Page 18 of Chaos & Carnage

I mull over that piece of information. It would be just like my father to get the Grim Bastards and a few lowly soldiers to do his bidding. It also tells me that today’s attack was a test—my father’s way of assessing the Rejects’ manpower and seeing how organized they are before bringing down the full force of the Antonelli Empire on them.

Lor follows Oliver up, then Sawyer, and I bring up the rear, my eyes glued to the round globes of Sawyer’s ass as she climbs the rungs. It’s been way too fucking long since I was balls deep inside her. I know she’s hurting after her accident—not that she’s complained; her stiff movements speak loud enough for me to hear. However, there’s no way I can go another night without feeling her soft curves pressed against me or hearing her sweet moans in my ear.

I have to consciously redirect my thoughts away from my hardening cock to the crisis at hand as Sawyer reaches the roof and turns, cutting off my delicious view of her ass. It says a lot about how unaffected I am by the gunfire and death surrounding us that I can even be turned on at a time like this, but when it comes to Sawyer, there’s no situation where she couldn’t get me off if she wanted to.

When I reach the rim of the roof, I crouch low and slowly crawl forward. As I approach, I notice how one of Cain’s closest guys pauses in whatever he’s saying to Cain, his eyes narrowing on me. Distrust swims in his features, and I can tell he’s less than pleased that I’m here.Trust me, man, I don’t want to be here either, but apparently shit like this is what you do when you’re in love.

When the street below comes into view, I snap my gaze away, looking down. By the looks of it, my father’s men and the Bastards came in in a storm of cars and bikes, blocking both ends of the street. A few cars made it closer to the clubhouse before their tires were blown out. Dead bodies decorate the street, most having been left where they fell, and the last of the survivors are currently hiding behind their shot-out cars.

As I watch, a man pops his head up, the muzzle poking over the top of the hood. With his sights set on us, he fires off a round from the heavy-duty automatic rifle. We all scramble to duck, my hands coming up to cover my head as I flatten myself against the warm rubber of the roof.

I can’t do anything but breathe in the bitter, pungent smell of gunpowder that sits heavy in the air and wait for it to end. I crack open an eyelid, needing to see that Sawyer is okay. Unfortunately, I’m met with Cain’s ugly as fuck face, and quickly dismissing him, I turn my head. Sawyer is on my other side, Oliver half on top of her as he uses his body as a shield, their heads leaning against one another.

Instead of jealousy bubbling up—okay, there’s definitely a little bit of jealousy as I wish it was my body pressed against hers, though it’s not as overpowering as I’d expected—the primary feeling is relief. Relief that she’s okay, that someone other than me is looking out for her and ensuring she is safe. It’s actually a weight off my chest to share the burden. Albeit, I’ll never trust them with her safety as much as I’d trust myself or Lor, especially after they so callously lost her. Still, in this moment, I rest assured that one of us will always be making Sawyer our top priority. I’ve noticed that, since this shit began, we’ve automatically been placing her in the middle of us, ensuring she’s always protected. We all seamlessly moved into that formation without even discussing it, and I suddenly realized that no matter our differences and issues, Sawyer will always be our primary focus—the one thing we will always put above all else.

The gunfire stops with a deafening silence, and I slowly lift my head until I can just about see over the edge of the roof, noting that the shooter has ducked back behind his car, probably to refill his magazine.

In the brief break before the next round, everyone moves into action, Cain barking out orders. “Get me the grenade launcher! It’s time to end these sorry sons of bitches.”

His order is passed down the line of men along the roof, everyone working seamlessly as the grenade launcher is passed back. As he sets it up and gets it in position, I return my focus to the street, noticing that there’s another car with men hiding behind it.

“There are two targets,” I tell him. “As soon as you fire that thing at one of them, the others will scatter.”

“Good,” he grunts. “That’s our opportunity to pick them off one by one.”

Taking the rifle from my back, I prop it up on the roof and look down the scope. “Which one are you going for?”

“The dark blue one.”

Swiveling the barrel toward the other car, I line it up, and with my finger on the trigger and my body relaxed, I wait for Cain to shoot his grenade. As soon as these assholes—Bastards or not—run from their hiding place, I’m going to take them out. I’m fucking done with this bullshit of a day. I need a fucking shower and Sawyer in my arms, and these bastards are interfering with my plans.

