Page 14 of Falling in Reverse

Torin suddenly eases up on my hair before fully letting go and takes a small step backward. Then suddenly jerks his head, giving me silent permission to take off.

I stare at him for the briefest of seconds, in shock that he’s letting me go, then think better of standing around waiting for an answer.

I’m not going to question him.

Wasting no time with the window of opportunity, I stride back toward the driver’s side, running right into the other dude with onyx hair. Longer at the top, running all the way past his eyes, it’s faded along the sides. His earlobes are gauged out and his colorless, almost black eyes study me like he couldn’t give a fuck if I was manhandled or not. His strong jaw is hard—I would know because I hit it—and peppered in dark stubble.

“Make sure you ice that,” I inform him, before rounding his body and quickly getting back into the van before one of them changes their mind.

Throwing the still-running vehicle in drive, I move around their illegally parked truck and head to my delivery spot.

I need to call Levi to tell him I’m running a tad bit late.

Because, if I’m only a minute behind, he’s going to freak.

And I’ll be leaving everything else out about my family reunion with his rival.

FOUR

bay

The loud pop and squealing of tires sounds over the eight dirt bikes ahead of me. They’re careful not to get swiped by the 18-wheeler that just had some of its wheels blown out as Levi sits calmly in the passenger seat, eyes intently locked on the marked semi like prey being waved in front of his face.

We follow behind, waiting for it to slow down on the dark two-lane road we’re on so that we can take what we came for.

Guns.

Ammo.

And God knows what else.

All on route to the Forsaken Crew with one problem—it’s cruisin’ through South Shore like it really had a probability to make it out of here.

I wasn’t supposed to go on this run, said I wasn’t going to, but I’m still a tad amped up on my run-in with Torin.

After our reunion, I had no other issues that came up. I dropped off the dope, collected the money, and went home the right way.

So, on that note, I’m taking the chance of Sheriff Muncy popping our asses for reckless driving, theft, and maybe attempted murder.

The dude’s a fucking asshole so I’m sure there’d be more if he caught up.

As soon as the semi gets to a rolling fifteen miles an hour, the back gates burst open and so does the gunfire.

I pull the Toyota Supra I’m driving to the left, just as one of the doors slams back shut into the faces of the men protecting the guns.

“Stay in the car,” Levi orders, the moment I whip the car around, bringing the backend squealing in protest to meet the rear of the giant truck.

Stepping on the gas in reverse now, I get closer, pending the final stop of the big rig. When it does, I stomp on the brake and hit the gas, beginning my burn out so that I can smoke the dudes inside out, keep their vision disabled while our guys get a handle on the driver.

An eruption of blind gunfire immediately begins striking the polyurethane material of the Supra as Levi’s large palm pushes the back of my skull down to take cover.

“You’re fucking insane,” he carps out, but there’s no malice behind it because it’s pretty damn genius and might give us the upper hand in this already risky scenario.

The high pitch of my tires fuels my adrenaline, keeping my feet perfectly still on the brake and gas.

A bullet suddenly rips through the back window, shattering glass through the car, and Levi curses.

“Let off, Bay.”

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