Page 94 of Frenemies

That’s when another man walked into the room. This one was a lot cleaner and wearing a black Gilly suit? What the fuck?

He cocked a brow at Logan. “There’s something wrong with you.”

I couldn’t help but agree with him. Stable was the last word anyone would use to describe Logan Hudson. Hell, Ava had more sense in her head than he did.

“What? This?” Logan held up the severed fingers in his hand and shrugged. “Asshole gave me the finger, so I took his.”

My eyes narrowed on the other guy when he shook his head. Why did he seem familiar?

“Well, come on.”

New Guy waved the rifle in his hands at the door, then stopped and stared at Bailey so intently that Bailey reared back from him. The next second, he ducked out the door and was gone for a few seconds before coming back with a shirt that he tossed at Bailey with a simple, “Here.”

Using her fingers, Bailey carefully picked up the fabric and stared down at it with a knit brow. “It’s covered in blood.”

“So?”

The scary part was how undisturbed New Guy was. He saw absolutely nothing wrong with putting on a shirt covered in someone else’s bodily fluids, and he wanted her to put it on. He stood there staring at her, waiting.

It was creepy. So much so that when I stood up, it wasn’t to walk out of the room. It was to lean over and mutter, “Put on the damn shirt Bailey.”

“Can we go now?” Logan tipped his head towards the gunfire outside. “There’s more killing to be done.”

My mind instantly went to the fight echoing through the air and the person who brought it to Ashen Springs docks. Chase was out there, putting himself in danger for me.

Tanner raised his hand from the corner. “A little help.”

The last thing I heard as I rushed out the door was Logan sing, “Shit, who fucked you up.”

I no longer cared about Tanner, Mother, or if Bailey was going to freak out again. All I wanted to do was see my man. I needed to know he was okay. Relief wasn’t what I got when I made it to the top of the boat.

There were bodies all over the place. Some Reapers were still fighting while others had surrendered, but none of them mattered.

The only group I could see was the small band of about seven men by the green ice cream parlor on the docks. Chase was behind a mailbox with his arm thrown over the top. The Glock in his hand was aimed directly at his brother.

My heart lurched when Jax turned his eyes Chase’s way and smiled. Jax wouldn’t have a problem pulling the trigger, but Chase? I could see the turmoil in his face from here. That’s when my gaze dropped to the dead man at my feet and the pistol next to him.

Very few things could get my blood pumping, like the feeling of the wind in my hair with the purr of an engine between my legs. Naomi Prescott was one of those things.

With one upturned glance, she’d have me ready to both bend her over and tear my own hair out. So when I say Snake and I led a group around the building and opened fire on every motherfucker we could see, I meant it.

Jax, best be prepared. This time it wasn’t Chase or Spider coming for him. It was both. And he wasn’t leaving without the woman who made him whole. This time I’d be the one that lit the world on fire.

I rode down the street and pumped bullets into the boardwalk, not caring who I hit. All I saw were Reaper patches and other assholes in my way. Each of whom had a big red target on their head. If I had to walk through the gates of hell to see that bitchy smile on Naomi’s face, then so be it.

No one was ever going to take what was mine again.

Reapers returned fire and ducked for cover as another group came around the south side, led by Keenan. He unloaded his own rounds with the same intensity in his face as I had written all over mine. A brief glance passed between us before he rounded the corner and headed down the street.

Their targets were the men on the loading docks where Preston was already popping shots off. Our destination was the little ice cream parlor the Mayor and my brother were hiding in, which we were less than a block from when a bright flash of fire caused me to veer to the right.

“My bad!” Mason, Micha Kessler’s little brother, yelled while he lit the end of another Molotov cocktail.

Beast just shook his head at me as I rode past the little alley they were tucked in.

The distraction was brief, no more than a second or two, but it was enough. My brother stepped out of the ice cream parlor and popped off a shot right into my front tire. I had no choice but to jump off my hog when it squealed to the right.

I’d barely come out of my roll before bullets rained down, ticking into the ground. If it weren’t for Snake leading the guys into a slithering row of hogs, weaving back and forth like a snake, I’d have been hit. Instead, I was able to find cover behind a mailbox.

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