Page 15 of Queen of Anarchy (Dirty Broken Savages 2)

Time to go, then.

As if he’s had the exact same thought as me, Gage turns, putting his back to the president. But Priest and Knox watch the man, making sure there aren’t any sudden moves.

“Let’s go,” Gage says, jerking his head toward the door we came in.

Everyone falls in line at his order, and even I walk along with them, filing out of the clubhouse with the eyes of all the gathered members on us. No one speaks or even breathes too loud until the door is shut behind us, and then it feels like shrugging off a weighted blanket as the heavy tension eases all of a sudden.

I’m still pissed about that dick hole putting his hands on me, but it’s behind us now. We got the info we needed, and we made it out alive.

“So they don’t know anything,” Priest says, his voice so cool that you’d never guess that he had a gun pointed at his face not that long ago.

“Yea, it seems that way,” Gage agrees. “I don’t think he’s a good enough liar to bullshit about that. And if they had something that big on us, then they wouldn’t have been so twitchy about the shit with Derrek. Besides, if they had left that message for us, we just gave them the perfect opening to try to blackmail us or make whatever demands they wanted, and they didn’t. They’re clear.”

“So we’re back to where we started,” Ash muses. “With no leads and no clue who did it or why.”

“Super. This was a really fun field trip, guys,” I mutter under my breath, but he doesn’t even acknowledge me.

Knox cracks his knuckles, seemingly more for something to do with his hands than as any kind of threat. “Still a long list of people who could be involved,” he says. “I mean, Ivan had a lot of allies. People who he conned into working for him, people who thought he was gonna take them to the top with him. Any of them could be out for revenge if they know we killed him.”

“There’s the cartel, too,” Gage points out. “What a fucking mess.”

Shit. I almost forgot about them. Back when I was still trying to kill Ivan St. James, I accidentally shot a cartel leader who had set up a meeting with him, and then Priest killed a few of his guards when they came after me. I feel sort of bad for killing the guy when he wasn’t my intended target, although I’m sure if I found out more about him, I could find plenty of reasons why he deserved to die.

As we all pile back into the car and head back to the house, the guys keep talking, but they’re just going in circles, same as last night. Every time we talk about this, that’s how it always ends up going. We don’t have enough information, and it’s not like we can barge into every criminal headquarters in Detroit and start asking questions.

I’m on edge, clenching and unclenching my fingers into fists in my lap while I listen to them talk it over and over and over. There are too many fucking questions. And not just about Ivan, either. He’s the big thing on their minds right now, but I can’t stop thinking about that ghost-like glimpse I think I got of my sister.

There was a time, after Hannah died and I was finally released from captivity, where I thought I saw her everywhere. I don’t know if it was my brain still coming to terms with the fact that I was never going to see her again or what, but I would sometimes catch sight of someone with hair like hers or a smile like hers, and I would whip around, hope leaping in my heart.

It was stupid back then, because I watched her die. They killed her in front of me, so I knew there was no way she could be any of those girls I saw. But the grief and guilt that ate away at my soul made that fact hard to internalize.

Even so, the last time I thought I saw her was years ago, and I was pretty sure I’d gotten over that.

So what does it mean that I saw her at that gala? Was it just her memory being too close to the surface in my mind? Because I was fresh off of killing Ivan just a few days before? Some kind of… catharsis because the list was finally complete?

My head feels like it’s spinning with all those questions I don’t have answers to as Gage parks the car and we head into the house. I barely pay attention to the guys, until I look up and find Gage standing in front of me.

The others have cleared out, and it’s just the two of us in the entryway.

His green eyes are sharp with anger, the way they so often are, and I can see the storm cloud of rage simmering behind them. He’s pissed, and I brace myself, ready to be pissed right back at him for whatever he thinks he’s going to tell me off for now.

“That was really fucking stupid,” he snaps. “That’swhy I didn’t want you to come. You can’t just go into a place like that, their fucking headquarters, and attack one of them. That’s not how this shit works.”

“So what do you want me to do, Gage?” I snap back, glaring up at him. “Just let any asshole who feels like it put their hands on me? Just stand there and take it while I get groped like a piece of fucking meat?”

“I want you to stop doing shit that’ll get you killed!” he grinds out. “Get all of us killed. You see how that went today. It went from tense to nearly a fire fight because you couldn’t control yourself.”

“Me?” I demand, incredulous. “I couldn’t control myself? That’s fucking hilarious.”

“You know what I’m saying.”

“I know you’re acting like me defending myself is some big crime. Like I owed it to that fuck nugget to just let him have his fun and grin and bear it. Well fuck that. I’m not that kind of girl, and I never fucking will be. If someone thinks they can take liberties with me, then they’re damn well going to deal with the consequences. And I don’t give a fuck what you have to say about it.”

I stare up at him as I finish speaking, defiant and pissed off.

He just stares back, his expression hard and unyielding. He’s not used to people talking back to him in this house, I guess. But whatever. He can glare at me all he wants; I’m not his fucking subordinate or property to boss around.

There’s something else there, though, lurking just under the anger. A hint of worry in his eyes. Concern that one day I am going to bite off more than I can chew, maybe.

My chest tightens, my heart seeming to trip over itself as it tries to beat normally. That sickening feeling in my stomach is back, the same way it was when Ash started saying shit about wanting things to matter with me. I can’t handle it again. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to see it—don’t want to see anything more than the sharp edges and the walls between us.

So I pretend I didn’t.

I focus on the anger that’s still so clear in Gage’s expression, letting it fuel my own. That makes it easier to shove past him and stalk deeper into the house.

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