Page 101 of Baby for the Bikers

He’s right. Despite everything, despite the bruises and the fear and the life he forced on me, I can’t pull the trigger. He’s a monster, but he’s my monster. My blood.

But I don’t need to kill him to win.

I aim lower and fire, the bullet tearing through his thigh. He roars in pain, collapsing to the floor.

“That’s for Emma,” I tell him, moving toward the door. “And the name is Rowan now.”

Gunfire echoes from the main floor below, punctuated by shouts and running feet.

I slip into the hallway, gun ready, moving as Dad taught me—cover to cover, checking corners, staying low.

Two Vipers round the stairwell. I drop the first with a shot to the knee, duck the return fire, and take out the second with a bullet to the shoulder. Non-lethal, but effective.

These men were my family once. I won’t kill them if I don’t have to.

Smoke fills the main floor as I reach the stairs. Through the haze, I spot familiar figures—Teller’s crew engaging with Vipers on the far side, Brick directing the assault from behind a forklift. Controlled chaos, a carefully orchestrated attack.

A Viper rushes me from the side. I pivot, using his momentum to send him crashing down the stairs before continuing my descent.

Blood drips from a cut on my forehead, soaking my shirt as I reach the main floor. I take cover behind a concrete pillar, assessing what’s before me.

Three Vipers corner a Black Wolves member near the loading bay. I pick off two with careful shots, giving him the opening to take down the third. He nods in thanks before disappearing into the smoke.

More explosions rock the building’s far side. I move toward the center of the fighting, gun raised, looking for a path out—or a Kane brother to find.

Maddox appears through the smoke like an avenging angel, taking down a Viper with a vicious right hook. His eyes sweep the warehouse, searching, desperate. Searching for me.

“Maddox!” I call, my voice nearly lost in the cacophony.

He spins, eyes going wide as he spots me. Relief, shock, and something fiercer flash across his face as he takes in my bloodied appearance, the gun in my hand.

Then he’s running toward me, cutting through the battle like it’s nothing. I meet him halfway, nearly colliding in our rush to reach each other.

“You’re hurt,” he growls, fingers brushing my bloodied forehead.

“Not my blood. Not mostly.” I glance around. “Where’s my sister?”

“She’s safe. One of the Cross brothers’ people got her out.” His eyes scan my face. “You good to move?”

My sister is safe. One less thing to worry about. “Look, I’m really sorry about all?—”

“No, princess,” he cuts me off. “We’ll deal with that later. Let’s end this first.” He presses a quick, fierce kiss to my lips before turning back toward the fight.

I follow, gun ready, a smile tugging at my lips despite the chaos surrounding us. My father never understood what he created in me—a survivor, a fighter, a woman who would burn the world down to protect what she loves.

42

BRICK

“East entrance clear!”The report crackles through my earpiece as another explosion rocks the warehouse. “Moving to sector three.”

I duck behind the forklift, checking my ammo. Four rounds left, one spare clip. Enough for what comes next.

“Copy that,” I respond, signaling to Teller across the warehouse floor. “Drive them toward the loading bay. Ryder, status?”

“Upper floor secured,” my brother’s voice comes through. “Cypher’s down but alive. Rowan’s work.”

Pride surges through me at those words. Rowan took down her own father. The woman never stops surprising me.

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