Page 135 of Hidden

But my thoughts always went back to her.

Gabriella.

She’d made it back. I knew that. Hacksaw had confirmed it, the cameras had picked her up, and on paper that should have been enough.

But it wasn’t. Nothing was ever enough where she was concerned.

Why hadn’t she text me? Why hadn’t she called me? Why hadn’t she done a single fucking thing to let me know she was okay?

And then, out of nowhere, an alarm rang out into the kitchen, silencing us all for a split second.

And then we sprang into action.

“Steph, Jenna,” Rachel snapped, pulling a gun from under the table where it had been taped. “Get the kids.”

“Already on it,” Steph replied, scooping Axel out of Dante’s arms and grabbing hold of Bee’s hand. Jenna was already hugging Trex close to her chest, her eyes wild and full of panic.

“Get them to Church,” Dante said. “Take them out the back, down the door to the cellar, and go up under the garage. Tools!”

“Yes, boss?”

“What are we up against?” he asked, stopping to place a kiss to Bee’s head as Jenna and Steph ushered them out of the kitchen.

“Riders. And it looks like they’ve brought the whole damn club with them.”

“We’ve had worse odds. Right!” he boomed, speaking over everyone, commanding the attention of the room. “We don’t ask questions. It doesn’t fucking matter why they’re here. They’ve enteredourterritory unannounced. You take down anyone you come across. You all know the score here, brothers. We deal with this, and we’ll think of how to handle the consequences later. Do what you can, protect the brotherhood, and I’ll see you all in Church later.”

“Let’s go, then,” I grinned, the energy in the room shifting so fast it was like someone had flicked a switch inside me.

One second I’d been sat at the table stewing over Gabriella, and the next my blood pressure was up and my body was moving before my brain had fully caught up.

Chairs scraped back, drawers were yanked open, knives and guns and brass knuckles and whatever else people kept hidden in the kitchen were suddenly appearing in hands like muscle memory. It was chaos, but it was our kind of chaos. Wewere organised. Everything felt familiar, like muscle memory. Everyone knew what to do without needing to be told twice.

Rachel was just about to race out of the door when she paused, spun around, and grabbed the potato peeler.

Monster looked at her. “You are not taking that into a fucking attack.”

She looked back at him. “Why not?”

“Because it’s a potato peeler.”

“And?”

“And you’ve already traumatised enough people with kitchen utensils for one lifetime.”

Rachel gave him a look. “That sounds like a you problem.”

I snorted as I reached for the knife block on instinct, only to have Dante shove a gun into my hand instead. “Use that first,” he said. “Try not to kiss anyone this time.”

I grinned and checked the mag before tucking it into the back of my jeans. “Can’t promise anything. Bar fights bring out the romance in me.”

“Christ,” Ant muttered as he grabbed a crowbar from behind the utility cupboard. “If I get taken out today and my last image on this earth is you snogging a Rough Rider, I’m haunting this place.”

“Get in line,” Riley said darkly.

The alarm was still blaring as we poured out of the kitchen and into the rest of the house, but the second we hit the hall, the noise outside drowned it out.

Men were shouting, engines were revving, boots were crunching on the gravel out front.