Page 46 of Jax

Tension was a maelstrom in the air as we sat at the rear of the group, watching Wolf stand at the forefront, twenty yards ahead, with Lamb and Hunter at his back. One of my hands ran along the smooth surface of the butt of my gun, holstered in the side of my jeans, safety off, while the other kept a firm grasp on the key plugged into the engine of my bike. She sat between my legs, ready to start her vibrant purr at a moment’s notice.

Escape or fight. I was ready for either.

I went over the plan of escape in my head for the ten-billionth time since we’d entered this shady area. As road captain, I was to lead my brothers straight out of any hellhole and to safety as fast as possible. I knew the roads of this nameless town like the back of my hand and had tabs on locations that could be used as a hideout or cover if things went south.

“Chill out, Jax,” Ripper grunted from next to me.

The bleaching spotlight above the empty airfield did nothing to dull the frightening horror of his scarred face, distorting his right eye and lip. No brother wore the word menacing as well as Ripper did. The enforcer’s huge shoulders hunkered back, as if carefree, but the shadow cast by his overhanging brow couldn’t hide the deep frown on his face as his eyes scanned the lot.

“Don’t say that when you’re clearly on edge too,” I growled back. “Can’t fool me, brother.”

“I wasn’t trying to.” Ripper shrugged. “But being trigger happy ain’t gonna help much if you start shooting before this deal is over.” He gestured to my hand, wrapped around the handle of my favorite revolver. My Springfield 1911A1. While nothing quite compared to the homely feel of my shotgun I stored at the ranch (which Ronnie had almost blown my head off with a few days ago), my pistol allowed the accuracy and that rustic military feel that almost felt traditional as I blew people’s heads to smithereens. Right through the eye if possible. Less messy.

“I don’t like it,” I grunted, loosening my fingers but not removing my hand.

Ripper’s chuckle made Mint besides me jump as he looked toward him with confusion.

“Jesus Christ, Jax,” Ripper snorted. “You’re just like my boy, you know.”

“I hope not,” I huffed. “Your kid is a little shit.”

“He’s working through some issues.” Ripper shrugged, sobering up almost like the flick of a switch. Mint looked between us, baffled at our casual conversation. Newbie still had a lot to learn, patch or no patch. “He’s going to high school in the fall, so he’ll be getting over it soon.”

“Yeah, let’s hope.” I sighed.

As I spoke the words, I saw a lone set of headlights across the dark end of the lot. The tension in the air crackled, standing the six brothers we brought with us to attention.

“Be wary but not eager, brother,” Ripper imparted to both the newbie and me alike. They were wise words I hoped to keep as my hand retightened around my gun as the truck pulled to a stop a few feet from where Wolf and his backups stood.

A light rain began to patter on the leather of my shoulders.

The truck’s engine cut out, and both doors swung open. The blinding white headlights were like a beacon, elongating our shadows across the empty lot as our group of six became eight.

Two men stepped out. By the longer sleeve, fancy zips, and Italian cut of their leather jackets, it was easy to tell they were a brand of Mafia, as far away from MC as you could get in our world.

The difference was well-known between both parties, as the tension in the air thickened with a growing wind. It pushed at my back as I watched our guests’ jackets billow, revealing a flash of metal tucked into their waist bands. It didn’t surprise me, but it didn’t help my tension either.

Wolf stood tall, the giant man dwarfing his business counterparts and allies alike as he faced the two men alone. Hunter and Lamb stayed stationary as Wolf stepped forward, but with Hunter’s equally large size and Lamb’s quick wit, I knew they could keep our president safe even at a distance.

We were too far back to hear, but as Wolf exchanged hands with one man, giving a curt nod, the deal was over at last, just as the rain began to pick up too. If they had taken any longer, I would have had to—

BANG.

My engine roared to life in the echo of the sniper’s gunshot, screaming in my ears as the first body dropped. One of the Mafia members’ brain splattered across the shattered window of his truck and all over my president.

Wolf lunged, grabbing the dead man’s friend and turning toward us, unharmed and pissed as hell. The man was white as a sheet as Wolf dragged him over to his bike before tossing him toward Lamb.

“JAX!” Wolf yelled. I snapped up straight, knowing already what my orders were.

Rubber burned through the air, water spraying up behind me, my wheels giving a wild screech. My hands grasped onto the handles of my bike, my deadliest weapon, and I surged forward, countless engines roaring to life at my unspoken command.

I heard gunfire following behind us, not directed at me, but near where Lamb was riding, the mafia guy riding bitch behind him as he hightailed it behind us. I didn’t ignore it but instead turned my attention on doing my best to keep my eye on the road, the sheen of water making corners and quick turns that much more difficult as we raced to the exit of the airfield.

Cutting past the open metal gate, we flew out onto the open roads.

I couldn’t be sure where the sniper was positioned, the gunfire having fallen quiet as we flew out onto the deserted town roads. My fists tightened on my brakes, falling back into the fold as my brothers raced up alongside me, forming a diamond formation with me spearheading and Lamb falling in the center.

There was a chance the sniper had given up, or we were out of sight, but our priority was safety, and securing the one mafia member we had in our grasp. But the longer we drove, I knew there were little to no men that could make that far of a shot.

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