Page 81 of Tempting Fate

He laughs. It’s a tinny sound devoid of humour. “I dunno if I believe that since you’re so damn good at it.”

“Shut up,” I mumble.

Toker squeezes me tighter.

Together, silently, we worry about the safety of the man we both adore.

It’s been four hours since the phone call.

Four hours since I agreed to exchange myself for Fret.

And three and a half hours since my dad told me that the Maddison’s are going to retrieve my brother for us. In that time, the sun has set, the temperature has dropped, and the moon has risen. The bar is full of worried women and a couple guards while most of the brothers are hidden away in the chapel having an impromptu church session.

An hour the Maddisons said.

Yet, we’re still waiting...

Everyone’s on tenterhooks. Angst is rising. The mood is deteriorating by the second.

It feels wrong to put my trust in the mob, yet I keep praying that they’ll come through. If they can save Fret from the Bishops of Bloodshed, I’ll take back every bad thought I’ve ever had about the criminal organisation that helped pervert the justice I’m owed.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the loud rumble of Harleys permeates the air. The ornate doors to the chapel are slung open, and the brothers left behind sprint into the bar.

My father took Joker with him to meet with the Maddisons, not Zeke or any of the other hierarchy. He chose the shady dickhead tangled up with Honey to have his six as he headed into a situation where the life of his son was at risk.

Honest to God, if the man I call dad gets any fishier, he’ll end up tagged as part of a catch and release program.

“Arm yourself. We don’t trust a-one of these mob fuckers,” Slash tells his enforcers.

They grab their weapon of choice and wait for their next order.

As the new sergeant-at-arms, Slash leads the way out. He deviates, so he has to come past me, flicking my messy braid and pressing a kiss to the top of my head, before he shouts further instructions. His enforcers follow him outside, and the other brothers drop into defensive positions. They point their weapons through the windows, ready to rain down bullets if the Maddisons put a foot wrong. When I turn around to see why Zeke hasn’t emerged from the chapel, he comes up behind me. Slowing long enough to grasp my hand and squeeze it, the look he gives me is filled with earnest apology. In two minds, caught between my anger and my need for comfort, I grip his hand back, then let it go.

He trails Slash outside.

I was left with strict instructions not to leave the bar no matter what, but I don’t care.

My feet have a mind of their own.

Once I’m at the double doors, I quietly push them open a crack so I can peer out.

“Lilianna.” Charlie anxiously cautions me. “Don’t.”

“I’m just looking. Promise. I won’t go outside.”

When my father pulls into his designated parking space, I breathe a sigh of relief... until gunshots ring out, and he whirls around with his weapon drawn.

There’s a commotion. Shouts of outrage. Return fire. The squeal of wheels as the black van that had entered the yard with Dad and Joker backs up at speed and comes to an abrupt stop at the end of the driveway. The side door slides open. A roll of carpet is pushed out. Two shots are pumped into it. The vehicle careens off down the road, weaving like crazy as someone in the back slams the door shut.

It happens in an instant, yet it’s almost in slow motion.

The carpet unfurls.

A dark head that I know well comes into view.

Fret.

“He’s been fuckin’ shot in the gut.”

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