“So what the hell happened?” Dancer asked, settling me on a stool. “The guys ran out of here like the world was ending.”
“Someone shot out our tires,” I told her. Wow, saying it out loud made it sound so . . . insane. “Hunter was driving, and the truck started sliding on the ice. We went off the road. A tree pinned him inside the truck—he’s still there—and I called for help. That’s when whoever shot the tires started shooting at us.”
The women all stared at me, eyes wide.
“That’s some serious shit,” Kit said slowly. “But you’re okay? And Hunter, too?”
I nodded.
“Yeah, but they’ll have to cut him out.”
Kit tapped her fingers against the counter nervously.
“Did you know a Devil’s Jack has been seen around town?” she asked. “And I guess they spotted him earlier tonight, right after someone took potshots at Dancer and Bam Bam’s house.”
My eyes widened.
“They shot at your house?” I asked Dancer, stunned. “With the kids there?”
“Yes,” Dancer said, her face more serious than I’d ever seen it. “Em, I love you, but I don’t understand how you could be with a man who’s part of that club.”
I stiffened.
“The man who shot at your house wasn’t a Devil’s Jack,” I said firmly. “Hunter told me he wasn’t. He says that someone else is trying to set us all up for a war. They want peace—they need peace, or their club won’t survive.”
The women exchanged looks, and Marie coughed nervously. Great. Now they all thought I was a gullible idiot.
“Anyone want a drink?” Maggs asked brightly. “I could use a shot.”
“Grab the bottle,” Kit said, reaching out to take my hand. I tugged it away from her, frustrated.
“Just don’t make any judgments until we have the full story,” I told them. “You don’t know what happened out there. Remember, the sniper tried to kill Hunter, too.”
“I guess we’ll see,” Marie said. “It’s good to have you back, Em. The good news is we all brought food with us—whatever else happens, we can celebrate the holiday together instead of just canceling everything.”
Perfect, I thought. Just what I needed. Now everyone could spend tomorrow glaring at me and Hunter, blaming him for everything that’d gone wrong for the Reapers during the last twenty years. And with his truck all busted up, it wasn’t like we could leave. Maybe I could rent a car . . .
“Drink?” Maggs asked again, her tone forced. I shook my head. I already had a headache. The last thing I needed was to throw a hangover into the mix.
Grown-up life was complicated.
HUNTER
By the time they pulled me out of the truck, my nuts were the size of raisins. Fuckin’ cold out there. Despite that, I remembered to grab our bags from behind the truck’s seats. I also grabbed my Devil’s Jacks cut, folding it carefully over my arm before climbing up the bank. Hayes had an SUV waiting for me. At least, I hoped the SUV was for me. A black cargo van had been parked there, too, reminding me of the one we’d used to kidnap Em and Sophie.
Not the most encouraging of sights.
When I reached the top, I found Hayes. He eyed my colors but didn’t say anything. He also didn’t tell me which vehicle would be carrying me to the Armory. I knew he’d promised Em that he’d keep me alive, but it seemed likely that my comfort wasn’t part of the deal.
“You catch the shooter?” I asked him.
“Shooter’s in the van,” he said. “But you’ll ride with me. C’mon.”
I followed him to the SUV—score one for me. Hopefully it was a good sign. Horse and Painter joined us in the backseat. Nobody spoke to me on the short, tense drive to the Armory, which was just fine. The night was far from over, but I’d had plenty of time in the truck to consider my strategy. I’d been in situations like this before, although usually on the other side. I knew better than to show weakness or volunteer information.
On the bright side, at least I wouldn’t have to waste any time looking for the ass**le pretending to be one of my brothers. He was in the van, I was almost certain of it. Smart money said once they took him into the Armory, he wouldn’t be coming back out, which saved me even more time.
We passed through a gate in the building’s courtyard wall. Em was somewhere inside, hopefully snug and warm, surrounded by her girls. Just the thought of her exposed in that truck, the way those shots had blasted through the windshield, chilled my blood.
This love shit sucked.
Now it wasn’t enough I had to watch out for Kelsey, I had to keep Em covered, too. This was why I’d never had pets. Too much work. Hayes stopped the rig, turning it off and looking at me.
“Come inside?” he asked, as if I had a choice.
“Sounds good,” I replied, opening my door. I stepped out to find us parked next to a sunken stairwell leading under the building.
Nothing ominous about that, right?
They’d packed our bags away in the back of the vehicle, which meant I didn’t have access to my spare sidearm. At least they hadn’t searched me. I considered that a good sign, seeing as the hunting knife on my hip wasn’t exactly subtle.
I guess technically I was still a guest.
Hayes started walking toward the stairwell, but I paused to pull on my cut. Painter stopped cold, glancing back and forth between me and his president.
“You aren’t letting him wear his colors inside, are you?” he demanded. Christ, this guy was a drama queen.