Page 21 of Falling in Reverse

My best friend grunts. “Whatever, man. Keep talkin’ about whatever you were talkin’ about. Maybe I can gain the quarter of my brain I’m missin’.”

“I’m not sure I could use that small of words for you to understand.” Another burst of uncontrollable chortling fills my throat as Travis joins me at the expense of the muscled and tattooed man on our shipping container who could nail any chick this side of the Mississippi.

“You’re both fuckin’ assholes,” Levi grumbles, cramming more crinkle fries in his mouth and overlooking the boys doing their thing. “I don’t even know why I came up here.”

“We don’t either,” I add on, causing Travis to begin choking on his burger at his continued laughing. I pat his back as Levi glares in our direction.

“He’s not as nice as he seems, Bay,” my best friend grumbles with a glower. “He’s choking because it’s karma.”

“He’s choking because the shit’s funny.”

“I feel slightly betrayed by you, Travis. I thought you’d have my back and—” A loud popping and crackling of what sounds to be fireworks slices through the rest of Levi’s heartfelt comment and he’s immediately put into war mode. “Shit, the fucking Forsaken Crew is back.”

“What?” My heart slams into my chest, thrown off by the new arrival and into my peace as Levi’s already pushing himself back by the bottom of his heels.

“Fall back,” he roars out to his men below, then mutters sourly, “Motherfucker…”

“What’s going on?” Travis solicits, and he can’t hide the tremble in his voice.

And I can’t stop the anxiety coursing through every nerve ending in my body.

“Torin fucking Wildes is down there.”

My whole body suddenly freezes, and I don’t know when or what triggers in my brain to finally move, but I instinctively grab Travis’s hand and scoot backward, getting us into the center of the shipping container and away from any stray bullets. “Get on your stomach.”

Levi spews out another string of curses under his breath, standing along the edge of the metal box like Batman, about to swoop down and take out the crime in Gotham.

Except this is South Shore, always at war with our northern rivals.

And I don’t want to come face-to-face with Torin Wildes again. I’ve seen what he can do. I’ve experienced how angry he can become. I know how fixated he can become on something or someone.

I just can’t.

“Levi,” I whisper-yell. “How the hell are they back here?”

“Must’ve taken out the scouts,” he leers back at me over his shoulder. “I had three guys out there.”

Oh my God, fuck.

“Should I get Bay home?” Travis asks, reaching for my hand, and I’m not sure if it’s for his sole benefit or both of ours, but I appreciate it, anyway.

Levi shakes his head, getting to his haunches. “Stay here, don’t move. Don’t say a fucking word, Travis, you hear me? You keep her here. No one is going to be looking for you this high up.”

A few shouts of what sounds like Juice shouting fills my ears and my focus slices to the edge of the container where we were just sitting. It echoes like a mess out there, guns going off every few seconds, orders being yelled out, my nerves pricking at my skin because my friends are down there.

“If you don’t hear me announce myself before coming back up here,” Levi continues. “It means it’s not me.” A Glock shows up in front of Travis. “Shoot the fucker.”

“Lev…I don’t know?—”

“Just aim.” Levi begins to slowly push himself back to the side of the container to get off. “You got this. It’s time and space and shit.”

I roll my eyes because that’s not helpful, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen Travis hold a gun in my life.

Grabbing the weapon, I try to ease back Travis’s fear of having to protect me and the guilt that I feel for bringing him down here in the first place. Especially since we’re sitting ducks with a bunch of illegal guns that weren’t ours to begin with.

“I got us, Trav,” I tell him softly as Levi disappears. “Don’t worry.”

He steers his frightened expression at me. “Bay…what if they saw us?”

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