Chapter Two

Chapter Two

HIGHWAY

Bullets thunk into the ground around me, but I barely notice them as I run for her. Gwen ducks behind a car, and if I didn't know better, I'd swear she was smiling. Her eyes lock with mine, and I hold out a hand, gesturing her to stay down and stay put. Another shot hits the ground at my feet, and I dive toward her.

"Stay the fuck down," I growl at her.

"Where's the fun in that?" She lifts her chin toward my bike. "Is the gun in your saddlebags?"

"You're going to get shot."

Gwen shakes her head. "Have you been listening to the shots and directions they're coming from?"

"I've been chasing you across the fucking field."

Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "That'll get you killed." Gwen turns and peeks over the top of the car we are hiding behind, her camera in her hand as she takes photograph after photograph. A bullet hits the car, and she ducks back down. "There's a shooter in the trees. He's in our direct line of sight, and if we go for your bike, we're as good as dead."

My gun is in my hand. I look down at it, but it doesn't have the range to hit the sniper in the trees.

"How many shooters?" I ask her.

"At least two. But the other one isn't firing. Our guy in the trees is providing cover for him to get away."

"You're nothing like your sister."

Gwen smiles, and it lights up her entire face. "Thanks for noticing." She frowns. "Hear that?"

"I don't hear anything."

"Exactly." She pokes her head up once more and looks across the field. "He's stopped shooting." I stand, and she grabs my hand and yanks down on it. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"You're right. He's stopped, which means he's dead or gone."

Gwen stands and hits me in the arm. "I could have been wrong!"

Grinning, I shake my head at her. "Something tells me, Gwen, there's not much you're wrong about."

Reaper jogs to stand near us. "You two okay?"

"Yeah." I nod.

"Boys are beating the bushes looking for the shooters," Reaper informs us.

"They're gone," states Gwen.

"We'll see," replies Reaper as he jogs away.

"I've gotta go." Gently, I put two fingers under her chin and tilt her head back. "Stay. Safe."

Gwen smiles. "Now, where's the fun in that?"

Bending, I press my lips to hers and then pull back an inch. "Here I was thinking Lucy was the wild one. But you, you're a whole different type of crazy."

The kiss sends a static charge through me as though the air is filled with electricity, almost like a magnetic pull.

"Nah, not crazy. Calculated risk taker. The shooter wasn't focused on us until everyone scattered." She holds up her camera. "And I got some crazy good shots."

"Find someone to take you back to town." My lips turn down. "Anyone but Justice." I press my lips to hers once more, then jog after Reaper.

Not waiting to see if Gwen obeys, my boots pound the gravel as I sprint toward Reaper, our VP, who is hovering over Creed. The president of the Royal Bastards MC is down, his white T-shirt soaked in crimson. Devil is there, her fingers white-knuckled, pressing hard against the gushing wound on Creed's shoulder.

"Stay with me, brother," Reaper growls, his voice tight with command and barely concealed fear.

Creed bares his teeth and snarls, "It's a through and through. I'm fine."

"No, you're not," replies Devil, with a quiver in her voice.

My heart slams against my ribs. "We got you, Prez," I say, though it sounds more like a promise than reassurance.

"Highway!" The shout snaps my head around.

Damn. Gwen didn't listen. She's right behind me, her chest heaving, eyes wide but determined. There's no mistaking it—she's got guts. Fear is there, sure, but she's standing strong amidst the wailing chaos as if she belongs in this screwed-up world of ours.

"Should've known you wouldn't run," I mutter, half-annoyed, half-admiring.

"Not my style," she fires back, breathless.

My gut twists.

Protect her.

The thought slams into me with the force of a sledgehammer.

Seeing her there, fierce as hell, it ignites something—a need.

To guard.

To shield.

I can't let harm touch her, not if I have anything to say about it.

"Stick close," I tell her, my voice low. "This gets worse… you're behind me. Got it?"

She nods, swallowing hard, and I feel the weight of her trust.

Devil's hands are slick and red, but her eyes are steel. She's a rock, even as Creed's face turns whiter than bone.

"Patch him up," Reaper barks and two of the guys tear open a med kit, their fingers clumsy with urgency.

I steal a glance at Gwen. She's pale, but her chin is lifted. Her eyes catch mine, and she holds my gaze. There's something fierce in her hazel eyes.

"Need help?" Her voice cuts through the tension, surprising me.

"Keep an eye out." It's all I can manage, my throat tight. But something passes between us, some current that zaps right through the tension.

"Got it." She nods, her lips pressing into a thin line and shifts slightly, angling her body toward the road.

Creed groans as someone presses gauze to his wound, a sound that punches me in the gut. "Hang in there, man."

"Like I got a choice," he grunts back, and there's a weak chuckle from the group that doesn't quite hide our shaking hands.

I look back at Gwen. The corner of her mouth quirks up just a fraction, but it's enough to stoke the fire that's been smoldering inside me since I first saw her.

"Thanks for staying," I say, the words rough like sandpaper.

"Where else would I be?"

"Good question." I smirk, but my heart's not in it. Too much is at stake. Too much blood on the ground.

She steps closer, her shoulder almost brushing mine. It's almost as if we're partners in this dance of danger, whether we choose it or not. And right now, I wouldn't have it any other way. We stand side by side, watching over our wounded president, over our brothers and sisters.

Surveying the crowd, Creed isn't the only one hit. I see at least five people being worked on and another sprawled out on the ground with his woman lying over him, crying.

Reaper locks eyes with me. "Find out who's hit."

Nodding, I move to walk away when sirens cut through the air, piercing and relentless. They're closing in fast. My gaze darts around, and my heart hammers against my ribs. I've tangled with the law enough times to know what comes next. Badges will swarm us with questions we aren't going answer.

"Someone wanted us hit," Gwen mutters, more to herself than to me, her brain ticking over like a well-oiled engine. "But who? And why?" She stares at the oncoming swarm of fast-approaching police cars.

"Questions for later," I tell her, but she's not content to sit back. I know Gwen will want to chase this rabbit down the hole.

Whoever came after my club, they've kicked a hornet's nest. They don't know the storm they've invited.

"Fine," Gwen concedes. "We will find out who's behind this." She looks up at me. "Together."

Her lips press into a thin line, determination etched into every feature. We're knee-deep in chaos, our world turned upside down in a hail of bullets, but she's standing strong like she was made for this fight.

"Club business," I say as the sirens scream closer.

She's ready to dive headfirst into this madness with the club and me. Hell, maybe she's been waiting for something like this—waiting for a chance to prove she's more than just Lucy's kid sister.

Gwen holds up her camera. "I've got photographs. I can help."

I reach for the camera. She steps back and puts it behind her.

With a frown, I warn her, "Stick close," because somehow, in this screwed-up day, she's become mine to protect. "We'll go over the pictures together." I glance at the first police car that has come to a skidding halt. "And hide it from the cops." My hand finds hers, fingers intertwining naturally.

"Okay," she replies, her grip tight.

We're in this together—a biker and a beauty bound by blood and loyalty. What lies ahead will test us and push us to the brink. But as I look into Gwen's eyes, I know one thing is for sure—we're going to come out the other side. And when we do, nothing will ever break this bond we are forging.