“The fuck they doing here?” Acorn’s question is just loud enough for us to hear.
Hopper glares at his son-in-law. “Told you the girls shoulda gone home earlier.”
Heh. Maybe he’ll shoot Acorn later.
Shelby coughs but it sounds more like she’s trying to cover up a laugh.
“Rooster, you mind gettin’ the girls back to the clubhouse?” Pony asks.
While another brother might be insulted, I’m more concerned with getting Shelby somewhere safe before the shooting starts.
A pop and sizzle echoes over the parking lot.
Too late.
“Get down!” Pony yells.
Down where?
Instead of down, we haul ass to the side of the building where our bikes are lined up and waiting.
Pony digs through his saddle bag, passing out handguns like Halloween candy.
Shelby elbows my side. “Hand me one of those.”
“You know how to use it?” I pass her a revolver.
“Duh. I grew up in Texas. Of course I know how to shoot.” She flips the chamber open, spins it once, and snaps it shut.
“Marry her,” Jigsaw mouths to me.
Planning to if we don’t get killed tonight.
I press my hand to Shelby’s shoulder. “Stay here. That gun’s for protection in case anyone finds your hiding spot. Not to go cowgirl on me. Got it?”
“Got it,” she sasses.
“You also don’t need the bad press,” I warn her. “Country singer involved in shoot-out is a headline that will make Greg’s head explode for sure.”
That wipes the grin off her face. “I’ll stay put. But don’t you dare get hurt.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” I kiss her cheek and motion her in between my bike and Jiggy’s. “Stay here.”
Hopper nudges his daughter in next to Shelby, giving her similar instructions to remain out of sight.
Heather squeezes Shelby’s hand and the two of them whisper to each other.
Pony motions for Jiggy, Dex, and me to go around the back of the building, while he and a few others move toward the front.
“Kinda wish Steer and Pants had stayed with us,” Dex says as we creep up toward the corner.
“No shit,” I grumble.
Jiggy turns, staring at the spot where the girls are hiding. “You worried they’ll form a pogo sister’s bond?”
“A what?”
“Jesus,” Dex groans.
“They’ve both ridden your p—”
I shove my hand in front of Jiggy’s face, cutting off his explanation. “Thanks. I got it.”
“The fuck is wrong with you?” Dex stares at Jiggy like he’s expecting a normal explanation.
“I’m trying to add some levity to a tense situation.” Jiggy grins at me. “Plus, fucking with Rooster brings me joy.”
“You’re such an ass.” I shove him forward.
“But you love me.”
“Yeah, and I’ll be pissed if you get shot, so could we stop fucking around?”
He sweeps his arm in front of us in a grand gesture for me to take the lead. I flip him off in return. The three of us creep toward the corner of the building.
Another pop and whiz passes too close for my comfort. Chips of brick wall explode a few feet in front of my face.
“Fuck!” Jiggy whispers.
“Stay back.” I kneel at the corner of the building and hold out my arm, not that it will stop him if he wants to go.
Jiggy and Dex crouch behind me but Dex keeps his back against mine to watch for anyone trying to sneak up behind us.
Scuffling and shouting echo from the front parking lot. No more gunshots, thank fuck.
I poke my head around the corner. One of the Red Storm members has his back to the building, inching his way toward us. For some reason, his gaze keeps scanning the woods surrounding the gas station instead of checking out what’s right in front of him.
Works for me.
I raise my gun slowly to avoid catching his attention. Aim for his leg. Right below the knee. Deep breath. Exhale while squeezing the trigger.
Splat.
The force of the bullet slams his ass onto the pavement. “Fuck!” he screams, grabbing his leg.
“Nice shot,” Jiggy says.
“Wait. See if anyone comes for him.”
“He keeps up that screaming, everyone will come looking for him,” Dex points out.
More shots fire from the front of the building. I can’t tell if it’s our guys or theirs.
Another round of screams.
“Rooster?” Pony shouts.
“Back here.”
He steps around the side of the building and grins when his gaze lands on the biker rolling around on the ground. “Nice shot.”
I stand and brush off my jeans. “All clear?”
“We got the other ones.”
“We sure that’s it?”
Pony stops to kick a revolver out of the guy’s reach. “Any more of you around?” he asks.
“Fuck you.”
“That’s rude.” Pony kicks him in the ribs this time.
While this is fun and all, I really want to get to Shelby and make sure she’s all right.
“Acorn’s taking Heather to the clubhouse,” Pony says. “Why don’t you go with him? Then you can follow him to the safe house where we’ll be bringing these assholes.”
I’m not exactly eager to follow Acorn anywhere after what happened earlier. But Pony made it clear where he stood. Acorn would have to be pretty stupid to go against his president for the fleeting pleasure of fucking with me again.
Jiggy slaps my shoulder. “I’ll ride with you two. Make sure our little songbird’s okay.”
“Thanks, brother.” I nod to Pony. “The rest of us whole?”
“Pants took a bullet in the shoulder but he’ll be fine. Doc will meet us at the safe house and take care of him.”
Shit. Shoulder injury’s going to make riding difficult for Pants.
Dex, Jiggy, and I return to our bikes. Pants is leaning against his ride, clutching his shoulder while Heather ties a strip of fabric around the wound to slow the bleeding.
“Logan!” Shelby darts past the others, charging over the pavement until she’s close enough to throw herself at me. “Are you okay?” She pulls back, patting and touching me all over, searching for injuries.
“I’m fine but I’m not gonna argue if you want to check a little lower.”
She smacks my chest. “Not funny.” Turning away from me, she reaches for Jiggy and Dex. “Are you guys all right? I heard shots and was so worried about y’all.”
Shelby’s distressed voice wipes the cocky smirk off Jigsaw’s face. “Yeah, songbird, we’re fine.”
Dex pats her on the shoulder. “Sorry about that, darlin’.”
“Hey, if you’re finished with the circle-jerk, you wanna ride back to the clubhouse with us or not?” Acorn shouts.
Pants shoots a glare at Acorn. “Thanks for the concern, bro. No worries. Just got a bullet in me.”
“You’re all set.” Heather pats his uninjured arm. “I wish you’d come back to the clubhouse, though. I’m worried about you riding like this.”
“No can do. But thanks for patching me up, sweetheart.”