I wait impatiently, ticking the seconds off one by one until thewhoomphof the grenade whizzes past my ear threatening to deafen me. An earth-quaking boom quickly follows it, and heat blasts my face. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice as a ball of fire flares into the sky and car parts get tossed into the air, but the second I catch a flash of movement, my focus zeros in on the stupid fucker making a run for it.

His suit-clad back is to me as I press down on the trigger, watching as he falls to his knees. I keep the rifle aimed at him, waiting until he faceplants on the asphalt and shows no signs of getting up again before scanning for the other target. I spot him just as a bullet is fired into his shoulder, sending him stumbling off course and training my rifle on him. I deliver the final blow, taking off his face with the shot.Oh, well, it’s not like he needs a face in Hell.

A tense silence fills the air as everyone waits expectantly, scouring the street below for the next assault or someone hiding out of sight. When nothing comes, I slowly relax, forcing my shoulders to unbunch. It’s only when men start to pile out of the front door and emerge from the side of the house, spreading out onto the street, we search for any further threats and ensure everyone is dead. Cain finally lets out a breath of relief beside me and pushes off the roof.

Still, no sounds of celebration go up, because this is not a celebration. Cain may have won, but he’s suffered his own casualties today in the form of his men and their clubhouse. Tensions are going to be high after today, everyone demanding retaliation, and Cain’s going to have to manage all of that, as well as bury his dead and find somewhere safe for his men to stay until the clubhouse is up and running again. I don’t envy the job ahead of him, and as more and more of his men throw dirty, distrustful glances my way, I know mine and Enzo’s presence here is only going to make the situation worse for him.

The more and more looks I get, the more uncomfortable I become. I raise my chin and stare down every single one of them, but I fear my response does more harm than good. Eventually, I turn my back on all of them, focusing on Sawyer as I stride toward her.

“Are you okay?” I demand, reaching out to lift her chin.

“I’m fine,” she assures me, but I see the truth in her eyes. They’re duller than they were this morning, that vibrant, cerulean blue looking less like the Caribbean Sea and more like its subterranean depths.

“You’re not,” I snarl, immediately brushing my hands over her shoulders and along her arms, checking for injuries. Reaching out, she catches my hands in hers, giving them a squeeze. “I’m just tired.”

“We’ll get you home to bed,” I assure her, but she just shakes her head before casting her eyes around the rooftop and the road below.

“I’m tired of all of this. Of the fighting, the pointless deaths, the destruction of Black Creek. I just want it all to end.” She says the last part with such a deflated tone, as though she doesn’t believe that will ever be the case.

I pull her in against me, wrapping my arms around her as I bury my face in the crook of her neck. “Isn’t that what you’ve been fighting for? These people? This city?”

“Yeah,” she sighs, pulling back so I can see her face. “On days like today, I can’t help but wonder if the price is worth it. Perhaps it would have been better if I’d never agreed to join the Rejects, if I’d never started working in that club to get close to you, if I’d run as soon as you mentioned getting married.”

Her words incense me, and I roughly grab her chin, holding her in place as I bite out, “No. It would not have been better. My life would not be better without you in it. Lor’s life would not be better without you in it.” I gesture to Cain and Oliver, who are standing nearby, talking to a few of their men. “Their lives would not be better without you in them.” Returning my attention to her, I run my gaze over her face before latching onto her blue eyes that always slice straight through my heart. “This war was happening, with or without you. These men knew what they were signing up for. They knew the risks and they still stood by Cain. Men like them—men like Cain—the only death they can imagine is one fighting for what they believe in.” I reverently brush my thumb over her cheek. “War has officially come to Black Creek, and there will be more casualties before the end, but if you were to ask any of these men if they want to back out and have no part in it, I’d bet every single one of them would say no. Just like you, just like me, just like Cain, every one of them is here for a purpose. Live or die, we are all going to see it through to the end.”

Sawyer and I are still locked in our moment when Cain approaches, clearing his throat to gain our attention, and Lor comes over to join us. “You need to go,” he says in a quiet, gruff voice, not meeting my stare.

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