Page 58 of Damascus & The Wildfire
Deafening silence filled our ears. No more gunshots. No shouts. None of the chaos I’d expect in a firefight.
After ten minutes, heavy boots thuddeddown the hall. Haven gripped the small pistol in her hand, peeking around the desk. The handle rattled as the person behind the door began to unlock it.
“You can come out,” Merrick said as he opened the door. “You’re safe.”
Haven stood, running and throwing herself into Jaguar’s arms.
“What happened?” I asked, my voice shakier than I’d expected.
Merrick’s gaze skimmed over me before he shrugged. “Drive-by, but we’re not sure yet who the target was. Hopefully, Linc can find out more from the camera.”
He was so nonchalant, like drive-by shootings occurred every day.
“We’re going to get on the road,” Serpent said. “I don’t want Haven caught in the crossfire. Thanks for meeting with us. We’ll be in touch.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Thane called Church at the ass-crack of dawn. I hauled ass on my bike to make it on time, regretting the five vodka and Redbulls I’d drunk the night before and the lumpy couch I’d crashed on.
“Glad you could roll out from under whatever blonde you found last night to join us,” Merrick jabbed as he stared into my bloodshot eyes in Thane’s office.
I shook my head but didn’t respond. I’d gone out the night before, intending to do precisely what he’d suggested. But my heart just wasn’t in it, and I found myself too buzzed to drive home, yet too distracted to fall into bed with anyone—though I’d had plenty of offers.
Chasing tits and ass, trading names I wouldn’t remember, waking up in someone else’s bed and sneaking out before she woke—it was all starting to feel hollow. Thirty-three shouldn’t feel old, but something inside me was shifting. Maybe I was growing out of one-night stands. Or perhaps it was the pint-sized redhead who I couldn’t get out of my mind.
Reaper strolled into the room with our president close behind.Thane kicked the door shut, the impact vibrating the small display of souvenirs he’d picked up on the road over the years.
“So, we have no fucking idea who shot up the club,” he roared.
Merrick flicked his gaze to Reaper, then to me. We all knew that tone. Thane’s temper was legendary, and none of us wanted to draw attention until he calmed down.
Linc spoke up from the corner, spreading his hands open and speaking evenly like he approached a rabid rottweiler. “The evidence points to the Jackals. The shooter was on a street bike, not a Harley. So it’s unlikely to be one of our rivals or the Riot’s. The clubhouse is far enough from the road that we know it wasn’t random. We’re on to them, and they know it.”
The air crackled for a breath, everyone watching to see who or what Thane would burn next. Instead, his rage dissipated as quickly as it appeared. He slid into his chair and lit a smoke, taking a deep drag before speaking.
“We should scale back the Memorial Day barbecue and take precautions moving forward,” Thane said. “I don’t want anyone here who you wouldn’t personally vouch for. And I want men at the gates around the clock. Only members and old ladies get through. Anyone else needs approval from me.”
I held back a groan. The club hadn’t required guards in years. Rotating men at the gates twenty-four-seven was a duty that would fall to Merrick and me. It was a shit detail. We hardly had enough prospects to fill out the schedule. The fully patched members wouldn’t want to volunteer as guards for the long, boring shifts, and those who did without complaint would be grouchy as hell after an all-nighter. And we’d be the bad guys for enforcing a fair rotation. Still, I kept my mouth shut and nodded.
As Merrick droned on about how he planned to divide up guard duty, my mind wandered to Kenna. I caught myself thinking about her at the oddest moments, and I started to wonder if it was a sign. I needed to make a move before it was too late. Before another man swooped inand I lost my chance. I’d been waiting, biding my time until she gave me some sort of indication she wanted more than friendship. But, if I was honest, what I was really waiting for was the feeling that I was ready to stop chasing after meaningless hookups and settle down with someone who wasn’t afraid to call me on my bullshit. Someone like her.
Kenna was bright, fun, and goddamn it, she was beautiful. Sure, she had baggage, but who didn’t? None of us was getting out of life without damaged edges. Since I’d met her nearly two months ago, I’d watched her shift. That sharp-edged sadness she wore around her eyes had faded. It still crept in sometimes, when she thought no one was watching, but more often she smiled and laughed now like she’d let go of some of that grief she’d wrapped around herself like a security blanket. And, the more time I spent with her, the more I realized I was shifting as well.
“Does that work for you?” Merrick asked, breaking me out of my thoughts. Shit, I’d zoned out.
“Sure,” I said, having no idea what I’d agreed to.
Merrick narrowed his eyes. He knew I’d been in my head and would give me shit for it later, but never in front of Thane. His loyalty kept him from putting my neck on the chopping block when our president was in one of his moods.
“Then it’s settled. Hatchet will cover the club while Thane, Reaper, and I handle the sitdown with Riot and the Fort Worth Mafia. We’ll sort out the route to minimize the risk.”
Damn it. I’d unknowingly volunteered to play guard dog while the guys rode through the desert.
Too late to counter now, though. I’d made my bed. But maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if I could find a way to get Kenna in it too.
Chapter Twenty-Two
While a Memorial Day barbecue at the clubhouse had sounded fun, Eva and I had decided to skip out in favor of a movie marathon. We’d managed to talk Reaper into bringing us plates of pulled pork, smoked brisket, and baked beans while he and his brothers enjoyed a party without worrying about whether we’d find ourselves in the line of fire if another drive-by occurred.
