Page 66 of Beautifully Reckless

Jared Crowley, Abbey’s other childhood friend, and a Marx crew lackey.

He’s got a fucking chip on his shoulder, and even though he glares at me as he steps up to my girl and whispers somethingin her ear, I can appreciate his protectiveness. He cares enough to give a fuck, and that’s exactly the type of people Abbey needs in her life.

I don’t have to be a genius to know he’s promising my death if I hurt her as he whispers in her ear. Whatever he says makes Abbey snort and she slaps his shoulder playfully, before they share a knowing smile and she turns her attention to the girls.

While Rhys hugs Abbey, I glance at my phone, checking there’s no new threat headed our way.

Since my MC split up last night, JD has been feeding info to Smitty and Spud, who put spotters out on the streets. They are loyal to our club, some hang-arounds plus some of Riggs’ security from the Marx crew.

Meanwhile, some of my club brothers are flying under the radar in our tradie vans, spying on the local police stations, watching to see if Officer Allen shows his ugly fucking mug.

That’s how we know they’re gearing up for a raid. But Allen is a slippery bastard. We can’t be too careful.

“Thanks, Dee,” Abbey says quietly, gaining my attention.

The little assassin who doesn’t fucking say a word smiles and hands Abbey something.

A knife.

It’s a butterfly knife, and Dee shows her quickly how to flick it open, and close it again.

The way Dee demonstrates it is efficient and deadly, but when Abbey tries, it’s sloppy and untrained.

I have a right fucking mind to take it off Abbey so she doesn’t end up stabbing herself, but that can wait. The last thing I need right now is a group of fucking teen protestors snapping at me.

Lexi is last to hug Abbey, and it’s one of those long, lingering hugs you feel long after it’s over.

I know that feeling. Feel it every time I visit my ma and have to leave again. And fuck, saying goodbye to Abbey would be the same.

Maybe worse.

The second they break apart, I’ve got Abbey’s hand in mine, dragging her out of the apartment and rushing us into the lift.

“You’re scaring me.” She clutches the strap of her backpack, so I take it from her and hand her a leather jacket.

It’s one we keep handy for Jols, which for some fucking reason, JD had with him.

Makes me wonder what’s really going on between those two.

“Sorry, Angel. Just wanna get you out of the city as fast as possible.”

She nods, but there’s still a crease in her brow as she lets me slide the jacket over her arms, adjusting it as best I can over her growing bump.

“Is someone picking us up?” she asks, glancing at the floor numbers descending on the screen.

“No. JD is down in the garage waiting. We’re riding out together.”

“Riding?” Her gaze snaps to mine, wide and full of panic. “Like… on your motorcycle?”

“Yeah.” I nod, jaw tight, hating how fucking slow this lift is.

“I—That’s—No. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

I raise a brow, watching her stumble over her own panic, and finally the lift dings open.

“We don’t have a choice,” I deadpan, grabbing her hand and the backpack before pulling her into the garage.

JD is already there, bike rumbling low, and he tosses me the spare helmet he usually keeps for Jols.

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