Page 22 of Reese’s Protection

No, his help wasn’t necessary.

If I never saw Jeremy’s fucking house again, it would be too soon. My stomach lurched as the truck’s front tire bumped onto the curb and the wheels still on the pavement screeched while I jammed my foot on the brake so hard that it jolted my hip and made my spine ache. I came within a whisper of tapping the rear wheel of a big old Harley Fat Boy that gleamed a poisonous green in the headlights.

“Shit!” Layton grasped the dash and shook his head at me.

I threw the truck into Park and shoved open my door, falling out onto my knees before I raced toward the wide-open front door.

“Wait. Jesus Christ. Knox! Please wait for me!”

I ignored Layton because there was too much adrenaline convincing my muscles to move. Besides, I was going to fucking kill Jeremy, and my little brother didn’t need to see that. Light from inside the house spilled onto the lawn. I had a weird sense of déjà vu because all the windows were shiny and whole again. That dickhead had worked fast to fix his place. The fucker wasn’t going to get to enjoy the new windows. If he was still alive, I would put his head through each and every one.

A big man in a black leather riding jacket waved at me.

“Who are you?” I called.

“Name’s Bullet. You?”

“Knox.” I wanted to ask why his name was Bullet, but he was kind of scary looking, with a chest you could balance cement blocks on, so I decided not to push my luck. I’d already been jumped once tonight.

There was something dark staining his blue shirt that started my stomach churning. Was that blood? My face twinged in pain as if to remind me that I’d already been fucking stupid and made it out alive by the skin of my teeth.

“Reese’s Knox?” The big man tilted his head as if to get a better look at me, and I stepped into the light.

“I hope so.” I tried to crack a joke, but my heart wasn’t in it. My knees wanted to buckle as I caught sight of a large brown stain on the stoop. I pointed at the mess. “Is that from⁠—”

Bullet sighed and crossed his arms. The leather of his jacket struggled to contain his muscles. “Reese? Yes.” He glanced over his shoulder with so much anger twisting his expression that I took a step back. Bullet turned to the side, and I got a good view of Jeremy. He looked like the same sack of shit I’d pummeled earlier. His wrists were held together by clear plastic zip ties and his ankles were secured the same way. Rage had me quivering. I wanted to take an olive fork, rip out his spleen, and force feed it to him.

“Did the cops get called?”

I flinched and spun around as my heart tried to punch its way out of my chest. In just a few seconds, I’d forgotten Layton was with me. His face crumpled and his bottom lip quivered.

Bullet shrugged. “If they did, they haven’t shown their faces yet. Wouldn’t hurt to hustle out of here, though. I needed your truck or I would’ve already been gone. Help me.” He nodded at Jeremy.

Layton crept closer. “What are we doing?” He bit his lip.

“Fucker shot Reese.” Bullet made a disgusting noise, then hocked a loogie onto Jeremy’s bloody face. There was wet gore oozing from his mouth, and I spotted a few of his teeth on the carpet. Someone had already worked him over.

My hands bunched into fists and I forced them to relax. I couldn’t tell if I was happy or pissed off. Maybe both. I’d wanted to settle the score for Reese.

Layton grabbed my arm and swayed. “You just said Reese was in trouble when you picked me up!”

“Shut your mouth,” I hissed, glancing around.

No neighbors were outside after a gunshot, but that didn’t mean they weren’t watching and listening. Maybe Jeremy was as beloved by his neighbors as he was by everyone else who got to know him. I chuckled at the thought. Maybe they knew exactly what seeing the Kings of Men here meant for good old Jeremy and just didn’t give a shit.

“Why didn’t you say what was happening?” Layton punched my arm hard.

I spun around and grabbed Layton, shaking him. “Because I always planned to take care of this problem—” I hooked a thumb toward Jeremy. “—before we went to the hospital.”

A delicate gagging sound left Layton, which had Bullet chuckling. “I can’t. I’m sorry. This isn’t . . . .” Layton shook his head and put his hands in front of himself, warding off the sight of Jeremy. “If he fucking shot Reese, he deserves whatever, but I can’t do those things.”

Bullet hummed in approval. “Can you drive a motorcycle?”

“I taught him.”

Bullet nodded at me.

Layton, despite the situation, managed to roll his eyes. “Yes, I can drive a motorcycle. I’d be fine on that Harley.”