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“That’s rich coming from you.”
“I’ve owned up to everything. I want Ivy, but I can’t have her, and I refuse to hurt either of you to get what I want. How much more fucking selfless do you want me to be?”
Gray laughs. “I knew it was gonna be a problem. I just fucking knew it.”
I know what he thinks, but the problem is completely in his head. If Ivy was my woman, there isn’t a goddamn thing that anybody on this Earth could do to make her leave me. I’d fight dirty as hell, with everything I have to keep her, to make sure she knew exactly where she belongs. “It’s only a problem because you’re making it a problem.”
“Easy for you to say. You’ve never been the third wheel between a twosome like you and Ivy. It’s like you forget that anyone else exists when you’re together. I actually thought she’d forget about you in your absence, but I was wrong. Take her. Seriously. I can’t be with a woman who has another man on her mind.”
“Man, I can’t do that to you. You’re my brother, dickhead. We’ve been through too much shit together for me to just take your girl like that. I’m not about to lose our friendship over this crap.”
“Ivy’s not crap.”
“You got that right.”
Silence falls around us again. There’s no fucking point trying to pretend the truth isn’t the truth. Gray keeps his eyes on the road, his dark eyes darting to each of the three mirrors every few seconds. He’s diligent, and I realize that in my absence he’s become a capable biker and an asset to the MC. Not that I ever had any doubt, but it’s just something I notice.
Even as the thought crosses my mind, I hear a familiar sound. I’ve heard it dozens of times during my time in Angel Harbor. “You hear that?”
Gray frowns and looks at me before checking each mirror. “What?”
“Bikes. A few of them,” I say just as the sight of them fills the side mirrors. Gray sees them, too, and punches the horn to alert the guys on lookout. Slayer and Saint heed the warning, speeding up so they have time to prepare for the ambush.
My hand is on my piece as Gray punches it, the van moving a hell of a lot quicker without the bikes weighing it down. We put a good distance between us before they strike.
Bullets slam against the van hard and fast, a barrage of lead that we duck and dodge. Gray keeps the van on the road while I shoot out the window, clipping one biker in a familiar leather kutte as I dodge two more guns aimed in my direction. “Fuck, that was close!”
“No shit,” Gray shouts over the gunshots still following us on the highway. “This is your doing.”
“I’m not the fucker shooting at you, so fuck, no, it’s not me!” I yell at him quickly before turning my attention back to the other bikers who’re gaining on us again. Two bikes lay on their sides ahead of us, Slayer and Saint doing their part.
“On your right,” Gray calls out as I leave the passenger seat to open the sliding door on the side.
“Thanks,” I shout and slide the door open, aiming at point-blank range before I pull the trigger. Blood and brains hit my face at fifty miles an hour, and like the fucked-up asshole I am, I smile. “Got ’em.”
“Fuck!” Gray cries out, and I look over my shoulder just as he jerks to the right and grips his shoulder.
“Gray!”
“I’m hit,” he grunts. “My shoulder!”
“Shit. Fuck.” I slam the sliding door and go to Gray. “Hang on.”
The van is slowing down as his foot slips off the gas, the pain starting to overwhelm him. “I’m fine,” he grunts and shoves me away. “Just take the fucking wheel.”
I roll my eyes as the van slows even further, pulling him toward the passenger seat and aiming my gun at another bike that’s approaching fast.
“Hang on, man.” The biker is coming fast, and I line up my shot, ignoring how the van veers to the left. “Three. Two. One,” I count and pull the trigger a second before the bike slides right beside us. His head jerks, and the bike swerves before tipping over.
“Nice shot,” Gray grunts and helps me settle him in the passenger seat. I remove my kutte and then my t-shirt, balling it up and holding it against his left shoulder to slow the bleeding.
“Thanks. We gotta get you to the ranch.” Shit. Fuck. I can’t let anything happen to Gray, not on my watch. Ivy would never fucking forgive me.
“You worried about me, Stone?”
I smile, risking a glance over at him. “Yeah, asshole, I am. Just because you’re a dickhead doesn’t mean I want you dead.” I apply more pressure to the wound and slam on the gas, passing Saint and Slayer in my rush to get Gray medical attention.
Too many fucking minutes later, we’re on the ranch and rushing into a small building on the property, where Nova is ready for us.
