

Motorcycles rumble in the distance.

“Incoming,” says Sledge.

“Let's go.” We fire up our bikes as one and pull outta there, putting distance between us and the Burnout, and more importantly, the reinforcements.

12

SLEDGE

It feels fuckingweird to ring the doorbell on my own house. For my whole life, this was where grandma lived, and for a lot of it, I was right here with her. Unlike my brothers who fit right in with our parents, I always felt like a cuckoo, an imposter dropped into the wrong family in spite of looking like a carbon copy of my father. The only one who accepted me as I am was the tough old broad who lived here.

“Sledge?” Shelby looks up at me in surprise as she opens the door.

I stare down at her, the words I’ve been practicing the whole way over drying up in my throat. It might be because from my angle I get just a little bit more of her cleavage than I think she's intending, but it’s mostly just me. I fucking suck at talking to anyone who isn’t in my immediate circle. Especially if they’re as fucking gorgeous as her.

“Do you need something?”

“Gutters.”

Shelby cocks her head, smiling a little. “Is there something wrong with them?”

I point towards the corner where I noticed discoloration from water running down the siding. “Gotta check ‘em.”

She reaches out and grabs my hand. “What happened?”

“This?” I flex my fingers, pulling at the scabs that are just starting to form. If I tell her the truth, she won’t be happy. Women don’t usually like hearing about fights. Except some of the club sluts that get off on the danger, but that’s not really my thing. “Renovation.”

“Renovation, huh? You’re into DIY?” She looks skeptical, and when she does, there's just a little twitch to her nose that's fucking adorable.

“Didn’t say I was good at it.”

She laughs, and it takes her from beautiful to a fucking angel, but it also loosens my tongue a little and makes me want to hear it again. “Come in, you should put something on that.”

I look down at my hands. The hands that were pounding the assholes who hurt Phoenix, and are now being held like they’re worth something. Like me hurting is important. “Just going to get ‘em dirty again.”

“All the more reason to make sure you’re patched up first and they don’t get infected.” She pulls me into the house and I follow like a puppy. “Sorry, the gutters are probably my fault. I’m still getting used to taking care of a house. You didn’t have to come by yourself.”

“It's no problem. I should have someone come by in the fall and clean them out for you, but I’m still getting used to the whole landlord thing.”

She smiles, her warm brown eyes sparkling. “Good. That makes me feel better, actually. We can figure it out together. Wait here, I’ll go get the first aid stuff.”

Fuuuck, there’s a lot I wouldn’t mind figuring out together with her, but I’m pretty sure Havoc would kill me if he knew the kinda shit I’m imagining as I watch her fine ass walk away. I sit down in the kitchen, looking around. “Where’s Mia?”

“She’s over at a friend’s house. I’m picking her up later,” Shelby calls.

Shelby comes back and pulls up a chair. She takes my hand, her soft skin so smooth against mine. Makes me feel like an ogre. And she's warm. So fucking warm. She pulls her lip between her teeth as she focuses, dabbing an antiseptic wipe across my cracked knuckles.

“I can do that,” I say quietly, without pulling my hand away.