Page 29 of Pain

I growled at the thought, brought my bike to a quick halt, and looked around us.

They must have been expecting us, because there were thirty guys already standing in the parking lot in front of the market, their hands on their guns and their eyes turned toward our bikes. I wondered if that was all Devil had here... or if that was just a small sampling. We’d never been able to get an accurate count of how many men he had—partially because he was always losing and gaining people—and I’d never regretted that as much as I did right now.

If someone started shooting, we were going to have an all-out war right here. And I hadn’t brought as many men as I should have.

A man walked forward out of the group of Devil’s crew and came to a stop about ten feet from us. Gemini and I exchanged one long, searching glance, and then Gem stood up and walked to meet the man. As my VP, it was both his right and his responsibility to handle meetings like that.

Still, my hand went to my gun, my finger on the trigger and ready to pull if anything happened. Gem and I had a complicated relationship, but he’d have my back no matter what, and I wasn’t about to lose him to some Steed.

Gem met the man where he stood, though, and they ducked their heads together, talking for several tense moments. Going over, I hoped, the list of grievances Gem and I had discussed and letting the man know that we weren’t going to be returning Saraya as this club was a danger to her life. It had all sounded so reasonable when we first came up with it. So high on the ethics and honor.

Now that I was watching Gem recite our list of demands to Devil’s guy, though, I was starting to think we definitely should have brought more of our men with us. Neither man was moving for his gun yet, but I’d never seen Gemini’s shoulders so tense, his face creased with lines of worry and frustration.

It wasn’t going well, I thought. And this was it. The moment of truth, when we would figure out exactly how we were going to do this.

Whether they cared that we had Saraya or not. Whether we were going to war.

I knew what I wanted to do. But I also knew that when it all came down to it, I’d do what was best for the club. I wanted to keep Saraya safe. If I could do that without risking my men, I would. If this guy gave us some route for solving the problem through a peaceful negotiation—or even better, if he said they didn’t actually want her back—it would mean we were all safer.

Suddenly, though, the man from Devil’s club smirked.

Shit.

Before I could pull my own gun, gunfire erupted from one of the buildings, and Gemini fell to the ground. And that was all it took. My men dove down behind their bikes, and the bullets went flying, our hands up over the machines and our fingers on the triggers while Devil’s men returned fire. I fired three times, hitting three of Devil’s men, and then my eyes went to Gemini. I’d thought he must be dead, but he was still moving, trying to scoot back toward us.

That did it. I might have sent him out there to that meeting, but I wasn’t going to leave him out in the open, vulnerable to flying bullets.

I jammed my gun back into my waistband, jumped on my bike, and revved the engine, then sent the machine flying toward him, my body ducked low over the handlebars and my mouth caught on a prayer that this would work.

A prayer that I’d somehow be able to get to him without getting shot myself.

A moment later, I screeched to a halt at his side. I reached down and dragged him onto my bike, using every piece of strength I had in my body. He was alive but breathing raggedly and in obvious pain.

“Let’s go, Gem,” I grunted, pushing and pulling until he was situated in front of me.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he wheezed. “You’re going to get yourself shot, too.”

“Not going to leave you behind,” I muttered. “Can you drive for yourself?”

His eyes shot to mine, and his mouth quirked into a grim, sideways smile. “You remember who the fuck you’re talking to?”

I returned the grin, well aware that we were in the middle of a gunfight and insane to be standing here having this conversation. “I’m talking to a guy who’s been shot, and I’m trusting him with my bike. Now get the fuck out of here. Get back out onto the road and wait for us so we can get you home.”

I slapped him on the back, but he was already revving the engine of my bike, the tire spinning in the sand while it sought purchase. Moments later, he was tearing away, his right shoulder dropped lower than his left but his hands steady on the handlebars.

I didn’t waste time watching to make sure he’d get out of there okay. I was too busy running for his bike, which I flat-out refused to leave behind. I juked and dodged around my guys, who laid cover down for me with their shots, and finally got to where Gem had left his bike.

I jumped for it like a starving man who’s just seen food and landed astride the machine, one hand reaching for the ignition and the other reaching for the throttle.

“Banshees, let’s roll!” I shouted. A quick glance told me that some of Devil’s men were down—the ones I’d shot, most likely—but that my men were all still whole and already on their bikes. “We made our point!”

I didn’t wait to see whether they heard me or followed my orders. I revved my own engine, glanced at Gemini to make sure he was doing as I asked, and then skidded out of the parking lot, making for the highway and the road back home. With luck, the Devil’s Steed had enough men wounded that they’d stay put. With luck, they’d realize that they wouldn’t do well against us on the road with so many wounded.

I didn’t want them following us.

I hadn’t wanted shooting in the first place.

But when you were dealing with Devil’s crew, you very rarely got what you wanted. And I was going to count myself lucky to be heading back to our own headquarters with only one wounded man, while the Steed had at least five down.