by Monroe, Evie
The second he started to climb on the back of it, a bullet whizzed through the air, burying itself in the brick wall behind me. Dust from the smashed wall billowed into the air like smoke. “Shit! Get down!”
We both slid down to the ground, behind my bike and the car, and pulled out our guns. The bullet had come from the narrow alley, which meant one of them had gone around the block, where I’d come in.
We were trapped.
“Shit! What do they think they’re doing?” Zain said, peering around the corner and leveling his gun just as another bullet tore past us, nearly giving him a close shave. “Holy fuck.”
I fell to my belly and held the gun in front of me as I looked down the alley, underneath the chassis of the car. Just as I did, the window of the car exploded, raining glass onto me.
Great. Now they were shooting at us from both sides.
Zain sank down next to me, got off a shot, and started to reload. “We’re fucked. They’ve got us surrounded.”
Surrounded, and as I peered down the alley, seeing the shape of a man on a bike gradually getting clearer, I knew they were coming closer. Using the Mercedes as my shield, I squeezed off a shot, but it didn’t stop the guy from advancing.
Suddenly, I heard another sound, and not the adrenaline pulsing through my veins. It was far away, but unmistakable. Police sirens.
The other men heard it too, because they started to push off and retreat. Zain closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief, just as one of the men called, “We been watching you! You hear us? We know about Slade! You pussies better get ready ‘cause we’re coming for you!”
I eyed my bike. It hadn’t been hit by any stray bullets. Then I motioned to Zain slightly with my chin. He got the idea. The second the Fury’s motors started to scream away into the distance, we both dove for the bike. I gunned it and sailed out of the alley as fast as I could, making it out of there free and clear.
Zain pumped his fist. “Holy shit.”
We drove for about a mile, until we knew we hadn’t been followed. Then I pulled off to the side of the highway, and we both got off the bike, bending over with our hands on our knees, breathing hard. We needed a minute to calm the fuck down.
“They know,” Zain finally said after a minute. “About Slade?”
I nodded. “Don’t know.”
“You think that kid told them?”
I shook my head. Yeah, the most logical answer was that Joel had seen the thing and somehow found time to report to the Fury, even though he’d said to me he hadn’t. He could’ve been lying, but I didn’t think so. The kid wasn’t smooth enough for that.
“The kid did say they’ve been tracking us pretty close for a while. Maybe they saw something. Could’ve been any number of things.”
Zain kicked at the dirt with his boot. “Shit.”
“Hold on.” I opened my phone so I could track what Joel had been doing for the past three hours since I left him. Nothing much. He’d ordered a sandwich from the Subway but didn’t make any calls or send any texts. Other than that, he’d Googled one thing.
The Steel Cobras.
Well, that was interesting. He hadn’t brought up much. We were pretty under the radar, as were most clubs. We didn’t go around flying our flag for all to see.
But it was a good sign he was curious about us. It meant we were getting under his skin.
I lifted my phone up. “We need to get Cullen to call church. I’ve been talking with the kid. I think the brothers need to know that the Fury have been following us hardcore for a while.”
“Yeah.”
I got on the phone with Cullen, who answered with, “Yeah? What’s going on with the kid?”
“The kid’s back home, but I’m tracking his phone. Listen. We have bigger fish to fry right now.”
“Yeah?”
“I just picked Zain up from the boost he was making. It went bad. We had to leave the car.”
“You what?” I could hear the anger in his voice. “Shit. What happened?”
“The Fury happened. They boxed him in so we had to get away. When they were leaving, they called out to us that they knew about Slade and that we should prepare for a war.”
“Fuck,” Cullen breathed. “And you just let that kid go?”
“Listen to me. I don’t think it was him,” I said. “He told me they’ve been watching us hard for a few weeks. I don’t think the kid’s our man. I got him talking last night. He was pretty open about what he knew, after a while. Gave me a lot of intel.”
“Yeah? All right. I want your asses back in the clubhouse in fifteen for church. I’ll text the others.”
