Page 104 of Static

"Shit," Rainer muttered.

"Yeah. Fremont sent those men after us. They started that fight today. If you can get my brothers out of jail, it would be much appreciated. But for now, I have to go. Fremont is going after my girlfriend and her kid."

"Gwen?" Torres asked. "I can get some officers over there, the good guys, I mean."

"Do that," I told him. "They'll have taken him to the hospital on Orange Grove. Make sure they come in uniform and in an official capacity. I'm not going to be giving anyone a chance if they're in plain clothes. I have to go. Rainer? A minute?"

He followed me out of the police station. "I need your car."

"Oh shit, Reed. I'm driving the Mustang-"

"Rainer! Fuck your car!" I barked. I'd replace it later if I needed to. For now, nothing was more important than getting to Gwen.

He sighed and handed over his keys.

"You have a gun in there?"

"Of course. Center console."

"Thanks," I told him. I didn't say anything else, just ran for the cherry red Mustang sitting in the lot.

The ride across town seemed to take forever. My mind was racing as I navigated traffic and urged the car to faster speeds. I didn't bother to call anyone. My brothers were locked up. Cypher and the others were watching over our families. The Saint's Outlaws were watching over the women and children from the cult. I was on my own.

It was up to me to save Gwen. I didn't know who she had with her, Sean or Grace, and it didn't matter. I wasn't going to let a fucking thing happen to them. I pulled into the parking lot for the hospital, and had to take a deep breath. The only thing I could do was drive around these huge grounds looking for them.

I'd just turned into another section when I saw a dog pile on the ground and a couple extra men watching as their friends ganged up on Scythe. A man went flying through the air and Scythe jerked to his feet as two more men hung off him. I drove through the men watching, sending them flying over the hood and into the air. Jumping out of the car, I faced Scythe.

He shot me a grin. "The parking garage," he yelled to me as he kept going after the men rolling around on the ground in pain.

Shit. Fremont already had Gwen. My steps slowed but he shook his head. "These fuckers are mine. Get your own."

Despite the tense situation, I laughed and left him there to deal with what was left of the men. I had no doubt he could handle himself. He had a reputation that had followed him from the special forces into civilian life. It was why Cypher had brought him into the Berserker's Rage MC and his security company. The man was a machine.

I made it to the parking garage and glanced around. Where would Fremont go? What would be the easiest way for him to get my family out? I ran, following the signs that led further down into the garage. Relief surged when I saw them up ahead. Pulling the gun out, I aimed at the group, being sure to keep Gwen and Sean out of my line of sights. "Fremont!"

As one, the group stopped and turned. The hope and worry on Gwen's face when she saw me nearly broke my heart. This wasn't what she needed. Wasn't what Sean needed. He was standing near his mom, an electric blue cast on his left arm. His blue eyes, so similar to Gwen's, were pleading with me to help them.

"Let them go, John," I called out as I walked closer. "It's over."

"It's not fucking over," he snarled, yanking Gwen toward him.

She had moved Sean to her other side, away from the madman next to them.

"If you try anything, I'll kill her." He narrowed his eyes. "You know what? I don't want to fucking talk to you. Kill him," he ordered the two men at the back of the group.

I dove behind a nearby car as shots rang out around me for the second time that day. Swearing, I ducked behind the tire of the car so I didn't catch a stray bullet. I couldn't return fire because I might end up hitting Gwen or Sean. As much as I wanted to kill every one of these motherfuckers, I'd have to think of another way. Popping up, I saw Fremont dragging Gwen away. Sean wasn't anywhere to be seen, and the men who were shooting at me were starting to look nervous.

"He's wrong," I called out. "This is over. Do you want to go to prison with Fremont?"

The shooting didn't pick up again. That was a good sign.

"The cops—the actual good guys—are going to come barging in here any minute! If you give up now, maybe I can convince them to be lenient with you."

"Bullshit!"

"You don't believe me?" I paused, tilted my head, then pointed behind me. "Hear that?" I was still crouching, but I could see them. They shot each other nervous looks when the sound of sirens getting closer floated through the air.

The man on the left swore, shoved his gun back into the waistband of his jeans, then turned on his partner. He threw a punch and wrestled the man to the ground.

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