Page 113 of The Echo of Violence

“What’s wrong?”

“I tried calling the clubhouse first, but they told me nobody was available,” she snaps before continuing.

“Then I called Scope and then Eightball. Neither of whom fucking answered.”

“Alright, Jinx, take a breath and tell me what’s going on.” It’s not like Jinx to get upset over something like this.

“Someone just tried to run Mercy and me off the road.”

“What? Are you safe now?”

“Yeah, we’re fine. We were in my car, which, you know, is a bit of a beast. I can’t say the same for the other guy, though. That’s why I’m calling. I don’t know what the protocol is when you ram someone’s car into a ravine.”

“Tell me where you are and sit tight. I’m coming for you.”

She reels off where she is before hanging up. I signal to the bikes behind me and pull over. Scope and Shredder pull in behind me. I rip off my helmet and wait for Scope to do the same.

“What’s wrong?”

“Someone just tried to run Mercy and Jinx off the road.”

Scope roars and moves to pull his helmet back on, but I grab his arm and stop him.

“Both of them are fine. The other guy, not so much. Jinx rammed him into a ravine. They are waiting for us because the club apparently doesn’t have anyone to spare to help them.”

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is when my president loses his fucking mind.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Jinx

I take the water bottle from Mercy and take a sip before screwing the lid back on and putting it in the cupholder. “You sure you don’t want anymore?”

“I’ll need to pee if I do, and I’d rather wait until planting poison ivy in my lady garden is less likely.”

I laugh and lean back. “You have the weirdest sayings.”

“Rude.”

“Come on, lady garden?”

“You prefer pussy or cunt?”

“Only when I have a dick in me.”

Now it’s her turn to laugh. She stops abruptly when the sound of motorcycles splits the air.

I pull out one of my guns, check it’s loaded, and look at Mercy. “You carrying?”

“Always,” she answers, like she didn’t forget her damn cell phone today.

“You don’t think that’s Demons?”

“I’m not taking any chances. Do not fire at the window. It’s bulletproof. If it’s not one of ours, I’m flooring it.”

“Got it.” She pulls her gun from her bag near her feet before resting her other hand on her stomach.

“I won’t let anything happen to you.”

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