He hung up, and I looked at Zain. “Church in fifteen.”
We got back on my bike and headed to the pier. We were the first to arrive at the clubhouse, a rare thing for Zain, who’d never been on time for anything in his life. We went inside and tossed back a few beers as we waited for the rest of the guys to arrive.
The first thing out of Jet’s mouth? “So what happened to the white S-class I tagged?”
Zain growled, “We had a problem. Fury.”
Jet raised an eyebrow as he grabbed a chair and sat down. “Seriously? Those fuckers got in the way of making a pick? What the fuck?”
Cullen said, “Calm down, Jet. If I’m not mistaken, you’re the one who fucked up on the last one. Remember the Ferrari?”
We all shifted our eyes from our beers, cigarettes, and grease-stained fingernails to Jet. We sure as hell all remembered the Ferrari. He was our tagger for the job but fucked up. He hadn’t stuck my tracking device on the car firmly enough, and it fell off. Who knows how much money he torched on that dumbass move?
Miraculously, Jet shut up for once in his life. He looked down at his knuckles and leaned back in his chair.
“Yeah. We’re not actually having a really good month when it comes to the business,” Cullen said to us, scanning around the room. “Our overseas clients don’t want to hear excuses.”
“So what happened with the S-Class?” Nix asked.
Zain gave them all the rundown. When he finished, they all looked at him for a minute, not saying anything. Then Nix ran both hands down his face and shook his head. “Shit,” he breathed. “So all we did to avoid them finding out about Slade was for nothing.”
“Yep. Pretty much.”
“So, what? Was it that kid?” Drake asked, dropping his beer bottle on the table.
“Nah, that’s the thing,” I said. “They’ve been tracking us hot and heavy for a while. I got the feeling the kid really didn’t know anything about what Nix and Jet were doing out there. He just saw the colors and started firing. Someone else must’ve seen something.”
Jet took a drag of his cigarette. “You been keeping an eye on that kid?”
I smirked at him. “Yeah. No thanks to you.”
He ignored the dig. “So what has he said? Anything?”
“Yeah. A lot, actually. He still seems pretty tight with wanting to be a Fury. But he did tell me a few things. Like that there’s a new Veep, named Scar, who’s been ordering them all to keep a watch on us. According to the kid, we’re their number one target. This dude’s pretty hot on watching us and finding a way to take us out. So Joel’s been giving them intel on us for the past week.”
Jet shook his head. “Of course they are. They’ve got nothing better to do. The kid tell you why he wants to be a part of that shit show?”
I shrugged ‘cause I wasn’t sure myself. “Looks like he’s just looking for a place to fit in. He’s kind of naïve. Wants a family, and a friend suggested it to him. I get the feeling he went for it because it was all he knew. He doesn’t seem to be married to the thought, though.”
“Where is he now?” Nix asked.
“I let him go back home. Put a tracker on his phone so I could see where he was and record his conversations,” I explained. “Hasn’t done much on his phone though.”
Jet squinted at me. “You just let him go? What the fuck for?”
I held up a hand to him. “Hey. In case you didn’t notice. I’m not the fucking babysitter. If you wanted to keep him under lock and key twenty-four-seven, you could’ve volunteered to watch him last night instead of going on your booty call.”
He crossed his arms. “Maybe I should have. I sure as hell wouldn’t have just let him go!”
“You’re the one who wanted to turn him to our side. Keeping him on a leash ain’t the way to do that, Jet. You know that,” I muttered.
Jet glared at me but said nothing. Good. Because he was about five seconds away from getting my fist in his face.
“All right, guys, break it up,” Cullen muttered, looking at me. “This isn’t good. How do we know we can trust that this kid is giving us the straight shit? Maybe he’s giving us bad intel.”
“He could be, but I doubt it.” I held up my phone. “Look. I’m monitoring him through his phone. If he does anything out of line, we know where to find him. I made it clear we weren’t going to let him go. I think he got the picture. He’s scared.”
