Page 6 of Down & Dirty: Rage

“Guessin’ you were wearin’ a helmet.”

Crow shifted sharply next to her.

“Yes. It’s ruined.”

Being a skilled artist like her father, she had custom spray painted her helmet. In fact, once everyone saw it—club brothers and sisters alike—a lot of them asked her to do theirs, if they wore one. Unlike the women, the majority of his brothers did not.

“Better than smashin’ your melon.”

Crow grunted in agreement. Even so, the man was keeping the fear of losing his daughter pretty damn well contained.

The thought of her cracking open her head and possibly dying due to those motherfucking Souls made the angerbubbling deep in his gut to start heading toward the surface.

Rage really needed to take a fucking page from Lyric’s father on how to keep cool in the middle of a shit storm. And being so much like him, Lyric was wise beyond her years, despite only being twenty-three.

Rage repeated to Crow what Lexi had revealed. “Weren’t wearin’ cuts.”

Crow nodded, catching the meaning of those three words immediately. “Means we can’t assume it’s the Souls.”

“Sure as fuck can,” Rage growled. “No other goddamn club’s on our fuckin’ radar right now.”

When a hand landed on his arm, his first instinct was to shake it off. But he fought the urge and allowed his gaze to follow the arm to the person it belonged to instead, despite already knowing because her touch always seemed to douse any fire roaring in the pit of his gut.

It was no surprise Crow caught that whole exchange. He was the most observant man Rage knew. Only, Crow didn’t say shit.

He didn’t have to.

Rage managed to soften his voice enough to not sound like a raging asshole when he asked Lyric, “Where’s your sled?”

He was tempted to smooth out her disheveled hair for her, but that would come back to bite him in the ass since they were surrounded by his brothers. And under Lyric’s father and brother’s watchful eyes.

Rage had never liked the taste of a shit sandwich and today was no fucking exception.

“I don’t know. But I’m assuming it’s totaled.”

“Hook will tow it from wherever it is back to the shopand see if it is.” He met Nix’s gaze. “Figure it the fuck out and let Hook know.”

Nix nodded. “On it.” He left his family’s side to go talk to Lexi and Indie.

With a frown, Crow glanced at a text on his phone. “Your mom’s almost here.”

“There’s no point in her coming now. We can head home.”

“Already told her that.”

Rage waded in. “Need to ride in a fuckin’ cage, Lyric, not on the back of a goddamn sled right now. Got only one good arm to hang on.”

“Dad’s got a sissy bar.”

“Don’t matter, he’s right,” Crow said softly, squeezing her good shoulder and dislodging her grip on Rage. Most likely on purpose. The OG was a pro at being subtle but effective. “Your mom can take you home.”

Lyric was one of the rare club sisters or brothers that actually still lived in the DAMC compound with her parents. After her older brother patched in, Nix moved out of their house and into one of the rooms above Church a few years ago.

The DAMC women were limited on where they could live. If it wasn’t in the compound or his family’s farm or the apartment above the pawn shop, which was currently occupied by Bri, then they were shit out of luck.

Lyric asked, “How’s Piper?”

Rage glanced down at Lyric and his gut twisted when it hit him that she could’ve been lost today.