Page 6 of Hell on Wheels

I open my mouth to argue, but Archie glares at me. “What’s your deal, dude? Rogue has friends. Why would you be upset about that?”

“Maybe because they’remyfriends?”

Five to-go cups slam on the bar and I look up in shock. Javi isn’t the type of guy to blow a fuse, but he’s giving me an angry frown. “From the minute you came into her life, Rogue was glued to your side. Your friends havealwaysbeen her friends.”

“I keep telling him to get his head out of his ass, but he seems incapable,” Archie mutters.

“Are you two finished talking about me like I’m not here? I can argue with you assholes on the way back to Flo’s with the food. I don’t want to leave Rogue alone while she’s injured.”

They both exchange a knowing look and laugh, which only irritates me more.

Morrigan, save me from my insufferable friends.

Desperado

Florissa worked quickly once she shooed the guys. She might be flaky as hell and she’s only moderately trustworthy, but she’s skilled at healing supes if you got the cash and need to keep your injuries under wraps.

My wings won’t be up to snuff for a couple of weeks. Once those bitches figured out Apollonia wasn’t getting up on her own, they focused on disabling my biggest weapon. Reb didn’t mentionher, so I assume they must have carted her off to a healer when the door flew open and they ran.

Cowards.

If I’d used my magic, I would have been able to disarm the Seelie chick. Unfortunately, as an inactive Guardian, I’m not allowed to use my entire skill set on the public. I could be called in front of the Council for the wings, as it is. My powers are classified as lethal, and I’m bound by my oath to use only what I need to survive an attack when provoked.

Just another reason for my parents to dislike me.

Wrinkling my nose at the stench of the salves Florissa applied to the delicate chitin and veins, I prop myself up and consider my options. The Sickos didn’t come after me solely because Mina had a grudge—the level of viciousness they displayed was disproportionate to a spiteful chick fight. Someone sent the entire team after me, and it had to be because Mina spilled her guts as part of her initiation.

I rack my brains, fighting the fog of painkillers to remember what I might have shared with her that would scare someone powerful enough to order a hit on a Guardian. Society business gets compartmentalized and I wouldn’t have risked my job to blab to my BFF. That conclusion leads me to believe it’s a personal confidence, and I honestly can’t imagine what in the hell it could be.

Outside of my sex life, I’m boring AF. All I do is train and skate—except on the occasions Reb lets me… oh shit.

The most dangerous thing I do is race under his flag and Mina knows about it. She’s even been in the passenger seat before, so she’s well aware of how skilled I am. Beating the hell out of mewouldn’t just take me off one set of wheels—it would change the odds for the upcoming illegal races. Besides keeping me out of the driver’s seat, vengeance for my injuries will distract the fuck out of Rebel.

That fucking bitch.

My revelation can only mean one thing: the rumors about the Sickos being backed by Stuhll Mob are true. Merra Stuhll had one of her capos tap the team to disguise a race fixing scheme, as simple as that. Since my little glamor trick is a well-guarded secret, people will assume they assaulted me in an after-hours brawl between roller derby teams. It’s happened before, and it will happen again—some insults aren’t solved on the boards.

I have to admit, their plan was brilliant. They might have succeeded in permanently removing me from the game if Reb and I hadn’t kept our mind speaking ability secret all these years. We never told our parents or any of our friends because it’s a huge strategic advantage in our Guardian duties. Telling anyone would risk losing one of the rarest powers a supe can develop, and we decided that was a chance we weren’t willing to take.

Frowning, I pick at my nails as I ponder my theories. Even with the addition of the street racing purse, what happened to me seems like using a nuke to drive a nail. Merra could have disqualified Reb without batting a lash—all she would have needed was Mina’s testimony. It wouldn’t have exposed the Mob’s involvement with the Sickos; people would have believed that she did it to spite me.

So why go to the effort of trying to take me out?

There must be a bigger puzzle piece I'm missing.

The Stuhlls control a good portion of the city, but they have rivals. Is it possible that their illegal sports activity and their protection racket are tied together? Are they using Roadrunner Racing to fund a hostile takeover of another family’s territory? I wouldn’t put it past Merra to muscle her way into one of the other less savory rackets in Bay City. She’s ruthless, and her utter lack of empathy would make it easy to order her goons to wipe out a competitor’s entire family.

I keep turning it over in my mind until the medication finally knocks me out.

“Hey! Get out of the way!”

“No, I’m going first.”

“Fuck you, dude. You’ve both hadyears.”

“She’s mysister.”

My eyes flutter open as loud voices echo off the walls of the hallway and penetrate the sleep haze I was drifting in.Somany people and they’resodamned loud.Whyare they all shouting?

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