“Yeah. But we gotta know for sure,” Nix put in.
Cullen hitched his chin at me. “Can you get on the kid? See if you can shore up what side he’s on and if he’s just playing with us?”
I could feel my eyebrows narrowing, trying to figure out how the fuck to do that. But whatever, once again, Hart to the rescue, taking care of the little newb. I guess if Jet took over this job the kid would’ve already gone running back to the Fury camp, and we’d be looking at all-out war by now.
So I’d do it. Besides, it’d give me a chance to see that spitfire of a sister again. “I’ll try,” I said. Ignoring Jet.
When Cullen adjourned the meeting, I went out to my bike, checking my phone to see what Joel had been up to. Not much. He’d posted a close-up picture of his bicep, baring another kind of pathetic tattoo with the caption: Good workout today.
Well, that was good. Our little boy was behaving himself.
I quickly rang his number. He answered on the first ring. “Hey.”
“Joel? It’s Hart.”
“Oh. Hey.”
I could sense him stiffening. Good. He needed to have respect for us. It was better than his earlier tough guy act, where he’d called us some pretty fucked up names.
“What’s up?”
“I told you to be ready ‘cause I was gonna need you,” I said, grabbing my helmet. “Well . . . I need to talk to you.”
“Okay. Sure. I’m at my house.” Yes, he was. I knew that already. “You want to come by here? My sister’s been on a rampage, yelling at me every two seconds. I need to get the fuck out of here.”
“Yeah. That sounds good. Be there in five,” I said, hanging up.
I wasn’t looking forward to dragging shit out of the Fury prospect, but for some reason, I couldn’t wait to see that feisty girl.
Chapter Ten
Charlotte
On my way to the shower, I could hear Joel pumping iron. That was fine. Healthy. I was glad he was doing that and not anything that could get him in trouble.
But he had to clean his room. And . . . we still needed to talk about the gun. I wanted him to surrender it to whoever he’d gotten it from. While I showered, I decided that the best way to do that would be to offer him some kind of incentive. Like, if he got a real job and got rid of the gun, I’d let him stay at my place rent-free, no questions asked. If he kept things in order, I wouldn’t go snooping through his room. That kind of thing.
Listening through the door to his heavy breathing and the weights clinking together, I grabbed a post-it and wrote, LET’S TALK!, then stuck it on the door. We were both so busy with different schedules these days, that was how we communicated.
Then I went back to my bedroom to get ready for work. I had the late shift, which meant I’d be at the vets until midnight, so I got into my pink scrubs, threw my hair into a ponytail, and went down to the kitchen to get some dinner.
As I walked down the hall, I heard the shower running. Then I realized my post-it note wasn’t on his door. My eyes scanned to the threadbare carpet and saw it crumpled on the ground.
So, that pretty much answered that question. He was still pissed at me.
Fine, I thought. I’d just go to work. Before I left, though, I’d make him promise to stay home. He had to. He couldn’t keep going out, night after night. Wasn’t he exhausted?
When the water shut off, I waited for him in the hall eating a Hot Pocket. He appeared in the doorway, towel around his waist, his hair hanging down over his eyes and water droplets on his bony shoulders. I pounced.
“You’re staying home tonight!” I ordered.
“Jesus!” He took a step back. Then he rolled his eyes and pushed past me, toward his room. At least he smelled good.
“I’m serious!” I shouted after him.
His answer? He slammed the door in my face. I let out a groan as I clenched my hands into fists. So this was how he was going to play it. My little brother, who never used to hold a grudge longer than ten minutes, was now giving me the silent treatment. Damn him. That was my tactic.
I went back to the kitchen, finished up my Hot Pocket and lemonade by myself. Then I went to the bathroom and brushed my teeth. As I was gargling, I heard the sound of a motorcycle coming closer.
Oh. Hell. No. Not happening. No way was I—
Before I could make a move, Jojo’s door opened. Now fully dressed in baggy jeans and a t-shirt, he strode purposefully, with his head down, to the door, like he was trying to avoid someone.
