He moved her slightly to the side before he came at me. Swinging his arm back, he pushed her forward, and in the span of a fleeting moment, I heard him say, “Take her.” I was so confused by what he said that I hadn’t been paying attention, and it was during my lack of focus that he managed to strike me in the face, although his hit wasn’t as hard as I was sure he could manage.
The prospect went back after Ace, and while they threw down, Jagger had pinned Scarface on the ground, continuously striking him until he stopped moving. I had no idea if he’d killed him, but before I could even think to ask, Jagger shot to his feet, reached behind his back, and pulled a gun from his waistband, pointing it directly at Rock. I craned my neck and saw the handle of a pistol showing from underneath the Reaper’s shirt. As Jagger reached for the man’s weapon, I tucked the girl behind me, shielding her from the turmoil going on around us as best I could.
Then I heard a shot.
Then another, followed by an eruption of screams from the crowd. Behind us, throngs of people rushed toward the exit, and it was because of the commotion I barely had time to register the flash of heat that whizzed by the side of my head. Seconds later, Jagger pointed both guns at the Reapers, who were still standing. “Go for it, and it’ll be the last thing you do,” Jagger shouted. The three of us walked backward with the girl directly one step behind me.
My arm instinctually reached for her. I thought perhaps she’d either run toward the Reapers or in the other direction altogether, but when her hand slid into mine, I turned to face her.
The moment my eyes landed on hers, an ache pumped through my chest but was gone when she tugged on my arm, breaking me away from whatever feeling I’d lost myself in and thrusting me back into the direness of the situation.
Against the warning of our president, we’d engaged in yet another fight with the Reapers, resulting in someone getting two shots off. I still didn’t know if they fired or Jagger did, and on top of all the uncertainty, I’d taken the one person who’d started it all, even though she was innocent in blame. I accepted the fault wholeheartedly, but I doubted my acceptance would do any good once the rest of the club found out what happened here tonight.
11
I sat quietly next to Lincoln as he drove. When we first made it outside, his trainer asked if they were all okay. Once they acknowledged they were, everyone dispersed quickly, much like the rest of the people who’d showed up tonight to watch the fight. In the distance, I heard sirens, and they were getting closer as we rushed toward his truck. His friends sped off on their motorcycles, one of them almost hitting the side of a car who’d cut him off on the way out of the lot.
I had no idea what was gonna happen now. Would he hold me prisoner like Griller had, or would he return me to them, realizing he didn’t want any trouble with their club after all? A whirlwind of thoughts raced through my mind, and I couldn’t settle on any one in particular.
“Are you okay?” My body twitched at the sound of his voice. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.” From my peripheral vision, I saw him glance over at me, but he turned away as quickly as he looked, touching his temple. “Fuck,” he mumbled, switching on the interior light when we stopped at a red light. He leaned over and looked in the rearview mirror, turning his head to get a better angle and look at the side of his face. His skin was flushed, but I couldn’t yet determine if the coloring was due to the adrenaline of the fight or if the reddened skin would start to discolor, turning into a bruise from where he’d been punched. As my eyes cascaded over him, I noticed blood near where his fingers had been.
“You’re bleeding,” I said, pointing to his right temple.
“I know.” He pressed his fingers against the cut again before turning to look in the back seat. Reaching behind me, he snatched a towel before holding it over the wound. “Close call tonight. If I’d moved even an inch, the bullet probably would’ve gone right through my eye.”
“Bullet?” I’d heard gunshots but hadn’t seen who fired or where those bullets had gone.
“Yeah. Seemed it just grazed me.” He seemed so calm about the whole thing. If that was me, I’d be freaking out.
“Are you okay?”
“I think so.” The light turned green and we were on our way. Where? That was yet to be determined.
A few miles later, when he lowered the towel to his lap, I turned my head in his direction, praying he didn’t yell at me for looking. Griller would often remind me with his fist to keep my eyes down whenever he was around, and I wasn’t sure if that was because he might feel some sort of remorse for what he did to me if he looked into my eyes for more than five seconds at a time, or if it was another way to control me. My guess was it was the latter.
If Lincoln noticed me staring at him, he didn’t make it known, a small act I was grateful for. Other than Pike, I hadn’t been able to gaze at someone in quite some time, and although the sentiment might seem like an odd indulgence, I was grateful for the freedom to do so.
Head-on, Lincoln was gorgeous, yet there was something strong and regal about his profile. His straight nose and strong jawline gave him the air of sophistication even though he was young. His short, dark brown hair was mussed, sections toward the crown of his head not lying down like the rest. His gray T-shirt was torn at the neckline, and there were spots of blood on the shoulder.
He gave off a sense of calm, even though after what happened back there, he had to still be amped up. Hell, my heart was still thrashing inside my chest, and I wasn’t even the one engaged in the altercation.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, and it was then I realized I never answered his first question.
“I’m fine.” My voice came out as a whisper, but he nodded, telling me he heard me. I hadn’t physically been harmed during tonight’s fight, and while I was far from fine, it was the only word that came to mind.
I was scared yet at ease. My feelings didn’t make a bit of sense to me because, for all I knew, Lincoln could be every bit as bad as Griller.
“Are you hungry?” I watched as his eyes swept over me, my T-shirt and shorts hiding my frail body underneath. My physique was thin by nature, but I’d lost a significant amount of weight since being held captive. There were times I’d go two days without eating because they’d devoured everything in sight. And when I was lucky enough to get some scraps, the amount wasn’t much. Maybe a leftover chicken wing and a day-old biscuit. Pike had snuck me food whenever he could, but it wasn’t enough to keep my weight sustainable. At least I was able to get my fill of water, though, a gift I’d come to appreciate because most days, the overabundance of liquid kept my belly semi-full.
“No,” I replied. Even though my stomach rumbled, my nerves wouldn’t allow me to consume anything without the fear of retching it back up.
I glanced out the window at the world whizzing by. None of the sights looked familiar, but I didn’t know my way around any parts of California, so every city and town would look foreign to me.
Close to fifteen minutes later, Lincoln pulled off the highway and on to a dirt road. There were no streetlights anywhere, his truck’s headlights the only illumination in an otherwise black night. The ride had gone from smooth to bumpy, the gravel beneath the tires crunching so loudly I could hear the sounds even though all the windows were rolled up.