Page 37 of Tempting Fate

The real question is what side our president will fall on when it starts.

“Well then.” Fret breaks the silence with a snarl that doesn’t bode well for Alex when we get our hands on him. “Pull it in, brothers.”

The six of us—me, Slash, Toker, Cub, Isaiah, and Fret—form a circle and thrust one hand, palm down, into the middle.

“Brotherhood ’til death,” I declare. “Deal the devil all-in. Only death deals out.”

“Brotherhood ’til death.” My brothers repeat the Shamrocks creed back to me in unison. “Deal the devil all-in. Only death deals out.”

“Brotherhood and our little Cherub ’til death,” Slash adds. When our gazes lock across the huddle, my best friend shrugs. “She’s one of us, Venom.”

“Always has been,” Hunter adds.

Fret’s gaze shines, the muscle in his jaw working overtime, and he nods harshly.

With a chin lift, I repeat Slash’s sentiment. “Brotherhood and our little Cherub. Deal the devil all-in. Only death deals out.”

Our battle cry resonates around the garage as we strap on our bullet-proof vests, sync up our audio communication, and arm ourselves to the teeth. It echoes even louder in my head as Cub sends through the layout of the house to our phones and we quickly come up with a strategy to surround the house then simultaneously breach it from multiple angles. With Cub’s assurance that he’ll have the power cut by the time we get there sustaining my belief in our plan, I follow my brothers as we split into two groups and we pile into two of the blacked-out vans the Shamrocks use for jobs that call for a little more subtlety than the rumble of Harley pipes.

I’m on autopilot when we arrive at the house where my woman is being held captive.

It’s ordinary looking.

Offering no signs of the depraved soul hiding out inside.

I crouch down behind a bush in the front yard with Slash.

Toker slips off into the dusk to act as our sniper.

Hunter, Fret, and Isaiah make quick work of the back-up generator, draining it of diesel and ripping a bunch of hoses out, just to be on the safe side. They radio that it’s done, then take up their designated positions covering the back exits. The confirmation comes from Cub that he’s cut the power seconds after the house falls into darkness.

“Let’s go.”

Slash nods, then he surges forward. I take his six, handgun drawn, semiautomatic rifle slung across my body. Grinding my teeth, I hold back while I wait for his all-clear to head around the corner after him. Once he waves me forward, I follow, uneasy in the role of VP after spending the past few years as a Shamrocks enforcer.

We repeat the same manoeuvre at the next junction.

As Slash moves ahead, I watch his back and wait for his signal.

“Aw, hell no.” The humour in Slash’s voice stops me in my tracks just as I round the corner. Being behind him, I can’t see what’s got him biting back laughter at a time like this and I’m about to tell him to get his shit together when he plants his hands on his hips and shakes his head. “Way to destroy my saviour complex, little Cherub.”

The moment he says Lily’s nickname, I’m on the move. I close the distance between us, reaching him at the same time as he carries my woman around the side of the house. Her hair is wild, and she’s wearing a pair of men’s boxer shorts and a wife-beater. Her face is a mess of swelling and bruises. She pushes against Slash’s chest, dropping back to her feet when she sees me. There’s a clear limp hitching her stride as she heads for me. A bite mark bleeds on her neck, her earlobe is torn with similar teeth marks, and the gun she clutches to her chest isn’t hers.

Despite the obvious damage, my eyes eat up the sight of her, and relief engulfs me.

Lily’s okay.

I might’ve failed her, but she saved herself.

My feet have a mind of their own, covering the rest of the path in a rush, and I gather her in a bear hug. Lily’s arms immediately close around my neck, her thighs wrap tight around my hips when I lift her in the air. Heart racing, I hold her in an iron grip as I rush out of the yard to the closest van.

Through my earpiece, I hear Toker’s voice. “We’re inside. Back door was already open. Place is empty… rear gate is ajar. Think we missed ’em.”

“Shit.” Slash unclips the receiver attached to his shoulder to bark an order at Lily’s cousin. “Wait there, I’m comin’ to you now.”

“No,” Lily whimpers. She buries her face in my neck, her next words muffled. “He was there. I-I… I shot him.”

The despair in her voice hurts my heart. Failure hollows out my stomach. I wrench open the sliding door to the van and climb inside. My arms refuse to let her go, so I settle in the seat with Lily on my lap. After I pull the semiautomatic over my head and drop it onto the seat behind us, she snuggles against my chest again. I hold her tight while trembling racks her body and she hides her face in the crook of my neck to sob silently.

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