Page 64 of Taking What's Ours

I begin to shake, convinced it’s going to be a bloodbath. They’ve got Baja outnumbered, and I don’t know what to do.

“Now what are you gonna do, you fucking Royal Bastard piece of shit?” the man with Baha’s gun to his head taunts.

“I may be outnumbered, but your body’s my shield, and before they take me out, I’m putting a bullet in your brain, you fucking punk. You ready to go to your grave right now?”

The man licks his lips and swallows. “You won’t do it. We’re in broad daylight.”

“I’m a fucking Royal Bastard, remember? You think I give a fuck? We own this goddamn town. Now tell your buddies to put away their pistols, get on your fucking bikes, and ride away. I’ll even give you a head start to get the fuck out of this county before my crew hunts you down.”

The man motions for the other two to comply. “Do what he says, man.”

Time stands still as they consider it, then finally lower their weapons and head to their bikes. I lift my phone and take a video as they ride past the pickup and roar down the road.

Baja keeps his gun on them. I notice the patches on the back of their jackets.Rat Boys,but there are no territory rockers like the Royal Bastards’ cuts.

Baja jogs to the truck, climbs in, and cups my face. “You okay?”

I nod. “Who were they?”

“Punk club out of Utah. Nothing for you to worry about. They’re gone.”

“I took a video of them. Maybe I got their plates.”

“Fantastic, honey. Send it to me.” He calls Trez as he barrels out of the lot, heading the same direction.

“Are we following them?” I shriek, terrified of another confrontation.

Baja shakes his head, then turns at a road half a mile down. He talks into the phone. “Just had a run in with the Rat Boys. Yeah, right at the gas station. No, we’re headed your way. I’m dropping off Elaina. Call Rock.”

Then he hangs up and drives like a bat out of hell until he fishtails into the gravel driveway of a pretty log home. A cloud of dust surrounds the vehicle, and Baja vaults out the truck door as Trez emerges from the house onto the big porch and dashes down the steps.

I push my own door open as they talk, and Isabella runs over to me.

She clasps my hands. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

She wraps an arm around my shoulders. “You don’t look fine. Let’s get inside.”

The place is open concept with high ceilings and exposed rafters. A big granite island and kitchen are in front of us, with dining and living area to the left and sliders out to a big deck. Everything is in a pretty light gray, and even the stone fireplace is light stone. It’s bright and airy. Any other time, I’d be complimenting Isabella on their pretty home, but right now I’m too preoccupied from the encounter.

Within ten minutes, the club roars up the drive.

We watch out the window as the men talk, then Trez and Baja bolt up the steps and enter the house.

Baja heads straight to me.

“I’ve got to go with the club. I’ll be back to get you. Rock’s leaving one of the prospects here to make you feel better.

“A prospect?” I ask.

“He’s armed, and he’ll lay his life down to protect you. I promise you that. Besides, these assholes have no clue where Trez and Isabella live.”

“Why did they do that?”

“I’m thinking they saw the sticker on the back of my truck with our emblem.”

“The skull with the crown,” I whisper.

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