Me, of course.
“Hold it!” I shouted at him, the words garbled because I hadn’t yet spit.
He didn’t stop. He ignored me, throwing open the door and letting it slam behind him.
Who the fuck did he think he was?
I rinsed my toothpaste out, threw my toothbrush in the sink, then raced out after him. I tore open the door and dashed down the stairs, just in time to see Joel glance at me, then tear off into the night.
The guy he was with? The same hot, dirty guy as before. The one that made my insides do all kinds of crazy dances. I ran into the street, holding my hands out to block the guy from going any farther.
Really, it was a pathetic attempt at a blockade. The street was so wide he could’ve easily swerved either way around me. But he didn’t. He stopped, his motorcycle roaring underneath him.
“What do you think you’re doing? Where are you taking him?”
He tapped his ear and shrugged, then cut the engine on his bike. “Couldn’t hear you, baby. What?”
I fisted my hands on my hips. “Don’t act all innocent! You know very well I told you not to come around here and to leave Jojo alone!”
He rose to his feet and lifted his leg up, then stepped off his bike toward me. “I know you said that. But I think Jojo told you that he’s old enough to make his own decisions.”
I shook my head adamantly. “What the fuck do you know? You didn’t raise him on your own since he was twelve, did you?”
He didn’t answer. That amused smile threatened to come back, with those killer dimples. I steeled myself against it and added, “Did you?”
He held out his hands in surrender. “No, I did not, Charlotte.”
My entire body tingled at the way he said my name. So sensually and sexually, it made me wish he’d say it again. Which was definitely not how I needed to react right now. And how did he know my name? Was Joel talking about what a no-fun stick-up-the-ass I was?
“Well,” I said, lifting my chin. “Then you’ll kindly butt out of our family business.”
He laughed. “I would. But in case you haven’t noticed, your brother is already gone.”
I whirled around. He did have a point. The parking lot was empty. I’d thought that if he was going to go anywhere, he’d need this man to lead him. “Where did he go?”
“I know,” he said, like it was a big secret he was holding over me.
“And . . .? Are you going to tell me?”
He tapped the side of his head, pretending to think.
I scowled at him. “You want your balls kneed again?”
“Fine,” he sighed. “I asked him to come to our clubhouse. I need to discuss some business with him.”
“Business? What kind of business?” He just shook his head. Oh, so it was top secret, motorcycle-man business. How stupid. Like I cared. I checked my phone. “Well. Will he be back by his curfew? Ten o’clock. I have to go to work?”
Then he really did start to laugh. “Your brother has a curfew?”
I nodded. “What’s wrong with that?”
“He’s nineteen, Charlie. An adult.”
I opened my mouth to tell him that I didn’t care if he was fifty, he was still my responsibility, when it hit me, just what he’d called me. “Did you just call me . . . Charlie?”
“Yeah. You got a problem with it?”
“Yes! Don’t call me that . . . what is your name? Hart? What is that short for? Heartless?”
“It’s my road name,” he said. “Better than my real name. I like Charlie. You definitely look like a Charlie.”
I snorted. “Well, you look like a stupid motherfucker. Can you please tell me where I can go to find my brother?” I said reached into the pockets of my pants for my keys. “Because I need to be at work in an hour—”
“Don’t tell me you’re going to go down there and bring him home?”
I nodded. “Why?”
“You think he’ll ever forgive you if you do that?”
I froze, my hands on my hips. I was so annoyed, I was only half-listening. “Do what?”
“Show up to our club like his mommy and drag him home,” he said with a laugh.
I sighed. He did have a point. I was already on thin ice with my little brother. I didn’t want him to hate me any more than he already did. He might never come home and then I’d really be alone. “What do you suggest?”
He thought for a minute. “How about this? You let him live his life. And I’ll get his ass home by . . . not ten. He’s not a little kid. Say, midnight?”
