Page 53 of Piper's Pyro

17

Cobra

“If you want to use your real name, do it. It’s not like Piper won’t recognize you. She’ll know we sent you,” I told Pyro, who was a little pale and shaky. I wouldn’t give him an out after agreeing to go up. He was doing this whether he wanted to or not.

“Okay.”

“Just okay? Do you have any questions?” Christ, he made me doubt my decision.

“No.”

“He’s going to screw up. I feel it in my bones.” Spectre turned away from our circle. It was apparent he didn’t like Pyro. Couldn’t say I was impressed, but he seemed to care about Piper, which meant he’d do anything to protect her. That was enough for me.

“Forrest will search you, so we can’t give you a weapon.” I squeezed his rock-hard biceps. “But these should be enough. Forrest is weak. That’s why he’s got a gun.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“You have only one job, to keep Piper safe, so don’t fuck it up.” I scratched the top of my head. “We’ll be behind you. You only need to create a diversion. Knock him on his ass and somehow get the gun away from him. I doubt Stitch can help, but knowing him, unless he’s unconscious, he’ll do what he can.”

“That’s reassuring,” Pyro grumbled. “Let’s get this over with. I don’t need to hear anymore.” He hoisted the medical bag onto his shoulder and went to the elevator.

He was irritated. Good. I wanted him frustrated and angry, so he wouldn’t chicken out.

“We got your back, man,” Bone shouted.

“Wasn’t there another way? He’s our drummer.” Singe’s voice came from behind me.

“Yeah, he’s not an outlaw. The dude suffers from severe anxiety and PTSD,” Flint said. “What if he’s triggered?”

“Seriously?” My eyebrows shot up. I whipped my head at Pyro standing in the elevator. The doors closed before I could stop him from going up.

“Great. A druggie with mental health problems just went up to rescue our sister from a lunatic. This should turn out well.” Spectre stomped toward the elevator and slammed his hand on the button.

“Maybe it’s the right call under those circumstances.” Hustler shrugged and trotted after Spectre.

“Christ, brother. I don’t envy you.” Bone elbowed me. “We don’t have this kind of shit in Montana.” He put his arm around Buff, and they went to join our brothers.

“Your club is just getting going.” I stalked toward my brothers. “And have you forgotten about the shit with Storm’s crew up at your compound last summer? I’d say mayhem is in your future.”

“Don’t jinx me.” Bone shoved me in the arm.

“Fuck, his negative talk will jinx us all.” Spectre entered the elevator when the doors opened. He checked his guns and felt for his knife.

We were all ready for war.

Ready to take Piper home to the farm. Home to Lady M.

“I think he loves her.” Hustler crossed her arms over his broad chest.

“They’ve only known each other for three goddamn days. Not possible,” Spectre hissed.

Bone grunted in agreement.

“Haven’t you ever heard of insta-love?” Buff asked. “Reign reads books about it all the time. She says it’s her favorite trope.”

“Trope? What the fuck is trope?” Bone screwed up his face.

“I don’t know. It’s book lingo.” Buff turned to face the doors.

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