Page 53 of Red Queen (Red Thorns Crew 3)

Dani

I wrung my hands together as I paced the living room of Max’s house. I kept drawing in deep breaths trying to calm myself. Every inch of my body was hyper-focused. I felt like I could see musical notes and smell colors. The world blended and ebbed and flowed before bursting into its smallest pieces and making me even more anxious. I heard John typing away on his phone while he sat on the couch, his cane propped between his knees. And as I turned to face him, he looked up at me.

“Relax. They’ll be here,” he said.

I scoffed. “That’s what I’m worried about.”

I wiped my palms off on my jeans and rushed into the kitchen. I needed another bottle of water. My mouth felt like cotton and my stomach felt like a desert and I needed more water. More, and more, and more of it. I ripped the fridge open and reached for the bottle I had already opened. And after grabbing John one, I booked it back to the living room.

“John, I don’t know if this is such a--”

The front door crashed open and I jumped. The bottled water tumbled from my hands and crashed against my bare foot and I hissed with pain. I jumped around, trying to shake the pain out of my big toe. The front door slammed closed again and it brought me back to reality. I whipped around and gazed at the beast of a human being standing in the doorway of the living room.

Then he moved towards John.

Max’s brother stood from the couch and shook the giant’s hand. The man was clad in dark, thick leather and his boot strikes fell heavily against the carpeted floor. It felt like the entire foundation of the house creaked beneath him, groaning, and grumbling, and cursing the weight that had flooded the house. John patted the man’s arm before his eyes fell to me. And as he adjusted his jeans, he nodded at me.

“The rest are right behind me, little lady.”

I swallowed hard. “How many?”

He shrugged. “Thirty, give or take.”

I felt like I was going to pass out. The room started swirling around me as John and the giant got to talking. Their voices muffled as my ears muted themselves and my head spun on my shoulders. Thirty of them? Seriously? Were they all as massive as this man was? I didn’t remember thirty men. I remembered a handful, sure. But thirty?

A rumble off in the distance caught my ear and it forced my eyes out the window. I rushed to it, pulling back the curtain as I peered outside. John and the giant were still talking as I searched for a source of the sound. And as it grew louder and louder, I saw dots appearing on the horizon.

Dozens and dozens of black dots.

“Sounds like a lot more than thirty,” John said.

The massive man snickered. “I mean, give or take, sure.”

My jaw dropped open as the Red Thorns blazed a trail straight for Max’s place. The roar of thirty-plus motorcycle engines rattled my ribcage and pushed all other sounds out of my mind. All I knew was that roar. All I felt was its trembling sound. All I heard and all I tasted and all I smelled were those bikes.

The exhaust.

The motor oil.

The growl of gears shifting.

One by one, the men pulled up and parked. They stuffed the driveway full and pulled behind the house. Some of them parked on the curb while others took a spot right on the front lawn. I counted thirty-four bikes in all, which meant thirty-four massive brutes stacking this house from corner to corner.

I felt a hand come down against my shoulder.

“Shit!” I jumped before I whipped around and found John frowning at me.

“You have to keep your cool. If they see you panicking, they’re going to think there’s something to panic over.”

I paused. “Isn’t there something to panic over?”

He blinked. “Good point.”

By the handful, these men pushed their way into the house. With the door wide open and spitting out mounds of muscle and leather, the house quickly filled with the smell of musk, sweat, and the inside of some guy’s boots. They all nodded their heads at me before shaking John’s hand. I shoved my own hands into my pockets to keep from wringing them in front of me. They were already growing sore and red. The last thing I needed was to rub them until they blistered.

I needed a way to dispel this nervous energy, though.

A sharp whistle pierced the chaos of men and they all turned to John. He flagged them down with his free hand as he leaned against his cane with the other. Then, without a word, he beckoned to me.

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